“I hear you, Morganstern,” a hissing, static-filled voice replied. “Get your ass back here on the double.”
Morganstern glanced once at the radio in annoyance, then looked down at the horde filling the roadway and his expression changed to resemble curdled fear.
For Sadie the sight of the multitude was just as frightening; however, it also represented an ugly status quo that had taken the last week off for vacation and now was back, refreshed and ready to go with its usual deadly repercussions. “Let’s get out of here,” she said in a low voice. “There’s no use hanging around. If they see us they’ll only come on faster.”
The pair slunk away keeping low until the edge of one of the sheer hills cut them off from sight, then they jogged upward against the pull of gravity. Even Sadie found the uphill run trying, though she did her best to keep her breathing from getting ragged. The soldier was damn handsome, after all, and she could feel his eyes on her.
They huffed up the hill, each doing their best to hold back whatever fear was escalating in them as the moans of the undead began to build louder and louder the closer they came. Breathless, the pair came to the first barrier that represented the Red Gate: three stacked bundles of concertina wire where a pair of soldiers were waiting with the coils parted for them to pass. “How bad is it?” one asked.
“Bad,” was all Morganstern had the breath to say.
“Worse than bad,” Sadie added, recovering from the run more quickly that the young man. “We haven’t seen a fraction of them yet.” After another huge gulp of the thin air, she added: “I would guess there are a hundred thousand or more coming this way.”
A staff sergeant was in charge of the men guarding the barricade. His chest rig, filled with spare magazines, hid his nametag, making him an unknown authority figure in her eyes. He gave Sadie an uncertain look. “A hundred thousand? No way! We’ve never seen that many up here in the mountains. The most we’ve seen is a thousand tops.”
Sadie nodded to his stated wisdom, but she had her own wisdom and her own experience. “Ask PFC Morganstern. The stiffs filled a half mile of road from end to end and there were more pushing them on, a lot more.” Although Morganstern nodded emphatically, the sergeant looked unconvinced. Sadie huffed, angrily at not being believed. “If you don’t believe me, go down and look for yourself.”
“We can wait until they get here,” the staff sergeant replied.
“We can’t,” Morganstern said through gritted teeth. “You may not know her, but you know me. I haven’t seen so many stiffs since our last days in Castle Rock, and I’m sure I didn’t see the entire horde.”
“More than Castle Rock? Shit,” the other soldier at the wire said.
The sergeant tried to peer through the foliage as he considered what had been said. After a moment, he shrugged slightly, still uncertain. “I believe you, Morganstern but a hundred thousand? Sorry ma’am, but that’s just...that’s just crazy. What makes you say a hundred thousand? It sounds like you’re just pulling a fanciful number out of your butt.”
Sadie smirked, a dangerous look that should have been a warning for the staff sergeant. “Listen,” she said with her head cocked to the side. Everyone around them took a second to tilt their chins slightly to listen. The God-awful moans were preceding the horde; it was enough to send a chill up the spines of a number of the soldiers. “Does that sound like something fanciful coming from my butt?” she asked. The moans were of such a scale that no one made a single obligatory butt-joke.
Even the sergeant was stirred to action by the sound. “Let’s get this concertina wire buttoned up and then I want everyone behind the wall and out of sight. And Winston, call this in as a Priority 1 situation.”
They slipped past the wire, crossed the three-foot wide wood plank that bridged a fifteen-foot deep, waterless moat, and then ascended a metal ladder that was affixed to the wall of cement that represented the main defense of the Red Gate.
The men, a platoon of eighteen, didn’t need to be told to keep quiet and out of sight. The only one who made any noise was Corporal Winston, who was hissing in a high voice: “Yes, I mean it. We have a Priority 1 situation. I can fucking hear them, Lloyd. It sounds like a fucking million of them coming right at us. Damn it, shut up and just alert HQ.”
The staff sergeant, along with a dozen others, hushed Winston as the first movement could be seen through the trees. “We shouldn’t be just sitting here,” Sadie said. To her, waiting made no sense. The wire would be flattened in seconds, the moat would be filled in half a minute and then the walls would be tested—and they would fail. That was a given, and it wasn’t even her experienced powered pessimism talking. It was straight up fact.
“We are following the plans laid down by our superiors,” the staff sergeant said in a whisper. “These plans have worked quite well for the last year and they’ll work now if you’ll just shut the fuck up.”
Sadie raised an eyebrow, suggesting by the tiny movement: We’ll see.
A minute later the staff sergeant did indeed see that Sadie was correct. The roadway below them was three lanes wide with an extra fifteen-foot break-down lane on either side. The first row of zombies walked shoulder to shoulder, filling the area all the way across; Sadie counted fifty three of them in the first line. Behind them came rank upon rank, filling every inch of the black-top, fifty deep, seventy deep, a hundred deep, three hundred deep…
“Holy fuck,” the staff sergeant swore.
“Yes, holy fuck,” Sadie said. “Now do something.”
The staff sergeant swallowed once, raised his head to risk another peek and then shrugged. “I’ve called it in and we have our orders.” He shrugged a second time, suggesting that was all he was required to do.
“They’re not going to just sit there,” Sadie hissed. “You have to know that. They are being driven from behind. They’re going to fill this entire defile and then overflow it.”
“Yeah, and when they do we’ll kill them,” the staff sergeant replied. “I don’t know what more you expect. It’s too soon for artillery. I mean, so far all we got are a few thousand stiffs. The men we have here is enough to handle the situation.”
He was soon eating his words.
The zombies came on like a tremendous grey flood. When they hit the concertina wire, the first line fell into it, bending it down. They were caught in it like fish in a net and, although they struggled, they could not free themselves. The succeeding waves crushed them underfoot, using their bodies to bridge the entanglement—the first barrier had been breached in twenty seconds.
The moat took fifteen minutes to prove its inadequacy against such a monstrous horde. The first zombies fell straight into it as did the next line and then the line after that. Its dimensions: ten feet wide, fifteen deep and seventy five long was filled by nearly two thousand eager bodies.
At the bottom of it, the pressure was so great that skulls shattered, bones splintered and zombie meat was turned into a foul brown jelly. Those along the middle suffocated and their bodies were pressed into an even strata. Those at the top struggled despite most of their bones having been broken from the trampling feet of those that came later. Viewed from above, the entire trench wriggled horribly as though it had been filled with hideous grey worms with human heads.
Finally, they came to the wall behind which the eighteen soldiers and Sadie crouched. The wall itself was a marvel of engineering and yet Sadie didn’t have the same trust in it that the men around her did. “Try to relax,” Morganstern said, seeing her distress. He slapped the five feet wide wall that he was kneeling on. “This stands twenty-five feet high.” He then elbowed the parapet. “This adds another four feet for a total of twenty-nine feet. The rolling gate below us is solid iron, four inches thick. We should be safe.”
“And reinforcements should be coming, soon,” added the private with the radio on his back. “That’s what Lloyd over at the HQ said. They’re forming up now at the hotel, but not because of us…” He paused, dramaticall
y until the staff sergeant was within a breath of yelling at him. “It’s because we’re now at war with the Azael. Can you believe that? They fucking declared war on us. It’s what all this is about.”
The others began to curse the Azael up and down, while Morganstern gave Sadie a sharp look. “How did you know?” he asked. “You said down there that war had come. How did you know?”
Before she could answer, the first zombie made it across the now jam-packed moat. It went right to the iron door and began attacking it, making a sad echoey gong with every heedless strike of its fists.
“I just did,” Sadie said, moodily, remembering the tremendous hordes flowing across the plains. There was only one reason why they would’ve made the trek through the mountain roads and that was because they’d been herded up them by someone, and the only someones who could do that were the Azael.
She let out a shaky sigh as the first zombie was followed quickly by another and another. Soon the ground beneath the walls was filled with the dead and their stink and their dread moan was enough to shiver the soul. One with a gimpy leg fell and was trod upon by the others. Another tripped over its skull and he, too, was crushed.
With so many thousands pushing forward, it wasn’t long before more fell and were trampled. As each did the ones on top were that much closer to the rim of the parapet. It was a danger, but one that would be slow to develop just as long as the soldiers and Sadie stayed out of sight. Being quiet was no longer an issue. The moans drowned out any normal conversation.
They started to relax behind the parapet when Morganstern’s blue eyes suddenly went to squints. He was looking past Sadie, down the length of the wall. Sadie turned and her young eyes picked out the movement in a blink. There were zombies swarming on the southern hill where the wall was built into it.
“What the hell?” Morganstern cried. “How in God’s name did they get over there? That hill is way too steep for them to walk along.”
“Who cares,” a soldier further along the wall said. “Shoot them!”
Before bringing his M4 to his shoulder, Morganstern glanced to the staff sergeant who nodded and ordered: “Do it.”
The young PFC was well practiced with his rifle. With calm deliberation he started firing at the slow moving beasts. He didn’t miss.
There was no use hiding anymore and so Sadie stood and started stretching. When the sergeant gave her a questioning look, she explained: “Someone has to go and find out the extent of the problem. There could be another ten thousand of those things flanking us.”
“I want to say that would be impossible because of how steep the hills are but,” he paused and shook his head, “but if those ones got up here, others could as well. Ok, Dallas, take your squad and recon that hill. Go around the base so you don’t get them crazed.”
“What about me?” Sadie asked, as the six men moved out.
“You are a civilian,” the sergeant said. “What I need from you is to go back to the valley and report to the CAB. They’ll have jobs for you to do.”
Sadie knew what sort of job she’d be relegated to: water carrier or cook or seamstress stuck making mittens for the men. That wasn’t going to be her lot. “How ‘bout I check out that hill?” she said, pointing north where the wall ran up against another steep hill. So far there weren’t zombies on it, but who knew what was behind the crest?
She expected more of an argument, but the sergeant only shrugged and said: “Sure, knock yourself out and when you’re done, report to the CAB.” He was letting her go? Alone? Unarmed? For the first time in a week, she had left her Glock back at the apartment that she shared with Neil; at the time she had felt that leaving it had been a triumph over her paranoia, now she felt naked without it.
The fact that he was letting her go recon the hill so easily meant there was likely nothing over the hill but cliff walls or something similar. He saw the realization come over her and smirked. “The river is over there. The hills are too steep for most people and there’s no way the stiffs can get by that way.”
On the south hill, the squad was already running into zombies and the shooting was picking up. Below them, the zombies had been stirred past the simple drive to plow forward. There were humans on the wall and now they were doing everything possible to get up at them, including climbing on top each other.
“They’re pyramiding,” Morganstern said in awe. Sadie leaned out over the parapet and saw that the zombies were going crazy, pulling down their brethren and mindlessly using them as stairs.
“I need you to follow orders, miss,” the staff sergeant. “Go to the CAB and if you happen to see Alpha Company, tell them to double time it up here.”
Sadie began backing away from the soldiers, heading to the northern hill. “I’ll check out this hill first.” She tilted her head so she could see Morganstern around the sergeant. “See you later,” she said to him and then turned and jogged along the wall.
It wasn’t a long jog and she didn’t have near enough time to wonder why she had said that to Morganstern. What happened to her feelings for Nico? Where had they gone that she could so blithely flirt with some strange man? Ashamed of herself, she didn’t look back, though a part of her wanted to.
She ran to where the wall hit the hill and started to climb. It was a steep hill, too steep for zombies. Sadie went from tree trunk to tree trunk, pulling herself up until she reached the ridge of the hill. Somewhere below her, obscured by the trees was the river—the sound was the only thing pleasant on the air just then. Besides the moans and the crackle of rifle fire, a pair of machine guns had added their angry chatter to the din.
With the river unseen below her somewhere, Sadie turned her eyes to the valley three miles west of her. The air was perfect, making everything distinct, down to the last detail. She could see the crystal blue of Lake Estes and she could see the red roof of the Stanley Hotel and on the front lawn, where a thousand weddings had been performed, the land was strangely uniform in shape. What looked like large green rectangles stood one right next to the other.
These were the formations of men being briefed by General Johnston. Had she the eyes of an eagle, she would have counted eighteen hundred soldiers and surrounding them in an irregular crescent were another thousand civilians. In that group was Neil Martin; he’d be worrying about her. More than likely he was even then turning from the general as he spoke to look up at the very hill she was on.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” she said.
First she wanted a peek at the river. It was the Big Thompson River below her; its waters, coming straight from the surrounding mountains, were icy cold. It ran fast but wasn’t very deep, and was usually only as wide as a two-lane road. In the last week, Neil had tried his hand at fly fishing on it only to draw secret smiles from the other fisherman and jeers from the fish which would splash nearby as though to tease him.
That afternoon the only splashing came from the thousands of zombies trudging slowly against the current. They were so thick that the silver glinted water could hardly be seen. Sadie was halfway down the steep hill when she heard the moans over the sound of the rushing water. A couple of steps further and she smelled the beasts; a raw, mean odor that assaulted her nose. And then she saw the second prong of the Azael’s attack.
“Oh my God!” she cried, turning on the spot and fighting her way back up the hill. She had to get to the radio. She had to warn Neil—there were no walls or barricades across the Big Thompson. The river was a straight shot into the valley.
Chapter 3
Captain Grey
The formation lasted all of three minutes. General Johnston was not one to waste everyone’s time with a bunch of nonsense and blather. He placed the 1st and 3rd Battalions on immediate alert. They were to gear up and prepare to move out when called. As the designated “Ready” force, the 2nd Battalion was simply waiting on orders to go. With the firing escalating in the east, there wasn’t any doubt in Captain Grey’s mind that this would not be a “hurry up and wait” situat
ion.
The second Johnston snapped the soldiers to attention and marched away, Grey barked to his men: “Company, at ease! Let me have the platoon leaders up here on the double.”
Since it wasn’t proper military form, this raised more than a few eyebrows and caused a number of smirks. Grey didn’t care. He had hated the pomp and circumstance of military drill since his days at West Point where everything with the least hint of metal had to shine as though there was fire within waiting to burst out, and where creases, be they either in a dress uniform or a bunk, had to be sharp enough to cut cheese.
He hated that sort of busy-work. He was a fighting soldier and it showed in his men—they weren’t the prettiest, but they had quickly gained the reputation of being the toughest.
The four lieutenants jogged up and the relaxed manner in which Grey ran things was apparent as not one of them locked up at attention. They huddled close to their commander, resembling a group of men playing backyard football. Like a quarterback calling plays, Grey touched two of them on the shoulder. “Gannon, Adams, I need your platoons to get their asses down to the Red Gate on the double. We’re part of the ready force; let’s show them how ready we are. Take what the men are carrying and go.”
Gannon and Adams nodded and then Grey turned to the other two officers. “Seaver, I want you to load up 3rd Platoon with all the ammo they can carry and hump it down there, ASAP. I want them to look like God-forsaken pack mules, you understand?”
Lieutenant Seaver, a skinny ginger with a fine eye for terrain and a quiet way of leading his men, nodded at the request since there was no sense arguing. Yes, there were trucks available; however, the fuel reserves were finite while the strength of the men’s backs was infinite, at least as far as Captain Grey was concerned.
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