by David Spell
Melissa nodded and kissed him. She had tears in her eyes and hurried down the hallway to the bedroom.
William stood and walked slowly to the front windows. He pulled the curtain back slightly and saw the face of his neighbor from across the street. William didn’t know him. They were an Indian family. The face had blood on it and the mouth was opening and closing. One of his ears was hanging on by just a tiny piece of flesh. The Indian zombie saw William and slammed his face into the window breaking one of the panes of glass.
Startled, Owen stumbled backwards and dropped his pistol. It landed on the hardwood floor with a loud crash. He reached down and picked it up but the noise had let the infected know that someone was in the house. A second pane of glass was broken, and then another. The zombies kept striking at the windows. Another one slammed into the front door.
The broken glass cut their hands and arms but they kept trying to force their way in. William retreated back to the small dining area. Melissa stuck her head out of the bedroom to see what was happening. He rushed down the hallway to tell her what the noise was.
“I’ll be done packing in just a few minutes,” she said.
“They’re trying to get in,” he said. “You have to stay in the bedroom. Push the bed or anything else you can find up against the door. I’ll keep them from getting to you.”
She was crying and William Junior tried to push past his mother to get to his father. He felt the fear coming from his parents. When Melissa picked him up and took him back into the bedroom, the toddler began to kick and scream, “Daddy, I want daddy!”
The slamming, banging, and noise of breaking glass continued from the front of the house. Extending his Ruger 9mm, he walked back down the hallway to keep guard. The sound of footsteps coming up the steps let him know that there were more of them just outside his front door. He had only seen the one when he had looked out the window but it sounded like an even bigger group was on the porch now.
Another pane of glass shattered as a zombie slammed into it. He knew the two windows would not keep them out. William looked around the living room. There was nothing to push in front of the windows.
The fireplace. The metal fire poker. That would be another good weapon and not as loud, he thought. He grabbed it and slid the pistol into his waistband.
The wooden frame cracked on the window on the right. The curtains were still closed but he saw a figure climbing through the window. William swung the metal fire poker at what he thought was the zombie’s head. A growl came from another one on the porch. The one that he hit kept coming so he hit it again. This time it collapsed, hanging halfway into the house.
A second infected started climbing over the one that William had just killed. It was growling loudly and he could hear its teeth snapping together. This one managed to get tangled up in the curtains and pulled them from the wall. Owen felt terror in the pit of his stomach as he saw the group of at least fifteen of them on his porch.
He swung the fire poker at the head of the zombie that had just pulled his curtains down. William recognized him as the guy who lived a few houses up. He was the neighbor who was always working on his cars late at night or early in the morning and revving the engines. It took three strikes to the head to drop him.
There was a loud crack as the frame on the other window broke under the weight of the zombies. Two other figures were trying to climb into the house. William stepped over to that window and started swinging his poker. The two zombies both collapsed inside the house, not moving. More were trying to get in that window and the curtains were ripped from it, as well.
There was a noise behind him. William turned and saw that his Indian zombie neighbor had climbed in through the first window and was reaching for him. He swung the fire poker and connected with his head, smashing his skull and killing him.
Another young zombie woman, whom William recognized as Betty from next door, had climbed in the other window. She was covered with blood and her neck was ripped open. She was close and lunged at him. He raised the poker in front of him and tried to shove her backwards. Betty ripped the fire poker out of his hands.
William remembered the pistol and pulled it out of his waistband. He pointed it at Betty’s face and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The safety was on. She grabbed his left arm and bit down hard on his forearm. He pushed the safety up and shot her in the face. Betty released his arm and collapsed to the floor. Owen glanced at his forearm. Blood. Keep fighting, he told himself.
He swung the pistol around and shot another zombie that was reaching for him. William backed up to the dining area. Another woman zombie was in the house and walking towards him. He fired and missed. He pulled the trigger and missed again. Deep breath, he told himself. The third shot hit her in the face and knocked her onto her back.
They were climbing over the top of each other now as they came through both windows. William wanted to run. He wanted to hide. Melissa and William Junior were in the back bedroom, though. He couldn’t let these things get to his family. He took another deep breath.
Owen ran over and shot three of them in the head at point-blank range before they could get to their feet inside the house. He shot at another one coming in the window and missed. What is the matter with me? he thought. How can I miss a shot that’s less than five feet away? His next shot caught the creature in the side of the head.
Another one climbed through a window and fell to the floor. This one was one of the teenagers that lived two houses up. He had flipped William off a couple of weeks before for interrupting their street basketball game by having the audacity to want to drive to his house. He growled and lunged for William’s leg. He shot him in the head.
Something grabbed his ankle. The Hispanic lady that lived on the other side of him was about to bite his leg. William shot her and jerked his leg away. He was hot and sweating profusely and was starting to feel dizzy. He looked at his forearm again. Betty had put a pretty good bite on him. She had definitely ripped his skin open with her teeth. How long do I have? he wondered.
One of the other neighborhood teens fell to the floor under the window. She was dressed in black and had purple hair. William’s first shot hit her in the chest. She pushed herself to her feet. His second shot missed and his third shot hit her in the top of the head sending her back to the floor.
Hands grabbed at his left arm and leg. He jumped backwards and pointed the pistol at the two zombies. Nothing happened when he pulled the trigger. It was locked open. Empty. Where was that other magazine? William rushed towards the dining room table. He fumbled with the magazine release trying to get the empty mag out. Four zombies closed in on him inside his house. Three more climbed through the windows and started towards their victim.
Owen got the empty magazine out of the pistol and grabbed the loaded one off of the table. He tried to get it into the gun but it wouldn’t go. The growling and snapping of teeth were so loud. They were almost on top of him. He saw his problem. He had the magazine turned the wrong way. I wished I’d practiced more with my pistol, he thought.
As he turned the magazine the correct way and inserted it into the gun, four sets of hands grabbed him and pulled him towards the floor. Three other sets of hands and teeth closed in quickly to help with the kill. William swung the heavy pistol into one of the zombie’s heads, fracturing its skull and knocking it backwards. The others began to bite him and rip at his flesh. Owen screamed out in pain and fear and helplessness. In seconds, he was dead. The creatures enjoyed this new victim. Several others climbed into the house to partake of their fresh kill.
Chuck took point and led the team towards where they had heard the shots. It was easy to spot the house on the next street over. There were several zombies in the yard and others were climbing through the windows on the front porch into the house.
McCain, Fleming, and García shot the five that were standing in the yard. As they approached the front porch, they heard a woman’s voice from inside the house, “William? William, are you ok?
”
The unmistakable sound of zombie growling was also heard from inside the house. Chuck turned to his men. “Luis and Scotty, watch our backs. Andy and I’ll take a look.”
García and Smith set up a watch at the bottom of the steps. McCain and Fleming went up onto the front porch. Chuck did a quick peek through one of the smashed out windows. He motioned for Fleming to do the same.
“I see a dead guy on the ground. A couple of Zs eating on him and I’m hearing growling from the back of the house,” said Andy.
A woman’s scream came as a crashing sound was heard from inside the house.
Chuck nodded. “I’ll kick in the door and let’s get in there before it’s too late.”
It took him two kicks before the doorframe shattered and the front door flew open. Andy was the first in and quickly shot the two zombies that were eating William’s corpse. The growling and hissing were coming from just around the corner. A woman continued to scream. A baby was crying loudly.
Fleming and McCain swung around wide into the dining area to see down the hallway. They saw eight zombies trying to push their way into a bedroom. Both men raised their rifles and started shooting them in the head. Less then ten seconds later, all eight of them were dead.
“Police officers,” Chuck called quietly. “We’re here to get you to safety.”
Chuck motioned for Andy to cover him. He then moved down the hallway to the back bedroom.
“Hello? Police officers, we’re here to help you.”
“Are they gone? Where’s William?”
“Ma’am, we’ve killed all the zombies. I don’t know about William but we’ll get you out of here. Can you open the door? It’s safe now.”
The sound of furniture being slid across the floor came from inside the bedroom. She had pushed their bed, a shelf and a chair against the door. A shot from Andy’s suppressed rifle echoed through the house. Chuck looked back. William had turned into a zombie himself and had tried to grab Fleming’s leg. A shot to the head had stopped him.
Andy figured this was the woman’s husband. From the looks of things, he had made a pretty good last stand before being overwhelmed. He counted fifteen dead Zs that the man had killed. Fleming grabbed a blanket off of the back of the couch and covered him up.
The bedroom door opened and the woman appeared. She was holding a toddler close to her. “Where’s William?” she asked.
“What’s your name?” Chuck asked.
“Melissa Owen. William sent us to the bedroom. He said he’d protect us. I heard shooting and growling and then he screamed.” She started crying.
“My name’s Chuck, ma’am. William did what he said. He protected you with his life. Now we need to get you and your baby to a safe place.”
“Is he dead?” She was sobbing and squeezing William Junior. He was crying, too. “Oh, my God, he can’t be dead. I just talked to him. He was going to come watch cartoons with Junior.”
“Melissa, there are a lot more zombies in the area. William killed a lot of them and we killed some more but the others will come looking for us. We need to get you guys out of here. Come on, let’s go.”
Melissa retrieved a small suitcase from the bedroom and allowed Chuck to guide her down the hallway. She saw the blanket covered body and the many dead zombies around him.
“I want to see him,” she said.
Andy shook his head. “No, you don’t, ma’am. They really tore him up. You don’t want that to be your last image of him. He saved you guys. Just remember that. He loved you so much that he gave his life for you.”
Chuck guided the weeping Melissa out of the house and down the front steps. William Junior was just whimpering now. Melissa stopped crying when they got outside but was clearly in shock.
“How are we looking?” McCain asked Scotty and Luis.
“Quiet for the moment,” said Scotty.
“Team Two Alpha to Team One Alpha,” came through McCain’s earpiece.
“Go ahead, Team Two Alpha.”
“We’re back. Where are you guys? We’re at that first house.”
“Hang on there. We’ll join you in just a couple. We have two more who need an escort.”
Tuesday, 1800 hours
The federal officers rescued four more families from the neighborhood and walked all of them out on foot. On two of the escort trips they had to shoot a few of the infected but they got everyone out safely. In all, they rescued nineteen people and killed forty-five zombies.
The men were surprised that they did not encounter more zombies or find more people needing to be rescued. The last two people that the teams had “rescued” were a retired couple that lived near the front of the subdivision. Al and Carla were the kind of people that live in every neighborhood. They know everybody and they know everybody’s business.
They did not seem flustered in the least by what was going on. Carla had offered the men some sweet tea. Al said that he had watched many of the infected wander by their house and out of the subdivision. Some had left walking up the street and others had just walked off into the woods.
“How many zombies did you see leave the neighborhood, Al?” Eddie asked as the older man finished packing his minivan.
“I counted thirty-three that I saw walking towards the front of the subdivision or into the woods. And that was just today. I saw, maybe twelve or fifteen late yesterday afternoon heading out of here. Any idea why yesterday and today we started having problems with zombies?”
Eddie shook his head. “No one really knows how this virus works. I’m sure it’s related to the outbreak they had at the high school. But why yesterday or today? We don’t know.”
Al had come out onto his driveway and flagged the officers down as they were walking up the street. They had just gone to an address that the police dispatcher had given them and had found the house abandoned. There was a lot of blood splattered on the walls and floors. The ripped up body of a woman was sprawled on the kitchen floor. Whoever had killed her had apparently left in pursuit of another victim.
Carla and Al weren’t sure that they wanted to leave their home. They had not had any problems and Al told them he had a shotgun and knew how to use it. As they sipped their sweet tea, Chuck and Eddie told them a few of the stories of what they had encountered in the rest of the neighborhood. When Carla heard how the zombies had broken into people’s homes, she was ready to go.
The officers stayed until Al and Carla got into their minivan and drove out of the neighborhood. They had agreed to go to a hotel for a few days, “until things calmed down,” said Al.
“I don’t know if things are ever going to calm down,” said Jimmy, as they watched the Al and Carla drive away.
“Yeah, with close to fifty of those things wandering off to who knows where, this whole area could be in trouble,” said Luis.
“And those are just the ones that Al saw,” said Alejandro. “There could be a lot more than that.”
Vehicle traffic had been increasing in the neighborhood over the last hour as people came home from work. It was hard to imagine what they were going to encounter at their houses. Chuck watched a black BMW drive by them at a high rate of speed.
“And don’t forget,” said McCain, “a lot of people were at work. The numbers may be a little lower because of that. Let’s walk back through the subdivision. We may get some more action before we get back to our trucks.”
“I’m surprised,” said Eddie, “that the police aren’t restricting access or even trying to quarantine neighborhoods like this.”
“Well, you have to remember,” said Chuck, “we are in the South. There are a lot of guns in a lot of homes and I doubt the police want to tell someone they can’t leave or they can’t return to their home. These local cops have had a rough time of it. Whenever the National Guard starts showing up in force, it might be a different story.”
CHAPTER SIX
The Next Phase
Athens, Georgia, Friday, 1100 hours
Amir al-Razi an
d Mohamud Ahmed were seated in Amir’s rental car, a brown Ford Focus. They were in the parking lot of the Georgia Square Mall in Athens. After delivering death to Peachtree Meadow High School, Mohamud had abandoned the Coca Cola van at his apartment complex and left in his silver Honda Accord.
Last night, Mohamud had seen his face on the news. He was now being listed as a person of interest in the Peachtree Meadow High School infection. The report had given his vehicle description and tag number. He had already swapped license plates with another silver Accord from his apartment complex on the day that he left. The Accords were such common cars that he was not worried about getting stopped. He had quit shaving the day before the attack and now had the beginnings of a beard.
Amir congratulated Mohamud on the successful operation at the school. “You have done well, my brother. The infidels are reeling from that attack. Would you like to strike another blow for Allah?”
Ahmed smiled. “I’ve waited for this moment for many years. I’d be honored to be a part of another attack on these infidels and to gain even more vengeance for my family that the Americans killed.”
As al-Razi shared his plan with him, Mohamud could not help but smile. This was such a simple strategy but had the potential to cripple another of America’s cities. Amir did not tell Ahmed what his own role would be or of the other agent that was going to be involved but assured him that there were going to be other strikes in conjunction with his. If somehow Mohamud was arrested, the less he knew about what Amir was doing, the better.
“This will be another great victory against the Americans. But why must we wait an entire week before striking?” Mohamud asked.
“The timing is very important. You must trust me on this. If we wait a week, our combined attacks will be much more devastating.”
