Humanity's Hope (Book 1): Camp H

by Greg P. Ferrell

  Eventually, the rounds exploded through the press box he had taken shelter in again and splintered the wall separating his box from the one next door. Three more rounds punched through his box before the guns trajectory moved on to the next one. As soon as the gun was firing in another direction, Hutch uncovered his face to see that another round had gone through the door and widened the hole enough to allow an intruder to slip through. To his surprise, though, the slabs that had been attacking the door were no longer trying to squeeze in.

  He sat up to survey the situation and found that the invading slabs had taken direct hits from the incoming rounds and were scattered throughout the hallway. Several of them were no longer in one piece, and all over the hallway were arms, legs, heads, and other unidentifiable decaying body parts. More then half of the slabs that had tried to get to him had been pulverized, and the ones still able to attack had been momentarily thrown off their feet in the aftermath of the huge gun’s attack. He realized it was only a matter of seconds before they regrouped and resumed their pursuit of him, so Hutch jumped up and kicked open the door and ran into the hallway.

  Swinging his rifle into action, he quickly made his way through the gauntlet of gnashing teeth and grasping arms while he put down as many slabs as he could with a bullet to the head on his way through.

  With the first obstacle behind him, he turned and headed to the spiraling walkway that encircled the entire stadium that led to the ground floor and to where his battle-van waited. He kicked open the door that normally kept the general public separated from the VIPs, and came face-to-face with a whole crowd of slabs patrolling the walkway directly where he was headed. He quickly yanked the door closed again and reached into his jacket to produce a fragmentation grenade. He pulled the pin on the grenade and slightly opened the door just enough to toss it through the opening. He again slammed the door shut and jumped around the corner and covered his ears. Seconds later, there was a loud explosion, and the door he’d just shut flew past him, followed by several body parts and bloody debris. Once the smoke cleared, he bolted back to the doorway, quickly clearing the area of any remaining slabs still able to pursue before he continued to the edge of the railing overlooking the outside of the stadium.

  Hutch quickly secured the rope hanging from his belt to the railing and threw the bundled-up rope over the edge, watching it drop to make sure it reached the ground. He attached his rappelling descender to the rope and leapt over the edge just as a couple of slabs he had missed reached his position. As he rapidly descended, he looked up just in time to see one of the slabs he’d avoided a mere moment earlier was not content to let its dinner get away. It tumbled over the edge in hot pursuit. Without the security of being attached to a rope, the slab plowed into Hutch and caused him to lose his grip and go into a two-story free fall. Hutch cursed as he hurtled downward and crashed to the ground. Somehow he got lucky as he managed to land partially on top of the fallen slab. The slab created enough cushion that he hadn’t broken any bones, but the landing had knocked the wind out of him, and for the moment he was having trouble getting any part of his body to respond to his commands. As he started to feel himself black out, Hutch noticed the sound of his guns had stopped, and everything had gone eerily quiet. Hutch’s eyes rolled back into his head, and the last sight he saw were two approaching slabs coming to investigate what had just fallen in front of them.

  A loud crack of thunder reawakened Hutch before he’d completely slipped away. He groggily looked up to see only one approaching slab as another loud crack shattered the silence around him, and then it, too, fell to the ground. Still rattled from his narrow escape and fall and unsure of what was happening, he took advantage of the opportunity and pushed himself up off the ground.

  He looked around and tried to triangulate where the gunshots had come from, but couldn’t find their origin. Nonetheless, he decided the best way to show his appreciation of the save was to use the ensuing calm to make his escape. He headed straight for his van about 20 yards from where he’d landed, the vehicle hidden by some of the infield tarps they always had on hand for a rain delay. Hutch threw himself into a baseball player’s slide underneath the tarp and jumped into the driver’s side of the van as quickly as his aching body would allow. With quick, jerky movements and adrenaline flooding his veins, he flicked the key into the ignition, and the van roared to life as he punched it out from underneath the tarp and into the stadium’s parking lot.

  As he neared the end of the lot, he looked up at the high-rises across the street and caught a flash of light in one of the buildings. It was obvious someone was using a mirror to signal down to him, as the sunlight reflected back at him came in a very specific pattern. His savior was summoning him over to his location. Normally Hutch would have sent off a wave or a thumbs-up to his rescuer and continued on his own way, but he knew this particular signal wasn’t common knowledge. Only a select group of individuals knew the specific signal sent his way, and Hutch figured his savior had earned his thanks for the save a few moments ago. If he had to guess, the man who’d sent the signal had to have been in one of the Special Forces units. The pattern he’d flashed was only used by other Special Forces operatives to identify one another in the field.

  Hutch cleared the parking lot and pulled up in front of the building he’d spotted his guardian angel’s signal originate from. As he sat in front of the building, he saw a rope drop down from the roof followed by a large rucksack, and a few seconds later, the boots of an Army Ranger dropped to the pavement. This is the guy that saved me? He’s barely an adult.

  Hutch watched carefully as the young man untethered himself from the rope and began to collect his gear. He was a clean-cut, dark-skinned guy that Hutch guessed couldn’t have been in more than his early 20s, at most. He was a huge man, and stood at least six-three, and even through the clothing it was apparent the man was very muscular and strong. He was dressed in urban fatigues and it seemed he wore all the appropriate Army Ranger gear. The young man finished collecting his stuff and sprinted to the passenger door of the van with a .308 rifle slung over his shoulder, and Hutch guessed that had been the weapon used to save his life only moments before. As much as Hutch appreciated the save, he had no qualms about greeting his savior with his own weapon drawn. It wasn’t unheard of in their new destroyed world for someone to save another only to rob them for all they had after the fact.

  Hutch drew his pistol and aimed it at the young man, but kept his voice calm and unthreatening as he spoke, “Let’s do this safely. Throw your guns onto the floorboard and climb in slowly. Put your seatbelt on, please. Oh, and if I see you reach for that boot knife you Ranger guys are so famous for, I will not hesitate to shoot you.”

  The young Ranger complied, and quickly climbed into the vehicle. Hutch put the van into gear and started to drive away when his new passenger spoke up. “Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” He threw a thumb over his shoulder, back toward the stadium crawling with the undead.

  Hutch smiled jovially at him and very confidently replied, “Nope.” He then reached up to the sun visor of the van and depressed a red button on the remote detonator he’d Velcroed there. The red light blinked once, and suddenly the entire stadium exploded and shot a huge mushroom cloud of smoke and debris high into the sky. The van rattled slightly from the shock wave, but they’d managed to put enough distance between themselves and the stadium that the windows all held. Hutch smiled at his new traveling companion. “Just wanted to be at a safe distance first.”

  The new passenger watched in amazement as the stadium was reduced to a pile of rubble in mere seconds. “Holy crap! How much C4 did you use in there?” It was clear he knew a thing or two, but was green enough to be a little bit in awe of what he’d just witnessed.

  “Enough,” Hutch answered slyly. He continued on down the road all the while inwardly smiling at his latest conquest. He knew deep down he’d never have made it out without the save from his young passenger, but he didn’t let that show on
his face. He still held his pistol aimed at the young man, but he’d laid it across his lap in a slightly less intimidating manner. “I have some questions for you. But first, I have a stop to make up the road, then we can get acquainted.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Kyle and The Guys

  As Kyle looked out the rear window to make sure Tim and Billy were still following behind them in the Rambler, he caught sight of the sign as they passed letting them know they had left Florida and were now welcomed to Georgia. They had decided to bring two vehicles just in case one broke down on them, although Kyle knew it wasn’t only to have a secondary vehicle. Tim had desperately wanted to drive the Rambler and had done a piss-poor job of hiding his excitement, so Kyle had relented and allowed the two knuckleheads to bring up the rear with it. The Rambler was a modified PT Cruiser with armored plates welded around the body as well as a plow blade fastened to the front bumper that allowed them to push vehicles and other obstacles out of the way. It was one of the first vehicles David had modified for the camp’s supply runs, and it had been a quite reliable tool for them so far. Since the addition of the Devastator, however, Tim, with David’s tutelage, had spent a little time in the garage upgrading it with a few more offensive touches. Most noticeably was the addition of a mini Gatling gun mounted to the roof. They’d also added a hatch access and framed in a Plexiglas bubble one could stand inside and still fire the weapon unencumbered. The mini gun had been scavenged from a downed Blackhawk they’d ran across recently with about 3000 rounds of ammo to accompany it.

  “Hang on back there. It’s fixin’ to get a little bumpy,” David yelled back to the other passengers.

  David had spent last night installing a better plow blade to the front of the Devastator in anticipation of the many abandoned cars and other obstacles they expected to encounter along their journey. He still drove on the shoulder as much as possible and tried to only use the plow blade as a last resort. As they’d expected, the roads were strewn with abandoned cars as people had tried to flee from the cities at the beginning of the outbreak. Unfortunately, what most had quickly discovered, was that almost every person in every town had the same panicked thoughts. The resulting chaos caused massive blockages over many of the roadways, that had sadly become the downfall of hundreds of people. As the roads became parking lots, they just as quickly became buffet lines miles long for the growing number of slabs. Car after car showed signs of damage as the horde quickly became too much for the stranded passengers. After the roads and outlying areas had been overrun, the slabs, which apparently had a great sense of smell, had turned back and gone into the cities to search out those who hadn’t left. The outbreak had begun so fast and the slabs multiplied and spread out to every corner of the world so quickly, Kyle and his friends hadn’t been surprised when the military hadn’t been able to counter the infection.

  “How we looking up there, big guy?” Kyle called to David.

  “So far so good. I think it might be clear after the next bridge, if we can get across. I’m taking back roads after that ’til we get to the spot Benjy was talking about.”

  Thirty minutes later, David pulled off the main road and headed down an old dirt road. “This should be the farm Benjy was talking about. He said the back of the property will have an elevated view that should let us see for miles.”

  As the caravan reached the area of the farm Benjy had described, they parked the Devastator and Rambler facing the road entrance, in case they needed to hastily evacuate the area. Once satisfied with the initial overview of the area, everyone suited up in their customized armor and exited the vehicles. After they had visually searched the area around them for slabs and confirmed they were alone for the time being, they approached a rocky cliff that overlooked the Georgia Valley below them.

  “Wow! What a view,” Kyle exclaimed as he headed to the edge and looked over. “You forget how flat Florida is ’til you see something like this.”

  “Okay, according to Benjy, we should be able to see the horde approaching by now and it should at least give us an idea of what we’re going to be facing,” David explained.

  The team fanned out to different spots along the rocky cliff and tried to spot the horde. Kyle headed to the farthest edge of the cliff on the left, while Tim and Billy headed toward the right side. David took up position in the turret atop the Devastator, while Ron and Big Poppa Don went behind the vehicles to scout out the farm. Several quiet moments went by until Tim and Billy called out to the team.

  “We have movement over here,” Tim called out.

  Kyle used his binoculars to scan the area the two inseparable goofs had indicated, and then he, too, saw what they were indicating and he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. To say that the sight before him made his knees go weak was an understatement. Kyle had been sure when they set out on this recon mission that they’d be able to fend off this year’s migrating slabs just as they had the prior winter; now, as he looked onto the valley below, he was no longer confident they could divert the slabs without a miracle up their collective sleeves.

  Emerging from the edge of the woods and into the valley below, he could see at first only a couple of slabs, then trailing behind the leading slabs a few more materialized. He became confused at the sight before him, as it appeared the very ground below them was alive with movement as well. Sickened, he suddenly realized that what had first appeared to be stumps and bushes trembling with movement near the tree line, were in actuality hundreds of slow-moving slabs crawling and dragging their tattered bodies across the ground, following in the wake of the still ambulatory horde before them. Over the next few minutes, as they continued to watch in stunned silence, hundreds of slabs morphed into over a thousand. Never before had any of them witnessed so many slabs moving together in one location, almost as one deadly organism. Kyle made his way over to where Tim and Billy still watched speechless at the sight before them.

  “Holy shit!” Billy finally managed. “They just keep coming. Look at that.”

  “Look over there to the east!” Tim pointed out. “They’re starting to show up over there, too.”

  “How fast do you think they’re going?” Kyle asked.

  “Doesn’t look like more than a mile or so an hour,” Billy responded. “It’s pretty slow but steady.”

  “I’m going to tell David to get ready to roll. It won’t take them long to reach this location, and I want to be long gone by the time they do,” Kyle said. He turned on his heel and walked back to the Devastator.

  When he returned to David’s location, he grabbed a whistle and blew it twice to alert Ron and Big Poppa Don that it was time to go. After they got David caught up on what they saw, Kyle started to reload the equipment into the vehicle.

  Suddenly David, who was climbing down from the turret, yelled out, “Shit! Get your gun!”

  Kyle spun around to see what had him so excited. He barely had time to register what had David so concerned before a large group of slabs began to flow up around the short edge of the cliff. The slabs were coming up on Tim and Billy’s blindside where they were still watching the valley below.

  Kyle blew the whistle again to try and get their attention before it was too late. Tim and Billy looked back towards Kyle as he motioned for them to turn around. As they turned to see what he was pointing at, shots rang out behind them from the direction where Ron and Big Poppa Don had gone. Kyle turned in that direction and found Ron holding Don in a fireman’s carry as he continued to fire off shots as best he could into the trees behind him. Then shots rang out from Tim and Billy’s position as they realized they would soon be completely cut-off by the group of slabs coming towards them.

  Kyle ran back to the Devastator and grabbed his rifle. As he came out and drew a bead on the group approaching Billy and Tim, an unexpected explosion of gunfire startled him as David unleashed the .50 caliber on the leading edge of the approaching horde. Kyle watched as David hit his mark and the slabs disintegrated into bloody pulp in front of him. H
e figured David had them covered and decided to head toward Ron’s position and lend him a hand with Big Poppa Don.

  As Kyle ran toward Ron, he could see a small group of slabs emerge from the tree line behind them in hot pursuit. He dropped to one knee in Marine fashion and started to fire off a few rounds into the oncoming enemy. Six shots fired and six more slabs immediately fell. By then Ron had reached Kyle’s position, and Kyle could see why Ron had been carrying Don. A large chuck of Big Poppa Don’s upper thigh had been torn away.

  “Was he bitten?” Kyle asked.

  “Yes, but I couldn’t leave him,” Ron responded.

  “You know the deal, man.”

  “I know, I know.” Ron’s face was a mask of fury and sadness as he looked Kyle in the eyes .

  “Don, you know the deal?” Kyle asked Big Poppa Don as he took him from Ron and leaned him against a tree.

  “Yeah. I’m getting too old for this shit, anyway,” Don answered. “Listen. I’m done for, but I can buy you some time. Give me a grenade and let me take some of them with me.”

  “Damn it, man. Why’d you have to go and get bitten?” asked Kyle not expecting an answer. “Here, come with me.” Kyle put his arm around Don and helped him over to a large rock pile behind the Rambler.

  “Give me your rifle,” Kyle said. “I’ll leave the pistol with you.” He reached into his front pouch and pulled out a grenade and handed it to Big Poppa Don. “Give us time to get a safe distance away. I’m sorry, man. We will not forget you and we’ll remember what you’re doing to help save the rest of us.” Kyle stood and gave his good friend one last handshake.

  “Just go,” Don said. “I’ve got this. Besides, as out of shape as I am, it was only a matter of time. I’m surprised I’ve lasted this long. Now, go!” He waved them off as he tucked the grenade under his arm and checked the ammo in his pistol.