by Dana Fredsti
“I’ll take care of Lil,” I promised, giving her an awkward one-armed hug.
“No, I’ll take care of you this time,” Lil said fiercely, a kitten discovering it had more than a wee squeak for a meow.
“I’ll take care of both of you.” Kai used his best Lando voice as he slipped an arm around each of us.
“Not to break up the lovefest, but the zombies will take care of all of us if we don’t get our asses out there,” said Gentry. He tapped an imaginary wristwatch. “Time, ladies and gentlemen.”
We split into two teams again: me, Gabriel, Nathan, and Lil on one, Tony, Kai, and Gentry on the other. Team A would take the right and Team B the left after we blew up a few zombies on the way out. “Don’t press your transmitters if the zoms are grappling with you,” Gabriel reminded us. “Try to stay at least ten yards away from each other and keep an eye out for your fellow teammates when you set off the darts. If you see someone grappling with a zom within your ten-yard signal perimeter, don’t use it.”
Jeez frickin’ Louise, this was going to be fun in the fog.
“Move out!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
On Gabriel’s yell, we took off on either side of the line of fire, running an obstacle corpse as soon as we hit the hundred-yard mark.
The crack of rifle fire continued to sound as we ran through the fog, dodging outstretched arms and grasping hands, totally unnerving. Every second I expected the impact of a bullet smacking into my back. Honestly, the expectation freaked me out more than the zombies.
As soon as we were safely beyond the range of the rifle fire, we spread out. I took a quick glance to see where the rest of my teammates were; all three were out of my sight line, lost in a sea of fog and zombies. I heard a gleeful holler—definitely Tony—followed by a rapid succession of little explosions. It sounded like popcorn kernels going off in a kettle.
Half a dozen zombies zeroed in on me, changing their relentless trajectory towards Big Red to follow me. I noticed a couple of the little white darts sticking out of the zombie near me and decided to test out the transmitter. It was a little closer than ten yards so I grabbed another zombie, a skinny little thing in skimpy nightshift, tossed it into the zombie pincushion, and flicked the switch. Pop pop pop! The darts exploded, popcorn on steroids, and about half a dozen zombies fragmented around me, taking a few innocent bystander zombies with them. The splatter effect was nasty; I probably looked like a modern art piece by one of those throw-the-paint-at-the-canvas types. It left a nice little zombie-free zone around me, which quickly began to fill like a hole dug in sand at the water’s edge.
I whipped the re-jiggered paintball gun from its makeshift holster, firing a few rounds of darts into random zombies around me while dodging gaping mouths and grasping fingers coming at me out of the fog. Their mottled gray skin seemed to ooze moisture, whether from the fog or the decomposition process I couldn’t tell. Either way they looked nasty and slimy.
Another explosion went off somewhere to the front and right of me. Someone yelled, definitely male, either in pain or surprise. Not sure which, but my heart immediately froze in my chest. What if one of the guys had blundered into the path of a claymore and was now stuck with darts? They’d set the claymores up against the tree line to prevent this, but who was to say Gabriel didn’t lose his way in the heavy fog amidst all the zombies? Shit.
I pulled my katana out of its sheathe and took off in the direction of the yell, plowing through zombies and knocking them aside like a linebacker taking out the opposing team’s defensive line. I didn’t stop to kill if I could evade or knock them down, but a few really asked for it, like one scrawny male zombie with an underbite and no chin who looked it hadn’t had much of a relationship with hygiene even when while alive. Cletus, the slack-jawed zombie. It lurched into my path and clutched at my head, pulling me towards his open slack-jawed mouth, yellowed teeth champing in anticipation of food.
Thank you, nose plugs.
I shoved my left hand against its chin, raised my katana, and sliced through his skull with one hard cut. A great kill shot, but the blade stuck in bone when I tried to pull it out. Cletus Zombie’s knees buckled as it sank to the ground. I grabbed the hilt of the katana with both hands and yanked hard. It came out with a lovely sucking sound.
Ah, the joys of zombie slaying.
More zombies converged on me. I cleared some space with some wide, arcing horizontal slices. Didn’t kill them, but hard to attack when your torso is sliding off your hips and hanging by a few sinews.
“Gabriel!” I yelled.
“Over here!”
Recognizing Gabriel’s voice, I ran towards it, hoping my sense of direction wasn’t totally fubared by the fog.
Thwack! Off went the head of what used to be a pretty young coed.
“Ashley!” Gabriel’s voice again, right in front of me.
Another ten feet or so and I saw him, spraying a bunch of zombies with more darts. He looked like he had all his limbs and I didn’t see any darts sticking out. “You okay?” I asked when I reached him.
“I’m fine.” He grabbed me by one shoulder. “But why are you here? We’re supposed to keep safe distance so we don’t blow each other up.”
“I heard you yell when one of the claymores went off. Couldn’t risk using my transmitter if one of the team suddenly had a bunch of déjà vu darts sticking out of his or her ass.”
Gabriel snorted. “One of the mines went off in front of me, but I was on the non-business side of things.”
“Heh. Made ya flinch, though.”
“Heads up!”
Zombies closed in on all sides.
“Fire in the hole!” yelled Gabriel. We ducked down on the ground, pressed our transmitters and set off a veritable Jiffy Pop series of explosions all around us. A gloppy rain of exploded zombie bits spattered us. If I had one wish it would be for a hot shower before I died.
We got to our feet, goo dripping off our helmets. We’d cleared a substantial area, but already more zombies were filling in the gaps.
More darts, more explosions. My sword sliced through countless necks and stomachs, smoke and fog intertwined as Gabriel and I slowly fought our way out of the thick of the swarm to protect the right flank of our defense, all the while slipping and stumbling through the piles of body parts, intestines, and other viscera. Nathan and Lil had obviously covered this territory.
The swarm thinned out substantially as we cut across the parking lot and angled back up towards the barricades, but there were still enough zombies headed towards the right flank to potentially put us up Shit Creek if they broke through to the firing lines. Tony, Kai and Gentry probably faced the same situation at the left flank. Hopefully Mister Flamethrower would hold the zoms off.
“Fire in the hole!”
Nathan’s voice rang out clearly through the chaos. Gabriel and I dropped again as more déjà vu darts went off. No fallout splatter this time, not that it would make a difference to the overall grossness level of my clothes.
We joined Nathan and Lil at the far side of the parking lot. They were both equally disgusting. “Isn’t this gross?” Lil practically bounced up and down with excitement, eyes shining with unholy glee.
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re enjoying this?”
Lil shrugged. “I might as well ‘cause if I die in the next ten minutes I’d rather be having fun, y’know?”
I couldn’t argue with her logic so I didn’t try. “What are you going to do for excitement when this is all over?”
“String beads,” Lil said firmly. “Whoops!” Staring over my shoulder, she raised her M4 and fired off a few rounds at some zombies that had gotten too close. One bullet found its mark; the others hit chest level or missed. “I suck at this,” Lil frowned.
“You just need more practice,” said Nathan, sighting and firing. Four zombies bit the dust. A claymore went off in the near distance,
“I’ve got this!” Lil dashed off into the fog, and we heard the darts
explode a few seconds later. Lil reappeared as quickly as she’d vanished, looking worried. “That took out a few, but there are more coming. They just keep coming…”
“How many darts does everyone have left?” asked Nathan.
I checked my knapsack. “Maybe ten?”
“I’m out.” Lil pulled out her pickaxe.
Gabriel pulled out a handful. “This is it.”
Nathan shook his head, frowning. “Use ‘em wisely. And let’s hope Gentry is doing damage with his flamethrower.” As if on cue we heard a war whoop from somewhere to our left followed by the roar. Even through the fog a big diffuse bloom of hazy light was visible as Gentry commenced zombie barbecue on the left flank.
Invigorated, the four of us grinned at each other and went back to work. We spread out in a fan, Gabriel and Nathan using their firearms to deadly effect while Lil and I cut and smashed down approaching zoms with blade and pickaxe. Body parts flew, the asphalt of the parking lot becoming a treacherous surface of flesh, innards, and that nasty-ass black goo that passes for blood in the walking dead. I didn’t envy whoever’s job it would be to mop things up when and if we won. I sincerely hoped it didn’t fall into the category of Things Only Wild Cards Can Do.
Lil fell back beside me, panting heavily from exertion.
“They’re not stopping, Ashley.”
“Sooner or later they have to,” I said firmly.
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” she said, voice uncertain.
“Switch to your gun.”
“I suck with my gun.” She sounded near tears.
“Take your time and aim. I’ll cover you so you can give your arm a break, okay?” I didn’t tell her my cutting arm felt like lead, each stroke of the sword harder than the last. To stop was to die or worse, to let Lil die. I’d take a bucketload of ibuprofen later.
Lil switched out to her M4 without further argument. I continued slaughtering the incoming zombies, no longer seeing gender or age. They were all just rotting flesh that shouldn’t be walking around.
I don’t know how long this went on. I sliced, diced, and decapitated on autopilot, a human Cuisinart running on emergency battery power. Nathan and Gabriel made every shot count. Zombie corpses piled up in front of us. But more kept coming.
Finally Nathan fell back next to me. “I’m out of ammo,” he said.
Gabriel joined us. “I’m close.”
Zombies continued to stagger towards us, undeterred by the bodies in front of them. They’d fall, stagger to their feet or get shoved into the body part stew by more zombies behind them.
“Fall back! Fall back!
The shout from the lines chilled my heart. This meant the zombies had broken through the safety zone and were advancing on the lines.
“Back to the front!” snapped Gabriel.
The four of us ran back along the barricade until we reached the sides of the lines; Gentry, Tony, and Kai ran in from the left, all as disgustingly goo-splattered as Team A.
Colonel Paxton and Simone were already urging people back over the barricades to the temporary safety of Big Red and DBP Hall. Paxton stood on top of Mount Gillette while Simone ushered people up the ramp. Some of the soldiers, maybe fifty, still fired in two lines, but you could see the tension and exhaustion in their faces. Jamie and a few other civilians continued to hand out clips. There was still a good supply, but the main problem was there were just too many zombies and not enough people. It really was like trying to dig a hole in the sand as water and more sand continually poured in.
Nathan ran up to Simone and grabbed her arm. “Get back inside the barricades. Now.”
She pulled her arm away with a total ‘you’re not the boss of me’ glare. “As soon as everyone else is safely on the other side, I’ll go.”
Nathan shrugged. “If that’s how you want it.”
“It is!”
Without another word Nathan scooped her up in his arms, strode up the ramp to Mount Gillette and vanished down the other side, ignoring Simone’s outraged protests the entire time. He reappeared a few seconds later, stopping by Colonel Paxton to say, “Make sure she stays on that side,” before leaping back down to rejoin us. Paxton gave him a little salute. I swear he looked grateful.
“This is it, kids,” he said. He pointed out over the fields and parking lot where zombies continued to pour in. “Most of the lines are going up on the barricade where they’ll continue to take out the advancing enemy. We have enough darts left to make a dent in the rest of the swarm, but not necessarily enough to stop them. We’re all tired, which means mistakes are easier to make. The odds are shitty.”
We looked at each other, then back at Nathan.
“We will not go quietly into the night,” said Tony. “We will not vanish without a fight!”
“We’re going to live on,” Kai chimed in.
“We’re going to survive,” added Gentry.
The three of them linked arms and yelled, “Today, we celebrate our Independence Day!”
I shrugged. “What they said.”
Nathan grinned. “Good. Although this is gonna be a little more complicated than using a Mac to infect an alien spaceship. Drink some water, load up on darts and ammo, and let’s go.”
The soldiers continued to fire, fall back, reload, and fire again while we quickly grabbed as much ammo, clips, and darts as we could stuff into our pouches, pockets, and rucksacks. The moans of the living dead were continual, almost white noise by this point, like a track on one of those Sounds of Nature records.
“Everyone fall back to the barricade!” Paxton’s rich voice rang out over the moans and the remaining soldiers seized the rest of the gear and hustled up the ramp with it.
Paxton stared down at us, face solemn. “We’ll hold the ramp as long as possible.”
“Could you leave a nightlight on?” Tony, of course.
Nathan smacked him on the back of the head. “Burn the ramp if you need to. We can always get in the back if we make it that far.”
Suddenly Simone appeared next to Paxton. “Nathan, I swear I will haunt you if you don’t bring every one of them back alive!”
Nathan grinned. “What makes you think I won’t haunt you even if I do?”
Never one to waste a good exit line, Nathan waved his arm at us. “Let’s do this!”
Déjà vu, just like the darts, we dashed back into the fields, spreading out in an arc of controlled mayhem. We sent out more darts into the oncoming zoms, exploded them, cut down stragglers before they could close in on us, then repeated the process over and over again, with Gentry using the flamethrower with deadly effect. Heads melted, clothes caught on fire, and flaming zombies stumbled like really clumsy stuntmen into other approaching corpses and passed the torch. We couldn’t keep them from reaching the barricade; there were just too many of them. At this stage of the game, all we could do is take out as many as possible, stem the tide enough so the incoming wave wouldn’t eventually sweep over the barricade and into Big Red.
I was out of darts and switched to my M4, not sure if I could use my katana and tanto with any force. I’d lost sight of the other Wild Cards, but could hear the occasional roar of the flamethrower. The body count was over the top, and still they kept coming. Rotted faces, gaping wounds, staring white pupils and yellowed, bloodshot whites—how could there still be more when I was so tired?
I did my best to keep enough space between me and the approaching zoms to have enough time to aim, but it didn’t take long before I had to resort to my katana or be overwhelmed. Promising my arms and shoulders massage and icepacks if they stuck with me, I drew from a reserve of strength I didn’t know I had, drew my weapons, and had at it.
Three zombies came at me at once, one of them getting through my guard to grasp at my left arm even as I hacked the heads off first one, then the other of its friends. I tried to shake it off, but the thing’s grip was like steel and I couldn’t dislodge it. “Motherfucker, let go of me!” It was too close for me to us
e my katana; I would just as likely whack my own arm off as the zombie’s. I made a split second decision as it moved in, teeth angled towards my neck. Stabbing my katana blade first into one of the fallen zombies, I grabbed the tanto from my left hand and shoved the point into the zombie’s eye before it could sink its teeth into me. Its grip on my arm loosened as it fell to its knees and collapsed onto the ground. Bracing one foot next to its head, I pulled out the tanto and retrieved my katana with one quick movement.
I heard a holler to my left. I turned in time to see Lil, a few hundred feet away, stumble and go down, her pickaxe flying to one side. A half dozen zoms immediately converged on her before she could get to her feet.
“Lil!” My frantic cry probably carried across campus as I raced across the zombie-strewn ground to reach Lil before the zombies tore her to pieces. I could hear her yelling in anger, but then those yells turned into high-pitched shrieks of pain as the bastards tore into her.
Oh God, please no…
I leapt over several fallen corpses, covering the remaining distance between me and Lil, and brought my sword down on the zoms attacking her. A head went flying, then an arm. My ears rang and blood filled my vision as a total berserker rage swept through me, the fury of a mother lion defending her cub. Body parts fell as I hacked and slashed those six zombies, shrieking like a banshee the entire time, until all of them lay in pieces on or around Lil’s prone body. One of the zombies lay unmoving on top of her, a big, meaty thing that had to weigh twice as much as Lil, a slice through the back of its skull having dispatched it.
Dropping to my knees and totally uncaring of anything else around me, I pulled the dead weight off of Lil, muttering an undefined prayer to the universe that she not be dead.
Shoving the zombie off to one side, I stared at Lil, heart sinking as I took in her still face, torn clothes, and the bite marks in her arms and legs. They’d managed to get their teeth in between the armor. She was still breathing, and her limbs were still intact, nothing torn off, but she looked bad. Nathan appeared next to me and immediately knelt by Lil’s side. “We need to get her back to Big Red.”
