Transformation: Zombie Crusade VI

by Vohs, J. W.

  Zach was standing with Gracie, Maddy, and Wyatt when they heard the report. “They’ll arrive here tonight, even if they’re only keeping a moderate pace.”

  “Five miles an hour for eight hours,” Maddy muttered. “That’s still well after sunset, and they’ll be starving when they get here.”

  Gracie’s eyes darted back and forth while she tried to figure out how to best prepare for what they were facing. “I don’t know that there’s ever been a night attack involving helicopters, but we need to be ready anyway. We’ve spotted them, but I’m not sure they’ve spotted us. Make sure flares are distributed to every platoon; we can fight in the dark if that’s what they want to do, but my guess is that the action won’t start until daylight.” She looked at Olsen. “Can you and your men drive north until you find General Carlson? I sent two men this morning, but that was before you sighted the horde. We still have no radio contact with anyone more than a mile or two away.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. We’ll need to borrow some gas though.”

  “Of course. Zach, take them to fuel up and get them any food or drink you think they might need. See me at the command vehicle before you leave; I’ll have a written message for the general.”

  Luke was moving east along the river before Olsen and the others were completely out of sight; that was the direction Will and his followers had taken after killing Barnes’ goons. The current had cut small canyons and deep embankments through the desert; the hunters would have sought cover there while they waited for Luke to join them. He found them half an hour later.

  Luke had memorized maps of the entire area during the cold nights around the fire with Zach and the rest of his officers; he knew exactly where he was and where he wanted to go. He planned to lead Will and his followers north into the Paiute Reservation. They would eventually turn east and circle around the town of Leeds, at which point they would enter the Red Cliffs National Conservation Area. From there, only fifteen miles of mountains would lie between he and Gracie. But before he or Will or any of the hunters following them could begin their journey, they would have to re-cross I-15. He decided that would be most easily accomplished under the cover of darkness.

  The lead elements of the invading horde had continued eastward until just after dusk. The guiding Blackhawks had been flying in wide, slow circles several thousand feet above the earth, but they were most focused on keeping the masses back by the gorge moving quickly to avoid congestion in that narrow and winding section of the highway. Hundreds of enemy flesh-eaters now mingled along the interstate between Luke and the roads north that he needed to use. In the morning, there would be thousands of the beasts on the road—another reason to cross during the night.

  Luke was fairly certain one leather-covered human and even a substantial number of hunters cutting through the front of the advancing army wouldn’t draw any attention from Barnes’ men in the darkness, but he still kept his group travelling quickly. The enemy flesh-eaters didn’t seem to notice as Luke and his hunter-companions passed through their ranks.

  Corporal McKee escorted Andi and Thelma back upstairs, where the women retired to their respective rooms. Andi replayed the events from the dining room over and over in her mind. At first, she was perplexed by the behavior of the two officers who’d made a mad dash for the exit. There was no way they could have expected to pull off the escape. Then she realized that their likely intention was suicide by security guard—that was obviously a better option than whatever Barnes might have had in mind for them. The fact that Utah was under attack, and that the population was retreating to locations already known to the enemy, made Andi sick to her stomach. She felt desperately helpless, and she chastised herself for having had so much access to Barnes and still not finding a way to help the Resistance.

  There was a sharp knock on her door, then Barnes entered with one of his bodyguards. “Good evening, Ms. Carrell. I believe I’ve actually missed your charming company.”

  “Really?” Andi raised her eyebrows. “I’d have thought that you’d have been too busy organizing mass murder and slitting people’s throats to think about someone as boring as me.”

  Barnes laughed and helped himself to some orange juice from Andi’s refrigerator. “That’s exactly what I mean. All my officers just trip over themselves trying to suck up and tell me what they think I want to hear. You may be a bit simple-minded, but your candor is refreshing.”

  “Obviously not all your officers have been pandering for your approval,” Andi pointed out, “but I guess you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I believe you witnessed me noticing,” Barnes countered. “Anyway, we might not have too many more opportunities for our scintillating conversations, and I just wanted to express my appreciation.” He finished his drink in one swig. “I also wanted to let you know that we’ll be leaving at dawn in the morning. I’m taking you on a little sight-seeing adventure, and I’m hoping that we’ll run across some mutual acquaintances.”

  Andi’s heart raced as she thought about her friends in Utah, and how Barnes might be able to use her against them. “Let me guess, I get to be some sort of bait again,” she scoffed. “Do you really think that I’m important to anyone in Utah?”

  Barnes smiled with obvious self-satisfaction. “If he’s not in Utah by now, I expect he will be very soon.”

  The battalion remained on high alert all night, but Gracie had been right about expecting the attack in daylight. Just after dawn, Gracie was using her binoculars to scan the pink horizon when Maddy approached, looking like the bearer of more bad news. “Am I really seeing eighteen helicopters?”

  Gracie swallowed her fear before answering, “At least.”

  “How many hunters do you think are out there?”

  Gracie handed off her field glasses to her friend. “Go ahead and start counting,” she answered dryly.

  Maddy slowly lifted the optics to her eyes. “Holy Lord—this is worse than Vicksburg, a lot worse than Vicksburg . . .”

  “Get to your platoon leaders and tell them to calm everyone down,” Gracie ordered. “Explain how we beat this many in the east a couple of times last fall.”

  Maddy lowered the binoculars and briefly met Gracie’s now-cold eyes, an unspoken understanding quickly passing between them. An aide was standing nearby, so Maddy didn’t voice any objections about lying to her beloved company. She held her friend’s unwavering gaze for several racing heartbeats before lowering her eyes. “Yes, Ma’am,” she softly promised before turning to go.

  “Maddy,” Gracie called out. The brave fighter looked back with a haunted expression that nearly broke Gracie’s façade. “I’ve never told you that I love you. You guys are the only family I have left.”

  “This isn’t the end,” Maddy replied without conviction.

  Gracie nodded with understanding. “Just sayin . . .”

  Maddy quickly covered the short distance to her friend and hugged her fiercely. “You know what Jack would say . . .”

  Gracie stepped back and smiled. “Let’s kill ‘em all.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Maddy called out over her shoulder as she headed back to her troops.

  After Maddy had disappeared from sight, Gracie radioed a simple message to all her commanders: prepare for imminent combat. All planning was complete; everything that happened now would be a reaction to what the enemy did after first contact. She realized that even if the battalion was able to kill every hunter that came into range, an even greater number of flesh-eaters would still be coming. Dusk was ten hours away, so she would have to order a retreat an hour before sunset; the line would crumble under darkness. But in her heart she knew they wouldn’t be able to hold out that long; she’d seen what happened when irresistible force met a moveable object.

  The ominous-looking Blackhawks were filling the sky to the southwest, and Gracie was certain that there were now more of the choppers than she’d first thought. She briefly considered ordering an immediate retreat, then did some quick, new-world math in her head.
If only a thousand civilians were saved every hour that the battalion could gain for them here, humanity would be gaining human lives every minute beyond the first hour of fighting. Gracie knew she was underestimating the value of their sacrifice, probably by more than ninety percent, but even the low numbers she used justified a stand here and now. She knew of no better location where they could try to stop the hunter-advance, and certainly there was no place where they’d have the time to prepare the defenses they now waited behind. No, she decided, we fight it out here, for better or worse.

  The trench soaked with fuel stretched further up the slope than Gracie had thought possible when the plan was first proposed, but she knew that hunters would be able to flank her force on the right. Two squads of infantry had been placed on the peak above where the trench ended, but sooner or later they would be pushed back. She knew from experience that the vanguard of the horde would initially seek the path of least resistance, and that would lead them directly into the mouth of the cannon arrayed diagonally across the narrow valley. But as the succeeding waves of flesh-eaters pushed forward, their sheer weight would inevitably force hunters into and over the obstacles waiting for them. The creatures on the edges of the horde, however, would fan out to each side of the battalion’s defenses. On the left, water obstacles ensured that the monsters would have to move away from the soldiers for miles before they could continue their northward trek, but on the right, the hunters would face a series of steep mountains beyond the fire-trench. Gracie was certain that most of the flesh-eaters would follow the canyon that meandered off to the northwest, where, she hoped, most of them would become lost amid the numerous valleys and peaks. Unfortunately, she knew that some of the beasts would almost certainly manage to climb straight up and over the slope above the trench; the climbers worried her the most.

  Nineteen of Zach’s best troops were up there waiting to kill any hunters that scaled the steep hill beneath them, but Gracie knew that it was only a matter of time until some of the flesh-eaters managed to get behind the thin human line. Once that happened, the fight would devolve into an everyone-for-themselves melee that could only result in annihilation for the small band of soldiers stationed above the main line of resistance. She looked up toward the peak and shook her head in frustration. The battalion’s numbers and resources were limited; they simply couldn’t hold every weak spot in force. Nine hours, she told herself as she turned to walk toward the command vehicle. Nine hours and we’re out of here.

  Zach watched the advancing hunters with a mixture of dread and amazement. He’d seen some massive hordes in the east as he earned the dubious distinction of being one of the few Allied soldiers to participate in every major battle of the campaign. At the bridge over the Ohio he nearly died when a hundred thousand flesh-eaters poured over defenses Jack had thought would last days. The walls were compromised in minutes in what was the most thorough defeat Jack’s Hoosiers had suffered in the war up to this point. But lessons were learned during the ignominious fight that eventually led to changes in tactics which helped the allied human forces defeat Barnes and destroy his army at the Battle of Vicksburg. Zach knew that the Black Battalion was the most lethal force to take the field against the hunters since the world’s collapse, but regardless of how many monsters the troops killed in the next few hours, they would inevitably be overrun.

  His musings were finally interrupted by Logan’s uncharacteristically nervous voice at his side. “So, you’ve beaten forces like this back east?”

  “We lost a few, but won the big one at Vicksburg.”

  “From what I understand, you were behind a huge-ass wall,” Logan said coldly. “Eight hundred men in the open can’t stop what’s coming this way.”

  Zach shrugged. “Mountains and walls aren’t all that different, generally speaking.”

  Logan looked at Zach as if he’d lost his mind. “How do you figure? Can you and your boys move these mountains?”

  “We shouldn’t have to if your guys do their job. Killing with a cannon should be easy compared to sticking cold steel into the faces of hunters all day.”

  Logan was pissed. “Don’t ever question the abilities of my troops. You’re gonna see my men put more hunters on the ground than your damn infantry could ever dream of killing.”

  “I hope so,” Zach returned, lovingly stroking the blood-stained handle of his war hammer,“but we dream big”

  “We’ll revisit this conversation when the fight’s over and done with,” Logan promised. “Just so you know, I’ll be expecting an apology before you kiss my ass.” Captain Logan turned and stomped away.

  Terry was serving as Zach’s aide, and he’d listened to the exchange with wide eyes. “My momma used to get me to do all kinds of stuff with that tactic; you’d think a man Logan’s age would know better.”

  “He does,” Zach explained. “He just isn’t expecting a dumb teenager to play him. In a situation like this, the main thing is to make sure that his anger trumps his fear. Jack Smith taught me that. His men need to see him pissed off and looking for a fight.”

  Terry hooked his thumb toward a line of guns to the left. “Hear him yelling over there?”

  Zach nodded. “Those guys are gonna be deadly.”

  “When will we start firing?”

  “When the edge of the horde is three hundred yards out, Logan’s guns will pour canister into ‘em to force ‘em into the trench. Once we light it up we can focus all our fire on the passage between the reservoir and the flames. Then, thousands more are gonna climb over the dead and keep comin’. That’s when the fighting starts.” He fixed the young soldier with an intense expression. “When that time comes, you stay glued to my right side. Got it?”

  Terry was obviously scared, but there was also determination in his eyes. “Live or die, I’m with you, Zach, I’m with you.”

  A convoy unlike anything seen in North America outside of the desert southwest rode out through the gates of the Red River Depot. Jack had seventy combat-tested soldiers riding west in fifty tricked out Desert Fighting Vehicles. The buggies could reach eighty miles an hour on clear roads, and Jack intended to follow Luke’s route west as fast as possible. John and Tina were appointed squad leaders, in addition to Carter, who’d managed to keep T.C. at his side. Jack didn’t feel guilty about commandeering the soldiers or putting the Red River Depot salvage plan on hold. Vicksburg now had over a thousand soldiers and even more people who could man the walls if necessary, and Utah was either in imminent danger or had already been devastated. Jack had no way to know if Luke and his battalion had made it to Utah yet, but his instincts told him to fly for the state with all possible speed. General Carlson had provided ninety percent of the troops that had defeated Barnes in the east, and Jack would not ignore his brothers-in-arms at the moment of their greatest peril.

  As the convoy roared across the Louisiana state line into Texas, Jack considered the troops he was riding with. The soldiers were typical, hunter-killing infantry; they wore Kevlar-laced racing gear, snake-proof boots, and gloves and helmets no infected could bite through. Their weapons were varied, depending on strength and personal skill, but all of them carried a pole arm of some sort. Most carried the increasingly popular halberd that could be broken down into two, four-feet-long pieces and reassembled before battle.

  One squad was equipped with shotguns. Jack’s original force composed of Hoosiers and other Midwesterners the year before had learned the value of having a few shotguns on hand. Loaded with double-ought buck, the weapons could scythe an entire rank of charging hunters and gain the troops with edged weapons a few seconds respite. T.C. still had the Kel Tec he’d used in Norco, so he was technically attached to the shotgun squad, though Carter insisted on keeping his nephew nearby.

  CHAPTER 31

  Wyatt’s troopers had done their work, scouting the terrain to the south until sighting the horde. Now that the hunters were close, the cavalrymen led their mounts carefully through the defenses and tied their horses to posts posi
tioned several hundred yards to the rear. Then, the soldiers blended in with the gunners and spearmen along the entire line. The troopers had cross-trained with the artillery and infantry during the trek west, but Gracie still didn’t want Wyatt’s men holding a section of the defensive-works as a unit. Some of the horse-soldiers grumbled at fighting on the ground when first told of the battle plan, but after seeing the size of the enemy force bearing down on them they were glad to have experienced ground-troops at their sides.

  Wyatt walked up behind Maddy as the young captain was silently checking the armor of the soldiers next to her in the line. When she noticed Wyatt, she asked flippantly, “You ready to get bloody?”

  “As long as it isn’t my own, sure.”

  Maddy squinted at Wyatt. “Aren’t you a history guy like Luke?”

  “I guess you could say that,” the middle-aged cavalryman responded. “Why do you ask?”

  “I hope Luke’s ideas about war-wagons work as well for us as they did for those Hussites he was talking about.”

  Wyatt nodded. “They’ll work.”

  “They’d better, or we’re completely screwed,” Maddy warned.

  A short distance away, Gracie felt as if she was about to jump out of her skin. She kept hoping that Luke would appear, but in her heart she knew that she’d be facing this battle without him. The waiting was nearly intolerable as the horde seemed to almost stall a half mile out. In reality, the forward ranks of hunters were trotting as the hovering helicopters forced them toward the waiting humans. The flesh-eaters were quiet, or any sounds they might be making were swallowed up in the pounding of the Blackhawk rotors. Gracie figured that the monsters would howl soon enough, once they realized there was fresh meat enmeshed with the line of guns and machines to their front. By then, of course, the hunters’ cries would be drowned out by the roar of cannon. Logan had reported in at each radio check, but now he was splitting his gaze between Gracie’s position and the closing enemy force. When Gracie fired her flare-gun, the artillery would unleash hell on the monsters.