I could see Spec-4 was grinning at our exchange.
“How many of you are there?”
“Just two left out of six. It’s me and an EMT. The rest are dead. Well, sort of.”
“Understood,” I said. “Hang on, I’m coming.”
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving without you.”
“That’s good,” I said, grinning, “Because you’re gonna have to kick in for gas.”
“Wylie?”
“Yeah, Chuck.”
“Less than 15 would be much appreciated.”
“Copy that, brother. 829 out.”
Up ahead, I saw the overpass for Valley Water Mill Road. There wasn’t a ramp on the north side of the overpass, so I had to improvise. I drove under it, and then cut back up the other side onto the on ramp. I was going against traffic, but really couldn’t care less for traffic laws at the moment. When I hit the top of the overpass, I took a sharp left and accelerated hard.
“Easy, there,” said Spec-4. “Wylie, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said, carefully watching the road.
“I’m Corporal Chrissy Wilder. 1138th Military Police Company.”
“Good to meet you. Sorry, but I didn’t catch your name earlier. I’ve been mentally calling you Spec-4, all this me.”
“That’s ok. Keller and I were calling you guys Badge 1, 2 and 3.”
“Keller? I guess he was E-2. Sorry about that,” I said.
“Yeah, you too.”
“Shu was alright, but I can’t say I’ll miss Henderson.”
“You mean Deputy Henderson,” she said, smiling. “Yeah, I can’t say I’ll miss him, either.”
“You caught that, did you?”
“Yeah, like you and Shu weren’t shit.”
“We get that a lot from most of the roadies.”
I explained about the difference between roadie and jailer. All the while, I kept a close eye on the road. I was passing through a residential area and there were quite a few zombies around. Some were busy eating. What, I didn’t want to know. Others tried to chase us, but we were moving way too fast for them. This road was mostly clear and I was clocking close to 60 MPH.
“Do you mind reloading all the weapons?” I asked, holding my Glock out for her to take.
She took it without hesitation.
“I’m already on it.”
I’d been too busy watching the road to notice.
“Would you like an inventory of what we have on hand?”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
“Can do,” said Spec-4.
Sorry, old habits die hard and I would probably always mentally call her by that nick-name. It was pretty much rooted in my brain, now.
“We’ve got two assault rifles, three shotguns and five pistols,” she said. “That includes yours. Probably a couple hundred rounds of ammo of various calibers and eight magazines for the rifles. The pistols and shotguns are all reloaded.”
She handed me back my Glock and reached over and put two fresh mags in the empty holder on my belt. I shoved the Glock in my holster and kept driving.
“Great job,” I said, “and thanks. I’ve got a bad feeling we’ll need these before we make it back.”
She smiled, but didn’t say anything. But she did lay my Mossberg right next to my right leg. She’d refilled the sling bandolier and reloaded it for me.
“What did you say you did in the Army?”
“I didn’t,” I replied, grinning.
“You take charge like a crusty old Sergeant Major,” she said, fishing.
I just smiled.
I had to swerve to avoid a pair of zombies in the middle of the road that were eating what looked like an elderly woman.
“I may need you to open the turret hatch,” I said. “Can you crawl in the back?”
“No problem, Sar-Major,” she replied, and nimbly climbed into the back seat.
Then she reached up and snagged her M-16 and the two Berettas. She already had one holster clipped to her Interceptor vest, so she took the other holster off of E-2’s Interceptor and clipped it on. Then she tucked away extra magazines for both weapons into the mag pouches.
About that time, we were approaching a curve in the road. We were almost at the Valley Water Mill Park, so I slowed almost to a stop. It was a good thing I did, too. Just around the corner, I discovered the burning wreckage of a County Charger and an ambulance lying on its side. There were several civilian cars in the ditch around them, as well. The road was completely blocked off.
Seeing no other options, I cut the wheel to the left. We bounced through the ditch and crashed through a wire fence on the other side. The powerful Humvee had no problems at all going through both. No sense having such a powerful vehicle if you weren’t going to use it. Once I cleared the fence, I turned to the right and slid sideways into the parking lot of Valley Water Mill Park. I stopped to survey the scene ahead of me.
About fifty yards away was the visitor’s center. It was a small building, only about 15 by 15. On the roof I saw one person in familiar patrol gray and one in blue EMT gear. Surrounding the visitor’s center was about twenty five zombies with more heading our way from the houses on the far side of the lake. One of the zombies was in patrol gray and three more were in jail black. I recognized them all.
The Roadie was Corporal Steve O’Brien. O’Brien was pretty cool, for a roadie. He was one of the few who didn’t treat us like gum on his shoe. The jail officers were Dave Martin, Amy Gillespie and Raul Rodriguez. Martin and Rodriguez were on C shift, so I knew them well. Gillespie was on my shift, and she was a friend. They all had families with kids.
“Can you do me a favor?” I asked my voice tight in my throat. “I can’t leave them like that and I’m not sure I can do it myself.”
Spec-4 reached up and gently squeezed my shoulder, once. Then she popped out of the turret hatch, in an instant. The girl had to be psychic or something. Four shots rang out from her M-16. The four uniformed officers fell, without taking another step. In a flash, she was back inside and slamming the hatch shut. Before I could say anything at all, the radio came to life.
“Holy shit, Wylie,” said Southard. “Nice entrance.”
I gave Spec-4 a quick nod of appreciation and keyed the mic.
“Thanks, Chuck. Here we come. I’m gonna go bowling for zombies. When we stop, jump onto the roof. You can climb in through the turret hatch. Make it quick because there are more of those damned things on the way.”
“Got it.”
“Try not to miss,” I said.
“If I do, I won’t be around long enough for you to tell me I told you so.”
I lined up my approach, then headed in hard. We slammed into a group of zombies with bone crushing results. At least six went flying and I felt more than a couple crunch under the wheels. Then I locked up the brakes and slid to a stop, right next to the visitor’s center’s eastern-most wall. Instantly, I heard one followed by a second thud on the roof. Spec-4 threw open the hatch and Southard shoved the EMT inside. After the EMT scrambled into the back seat, Southard came in head first and dove into the passenger side front seat.
Spec-4 slammed the hatch shut and latched it as the first of the zombies began to climb onto the back of the vehicle. I punched the accelerator and sped away from the building, scattering zombies in my wake. In the mirror, I could see three or four bouncing along the ground as they fell off. I crashed through another section of fence and bounced back onto the road.
I had to continue down Valley Water Mill, since the wreckage blocked off the road behind us. If I tried to go back the way I came, I’d have to run the gauntlet of angry zombies that were now swarming like hornets. Going back that way seemed like pushing my luck.
“Damn, Wylie,” said Southard as he righted himself in the seat. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see your ugly face.”
“Good to see you too, Chuck. Are either of you bit?”
“Nope. We’re the lucky ones, though. If it hadn’t
been for that maintenance ladder, we’d have been zombie kibble.”
“What ladder?”
“It was on the roof with us. I pulled it up after we climbed up there.”
“Good plan,” I said. “Where’re your weapons?”
“I still have my Glock, but the shotgun was in the Charger.”
“How’d you end up out here in the middle of nowhere? I didn’t think that there were any checkpoints out this way.”
“We weren’t supposed to be out here,” he replied. “O’Brien and I were escorting the ambulance back to the hospital with a VIP patient.”
“Who was it?” asked Spec-4.
“The Sheriff’s wife,” replied Southard.
“What happened?” I asked.
“She turned inside the ambulance and attacked the crew. It couldn’t have been at a worse time, either. We were almost surrounded when the ambulance started swerving and collided with a civilian car. Then it flipped onto its side in the ditch. We got hit by swerving traffic and caught fire. The five of us were in my car and we all got out. We fought our way to the ambulance and we only managed to save one of the crew. Then we headed for the visitor’s center, but we didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry, Chuck,” I said, softly.
“We hit them with everything we had, but it wasn’t enough. I ran out of ammo and O’Brien told me to run. So I shoved the EMT towards the ladder and hoped for the best. I thought they were right behind me, but no one else made it. I pulled up the ladder and watched those fucking things eat my friends. There were so many of them and they just kept coming. I wanted to do more, but I was out of ammo and my asp[2] was in the car.”
“You did everything you could, Chuck,” I said. “You did your best. It’s a miracle that any of you survived.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled sourly, “fucking miraculous.”
Chapter Five
The Gauntlet
“All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.""
- Edmund Burke
We drove in silence for a few minutes, until we were approaching Springfield city limits. We were emerging at Glenstone Avenue, right where it turns into H Highway. We were passing through a residential area, and the dead were everywhere. Overturned vehicles were burning, houses were burning and chaos reigned supreme in the streets. Everywhere you looked was blood and death. It wasn’t a big stretch of the imagination to believe that this truly was the end of the world or whatever you wanted to call it. If this was happening everywhere, then humanity was finished.
We were seeing fewer and fewer signs of life. That’s when we arrived at the stoplight next to a convenience store, or what we referred to as a “Stop ‘n’ Rob.” There were a large number of zombies, and they were chasing people around the parking lot. The Stop ‘n’ Rob had been completely taken. Next to it in a strip mall was a Dollar Store with several other small stores. A crowd of zombies was trying to get in the doors, and we could see survivors trying their best to keep them out by holding the doors shut. Some were piling anything they could find against the doors and windows.
Southard and I exchanged glances, and he took a deep breath and sighed.
“I know that look,” he said, frowning.
“Better hand out the weapons,” I said to Spec-4.
She quickly handed Southard three magazines for his Glock and one of the M-16’s. I took an extra Glock and my Mossberg. Spec-4 handed one of her Berettas to the EMT, but he looked at it like it was going to bite him.
“Have you ever fired a gun before?” I asked.
“Not really. Unless you count all the first person shooter games I’ve played on my X-box.”
“This isn’t a video game,” said Spec-4, shaking her head.
I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. Spec-4 took the pistol back from him and handed him a Remington shotgun.
“Here,” she said. “This is the trigger and the bullets come out of the end of the long tube. You put another round into the chamber by working the pump like this.”
She worked the action on the Remington and chambered a live round.
“There. Now you’re ready to get your hands dirty,” she added, giving him a sour look.
Grabbing her M-16, she gave me a nod.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Wylie?” asked Southard. “No one would blame you for not getting involved. We can just drive away. We don’t have enough people to mount a rescue.”
Yes, I’m sure. People are alive in there. I won’t just leave them to die.”
Southard shook his head, but checked his weapons over and got ready.
“So, what’s the plan?” asked Spec-4.
“Well,” I said, “if we’re going to do this, then we might as well do it right.”
“What have you got in mind?” asked Southard.
After a moment’s hesitation, I exhaled slowly.
“Here’s what I’m thinking. I only count sixty or so.”
“Yeah, only sixty fucking zombies,” said Southard. “No sweat.”
“As long as we don’t let them get too close to us, we might just pull this off and get out of it alive. Spec-4…uh...sorry…Wilder, you take the turret with your M-16. Chuck, you pop out on your side and use the hood as a rest for yours. Make your shots count, folks. There’re civilians in there.”
“You do remember that we took on less than that back at the road block and lost three people, right?” said Spec-4.
“I remember,” I replied, “but last time they weren’t distracted. They won’t know we’re here until we’re already shooting. If they get too close, we’ll button down inside the Humvee.”
“What about me?” asked EMT.
“You cover that side, and protect Southard. I’ll cover this side and do the same for Wilder. Got it?”
“Why don’t I take that side and you cover Southard?” said EMT.
“Because I’m driving and it makes more sense to keep me on this side of the vehicle.”
“I can drive,” said EMT.
“Have you ever driven a Humvee?” asked Spec-4.
“Well, er, uh, does playing Call of Duty count?” he asked.
“No,” said Spec-4, contemptuously.
“Well then, no,” said EMT, looking down.
“Well, I have,” I said. “So have both Wilder and Southard. But they have the rifles and their own assignments.”
“Fine, I’ll cover this freakin’ side,” said EMT, pouting.
“Ok, then. On three,” I said. “One. Two. THREE!”
We all jumped out of the vehicle and Spec-4 popped out of the turret hatch. I let the Mossberg hang by its strap around my neck and pulled my Glocks. Spec-4 fired first, and a zombie head exploded just as it reached a running woman. Southard and I followed suit.
Ragnarok Rising: The Awakening (Book One of The Ragnarok Rising Saga) Page 7
