As we emerged along-side 65, the chorus of Shriekers continued. Sprinters ran to the fence and tried to get over. Fortunately for us, zombies could run but they couldn’t climb very well. Enough of them could easily knock down the fence, which is exactly what they were trying to do. By the time the first group got through, we were all safely past them.
The farther we went, the more attention we attracted. By the time we reached the next intersection, I was really starting to get worried. I considered taking a side street that ran under 65, but there were lots of zombies already leaping off to try to get to us. I kept going north and hoped for the best.
There were fewer abandoned cars down this far, and I was able to speed up. When we reached the overpass next to a golf course, I could see that there were already zombies on the road ahead of us. I didn’t have a choice, now. I locked up the brakes and slowed almost to a stop. Then I turned left and crossed 65 on the overpass. This took us west, alongside a couple large car dealerships.
This street was clear as far as I could tell, and we took off as fast as we could. I was doing almost fifty when we bounced over the railroad tracks. I was back in my element, now. I knew these streets very well. I have friends that live in this area. When we got back into the residential streets, I started slowing down.
“What the hell are you doing?” asked Spec-4.
“I know someone who lives close to here. I want to check and see if he’s alive.”
“Do you think it’s likely?”
“If anyone is, it’ll be this guy. Even if he’s not there, he’s an archery nut. He has all kinds of archery gear.”
“What good does that do us?”
“I’ve been bow-hunting for years. I can use a bow. That gives us an advantage that guns don’t.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“Silence,” I replied. “You can’t hear an arrow from a mile away. Heck, if done right they won’t hear it at all.”
“They reload a bit slow for my tastes,” said Spec-4, smiling.
“True, but they do give us one hell of a tactical advantage,” I said, returning the smile.
As I turned left onto the street next to the stoplight, the SINCGARS came to life.
“Hey, dude,” said Southard. “Where the heck are we going?”
“Making a quick pit stop,” I replied. “Gonna check on a buddy of mine.”
“Copy that,” he replied. “Thanks for the warning.”
“No prob,” I shot back, chuckling. “Just try and keep up, this time.”
“We’ll stay right on your six unless you start yard-farming again,” he returned. “Last time you put a Humvee out of action.”
“I got us home first, didn’t I?”
“That you did, and that’s why we’re still behind you,” he said.
“For now,” I said, sarcastically.
“For as long as you want to lead,” he replied, seriously.
“Copy that,” I replied. “Stay alert and watch our backs.”
“You got it,” he answered, “Out.”
I took the next left onto a little side street. The street was almost completely clear. Only a couple cars were left abandoned in the ditches on either side of the road. The house I was looking for was a couple blocks down on my right. I was expecting the little two bedroom cottage I’d been to many times before. What I found surprised me.
Instead of the well manicured lawn with the little house in the middle of it, I found almost a bunker. There were cars that had been pulled up on their sides blocking access to the little house. Panels that had been pulled off of privacy fences in the area were nailed over the windows and door. There were more than a few zombie bodies laying in the yard, arrows protruding from their foreheads.
“Looks like John’s home,” I said as I pulled into the yard, ignoring the driveway. “Cover me, I’m getting out.”
Spec-4 and I climbed out at the same time and brought our weapons to bear. We swept the area in opposite directions.
“I don’t know who you are, but if you’re looking for trouble you’ve found it,” said a familiar voice from above me.
I looked up onto the roof of the little house and into the business end of a horn bow I’d seen many times before but never from this angle.
“It’s me John,” I said. “It’s Wylie.”
“Wyle?” he said, lowering the bow. “Holy shit, man, how’d you get here?”
“In some borrowed Humvees.”
“I see that,” he said. “Is the sheriff’s department pulling out civilians, now?”
“What’s left of us? I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by. Do you want to go with us?”
“Yeah, I think I will,” he said, with some reluctance. “I don’t think I can hold this much longer.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Not as many as I planned for. Brandon headed out of town at the first sign of imminent death.”
Brandon was a good friend of both of ours. I really hoped he got out. Brandon was a great guy, but not a combatant. He’d be better off out of the hot zone.
“I hope he made it. The roads are pretty bad.”
“Yeah, that’s why I decided to stay put,” said John. “Besides, the only place I know to run to got hit long before we did.”
“I sent Karen and the boys to the lake. They’re on the boat.”
“They should be safe there, so long as they stay in deep water.”
“They are,” I said. “They’re safe and they’re armed.”
“Good,” he said, scratching his goatee.
“I hate to rush you two,” said Spec-4, “but we need to get going ASAP.”
“Let’s go, John. Get your gear and everyone that’s going and let’s move.”
“It’s just me,” he replied.
“Where’s Sandra?” I asked.
“She was at work when everything went to hell,” he said. “I haven’t heard from her.”
“What about the others?”
“Not at home,” he replied, sadly. “I don’t know where they are.”
“Grab your gear, then,” I said. “We’ll leave them a note. Tell them they can find us at the jail.”
John nodded and disappeared back over the top of the house. Spec-4 and I covered the area while we waited. There weren’t any zombies around. In fact, the area was eerily silent. It was unnerving how quiet things got when you were used to the sounds of life in a city. There should have been traffic, kids playing, people mowing their yards. There was always something. Now it was as silent as the proverbial tomb.
I busied myself while we waited for John. I recovered his arrows for him. All in all, I pulled six arrows out of zombie skulls. By the time I finished, I saw John coming out of the garage door. He pulled it shut behind him. Then he slapped a hand-written note to the front of it and stuck it with a piece of duct tape. I helped him toss three bags into the backseat of our Humvee. One was full of arrows and fletching equipment. One was field gear and food. The third was exactly what I would expect from John Banner. It was full of books.
“I see you only brought the necessities,” I said, smiling.
“Absolutely,” he replied. “It ain’t worth surviving if I don’t have anything to read.”
We piled inside and locked the doors. Seconds later, I was cutting a wide turn through the yard. Once back on track, I took us back the way we came in. From there, it was only a matter of retracing our route back to the jail. The only close call we had was at the overpass. There were more zombie jumpers, but no hits this time. We rode pretty much in silence on the way back. I knew John was upset and let it go, for now. We’d talk later. When we made it to the square, I took Spec-4’s radio and turned it on. Setting it back on Jail Frequency, I keyed up.
“829 to 700,” I said.
“Go ahead, 829.”
“We are five minutes out,” I said. “Have medical standing by for wounded. Tell Maddie to get ready to pull a bullet out of Cal Sanders and I
think Southard may need stitches.”
“Copy that. We’ll be standing by to receive.”
“829 out,” I said, ending the transmission.
A few minutes later, we rolled through the back gate and into the intake area. Sheriff Daniels was waiting with an armed team to cover us as we rolled in. Medical was there, as well. Sanders was grabbed right away, despite trying to resist.
“Listen to me, young man,” said Maddie. “You can get on the gurney on your own or you can just wake up there.”
“What?” asked Cal, surprised.
With that, Maddie reached up and grabbed a handful of Cal’s left ear with her right hand. While Cal was saying “Ouch” and reaching for her hand, Maddie’s left hand shot out like a striking rattlesnake. The syringe in her hand struck its mark. As she emptied the contents into Cal’s neck, his eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled. Sheriff Daniels and I each grabbed an arm and groaned as we hefted Cal’s big frame up and onto the gurney.
“I warned him,” she said, mischief gleaming in her eyes.
“Maddie, I’m glad you’re on our side,” I said.
“Let’s get him up to medical,” Maddie said to the medical staff.
They quickly whisked Cal away.
“That little woman scares the hell out of me,” said Daniels.
“She’s one of a kind,” I said.
We finished unloading the spoils from this trip and let medical check each of us out. Then I headed inside to give the Sheriff and Lieutenant Murdock my After-Action Review. I wasn’t looking forward to it, either. This trip had been expensive. Yeah, I’d saved a few lives, but lost just as many. Good men who risked it all to save others. Good men that I couldn’t even give a decent burial to. I was going to have to live with that. I wonder if I ever will.
Chapter Eighteen
Get Out of Town
“Better fifty enemies outside the house than one within”
- Irish Saying
After the AAR, I really wasn’t in the mood to be social. I went into the break room and snagged a tray-full of food, not really paying attention to what it was and headed for my appropriated quarters. I shut the door behind me and sat the tray on the desk. I remember reaching for the salt packets when the shakes hit me. This time it wasn’t some little tremor in the hands. It was a full-blown episode.
I awoke on the floor in the fetal position. I have no idea how long I was there, but it must have been a while. The room was dark and my body hurt all over. I felt sick and my head was killing me. I knew that there was something wrong with me, something pretty serious. It was more than nerves, and I knew it. But there was no way that I could tell medical about it now. They’d sideline me and take me out of the fight. That was unacceptable.
I sat up and climbed into the chair by the desk. The unrecognizable mystery lunch was cold and stiff. That was fine with me since I was pretty sure my stomach wasn’t open for business. I started to get up when I saw the Bushmills bottle sitting on the back of the desk.
“What the hell,” I muttered, and reached for the bottle.
After a long pull, my nerves subsided to the point where I felt like I could function. At least, I was pretty sure I could. I placed the bottle back where I’d gotten it from and stood up. The room spun a little and I felt weak in the knees, but it settled down after a couple minutes. When I was steady on my feet, I grabbed the tray of gruel and headed out the door. I was almost to the break room when Spec-4 and Southard caught up with me. They’d been down at the other end of the hallway, by the kitchen.
“Wylie,” called Spec-4, “wait up.”
I stopped at the break room door and waited for them to catch up with me. They were both wearing fresh uniforms and looked like they’d been in the shower far more recently than I had. I was mildly jealous of that, but I let it slide.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked, walking into the break room.
“We finished inventorying the weapons we got from the last run,” said Southard. “We already cleaned them and put them in the stash of supplies for your lake run.”
“Thanks,” I said, without much enthusiasm.
“Wylie, are you ok?” asked Spec-4.
“I will be,” I lied. “I’m just tired from everything. How’s Cal?”
“Maddie pulled two bullets out of him and patched him up,” replied Southard. “He’ll be down for a while. She managed to find a couple people with the same blood type as Cal, which is lucky since he’d lost quite a bit of it.”
“Where the hell is everybody?” I asked.
“The Sheriff took Weber, Matthews, Andrews and Blake and headed out to try and rescue the officers trapped on the hospital roof,” answered Spec-4.
“Jesus,” I swore, “how long have they been gone?”
“A couple hours or so,” replied Southard. “They’ve been checking in regularly on the radio. They used our tactic and set off an explosion on the other side of the tracks. They managed to draw off most of the crowd of dead-heads.”
“Are they trying to get into the hospital?” I asked.
“Nope,” replied Spec-4. “They’re using the emergency fire stairs. Last time they checked in, they said they were almost ready to go in.”
“I hope they make it,” I said. “Which vehicle did they take?”
“Two of the Humvees,” replied Southard.
“We’ll keep our fingers crossed that they make it back in one piece,” said Spec-4.
“Yeah,” I replied. “So what weapons did we get on our last outing?”
“Four M-16’s and two AA-12’s,” said Spec-4. “Plus eight pistols, all of them in .45 ACP. I’m pretty sure they’re all Springfield Arms Mil-specs. These guys were way too well organized to be some mob of looters.”
“That’s exactly what I thought, too,” I replied. “Probably some militia group or survivalists.”
“We also snagged a few hundred rounds of ammo in all those calibers,” said Southard. “These guys were armed for bear. But where they really impressed me was in the ammo, itself.”
“What’s so special about the ammo?”
“Well, the 5.56mm and the .45 are pretty standard,” he replied. “But the ammo for the shotguns is awesome. It’s that new Winchester Supreme Elite ammo.”
I whistled aloud at that one. The Supreme Elite was awesome shit, alright. It combined a slug with three pellets of .00 buckshot all in one little black casing. I’ve read about this ammo, but never actually had any of it. This stuff would knock a fist sized hole in a target without any trouble. This was some serious firepower. Probably what hit me in the chest armor.
“Yeah, I’d say they weren’t screwing around,” I said. “They were ready to lay down some serious hurt. Too bad we walked into it blind.”
“They paid for that,” said Spec-4, with a grim look on her face.
Ragnarok Rising: The Awakening (Book One of The Ragnarok Rising Saga) Page 47
