by R. J. Spears
The big zombie was coming up fast, and Rex knew there was no bowling it over. If he got tangled up with that one, it was all over but the crying. The others would take him from behind, and he would be zombie food.
He quickly closed on the behemoth, waiting for the last possible second to use his final shot. He knew he had to make it count.
Fifteen feet and he dodged two sets of arms. Ten feet and he slipped around another of the undead. Five feet and he swung his arm up, aimed, and fired. The bullet flew free and true, blasting into the large zombie’s eye and into its brain. Then, it slammed through the back of the thing’s skull, hit the metal plating, and ricocheted back into the zombie’s brain again like a pinball, destroying every bit of brain matter in its path.
The zombie’s lights went out, and it fell off the side, colliding with two other zombies and taking them to the ground. Rex jogged to his right a bit and vaulted over the two falling zombies. When his feet hit the grass, he saw nothing but empty ground between him and the woods.
He smiled, knowing that he had made it. He smiled knowing that he’d choke the life out of Anthony as soon as he could make it around the back lines of the zombie assault.
For some reason, the air felt fresher as he put distance between him and the zombies behind him. It had been a close escape, but he had made it just like he thought he would.
He felt the bullet before he heard the shot. He saw the muzzle flash in the woods a millisecond later. The bullet tore through the thin layer of his flesh and muscle on his calf and smashed into his fibula, shattering it.
Pain exploded in his leg, and he went down face first, sliding in the moist grass and ripping up a few yards of sod as he went. As he fell, his pistol slid from his hand, tumbling away.
The shock of the wound ripped him away from the reality around him, and he only experienced the world of pain as it radiated out his leg and tore through his entire body like a bolt of electricity. The shock waves reverberated for several seconds before he came back to reality.
His head lay sideways, and his eyes peered into the woods. He saw a young man with an assault rifle slowly bring it down from its aiming position and then look past Rex. The man was alone. He looked again past Rex, turned, and disappeared into the shroud of shadows of the trees.
That’s when Rex heard the clattering of metal and low moans coming from behind him. He knew not to look back, but only to crawl. He was able to make it only up onto three limbs since his left leg was now ruined. He crawled as fast as his shattered leg would allow him, but he knew it wasn’t fast enough. Not even close, really.
The clattering and moans got closer, and within thirty seconds, he felt the first set of hands grab onto his injured calf and give it a tug. The blast of pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced as the broken bone tore through the tender meat of his calf, and the other shattered parts ground together like pieces of red-hot steel inside his leg.
A second set of hands grabbed his thigh, and with the metal appendages attached to the fingers, ripped deeply into Rex’s flesh. He felt the rusty tips of the metal prick all the way down to his bone. The pain amplified in his body to an excruciating level. He bellowed, falling to the dewy grass and nearly passing out.
It was when the first set of teeth sunk into his other thigh that he surrendered himself totally to his fate. The feast was on, and it wasn’t going to be pretty as the zombies started with his legs and worked their way up his body, one bite at a time.
Chapter 26
Dead Man’s Land
“Joel, what are we going to do?” Jo asked, looking past me, out to the driveway, which was filled with armored zombies streaming our way.
Several others were down in the lobby, and all eyes were on me. The problem was that I had no answers. There were a couple hundred zombies out there, and I could see no way to stop them. We could take down a few, but the majority of these undead bastards were going to get inside. If their human confederates decided to open up with whatever weapons they had, we were done for. In truth, we were done for already, but I didn’t want to admit it.
I could feel the tendrils of panic slipping into my body, and my mind started to spiral down into a vortex of doubts and questions. I wondered what the hell I was doing and how I got put in this position, but it didn’t matter because I just was. Greg had trusted me to do this. I had to find a way to live up to that trust.
I held up a hand in the air, asking for one moment of quiet, as I closed my eyes and said a quick, silent prayer. When I stopped, a sense of calm washed over me, and I was as ready as I ever would be for what was about to happen. Most likely, I would be meeting the God I just prayed to firsthand in a few minutes.
“Joel, should we fight or run?” Russell asked, his expression a question mark masked in fear.
That was the question. I turned, looked over my shoulder and saw the armored zombies spreading out to surround the complex and knew our window to escape was quickly closing. We could probably hold off the zombies, but only for a while. Their human allies had turned the tide in their favor. That and the armor. A few more hits from their weapons, and there would be too many openings in the building for us to guard.
I turned back to him and said, “Both. We need to get ready to make a break out the back. Gather as many people as you can and get weapons, too. I’m going to stay here and keep them distracted.”
“No!” Jo said, “you can’t hold them off alone.”
“They’re going to need you to lead them out,” I said.
“Others can do that. I’m staying with you, and that’s final.”
“I’m staying, too,” Brother Ed said, and I could see that he was just as determined as Jo.
I shook my head and conceded that there was no talking them out of it. “Okay, I need someone on the second floor to toss down grenades when the zombies get close to the building. Can you do that, Brother Ed?”
He nodded.
“Jo, stay with me. Russell, let me have your walkie-talkie,” I said, and he handed it over. Before I spoke into it, I said to him, “You’ve got to lead our people out the back. I also need you to make sure Jason gets out. You up for that?”
He looked at his feet for a moment and then looked back up. “Yes.”
I brought the walkie-talkie to my mouth, pressed the talk key, and said, “Everyone in The Manor, there’s no time to discuss this or have a debate. We have to retreat out of the complex as fast as possible. The forces against us are overwhelming. Get whatever weapons and food you can and go. I need only a handful of people to stay behind to hold off the attackers, but most of all, I’ll need fighters to lead the retreat. I can’t guarantee the safety of anyone who stays behind.” And that was the end of my inspirational speech, if you called the imminent chance of death inspiring.
Aaron ran into the room with tears streaming down his face, “After what they did to Brandon, I’m staying. Don’t even try to talk me out of it.” He used his sleeve to wipe his nose.
Kara’s voice squawked out of the walkie-talkie, “Joel, what are you doing? You need to get with the rest of us.”
“Are you with the girls?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said,” but we need you with us.”
I paused for a moment and looked into the faces of the few people left standing around me, then keyed the talk button again and said, “A few of us need to stay back to hold them off, or else there’s a good chance they’ll catch our escape. You need to take the girls and go.”
“But....” she started, but was cut off when an explosion sounded above us, sending a shockwave through the building. The walls shook, and dust fell from the ceiling.
“There’s no time to talk,” I said. “I need to know you and the girls are safe. Now go.”
There was a pause for a moment, and I thought I smelled smoke in the air.
“I love you, Joel,” she said.
“I love you, too,” I said. Something caught in my throat, and my vision blurred for a moment as my
eyes filled with tears. No one said anything around me for a moment. “Take care of the girls for me.”
“Russell, get Jason and the others out,” I said,
He didn’t say anything, but turned and disappeared down a hallway.
“We need to give our people some breathing room,” I said. “Brother Ed, you and Aaron head upstairs, and use the grenades and whatever you can to keep them busy. Jo and I will do what we can down here. If the building’s compromised, then make a run for it. I’ll be right behind you.”
For those of us who stayed behind, there weren’t any illusions about running. We knew this was our last stand, and our chances of getting away were less than nil.
There was no strategy session or battle plan laid out, like generals must do before going to war. Everyone just headed off where they needed to go with grim determination.
I looked out of one of the holes in the front wall onto what was surely a dead man’s land as dozens and dozens of zombies shambled our way. These fearsome creatures, with their armored exteriors, shuffled our way, doing their ruthless puppet master’s bidding.
We may not be able to stop them, but we could, at least, slow them down enough to give our people a chance to get away.
Another explosion went off above us, and, again the force of the blast reverberated through the walls. I looked up and saw a fissure had appeared in the ceiling that ran nearly the length of the room. Things were not looking good for The Manor. How were we ever going to sell rooms in the place now?
I surveyed the field, and something caught my eye other than the damned undead. It was a glint of something metallic, but then I saw Brandon’s legs there, and I wanted to look away. Something drew me back, though.
It was the RPG launcher. That would help us stave off this undead army, but it would also mean running into the mass of undead when every impulse in my body was telling me not to.
“Brother Ed, Aaron, give me a status,” I said into the walkie-talkie. “Are you in position?”
It took a couple seconds, but Aaron’s voice came back, “We’re ready.”
“I need you to make me a clear lane to where Brandon’s body is,” I said. “His RPG is out there, and it could come in handy.”
“You can’t go out there,” Jo said. “Are you crazy?”
Without pulling the walkie-talkie away from my mouth, I said, “We’re going to be blasting them anyway. If we get that RPG, it will give a little more firepower and more time for people to get out the back.” I paused, and she nodded her head begrudgingly at my argument. “Toss a grenade into the ones approaching that area. I’ll do the rest.”
“I agree with Jo,” Aaron replied, “but I understand. Get ready, because I’m going to be raining hell on these undead bastards.”
Jo and I pulled back from the hole in the wall, and two seconds later, the concussion of a blast sounded in front of the building. When I looked back out, I saw smoke filling the area, and zombies were either lying out on the ground or stumbling away from the area just in front of Brandon’s body. This momentary break in their surge forward wasn’t going to last, and I decided there was no time to waste. I jumped through the hole, and as soon as my feet hit the ground, the reality of my situation hit me. Aaron and Jo were right. I was insane. I was totally exposed outside the walls of the complex, but I only hoped there was a method to my madness and sprinted forward with my rifle at the ready.
Within a few seconds, I was either jumping over or sidestepping around the prone bodies of zombies, blasted down like fallen trees by the force of the grenade. Parts of their armor and limbs were strewn about on the ground in a haphazard and gruesome fashion.
I can only guess, between the shock of the blast and the smoke, that our attackers didn’t immediately hone in on me. I made it to where what was left of Brandon lay and willed myself not to look at him. I did my best, but I did peek and regretted it as soon as I did. I pulled my attention away from him and slammed down on any feelings of revulsion, anger, and grief. There was no time for that. I slung my rifle over my shoulder, grabbed the RPG launcher, and the pack that Brandon carried the extra warheads in.
With no time to waste, I turned to sprint back to the building when I heard a whistling overhead. A few milliseconds later, a brilliant flash appeared in front of me, and I turned away from it. That’s what saved my life.
Something smacked against the side of my head, and a whole July 4th fireworks display went off, as orange and yellow lights flashed intensely. I stumbled forward and went to one knee, feeling dazed as the world faded away into blackness.
The blackness gave way to light, and I saw those damned horses again. A part of me wondered where the horses came from and what they were doing here, but another, larger part of me knew that they weren’t there because I was no longer at The Manor. I was in Joel’s World of Visions, a fun-filled place of wonder and great ambiguity. I was furious and frustrated, too. I didn’t have time for this. My friends and family were dying.
Then, I realized that was the first time I called Kara and the girls my family, but there was no time to explore this wonderful and dreadful revelation. There was no time for considering how much joy and fear this gave me. There was only time to save them. But I had to let this vision play out, because as cryptic as these visions were, there was some important point to them. I just had to figure it out.
The soldiers were on the horses, boring down on the retreating Indians. Like before, they rode with pistols in hand, firing at the families running away. My attention zeroed in on one of the riders, and suddenly a shot rang out, and, a moment later, the horse went down. The rider, rolled across the ground, ending up in a disjointed heap of broken bones and battered flesh.
I was being too dense about the first vision, and God sent me the re-run just to make sure I understood. Something inside me said, “Oh, I get it.”
With the point taken, I found myself whisked out of the vision and back to reality. Gunshots filled the air, and bullets whizzed by me. Smoke swirled around me, filling my nostrils with its acrid odor. Still half-dazed, I discovered I was down on my knees, and Jo and the others inside were pouring gunfire over my head and past me. I saw my rifle lying on the ground; its barrel creased by whatever had hit it.
Putting together the pieces of this puzzle, I could only guess that our attackers had launched an errant mortar, targeted for the roof like the others, but it had landed on the ground in front of the building. A piece of shrapnel must have ricocheted off the barrel, and the barrel smacked into my head. So, maybe my vision wasn’t a vision, but was simply a product of a concussion? That said, I was wondering how many whacks to the skull I could take.
Whatever was going on, I now had a mission.
When I finally looked up, my first mission changed to pure survival. A row of armored zombies was closing in on me. The only thing keeping them back was the outpouring of fire from the people behind me.
I picked up the RPG and the pack of warheads and left my rifle, because it was done for. The sound of moans and clattering metal seemed right behind me as I sprinted back to the building. I side-stepped the bodies of fallen zombies and made it back inside, heaving for breath.
“You okay?” Jo asked.
“Yeah, give me a sec,” I said as I dropped the RPG and the pack and pulled my walkie-talkie out. “Aaron, Brother Ed, commence dropping grenades on them when they get close. Okay?”
Both replied quickly and affirmatively.
“You’re going to have to keep them from getting into the building,” I said to Jo.
“Where are you going to be?” she asked.
“Taking the war to our enemy,” I said and then held up a finger, telling her to hold on.
I keyed the talk button on the walkie-talkie and said, “Travis, come in. Travis, are you out there?”
Static purred out of the speaker for a few seconds as I waited. An explosion roared outside, and I pivoted to see out of one of the holes in the wall. Smoke floated along the ground,
wafting over the mangled zombies that lay strewn about in parts and pieces. If this weren’t such a common sight, it would be so surreal. Strange how your definitions of real and surreal change in the zombie apocalypse.
“Travis here,” Travis said over the walkie-talkie. “What do you want, Joel?”
“Do you see any vehicles? A truck or anything?”
“I just shot a guy running from the bulldozer,” he replied.
“Anything other than that?”
“I think there are some trucks or something over the ridge. I saw some shapes before the fog lifted.”
“Where are they exactly?”
He filled me in, letting me know that they were just over a small ridge of hills to the southwest of The Manor. He thought there were at least three vehicles and maybe another one, but he wasn’t sure.
“I need you to check out those vehicles and shoot anyone out there. Get your team.”
He cut me off, “It’s only me now. The others were taken out by a mortar.”
“Oh,” was all I could say. It was a horribly inadequate response, but the best I could muster under the circumstances.
“We’ll mourn those guys later, when we have time,” I said. “Check out those vehicles, and do what you can to take anyone out.” I wanted to be more explicit, but I wasn’t sure our attackers were listening or not.
All during our exchange, Aaron and Brother Ed laid down a serious rain of fire on the zombies, alternating between tossing down grenades and ripping off bursts from their rifles. I wasn’t counting the explosions, but I knew we had a very limited supply of grenades. They were making a dent in the zombie horde marching our way, but that’s all it was, a dent. While the frontline zombies died in droves in the blasts and bullets, their undead brethren just forged ahead, undaunted and uncaring about their fallen comrades. It was their way.
