Six Feet From Hell: Unity: 6FFH Book #5

by Joseph Coley

  “Whoa! Ease up a sec!” Rick said.

  Joe eased onto the brakes, slowing them as they approached the tunnel entrance. They traveled a mere hundred yards or so up the interstate to the entrance to the tunnel. Rick once again knocked on the top of the truck.

  “It fucking reeks out here! What the hell is that godforsaken smell?” Rick asked. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what made the horrid stench. It was the smell of decay, the smell of death, the smell of the thing that had brought humanity to its knees nine years ago.

  Zombies.

  Joe pulled in front of the derelict LMTV and parked. He turned towards his comrades, repeating his instructions from earlier. Rick would cover long-range shots from the top of the cab, Curtis and Boyd would cover the rear. He and Captain White would assess the LMTV.

  Rick hurried down from the back of the truck, with Kane in tow. Something didn’t feel right, sound right, and it certainly didn’t smell right. The surrounding stench of decay was usually in the air, so when it came across the nose, it was rarely noticed. The smell that lingered in the air right now was very much noticeable, filling his nose with a putrid miasma of decay and excrement. As he got to the ground, he wasted no time in shouldering his rifle and scanning the immediate area. He could hear a steady jumble of voices and guttural sounds, and as he swung his rifle around to the tunnel, he immediately recognized what was assaulting his senses.

  Joe opened the door of the Ram, grabbing his M4 once again as he did. Immediately, he was hit with the stench that Rick first noticed. Rick was standing with his rifle shouldered, pointing at the tunnel, as Joe slowly turned towards the long hole through the mountain.

  He figured out what Rick was looking at pretty quick.

  “Shit! Get down!” He hissed at Rick. He dropped to one knee, brought the ACOG scope of his own rifle up to his eye, and looked through it. The ACOG didn’t have the range the Leupold scope on Rick’s rifle did, but he saw the same.

  “What is it? Fuckin’ smells like shit out here. Fuckin’ West Virginia…” White said as he approached Joe’s left side.

  Joe shot up, pulling his rifle away from his eye and pushing it behind him in one swift motion. His wide-eyed look said a lot about their predicament. He was inexplicably angry. Even something as simple as recovering a vehicle seemed like an exercise in survival. After a quick run through his exit strategy and the importance of getting the items in the LMTV, he put forth his idea. “We need to get the truck and we need to get it now. If it doesn’t start right away, then we need to offload it as fast as we can.”

  Curtis and Boyd strolled up behind Joe, both men with puzzled looks on their faces. “What’s up, brother?” Curtis asked.

  Joe clenched his jaw and blew out a deep sigh. Another obstacle and another reason he hated being in charge. If he had just left well enough alone, then he wouldn’t be staring at the teeming horde nestled within the East River Tunnel. He spun on his heels and went back to the truck to procure their jumpstart items for the LMTV. As he passed by Curtis and Boyd, he finally versed what he’d seen in the tunnel.

  “The goddamn tunnel is full of zombies.”

  CHAPTER 10

  April 18, 2022 – 1334 Hours – Thompson Valley, Virginia

  The sound of horses clopping down the road was the only noise in Thompson Valley. The scenic area outside Tazewell, just a few miles down Route 16, or the “Back of the Dragon,” as it was nicknamed, was home to fewer than 600 people. It was a small community in the days before the undead, and now it was nearly a ghost town. The few residents that it did have had long since abandoned the community, or had simply died off or moved to the walled-in confines of Tazewell. Not that it mattered, but it gave Balboa an eerie feeling nonetheless. It felt as if there were still eyes watching all around him, keeping track of the two men on horseback as they eased through the valley. Combine the absence of sound with the low-lying fog that was rolling in and it made Balboa remember of an old John Carpenter movie, and not in a good way. He shuddered, a noticeable shiver running up his spine.

  “Creepy as hell. Ain’t it?”

  Balboa startled slightly, his heart rate perking up for a moment. “Damn straight. Took the words right out of my mouth. How much farther do we have to go?”

  “About a half-mile or so. I haven’t been out here since I dropped Kody off all those years ago, I hope he doesn’t shoot first and ask questions later. On horseback he should at least give us a few minutes to talk to him before he does anything rash.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Larry chuckled. “You ever seen a zombie on horseback?”

  Balboa chortled. “Good point.”

  They rode on for a few more minutes, the fog being their only companion. Larry shifted in his saddle, a question gnawing at him as he rode. “You mind if I ask you something?”

  “Nah, go ahead.”

  “What really happened with Joe’s wife, Buffey? I have a feeling he wasn’t telling me everything whenever he went over that part of the story.”

  Balboa shrugged. “Not much to tell. She kinda just changed her mind one day as near as I can tell. He didn’t tell us about it until a few weeks after it happened. Obviously, she’d decided to go their separate ways when we were in Alabama; he never said why. I think she was looking for a reason before then and the whole ‘zombie apocalypse’ gave her a good reason to go ahead with it. She went off to the coast of Georgia with Dakota several years ago; we haven’t heard from her since.”

  “Damn. How does Joe handle it?”

  “He never stops. In all the years I’ve been with him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sit still for any length of time. He keeps himself busy, always doin’ something. This whole ‘cross training’ that he wants to put in place is just one more thing to keep his mind off his problems. Not saying that she is still an issue with him, but I think everybody has their different ways of dealing; his is to keep himself occupied. I think that’s what has kept us alive so far. He has his moments, though. I’ve seen him just want to give up and die, but he won’t. It’s like he’s got some unfinished business that won’t let him go.”

  Larry looked over, a solemn expression on his face. “This Wyatt fellow he keeps goin’ on about; that’s his unfinished business. God help him if Joe ever gets hold of him.”

  “I think Joe is right about him. Once Wyatt finds out about Captain White’s failure, I figure he will be on our ass. We need to be ready to defend ourselves and have our bases covered for when that happens. We’ve made it four months; I’m willing to bet it won’t be another four before he pays us a visit. When he does, we need to be ready for him. Getting this Kody guy will help quite a bit. We teach the people about combat operations, medical, explosives, and stuff like that and it will greatly improve our chances. Don’t you think?”

  “I sure as hell hope so.” Larry pointed to an old road sign coming up on his left. “We’re about to find out if coming all the way out here is worth it. We make a left on this road and it’s only about another hundred yards or so on the right. The road is a little curvy, so…”

  The crack of a rifle interrupted Larry. Although he couldn’t see it, the round had to have passed close by. A hiss meant that it was close, a snap meant that…

  Another shot rang out, skipping in front of the two men. Broken bits of asphalt sprayed about six feet in front of them. Both horses reared and nervously danced around.

  Balboa pulled back on the reins, desperately trying to regain control of Beefcake. The horse stepped back and swung its head back and forth. “Whoa! Calm it down, buddy! Don’t you dare toss me off!”

  Larry dismounted and held his hands up, surrendering. “Dammit Kody!” He yelled. “I know it’s you out there! We didn’t come to fight or take anything from you! We need your help!”

  The gunfire ceased. For a moment, Larry wondered if Kody was just lining up another shot on him, gently placing the crosshairs on his head before taking him out. The longer the silence went on, the more likely the
possibility the standoff would swing one way or the other without warning. Larry began to feel like an idiot, his hands still in the air. He let them drop to his sides and tried to relax his thoughts. The odd thought that it wasn’t Kody shooting made him a bit more on edge. He didn’t have to wait for long for the answer to present itself.

  A scraggly form appeared through the fog, walking down in front of them. Although it was still slightly foggy in the valley, Larry could immediately tell that it was the man they came for. Kody came walking down the road, his rifle curled across his chest. As he approached, his features came into view. Kody was 34 years old, but could have passed for much older. His large frame and even larger unkempt beard combined with his camouflaged clothing made him look like a Special Forces operative after a couple tours in Afghanistan. He did not look like a man that was fit to be teaching the intricacies of medical care, he looked more suited to make duck calls for a living, or something to that effect.

  “Is that him?” Balboa asked, dismounting from his horse.

  Larry slowly walked towards Kody as he approached. “Yeah, that’s him. By the way, whatever happens, unless he tries to shoot me, let it go.”

  Balboa looked puzzled. “Um…all right.”

  Larry held his hands low and away from his body, as if anticipating a hug. He knew damn good and well he wasn’t going to get one, but he wanted to show Kody that he sincerely meant no harm. The two men hadn’t seen each other in nearly five years, and that meeting had been across a long enough distance to not initiate conversation. Larry wasn’t happy about Kody taking the medical texts from the library, and Kody wasn’t pleased about Larry leaving him for the undead. It had been a frantic sprint across town all those years ago, and a band of ne’er do wells nearly doomed both of them to an early grave. Joe could attest to the goons on the outskirts of Tazewell that attacked him and his original crew as they tried to get out of town. J.W. had had a run-in with Larry and Kody as they tried to get away as well. The scene played out much better than Joe’s did, but was still unnerving nonetheless.

  Kody strolled down to within a few feet of Larry. As he approached, Larry continued to keep his hands out at his sides in a show of peace. Kody raised his rifle as he came up to Larry, aiming it directly at his chest.

  “Now, this is much better. Now I don’t have to waste all those rounds on warning shots.”

  Larry remained steadfast. “You’re not going to shoot me Kody. I have an offer for you that you should think over.”

  As the two men spoke, Balboa slowly drew his sidearm, a Glock 17, and kept it at his side. He didn’t want to have to shoot Kody, and after Larry had told him to let whatever may happen take place, he was inclined to. He didn’t have a reason to trust Kody, and nowadays, trust was worth more than gold. He eased around the head of the horse, the G17 still at his side, and patiently watched the two men.

  “An offer? Kind of like when you offered to take me home all those years ago. Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be taking any more offers from you anytime soon, Larry.” Kody raised the rifle and put it between Larry’s eyes.

  Balboa suddenly appeared beside Kody, his G17 pointed directly at his head. He didn’t want to have to shoot, but it made Kody think twice about his next action.

  “Drop it. We don’t mean any harm, but if you don’t put that down, then I’m gonna have to put you down,” Balboa said.

  Kody slowly lowered the rifle, turning towards Balboa as he did. “Where’d you come from, you big fucker?”

  Balboa reached over and grabbed the rifle, taking it away. “You’d be surprised how quiet I can be when I need to.”

  Kody backed off, raising his hands in surrender as he did. “Alright then, you got me. You care to tell me who you are and why you decided to accompany this asshole out here.”

  Balboa dropped the clip from the rifle and pulled the bolt back, emptying the gun. He walked over to Kody and handed it back to him. Kody grasped the Remington 700 and frowned in bewilderment.

  Balboa shoved his Glock back into its holster. “Like the man said, we need your help.”

  * * *

  They worked feverishly and silently. Joe suspected the battery to the LMTV would be dead, and he was correct. Rick had dumped two bottles of Sta-Bil into the fuel tank and one bottle of diesel anti-gel. Curtis was trying to figure out how to jump-start it as the slave cable at the front of the LMTV, but it wouldn’t fit anything they had. He’d cut the slave cable off and was desperately trying to figure out how to wire it up with the battery they’d brought. Joe stood at the back of the truck. Kneeling down, he’d kept an eye out for the horde in the tunnel to approach them, but so far, it had not. He was the only member of the crew with a suppressed weapon, but in the confined area of the tunnel even a suppressed shot would be like a bomb going off and he did not want to ring the dinner bell. There were thousands of undead just a few hundred yards away in the dark. He couldn’t see them well, but he could smell and hear them. They were waiting.

  Joe stood for a moment, thinking about what their exit strategy needed to be. Everything in him said to blow the tunnel and cut off the undead from them. The tunnel was one of the only ways to get across the mountain range that kept the dead from getting to them so bad in the first place. They had been luck so far and had not had an incursion as the size of the dormant monster in the tunnel was. There were several blocks of C4 in the truck, but for the blast to go off without a hitch, someone would have to stay fairly close to the explosion to set off the C4, something that he did not want to have to do, nor did he want one of his men to have to do. In addition, they would have to start the LMTV, a sure-fire way to attract the undead. Maybe the zombies wouldn’t follow, maybe they would give up.

  But he doubted it.

  Boyd sat in the driver’s seat of the LMTV as Curtis clamped down the jumper cables on the extra battery. He’d managed to get the wires hooked up correctly, or so he hoped. Curtis made a motion to turn the lights of the LMTV on, which Boyd obliged. Having been shown the proper way to turn the drive lights on, he pinched together the two switches, the headlights coming on immediately. Curtis made a “kill it” motion across his neck. The truck had juice now.

  Curtis faintly whistled at Joe. “We got power. I don’t know how long this battery will hold out, but we got enough juice to start it I think.”

  Joe turned and trotted back to Curtis as Boyd exited the LMTV. Captain White came over from his position behind the Dodge. White had been sitting on the tailgate on watch, making sure that nothing got within sight. Rick and Kane were also back in the bed of the truck, Rick keeping his keen eye on the horde in the tunnel.

  Boyd pulled Joe over close, and the rest of the men huddled around them. The men hid at the front of the LMTV, desperately trying to stay out of sight. “I don’t know how many chances we are gonna get to turn the engine over, but I think it has enough to start. It all depends on the fuel at this point. If it’s gelled up too much, we’re screwed,” Boyd said.

  “Well we don’t have a hell of a lot of time to wait on it. I don’t know how long before this horde gets antsy and decides to come at us.” Joe glanced back at the mass of zombies only a few hundred yards away. “God only knows how long they’ve been in here.”

  “Just blow the goddamned tunnel and let’s get the hell out of here!” Captain White hissed. “You said you’ve got C4 in the truck; go get it and let’s close this fuckin’ hole!”

  Joe glared at White. “And I suppose you’re gonna volunteer to blow it? Cause when that much C4 goes off, the whole goddamned mountain is gonna come down on top of whoever blows it. Is that what you wanna do?”

  White grunted and looked back at the horde. “Well then let’s get this fuckin’ thing started and get the hell outta here before they notice there is a goddamned dinner buffet down the street!”

  “Guys, I think they know we’re here.” Boyd’s voice cracked as he spoke. “Look.”

  Several of the zombies near the front of the pack slowly shambled
towards them. It would only be a matter of seconds before more would notice, starting the domino effect of undead. The men immediately noticed the shambling corpses and fast-forwarded their plans.

  “Curtis, get in the truck and fire it up. Everyone else, get back in the Dodge and get it started. Curtis, if you can’t get it started, don’t stand there all day and try. Get the hell out and get in the Dodge,” Joe ordered.

  Curtis grabbed the door handle of the LMTV and pulled himself up, leaving the door open. Once seated, he grasped the ignition and clicked it twice towards START. He closed his eyes and prayed.

  “Here goes nothin.’”

  Joe walked to the end of the LMTV, raising his rifle as he did. The straggler zombies were less than twenty yards away, but he didn’t want to fire just yet. For the most part, they still had the element of surprise. The rumbling sound of a large diesel engine attempting to start took that element away. The truck coughed and sputtered, bellowing black smoke from the exhaust stacks.

  However, it did not start.

  Joe looked back to the truck with hopeful determination, gripping his M4 until his knuckles were white. “C’mon you hunk of shit! Start!”

  Curtis continued turning the engine over, to no avail.

  As Joe turned back towards the tunnel, the deluge of undead began flowing in his direction. At first, the stragglers had little company, but within a few seconds, some of the others began to shamble in the same direction. The domino effect had started. With the element of surprise gone, Joe fired the first shot. A walker less than fifteen yards away was the first victim. Skinny and extremely dirty, the zombie took a round to the left eye, dropping like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The rifle shot through the head looked like a rotten pumpkin exploding; various bits of former gray matter and other indiscernible goo blew out the back of its head.