Dying Days 8

by Armand Rosamilia

  She made sure she was in position. This first shot needed to hit its mark.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  “Let me go talk to them,” Profit said to Bernie.

  She was about to agree, knowing they had to do something, when she heard the distant sound of gunfire.

  “Fuckers are trying to pinch us,” Profit said. He raised his weapon.

  “Save it. Pull back. They can’t get over the bridge without heavy casualties, which they already knew. My guess is they’re coming at us from all angles. We need to get back to Main Street and make sure everyone is armed and ready,” Bernie said. “Six gunmen with enough ammo can hold this position for hours. I’m worried about every other side of us.”

  When three alarms went off, signifying the attack was coming from every other side, Bernie knew she’d been an idiot. She’d tried to defuse the threat in front of her instead of worrying about the perimeter.

  She hoped the teams sent out would at least hold long enough to get everyone back inside the walls of Main Street.

  “I’ll organize my team to go east. I haven’t seen the ocean in too long. I’ve often wondered what blood in the surf really looks like. In movies, it looks so pretty,” Profit said. He was looking back over the bridge. “I have Jada and some of my other good people caught behind enemy lines. I hope they’ll figure out what’s going on and help on the back-end.”

  Bernie nodded. “Tosha is out there. She’ll make their life miserable. I just hope there are enough of us on this side of the river to help squeeze these bastards.”

  As everyone began pulling back, she heard the shot ring out across the river and smiled.

  Tosha was already helping in her own blunt way.

  Profit took a step forward.

  “We don’t know how many we’re dealing with right now. The worst thing would be getting caught on the bridge. Tosha knows what she’s doing. She’ll never get pinned down. Shoot and run tactics all the way. With Jada and the others she has I don’t see them having any problem getting back safely. We’ll make sure our team on the bridge can give them cover fire if needed,” Bernie said.

  “I hate leaving anyone behind but I see your point. I just hope Jada returns safely. We can really use her aim,” Profit said. “If possible I’d like to shore up this bridge with some of my better fighters. Once we know we’re safe between here and Main Street.”

  Bernie frowned. She was trying not to think too hard on what she knew was about to happen: a long siege. Any one on the other side of the Main Street gates wasn’t going to make it. Including Tosha and Jada and many others.

  “Let’s get Main Street secured and see what we’re dealing with first,” Bernie said.

  She could see by the look on his face he didn’t want to face the reality of what was about to happen.

  Bernie gave a few quick commands and wished those staying behind luck, knowing she was probably signing their death notices.

  It was something she’d have to deal with later. Right now she had to get back and prepare for a battle with other survivors. Fighting mindless zombies was one thing but each day more and more of the living joined their ranks. This would only add a big number to the total at once.

  They jumped into waiting vehicles and sped off down the road.

  Bernie was dismayed to see people on the road ahead with weapons. Not their people. They’d already gotten between the bridge and Main Street.

  Profit had his arm out the window with his weapon and emptied the clip, scattering the enemy and killing quite a few despite the angle and the speed of the car.

  “We’re fucked,” Profit yelled, as if Bernie didn’t know it already.

  She pulled off onto the side of the road and got out, firing. There were too many between their vehicles and the gates to drive through without getting shot as they passed.

  They were pinned down and outnumbered.

  Bernie went through a magazine too quickly, not knowing how many shots actually hit the mark and how much of them were wasted.

  “We need to get in the car and drive,” Profit said. “They’ll surround us really soon.”

  The other vehicles in their group had pulled off to the side and survivors returned fire but Bernie knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  There was a distant rumbling coming from the direction of Main Street.

  Now what? Bernie thought and reloaded.

  A bullet skipped across the hood of the car and Bernie flinched.

  “Any idea what that noise is?” Profit asked.

  The enemy was moving closer, running into the street and firing. They weren’t organized and most didn’t bother taking cover. They simply ran and shot.

  Bernie thought they looked like animals. She could see the bloodlust in their eyes and, even when they went down, they looked closer to zombies than man.

  Is this some new strain or what we’re going to become? Bernie pushed the thought down as she took her time and fired at the people running at them.

  The noise was coming closer.

  “We might be fucked,” Profit said. “Do you have a backup plan?”

  “Yes. We back up and fire until we run out of bullets or we’re shot. How’s that?” Bernie asked.

  “Sounds solid.” Profit shot until he’d run out of bullets. “I need to reload. At least they’re not trying to take cover. There’s just too many of them.”

  Everyone stopped as the rumbling noise got louder.

  Bernie didn’t know what new surprise was waiting for her and she tried not to stress or lose her cool. She needed to keep aiming and shooting at people or it wouldn’t matter if these marauders had an aircraft carrier driving down the road.

  “They brought the tank,” Profit yelled. “We have a tank.”

  Bernie sighed in relief. She didn’t know why the tank was coming in their direction but she was glad to see it, along with two dozen well-armed survivors clearing the streets of the attackers.

  As the marauders retreated back behind buildings, the tank approached Bernie.

  The top opened and a vaguely familiar man waved.

  “I know you,” Bernie said.

  “They call me Car Wash Tommy. I’m commanding a fucking tank. Excuse my language… but it’s a fucking tank,” he said. “We got word Tosha needed us for some demolition stuff near the mall. We were heading out when we heard about the attack so I decided what the hell, let’s go see if we can find some trouble first.”

  Bernie had to smile at the man’s enthusiasm.

  Profit shot twice from the car. “They’ll be regrouping any moment.”

  “I want you to take these men and this tank to the bridge. Hopefully just the presence of it will keep that group on the other side. If you think they’re going to get over the bridge, blow it up,” Bernie said.

  “Blow up the bridge?” Car Wash Tommy asked.

  “Yes. I don’t want any more of them on this side if we can help it. Once the bridge is down or you hear four alarm blasts, come back to Main Street and help us,” Bernie said. “How many rounds do you have anyway?”

  Car Wash Tommy smiled. “Two shells and three boxes of bullets for our weapons. Hopefully enough to kill a bunch of bad guys.”

  Bernie also hoped it was enough.

  “Cover your ass. They’ll be following you,” Profit said and fired again.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  A bullet skipped off the pavement inches from April and ripped a hole in her shirt but missed her skin.

  She needed cover. Standing in the middle of the street was going to get her killed but she couldn’t move.

  People were screaming.

  No one was returning fire as far as she could tell. April threw up her hands as if this was a game and they’d stop trying to kill her.

  “Get down,” someone was yelling.

  April’s knees wouldn’t obey her own thoughts of dropping to the ground, as another bullet ricocheted between her legs.

  Carlie crashed into April, throwing her to the
ground as automatic gunfire erupted, hot metal bouncing in the street where she’d been standing.

  Before April could thank her sister, Carlie was up and firing.

  Someone screamed behind her but April didn’t want to turn and see someone dead.

  She’d seen too many dead in her lifetime.

  “Anytime you want to help keep us alive would be great, sis,” Carlie yelled and fired.

  April ran to the nearest wall and slammed her back into it, willing herself to blend into the brick. She was so scared her hands were shaking and she almost dropped her weapon.

  Carlie was at the next wall, calmly aiming before firing, ignoring the bullets in the air.

  April followed her sister’s shot and saw a man fall off the wall. She had no idea how good a shot Carlie was. It was also surprising how calm she was under pressure.

  Unlike me, April thought.

  “What are we going to do? We’re getting slaughtered,” one of the men in their group yelled, his eyes wide with fear.

  April didn’t understand any of the words he was saying. A bullet struck the wall a foot from her face, kicking up shards.

  Carlie was walking slowly backwards while still firing.

  “Tell everyone to start the retreat. I’ll cover as many as I can but some of us are going to die,” Carlie said. She had her free hand behind her. “Give me your gun if you’re not going to use it. I’m almost out.”

  April made sure the safety was off before giving it to Carlie.

  “Reload mine and feel free to keep us alive by shooting,” Carlie said.

  “I could do without your sarcasm,” April said. She was glad her sister was busting balls to lighten the dire mood and distract April from a complete meltdown.

  April counted at least twenty shooters on the wall.

  Another scream behind told her they’d lost another person.

  “In here,” Carlie said. She was standing between two buildings, a thin gap between.

  April knew her sister could fit easily but she had the scary thought of her hips getting wedged in the alley.

  “No way,” April said and aimed. She fired and smiled when the guy she’d pointed the weapon at dropped off the wall.

  “Then let’s run,” Carlie said and fired twice. “They’ll be inside soon enough.”

  “Everyone shoot,” Carlie yelled. “Then run.”

  April pulled the trigger, trying to aim but also trying to go backwards without falling on her ass. She doubted she had actually hit anyone but she saw most of the people on the wall had ducked down.

  She turned and ran as fast as she’d ever run before.

  Carlie was well ahead and in the lead of the remaining survivors.

  There were only four of them total. April had failed and too many people had died because she’d walked into a trap.

  Bullets began bouncing around April as she ran but in a few seconds of panicked scrambling the shots couldn’t catch her.

  Five men with pistols met the four remaining survivors and covered their retreat to Main Street, where April saw everyone in motion.

  She stopped to catch her breath, leaning against the stage.

  Carlie was nowhere to be seen and for a second April panicked her sister hadn’t come back inside the gates. What if she was trying to be the hero and still out there fighting?

  “Here. Let’s go to the wall and shoot things,” Carlie said, coming out of the nearest building with two rifles and a box of ammo. She had the biggest smile on her face April had ever seen.

  “Why are you smiling?” April asked, trying to breathe normally.

  “Why not? We’re all likely about to die. We just assumed zombies would rip us apart. It’s kinda refreshing to think another horrible human being is about to kill us. Gives me renewed faith in the shittiness of mankind,” Carlie said.

  “I’d rather live if it’s all the same to you.”

  “So would I. What better way to feel alive than to defend yourself? There might not be America anymore but this is still our country. Still our little strip of land, we need to bear arms and all that shit,” Carlie said.

  “I never thought of you as much of a patriot. I didn’t think you hated America but you were never a flag-waver and never wore anything patriotic,” April said.

  “I was too busy wearing all black.”

  April laughed. “So was I. All the money we spent on clothes. Just a big waste of time, if you ask me. If I’d known what was going to drop, I would’ve bought a few less pairs of killer shoes and a couple less corsets and stocked up on ammo.”

  “Someday, when this all calms down, we’ll go in search of killer shoes and corsets to wear again. Until we get there, though, we need to help our people,” Carlie said.

  “Let’s keep our parents safe so they can re-open their store and start selling killer shoes and corsets to everyone without any worries.”

  Carlie grinned. “Do me a big favor, though.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell mom and dad I know how to shoot a gun or how excited I am to be killing people. You were always the dark, weird one in the family. It would be cooler if they still saw me as the petite normal kid,” Carlie said.

  April laughed. “You’re only fooling yourself if you think mom and dad don’t already know what kind of weirdo you are, too.” She pointed at her sister’s tattoos and then the nose piercing. “Trust me; they know they raised two super cool chicks.”

  “Let’s go and defend our street,” Carlie said and was off before April had time to respond.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  “Nice job, Paul.”

  “Thanks.” Paul put down the bullhorn and sighed. As soon as he had heard the shooting, even at this distance, he had known they’d breached one of the weak walls. Their simple plan had seemed to work. More people were going to die.

  “The white shirt and tie was a nice touch. I didn’t think you had those anymore,” his wife Miranda said, hugging Paul as he got behind one of the trucks.

  He was shaking but didn’t want anyone to see it.

  “Are you alright?” Miranda whispered in his ear, as she hugged Paul. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

  “I’m fine. Don’t do all this in front of everyone,” Paul said and pushed her away.

  Any sign of weakness would be used against him. Everyone thought Miranda was his sister. So far no one had messed with her but Paul knew a few of the guys had stared at her when she was around.

  Miranda wasn’t what you’d call a beauty but Paul loved her for what was inside.

  These men would take turns getting inside of her if he wasn’t always watching.

  Men were so disgusting, especially the group they’d been forced into for safety.

  When their leader had been bitten and put out of his misery a few weeks ago, everyone seemed to lose their minds. They weren’t interested in farming or raising chickens anymore. One of the insane had butchered all of the animals, including the dogs, and grilled them.

  That night they had a feast and talk of taking what they wanted began. Why waste their last days on this dying world with growing corn when you could take your neighbor’s corn?

  It was more than Paul could stand but he couldn’t open his mouth for fear they’d toss his dead body on the grill. Some of these people were now close to cannibalism.

  If they stayed and defeated whoever was across the bridge, the butchering would be brutal. So would the raping and every base human emotion would be gone from this group.

  Miranda would be passed around as property.

  The zombies weren’t the real enemy. Maybe they’d never been. At least with a zombie you knew the base urges and motivations. With other humans, it could be anything, and it was usually the worst things brought out in a crisis.

  “Once they begin the assault across the bridge we’re going to run away,” Paul said.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” Miranda asked.

  Paul nodded. “I did what I was forced to do.
My part is done. They all think I’m weak and maybe I am. I’m not going to die in a senseless battle for a piece of property I’ve never seen. We were happy for awhile, remember? Just the two of us. I’d rather die on the road than die because of these animals.”

  “We haven’t seen many zombies lately. Maybe they all died off. Lack of food,” Miranda said.

  “Maybe. We’re going to find out,” Paul said and almost hugged her again. He looked around to see a couple of men staring at him.

  An alarm had gone up across the river and a few of the men clapped, getting weapons ready for the assault.

  “This is it. Act like we’re going to head to the weapon’s truck and join in the fight,” Paul said.

  “We’ll need weapons. We should head to the truck, grab as much as we can, and take off.” Miranda smiled. “No matter what happens, I hope you know that I love you.”

  “Of course I do. You’re the only thing keeping me alive at this point. You know I would’ve curled up in the fetal position, when this started, and died without your help,” Paul said.

  “Then no matter what happens, let’s go find a quiet place to live the last of our days together,” Miranda said.

  Paul opened his mouth to talk but no words escaped.

  Miranda was confused at first when Paul slumped over in pain and fell into her arms, the red splotch spreading across his chest.

  She looked down, confused, to see she’d also been struck.

  All she could do was hug her husband, as they dropped to their knees.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Someone had picked a fight with the group about to storm over the bridge.

  Terry put his hand up so no one would do something stupid like join in. Who knew how many armed people were hiding behind these buildings at this point.

  They needed to keep clear and not get spotted. With any luck, Mister Borden would show with a big enough force they could slam through both sides of this fight before they knew what happened.

  Then Mister Borden would hopefully meet an untimely death and Terry would take over. No sense in having a zombie as his leader again. Terry was doing his best to shield his thoughts in case Borden could read them from this distance. He’d figured out how to do it whenever The Lich Lord was around and figured Borden wasn’t nearly as strong as his former master.