Dead Man's Land

by R. J. Spears

  “Devin, get out. We need you,” Brandon said as he walked to the back of the truck. He opened the tailgate and started yanking out bags. He rifled through them and started handing out extra ammunition and gave two grenades a piece to Russell and Travis.

  “Devin, get out!” Brandon shouted.

  “He’s afraid,” Travis whispered.

  “We’re all afraid, but we need him to man up and get his ass out of the truck.”

  “I’ll get him out,” Travis said and went to coax Devin out of the truck.

  An exchange of gunfire sounded down the road, making Russell jump. From their current vantage point, he couldn’t see what was going on, but every impulse told him to run in the direction of the burning truck. Paige wasn’t going to last long if they didn’t get there as fast as they could. Her life expectancy was numbered in seconds, not minutes.

  “We need to use these woods as cover to get down the road as fast as we can,” Brandon told Russell, pointing to the trees along the east side of the road. He reached into the back of the truck and pulled out something long and thin, wrapped in a blanket. “You and me are going to make a run for the trees on the other side of the road.”

  “But that’ll put us out in the open,” Russell said, looking at the wide-open space of the four lane road.

  “I know that, but it’ll give me the best angle to fire on those bastards with this,” Brandon said as he pulled the blanket off his very own rocket propelled grenade launcher. “Two can play this game, mother fucker.” He glared down the road.

  Travis walked up beside them with Devin in tow. Devin looked as if he were about to jump out of his skin, but he was there. For how long, no one could guess.

  The firefight continued down the road, but Russell wondered how much ammunition Paige could have with her. From what he could tell, they looked as if they had been driven from the truck with little warning, leaving them disorganized and in a near state of panic. Adding to the fear factor was the fact that along with being shot at, there were the twenty zombies headed her way. Her options were limited. Sooner or later, she was going to have to make a run for it, which would make her an easy target. It was that or be eaten. Neither were great options.

  Brandon outlined his plan, and as soon as he finished, they broke into two groups with Travis in the lead with Devin and Brandon and Russell in a holding pattern until the others got into position.

  They watched as Travis and Devin rushed into a place down the road. Travis gave an exaggerated thumbs up once they were safely tucked behind an old, rusted out pickup truck.

  “You ready?” Brandon asked.

  Russell’s throat felt parched, but he nodded his head.

  “When we start to run, I want you to fire down the road. That’ll keep them off us.”

  “Okay.”

  The seconds seemed like hours for Russell. The firefight continued, but the shooting seemed more spaced out. Even as much aggravation as Paige had caused him lately, he knew he would do anything to save her. He only hoped he would have the chance.

  A burst of shots echoed up the road, and Brandon said, “That’s our cue. You know what you have to do.” He stood without looking back and sprinted into the road. Russell didn’t hesitate and followed right behind.

  When they hit the center of the four lanes, Russell stopped momentarily and looked down the road, spotting Travis and Devin, rising up into a shooting position. They let loose with a vicious barrage and focused their fire on the bus, blowing out its windows and sending a shower of glass into the cab.

  Despite the fire and the gunshots, the zombies shambled onward, fearless and unbothered. In fact, they seemed slightly more animated because of it. They did skirt the burning truck as the smoke billowed around their shuffling forms. A small group of them braved the flames and descended on the body lying in the street behind the truck, tearing into it, but Russell wasn’t worried about them, at least, not yet. It was the living that concerned him because they could kill from a distance.

  He saw a muzzle flash from a house on the east side of the street and targeted it, firing off several spaced out shots. He stood stock-still and didn’t care what kind of target he made as siding splintered off the side of the house with each impact. Some son of a bitch was going to pay for killing his friends and attacking his woman. Whoever was back there made a hasty retreat, pulling back out of view.

  “Get out of the street!” Brandon yelled, knocking Russell from his trance.

  Russell moved just before a rip of bullets tore through the spot he had just vacated, sending pieces of asphalt in the air like popcorn. He slid in next to Brandon who had taken cover behind the base of a billboard, the sign brandished the smiling face of some local candidate who was long dead. Several bullet holes pockmarked the candidate’s once cheery grin.

  “This second team is making things a little hairy for us,” Rex reported from his place under the dashboard of the bus.

  “But can you take them?” Anthony asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “That’s not encouraging news.” Anthony worked to control his emotions. He was already at the peak of frustration at not being there. “Should I send in the second team?

  Another barrage of bullets tore into the bus. “They’re targeting me in the bus, and I’m getting all shot to shit if you want to know the truth.”

  “Why did you leave the bus in the open?” This time, frustration clearly breached his controlled veneer.

  “Is this the best time for my fucking performance review?”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Rex.” Anthony paused for a moment then asked, “Should I send the second team?”

  “I don’t think they’d get here in time. Besides, Felix would probably fuck it up.”

  “Let our soldiers do their work then, but whatever you do, don’t stay on that bus,” Anthony said. “Get out the back now!”

  Rex knew Anthony must have been reliving his harrowing escape from his flaming bus incident.

  “But don’t forget the secret weapon. I think it could prove useful.”

  Brandon braced himself against the base of the billboard and targeted the front of the bus with the RPG. It wasn’t an easy shot. The smoke from the fire obscured much of his view. The shambling figures of the zombies, moving in and out of his sightline, made it even more challenging.

  “What are you doing?” Russell asked.

  “I’m about to shoot the hell out of that bus.”

  Rex grabbed the bag and duck walked down the aisle of the bus, trying to keep his head down and out of view. He opened the back door and jumped out, feeling his tell-tale early warning that disaster was about to hit as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. As it would turn out, taking Anthony’s advice saved his life.

  As soon as his feet hit the ground, the front of the bus exploded. The concussion of the blast sent him sprawling face down on the street.

  Partially dazed, he took a moment to recover and get to his feet. The front of the bus burned out of control, and he could feel the heat on the side of his face as he moved towards a building on the west side of the street.

  He hated the idea of losing another bus, but there was nothing to be done now. Anthony had been right; leaving the bus out in the open had been a dumb ass idea. Easy come, easy go, he thought, but he knew he would catch hell for it later.

  Something in him hated the idea of skulking away, but he wasn’t stupid. As tough as he was, he knew bombs and bullets could kill him. As soon as he was safely behind the building, he keyed his walkie-talkie. “Roy, Maggie, let the soldiers do the rest. Pull back to a safe position. Roy, if you can fire off a couple shots to hold them in place, then do it.”

  He rubbed a hand across his forehead, and it came back slick with blood. Sons of bitches drew some blood, he thought as his temper flared. He pulled back his shoulder and stretched himself to his full height. He thought, it was time for some payback as he walked along the side of the building and then turned northward towards
the sounds of the gunshots. Yes, in-deedy, somebody was going to pay.

  “There she is,” Russell shouted, pointing to Paige as she rose from behind the car she was hiding behind and took a shot down the street. She was at least seventy-five yards in front of them. Someone returned fire almost immediately as a spray of bullets slammed into the side of the car, sending Paige back under cover.

  “She needs to quit firing,” Brandon said. “She’s only drawing the zombies to her.”

  A small horde of zombies swarmed toward her, only fifty feet away. She was in no man’s land with zombies coming down on her and nothing but open road behind her.

  “But if she makes a run for it, they’ll cut her down,” Russell said pleadingly.

  “That’s where we come in,” Brandon said. “We’ll have to provide cover fire.” He pulled up his walkie-talkie and said, “Travis, Devin, come in.”

  Travis responded, “Here.”

  “We’ve got Paige on the west side of the street, behind a car. We need to provide cover fire for her.”

  “Got that,” Travis said, “we have one of our guys in the used car lot. He’s pinned down there. Zombies are just about on him.”

  “Who is it?” Brandon asked.

  “We think it’s Wayne Carleson.”

  “Is there anyone else?”

  There was a brief pause. “No. Ben Westin is dead in the street. The zombies have him now. We think there’s someone in the truck, but he is gone, too.”

  Russell felt a heavy weight drop on him. If he had only paid more attention to Paige and her rants, this might not have had to happen.

  “Okay,” Brandon said, “where’s the fire coming from?”

  “From behind a house on the other side of the car lot.”

  “On my cue, let’s concentrate our fire on that house. Let’s hope they know to run when we do.”

  Rex felt the clock ticking as he jogged along the side of the building. They were down to the two-minute warning, and he wanted to get one more score in before the final buzzer. And this would be a touchdown with a two-point conversion.

  A burst of gunfire sounded behind him. It had to be the new set of intruders because there were at least four guns blasting away at once. He only hoped that Roy and Maggie had sense enough to run.

  If the intruders were making a push in with some heavy firepower, he’d act like a ghost and vanish. As much as he’d like to take their attackers head on, he was no fool. He’d live to fight another day.

  As he approached the northwest corner of the building, he slowed and edged his way to the corner. The firing was fierce. He poked his head around the corner and saw that most of the shots were concentrated at a house on the other side of the street. Zombies streamed into the used car lot, and someone there was firing at them. The problem for this person was there were too many of them, and he’d never have enough time to kill them all. That was the beauty of the zombies when they came in numbers. There was no stopping them.

  He saw the dirty blonde behind a car in front of the Stag Bar, and she was firing at the house, too. When he looked that direction, he saw Roy limping away, obviously hurt, moving toward the woods behind the house. Rex knew he have to teach that bitch a thing or two.

  Getting an angle on her without being spotted was going to be tricky, but he saw that he would only be in the open for two spaces of twenty feet a piece if he used the small storage shed behind the building and the groupings of cars parked back there. Once he got into the trees behind the bar, there’s no way they’d see him approaching. That was, if they didn’t decide to make a full frontal assault. Then he’d be trapped with them in between him and a good escape path.

  Rex weighed the pros and cons for a few seconds and decided it was worth the risk. He wanted to have a little fun with Anthony’s surprise. It was payback time.

  “They’re overwhelming Wayne,” Russell shouted as they watched Wayne fire into the pack of zombies starting to encircle him in the used car lot. It was becoming all too obvious that while Wayne had ample firepower, he didn’t have the ability to fire in all directions at once as the zombies closed in around him.

  “Travis, Devin, can you get some fire onto the zombies going after Wayne?” Brandon shouted into his walkie-talkie.

  Two seconds later, Travis came back, “We’re trying, but we have several cars in our way. And if we do, there’s a chance we could hit Wayne. I’m going to have to move into the parking lot.”

  “No don’t,” Brandon said, “you could get shot.”

  “But the zombies will take him,” Travis replied with some anguish in his voice.

  “We can’t risk it.”

  It was then that Russell saw Paige come out from the cover of her car and start toward Wayne. She fired into the backs of the zombies trudging toward Wayne, and a few peeled off and came towards her. It seemed too little, too late, as the mass of them bore down on Wayne as he backed up and fired.

  Russell broke from beside Brandon and stepped out into the open. He brought his hands up around his mouth and shouted, “Paige, run this way!”

  She didn’t hear him at first, but he shouted her name again, and she turned his way. A myriad of expressions crossed her face: disbelief, recognition, relief, and then confusion.

  “Get back here, you fucking idiot,” Brandon yelled, but Russell ignored him and shouted again.

  Paige tottered back and forth in the middle of the street, caught in indecision. If she ran to Russell, that would mean she was abandoning Wayne to his fate. Going to help Wayne looked like a losing proposition though, since she knew she was running low on ammunition. She did the headcount of the undead, and even counting only the ones headed in her direction, she could tell she’d run out of bullets before all of them were taken down. That was counting each shot as a kill shot, and while she was a good shot, she wasn’t that good. Not under these conditions.

  Russell watched as she took two steps in the direction of the used car lot, and then she let loose on the zombies surging toward Wayne, while ignoring the ones closing in on her. It was a risky gambit because if any of them moved into the street north of her, she’d be cut off with no way to defend herself with the exception of using her rifle as a club.

  It was a brief and impressive display of personal firepower as bullets tore into the zombies trying to get at Wayne, but in the end, it didn’t make all that much of a difference, since only a few of the undead fell.

  That bitch has got some spunk, Rex thought as he watched her burn through her clip. He thought it was too bad she wasn’t on their side.

  He had made it to the side of the bar and had a good vantage point up the road. He saw some poor sucker about to be taken out by a pack of their soldiers. Hurray for our side, he thought.

  He also spotted another group of attackers on the north side of the used car lot, attempting to fire on the zombies about to take out the man. Out of view and up the street were more folks, but he couldn’t tell for sure how many. It was then that he started to doubt his bold move forward, but decided he was already there, so he might as well make lemonade out of lemons.

  He pulled back from the corner and unbagged the gun. He felt in a pouch on the side of the bag, found a small plastic box, and retrieved it. Before he opened it, he peeked around the corner.

  The blonde still stood in the street, bouncing around, waving to someone he couldn’t see. Couldn’t she see the writing on the wall? The cavalry had come as far as they were going. She’d have to go to them now, or she would be just as dead as the guy in the parking lot was about to be. It was time to beat feet and get the hell out of there, but her indecision was his gain.

  He opened the small plastic box, took out what he needed, and loaded it into the gun. He knew he’d only have one shot at this, but he was confident he could make it. He also comforted himself that if he didn’t get her with this weapon, he could shoot the bitch with his other gun and make a run for it. With all the undead in the street, they’d have their hands full.
r />   At least, that’s what he told himself.

  Russell watched in horror as the zombies enveloped Wayne. The sound of two more shots came from the crowd, and that was it. He put his head down for a moment, overwhelmed by a sense of loss, but then he jerked his head up to check on Paige.

  She stood in the street, frozen in place. Three zombies were closing in on her, but she didn’t move. She was transfixed on the mass of zombies now feasting on Wayne. Maybe she felt she couldn’t leave him, despite the fact that he was already gone. Maybe she felt she deserved to die because it was at her insistence that they come into town in the first place.

  Whatever it was, it was going to get her killed, and he couldn’t let that happen.

  There was no getting to her on foot in time, and the truck was too far away to retrieve her. Russell dropped to one knee and sighted the closest one of the zombies closing on Paige. He got the thing’s head in his sights and pulled the trigger.

  A millisecond later, the zombie’s head exploded, sending gore and black ooze onto Paige’s legs, snapping her out of her trance. She stumbled back and nearly fell over but caught herself.

  “Paige!” Russell shouted, “run this way.”

  She took a moment to break completely from the compulsive bond that held her in place, but then took a halting step in Russell’s direction.

  She was on the move. The two-minute warning was long passed, and there were only three ticks on the clock and no timeouts left. If Rex wanted this ball in the end zone, he’d have to do it now.

  He steadied himself against the side of the wall, took in a breath, and then let it out. Taking into account the gentle wind hitting him in the back, he corrected his aim a millimeter and pulled the trigger.

  Paige made the next step and was poised to start an all-out sprint to Russell when she felt a sharp pain in the back of her left calf. It was as if she had been stung by a giant-sized wasp. She nearly fell; while stumbling up the road a couple steps, a zombie clutched at her arm, snagging her sleeve. She still had her rifle in her hands and swung it up savagely, striking the zombie’s arm, snapping it in two at the elbow. The zombie’s grasp broke free as its arm fell uselessly at its side. Undeterred, it brought up its other arm and reached for her,