Joe sat back in his chair and absorbed what the two women had to say. “Is that what everyone else thinks? If we get to the hospital, I can’t guarantee that we can get hold of anyone but we do know that the USS Carl Vinson is still operating at least. If we can get to the top of the hospital, then maybe we can get a signal with the SINCGARS radio and get us all out of here and into the Gulf. I say that it at least worth a shot.”
“I’m game,” Ashleigh replied.
“Me too,” Balboa added.
“Let’s do it,” Chris said.
“Let’s do it quickly. We have a damn hurricane bearing down on us, let’s get to it,” Amos replied in his deep baritone voice.
Joe smiled in spite of the abysmal situation. He figured there would be some dissention among his cohorts when it came to moving again, but he thought that they had an honest chance in getting out of the hellhole in Monroeville, Alabama. He laid out his plan, most of it off the top of his head, and came up with a decent proposal.
They were going to need another vehicle, no matter what. They had Curtis and Amos to take with them, as well as all the people that had come in the Humvee before, which was a tight fit. Curtis proposed that they go after a car at a new car dealership near the airport. His proposal was that they break into the lock box with the keys and take whatever they could get, preferably an SUV capable of holding everyone. An SUV that happened to have a brush guard or something to toughen it up a bit would be better, but they would take what they could get. The crew going out would once again consist of Joe and Curtis with Jamie and Chris accompanying. That combination would give them two people in both vehicles, as one person would literally be riding shotgun, providing cover fire if necessary.
Joe tasked Amos and the rest of the crew to account for the rest of their ammo. Each man took his M4/AR-15 and two magazines, one in the weapon, along with their respective sidearm. Each pistol also had one clip loaded and another extra. Chris and Curtis both had .45’s and Jamie and Joe carried 9mm’s. Each man wore just what he had on his back, carrying the spare clips for the pistol in their pockets, and making a double mag out of the two clips that they had. Joe took four sets of two clips and duct taped them together to where they could just flip over the empty magazine and use the one underneath it. Joe took his tomahawk and Curtis took his Ka-Bar as backups to their sidearms as well.
They did their usual checking of weapons and loaded up in the Humvee, headed out to town with Curtis at the wheel again. He was still the only one that knew the area, and Joe was glad to have him as part of their group, not only for his navigation skills but as well as having Joe’s back. Joe’s decisions were becoming more frequent and less manageable, a bad combination for their continued success. The four men rode in the Humvee down the small access road once more and out into the intersection. They soon passed the derelict police car and Curtis’ truck, which he looked at longingly. He really liked his truck and hated the fact that for one, it was destroyed, and secondly that he had to leave it. Curtis pointed it out to Joe and the others as they passed it. Joe was disappointed as he did, the truck would have been great for what they wanted to do.
Jamie was in the gunner’s seat of the Humvee as they continued through town. He swiveled in the seat and looked around as they drove one, spotting the occasional lone zombie. No immediate threats were in their area as far as he could tell, and they wanted to keep it that way. Jamie sighted the sign for a Chevrolet dealership as Curtis was making the left-handed turn to head towards it.
Joe rubbed his hands together. For the first time in days, he was actually excited. He had not been much on the looting and pillaging that everyday life had become, but a new Corvette could soften that decision up for him.
“Time to go shopping, boys,” Joe said as they pulled in.
The dealership looked relatively untouched. The new model-year cars on the lot were a tempting grab, but Joe knew that something a bit bigger was what they were there to get. New Camaros and Corvettes beckoned from inside the showroom. Joe made a mocking pout at the sight of the Vettes.
Curtis glanced over at Joe, sharing his pain. “Don’t even think about it, hoss,” Curtis said, laughing. “If I can’t have one, neither can you.”
Joe looked back over to Curtis. “You know I have never bought a brand new car before. I would really like the first one to be a Z06, just saying.”
“Well let’s see what we got here. I'm thinking that a four-wheel drive, quad cab Silverado might be what we need; preferably one that runs on diesel, seeing as how we have some extra cans of it back at the airport,” Curtis said as they turned into the lot.
The distant look of the lot was a little misleading. There were bodies littered about the parking lot haphazardly, but none had touched the showroom. Even the glass of the large windows of the showroom looked to be nearly spotless. By the time he figured out what could be happening, the first shot rang off the hood of the Humvee, sparking as it did. The thick armor of the military vehicle stood up to the shot well, leaving only a small ding in the plating. Jamie immediately swung the .50 cal towards the top of the building. He had not seen what took the shot, but was betting that it had come from the elevated position. Joe winced as the shot ricocheted off the vehicle. Curtis slammed the brakes, abruptly stopping the Humvee.
“Great, now what? Anybody get eyes on where that came from?” Joe said as he too looked around for the shooter.
“I think it was from the top of the building, but I can’t be sure. Want me to light it up?” Jamie said, ducking low and adjusting the aim of the .50 cal.
“Not just yet, lemme see if we can draw ‘em out first.” Joe unlocked the combat lock on the door and slowly swung it all the way open. A second shot embedded itself in the bulletproof glass of Joe’s passenger side door as it opened. Jamie looked up to the top of the dealership’s building and saw the barrel of a rifle as it was pulled back.
“I got him! Top right on the dealership roof!” Jamie swung the .50 cal and aimed it to the spot where he saw the shooter.
“Don’t shoot yet, Jamie,” Joe said grabbing Jamie’s leg from within the Humvee. Jamie bent over and made eye contact with Joe.
“Why not? He’s shooting at us; rules of engagement say that I have every right to shoot back.”
“Yeah but I don’t want to attract any unwanted guests. You feel me?”
Jamie frowned. “So what the hell are we gonna do about him then?” Jamie said as he nodded to the roof of the building.
“Well if he wanted to kill us then he’s had two chances to blow our heads off and hasn’t. I think whoever it is they just want us to leave, so let’s just leave then,” Joe said, getting back into his seat. Curtis obliged and put the Humvee in reverse and backed out of the lot, being careful not to hit any of the merchandise. Joe shook his head and closed his eyes.
“Some people, man,” Curtis said as he headed out down the road.
“Let’s just go get us a damn ride and get back to the airport. We don’t have time to be fucking around with the grass-eating natives,” Joe said as he leaned back and propped his knee up on the dash.
* * *
The female shooter watched as the Humvee backed out of the lot. She cursed herself for not knowing how to adjust for windage and elevation, as the scope on the 7mm rifle was set up. She had also not had the luxury of learning much about a bolt-action rifle as opposed to the much easier semi-auto rifles that Joe had. She jammed the bolt home as the Humvee was leaving the lot, chambering another round. By the time she peered over the top of the building with it and looked through the scope, they were already moving down the road.
“Dammit! This fucking rifle ain’t worth shit!”
Her captive female counterpart tried her best to scream for help. She knew from the sound of the vehicle who it was that had come by. Her bound hands did not let her get free, and she knew if she tried to get loose again, she would be beaten mercilessly as she had the night before. She had only wanted to escape from the undea
d that had come to life in the terminal, and now she was a prisoner conspiring with the enemy, unbeknownst to her.
The woman with the rifle took the butt of it and sharply thrust it into her prisoner’s gut, silencing her.
“Shut the fuck up, Lucy. Nobody gives a shit about you anyway,” Brittany said as she grabbed the radio to let her cohorts know where the group was.
* * *
After settling with grabbing two diesel-powered extended-cab Dodge Rams instead of the Chevys they wanted, the four men went back to the airport to help load up everything they could. The large beds of the pickup were more than enough space for all of their gear, ammo, food, water, and everything else that they could cram into the Dodges. Each one of the two trucks could seat five people comfortably, as well as the Humvee. Joe set up the riding accommodations by putting himself, Curtis, and Balboa in the military vehicle. Chris would drive one of the Rams with Ashleigh and Amos riding along, and the second Ram would be driven by Jamie with Buffey, Dakota, and Rick riding. Jamie’s second Ram would stay back in the event that they were overrun or could not otherwise make it into the hospital. In that event, they would haul ass back to the airport and safely wait out as long as they could. In a world run by the undead, a contingency plan was of the utmost importance, but there was no backup plan for what they wanted to do. Joe had instructed for a full-on assault of the hospital. Ammo notwithstanding, they should be able to take the building with little trouble.
I was now or never.
The storm was bearing down on them even as they loaded the last of the cargo. The wind no longer gusted, it was a full on hurricane-force gale now. Buffey bundled Dakota with some of the cheap airline blankets and trotted out into the storm, taking Rickey’s hand and leading him with her. Joe and the other men provided as much cover from the elements as they could. As small as she was, the wind was hard to fight against. She made it to the black Dodge Ram that was her ride out and climbed in. Jamie had already started the big diesel truck and had it running and warm. The vehicle still had a new car smell to it, which was completely out of place in the world of the living dead. Still, it was something from the real world and seemed to have a calming effect on Dakota, who snoozed easily once he was inside the large truck.
Joe got into the Humvee and signaled to Balboa, who was once again in the gunner’s seat. Balboa swung his hand around in the air to get them going. The Humvee lurched forward and started down the road once more, headed out to salvation.
Or so they hoped.
CHAPTER 12
Curtis drove through town with the twin Dodge Rams in tow closely behind. When they had reached two blocks away from the hospital, he pulled off to the side of the road and waved to Buffey’s Ram to wait until the coast was clear, or at least manageable. Jamie got out and shook hands with Curtis and Joe as they both got out of the Humvee to speak to him.
“Good luck, boys. Once you have the place taken or if it looks too bad to take, get back double quick to me and let me know. If I hear the gunfire die down then I will make a pass down the street from the hospital to see if you guys are still…well…to see what’s up,” Jamie said.
“Well here’s to hoping that I see you again. Wish like hell I still had those handheld radios, you sure we didn't lose em at the nursing home>”
“Not sure, man. All I know is that we got everything out of the airport and they weren’t there,” Jamie said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Alright then, stay out of sight and wait on us. Keep us within sight if you can, if not just kill the engine and wait,” Joe said and gave another handshake.
“Will do. Good luck, Joe.”
Joe nodded and headed back to his Humvee. Jamie pulled the truck within sight of the hospital behind the Humvee and parked. From there he could see the hospital, about two or three hundred yards away. The number of zombies that milled about in front of it was hard to tell from their vantage point; all they could tell was that the road in front of it seemed to move in a constant flow. There were a couple hundred at least.
Curtis drove the Humvee until the dead started noticing he was there and stopped. Balboa racked the Ma Deuce and adjusted the aim for the distance. Chris pulled alongside with Ashleigh and Amos now riding in the back, rifles at the ready. The dead moaned and shuffled towards their target as the living sized up their opposition. The droves of undead became louder and louder as they stopped their unabated attempts at getting into the hospital and the group as a whole started turning to face Joe and his people. Balboa had the Ma Deuce cocked and ready to go, as did Ashleigh and Amos. Joe and Curtis opened their doors and aimed their respective rifles towards the oncoming horde as well, staying behind of the doors of the Humvee to steady their aim. The horde moved as a whole closer and closer until they were less than a fifty yards away.
Then they opened fire.
Joe was the first to shoot, signaling the others to follow suit. Looking through the Trijicon ACOG scope on his AR-15, he sighted in the first of his many targets, a quick moving zombie that bared a rotten face through the scope. Joe fired and blew the first shot right through the creature’s eye. Amos and Ashleigh followed suit, popping heads on several undead as Joe did the same. Balboa grinned and opened fire with the Ma Deuce, chopping legs off just above the knees. He readjusted his sights and opened fire with full force now, the giant .50 cal machine gun popping heads like sick, rotted watermelons.
Noise erupted from Joe’s group and as steady staccato of gunfire was thrown at the oncoming zombies. Joe took careful aim through the ACOG scope of his AR-15, steadily placing each round through the cranium of it’s intended target. The zoom on the scope did not give a clear picture of what the .223 caliber round did, but what it did was working. The heavy boom of the Ma Deuce told him that Balboa was hitting his stride as well. The more dense parts of the horde were blown apart by the sheer force of the mammoth machine gun. Balboa switched from the first case of ammo to the second, racked the .50 cal with both hands, and continued firing.
The salvos continued unabated for what seemed like half an hour, but did not last for more than thirty seconds. Joe expended down to his last magazine and stopped as he loaded the last of his thirty-round clips. The barrel of his rifle was smoking and starting to feel warm through the barrel shroud. He stopped firing and assessed the situation. Amos and Ashleigh also stopped firing, out of ammo. Balboa was loading his last case when he noticed that there was no gunfire. Joe’s ears rang from the constant firing, and now it was literally deafening silence. Joe put his fingers in his ears and attempted in vain to clear the constant ring. The whole scene was an assault on the senses. Cordite and the stench of decay blew around them along with dirt and other debris, pushed by the gusts of hurricane-driven winds. The sight of the massacre - such as it was, the undead tended not to shoot back – was horrifying.
Bodies lay at the feet of the assaulting force as Joe stepped forth and glanced left and right, checking the bodies to make sure they were down. Curtis did the same to his left, and Amos hopped down from the truck, slowly stepping forth.
“Son of a bitch that was loud! Any more of ‘em left?” Curtis said as he too tried to shake the ringing in his ears.
“We got some crawlers. Save the ammo, just stab ‘em,” Joe said.
Joe glanced back to his front, noticing there were several zombies that were sans legs, crawling towards them in a desperate last attempt to get at them. Joe took his rifle and slung it to his back, grabbing his tomahawk as he shoved the rifle back. Curtis did the same as Joe, unsheathing his Ka-Bar and making a beeline to the crawlers. Joe started in on cleaning up the leftover corpses, swinging the tomahawk into skull after skull. Most of the zombies’ heads split nearly in half, the blade of the hatchet pinging off the pavement as he swung all the way through them. Curtis did the same, stabbing into the legless creatures as they made futile last attempts at biting.
Joe shoved the tomahawk back into his belt loop and surveyed the destruction they had amassed. A wrecked a
mbulance into the sign of Monroe County Hospital likened the scene that they had perpetrated, mass carnage. Joe stood in the middle of the road and looked around, gathering it all in; it was not a pretty sight. Even if the hurricane were not going to shortly render the area half-destroyed, they would have. The hail of gunfire had blasted away most of the ground floor windows and would make easy entrance for anyone that wanted to delve in.
Joe finished silencing the last of the undead that were lying about in front of the hospital as Jamie pulled up with Buffey, Dakota, and Rickey. Joe motioned to Jamie to pull the truck underneath the roundabout in front of the hospital. The building stood four stories tall and for the most part was made of brick, giving it plenty of shelter from the oncoming storm. Curtis was pulling the Humvee in front of the building, as well as Chris bringing up the rear with the other Dodge. The three vehicles were lined up bumper-to-bumper in front of the hospital. The front of the building, such as it was, was actually not the main entrance as the actual front side faced onto a parking lot. The three vehicles sat in the ambulance bay for the ER, well out of sight and relatively safe from overhead debris and anything else that might befall it.
Joe walked up to where the three vehicles sat and gauged their surroundings. The obvious moans of undead inside the hospital itself were present, reminding him that they were not yet done with their current task. Throughout the melee of shooting, no one had spoken until now. Curtis, Joe, Jamie, Amos, and Balboa stood in front of the ER doors and looked into the now defunct emergency department of Monroe County Hospital.
“Well, boys it looks like we got work to do.”
The undead pounded on the shatterproof glass doors, signaling that they did indeed have their work cut out for them.
* * *
Brittany picked herself up off the ground, her lip already starting to swell and trickle blood. She did not expect this kind of reaction, she had done as she was instructed and reported back as much information as she had been able to gather and waited until night to grab an easy hostage and escape, also as she had been instructed to do. The minor outbreak of zombies had left her little time to try and get one of the children as he had suggested, but she still managed to grab Lucy, a target that no one would go looking for in a hurry because of her shady dealings with Joe and his group. The young, handsome, uniformed man stood over top of her as she sat nursing her lip from the backhand he had dealt. He was flanked on either side by his squad mates, three other men wearing the same desert camouflage uniforms. The only one that did anything other than take up space was Ruiz, who smoked slowly as his commanding officer continued his interrogation.
Six Feet From Hell: Books 1 - 3 Page 35
