I followed her out, made two plates of food, and headed to the roof. I ate breakfast with Thomas and we both kept watch for a little while. By the time I had gotten inside everyone except Justin was awake and had eaten. “When everyone is done can you all please go sit in the living room? We need to talk.” It took about fifteen minutes until everyone was done eating and in the living room.
“Ok,” I started “Firstly, we need to need to know how much food we have,” I said, looking at Matt.
“We have about three weeks if we ration it.”
“Well that’s some good news, but it’s likely that we’re going to have to stock up. So, next, who here has ever shot a gun before?” Sarah and Jason raised their hands. Shit, I thought.
“What kind?” I asked them.
“Shotgun,” said Jason.
“Rifle,” replied Sarah.
“Could be worse,” I sighed and radioed Thomas. “Thomas, have you ever fired any kind of gun before?”
“Nope.”
Damn it, I thought, He looked a little nervous when I handed him the rifle.
“Well, that’s the first thing we’re going to have to fix,” I said, “it’s time for a little target practice.”
CHAPTER 2
“How many of you are scared of guns?” I asked and saw all of the girls except Sarah raised their hands. I was sure that the guys were just acting macho but I would deal with that later. “Alright then, looks like its ladies first.”
I looked around the group and chose at random, “Alright Hannah, you first.”
“Why me?” she said nervously.
I shrugged, “Why not?”
I took Hannah behind my house with one of the rifles. I set up half a dozen cans for targets before I started to show her how to load the rifle, how to operate the bolt, where the safety was and how to aim. I handed her the empty rifle and told her to take aim and dry fire. She put the rifle up to her shoulder, held it steady and squeezed the trigger like I had shown her. She didn’t flinch when the hammer struck home. “Ok,” I said, “now for real.” I turned slightly so Hannah couldn’t see the rifle and pretended to load it. I handed her what she thought was a fully loaded rifle. She put the rifle to her shoulder, took aim and got ready to fire. I wondered if she would keep calm and squeeze of a clean shot or if she would do what most people do, expect a kick and over compensate. She did as I feared and jerked back on the trigger and pulled the rifle high and to the left. She looked at me slightly shocked, having expected the crack of the shot.
I smiled at her and said, “You’ve got to squeeze the shot off, and don’t try and compensate for the kick, it’s not as bad you think.” She smiled shyly and watched me load the rifle for real. “Ok, try again.”
Hannah went through the same motions but when it came to taking the shot she did it slow, squeezing the trigger and kept it as still as she could as it jumped in her grip. The shot went wide and the brush behind the cans rustled. “Here,” I said repositioning her hold on the rifle and snugging it up in the crook of her shoulder. “You need to keep it held tight against your shoulder. I know it probably doesn't feel great but it will make it jump less and in the long run, it’ll hurt less too.” She shot again and sent the leaves to shaking. I could see she was already getting frustrated but instead of getting angry she tightened her grip and tried again. One can went down, then another, then a miss. The gun was empty and she turned to beam at me.
“Nice shot,” I said proudly, “Now for the handgun.”
I handed her the pistol without the magazine and once again went over the different parts and functions. She was far more nervous holding the pistol than she had been with the rifle. I did my best to reassure her that it was the same thing as the rifle and that she just needed to have a firm grip and to go slowly.
When we reached a closer set of targets she took a couple dry shots until she said she was ready to use live ammo. I slid a magazine in and reminded her not to compensate.
“I know, I know,” she said.
She took aim and squeezed off a shot. Miss. Another shot, another miss. “You can move closer if you have to,” I reminded her. She shook her head and lined up another shot. Hit. She emptied the magazine, hitting another two cans. She wasn’t going to be winning any competitions, but it would have to do for now.
I went through the same routine with the rest of the girls who said that they were scared of shooting, I wanted them to be comfortable holding and using a weapon, I knew we would have to be armed from there on out. Each scenario pretty much played out the same with each one of them overcompensating and then missing several shots before hitting at least one can. Then came Sarah’s turn. Unbeknownst to her I handed her the empty rifle. She lined up a shot, squeezed the trigger and the rifle remained stock still. She looked at me and frowned. I grinned at her and loaded the rifle.
“Just checking,” I told her as I handed her back the rifle.
She shook her head and started shooting. She emptied the rifle and hit all but one can.
“Great shooting.”
“Told you,” she said smugly.
“Don’t get too cocky now. I’m still a better at this than you.”
“Prove it,” she said, passing me the rifle.
I’ve had a lot of experience shooting and I could hit most targets within reason. I’m pretty good with my handgun, good with my rifle, but I can hit anything with my bow. It was the first lethal weapon I had ever shot and I had put it to good use.
“You got it,” I told her as I took the rifle and started to reload it. She walked over to the cans and lined up a fresh set. When she made it back over to where I was standing I wasted no time. I slid a bullet into the chamber, took a knee and started firing. The first shot took a can with it and I was already pulling back on the bolt. Another shot, another can. I was only limited by the fact that the rifle was bolt action and I needed to lower my rifle to load a new bullet. I finished taking out the cans, stood, looked at Sarah and raised my eyebrow. She rolled her eyes and headed back inside, shaking her head.
I walked over to the cans and reset them and then walked into the house. “Matt,” I called, “you’re up.”
Matt was sitting in the kitchen finishing off what bacon was left. He got off his stool and walked with me to the backyard, wiping grease on his t-shirt. I went through the same routine as with the girls and Matt also overcompensated and pulled the rifle high. After that, he did what I told him and was able to hit a couple of the cans. We moved on to the handgun and I found that he was actually pretty good. Some people are just better with a pistol and he seemed to be one of those people. I told Matt to wake up Justin and to tell him and Jason to come out and for Justin to grab another rifle.
It took a couple of minutes until they were both in the backyard, Justin still yawning. I went through the same directions as before, same false firing and redirection. After I was done showing them how to shoot with both guns I told Jason that I needed him to trade places with Thomas so I could show him how to shoot.
“Sir, yes sir,” he said snapping off a mock salute, turning and jogging off to the ladder.
“Asshole,” I called after him.
Justin headed back inside to go back to sleep or to eat, I didn’t ask which, and it wasn’t long before I was showing Thomas how to shoot.
“Alright Thomas, this is pretty easy. Point this end towards the bad guy and squeeze the trigger.”
“Yeah, I think I have that part figured out.”
I gave him the empty rifle and he squeezed off a dry shot. He hadn’t compensated for anything. He wasn’t scared of a kick or at least he didn’t know enough to expect it.
“Did it jam?” he asked holding the rifle out.
“No, it’s just that most people who haven’t shot before tend to jerk their first shot because they’re scared of the kick.” I loaded the rifle and handed it back to him. “Go for it.” He slid the bolt, took aim and fired, missing the first can he took a shot at. He frowned and readju
sted his aim. He made contact with each can he aimed for after that. “And you said you’ve never shot a gun before?” I asked him incredulously.
“Never.”
“Looks like you’re a natural,” I nodded, “I want you to take a couple more shots from different positions since I don’t really have to correct you on the basics.” I set up the cans again with a couple further back and some in more difficult positions. “Try a kneeling position.” He took aim and fired. “Holy shit,” I mumbled as he hit each can. “Ok, sitting position.” He emptied the magazine, reloaded and hit all but two of the cans. I stood there in silence and just stared at the targets, noting how few remained. “That was impressive shooting,” I told him.
“Thanks, man,” he grinned and handed me the rifle.
I wanted to work more with Thomas on long range shooting but that would have to come later. We shot the pistol and he wasn’t as good with that as the rifle. Like I said some people have a natural preference. I told Thomas to head back up to the roof and to send Jason inside. After Thomas left I went inside to get my bow and my target thinking about the people I now had as my fire team. They weren’t top of the line shooters and they would all need a lot more practice, but at least most of them weren’t afraid of shooting a gun anymore.
I picked up my bow and a quiver of arrows from my room and went back outside to set up my thick foam target. I put on a wrist guard and my shooting glove which only covered the two fingers that held the knocked arrow. I drew back, using my shoulders and back to take most of the weight and let out a slow breath. I let loose the arrow and heard it whistle through the air before it struck solidly half an inch off dead center. “Damn,” I muttered, “It’s been a while.” I fired another ten arrows all within the central circle, one dead center of the target. I smiled as the old talent came back to me. When I was thirteen I went to summer camp and found out how well I could actually shoot. At the time I had only fired a compound bow until a counselor challenged me to shoot one of the camps longbows. I agreed and after a couple warm up shots, I was out shooting him. They called me Robin Hood after that and later when I worked at that camp for a couple of summers I used that as my counselor name. Who knew that skill would come in handy later in life? I retrieved my arrows and thought about shooting another round when the static of my radio caught my attention. “Hey James, I think we’ve got one,” I heard Thomas say, the panic evident in his voice.
“I’ll be right up,” I told him.
I ran to where the ladder was stationed while speaking into my radio. “Jason, Matt, Justin. Whoever has the radio get the girls to their room and grab a rifle. I don’t think anything is going to happen but I want you guys ready.” I switched my radio to channel seven. “Sarah,” I called.
“No, this is Liz.”
“Give the radio to Sarah.”
I waited for a second until I heard Sarah radio, “What’s up?”
“We might have a Walker. I need you to get a gun or two and keep the rest of the girls safe in case something happens.”
“No problem.”
By the time I heard her reply I was half way up the ladder. “What’s the situation?” I asked Thomas.
“Just one at the end of the driveway,” he said, passing me the binoculars.
“Just one? You sure?” I asked looking at the end of the driveway.
“As far as I can tell.”
I spotted the form on the road and then glanced around it, searching for any friends it might have brought with it. “Ok,” I said passing the binoculars back to him, “I’ll take care of it. Just watch my back with that rifle.”
“Sure thing.”
When I reached the ground I radioed to the group. “Looks like we’ve got one zombie at the end of the driveway. I’m going to get rid of it, everyone else stays where they are.” I heard some protest about to be relayed to me but I switched the channel to five and repeated what was going to happen.
I turned my radio off so it wouldn’t accidentally go off and headed down the driveway. The Walker was just standing there swaying while staring at the highway. With no food in sight, it simply waited for the next thing to come along. I wanted to take it out quietly, and so I was using the bow instead of my pistol. I stayed as low and quiet as I could, silently cursing every time my foot made noise on a rock. I got within fifteen feet and I could already smell it, like rotting meat left out in the sun. I wanted to gag but I forced myself to swallow and to stay quiet. I inched my way closer and when I made it within ten feet I drew back the arrow and fired. It flew low and slid right into the back of its neck, the arrow punching through its throat and flying out onto the highway. “Shit,” I muttered. The Walker turned around to stare at me as I drew another arrow. I was able to calm myself enough to aim and let loose another shot. Luckily, this time, it went through the nasal cavity and half way through the thing's skull.
I watched as it dropped and let out the breath that I had been unknowingly holding. I thought back to the Safety Officer that I had killed and I felt no remorse at all for what I had done. This wasn’t a man, this wasn’t a person, this was barely a mammal, and I had put it down.
I went back up the driveway, grabbed a pair of gloves, a can of gas and a lighter. After pulling the arrow out of the corpse, I poured some gas on it and lit it on fire with a nearby stick. It was engulfed in flames as I went back up to the house, allowing it to burn down to bone and cinder in the middle of the driveway. I took some bleach and a bucket and washed the arrow making sure to get every bit of brain matter off the shaft.
I turned on my radio and gave the all clear, “Thomas?”
“Yeah?”
“Pay attention to the driveway and the highway. I don’t think the smoke will draw any more of those things but I want you to be on guard.”
“Sure thing, James.”
“Ok everyone, we need to be extra careful for the next day or so. I don’t know if any more Walkers are going to show up but I want everyone to stay inside just in case.” There were a couple head nods but mostly there were nervous looks and silence. “I’m going to go out to the pole barn and get a whiteboard so we can plan on what we need to do and get. I’m going to need some help carrying it inside. Think you can help, Jason?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I keyed my radio again, “Thomas, Jason and I are headed to the pole barn and we could use some cover.”
“No problem,” he radioed back.
The pole barn is a medium sized building that my dad had built about a hundred yards from the home. It’s where we stored all the holiday decorations, old sporting equipment, and useless junk. The white board we were getting was left over from the when the hospital has remodeled. The five by ten foot board took up a large wall in the living room and we set about searching for some dry erase markers.
“Found some,” said Hannah holding up three black markers, only one of which had any ink left.
I opened the package and grabbed a black marker. I drew several vertical lines to separate the board. At the top, I labeled each column Security, Supplies, Munitions, Transportation, and Other.
“Transportation?” questioned Matt.
“Yeah, we only have some small cars, and if we’re going to be making multiple trips to the surrounding towns then we’re going to need something a little sturdier than your Honda,” I told him.
I filled in each category as best as I could, taking stock of everything we had and everything we might need. Under Security, I wrote out a quick plan of how we could make a wall to keep the dead out.
“Whenever we go shopping we’re going to be bringing back as much as we can, starting with the essentials, but if you need anything specific then you should write it on the board,” I told the group, “If there are any problems around the house like repairs or concerns then you should put that on the board under Other and we’ll all work together to make sure things get taken care of. Before we can do anything or bring anything back we need to clean out the garage. We are going to
need the space to store everything. So,” I said glancing at my watch, it was twelve-thirty, “after lunch we’ll start on that.”
We went to the kitchen and I brought out all the ingredients for sandwiches, ham, turkey, roast beef, assorted cheeses, mustard, mayo, lettuce, and tomato were piled high on wheat bread. I radioed Thomas and had him call his order in. I made the sandwich and climbed up to the roof. As he ate I kept watch. I could see the burning pile that used to be a Walker, which used to be a person.
As Thomas finished up his sandwich I asked, “Are you good to keep watch or do you want a replacement? I can have Matt or Justin relieve you.”
“No man, I’m good. Besides, I heard you guys are going to start in the garage.”
Survivors Series (Book 1): Heroes Aren't Born Page 4
