"Yes. So the zombies may be here for awhile?"
We took chain-link fence segments to span the openings in the gap between the gates at the front of our building, the side openings to the breezeways, and the back openings to our breezeways. Once we were done with that, we built a wall of heavy bed room furniture along the edge of the two courtyards and the first floor breezeways. Every entry was sealed to the best of our ability.
Chapter 19
As a long day of work came to a close, a battered old minivan screeched to a halt in the handicapped spaces in front of our building. It had blood stains and deep dents on the hood, one headlight was shattered and the fiberglass back bumper cover was dragging on the pavement. Preston jumped out and threw open the van door.
“The Maroon Tigers are here, Mama!” Reggie exclaimed flashing his trademark smile.
Five young men jumped out. The tally included Reggie and five of his college classmates. Sabrina was overjoyed. Once we briefly peeled back our chain-link barrier, it was a beautiful re-union.
We all wanted to hear a first hand report from the world outside our complex. We wanted to know if we could escape and we wanted to know how many zombies were out there. Preston wanted to relax for a few minutes. But, he paused to admire our handiwork as he entered the building.
"Wow I like what you've done with the place!"
"We've recruited an army, too. We've got about two dozen so far--counting us. All of the Indian workers are 8,000 miles from home and have no place to run."
"Do they have weapons?"
"Just knives, hammers, and bats."
"You've made a good start with the building."
"We don't have enough people to secure the whole complex yet."
"How are we doing with guns?"
"We have a few. The guy downstairs says he's an ex-SWAT cop and he's got an AR-15, a fancy .45, and a lot of ammunition. Ralph and Victoria have .38 revolvers. We got a 9mm Glock off of a neighbor turned Zombie. I've got another 9mm Smith & Wesson, an old bolt-action Swedish Mauser, four .22-caliber rifles, a .22 revolver, and an antique British .38. But, I don't have too much ammunition."
"That's probably o.k." Preston said. "The noise attracts them."
"SWAT cop is trying to make a silencer."
"All we have to do is lean mattresses up against the windows, make holes in them, and fire through the holes."
"That sounds workable."
"It will reduce the sound significantly."
"I'll let SWAT Cop know."
"The building seems as secure as we can get tonight. I've been up for thirty hours. Let's get people together and see what we can do tomorrow morning."
"What it like out there?"
"There are literally tens of thousands of zombies wandering around. All the main highways have stopped moving."
"How did you get back?"
"We took back roads and sometimes literally drove over Zombies."
"That technique will work."
"If you stop, you will get mobbed. Only smashing their brains or decapitation seems to stop them. They come to noise and light. Holing up here was the right thing to do."
"Alright, well get some rest."
"Will do. Let's meet again at 0700."
"Apartment 1502 is vacant. Let's use it as a headquarters."
"Make sure people stand watches. I sure hope it's quiet."
"Me too."
Chapter 20
We posted a guard at each entrance to the building and a roving guard for the top floor of each half of the building. That basically took a third of our manpower. Everyone else retired to their apartments to get some sleep. Radio and television news was becoming sporadic. News people were abandoning their posts and news vans and reporters were getting overrun. The cable was out and we were watching over the air TV using our seldom used converter box.
We collapsed into our bed and watched the national news. Apparently, The White House had issued a statement that people should let proper authorities handle the Zombies. The police, FBI, CDC, and other federal authorities were the only people who could handle zombies in accordance with legal due process and with proper proper respect for their human rights. Everyone else was to stay in their homes and avoid contact with the diseased.
"Unbelievable!" I exclaimed.
"Does that mean,” Karen asked in a worried tone, “that we were wrong to fight the zombies?"
"No, babe, we have a right to defend ourselves and survive."
"But, what about that White House pronouncement?"
"I don't think the FBI will be coming for us any time soon."
We turned off the TV and tried to get some sleep. We were deeply tired. But, it was difficult to sleep with zombies roaming about and sporadic gunfire echoing in the distance. We also had vague worries about the pronouncements of our government. I tried to be reassuring. But, I had questions. Were we wrong to take out the zombies? Could they be cured? Would we get in trouble for this one day?
Chapter 21
At about 3 a.m., the dog started growling. I got up, pulled on my jeans, and walked out on the balcony. I could hear an alarm siren whooping across the woods and ravine and behind the buildings on the other side. It was coming from the front of the complex. I realized that it was the alarm for the rental office. I had heard it once before. It took the police and after hours maintenance about an hour to shut the alarm off. If the alarm didn't get shut off, it would be a beacon for all the zombies in the area. In the relative quiet of the cool spring night, it was the loudest noise around.
One of the sentries knocked as Karen and I were suiting up for battle. We asked him to go down and get SWAT Cop. Then we dressed quickly and suited up for a full-scale battle. In the courtyard, we met up with Preston, SWAT Cop, and six Indian workers. They had acquired another cricket bat and all sported knife sheaths made of cardboard and duct tape. I noticed that Preston was wearing a full-sized 9mm Beretta handgun on his hip in a black nylon holster. Ralph came out in a bath robe and asked us what was going on. Then he brought us a small tool kit in case we went in to disarm the alarm.
"How are we going to do this?" I asked.
"Either we shoot out the siren and strobe," SWAT Cop uttered. "Or we go inside and smash the alarm console."
"What about cutting power to the building?"
"That might work."
"Go up the back steps to the pool and go into the office through the gym," Karen added.
"Sounds like a plan!" Preston said. "You three go with them. SWAT Cop and you three come with me."
He opened the door to his ragged looking minivan and barked, "Mount up!"
We jumped in our Toyota Highlander with our allotment of troops. Preston led the way with SWAT cop sitting in the second row seat with his AR-15 and the van's sliding door open. He looked like a door gunner. It looked cool as hell and I kicked myself again for not buying an AR-15 before prices went nuts.
We zoomed out of our parking spots, around the bend, past the garden, around the bend, and up to the stop sign that marked the block with the pool, tennis courts, and rental office. We stopped side-by-side. The siren was loud now. At the next stop sign, we could take a right and ascend the hill, pass the mail boxes, and arrive by the trash compactor, and front gates. Alternatively, we could take this first right, park, and ascend the stairs to the pool and the back entrance to the weight room, club house, and office. We opted for the first turn and parked at a spot near the base of the stairs leading up to the pool.
The alarm siren was quite loud and we could see the red of an interior red flashing light emanating from inside the office. We rushed up the stone stair case to the pool area as a mob roughly three abreast. There was a square landing and a latched iron gate leading into the pool area behind the office. We could see a dozen shadowy figures shuffling around the pool. As we rounded the corner, a wall of putrid smell assaulted our nostrils. The whole area smelled of death and human waste. We saw another two dozen zombies slightly to our right with t
heir faces glued to the back windows and doors of the rental office. They turned and saw us as well.
They immediately charged. The Indians dropped back as SWAT Cop, Preston, Karen, and I all opened fire. SWAT Cop knocked the Zombies on the right of the pool down with one accurate headshot after another. Preston laid waste to every approaching zombie on the left of the pool. Aiming a little low due to the 300-meter sights of the rifle, I shot the big Mauser at Zombies coming in from the tennis courts on the far side of the pool. It took several shots for me to finally make a head shot. Holding too low hit them in chest. Aiming right between the eyes sent bullets over their heads. Fortunately, Karen used her .22 semi-automatic rifle from MegaMart to pick off the stragglers that I missed. Then, she methodically made follow up shots on any Zombie still moving. In less than thirty seconds, we had cleared out the pool area. But, there were still shapes moving on the tennis court and that damn alarm had to be shut off.
SWAT Cop, Preston, and three of the Indians entered the office through the gym at the rear of the building. Karen and the other three Indians rushed to secure the tennis court gate and I rushed to the pool house to secure the gate that led from the walkway around and behind the tennis court. I dashed through the pool house with reckless abandon since it only contained an old Coke machine. Three zombies were shuffling my way on the other side of the gate. I got there first, closed it and latched it. The three zombies were stuck on the other side. I smacked the first to reach the gate hard with the butt of the heavy Mauser. Teeth, blood, and puss sprayed everywhere.
"Yeah, you can't get me!" I yelled. Unfortunately, several previously unnoticed zombies on my side of the gate could get me. A couple had been milling about in the vending machine vestibule of the bath house. Another had been in the bushes to my left and still another had been in the bushes on my right. One grabbed my left arm and tried to pull me while another pushed on my right shoulder as if to pin me up against the gate.
I spun around with my Mauser to deliver a buttstroke to all three of my assailants. I connected solidly with the first and delivered glancing blows to the other two. Two additional zombies were stacked behind them waiting to get their teeth into me. They were so close I could smell their breath. I wanted them to get away from me. I squared my shoulders and brought the Mauser up parallel to my shoulders with the butt in my right hand and the fore-stock in my left. Then I charged forward catching the zombies in the necks and forcing them backwards. Two of them fell down. Three still stood.
I shouldered the big rifle and fired point blank into the face of the nearest zombie. As I worked the bolt, a second charged with arms outstretched. I poked him in the face and his left eye came out of its socket. I pulled the trigger again and he dropped. The third zombie was on me before I could work the bolt again. I had to drop the rifle and use my right arm to block the zombies gnashing teeth. Since he felt no pain, he was relentless. I reached my left hand into my front jacket pocket and clutched my trusty Kershaw spring-assisted folding knife. I pulled it, flicked it open one-handed, and plunged it deep into the throat of my already dead assailant. He slowed and his grip lessened so I stabbed him again and again until my knife found his spinal cord.
The three zombies behind me at the gate collapsed as Karen filled their brains with .22 caliber bullets. Meanwhile two of India's finest batsmen rushed up and lowered the boom on the two remaining zombies that I had knocked down. Like my nearly nine pound rifle, their heavy cricket bats worked well for beating the crap out of zombies. Somehow, the alarm was silenced and the flashing red lights were turned off. The battle for the office, the pool, the gym, and a little peace and quiet seemed to be over for now.
"Do you want a soda?" I asked.
"That shit will kill you," Karen responded without missing a beat.
Chapter 22
I was exhausted and thought it would be a good time to call it a night. But, looking down from our elevated pool area, we could see that there was still a lot of work to do. The alarm had attracted hundred of Zombies to the parking lot in front of the complex. Many had initially crawled under the gate. When the alarm was going off others had pushed on the center gate until it opened in the center wide enough for them to slip in two at a time. At some point the gate would have to be secured again. Then, all the zombies in the complex would have to be hunted down and killed.
Due to the sound barriers we couldn't see the mayhem on I-285, but we could see across the highway to the brightly lit signs for the grocery store, the health clinic, the drug store, and the big hardware store. While there were plenty of potential places to get supplies in a big city like Atlanta, there were also plenty of people who may have turned into Zombies. There were also plenty of criminals, survivalists, and desperate people to compete with for those scarce supplies.
Fortunately, there weren't too many zombies downstairs by our vehicles. Preston addressed the cricket players:
"We're back to bats, clubs, and knives. You guys lead us out of here."
The Indians formed a v-shaped formation and ran down the steps. The three zombies by our cars didn't stand a chance. The young men smashed their heads with gusto. We jumped into the van and the Highlander and headed home. Everyone was in high spirits over the victory. Some of the Indian men were swinging their bats as if to recreate their heroism.
"It ain't over yet, ladies." Preston barked. "You six take guard duty and send those on guard now my way."
The Indians ran off to switch places with the sentries. With seconds, another six Indian workers had emerged with bats and knives.
"SWAT cop, you've got some reloading to do. At some point, we are going to have to close that front gate again."
Next, the Preston pointed at Karen and me.
"You guys bring the extra cars down to the spaces by the garden."
In clearing out the zombie infested units, we had accumulated three sets of car keys. Karen got the keys and we found the cars by pressing the lock buttons and listening for the tell tale "beep-boop." I started up a Chevy Impala, Karen started up Johnny Businessman’s Acura, and Preston loaded his troops into their minivan. Then we all drove up to the garden which lay just on our side of the steep ravine. Just beyond the garden, the road passed over a culvert. It was a good thirty-five feet down to the creek below. We watched as Preston lined up the troops behind the cars so that they would be in formation to block the road. Then, he came up and knocked on my window.
"We're going to make a zombie funnel. We're going to find the narrowest part of the bridge and park the car at an angle with the nose in the split rail fence and the rear bumper angled out onto the road."
I knew what he meant and parked the car so that it was easiest for zombies to stay in the middle of the road. Then he asked Karen to do the same on the other side of the road. She complied and the cars created a barrier that fully blocked the sidewalk and shoulder and partially blocked the road over the culvert. The path of least resistance was straight down the middle of the road.
With the area secure, Karen and I took a look at the garden. In the past, tenants who signed up with rental office were given five foot by five foot garden plots in large raised beds. Nice gravel areas separated the beds. The hobbyist gardeners were raising vegetables, but not enough to feed a whole complex. Karen usually stayed away from the garden due to her fear of snakes. But, today, she opted to water some plants.
I checked on our little Army. At our end of the funnel, six Indian heroes with bats and knives were waiting for an untold number of zombies. We were going to have to get our Army some guns, too. We’d have to provide some training and some ammunition. I made a mental note of the situation. I wish I would have gotten guns into their hands sooner.
Chapter 23
Our defense was perfect. We would channelize the zombies right into our kill zone. There was just one problem. Where were all the zombies? There were tons of zombies up by the entrance and there were starting to be plenty outside of our fence. They were there drooling, snarling, and lo
nging to join us for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. As dawn approached, we saw only one zombie coming our way. It was a woman. She was a wispy, thin, brunette in a typical spandex yoga outfit. She was strangely attractive, vulnerable, and undead. All of the young Indian guys gawked at her as she slowly shuffled towards them. It wasn't what they had signed up for when they had grabbed their cricket bats and piled into the van.
As the young men stood gawking, the Preston asked a question, "I thought you were o.k. with stoning women to death and beating women to death?"
"No, we are Indian--not Pakistani!" Rajesh retorted indignantly.
"Just kidding," the older man smiled. "We're American married men."
He turned to me. "You know what happens when an American married man gets bitten by a sexy zombie?"
"Yes, I do," I replied grabbing a cricket bat from one of the youngsters.
I stepped up and bashed the frail, 108-pound zombie, right smack upside the head.
"First, you get bit. Then, you get sick. Plus, your wife gets really mad at you for letting yourself get bit by a sexy Zombie," Preston continued. "Then, you die. But, it ain’t over. Finally, you rise from the dead and your wife enjoys bashing your brains in!"
Karen emerged from the nearby garden plots.
"Hey, I heard that!"
"Don't look at me. He said it!"
Chapter 24
Since everyone was up and the previous night’s battle with the zombies had been successful, Ralph thought it would be a good time to take their little bichon frise dog, Fluffy, out. Tanya could come with them since she had grown fond of the little dog. Since the zombies coming to the exterior fences agitated the dog, Ralph had found that taking the dog out on the terrace-level worked well.
This morning they went down the corridor on the first floor, down the back stairs, wait for the dog to conduct some business, and then they went back towards their apartment using the terrace-level corridor. When they arrived at the landing for the stairs, they let the dog do more business in the clearing.
Zombie Complex | Book 1 | The Battle For Chattahoochee Run Page 5
