Before he climbed out of the truck, he said. “Gwen, you stay here with the truck and the kids while I find out why Mel stopped here.”
He exited the truck before she could question his decision or complain about her assignment. He readied the shotgun as he slipped around the right side of the RV. Before Donald could question the reason for their stop, he discovered Mel talking with three people. Donald slid around the side of the RV, using it as cover, while he kept his weapon trained on the targets.
Mel saw Donald’s approach and said, “Don, it’s OK, put your weapon down. These guys aren’t a threat.”
Donald didn’t know who any of them were and remembered the treat Sean and Joan had been. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. With his gun still pointed at the three strangers, they raised their hands.
“Look mister, my name is Ron, and this is my brother Tim and my sister, Amy. I’m ex-military, my brother is a local cop, and my sister works in a bar. We’re looking for a ride to a town about 50 miles north of here to meet up with our family and friends. We aren’t a threat. Please point your weapon away from us.”
Unlike Sean, Tim produced police credentials from the police force of the town they had just passed through. Mel quizzed Ron about his military service and he seemed legitimate. He didn’t bother asking Amy about how to mix drinks. Someone who served alcohol lacked a viable skill in this world of death. The zombies wanted human flesh, not a cocktail.
“We don’t have any room in my truck and Linda is still sick in the RV,” Donald said.
“Look, we’ll give up our weapons if we can ride in your trailer. It would be a lot easier getting to our family with a ride. Drop us off wherever you see fit since it will be closer to our destination than we are now.” Ron said as he offered his gun to Mel.
“Sounds fair to me. What do you think, Don?”
His mind raced. You keeping your mouth shut came to mind. But instead of expressing the thought, he said. “Where’s your vehicle?”
“It ran out of gas a few miles back. Turns out we weren’t ready for the apocalypse. Always keep the tank full of gas.” Ron said and then chuckled at his own joke.
Donald still didn’t like the situation, but he didn’t want to sign their death sentence either by leaving them on the side of the road. It went against his nature to let them die. Besides, when would be the safe time to trust others? Plus, he could contain them inside the trailer while they traveled. They collected the stranger’s weapons and loaded them into the Airstream.
During the next hour, they made it around 30 more miles north and travel passed without delays. Then the brake lights shone on the RV again.
This time Gwen said, “I know, be ready for anything” as she readied her weapon. He thought she might make a dutiful apocalypse soldier yet. Donald pulled to the side of the road and readied his weapons.
“Again, I know, stay with the truck,” said Gwen.
Ron and Tim charged from the trailer before Donald made it around the RV. Even unarmed, they were ready for a fight (or maybe to cause one?).
“What do you see?” Ron asked. Donald shook his head and continued forward. Mel stood outside of the RV again, but he didn’t talk with anyone this time. Instead, he stared down the hill at the road ahead of them.
None of them could believe what they saw below. A group of around 50 zombies surrounded a van full of people. The zombies were in a frenzy as they slammed into the sides of the truck, moaning and groaning, trying to get to their lunch. The van had a camp logo painted on its side. Even from this distance, they could tell those trapped inside were still alive and kicking. At least for now. Their human screams gave them away.
Mel said, “Any ideas guys?”
“In the ideal world, we would have enough ammo so we could pick the monsters off with rifles from a distance. It would be easy at this range and we would be safe from attack. However, there’s a chance of hitting the people inside the van,” said Ron.
“How about a distraction?” Tim asked. “They’re attracted to noise. With all the screaming coming from inside the van, the zombies will never leave the van alone.”
“We have to do something. They’re blocking the road.” Mel said to point out an obvious fact.
“I’m all out of C4 and RPGs bro. If we shoot, they’ll start coming this way, and even with all four of us working together, we can’t manage a group that large. Even if we had that much ammo,” Ron said.
“I think I might have what we need in my duffel bag.” Tim said.
When Tim opened his bag, Donald saw a half dozen hand grenades and two assault rifles inside, along with extra clips.
“When the world went to hell, I raided the property room at the police station. These items were courtesy of a gang of scumbags from a recent drug bust. The grenades are live, and I cleaned, oiled, and loaded the HK rifles myself,” Tim said.
So they constructed their plan.
###
Donald, Gwen, and Mel sat at the top of the hill with loaded hunting rifles sighted at the van. They positioned themselves far enough away to not become part of the action, but close enough to make easy headshots if they needed to. They would only shoot if the planned distraction failed. Each of them had a shotgun close by in case things fell apart and the zombies charged their location. You don’t have to take the time to aim with a shotgun. Point and shoot, just like the old time instant camera.
Ron and Tim took the grenades and the assault rifles and walked down the far side of the road. They used the tree line to remain out of sight of the van and the angry horde. Amy armed with only a 9mm pistol and a hunting knife moved down the near side of the road, well hidden within the cover of the trees. When the mayhem started, Amy would jump into the driver’s side of the van and drive away from any zombie threat which remained. Easy-peasy, they would save the passengers. If the zombies didn’t fall for the distraction, they might all die on this rural southern New Hampshire road.
Even though they knew the plan, the three of them jumped when the first grenade exploded. The sharp noise radiated for miles in the quiet New Hampshire landscape. It would attract zombies for miles. Some gathered monsters turned at this unfamiliar noise and peeled away from the van to check it out. The grave news was most of the group stayed put as their meal continued to cry out from within the van. If the passengers stopped screaming, the rest of the zombies might depart. The explosion riled up the van’s passengers too, and it made them only scream louder.
“It’s not working,” Gwen said.
A second grenade shattered the silence and vibrated the ground, and a few more zombies staggered off to investigate. There are a stubborn few who won’t desert the noisy snack that called from inside the van.
“Why won’t those last few zombies leave?” Gwen said.
None of the three had the answer, but Donald said, “Probably because they won’t stop screaming inside the van.”
“Maybe we can shoot the rest?” Mel said.
If the van wasn’t full of people, Donald thought they could open fire and take out the last of the stragglers who remained.
“We could hit the people we’re trying to save if we tried to shoot the stragglers,” Donald said.
The boom from the third grenade cut their conversation short.
“If they're not careful, they will end up attracting every zombie in a 50-mile radius this way!” Mel said.
Donald wasn’t sure if more zombies or more human survivors would be the more dangerous option. He didn’t want to stick around to find out.
The last of the group of zombies moved toward the sound of the last explosion. Shots rang out of the woods that dropped those last few zombies as they cleared the van. Amy slipped out of the woods and inched toward the driver’s door of the van. Donald noticed the straggler who crept up behind Amy. As the zombie reached out to grab Amy, his head exploded from the bullet fired by Donald’s gun. The distance and the elevation made it an easy kill shot for him.
Amy climb
ed into the driver’s side of the van. All Gwen, Mel, and Donald could do now was wait to see what happened.
CHAPTER 11 - AMY
AMY’S NOSTRILS FLARED as she inhaled a long and noisy breath. She worked at a bar that was true, but her worth measured more than any ordinary waitress. Her brothers continued to overlook her actual value even now as they depended on her. She had never helped herself to goodies from the property room of the police station or committed any war crimes. She didn’t think Ron and Tim were evil, but they had ambition for something greater than their brain power could deliver. At least their ambition had always been the justification they provided for their misguided actions.
Instead of chasing false ambitions like her brothers had, Amy spent her free time training. It started with intense physical exercise. One day she hit the gym and went for a run, and Amy hadn’t let up on the physical conditioning since then. Amy tried weekend camping and learned the survival skills necessary to live outside with nothing but nature to support her. She learned how to navigate through the woods without a GPS, hunt game, and what plants were edible. Then Amy learned about guns. They taught her how to shoot and how to take care of them. For the last six months, she had furthered her training with a survivalist group in New Hampshire. Before the apocalypse, people suspected preppers were wacky. But who had the last laugh now that the world had ended? Amy wished her brothers could see the value in her instead of treating her like their helpless little sister. They would see.
So, Amy rode in this trailer pounding her fist on her thigh and stared at both of her brothers with cold hard eyes. They didn’t value her, but they accepted a ride from strangers to reach the survivalist compound she had spoken of. Amy didn’t care about or fear these strangers. The old man seemed too kind to survive long, and the younger guy seemed capable of handling himself but no actual threat to her. It must be tough traveling with your kids while death surrounded you, so protecting his family would be his downfall. At least their family would all die together.
The aluminum walls of the trailer shone without defect. A touch screen built into the wall controlled the lighting, AC, and the projection TV. This Airstream trailer cost as much as a house. Either this guy had money before the world ended or he had been an opportunist like her brothers.
“We need to find us our own ride. We don’t want these clowns hanging out with us. They’re soft and they’ll get us killed,” Ron said.
“Don’t think about taking this guy’s stuff. I haven’t sunk to where I’ll leave a family out to die,” Tim replied.
“Are you getting soft, bro?”
“No, but why start a war we don’t need to fight? If we bide our time, will get a chance where we can grab something they won’t miss and run. We just need the right opportunity, and then we’re off to Amy’s place by ourselves. From what Amy said, they have stuff there to survive long term, not a rolling tin can like this.”
Her brothers are hopeless morons. She could run a knife through the base of their skulls now and be free of their stupidity.
They hadn’t been traveling long before the trailer slowed and pulled off the road. Amy's idiot brothers sprung out the door as they came to a stop, even though they weren’t armed anymore. If both brothers got eaten by zombies, then it might be best thing to happen to Amy. She headed outside after them to see what the delay was or to see the idiot’s demise.
When Amy reached the crest of the hill, she found the four men talking together as they pointed down the road. At the bottom of the hill, an enormous group of zombies surrounded a van full of people. The van had the insignia of a summer camp located close to their current location. Amy wondered what possessed them to stop here in the middle of nowhere and not continue their drive to safety. Maybe the van broke down on them? Screams continued to come from inside the van, and all they accomplished was whipping the monsters into a renewed frenzy.
They needed a plan, and they needed it fast. Even if they couldn’t save the people in the van, they wouldn’t be able to continue down the road with it blocked by the obstruction. Amy guessed the horde of zombies stood 35 to 50 strong without actually counting them. It wouldn’t be a tough shot for an experienced sniper at this range, but they would need a lot more ammo than what they carried. Plus, they would have a chance of killing the passengers. Amy wouldn’t care about a few murders. It sounded harsh, but anyone who didn’t help her survive wasn’t her concern. They’re just dead weight. Loud noises attracted those things, so any shooting would turn them into the target of the dead’s wrath.
Amy knew the men talked, but she had paid no attention until she heard her brother say, “I think I might have what we need in my duffel bag.”
When he opened the bag, she saw it contained two assault rifles and several grenades. Where does he steal this stuff from?
Then he explained. “When the world went to hell, I raided the property room at the police station. These were thanks to a gang of scumbags from a recent drug bust. The grenades are live, and I cleaned, oiled, and loaded the HK rifles.” Great, the thief saved the day again.
Their plan had dumb and dumber sneak down one side of the street while they packed the weapons from the duffle bag. She would hike down the other side armed only with a handgun and a hunting knife. The forest closed in from both sides of the road and would conceal their approach. Once they were in position, her brothers would use the grenades as a distraction to get the zombies to move while she climbed into the van and drove it away. Donald and his crew of losers would provide cover fire from the top of the hill if needed. Amy hoped they wouldn’t shoot her by accident. Amy’s job would be to pick her brothers up and then rendezvous with the others a little farther down the road. Without either brother saying a word, she knew the unspoken plan would be to keep going with the van and ditch the group. Right or wrong had become meaningless now, and this would help the three of them survive on their own. No need to carry dead weight with them. Amy didn’t know what her brothers' plan for the van’s passengers was, but it wouldn’t be a pleasant surprise for any of them.
###
Without alerting the zombies, Amy worked her way into position to wait for the first explosion. It didn’t take long. The first grenade shook the ground along with its earsplitting boom. A small group of the zombies staggered off into the woods to investigate the source of the loud noise. The van remained surrounded by zombies with no way for her to get near it without being attacked. Then the second grenade exploded and shattered the silence of the afternoon. More zombies turned away from the van and toward the noise to investigate. Too many zombies still obscured the van. A third explosion ripped through the air. The last band of zombies decided this third noise had been interesting and left to investigate. The coast cleared to allow her to approach the van.
Amy focused on nothing but the van in front of her and forgot all about her survival training. Tunnel vision blinded her during the journey, as she focused only on the goal of reaching safety. As she moved toward it, she sensed a bullet fly past her, just above her shoulder, and wondered why they had shot at her. Then she noticed the body of the zombie that laid behind her. It would have grabbed her before she reached the van if the bullet hadn’t ruptured its skull. Guess the group aren’t all dead weight after all.
A cacophony of voices greeted Amy as she climbed inside the van. Amy couldn’t concentrate, so she yelled, “Everyone shut the hell up!” After a moment the voices quieted, and that’s when she noticed the keys missing from the ignition. “Where are the keys?”
“The camp counselor took them when he got out of the van.”
“Where is he now?”
“There,” a girl said. She pointed at the body that laid on the ground outside of the van. Amy almost tripped over it when she ran from the woods.
The counselor’s body had lost its right leg from just above where the knee should be attached, and the left leg from mid-calf down. The zombies had gnawed both arms off above the elbows. Zombies ate Mr. Deadweight cam
p counselor alive. No wonder they’re so worked up. Even with pieces torn from its torso, it still snarled and snapped at Amy as she drew near. She used her hunting knife to put it out of its misery, so she wouldn’t attract any extra attention from the horde. A quick search of the counselor’s pockets turned up nothing. Amy slowed her breathing and searched the ground with wide eyes all around the corpse. Something shiny caught her eye halfway between the body and the van. The keys. They fell from her hands on her first attempt to pick them up because of the sweat that covered her hands. After she stilled her shaking limbs, she held on to them. Now to make it back inside the truck.
Amy closed her eyes and mouthed a silent prayer to the universe, then she turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and she discovered the van still had over a half a tank of fuel. The engine ran smooth too, so she didn’t understand what possessed the counselor to stop here and get out. There’s no time to bother asking, besides the passengers are too hysterical to answer her now. Amy made a three-point turn and headed to the rendezvous point to pick up her brothers. If they’re lucky.
When she found them, Ron snarled. “What took you so long, Amy? Were you off getting your nails done?”
No, thank you from either of them or any acknowledgment of the risk she took securing the van for their getaway. It’s all about them, like it had been all their lives. Poor little Amy didn’t exist in their world unless they want something from her.
“Move over and let me drive,” Tim said. “I want to get to this camp of yours in one piece.”
She thought about putting a bullet in both their heads right here, but Amy feared being left alone. Once her brothers served their purpose, then she would act.
Operation Z | Book 1 | Uprising Page 8
