by TW Gallier
I found another trail beside a mountain creek. We could hear the zombies above us. They started coming down, but were so clumsy that they mostly tumbled down to splash into the creek. Soon they were tumbling down all around us.
We shot the ones we had to, but mostly managed to run past them before they regained their feet. I had to leap over two tangled together on the trail, before shooting another in the heart and another in the head. That was followed by butt-stroking yet another into the creek.
Leaping over the creek, I started up the other side. The zombies followed, but couldn't climb the steep slope as quickly. We began to pull away from them.
"This gorge is filled with them," Mike said.
And so was the top of that ridge. We plowed through them and went down the other side. I thought of it as a controlled slide, but there was little control. I did manage to not start tumbling. Mike wasn't so lucky. He came to a stop in another rocky, gurgling creek.
"Just shoot me," he groaned. "I think I broke my soul."
"I don't even know what that means. Come on," I gasped. Despite my words, I remained there a moment longer, huffing and puffing. "This is insane. Those nasty bastards are everywhere."
Up until then, I honestly thought Jenny and the boys would be safe up in the mountains. Now a renewed sense of dread was building. Would I even find them at the cabin? What would I do if they weren't there? What if zombies had already eaten them, or worse, turned them into zombies?
"Let's go! I have to get home!"
We followed the creek until more zombies blocked the way. And that's how our night went. Most of the time there weren't any zombies within sight. I could hear them tramping through the woods, but managed to avoid them. It still seemed like they all knew we were there and were trying to find us. I prayed it was just my paranoia.
As the sun rose in the east, we emerged into a mountain meadow. Before us was the mountain. The mountain with my cabin. I'd made it.
"What? Why'd you stop, man?" Mike asked, looking around frantically. "Oh. I hear gunfire in the distance."
I did, too, but it was hard to zero in on it in the mountains. Sound bounced around.
"That's it," I said. "My mountain. Home."
I studied it, found the access road, and followed it up with a finger so they could find it.
"Right up… What the hell is that?"
There was fire and smoke below our log cabin community. Then I spotted people on the road. Lots and lots of people. Using the binoculars, I got a better view. My blood ran cold.
"A mob is attacking them."
"How do you know it's not zombies," Mike asked.
At first it was just the way they were moving. Then I spotted other proof.
"I see weapons. It's a big fight," I said. "We have to help them."
"I have two magazines left," Charlie said. "How the fuck are we going to fight a mob?"
I just stood there watching the battle raging. There had to be a way. I'd hunted, hiked, and explored most of the area. I knew that mountainside like the back of my hand.
Rustling in the trees behind us gave me the answer. Zombies.
"My friends, we are about to set a horde upon a mob," I whispered. Grinning at them, "It's time to put those z-bees to good use."
Chapter 41
"More gas! More gas over here!" Sean cried.
We were fighting side by side. Another dozen men and women were with us. The closest members of the mob weren't more than twenty feet away. I didn't even bother using my scope. I just had to fire into the mob over and over. I couldn't miss.
The ones with guns were up front, shooting at us. They mostly had pistols and revolvers. One of the survivors had an Uzi, but I was pretty sure he'd just run out of ammo. Just to be sure, I took the time to aim and then shot him center of mass. He dropped like a rock, with another snatching up his dropped weapon. Someone shot that man, and then the woman who picked the Uzi up next.
Even with all of that slaughter the mob was inching closer and closer.
"I'm almost out of ammo," I said. What was in the rifle was all I had left for it. "I only have two magazines for my pistol."
The rest of my pistol ammo was distributed to others. I felt lucky to have kept the pistol under the circumstance.
"Do what you can then fall back," Sean replied through clenched teeth. "We might have to bug out and scatter. Take your boys and run for all you are worth."
Movement to my left pulled my eyes over. Some of the older teens were running down from the Meeting House with arms full of jars. I watched them go to their position above the road, light cloth wicks, and throw their Molotov Cocktails down into the mob. There was a pretty good fire raging already. It flared up even more.
"Bring some over here!" Sean shouted.
A young African-American girl picked up a few jars and headed running toward us. She made it halfway before she was gunned down. I cried out. She was just a child! Tears began flowing again as rage filled my heart.
Dropping my rifle, I jumped up and ran over in a crouch.
"Whitney! Whitney!" I cried, shaking her. Her eyes were open. She wasn't breathing. My throat tightened, I stifled a sob, and gathered up the three Molotov Cocktails that didn't break. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."
I raced back to my original position, bullets hitting the ground all around me. Sean took one of them. I kept one, and Rosa grabbed the last Molotov Cocktail. Travis had a lighter. He lit my wick. While he lit Rosa's and then Sean's, I rose up on my knees and threw that gasoline filled jar with all of my might.
It hit the road right in front of the mob. I didn't hit anyone, but at least it would hold them back another few minutes. Sean's jar landed in the middle of them, and then Rosa's struck over on the left side. Men and women began shrieking like banshees, running around in circles. The others avoided them, since getting burning gas on themselves would doom them, too.
"We have to fall back, Gunny!" Travis said. "I'm out of ammo!"
"Me, too," Rosa said.
"Go! Go!" Sean cried, waving them away. "Save yourselves!"
Rosa took off, followed by Travis and three others.
"I have three more magazines," Sean said. "I'll hold them as long as I can. The rest of you get out of here. Spread the word. Head into the woods and don't look back!"
Everyone already had their bug out bags prepared to go. Unfortunately, we'd just expended all of our ammo. We still had the last of the canned goods and jerky divided up between us.
"I won't leave you," I said, not sure where all that bravery came from.
I was scared witless, but he was about to sacrifice his life for everyone else. It didn't seem right that he die alone.
"No, you have to go," he said. "You have to take care of your boys."
I hesitated. Then noticed the mob wasn't trying to get past the fires. Indeed, it had become quiet. They were looking back down the road. That's when I heard the screams of terror.
"Do we have anyone down there?" I asked.
"No," Sean said.
Then I heard it. Cries of "Zombies!" The mob's rear was under attack. The sound of our battle must've attracted them. And then the head of the mob turned on us with wild, terror-filled eyes.
Sean and I opened up on them until we ran out of ammo. By that time it was too late to escape. They were almost upon us.
Chapter 42
"Zombies!" Mike screamed, trying to sound frightened.
"Millions of zombies!" I shouted. "Run for your lives!"
"Run! Run! Run!" Charlie cried.
We'd lured the zombies pursuing us up close, so that the mob could see them and the zombies could see the mob. I led the way up into the mob, pushing men and women toward the left, the downhill side of the road.
"Go over the side! Downhill. Zombies can climb up, but now down!"
Others took up the call. I could almost feel the terror spreading up the road. Then men and women began screaming as the zombies plowed into them.
"Fol
low me," I whispered to Mike and Charlie.
I turned right, and headed uphill. It was a pretty steep climb right there. I found a barely there game trail that paralleled the road and started up it. Whenever I saw someone trying to climb up, I shot him. Most went over the side and headed down the side of the mountain. Zombies were going down after them.
The middle of the mob was milling around, uncertain what was happening or they didn't know what to do. I didn't know which, but we helped them along by dislodging large rocks and boulders, and taking a few shots into their midst. Soon there was a general exodus.
Then we passed a patch of road afire, separating the mob in two. Most of them were between the fire and the zombies. I paused only a second to study the situation.
Gunfire near the entrance to the community erupted. The mob was surging toward a man and a woman. I saw her.
"Jenny!"
I lit those motherfuckers up with full auto. Running for all I was worth, I fired and fired. Mike and Charlie followed. We ran up to that last defensive position with Jenny and Sean, turned and opened up with all we had. Mike hit them with grenades while Charlie and I took his last magazines.
The mob paused, then turned. They rushed over the edge of the road and vanished. I stood there, out of ammo, huffing and puffing.
"Roger!" Jenny cried and slammed into me. I landed hard on my back, her full weight crushing me. But my arms went around her and she smothered my face with kisses. "You came home!"
Chapter 43
Three days later, I sat in front of a fire behind our cabin. Jenny was curled under my left arm. Harlan was asleep on my right, his head on my lap. Timmy was standing between Mike and Charlie showing them the rod and reel he got last Christmas.
"That's some fine venison jerky you made, Sean," Mike said. "I almost feel bad about eating so much."
"You boys deserve it," Sean said. "I'm very impressed with everything you've done."
I shrugged. "I just came home."
"Like you promised," Jenny whispered, sounding so content and happy.
I stroked her hair, and slanted a look at Sean. He was single. Did he have designs on Jenny if I didn't return? I couldn't imagine he didn't.
"She didn't cause too much trouble, did she?" I asked.
"Hey!" Jenny cried.
"Quite a bit, but she more than made up for it as a hunter and fighter," he said.
"I just kept everyone on their toes," she said.
That was about right. Jenny was always trying to keep the honest folks honest. She inherited that from her father.
"It's more than just your timely arrival, and the clever way you pitted the zombies against the mob. By crossing the country to return home, you proved to everyone that it can be done," Sean said. "You gave everyone hope."
I looked at Mike and Charlie. They rolled their eyes. I sighed.
We'd told our tale to the entire group the previous day. I expected them to be even more afraid of leaving their nice little slice of paradise. They surprised me. The vast majority, but by no means everyone, seemed emotionally lifted. The fact the three of us made it so far, across zombie infested lands, gave them hope.
"Tomorrow we leave for Canada," Jenny said. She lifted her head and grinned at Sean. "I told you it was the best choice."
"It's only best because the US government is shooting first and asking question later," I said. "Plus Canada is closer."
There was more to it than that. The zombies were all moving south, so to go due west was to charge straight into the thick of them. We hoped, but had no guarantee, that the further north we travelled the fewer zombies we'd encounter.
"Get plenty of rest tonight," Sean said as he stood. "We head out to the north at first light."
THE END
If you enjoyed Fighting the Hordes why not try the next in the trilogy: Horde Ravaged
Please consider leaving a review on the site where you purchased this story, or comment directly to me via e-mail or on my Facebook page.
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Check out these other stories by Rowdy Rooster Publishing:
TW Gallier
The Horde Rises
Fighting the Hordes
Horde Ravaged
Dawn of the Apocalypse
Tom Gallier
Edge of Darkness
Fantasy Tales I
Tales of the Bloody Sword Tavern
Scroll of the Prophet
Chance
Sword of the Valkyr
About the Author:
TW Gallier was born in Beaumont, Texas. He served 7 years in an Armored Cavalry Regiment (11th ACR Blackhorse Regiment), learning no useful skills. After the Army he went back to school to study electronics, figuring that would be a profession with job security. In 2008 he was laid off. It wasn’t the first time or last time he was wrong. But while in school, and holding down a full time job, he began writing in his spare time. In the mid-nineties he had his first short story sale and publication. He shares his life with his wife and their two dogs.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
List of other titles
About the author
