“How bad were the barricades wrecked?”
“Interior ones aren’t too bad, but the one on US-385 is all messed up. I got some pictures on my laptop if you want to see. Renee had someone use a digital camera and drop off the memory card. Anyway, Randall is going to take care of that. He’s planning to construct a proper wall with a dirt berm in front to make getting bombs right up to it harder.”
“Randall, now that is a fine looking man.”
One of Briana’s eyebrows went up. “Oh. Do you have some interest in him?”
“Six foot five and built like the Incredible Hulk, how can I not have interest?”
“You’d be squished if he ever rolled over in bed. I can see that putting a damper on things.”
“Won’t happen. Unfortunately, he’s got two lady friends and isn’t interested in any more, not that I would be willing to share.”
“We’ll find you someone,” said Briana, reassuringly.
“Don’t bother. I rather not get into the cutthroat world that is a woman trying to find a man, especially when they are so few and far between.”
“Time’s a ticking on by, you know.”
Steph laughed. “My biological clock is nowhere near running out. I don’t think I can handle any more children anyway.”
“That being the case, and since you don’t have anything more fun to do, I want you to check with Alan and see if all the animals are okay. Any which were hurt will probably be heading over to your kitchen. While you’re at it, see if there’s any way we can spread out the livestock and gardens even more. I don’t like to think what would have happened if the zombies had gotten into one of the farming valleys instead and tromped all over the crops.”
“We have enough that it won’t matter. The only thing that will have us going hungry is a full scale drought, and we have enough stored, along with what we can get from Yellowstone or airdropped from the islands, that it wouldn’t matter.”
“But…” prompted Briana.
“But, I’ll do it regardless.”
Chapter V
I dislike chemical weapons. Honestly, I do. For real, I am telling the truth. It isn’t due to some fanciful image of how the world should be – those thoughts are limited to wishing the zombies would go away – nor is it based on a sense of morality. After all, dead is dead. I see little difference in dying from gas, a bullet, artillery, or having a meteor plummet through the atmosphere only to slam into you at a gazillion miles an hour. My true gripe is that the prophet was in possession of this new weapon, whereas I lacked any means to counter the threat. We had helmets. We had body armor. What we did not have were gas masks.
As with our less than stellar initial battle, we pulled back and spent the next few days getting sorted out and reorganizing what we had left. The raiders did not advance, and considering their own losses, I believed they were doing the same. We were flailing in the wind and needed a new strategy, but no one cared for my suggestion. I wanted to call in the bombers and have them drop incendiaries. So what if there had been a lack of rain and I ended up burning down a good sized portion of Idaho and Wyoming? There’d been fires before and would be again. The trees will grow back. They always do. But no, the leadership in Yellowstone vetoed that right off, probably a bunch of whiny environmentalists. As if a piece of lumber is more important than a man’s life. Worse, Captain Briggs was adamant about honoring their wishes.
Unable to squeeze any other sort of help from the American military, which was still preoccupied with events elsewhere, we were left with two choices: go after the raiders directly or hunker down and let them come to us. The general consensus was that it was best to take the fight their way and save our defensive positions as a fall back point. Therefore, we were going to try yet again to find and destroy the bastards. The captain had come to the supply base in order to discuss this matter in more detail.
“I think we should move in two groups, Yellowstone and Black Hills. You take your people and head southwest. I’ll go northwest. We’ll put a few extra planes in the air to scout and keep the military choppers on standby. Once contact is made, those can be deployed, if the lay of the land allows for it.”
The enemy was certainly making good use of the terrain, better than we had. Being outnumbered was no fun either.
I nodded. “About what I was thinking. However, I am going to be very careful about pursuing the raiders. I want to avoid any other traps they might be planning.”
“That’s for fucking sure,” snarled Lizzy.
“I’ll leave men behind to guard the base,” I continued. “Some of my wounded are out of danger and don’t want to go home just yet. They can help cover things here. Carlson will be in charge. I’m going to try for some more volunteers from Clarksville too. I really want to take as many of the able bodied as I can, and if I can park a few more here, more of my own will be able to go with me.”
“I’m on the same wavelength,” replied Briggs, “and we do need to end this. I’m receiving plenty of inquiries as to whether or not more women and children should to be sent to the Black Hills. The people are worried.”
“We’ll take them if they want to go, no problem there. Still, Yellowstone is huge, and it’s hard to get around. Even if we blow this, I don’t think there will be any immediate danger. Everyone is well armed, and the raiders will have a terrible time just finding them.”
“Why don’t we get even more to come and help?” asked Mary. “There have to be people who can be spared from whatever else they’re doing.”
She was sitting by the radio in case something came through. Otherwise it was just me, the captain, and Lizzy under the tarp. Briggs still thought it strange that I allowed my sixteen year old daughter to know everything, but I didn’t much care. Mary was intelligent, trustworthy, and I knew I could depend on her.
“Because it’s fucking hard to go out and fight,” snapped Lizzy. “Oh, it’s easy enough to shoot if people are running at you. Any fucking idiot can do that. It takes shitheads like us to go into the trees after them.” She stopped and took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. “And we never got around to training everyone. Most don’t have a clue as to what they should be doing, not outside of playing defense. They’d hurt more than help.”
“We couldn’t train everyone,” I countered. “Some just aren’t suited for it, either physically or psychologically. Far less want to do it full time or even part time. The best we could manage is a tiny permanent cadre and a solid group that is ready to respond in a crisis. And even then, we have to plant crops, harvest the crops, build cabins, make sure the kids learn to read and write. There are other, important things that need doing.”
“Yellowstone is the same way,” said Briggs. “We are more formal, but the essential structure remains. It’s simply not possible to keep such a large portion of the population under arms at all times or even a significant portion of the time. And, while this is a crisis, the lack of training and sufficient gear for everyone comes into play.”
“I hate logic,” said Mary.
“It can be a bitch,” I agreed.
“Only I get to swear,” mumbled Lizzy, to herself. “Too fucking much of it too.” She looked at the captain. “How soon do you want to move?”
“Day after tomorrow, a couple hours before dawn. Let’s get close while it’s still dark. Maybe that will throw them off.”
* * *
“Mary, say hello to Asher.” I handed her the receiver.
“Hello, little brother.”
I could just hear the cries of “Mary!” on the other end of the line. Asher adores his big sister.
“What comes after twelve?” she asked.
“Thirteen!”
The boy loves number games too.
Lizzy passed by. “Tell everyone I said hi.”
“Sure thing,” I replied.
Today was Asher’s third birthday, and I decided, with no hesitation whatsoever, to abuse my position and place a call to Briana. We did go o
ver official business briefly, which mostly consisted of her giving me the status of the Black Hills following the attack there. Defenses were being rebuilt and strengthened, and patrols were triple checking to be certain there were no more zombies lurking about. There’d been no sign of the raiders, but everyone was keeping a lookout. Every so often, the planes would range much further than normal to determine if another herd of the shambling dead was on its way. They hadn’t found any yet.
It sucked missing my son’s birthday, especially now that he was old enough to sort of grasp the concept of it being his extra special day. Briana, Steph, and the others would be certain to give him lots of attention, and we had already selected some presents which I wrapped prior to leaving for Yellowstone. He should have fun, and there would be photos and videos I could watch once I returned. This assumes I don’t get killed in the meantime.
“Tell Briana that Lizzy said hi.” I patted Mary on the shoulder and headed to where Harvey and the other squad leaders were waiting. There were a few things I needed to go over, and I’d already spent an unreasonable amount of time speaking with my wife and son. “Tell her that we’ll be back soon too.”
* * *
When it came time to get going, I departed with squads one through three. Four was staying behind with Carlson, as were Michael and the others from Clarksville. Accompanying me were Lizzy and the twins. Mary had wanted to come, and at first I refused. She was good on the radio, as well as dependable, but my daughter was quick to point out that with just the two big groups, there wasn’t any reason for her to remain behind. Also, she could call the helicopters right to us whenever I thought they were needed – Mary was equipped with her own satellite uplink and GPS device. I received a whole lot of glares from Lizzy when I told Carlson to man the radio in her place.
Captain Briggs was taking forty men. I had thirty six accompanying me. We were armed as before with the only exception being extra grenades and ammunition. We’d be ranging further out this time, and I wasn’t as certain about Xavier flying in to drop off supplies. It hadn’t really been a problem, but I was feeling anything but confident. Additionally, everyone was equipped with night vision goggles. It wouldn’t do to be walking into trees. That can lead to bruising, concussions, and plenty of mockery.
The first three hours were dull. Nothing happened, and there was no sign of the raiders. I purposely avoided the spot where our people had been impaled. That would be taken care of soon enough, mere hours after we were certain the prophet was no longer a threat. Also, I didn’t want Mary seeing it. Well, I didn’t want a close look either. That might be unavoidable, but I could hope.
“Captain Briggs has engaged a group of them,” said Mary. “They just called in.”
“Where at?”
She checked the map. “About four miles away. The guy giving me the details said they caught a huge band by surprise. There are maybe two hundred of them. Correction, there were two hundred. The captain went quiet when they were spotted and got everyone in place. That’s why I didn’t know until just now. They started off with the grenade launchers and a pair of mortars. He had real soldiers fire them, and they hit a big clump right in the middle. Two of the Pave Hawks are going there now.”
“What about us? Any sign of the raiders Kimberly mentioned?”
Mary relayed that request and was quick with an answer.
“She said there are definitely people ahead of us, but they all started moving west once Captain Briggs began fighting. She thinks they got told about it through their own radios.”
I frowned. “They aren’t going to help their friends?”
“Nope. They are moving away from us and nowhere close to the fight. Not very many of them though,” she added. “Maybe they want to get together first.”
“Maybe. Lizzy, what do you think?”
“I say we follow. We can’t let any of fuckers get away.”
“Agreed. Let’s keep moving.”
* * *
Another two hours of marching. We were moving fast, and Kimberly thought she knew where the raiders were going. It was well away from the general area where we’d been fighting, but people had been spotted there on and off, mostly with the heat sensing technology. The tree cover was unusually heavy with only a handful of open spots that might allow for visual detection. It was possibly a base of some sort, maybe holding their own supplies. Since the captain had things under control, I chose to continue.
Regarding Captain Briggs, he was still engaged with the enemy. The initial strike killed or wounded plenty of raiders, and while they tried to fight back, he was in the superior position. Still, the resistance lasted until the choppers appeared. A few took pot shots at them, but the prophet’s cronies lacked the weapons necessary to effectively combat military helicopters. The pilots were able to drop down low and really put their armament to effect.
The Pave Hawks drove the enemy back, and the captain split his forces in two, moving in a curving fashion so he could follow from the sides. If any traps had been planned, they came to nothing, and the Yellowstone militia soon re-engaged. Xavier ended up making a run to drop off ammunition and recover some of the injured, our people only. No raiders were permitted to surrender, assuming the attempt was made, and their wounded received a bullet to the head. I’m fairly certain Captain Briggs is opposed, at last philosophically, to such behavior, but there was no way he could prevent the Yellowstone militia from taking out their frustration and hatred on the fallen. I doubt if he tried.
As far as we go, did I mention there were two more hours of marching with the only interesting thing being Mary’s updates, along with a report of how quiet it was at the supply base from Carlson? I was getting tired, and my feet hurt. At least we were almost to the spot Kimberly had indicated.
A man hurried back from the front. “Jacob, our forward scouts found a campsite. Some raiders are there moving gear around.”
“Okay, let’s spread out. We’ll try to do like Briggs and get everyone in place unseen so we can hammer them.”
My luck being what it is, this didn’t work as intended. I managed to get squad two in the center with one and three on the flanks in a U shaped formation. However, before we could get everyone close enough, a raider spotted one of my guys and opened fire. We, of course, did the same. None of us, not even the scouts, had gotten a good look at the enemy’s placement. We didn’t know what we were facing. We weren’t sure how many they had. There was nothing we could do about any of this, so I ordered a general advance.
“Lizzy, see if you can get an idea of what’s happening to the left.”
She nodded and scurried off.
“What’s wrong?” asked Mary. “They aren’t being pushed back. We have to have them outgunned. It sounds like it.”
My daughter and the twins were clumped around me. As before, I was right behind Harvey’s squad, in the general center of things.
“They aren’t advancing either.” I dropped to a crouch. “Come on. I need to see what’s happening.”
Tara and Dale were quick to take the lead, and I followed their route, moving between intermittent pieces of cover. Mary was beside me, her Uzi held tightly in both hands. It was only twenty or thirty yards to where members of squad two were lying prone, and I slid into a thicket so I could see what was going on, hopefully without the enemy spotting me in return. Yes, I know we make near constant use of brambles, undergrowth, and any other thick vegetation we find, but the tactic really does work, even if removing the splinters and burrs later is a nuisance.
“The ones on the right are falling back,” I observed, “but not by much. I think their actual facility or whatever is more to the left near squad one. Mary, go tell squad three to swing around and move forward. We’re facing the wrong direction.”
As with Lizzy, she kept low to the ground and made certain a good number of trees remained between her and the mass of bullets. The raiders seemed to be in more of a panic than usual. They were shooting in our general direction, oft
en neglecting to take aim. That was not like them.
The twins unslung their sniper rifles, separated so they were no longer next to me, and began picking off targets. I know I’ve said it time and time again, but those two are spectacular shots. They don’t hesitate. They do not panic. Tara and Dale are as close to killing machines as a person can get, and they proved this once more. With seven raiders cut down in a matter of seconds, and the others not seeming to realize this came from snipers instead of the militia firing their M-16s, the enemy’s ranks began to waver.
Squad three suddenly rushed forward. Seeing this, Harvey shifted his men as well. The line moved, putting all our guns against the area the raiders seemed so concerned about protecting. They apparently realized their danger because the assholes pulled back.
“Advance!” I shouted.
No one on squad one or three could have heard me, but Harvey did. He glanced back to ensure I was the one yelling before he was up and running forward. I really should have used the radio to give the order, and I followed up in that manner.
“Dad!” Mary returned and fell into step beside me once more. “No one over in squad three is hurt.”
That was good to know. I hated losing people. I hated having them get hurt too.
“Go check with Lizzy and see what the status over there is.”
As she darted off, we broke into one of the rare clearings that speckled this area of the forest. My militia stopped immediately, remaining within the tree line and the scant protection and cover it provided. The raiders were in full retreat. They crossed the eighty or so feet to the opposite wood and dove behind some boulders. The way they moved led me to believe there were no mines or obstacles – they had fled in a spread out mass, seemingly without any sort of plan.
Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation Page 14
