by Brown, TW
The first few steps were more of a stagger, but I fell in beside Darla and we gunned our way into the center of this camp. A large tent to my left was shaking as those inside were obviously scrambling into action. Without pause, I grabbed my third grenade and tossed it into the open flap. A man had just stepped into that space and had just enough time to look down at the deadly little pineapple that rolled between his legs. The explosion could have been comical if you divorced yourself from the instant carnage. The tent blew out like a giant bubble, and then it collapsed in on itself. Nothing moved as smoke poured out of the lumpy mess.
“Billy!” a voice yelled. I spun to my right to see Doubting Thomas limping in my direction. He was clutching his left leg and I saw that his hands were dripping wet with blood. “We got trouble.”
That was sort of obvious, which meant he meant that there was something even worse than what we were already dealing with. I was about to ask when something hissed by overhead. A second later, there was a tremendous explosion that sent me flying.
I shook my head to clear the ringing in my ears, but it was useless. That noise was going to stick around for a while. Plus, shaking my head only served to send pain shooting down my neck. I quickly patted myself with my hands and checked. No blood, or at least not enough to indicate that I was seriously injured. Darla was a few feet in front of me and rolled onto her back. At first I thought that she was dead, then she turned onto her side and spat out a mouthful of dirt and blood. She had something about the size of a pencil sticking out of her cheek. I watched as she reached up, found the object, and yanked it free in a spray of frothy blood. A crimson river was running down her face, but she had the presence of mind to rip free a piece of her tattered shirt and smash it into the hole that pierced her cheek.
It took me a few seconds to realize that the roar of gunfire that had been raging only seconds ago had reduced to a few random pops. From where I had landed at the base of a tree, I had a terrible view of the surrounding area. I had a smoldering camp one way and a smoldering wooden play structure the other. With tall grass on every side, smoke rolling by on the gentle breeze, and my back literally up against a tree, I could not see any of my team with the exception of Darla and Doubting Thomas.
Doubting Thomas was on his stomach about five feet away from me with his hands over his head. He looked up and I could tell that he was surprised to discover himself still among the living. I had obviously been stopped by the tree that I was now leaning up against and he came to me on his belly.
“A group of twenty or thirty were coming in from behind us by the looks of it. I don’t know if they were even aware we existed, but they have three guys packing RPGs.” His hands sort of went wide as if to bring my attention to the destruction.
Darla made a wet sound and then spat out a mouthful of blood. “Where did you see them last?” she asked once her mouth was clear. It almost sounded as if she were underwater.
“Back from where I was coming from.” Doubting Thomas pointed almost exactly back the way that we had used for our approach.
“You two rally everybody that you can and move to…” I looked around to gather my bearings. I saw a gentle slope on the other side of what was left of the mangled wooden play structure. “Get up on that hill.”
“What about you?” Doubting Thomas asked.
“Somebody has to take out those RPGs,” I said with a shrug.
“I’ll go with you!” he blurted. I glanced down at his leg and he seemed to suddenly remember that he was injured and added weakly, “You can’t go after twenty or thirty armed enemies on your own.”
“You still got your grenade?” I asked. He nodded and I held out my hand. He and Darla both plopped a grenade down into my open palm.
“It is still a suicide run,” the man sighed.
“I don’t plan on trying to take them head on,” I said as I checked my M4 and started towards the smoldering play structure.
I wriggled my way under a square wooden platform that was only a couple of feet off the ground. I would not be able to move much, but I would also present a very difficult target. They would have to hit my location with another RPG if they wanted any shot at all of taking me out.
I could not see much if they got close, but I would have a good view of any who approached from back the way we had come in. I would wait until I saw whoever was toting those RPGs before I side armed a grenade with the hopes that it would roll or bounce far enough to take out the greatest number.
I did not have to wait long. The first few came in looking every bit the part of a bunch of rednecks on a hunting trip. The guys toting the RPGs were whipping around like a cartoonish example of a policeman doing a room sweep. I gauged the distance and waited. As they drew closer, I slipped the pin free of the first grenade, being sure to hold the lever tight so I did not blow myself to bits.
Distant gunfire caused them all to freeze, and I hoped that they did not decide to alter their current course. Everything seemed to downshift to slow motion. One of the group took a single cautious step and then another. At last the group started to creep forward once more.
My lungs felt like they were on fire which is how I came to realize that I’d been holding my breath for an indeterminate length of time. I let it out slowly through my mouth and felt a cool rush as oxygen was sucked back in just as gently.
“Holy Christ!” a man gasped. “Those animals murdered Matt’s kids!” I heard gasps and saw the entire group adjust and come in a rush almost directly at my location.
I held my breath deliberately this time. They stopped and gathered around what had to be the remains of one of the children. Having seen it myself, I knew the horror that was being taken in by these people. I felt a slight pang of self-loathing start to build and just as quickly I stamped it down. I replaced the scene unfolding just a few yards away with the idea of my group clustered around the remains of Thalia…Levent or Rabia for that matter.
They were distracted. This was my chance. Shifting around just a bit, I slung my arm forward and let the grenade go skittering and hopping across the ground. I watched as it pinged off of one person’s boot and came to rest.
“What the—” I think I heard.
The blast that came just a second later ended that thought. Swinging my rifle around and out in front of me, I watched the dirt cloud for the first signs of movement. A dark shadow materialized and I squeezed the trigger. Something tried to rise, but I adjusted fire and sent another burst for good measure.
I saw a figure dashing off to the left and a few more to the right. They ducked into or behind the nearest tent or tree. It was a useless effort. Three more bursts ended with bodies spinning wildly from the impact of bullets and then falling to the ground.
I scooted backwards and came out from my cover after I was satisfied that there was nothing still moving. Just as I came up to my knees, Darla, Doubting Thomas, and several other members of my team popped up from the fringe of tall grass that covered the slope of the nearby hill that I had sent them to. I could tell that we were short a few from what we started with, but I could hold on to hope that maybe we were just a bit scattered at the moment.
Breaking into a jog, I did my best not to look at the carnage we’d inflicted. How could we cause so much death and destruction in such a short time? And was this result being played out with the same or even more horrible outcomes elsewhere? With the battle seemingly over, my conscience was now at full volume in my head. It was letting me know in no uncertain terms that I’d committed an act of atrocity. What made it worse was the fact that I’d seen those children in the camp before committing to my attack. I could not fall back on ignorance. I was a deplorable monster, no better than some of the scum we’d come across or heard about and done away with in the past year.
“We need to move!” Darla hissed as I rejoined my group.
I looked from one face to the next and saw very visible expressions that mirrored what I was feeling. Well…on everybody’s face except Darla’
s.
“Why?” I asked, tearing my eyes away from the others and focusing on the one person in our group that seemed to be taking everything in stride.
“Two herds are coming,” she said.
Judging by the way she said it, I had to assume that they were either very close, very large, or the lethal combination of both. I turned back the way I’d just come from and scanned the few streets and open fields that I could see. Darla’s hand grabbed my arm, and she led me to the top of the gentle slope that we were standing on. When we got to the top, it was easy to see why she was in such a hurry.
To our left was the south end of the main part of the town. From there, the houses petered out and farmland took over. Coming our way was a herd unlike any that I’d ever seen. It was so massive that, now that I was aware of its presence, I could swear that I felt the ground trembling. Easily a mile wide and just as long, the spectacle was not anything that I could ever describe to somebody and do it proper justice.
To the right was the campus of Eastern Oregon University. We’d skirted the edge of it as we approached our target. How had we missed the well over a thousand undead that were now pouring from the area of the football stadium and headed our way? With all the activity that had taken place in this town the past several weeks, I had a hard time believing that these zombies had just been lurking around the university.
The sounds of distant gunfire were starting to simmer down. It would seem that our first strike attack had gone off successfully. I was able to spot three more very distinct plumes of smoke rising from the other locations—or at least in the direction I assumed them to be positioned. By my guess, and judging how quickly the actual gunfire had died down, I had to think we’d been victorious. So why wasn’t I feeling good about it?
I would have to mull that over later. Right now, we obviously had a very large problem to contend with. A herd the size of that one to the south could roll over the town of La Grande and leave nothing but total destruction in its wake. The sheer numbers alone were enough to cause catastrophic damage to anything and everything in its path.
Over the past year, buildings had been subjected to weather and aging with absolutely zero upkeep. Some larger structures might be able to withstand this sea of undead flesh, but many would not. The residential neighborhoods would look like a thousand tornadoes had hit all at once.
“Everybody fall back to the parking lot of the armory!” I said.
We took off at a jog. I was running through several plans in my head, but none of them seemed to be an answer. Once we reached the parking lot of the armory, I was still no closer to a solution. I had everybody take up a defensive position to guard our perimeter while I hauled my butt to the roof of the armory’s conference center.
From there, I was able to get a good look at my surroundings. Also, I had a moment to take a breath and try to come up with something. Based on the size of that herd to the south, if they came for the compound, the fences would not stand a chance; they would fold over in seconds.
An idea began to form. It was sketchy at best, but I saw it as the best shot. Climbing down, I grabbed James and pulled him aside.
“I need a really big explosion,” I whispered. “I also need a fire that will burn for a while, but we need to be able to control it. It would not help us at all if we do this and then burn La Grande to the ground.”
Pulling out the map of the area, James Sagar and I scanned it until James brought his finger to a halt. I looked to where he pointed. It was as good of a place as any…with one problem.
“We have to go right past that freaking herd,” I sighed.
“If I am going to do something big enough to turn that group around and still have the ability to at least try to keep the burn under control, that would be the best location,” James explained.
It made sense. My only concern now was that we could get there quick enough and that he could get set up in time.
I turned to the group and explained the plan. “You are all dismissed,” I said after. “You have done what you were assigned and so nobody has to take part in this mission.”
“Screw that,” a voice piped up. Several heads nodded in agreement as Doubting Thomas stepped forward. “We are in this together. The whole point of this was to secure La Grande, right?”
“Yes, but this is—” I began, but the man cut me off.
“Yeah, yeah…we know. This is more than we signed up for. Well I have news for you…I didn’t sign up for any of this crap. I was a freaking night shift manager at the local 76 Station. I was about ten grand behind on my child support and had just gotten my driver’s license suspended,” Doubting Thomas opined. “I wasn’t a hunter or a fisherman. The fact that I am still alive is a damned miracle. In the past year, I have learned that I was way more capable than I ever believed. I have done things that I never imagined…things that I would see in a movie and make fun of because it was so unlikely.
“I just took part in a raid on other human beings. I probably helped kill women and children. And for what? So that the people that I live with can try to carve out a place that is safe? And just when it looks like everything went damn near perfect…minimal losses for us and all that, a pack of zombies that looks like more than the entire city of fucking Portland is coming straight for us.
“If you think you have a plan that will give us even a snowball’s chance in Hell of living to see tomorrow, then by God I will do my part to help.” Doubting Thomas looked around at everybody who all started to nod their heads in some sort of general agreement.
“Okay,” I said with a nod, “it will be good to have you all helping on this. I am sure that it will make things easier.”
I explained my general idea and then let James tell them what we would need to do. He also put out a list of things that he would require if anybody was able to locate them. Right away, a few people claimed to know where some of the items could be found.
Everybody took off on his or her own errands. We insisted that people travel in no less than pairs, and then James, Darla and I turned to head for what the map had marked as Spence Reservoir.
“Can I go with you guys?” Doubting Thomas called.
“Sure,” I said with a nod, “but I guess I should ask you your name seeing as how we have not actually been introduced.”
“Thomas Grier,” the man answered.
I did my best to stifle a laugh. I guess I did not do a very good job because the man gave me a funny look.
“You wanna share?’ Thomas asked.
“I will make you a deal,” I answered as we started off at a jog for the reservoir. “When this is all over, you ask me then and I will tell you.”
That seemed to be a good enough answer. The man fell in with us as we made our way east to get around the edge of the big herd. The ones pouring from the university would have to be somebody else’s problem. As it was, I figured they would probably end up being swallowed—figuratively of course—by the big group.
***
“Push those carts over to that large open area!” James called.
I had been surprised at how fast my crew had returned with damn near everything on James’ wish list. I had basically stepped aside and now the curly headed man was running the show as he scurried from one item to the other.
I had been blown away when five of my group arrived pushing a large flatbed pushcart with knobby tires and two big blue barrels strapped on. How they knew just where to go for kerosene I had no idea.
“I thought that fuel was pretty much useless,” I said to James as I helped him muscle the barrels into place amidst a pile of God-knows-what-else that he had amassed.
“Kerosene has a shelf life of about a year, but the folks out here are pretty good at being prepared for the worst. Most of the farmers use chemical treatments that keep their fuel in the best possible condition. The stuff is probably damn near useless as a stable fuel source, but it should work for what I need,” James explained as he made long cuts across several b
ags of some sort of fertilizer.
In what was probably record time, we had a hodge-podge of crap assembled, and James was ordering us all to take cover behind a large concrete building that had a men’s room at one end and a women’s bathroom at the other.
“The herd is just starting to hit the outskirts!” Thomas called down from the lookout spot he had taken up on a nearby hill where a single cell tower stood out amidst the tall grass, brush, and handful of pine trees.
James nodded and produced a pair of flares. “This is absolutely a cowboy move,” he said with what sure sounded like a great deal of glee.
“Are you sure it is going to work?” I asked nervously.
“Not in the slightest,” he chirped with a shrug as he popped the cap on the two flares. The bright reddish-white glow came with a hiss. James took another look at his handiwork and shook his head. “They would drum me out of EOD School if they saw the slapdash job I did here,” he said with a wistful sigh.
All eyes were on those two sticks of burning strontium nitrate (according to James, that was what made flares glow their bright red color) as they arced lazily and then landed in the midst of his little science project. There were a few sputters and then smoke.
“Everybody down!” James barked.
There was a few more seconds of nothing more than the hiss of the flares, and then a concussive blast that shook the ground. My ears popped and I had no time to cover my mouth and nose before the rolling cloud of dirt and debris practically choked me to death.
I finally managed to get a gasp of clean air and made my way to my knees. There was an acrid, foul chemical smell that burned my eyes, nose and throat. A few feet away, James was climbing to his feet. He peeked around the corner of the building and then jumped and started clapping his hands.
“Look at that baby!” he exclaimed.
I peered around the same corner. All I saw was a big cloud of smoke. A few flames licked at some nearby trees and brush, also, a big patch of tall, waist-high grass was burning. I turned back to him and the confusion must have been obvious.
