Zomblog 05: Snoe's War

by T. W. Brown

  I eventually grew tired of that game and told her to knock it off. When I asked her why my lugging rocks like everybody else was such a big deal, she just laughed some more.

  Selina was nowhere to be found and I was stunned when I discovered that she had volunteered to go with the perimeter patrols and keep an eye out for any walkers. As for Betty, she was right in there with me and never once made fun.

  As we started rolling, a crowd lined the tracks. I would guess that there were at least five hundred people seeing us off. If I ever had any doubts about keeping my heritage to myself, this sealed it for good.

  I honestly do not understand.

  Saturday, March 27th

  We reached Irony yesterday and it is unlike any place I have ever seen in my life. For one, the main part of the city is up on a huge plateau at least a hundred feet tall. Then there are the outlying residences. The trees are full of homes and bridges that lead from one to the other.

  And the hills that surround the plateau are dotted with watch towers that provide a full three-sixty of protection. The slopes are all gardens…or, I should say, are all greenhouses that are full of gardens. This place has windmills as well as water-powered turbines that provide power to the community.

  Also, they have guns. To be specific, these are muzzle-loaded, black powder rifles, but still…guns.

  They have a lab and a hospital that are far and away beyond anything that I have ever seen in my life. And then there is the military base.

  Set apart from the actual community are a few dozen Quonset huts on a smaller plateau that you can see from the southern tip of Irony. As we pulled in, we saw all sorts of small groups involved in what I had to assume was training. They were running with packs that looked like they weighed at least fifty pounds and climbing walls, fences and all manner of obstacles. It was certainly nothing like EEF training.

  When we pulled in, there was a large group of people at the platform to meet us. I could tell as soon as we stepped off the train that everybody (at least the ones I could see) was happy with the absence of Dominique.

  Once again I was confused. If all of these people hated her so badly, why didn’t anybody take her down? I cannot fathom why they would tolerate being controlled by a person they so obviously hated. After all, she was just one person.

  That was when the commotion ended the happy arrival.

  A group of thirty men (I eventually was able to count them, but at the moment it just seemed like lots) were being dragged down to the town square of Irony. Right away, William and a few others stepped in front of me like they were trying to protect me. I had to push through to see and imagine that, once they decided the threat was not to me, they allowed me to actually see what was happening.

  “Members of The Genesis Brotherhood,” a woman read from a piece of paper—I will get back to that later—as the group of men were all forced to their knees in a tight group, “you have been found guilty of crimes against humanity. Your actions are punishable by death. Do you have any final words?”

  “Under whose authority do you act?” one of the men spoke. “I act under the authority of the Almighty God and I can assure you that my death here in the physical world will be nothing when I am given the keys to paradise.”

  “You better hope you’re right,” somebody from the gathered crowd shouted.

  “The president will have all of your—” another of the men kneeling started, but was cut off.

  “Dominique DuBois is dead,” William announced. “Her reign of terror is over.”

  This brought quite a response from all those who heard. And that is when the shooting started. Here is what I know as I sit in this tower with fires burning all around.

  It would seem that William and Major Carson both sent messages ahead to the people in their faction. Interestingly enough, both sides had little in the way of a time advantage. Our messenger reached William’s people at about the same time that theirs did, and our train arrived less than twenty minutes later.

  The NAA is split—although Dominique’s faction is much smaller—and there is now a fight for control. This does not look like it will be a long war since most everybody on both sides seems to be here. The only person whose whereabouts are unknown is the mysterious Major Carson.

  I was rushed back inside the train at first until I insisted that I was very capable of handling my own in a fight. Betty just happened to be at my side when I said this and vouched for my abilities. It would seem I am not the only famous person present.

  At some point, I was grouped up with a dozen soldiers and sent down to the military barracks. When I arrived, I saw a lot of familiar faces. I only wish I had time to enjoy the reunion. The best thing was that there was no question which side these people were on. I guess when it is all over, I will have to deal with however many of them I sent to their deaths.

  I explained the situation and told them that we were fighting for everything we believed in. I don’t recall every word that I said, and I wish I could. Not that it was anything like the speech that President Jenifer Emory gave several months ago, but it was enough to get people to rally behind us and join in the fight.

  Of course there were more people that I didn’t recognize than those I did, and they joined in as well. I have no idea if my words inspired them or they just wanted a chance to get back home. Honestly, I didn’t care as long as we were able to win this fight.

  As I sit here now and look at what has become of Irony, I cannot help but feel a sense of guilt. It’s not that I think this is all about me or anything like that, but what if I would have just gone along? Would Mama Lindsay still be alive? How about Phaedra?

  My eyes scan the plateau and I try to imagine this place as Sam and Meredith arrived. I try to picture where the house would be that they stayed. I wonder if it is burning, or if maybe it has been replaced by something bigger. This place has certainly changed since the day that Meredith and those women took off for Portland…

  And that brings me to another thought…if not for that night, would she have heard the transmission from Vegas? Would she have gone on that particular adventure?

  I have heard it said (by some people who I usually consider very smart) that everything is intertwined. They say things like how a butterfly can flap its wings and cause a rainstorm a thousand miles away.

  I can barely see the page anymore. The glow from the fires below are not all that conducive to being able to see. I have more rattling around in my head…but I doubt it would be all that interesting.

  Sunday, March 28th

  Betty and I are now in charge of like fifty kids between the ages of twelve and eighteen. For some stupid reason, William and his inner-circle think that they (and by extension me) are too young for the fight for Irony. Interesting that he was on the detail responsible for many of these kids’ capture. They were all being trained as soldiers, yet now they no longer qualify?

  How does that make any sense?

  We moved to the eastern ridge that encompasses Irony and set up a line. It didn’t take long for us to see our first action. A group of soldiers were sneaking through the grass just below us. Since I had no way of being able to tell which side they were on, we had to wait until they acted.

  When they fired a volley of flaming arrows at one of the buildings, I had my answer. I sent word down the line that we were going to take these people out. A moment later, I would be sharing my nightmares of the first living person I ever killed with all those who had been assigned to me, but I saw something else in those faces as well. Pride. It would never be said that they did not do their part (however small) in the war.

  I went down and checked all the bodies to ensure that they were all dead and discovered a single survivor. He had three arrows in him; the worst one was in a spot where I was pretty sure it had pierced a lung. Blood bubbled on his mouth and his breath came in a weak, wheezing rattle.

  He asked for water. I gave him a drink and he closed his eyes with a pained look on his face…the
n he shuddered and died. I looked up just in time to a see another group of soldiers moving in from the south. They were following the stream and making a point to try and stay hidden from view. I had to figure them to be hostile considering where they came from. And since they were just arriving on the scene, I had to figure them to be Major Carson and his men.

  I called for a group of volunteers to join me. I explained that I was going to move down the hill. If I could get to these people and maybe take Carson down…or (and I find this to be the least likely of possible outcomes) capture him, perhaps we can put an end to the fighting.

  I was a little surprised when I explained my plan and then called for volunteers as every single one of them stepped forward. I decided to split our group in half. Mary took one group and I took the other with Betty. (I have not seen Selina since shortly after we arrived and feel terrible that she was apparently lost in the shuffle and chaos that came with our arrival.)

  We did not make an elaborate plan, it was simply a matter of getting on either side of these incoming people and raining arrows down into their midst. I gave Mary a hug and we went our separate ways. I could sense as well as see the varying degrees of fear and excitement on the faces of those with me. We were actually in a war!

  I think I warred for a while with that idea over the past few days, but there really is no other way to look at what is taking place here in Irony right now. And the interesting thing to me is the amount of damage that the city has taken in these first few days. Why would you destroy something that you want to keep? After all, I have to assume that both sides want this place. After seeing it, I have to tell you that if you have never been here, you must make an attempt. Maybe I will suggest that when this is all over and the last of Dominique’s people are gone. They should run the train from here down the gorge so that people can see what we are capable of when we work together.

  Anyways, we moved into position and I was able to maintain visual contact with Mary as we closed the distance. Once I had us in a spot that looked the best, I signaled for a halt. The trail these people were following would bring them here in about five or ten minutes. The sides were sheer enough that they would not be able to come up and attack us. Also, if they continued forward we had plenty of time to wipe them out, and if they retreated, we could do enough damage to make them almost a non-factor.

  I waved at Mary one final time and then turned to my group to address them. “What we are about to do is going to be difficult for some of you. Unlike that last attack, this one will be more personal and the enemy will be in the open. That may not seem like that big of a deal, but unlike last time when the bodies fell and disappeared into the tall grass, these will be out in the open for you to see. I will not think badly of any who opt out now.”

  I received nothing back except for some very determined stares and grim expressions. These kids—and that really is what we are since none of us is even out of our teens—knew what was at stake. Maybe they did not grasp the entirety of the situation, but they still had a pretty good idea.

  As the group of soldiers came into view, I could tell that they were scanning the area for any signs of trouble, but they obviously did not expect any real resistance. This little trail does not actually get you into Irony and I believe that is why they were using it. From here, they could reach a group of watch towers that provided the best view into the town. If Major Carson—since I had to assume that was who this group was being led by—could take those towers, he would be able to better direct his forces.

  I cannot say that I am any sort of expert on strategy, but I had to wonder why William had sent us this way to hold this particular hill. Granted, there was only the one approach, but he had to know somebody would think to use it. While almost everybody was involved in the house-to-house fighting taking place in Irony, this location had to be seen as at least somewhat vital eventually.

  A part of me was busy wondering why Major Carson would come up here instead of joining his forces in the town. After all, once he secured this location, what could he do? Provided that he did see something from up on that ridge, he would still need to communicate that information to the people fighting. That was not something done easily. To send a runner would be pointless.

  And then I saw the reason.

  It took a few minutes to realize what I was seeing, but the men with Major Carson were carrying different parts of some sort of device that looked similar to a catapult. In addition, they were also carrying these small barrels. I would guess each one to hold about five gallons.

  Now more than ever, it was vital that I take this person down before he reached his objective. I had no way of knowing what exactly was in each of those casks, but I knew it had to be bad.

  When I gave the signal, everybody on my side drew back on their bow or aimed if they had a crossbow. I looked across the way to see Mary give the same signal. When my arm dropped, there was a series of twangs and thrums…and then just the very briefest moment of silence until the arrows reached their targets.

  Screams came from below and I gave the order for everybody to fire at will. I lined up my next shot and hit a man who already had three arrows sticking out from his body but continued to stagger in a vain attempt to get away.

  I don’t know what happened in those next several seconds, but I saw the soldiers below falling to the ground. I was scanning for my next shot and hoping that I could figure out which one was Major Carson, or that he might already be among the dead and dying, when a ball of fire erupted in the midst of the soldiers.

  The whole scene changed as black, acrid smoke roiled amidst the flames. It took me a moment to realize that the ‘dancing’ flames were actually men who had caught fire and were running and rolling and swatting at themselves. Whatever was in those barrels, it could not be put out by any ordinary means. I saw some of the more level-headed soldiers drop and roll. It did no good at all. Eventually they would stop rolling, but the greenish-blue flames continued to burn.

  I heard the sounds of retching and was not surprised to see a few of my people doubled over. The greatest problem we faced now was that all this dark smoke made it all but impossible to see. Additionally, at least five more casks went off, adding to the hellish scene and completely obscuring our ability to target anybody.

  I yelled for a cease fire since we could no longer be sure of our targets. I split my group in half and had one group head back in the direction the soldiers had come from with the instructions to take down anybody they see that was trying to make a run for it. I took my group and ran to the end of the gulley where any of the soldiers who tried to continue forward would emerge.

  By the time I was clear of the smoke and could see again, I was able to make out the faces of the enemy. I felt my heart squeeze just a bit as I saw kids no older than me in the uniform of the enemy. Their expressions were a mix of pain, fear, surprise…and anger.

  I was not able to at that moment, but now that it has been several hours, I can reflect on that thought for a few seconds. If somebody on their side happened to be keeping a journal like I am (and it is way more common than I realized), then in their version…we are the bad guys. We assassinated their president, we rolled into town and started executing their religious leaders. (Although I am a bit squeamish about giving The Genesis Brotherhood the same status of being a religion as the more—for a lack of a better word—normal religions.) It really is just a matter of perspective when you come down to it.

  So, as I am getting my first up close look at the enemy—just as I fire the first bolt into the chest of one—I hear screams coming from back in the smoke. I also hear what I was immediately able to identify as the rasping moans of walkers. I guess it was just a matter of time before all the commotion brought them down on us.

  I told my people to take down the stragglers and motioned for three of my group to follow me. A little further down the gulley, the ridges started to descend. It is there that I was able to cross over and work my way back to Mary and her group.
As I crossed the mouth of the scene of our ambush, I could look back for almost a hundred yards before the smoke obscured my vision completely, but coming out of that swirling black cloud were several, perhaps a hundred, undead.

  Some of them had flames licking over their skin, but they paid it no mind as they were focused on the dead and dying soldiers that we had shot full of arrows and bolts. The screams were beginning to grow in intensity and number as the zombies started to fall on the first bodies. Since they were still a good distance away, they were nothing more than an afterthought for the time being. If anything, they were doing our dirty work and putting down the remainder of the enemy.

  I started back towards where I imagined Mary and her group to be. I am a little bothered that she did not split her forces like I did to deal with the stragglers. If anything, I would have expected her to at least head this way and ensure that any of Major Carson’s men who might try to continue towards their objective be stopped.

  As I reached the point where the smoke began to become a problem, I had to put my arm across my face so I could breathe, and that was not very effective. I was only able to go a short ways before I being forced to retreat. The screams, however, were growing in number and intensity. I could go wide, and hope to find Mary or somebody from her group, but that would really just be a waste of precious time.

  I fell back just as the first few soldiers emerged from the smoke. These were the ones who were not quiet dead and had zombies move in to take a few bites. A couple showed very little actual damage from the zombies. In fact, the first one that I saw looked like he had a bite on his hand, but I couldn’t even be sure. It was hard to look away from the half-dozen arrows jutting out from his torso.

  When a cluster of them emerged, I got an idea. One of them had a cask strapped to his back. I moved around just enough to get a good shot and fired my crossbow. It hit and caused the exact effect I was hoping for…another explosion. I figured that would take care of the zombie problem and maybe even take out a few remaining soldiers if I got lucky.