I agree.

Chapter 17: Till Death do us Part............................coming 12/26/10

deadlines . . . deadlines

Sorry guys! Got home late from work and still had a bit to go through. Here is Chapter 17.
Let me know what you think.
And I hate missed deadlines. Even when I'm the one that made them...

Chapter Seventeen: Till Death Do Us Part
November 14, 2011
Day 49

“Well that turned to shit in a hurry!” Chad shouted as he started the Ford Expedition and threw it into reverse as Bruce, Terry and two others jumped into the truck. Nobody heard him as they were to busy shooting down several Zombies who reached the truck just as they did. They just weren't smart enough to open the doors. Backing up and swerving to avoid a man running to a different truck, Chad rips the driver side rear door off the Expedition before the last man in can close it.  
"I think we waited to long to leave!" Bruce shouted over the blast of his M4 splitting the head of a emaciated Zombie wide open as it tried to enter the cab through the void.
Slamming it into drive and hitting the gas again, Chad maneuvered out of the parking lot. The passengers struggled to hang on as the huge SUV swerved left and right to avoid the huge numbers of Zombies that were now covering the roadway. It was a flurry of activity all around them as the other survivors struggled to flee as well.

  As they put some distance between them and the safe zone there appeared to be a break in the amount of Zombies spilling into the roadway. Chad opened up the accelerator a bit and picked up some speed. Just in time as up ahead he could see more infected suddenly enter the roadway and look his direction.
"At this speed I should have enough room to squeeze through." Chad said to Terry who was looking wide-eyed at the mob they were quickly approaching.
What he did not expect or see coming was the carload of other fleeing subjects that decided to pass him at that exact time. Their driver did not see the several Zombies standing in the roadway and the smaller station wagon would not be able to absorb the impact. The station wagon swerved in front of Chad's SUV and struck the front drivers quarter panel with its rear bumper. The sudden impact knocked the SUV violently to the right.

"Oh Shit!" Chad cursed and slammed on the brakes as his momentum took him on a direct path into the rear of a flatbed tow truck that was abandoned alongside the roadway.
Shattering glass and tearing metal along with a sudden intensely painful burst of stars filled his vision and hearing......

Gunfire from the back seat echoed in his head as slowly Chad regained consciousness, coughing from the chemical dust of the spent airbags that were deployed in the crash. Blood covered the airbag in front of him, blood from a severely broken nose, inflicted during impact. He tried to raise his left arm and screamed in pain. Looking down at it, he could clearly see it was dislocated. Sitting upright and groaning in pain he looked to the right. He could see the legs of Bruce…the rest of him was through the windshield and from what he could see probably had a broken neck.
Chad began to curse the asshole that ran him into this parked truck. Then also began to spit out several teeth in the process.
Goddamn it!
Still coughing he looked over to the front passenger seat for Terry, and found some of him anyways. For when he struck the back end of the flatbed tow truck the bed of the truck ripped through the windshield in front of the passenger seat and struck Terry at chest level… all that remained was the still twitching lower half.
Son of a bitch!  

Still staring in confusion at his fallen comrades, Chad was taken by surprise when hungry hands began pulling at him through the shattered driver’s window. Drawing his Kimber 1911, Chad shot the disgusting Zombie through the head. Now he could hear that at least one of his fellow passengers was alive and had crawled up onto the roof and was firing a rifle at several more Zombies who were closing in. Firing again and again Chad and the man took more and more down with accurate head shots. Chad heard the man curse as his rifle went dry. This was followed by the man jumping off the roof and running away on foot. Chad only caught a glimpse of the man as he fled. Reloading the Kimber with a fresh magazine, he prepared to defend himself alone.
Sadly he was one man. One man with a single handgun, injured and deeply outnumbered. It wasn’t long before multiple Zombies had managed to pull Bruce’s corpse off the hood of the truck and set down for a feast.
As Chad fired to keep several Zombies off the hood of his truck, he forgot that the totaled SUV was missing a rear door and did not know that a Zombie had managed to climb inside until it latched its teeth into his right shoulder. Screaming in fear and pain he shot this new adversary in the head, killing it instantly. Rapid breathing controlled Chad now as adrenaline coursed through his blood. The gig was up and all is lost; only one way to end this before too late. Steeling up the courage for what he must do he screamed in anger…...

As one of the last truckloads of beaten survivors from the fallen Bolingbrook base raced down the street, they can only watch in silence and wonder exactly what circumstances led to so many Zombies swarming all over a clearly wrecked and disabled Ford Expedition. There must be two dozen of them and they are well inside the cab and have clearly consumed anyone that may have still been inside the truck. Quickly passing it by they failed to hear the final gun shot that was muffled under the weight and sound of several Zombies preparing to feed.
"It must have been fleeing the safe zone." One says to another.
"And look at that!" Is his reply as he points to station wagon that had crashed as well and had experienced the same fate.  

********

"Last one!" Stephen said as he lit the row of houses on fire.
Gasoline had been draped over several of them and the flames quickly spread up the walls of the once expensive "McMansions" in the upscale neighborhood of Romeoville. Stephen and a select group of others had tasked themselves with setting the town on fire as they retreated South.
In the distance they could hear more gunfire as survivors fired from the backs of trucks on any Zombies that dared to try and weave their way through the fires.
“Do you think this is working?” Kirk asked as they climbed back into the Tahoe that Dan was driving.
“Maybe a little.” Stephen responds. “I just hope it buys others a little time.”
Thick black smoke hung in the air and they all began to cough.
“More company.” Amber says and points to the north where several Zombies are emerging from the smoke.
The last remaining passenger, Derrick Booth, sighs in dismay. “They just keep coming!”
“Dan, get us back to the prison.” Stephen says. “We have done all we can do.”
“Roger that.” Dan says and hits the gas. “We may be the last ones in.”      
Stephen gets on the CB in the truck and sends out a message to have all of the fire teams head back to the prison. Of the nine other trucks out on the patrol only five answer and Stephen is left to wonder to himself how many people were lost today.
And for what?
It was a long and quiet ride back to the prison.

********

Rumbling down the street approaching the Collins Street Prison, I couldn’t help but repeatedly slam my fist into the steering wheel in frustration, anger, and disappointment. Frustrated because we were running with our tails between our legs from a major ass whooping. It didn't really matter that we took the ass whooping from an unbelievably huge Zombie hoard and it wasn't because they were the smarter or stronger foe; we were just so helplessly outnumbered that once all of our traps and schemes were exhausted, we had no choice but to flee.
'I take that back; we did have choices.' I think to myself. 'Fight and surely die, or retreat and live.'
We choose the latter in that regard; I have little enthusiasm of becoming one of the undead if I can help it
“Why are you hitting the steering wheel? It did nothing to you Mike?” Mattie asked.
“I didn’t like the way it was eyeballing me,” I teased and hit it once again. “Besides I am just a bit upset that we got our asses handed to us by a bunch of mindless brutes.”
“They did have us a tad outnumbered and out flanked on top of that. The option of staying would have been suicidal.” She said matter-of-factly.
I could only nod my head in agreement, but the defeat still hurts no matter how you dress it up. A man has his pride right?

Now as we are pulling up in front of our prison base’s main gates we sat there in silence, each thinking our own private thoughts. I have no idea what she was thinking as I looked over at her, for what man truly knows what the hell women think. Hell they don’t even know what they are thinking half the time! My thoughts now, were simple and primal in nature. I began with thinking of the battle and what I could have done to make it work out into our favor. Then as we sat there waiting for the gates to open and my eyes drifting over to Mattie and drank in the curves of the body, damned if my mind didn’t go straight into the gutter.
She must have felt the heat of my stare or had some ‘spider sense’ cause right when my eyes narrowed into some sort of hungry predatory look she glanced over at me.
“Really?” she asked feigning disgust.
“Oh yea…really.” I promised.

The clanking of the opening prison doors broke the moment and we both laughed as I put the big truck into gear and we moved into the prison courtyard. As we passed into the prison I looked at the massive thick stone walls.
‘I would like to see those bastards try to breach these.’ I thought to myself.
‘I also wonder how long we have until the massive hoard seals us in? Not long I suspect.’
Backing my V-plow truck up to the inner perimeter of our private RV park I notice that Stephen has not yet returned. Mattie notices as well.
“I am worried about them Mike.” Mattie states.
“It’s Stephen,” I say calmly. “That fucker can fall into a pile of pig shit and come out smelling like roses. He will be fine."
Mattie reluctantly nods her head in agreement. Getting out of the truck we find that all of our human cargo in the back of the truck survived the bumpy ride home and are eager to get down. All around us the prison courtyard is a flurry of activity with so many new arrivals.
“We need to get to the command center and try to get this place organized.” I announce. “It’s turned into a God damn zoo here. And we gotta find Kleaner and ask him how his raid went. Looks like we are going to need those supplies we sent him after.”

********

Choruses of blood curdling screams pierced the darkening landscape. What little wildlife remained in the area burst across the terrain in fear or huddled shaking in their burrows.
Thousands upon thousands of demented souls, howling like wolves, shook what few leaves remained from bare tree limbs, sending them spiraling down to the barren earth. Here they were trampled on by shambling figures as they made their way unerringly to the west.
Wave after wave of the shrieking figures poured off the I-355 toll road exit onto Maple Street and spreading outward to the west slowly invading the countryside. As the monstrous intruders flowed on, they somehow sensed a large gathering of fresh sustenance ahead. As if someone was baking bread and the heavenly scent of it lured a starving man to the kitchen.
Thousands of hungry mouths began to salivate; thick ropes of bloody drool fell from thin withered lips as they clacked their teeth, almost as if fantasizing about ripping blood drenched meat from still screaming prey.
Staggering onwards the undead mass crept closer to their kill…

********

Jonas stood looking at the large dump truck entering the prison yard in disbelief. The massive truck looked like it has been driving through mounds of hamburger….bloody raw hamburger. The entire V-plow and a majority of the front end was covered in a thick smelly gook. And of course, the unbelieving heretic sinners were not harmed in the least. The big bastard, Mike, even looks healthier now than when he left! He was barely limping now and had a look of smoldering anger on his face…except when he looked over at the whore Mattie. She seemed to tame the beast inside of the man.
His eyes narrowed in anger, ‘What I have in store for all of them will soon make them bow before the Almighty Himself and beg for forgiveness.’
Turning away as to not get caught staring, he marched back to his trailer and entered.

Once inside he retrieved his two-way radio and turned it on. It was already set to the correct channel.
“Lewis…Lewis are you there?” He asked quietly into the microphone.
A much stressed, somewhat squeaky voice answered him, “Jonas, I am here. Is it time?”
Jonas looked out the trailer window facing the gate and spoke again, “Yes it is. When the next large caravan of vehicles approach the gates, I want you to fall in behind them. When you reach the court yard, I will meet you and guide your bread truck to the location we need to park it at until we can go over the items I had you gather for me.”
Jonas then gave Lewis a simple cover story for him to follow if the gate guards asked him any questions as to who he was.
After hearing Lewis state he understood what he had to do, Jonas turned off the radio and pocketed it in his jacket then exited his camper to await Lewis in the prison yard, just inside of the gate before Lewis had no answer anymore questions. Standing there in the darkening gloom of the long since setting sun, Jonas lifted the hood of his jacket to ward off the chill of the late fall breeze and vigilantly watched for Lewis’ truck to enter the prison grounds…

********

Lewis’ truck lurched forward and then abruptly skidded to a stop as the vehicle in front of his stopped suddenly. Cursing loudly, he honked his horn impatiently for the vehicle in front of him to get through the prison gates. The gate guard looked back at Lewis and shouted for him to hold his horses.
“Hold my horses? I got something for you to hold asshole.” He muttered to himself as he lit the first cigarette of his third pack of the day.
Sitting there watching the gate guard chat with the driver of the vehicle in front of him was too much for Lewis to stomach, so he began hitting the horn again impatiently.
The guard’s head snapped back to stare daggers at Lewis, after saying a few more quick words he motioned the truck through and stomped back towards Lewis.
“What the hell is your problem Mister?" He said angrily. "We have protocol to follow; we have to be sure nobody that is infected get's in.”
Lewis took a deep breath to berate the idiot and then remembered his cover story.
“I apologize sir, it is just I am from the Bolingbrook base and we were completely overrun and have been fleeing since. I am just anxious to feel safe inside your impressive facility.” Lewis said with mock sincerity.
The guard leaned into the truck to peer into the back, “Are you by yourself? What is all of that stuff in the rear?”
“Yes I am alone.” Lewis states. “I did have another but he was killed along the way by Zombies. The stuff in the rear is some food stuffs and supplies for the battle that was never put into use.”
The guard seemed to buy Lewis’ story and nodded and stepped back. “Ok buddy, go on inside and find the guy on the main drive wearing the red jacket. He will tell you where to unload the supplies and park your truck. Someone else will help you find quarters for sleeping.”
Putting the truck into gear Lewis had a large smile on his face, “Thank you kind sir.”

As the truck passed through the gate, Lewis visibly relaxed and sighed in relief. It was now dark and several lights around the courtyard provided some illumination. Most lights however were pointed out, to provide the guards with a view of the approaching Zombies. Several yards into the prison yard, he noticed a wiry subject staring intently at him as the truck slowly entered the court yard. The man motioned for Lewis to follow then walked off at a quick pace. Lewis paced him slowly with the truck to the south east section of the premises. After getting the signal to park the vehicle Lewis did so and got out.
“I take it that you are Jonas?” Lewis asked. “I don’t think we have actually met face to face.”
“No names asshole.” Jonas snarled as he walked past Lewis towards the rear door of the bread truck.
Jonas opened the back doors and stood there gazing hungrily at the items stored there.
“Well done,” Jonas said, “but do not get comfortable, we cannot have you walking around to be recognized by the man you despise. You will remain hidden at all times. Is that understood?”
Lewis now realizing that he was the subordinate of this partnership nodded his head dumbly in agreement.
Jonas laughed coldly, “Relax, you will not have to hide for long. This prison and its people are entering their final stages of existence...”

********

Kleaner groaned as he observed the prison gates open once again to allow inside another group of survivors. The caravan appeared to be five vehicles and packed with fighters from Bolingbrook.
The last truck was a Tahoe driven by Dan and Kleaner was glad to see Stephen jump out of the truck and walk up to him.
“Looks like you guys made it back in one piece.” Kleaner said. “And I’m glad for it.”
“Thanks Kleaner.” Stephen said extending his hand. “What’s the situation here?”
“Well boss, I don’t want to tell you how to run your facility here, but you might want to think about turning some people away. We are running out of room in the big dormitory building to house them. The cell blocks are just to dirty and cold to use. And also I think fresh water and sanitation problems are going to start to emerge.”
“I think that problem is going to take care of itself real soon.” Stephen responded. “The Zombies are not to far behind me. Will probably be here in force by morning to seal us in. At that point nobody else will be able to get in at all. In fact, along those same lines, I need to make an announcement that anyone that wants to go, better go tonight or risk being stuck in here. It could turn into a long, medieval style siege Kleaner.”
“That’s a good idea Stephen, and I agree.” Kleaner continued, “Also, I cannot confirm this but with this many new subjects entering, there is no way we are screening all of them properly for the Zombie virus. That has me worried big time boss; if one infected body gets loose in here with it this crowded, we will have to put down a shit load of victims before it is contained.”
Stephen looked around and for the first time seeing the unorganized layout of the new people have set up camp. People were milling about everywhere and in need of guidance.
“I’m going to get up to the command center and try and get this place back under some kind of organization.
Kleaner sighed in relief after hearing what he was hoping.
“Thanks boss, I knew you would help.”
Stephen patted Kleaner on the back, “No problem bro, we are all in this together.”
Stephen began to walk away then stopped and spun around real quick, “Oh before I go, a couple things. First, how did the raid go?”
“It went.” Kleaner said dryly. “I already filled Mike in.”
Stephen shrugged and left it alone. “Also, Mattie explained to me about Logan’s disappearance and she wanted me to relay that she is going to look into it. Please keep me updated if you two find out any news.”
“Will do boss.” Kleaner replied. “And that is welcome news.”

Kleaner looked back at the cluster fuck traffic jam now clogging the entrance. As the drivers of the vehicles in line of traffic began yelling at the vehicles seemingly holding up the process , his guards started yelling back and now nothing was getting done. Kleaner wished he could just slam the doors shut now and be done with it…
Grabbing his pistol he fired a shot into the air which gathered everyone's attention.
"Now listen up!" Kleaner yelled. "This is how it's gonna go!"

********

With the sun now having set and darkness in full effect, a separate massive hoard spilled down State Street then south across 9th Street. More moaning and howling creatures spilled across the 9th Street Bridge from the west side of the river meeting up with the huge group heading south towards Joliet.
Even in the moonless night the abominations stumbled and shuffled south.
As the cries of hunger echoed into the night, howls answered them back as if responding to them. More shrieks of undying rage came faintly far to the west.
They all seemed to say the same thing.
Living flesh is near!
Sweet, succulent screaming meat is close!
Dried, withered tongues licked over cracked and dirty teeth as they anticipated the soon to be had ecstasy of rich pulsing blood jetting into their mouths.
The stronger creatures knocked the slower ones out of the way and pushed onwards, pulling ever closer to their time for feeding…

********

I pulled out a couple cold Bud Light beers and handed one to Casper. Twisting off the cap I took a long pull as Casper opened his as well.
Smacking my lips in pleasure I had to appreciate the abundance of free booze in this time of societal breakdown.
“Man I needed that.” I said while letting a belch rip loudly.
“Cheer’s then.” Casper said as be popped the cap with a hiss.
I tapped my bottle to Casper’s and continued. “I just wanted to give you my thanks for the outstanding job you did out there on the interstate my friend. That was an incredible display of courage you showed in the face of the enemy. I couldn’t have done it better!”
Casper stared at the ground, clearly embarrassed by the compliments I showered on him.
Nearby was his girlfriend Holly, who while declining one of my beers, appeared to be happy just being in Casper’s presence and had a proud look on her face as I talked good about her man.
“Thanks Boss, but I was just doing my job. It wasn’t anything special.”
“Nothing special my ass…you single handedly held off hundreds of thousands of Zombies for half that afternoon! It was fucking amazing!”
Laughing at Casper’s attempt to blow off the kick ass job he did, I take another long pull from my bottle.
Casper glanced over at Holly who looked back expecting him to say something more.
Casper cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, “Boss I need to ask a favor.”
Wiping my mouth from my latest noisy expulsion of beer gas, “Sure buddy, what can I do for you?”
“...Would you care if Holly and I cut out of here?” He asked hesitantly.
“You mean leave? Why would I care? You are a grown man Casper, you don’t need my permission.” I said. “Stephen already put out the call over the intercom. If people want to go, now is the time. Many have already left in fact.”
“I know, but I feel like I owe you guys for helping me when I needed a friend.” He replied. “And you let me into your group like I was one of the family.”
“Casper we would rather you stay.” I answered. “But if you want to leave you have my blessing. Where would you go?”
Casper now had an arm around Holly’s shoulders, “I have family in the upper part of Maine. I know it is a long haul and I am sure winter has the roads all fucked up by now, but I want to get out and try to check on them while I still can.”
“Well then let’s get you outfitted with whatever gear and supplies you think you two might need.”
Holly moved up and gave me a hug.
“You are a special man Mike.” She said. "I will miss you and Stephen both."
Laughing, I hugged her back. “I have been called ‘special before', but never ‘special’ in a good way.”
We all chuckled and made our way to go look into what supplies that they will need when they leave, but not before I grabbed a few extra cold beers…

********

Lewis stood looking over Jonas’ shoulder, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Jonas slowly stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder at Lewis, “Do you mind? I really would rather not make a mistake here.”
“It would help if I knew exactly what you were doing and what my role in this is.” Lewis replied.
Jonas sighed and stood up straight, “Well if you must know in order to leave me alone, what we have here is all the needed materials to destroy this complex.”
Seeing the confusion on Lewis’ face he went on, “The items I had you acquire were the missing components I needed to make a very powerful explosive. It is called ANFO, more commonly referred to as a fertilizer bomb. The major components are Ammonium Nitrate and fuel oil along with the few other ingredients you also collected for me.”
Lewis looked closely at the stuff laid out on the bread truck floor, “And you say this will bring down the walls?”
Jonas laughed, “Oh yes, the size of explosion this will make will bring about anything down…remember Oklahoma City?”
Lewis’ eyebrows perked up and he whistled lowly, “Wow, that big?”
“Trust me Lewis, when this bad boy goes off, it will be like the Hand of God bitch slapping these sinful degenerates straight to hell where they all belong.” Jonas continued, “Now finish bringing me those materials from the hidden stash; this will be too large to assemble and move. We will build it here in the truck.”
Lewis nodded, turned off the interior light of the truck and quietly left after making sure the coast was clear.

Once the door was shut, Jonas turned the light back on and looked at his materials laid out on the floor. He really couldn’t start until Lewis brought down three of the large barrels to mix the diesel and fertilizer pellets in. At least he could work on the bump charge. ANFO explosive will not detonate without help; it needs a smaller charge to explode with its full potential. So he set himself to making a container filled with some of the quarry explosive, which was similar in nature only much more refined, that he was able to steal before the base personnel had left to fight up north a few days ago. Luckily he was also able to liberate a detonator as well.  

After prepping the bump charge he set it aside and set to working on the timer mechanism. In this instance he will be using a simple battery powered kitchen cooking timer. Jonas made short work of breaking it down and hard wiring the proper sequence of wires for the trigger device.
He didn't have it fully completed by the time he heard a faint knock on the rear door. Quickly extinguishing the light he opened the door to find one barrel left at the rear of the vehicle with Lewis nowhere to be found.
'Most likely gone to fetch the other two barrels.' Jonas thought.
Trying to muscle the large barrel inside quietly took some doing but eventually he accomplished it with no major problems.
'At least Lewis showed some initiative.' Jonas thought. 'I didn't have to send him back after the others.'

Jonas waited patiently for Lewis to return with the next barrel and helped him load that one as well. Climbing inside Jonas nearly shook from excitement as he envisioned the destruction his instrument of vengeance will wreck upon the heads of these unsuspecting bastards. Shaking his body hard to steady his hands for the intricate work ahead, he was a bit surprised that Lewis actually accumulated everything that he needed.
‘This project will take me all night.’ He thought as he got to work. ‘Too bad that fool Lewis doesn’t know he is a pawn in this game, he has proven most useful even if he is annoying.’
After a short time Jonas could hear Lewis return with the last barrel and then climb into the cab exhausted.
Lewis was sound asleep snoring in the front seat of the tuck in mere minutes.
‘Yes, quite annoying.’ Jonas again reminded himself.

********

Cold stiff winds whip across the barren landscape as the moon and stars dimly lit the night sky. The once vibrant heavily populated area now was empty and devoid of life. The wide four lane road of Route 7 (Larkin Ave.) that had been newly resurfaced over the summer months now lay bare of vehicle traffic. Just a few short months ago at this time of the day; these roads would have been a parking lot of a traffic jam with commuters trying to get to work. Now it was still a parking lot, but instead of being full of commuters, it was full of abandoned vehicles and several dozen severe car accidents that were long since left unattended. Many were scorched shells of twisted metal with charred human remains still sitting in them.
While these streets were bereft of human life, they were overflowing with creatures that made a mockery of the living that each of them once possessed.

Unimaginably huge multitudes of undead of yet another separate group made their way unerringly towards the human’s base at the prison in Joliet. With each stumbling step, each jerking movement forward, the gleam of hunger in their eyes grew brighter. Many of the subjects no longer wore any type of foot gear, for it had long ago fallen off or apart. These creature’s feet were worn clear to the bone, but the only pain they felt was the rage inducing pain of unending hunger.
And with this rage, with this hunger came the screams
With this hunger come the howls
The hoard surged south bound and finally spilled off of Larkin Ave. turning east bound onto Route 30.
The massive numbers spread out into the region like floodwaters seeking the low ground, howling and moaning their starvation to the new dawn sun that shone bright into their blood red crusty eyes.
While the un-living creatures surged down Route 30, large additional groups filtered out of the area and joined up with the main host.
Clawing and shoving at one another jostling for position they continued onward; edging ever closer to that intoxicating scent of food.
The chorus of wails shook nearby business’ windows which just added to the unholy racket.
In the distance from several parts of the city, many monstrously huge groups screamed their hunger as well.
All converging toward the same location
To feed
This time the prey will be surrounded, there will be no escape.
Above the mindless beings, dozens of birds burst from their nests as the thousands howled below…

********

The prison door slammed shut, severing several Zombie limbs as it closed. They had foolishly reached in, trying in vain to grab human flesh. It was not yet morning but the Zombies had begun to arrive. Slow at first and then a steady stream. Like a stream that is slowly raising due to flood waters. One last scout vehicle raced up to the gate and was let in before the Zombies closed the gap. From here on out it would be different. Nobody in, nobody out. A siege. Now the guards, who had not participated in yesterdays battle, saw for themselves the extent of the hoard. The moaning, screaming mass closed in on all sides of the prison as the guards held their fire and just watched the vise close around them. Stephen stood with the guards and watched in silence. To many people had been left outside. To many precious lives had been lost in Bolingbrook. Chad Evanston and their fellow co-workers Bruce and Terry had also not arrived at the prison. Stephen last saw them holding the right flank as the line was caving in and urged them to make a break for the prison. Although their actions undoubtedly helped many others escape, Stephen feared the worst when they failed to reach the prison.

The radio station, 1320 AM, updated their broadcast saying that the prison was now off limits to refugee’s and the warning was also being given over the HAM radio. In the morning would begin the task in earnest of organizing the survivors and the supplies to stretch things as long as possible, in hopes that the situation would change in the future. The prison now held over six hundred people and this presented a daunting task. At least eighty or ninety had fled the prison prior to the doors shutting and were now on the move to various locations, fate unknown.  

Stephen also wanted as many people as were willing inside the prison to prepare for the unlikely event of a breach. He wanted the V-plow truck outfitted for his group to be able to move on a moments notice if necessary, and was making plans to outfit it with supplies. Several others were making similar plans as well. One last thing that Stephen had done before being sealed in was plant 20lb propane cans in intervals along a path out the west gate of the prison. In the event that they needed to make a break for it, he had them set with an electric detonator, rigged to blow in a series and possibly cut a path out. He knew it was a long shot, but with their backs against the wall it was better than no shot at all. Many survivors are still up, sitting around the community bonfire, talking about yesterdays battle and what tomorrow might bring.

Sitting alone around the fire is a new refugee, one Ben Porter. And Ben, a 34 year old former manager of a cell phone store, was now sweating. A loner at the Bolingbrook safe zone, Ben never opened up to anyone about his past. Nobody ever asked and Ben never offered. He hung back during most of the days heavy action, only firing his Browning A-Bolt .270 on a few occasions. It was not his rifle and was given to him just prior to the battle. He was not even sure if he hit any Zombies. But the more time that went by, it appeared to Ben that one of them may have gotten him.

He was not sure exactly how it happened. When the order to withdraw was given, Ben was one of the first guys in a vehicle and ended up the front seat passenger of a fully loaded Dodge Caravan. While fleeing the safe zone the driver of the van hit several Zombies, one of which came through the windshield and a nearly severed arm ended up slamming into Ben at a high rate of speed. The survivors tossed the Zombie off the hood as it struggled and thrashed inches from Ben's face and limped back to the prison. The mini-van was one of the earlier vehicles to arrive and only after arriving at the prison did Ben notice the small scratch on his left arm. Something on the Zombie had cut right through his jacket and a small cut, almost just a scrape, was visible.

That was several hours ago and now Ben carefully stared at the one inch cut. It was now a deep red and small dark lines were protruding away from it. Ben felt like shit. Quickly covering up the cut so nobody else would see it, Ben silently starred at the fire. He hoped, like a lot of men do, that if he just ignored the problem it would go away.          

********

All night long I had slept like shit; normally you could run a chainsaw next to my head and I would sleep like a baby.
But not last night
Last night I had a bad feeling like I was being watched, like something was going to jump me any second. I even went outside the RV fully loaded for battle to check on my surroundings. Upon not seeing a damn thing I was about to head back in for some much needed rest when I heard it. It was difficult to hear with all of the background noise of the prison base, but there it was.
The damned creatures had found us at last.
The faint sounds of screams and howling somehow woke me by some sort of primal instinct warning me to get the fuck out of dodge.
However with the huge solid stone walls of the old prison, this was most likely the safest place in the area at the moment.
We had taken the fight to them and lost purely because of the endless numbers, I guess now we will let them try and take us this time.

Unclipping the radio from my belt, I raised Kleaner on it. He was finishing up his night rounds with the guards.
“Hey buddy.” I say. “I really hate to bother you but let me know when the Zombies arrive in force. I can hear them off in the distance.”
There was a rather long pause (probably cursing) finally a tired voice replied “Roger that, they are already here. Been flowing in. Don’t sweat it, not much you can do about it now.”
"One other thing." I ask Kleaner. "Any sign of my buddy Chad and the guys? Remember, I told you to watch for them? They were to be in that huge police Ford Excursion?"
"Not a sign of them boss." Kleaner replied. "If I hear anything I'll let ya know."

Cursing, I return to the former man cave RV bus I eagerly climb back into the warm bed and slide up against Mattie’s naked body and within minutes of breathing in the sweet scent of her hair I was again knocked the fuck out. So much to do, but I deserve to sleep in after yesterday. Not even the Zombies could keep me awake.

********

Groaning as she woke slowly, Mattie eventually became fully awake. She was currently unable to move however. Mike had his large frame half on top of her with his right hand having a death grip on her right breast.
It wasn’t a tight painful grip; she was just unable to move his damned big arm that was draped over her. Glancing at her watch she sees that it is late morning and was glad for the opportunity to sleep in. They both needed it badly, especially after last night’s activities. Now, as she was slowly trying to wriggle free and escape the clutches of the sleeping man, she was aware of another part of his lower anatomy announcing that it was wide awake. This even though he soundly slept and snored into her shoulder.
‘Good God!’ she thought. ‘I have created a monster…’

Giggling quietly she was finally able to detach herself with quite a bit of effort. Finally free, she tip-toed to the bathroom and cleaned herself up and got ready for the day.
Having a lot to do today, she also wanted to keep looking for the answer of Logan’s disappearance. As of yet she had very little hard evidence to go on.
Again trying to be quiet so Mike could get as much rest as he needed, Mattie slipped out of the huge bus RV and set off to start up her investigation.

Mattie closely looked at her notebook. On it she had several things written. Among them were stuff that she had gotten from the in depth interview with Kleaner last night. The things she has written down might or might not help her figure out exactly what happened to the big man.
First place she wanted to look was the guard tower where they were working on the .22lr experiment. After that she had a few other places to check as well.

As Mattie made her way across the prison yard she couldn’t help but be amazed at the amount of people milling around.
“Stephen won’t like seeing so many people sitting around expecting to be taken care of.” She muttered, “I wouldn’t be surprised to see him handing out shovels for no other reason than to have everyone dig fighting positions around the prison yard.”
Mattie chuckled to herself and made her way to the top of the guard tower in question. Once at the top she looked out the tower windows and observed the large Zombie hoard that had descended during the night. Gazing for a moment at the sickening sea of lost humanity, she sees the different colored sticks that Kleaner and Logan were using to mark the range and for their .22lr effectiveness experiment.
‘Plenty of targets now.’ She thought to herself.

Mattie suddenly turned to face the young male guard behind her. “Excuse me, were you working the night of Logan’s disappearance? If not, when was the last time you saw Logan up here?”
The man’s eyes jerked up from staring at her ass to look guiltily at her, “Uh sorry, I wasn’t working that night ma’am. Last time I did see him was the night before when he made his rounds. It should be in the guard log book he kept.”
Mattie jotted down the information he gave. “I see…and do you know of anyone who might have had a beef with Logan that would seek to do him harm?”
The guard had a shocked look on his face, “You think someone killed Logan?”
Mattie put away her notepad, “I don’t know; I need to look around more. Thanks for your help.”

At the bottom of the tower she again looked at the huge new influx of people sitting on their asses doing nothing and shook her head.
‘This investigation is going to be a pain in the ass now with all the new folks, I will have to figure out who was originally here and who wasn’t.’ She thought grimly.

********

Stretching his arms overhead to relieve the soreness of his back from doing so much standing and walking the last few days; Kleaner groaned as several things popped disturbingly loud in his spine.
It had been a long night accompanied by poor sleep.
Making his way across the prison yard he made his way to one of the guard towers, for he has heard several thousand rounds being fired from it in the past hour. Entering the observation room, he saw five men posted at the windows firing round after round with a pause only to reload their various magazines and rifles. All around the prison now the guard towers are alive with gunfire. The floor of the room was littered with shell casings and the smell of cordite was thick as the smoke lingering in here.
“Hey guys, what’s with all the shooting?” He asked.
One of the men looked over his shoulder, seeing who it was stated “The Z’s are thick as flies on a piece of dog shit boss. It has gradually picked up since before daybreak and hasn’t let up since.”
Kleaner stepped up to the window and looked out which gave him a great view of Collins Street for which the prison was named after.
Down below at street level the area was heavily covered with scores of twice killed corpses.
‘Damn good shooting.’ He thought. ‘They are definitely getting better.’
The problem was that even with the huge amount of kills they had racked up, there seemed to be easily three or four times that amount still on foot, or in some cases crawling from lack of feet or legs, heading towards the prison.

Kleaner leaned far out of the window to look at the base of the wall only to see several ranks deep of undead wailing and battering their hands in an act of futility against the massive stone walls.
Kleaner leaned back inside, “Cease fire men. We don’t have the ammunition to kill this many and it looks like you guys are almost dry up here anyways. I will pass the word to the other guard towers as well. No sense in exhausting all our long range capabilities when they can’t bother us other than their annoying moans and screams.”
Kleaner turned to leave, “Raise me on the radio if the situation changes but as of right now just watch them.”

Stomping heavily down the steps back to ground level Kleaner did not want to alarm the guards that the numbers they saw was nothing compared to what he knew was soon to reach their doorstep… As bad as it already was, it was only going to get worse.

********

Like a raging river spilling over its embankment the ragged beings that once were humans who had families and loved ones moved down the street howling for blood. The bloated figure that once was a career 1st grade school teacher snarled her hunger at another male figure that used to be a construction worker. A former hairdresser savagely clawed a disfigured man out of her way wearing the uniform of a State Trooper that was caked in blood and filth. At a very large intersection the massive group has made a sharp turn to the left onto east bound Ruby Street.

As their thousands moved ever closer the front ranks met up with another colossal collection of like subjects pouring south down Route 53. The two immense clusters formed their own version of a bottle neck as thousands tried to force their way to the front when the beings before them slowed. Slowly they merged together and began to cross the Ruby Street draw bridge where they were slowed again. The west side of the bridge had been fortified somewhat previously from Kettle’s men in the recent past. A vehicle barricade was left partially blocking the roadway. There was enough space for a vehicle to pass through…but not enough for untold thousands to attempt the same.
And so a second bottle neck formed
And so a huge part split off and made its way south down Bluff Street; while the majority of the host crossed at the bridge. This secondary group that split off, made its way to the Jackson Street Bridge where the numbers of grasping and clutching subjects were not enough to slow a large part of them down.

The immense group infiltrating the surrounding neighborhoods as it moved east through town eventually met up with the monstrous numbers from yet another huge cluster that had spilled off of I-355.
Hungry hate filled eyes turned north up Collins Street and the combined howls shook the very earth they tread upon…
Outside the huge stone walls the uncountable numbers of howling beings from the north finally reached the place that the smells of flesh originated from. Slamming bony fists against the wall only made them shriek in rage when they were unable to feed.

From the south the enormous army of undead spilled around the prison walls like a stone in a creek, until all four sides were surrounded. So thick and deep were the ranks that the end was not seen in the quickly darkening distance. The smell of fresh raw meat so close by but unattainable sent the entire hoard howling and screaming in rage. And it did not relent, for these beings did not need rest and so never tired of the howling, of the screaming, of the moaning.

These creatures did not go away once they could not reach the meat on the other side of the infuriating walls, for there was no more food anywhere to pull them away. As the day develops, the enormity of the situation hits home for all the living people inside the prison. Many come up and see for themselves.
This is it, there is no fall back positions…The stand must be made here.

********

Stephen looked over some updated numbers. It appeared that for the current population of the prison, they had enough food to make it to next summer. That was longer than he would have guessed. That was without the contributions from the livestock. Before it ran out something would have to give and a way to re-supply from outside the prison would have to be figured out. Stephen was hopeful that maybe the Zombies would just die off this winter and everything would be fine by spring. He didn't have his hopes up but he also knew that they had all winter to work on the problem.

Today he wanted to go over some security concerns with Alpha, Bravo and Charlie platoons. With raids outside the prison no longer possible, Stephen wanted to beef up security inside the prison and wanted the platoons on three eight hour patrol shifts. With so many people anything was possible and Stephen felt that any issue needed to be dealt with in a timely fashion. It was decided that the first shift would start at 7:00 AM and would be handled by Bravo platoon. Charlie would take midnights and Alpha would take the afternoon shift. Stephen also mentioned that more platoons would probably be formed over the winter to augment the shifts and provide extra security on the walls.

An after action report of the battle was then conducted and Stephen went over the numbers as far as personnel, ammunition and weapons. Alpha platoon suffered no casualties during the battle, while Bravo and Charlie each had two people missing and presumed dead. Seventeen other survivors from the prison also perished while Bolingbrook and Romeoville lost nearly a hundred people, mostly during the retreat, which had turned into a route.

As Stephen concluded the meeting, which was being held in the community center, a commotion could be heard coming from the command center. A group of prospective HAM and AM radio operators were meeting and a disturbance had broken out. Stephen had a sick feeling in his stomach and recalled the earlier conversation with Kleaner about not being able to screen all of the new intakes and all of the personnel fleeing the interstate battle.
"Thank god we are all here together!" Stephen said as he led the armed platoons towards the sound of the disturbance.

In the meeting, Ben Porter sat alone in the corner. Having been roped into the meeting after it was discovered that he managed a cell phone store, Ben reluctantly attended. He did not feel good, but did not want the others to worry, so he hid his discomfort. Now sitting in the back, out of sight of the others, he could tell he was burning with fever, and his arm was now throbbing. It felt a lot worse in the last few minutes.
'More like a stab wound now.." Ben thought.
And now Ben began to get mad as well. Irrationally mad.
'What does a cell phone store have to do with radio's anyway.' Ben thought. 'I feel like shit, what the fuck am I even doing here?
But he was beginning to have trouble concentrating as his head began to pound as well, clouding any remaining rational thought.
Ben felt something wet on his face and his hand revealed a bloody nose.
This pissed Ben off even more and the pain increased in his head. He could no longer even comprehend what the man in the front of the room was saying. In fact, Ben wanted to hurt him...
Ben could feel himself slipping away, and as he thought he was going to slip into unconsciousness, he suddenly stood up and tore into the person sitting in front of him.

The man was Amber's uncle, Adam Wells. An avid survivalist and armed with a USMC K-BAR and Colt 1911 Gold Cup, Adam still didn't stand a chance. He was torn open from behind before he even knew what happened. The next victim was Tyler Wade, The teenage son of Eddie, who helped drive the tanker trucks in yesterdays battle. Tyler had no time to even react to Adam's screams, and now with a gaping wound to his arm, it was mere seconds before he turned as well. Now everyone was yelling and moving in total confusion, unsure what just happened. The next victim was Derrick Booth, who was the Bolingbrook survivor that had worked at radio station and helped set up the prison AM station. Derrick was helping with the meeting and had come up with several great ideas that he would never be able to implement. He was savagely attacked and blood from a large gash in his neck coated the floor, making it wet and slick. Within less than a minute, the conference room they were using was covered in blood and gore, with seven new Zombies pouring outside. Derrick was the first Zombie put down as a fleeing survivor shot him in the head with a .38 revolver. Another survivor ran towards the fire pit with three Zombies in pursuit. Two were killed by attentive people who recognized what was happening and were armed as well, but the third managed to bite into several others before cut down by a well aimed 5.56 round. Screams and shots erupted all around the fire pit and nearby area.

Stephen lowered his carbine after the shot and quickly ordered the three platoons to surround the entire area and try to quickly isolate the spreading infection. Alpha went left and Bravo went right. Stephen also told Charlie platoon to spread farther out and make sure nobody had yet slipped past. If the platoons had not been meeting nearby, Stephen now felt it was certain all would have been lost. Tough decisions had to be hastily made as rifle fire cut down anyone who tried to breach the line. The men cried for anyone not infected to lie down, pleading that they needed clear shots at any infected. Stephen was sure that in the confusion several people, although not infected, probably just panicked and were shot. Shots rang out creating a dangerous cross fire as well and two of his men were hit in the exchange. Both wounds would end up being fatal. Two Zombies sprung from the doorway of the command center and were cut down from a distance. The office staff in the command center thankfully had the door locked and were able to wait it out as Stephen and a few others closed in and dispatched several Zombies during a room by room clearing of the entire building. It was over in less than ten minutes, but twenty three former survivors were dead. Stephen had teams sweep the entire yard and found that to the best of their knowledge no Zombie had been missed.

It took several hours for the rumor mill to die down and the identity of the victims could be determined. Eddie was a wreck, having lost his son, and Stephen had to have him detained temporarily for his own safety. Amber also took the loss of her uncle pretty hard, while Stephen did his best to comfort her. The men took the task of killing their own quite hard as they had grown to know many of the ones now slain. There was nobody to shed a tear for Ben Porter.

The prisons inhabitants remained on edge and all three platoons were left on patrol for the rest of the day to calm everyone's nerves. Nightfall brought a quiet and somber mood as the Zombies wailed outside the walls. The bodies were burned in a discrete area near the live stock pens, and by morning things began to slowly return to normal. So much organization and work needed to be done in order to keep everyone alive for the coming months that mourning was just not a luxury they could afford. First up, everyone needed to get reexamined medically and that took the whole medical staff most of the day. The entire population with the exception of a few guards had to assemble in the cafeteria and given a number in line. Everyone was then to be given the equivalent of a doctors note, a hand stamp, along a red sash to wear upon completion of the exam, so that we could be certain nobody was missed.  The first exams began at dawn with a temperature reading and a physical check for cuts. No other injuries were reported throughout the day, with the last exam concluding just before dinner.          

********

Walking towards my RV after my examination, I paused to check out the latest group of refugees that were still trying to unpack their meager belongings and settle in. Many had looks of despair on their faces, many more small children cried in their parents embrace.
The shock of the infected man that rampaged through their ranks yesterday was palpable. Many wounded subjects were mercilessly put down as well to contain the outbreak. For all I know those adults weren’t even these kids real parents, most had probably died at some point during this unending nightmare. A thin boy about ten years old or so caught my eye, standing outside the group of people looking down at the ground. The poor kid looked like he was half starved and nobody paid him a bit of attention.
Slowing down I headed over to him. “Hey there bud. What’s your name?”
“Max sir.” The kid said looking up at me then quickly back down.
“Where are your mom and dad at son?” I gently asked.
“They are all dead sir.” Max said still staring at the dirt.
“Well Max, I have some work to do, would you like to help me?” I asked, then quickly added. “But I hate to work when I am hungry, would you care if we got a bite to eat first?”
The small boy’s head snapped up at the mention of food.
“Yes sir I would like that please.”
Laughing I steered him away from the group that he seemed to be an outcast with…they didn’t even notice he was gone.
Max followed me like a lost puppy, eyes filled with wonder and a bit of fear of uncertainty mixed in with it.

We entered the cafeteria and even though it was not chow time I was still able to persuade the cooks to fill me a plate of hot food for the little guy, I did snag me a can of sliced pears for me to snack on.
Grabbing a seat at one of the many empty tables I set the plate down in front of Max and sat there in amazement as I watched the little guy pack away enough meat and instant mashed potatoes to easily fill me up.

While Max inhaled his meal I got a hold of Mattie on the radio who was still trying to figure out the cause for Logan’s disappearance.
I let her know I was at the chow hall, and that since I was here was going to be splitting some wood out back behind the building later.
Mattie advised she would come get me at dark (about an hour) and would bring a couple refreshments as well.
Putting the radio back on my belt, I looked up to see Max staring at my untouched can of sliced pears.
Chuckling I pushed the open can towards Max who snatched it up and downed it in seconds.
“Ok partner, now that we have had some grub, let’s get to work.”
Wiping the sweet pear juice from his face Max hopped up, “Ready when you are sir.”
“Max, my name is Mike; you don’t have to call me sir.”
Max looked a bit uncomfortable, “But my Pa always said to call grown up’s ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’.”
“What happened to your dad son?”
Max stared at his hands in his lap for a few moments. “He got bitten sir, and then got really sick. My dad then attacked my older brother who told me to run. That was a long time ago. I haven’t seen them since.”
Damn…the horror these little kids must have gone through. It isn’t fair.
“I am sorry Max.” I say, “You ready to give me a hand with some chores? If you do a good job I will get you another plate of chow when we are done.”
“I would like that.” He said.

I then led Max around to the backside of the chow hall along the south side of the east wall to where the huge pile of wood was stacked. Soon we had a fairly good system set up. I would split the wood while Max took the pieces and stacked them nice and neat in a row. Within minutes I was shedding my jacket as I began to warm up. Max also was getting a good workout as well. Never complained and worked hard to impress me. Hell I wished the new adult refugees worked half as hard as this kid. Every now and then I would let Max take a swing or two with the ax, both of us cheering whenever a chunk was split in two. The exercise felt good and we hit it hard, both of us getting our money’s worth. As time went on as it began to get dark, I was looking forward to Mattie showing up with those cold beers to call it a night. Placing another chunk of wood upright, I took aim and slammed the ax home again.

********

Mattie slowly made her way across the prison yard heading over to where Mike was splitting wood. In her left hand were two nicely chilled bottles of Bud Light beer. In her other hand was her notepad filled with her information regarding Logan’s missing status.
There was dreadfully little news discovered today regarding that topic, and it was beginning to look more like a criminal matter rather than just a missing person. Logan had just vanished.
‘I just hope whoever caused Logan’s disappearance didn’t die in the highway battle so they can beg for mercy when we find out who did this.’ She thought.

Putting away her notepad, Mattie picked up her pace and transferred one of the beers to her other hand. Up ahead she was nearing a large bread truck parked near the condemned off limits section of the prison. So intent on looking forward to seeing Mike again she didn’t notice a wiry looking man arguing with another subject who was out of sight in the rear of the truck…

********

“For the last time Lewis, I know you have issues with the people running this place but they are not your typical run of the mill helpless citizens." Jonas angrily said. "They are all battle tested warriors, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. We just cannot run up and attack them and hope to survive. We need to think this through and plan accordingly.”
Lewis who was in the back of the bread truck argued back, “But you do not understand! Those assholes destroyed everything I had. My government supplied ‘safe zone’, killed my brother and destroyed his compound in the process, physically assaulted me, and had total disrespect for any type of authority I had formerly held.”
“Trust me Lewis,” Jonas snarled back, “there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t want to make them pay for what they did to your saint of a brother. But we are all of what is left to see that your brother’s murder is avenged. That is why we must play our cards right.”
Lewis blew out a stress filled breath that he was holding noisily, “It is just so frustrating!” he said. “What do you have planned to pull this off?”
“The huge army of Satan’s foot soldiers that we hear outside the walls will be here soon enough. Once the people inside here are fully occupied, we will take the truck and drive it up alongside the eastern gate we do not use and set off the explosive there. Then when the gate is breached and the people you hate are then killed we will make our escape in a vehicle when the time is right.”
“Well that sounds fantastic the way you say it, but are you positive it will work? These fuckers have been most frustratingly hard to kill as you are well aware of.”
Lewis said with sarcasm.
“I am positive it will work,” Jonas said fervently.
Now tiring of Lewis’ whining he continued loudly, “There is no way they will discover what is happening until it is too late, because all is not what it seems…”
Behind him, the sudden sound of glass breaking caused Jonas to whip his head around in surprise. Someone had walked past the front of the truck as his heated emotions caused him to forget to make sure they were alone as they argued loudly.
Focusing on the broken bottles of beer that lay foaming on the ground, Jonas looked up to see the female that dropped them was Mattie…who was staring wide eye at him.
Her face was pale white with fear as the look of awful remembrance slowly filled her eyes…

********

Mattie was eagerly looking forward to seeing Mike. She was so distracted that she didn’t realize that someone was talking loudly until she passed the front of the truck and then heard a man say those words…
Those words…they ripped apart her mental barriers that she had unknowingly erected to protect her mind during that terrible night when Kettle had abducted her…
Those words…she had made herself unintentionally forget due to the mental trauma she had gone through…
And now of all places she again hears that same snarling hate filled voice. ‘Because all is not what it seems.’…
And now as she fully remembers who had set her up for kidnapping, she stares into the cold murderous eyes of the man who now also realizes she remembers…
Mattie pivoted to take off running; behind her a shouted curse and running footsteps followed her.
But as Mattie’s foot pushed off at a sprint, it lost traction in the now wet puddle of beer on the pavement.
Stumbling slightly Mattie regained her balance and sprinted full out, heading for the closest place of assistance near her.
A place with a pile of wood in need of splitting
A place with a large shaven head man who is wielding a large rusty ax
As Mattie neared the corner of the building, she just needed to round it to be in view of Mike; she was grabbed roughly by her left arm from behind and jerked her to a halt.
“Get back here you whore…” Jonas began to say.

Now Mattie was not your typical helpless female, she was a police officer and has had several classes on self-defense and combative training, many instructed by Mike himself who had been one of her department’s combative instructors. So when Jonas spun her around to face him, the last thing he had expected from the small woman was a right hook smack dab into his teeth…Mattie also remembered to follow up her advantage and continued to attack. Now that he was momentarily stunned, she tagged him with two more punches in the face and a kick to the side of Jonas’ left leg causing him to fall to the ground.

Grunting from the unexpected pain, Jonas lunged forward while on the ground and tripped up Mattie as she again turned to run off for help.
Mattie stumbled forward, her momentum too much to remain on her feet, fell to the ground and slid to a stop with a cry for help escaping from her lips. Jonas scrambled forward on hands and knees, grabbing her legs and trying to pull himself up along her body as she kicked and screamed at him.
Taking a few nasty kicks to the chest and face, Jonas snarled away the pain and managed finally to end up straddling her chest as she flailed at him with punches and kicks. Now with her somewhat restrained Jonas momentarily knocked her senseless with a solid punch to her head which opened a cut over her left eye. As Mattie went limp, bleeding and moaning; Jonas smiled wickedly and reached for his large razor sharp knife…

********

Taking a much needed break, I sink the ax into the stump we were using as a splitting platform and wiped the sweat from my eyes.
“I don’t know what is taking Mattie so long; she was supposed to bring us some drinks.” I say to Max who was finishing loading the newly split logs in the large neat pile we have made today.
“Tell you what Max, why don’t you run back to the chow hall and see if you can get us a couple water bottles. Just tell them I sent you, you shouldn’t have any problems.”
As Max ran off to get us some water, I was just about to put my jacket back on while I waited when I heard a shout for help ahead of me.
I began to jog ahead, thinking maybe it was another infected person rampaging we might have missed earlier.
As I ran towards the corner of the building what I see stops my heart momentarily.
I see Mattie’s form stumble from around the corner and fall to the ground with a small wiry man scrambling along her legs to get on top of her fallen body.
She was giving him a run for his money but he ultimately got the upper hand with a punch to her head.
He must have been very focused on her for he didn’t notice me until I hear him snarl something to her; and with that, the man raised a large sharp blade up into the air, preparing to stab her…

********

Jonas’ blood sang with victory as he yanked his blade free and held it up overhead, ready to plunge it into her chest.
“I should have done this long ago bitch!” He rasped.
As the knife began its downward motion, Jonas’ arm was suddenly grabbed in a vise like crushing grip.
Before Jonas realized that was a bad thing, something knocked the blade spinning from his much weaker grip. As his knife went tingling across the pavement Jonas was physically picked up into the air by that same arm and tossed aside like a child.
Skidding to a halt several feet away, Jonas lifted his bleeding face from the pavement where he had struck it, to stare at the large muscled man that Lewis detested.....
'Damn.... It's Mike...' Jonas thought. 'Not good!'
Mike was sweating heavily and it was causing steam to rise off of him while he stood over Mattie’s still groggy form on the ground. Mike's head slowly turned to face him and with eyes that would have frozen the most ruthless of killers locked onto his.
He visibly shook with rage as veins snaked across his bare arms and face.
With a roar of rage Mike rushed at Jonas.
And Jonas, who without even knowing it, began to urinate on himself…

********

I was barely able to reach the man with the knife before he could stab Mattie. Grabbing his arm I slammed my other hand against the flat of the knife blade, disarming him. Grunting with effort I lifted the much smaller man off her and tossed him aside to get him out of range of hurting her anymore. Now standing there panting, my eyes locked onto her beautiful face and my blood boils with rage at the sight of the cut above her eye.
Each drop of blood that pools from her cut and spills onto the ground sounds like a thunderclap and jars my very soul.

Slowly looking up, on the ground before me I see the man who would take from me all that I have left and hold dear in this shit hole of a world.
On the ground before me is the man who is going to die most painfully.
Fucking Zombies have nothing on me with the howl of rage that rips loose.
That the little man tried to get up to run just drove my rage even higher until I went berserk yet again.
'No gun needed.' Was my final thought. 'This fucker is going to get some hands on treatment.'

I pummeled and crushed the man in front of me. At some point I feel a sting in my left leg, but it is quickly forgotten with the red veil of rage that I am looking through. Sometime between the breaking of joints and slamming my fists repeatedly into the man’s unprotected face, a voice cuts through my rage like a knife.
The sound of crying douses my rage like water on a fire.
Standing up breathing heavily, I let go of the man’s shirt that I held causing his limp form to fall back to the ground.
Thick coagulating blood covers my fists and arms, and I can see a large bite mark on one of his arms.
Smacking my lips together I can taste the coppery blood that probably covers my mouth as well.
‘When the fuck did I do that?’ I wonder.
I can’t even tell who the man is, I apparently have crushed his face into a pulp and very little facial structure is left. Broken bones protruded at several points on his obviously lifeless body.

Then my arms were filled with the sobbing form of Mattie. The more I held her the more I began hurt, not mental hurt, real hurt. That little fucker must have worked me over while I was ‘temporarily insane’…and of course Mattie reminds me of the pain in my leg by bumping into the hilt of a knife jutting out from my left thigh…
Hoo-boy! Good stuff!
Holding her in a deep embrace, inhaling the smell of her hair I looked up finally to see Max standing not too far away with two water bottles with his mouth hanging wide open in shock.
Hawking up a glob of blood (not mine) filled spit; I held my hand out to Max. “A beer would be better but I will take one of those if you don’t mind.”

Together with Mattie and Max’s help we limp over to the medic trailer to stitch up my new wounds and remove this damn knife from my fucking leg. If it is true that chicks dig scars, I will soon be fucking irresistible…
While the nurse curses me for an idiot, I send Max off to find Stephen and Kleaner to report the incident. Sitting there watching Mattie get three stitches above her left eye, I think that she has never looked more beautiful…..

When Stephen walked into the trailer behind Max he sat down and listened to the story, both from mine and Mattie's point of view. Upon completion, he first informs me that Kleaner is taking care of the body. Then he takes a more serious tone.
"I only see one problem with this story guy's." Stephen says with a strait face.
"Oh yeah what's that?" Mattie and I both say at the same time.
After the shit we just went through, this better be good.
"Where the hell was your Glock Mattie?" Stephen says. He is nearly smiling now and I can see that he is again standing on his NRA, Second Amendment pulpit.
"I forgot it at the RV after I changed. I was only going to be gone a minute." Mattie replied meekly.
"We are all supposed to keep at least our handguns on us at all times. If not for the Zombies, than certainly for the five hundred plus people we have running around out here now." Stephen lectured. "We nearly had a full blown outbreak yesterday, and not for our armed people we might all be dead right now. If you would have had your gun on you like you should have, you could have put that asshole down and Mike would have been drinking that beer right now and not having a knife pulled out of his leg."
"Your right." Mattie said. "It won't happen again... I promise."
"I hope this teaches you a lesson." Stephen says while giving Mattie a big hug. "Armed citizens are much less likely to become victims. Well, that's enough lecturing. I'm going to go find Amber, and if she is not wearing her pistol right now she better be in the shower. And hopefully she is."
Stephen then walked out of the trailer to a roar of  laughter.  

********

With their destination finally in sight Matvei let out a sigh of relief. It had been a long couple of days and he was beginning to worry that they would not be able to make it. Joliet itself was on the outer rim of the Chicago land area and Matvei knew that it would soon be crawling with infected from the city if it wasn't already. It was a risk that he had to take. He now only had eight men with him thanks to an unfortunate accident just outside of Peoria Illinois when one of his vehicles had a roll over on the highway while trying to dodge a large group of infected. This made Matvei again curse his bad luck and he wondered if karma had finally caught up with him. This would be his final test on the matter.

Matvei was in his Dodge Ram which was the lead vehicle in the two vehicle convoy. He had Hector, Raul and a third trigger man with him in the truck while the five others rode in the panel van that also contained the last of their supplies. As Matvei followed the final direction to the warehouse he got a call over the 2-way radio to turn his truck radio to 1320 AM as the van had found a broadcast. Matvei had not had is radio on, figuring that all he would hear is static. What Matvei heard was informative and mostly bad news.

It appeared that a group of survivors was located nearby and had fortified themselves in an old prison. They had just engaged a large group of infected to the north and were now being laid siege by a massive group of infected that spilled out of the city and was now surrounding the prison. The broadcast was warning survivors that the entire area was about to be overrun.

As Matvei slowed the truck in front of the building and ordered the five men in the van to set up a small perimeter he had two major concerns. First that there appeared to be a massive number of infected converging on this location. And second, that if there had been an organized group operating in the area they may have discovered his cache. Matvei led the three men in his vehicle up to the fire escape that led to the roof and climbed up the ladder to the entrance he knew existed up top.

"CNEHR!" Matvei swore. Russian for shit. The building had been looted. As Matvei and the three others searched the rooms they found only empty pallets. Matvei was clearing a back room where the armory was supposed to be located when he was notified over his 2-way that Hector and Raul had located and secured some prisoners. Hurrying to the front room Matvei finds that two men, three women and a child are being held at gunpoint.
"What is going on?" Matvei asks.
"These people are part of the group that stole our shit!" Raul snarls.
The people are all on their knees and are clearly terrified. The men are both trembling and the women are all crying, along with the small boy who looks to Matvei to be maybe nine. A small pile of guns, including a nice looking PTR-91 that must have belonged to the survivors, was laying nearby along with several backpacks and sleeping bags. Surveying the room Matvei also sees that the people had gathered up some remaining supplies from the building and must have stayed the night.
"Let me explain." One of the men tells Matvei.

The man goes onto explain how they had been living in Bolingbrook and as the large horde of Zombies moved in they fled back to Joliet and took up residence at the prison. Their stay was short lived however as the leaders at the prison compound, Mike and Stephen warned that they were probably going to get surrounded and anyone that wanted to escape should do so now. This small group decided to take off and head for a relative of the other mans farm in Indiana. Pointing at the third women in line he also relates that she had been staying at the prison prior to the rest of them showing up and had been on a supply run to this building led by a man named Casper. She had stated that the building had been full of supplies and they had stopped by hoping to secure anything remaining for their trip.
"Lets kill them." Hector stated coldly. "They stole our supplies and now have left us as good as dead!"
"Not so fast." Matvei ordered. "They were just looking after themselves, the same as you would do."
"I don't believe it!" Hector said in a mocking tone. "Are you getting soft Matvei?"
A cold silence now filled the room, the only sound coming from the crying women who were now covering their faces.
"I'm going to take care of this right now Matvei, since you don't have the stomach for it." Raul stated.
"I Sai.." Matvei started to say before a blast from Raul's rifle shattered the skull of the woman who had shown the others the location of the warehouse.

‘I may have not wanted to kill these people.’ Matvei thought in an instant. ’But I am not soft and I have not lost any skills you fool.’
Before Raul could react Matvei drew his USP .45 and shot Raul twice in the chest, killing him instantly as one of the rounds pierced his heart. Matvei immediately turned as Hector was raising his rifle to engage and shot the mercenary right in the head with a single .45 slug. The third man was slower to react and seemed to hesitate, not sure who was going to be on the winning side and unwilling to choose. With the fight now over and Matvei the clear winner the man lowered his rifle. Matvei rewarded him with two shots to the chest. As the man lay there bleeding out and suffocating from a sucking chest wound, Matvei walked up to him.
“If you would have engaged Hector I knew I could have trusted you.” Matvei said while kicking the mans AK-74 away from his dying body.

“It is ok people.” Matvei said, trying to calm the others who were now crying over their fallen friend. “I will not harm you, but gather your things and get out of here, it is not safe.”
As the small group gathered their things Matvei’s radio cracked. “ Is everything ok? We heard some shots.”
“Everything is fine.” Matvei said back. “The others were attacked and killed but the situation is secure. Stand by.”
“Now move people.” Matvei urged the survivors. “Where are your vehicles?”
“That way.” One of the men said, pointing towards the rear of the building. “We parked out back last night.”
“Well get to your trucks and GO!” Matvei said. “I have given you a chance to live, now use it.”
Without saying a word the small group gathered their things and fled. Matvei went around and put head shots into Raul and the other man to add to his story that they had become infected. The shots echoed in the large empty warehouse.

With that finished Matvei fished his last cigarette from his pocket and lit it, reflecting on his next move. The silence was broken by the sound of gunfire outside and his radio came to life.
“Sir, you better get up here!” A frantic voice stated. “We got company!”
“EGATB MEHR!” Matvei said, grabbing his G36...“Fuck me!”

damn. that's good stuff bro.



only 1 chapter left right? looks like it's gonna be a big one

Great stuff. The op has skills that is for sure..............

Excellent as always!

Bravo

just fucking Bravo!!!!!1

What a great story!! Thank you for the time and effort you put into this!!

Just joined and found your novel  

GREAT WRITING IM HOOKED AND WAITING THE LAST CHAPTER.

Now i've got to get my zombie gear I'm not as prepared as I thought !



It's all for nothing if you don't have freedom. William Wallace:

There is no way you can finish this with one chapter left. I think you may have agreed to an extra 29 or so a few chapters back.

Thanks for the replies.
I finally got the proof read hard copy back today and was able to clean up a lot more errors and I re-posted the chapter.
Sorry for all the grammar mistakes.

Chapter 18 is coming together nicely!

Chapter 19- 38 also right????

Well... Let's make sure you like 18 first!

Yeah, Jonas's got his. The only thing that could of made that better, would to have a first person view of
Jonas get his ass beat. Great chapter

Very nice work. Been patiently waiting for the next chapter. Reading this reminds me what someone said about the inferior design but large number of Eastern Bloc tanks.

"Quantity has a quality all its own". Seems appropriate for this zombie tale!

8:28am Friday

It's looking like next Tuesday is going to be the day. Work schedule is pretty messed up until then, and I need time to finish it.

can't wait. this has been an amazing ride.
happy new year

Chapter Eighteen: Darkness Falls
November 24, 2011
Day 59

Thanksgiving Day. The first two things that come to mind is food and football. As I survey the field I have to admit that Stephen did have a good idea. The crowd seemed to be happy, enjoying the game that was serving as a much needed distraction to the outside world. We still had our guards on the wall, but the Zombie hoard waiting outside wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Beer was served along with hotdogs and hot chocolate to the hungry crowd who devoured it happily. It all started with Mattie who suggested a Thanksgiving feast to celebrate the holiday and the fact that we were still alive. Stephen had then mentioned that a football game might be a good idea as well. When the plans were mentioned around the prison, they were met with much enthusiasm. A playing field was set up running north/south, just to the east of the main RV park. It was a little smaller than regulation but it would do. Lines were painted, wooden goalposts erected and several small rows of makeshift bleachers were manufactured and set up. Stephen had arranged for two teams to be made, the Yankees and the Rebels. Blue and grey clothing was used along with the corresponding battle flags for the teams. Tryouts were held and both teams ended up with about 20 players and even managed to hold a few practices over the last few days. It all came together for quite a show.

The women in charge of cooking went to great lengths to prepare a feast for all after the late morning game was over. It was going to be served family style in the cafeteria following the game. There was no live turkeys available but three of our pigs were butchered for the occasion and that was added to several cases of DAK canned ham to round out the meal for the over 600 participants. There was plenty of canned potatoes, veggies, cranberries, stuffing and corn bread for everyone. And of course pumpkin pie for dessert. You could smell the food cooking even now from the sidelines.

Of course the feast was for after the game, which still had four seconds left. Dan was the lead referee and had held up four fingers, marking the time remaining. This was after Stephens last pass had gotten the Rebels, who were down 27-32, to about the Yankee 30 yard line. As coach of the Rebels I had just made an impressive show of arguing with Dan after a holding call he made on the prior play cost us ten yards. My antics, complete with arm flailing, drew quite a laugh from the audience. Dan of course was not amused and told me were to stick it. I now called my last timeout and walked to Stephen who was in the huddle, sucking wind and complaining of what he called a sore left shoulder after being slammed to the ground by a 250 pound angry black man at the end of the last play.
"Get the sand washed out of your vagina Stephen." I chided. "And get your head in the game. I've been shot and stabbed and you didn't hear me bitchin half this much.”
“All I said was it fucking hurt!” Stephen snapped, giving us all a dirty look. “I’ll be fine. If anyone wants to block that asshole, feel free. He has been on me all God damn game.”
“Does that account for your two interceptions?” One of his linemen asked.
“No.” Stephen answered in stride. “And not my three touchdowns either. Now what’s the play?”
Making eye contact with a wiry tall Hispanic kid who had good speed and had been getting open deep all day, I asked Stephen if he could get the ball to him in stride down the right sideline.
“Sure thing.” Stephen said. “Just give me a couple seconds to throw.”

Jogging to the sidelines I yelled to Dan. “Nice no-call on that last roughing the passer!” Dan’s response was to simply hold up his stump, which I think signified the bird.
Stephen broke the huddle and the fast kid went wide right. Now the entire crowd was on their feet cheering. It didn’t really matter to them who won.
At the snap Stephen ran a play action that nobody bought and then was forced to roll right due to backside pressure from that large angry black man. Stephen threw the ball just as Dan shot a flare into the air signaling that time had expired.

Watching the ball in the air I have to chuckle at the fact that despite all we have been through, I still care if the kid catches the pass. Turning back to Stephen I see that he has been flattened again by the pass rusher. Turning back to the play I see it was a well thrown pass to the back of the end zone. The receiver and two defenders go up for the ball and as they go down I was unable to see what happened.
I wait for the signal from Dan.....
Arms up.... It's a touchdown!      

Everyone takes to the field to congratulate one another on a game well played. The "Angry black man" even helps Stephen to his feet. He is then soon greeted by Amber who rewards him with a big hug and a kiss, and soon both are mobbed by the rest of the team. I finally make it over to Stephen and the others and offer my congratulations. As everyone finally settles down it is off to the cafeteria for Thanksgiving Dinner. A friendly wager had been made and the losing team had to pull guard duty on the towers to let the guards who missed the game eat first. As we head off to dinner I watch the Yankee team members head to their duty stations.

********

Once again Lewis was steaming mad. It has been a week since that nutcase Jonas was killed and again he was on his own. He cursed this fact, for as is usually the case when left to his own devices, Lewis was not faring too well. And the fact that Jonas has met an untimely and most brutal death wasn’t even the worst of it. The only safe place to hide was in the big bread truck that he drove into the prison. He was forced to share it along with a very large and most likely very powerful explosive that Jonas had assembled but never explained how to arm or deploy. And once again he had been forced to stand by and watch that asshole Mike kill an ally with his bare hands. But this time he did not even have a handgun to try and shoot him in the back with. So like a coward he was forced to stand quietly by and watched yet another murder by the man who killed his own brother!

After watching Mike stagger over to the medic’s trailer with assistance from Mattie and some scrawny kid; Lewis realized that there might be questions regarding his truck that Jonas was standing next to when Mattie saw him. Once he saw the three of them enter the medic trailer, Lewis quickly started up his truck and slowly moved it to another section of the prison yard and nervously waited out the next few days. Over those last few stressful days, Lewis had refused to come out of the truck during daylight hours for fear of discovery by someone who might recognize him. Only during the nighttime did he feel safe enough to risk it in order to scavenge food and drink from the prison cafeteria and briefly mingle with a few survivors. After it appeared that he was forgotten and things looked to be back to some sort of normalcy did Lewis move the truck back to near where he had originally parked it, an out of the way area near the administration building and several other parked vehicles.

Now as he watched the occupants of the prison play a fucking game of football of all things, he sat in the cold truck with only his simmering anger to keep him company. So here he was cold, hungry, tired, and angry at everyone outside laughing and carrying on as if there were not several hundred thousand Zombies outside the prison walls screaming for their blood.
“Laugh while you still can you assholes.” Lewis muttered as he watched Mike pass the football to a group of small kids. “We will see who is laughing when I piss on your cold dead corpse!”

Lewis quit looking at the football game as it began to disperse and looked out the driver’s side window over to where his other set of wheels was currently parked. Lewis had located an old Dodge Dakota truck that seemed to be ownerless and moved it near where the bread truck was parked. It had been reinforced with a steel brush guard, side rails and bumper by it's previous owner. He had managed to steal some supplies for it as well from the cafeteria. As luck would finally have it, there was an old pump shotgun and some shells in the cab as well. He remembered sweating profusely when he took the truck late at night, expecting someone to confront him the entire time he was moving it. But that was a few days ago and as of yet, nobody came over to take it back. Lewis figured that it must have belonged to someone who had not made it back alive from the battle up north. Which was good, for it was to be his escape vehicle for when he finally sets Jonas’ plan into motion.

Finally Lewis let his anger drive him to action. He knew he had delayed this long out of fear, but the longing for revenge finally spurred him to action. Looking back at the large compilation of containers and wires that made up the explosive, Lewis stared at it wondering, “Now how the fuck does this thing work?”

********

The cafeteria smells delicious as the pork and other dishes are served up. The room is as lively as it has ever been as everyone enjoys the meal and the company, for once being able to put aside the danger that lurks just outside the walls. At my table, shared by Stephen, Dan, Mattie, Amber, little Max and Kleaner, Mattie goes over how she has pretty much wrapped up the Logan investigation. She had searched Jonas's camper after his death and had located the Bushmaster ACR that belonged to Logan along with several hand written notes that indicated that Jonas had been a Kettle plant from the very beginning. Nothing in the camper indicated that Jonas had anyone else working with him inside the prison. Jonas did have a 2-way radio on his person when he was killed, and it was presumed that he had been in contact with someone outside of the prison prior to his death. Most likely a survivor from the Kettle compound. A thorough check of the administration building for any additional evidence also revealed an area on the top level that Jonas had been using. Blood located by a telescope near an open window led Mattie to believe that Logan must have discovered Jonas up there, perhaps talking to someone or running surveillance, and been killed to cover it up. Kleaner grew quite at the mention of Logan and Dan took it upon himself to cheer him up. Dragging him over to a table of shy Latino females who were all giggles and smiles over the pair, Dan was able to work through the language barrier with his universal charm.  

As dinner was winding down I decided to head back to the RV with Mattie and Max, both of whom looked like they could use a nap. So could I as a matter of fact. Stephen and Amber were whispering something about a referee outfit, and as they left Stephen said to swing by the command center in a couple hours. He wanted to go over some security concerns and try to get in touch with any one the HAM who might have news from the government safe zones on the east or west coasts. He also wanted to hand out some plates of food and pie to the losing teams players who were still on guard duty. Before heading back to the RV I ran up to the nearest tower, just to remind myself not to get complacent, and starred out at the massive Zombie army that had slowly been massing at the walls. Stretching as far as the eyes could see, it was certainly a sight to behold. A large churning sea of slowly rotting flesh and bones, howling at my very sight and trying in vain to reach up at me while others continually tried to batter down the massive stone walls that kept us alive. They were slowly shredding themselves in the process yet seemed oblivious to the fact.
"Not yet fuckers!" I say as I turn and walk away. "You won't get to us yet!"

********

Matvei finished cleaning his weapons for the second time today. He had all of his remaining .45 ammunition lined up neatly in front of him on the table as he slid the slide back on his USP. 45.
"Twelve rounds." Matvei said aloud as he rolled one of the cartridges along the table in front of him.
Finally loading them back into a magazine and seating it into place, Matvei holstered the large .45 and got up from the chair. His rifle was not much better off, as he only had 23 5.56 cartridges remaining. Picking the rifle up Matvei walked upstairs and onto the roof to have yet another look around. He could sometimes hear gunfire coming from what must have been the besieged prison, but today they were quiet. Today he only heard the wails of the infected which increased at the sight of him.

When the infected hit the building last week they hit fast and hard. When Matvei got outside to his men he found them heavily engaged with several hundred infected who had come out of the residential area to the east. They made an attempt at reaching the vehicles but were already cut off. Three of his men were killed when their AK74's ran dry while holding the perimeter, and they were overwhelmed by dozens of infected that tore in to them like ravaged wolves. They had bought Matvei enough time to grab his two bags from the truck and one of the mercenaries to grab their pack as well. The two other men then ran for the large steel door that Matvei had opened on his way out, while Matvei ran to the much closer fire escape ladder. As he climbed and kicked free a bony hand that had grasped onto his ankle, Matvei was able to watch in dismay as one of his two men was pounced on from behind as he entered the door and was unable to close it. He heard gunfire and screaming as he raced into the building and down to the main level. Several dozen infected had already entered through the doorway and it took most of his remaining ammunition to clear the building of all of the infected. It was nasty work, only made easier by the necessity of the task. Matvei had seated the last full magazine for his G36 and spent seven of the rounds on a few infected who had managed to hide in a back room. The four infected had caught him off guard and one even managed to knock Matvei to the ground before a 5.56mm round ended the fight with a red mist splattered on the wall.

Only after it was done did he realize that the last mercenary in his command had died while securing the door, and in doing so had stopped hundreds more from spilling in. It took most of the day for Matvei to drag the bodies to a back room and seal the door. Matvei went to great lengths to then make sure that the building was secure and he wouldn't find any nasty surprises. He also gathered the weapons and ammunition of his dead Mercenaries and set them aside. Taking stock of the supplies on hand he realized that he would not be able to last long. He had let the others take most of what was on hand. He had enough food and water for a couple weeks at most.

That was nearly a week ago and as Matvei stood on the roof he knew he was running out of options. His food was running low and he was on his last case of bottled water. The hoard of infected that blocked him in was even larger than before. Once, several days ago, Matvei had tried to escape to his truck which was parked out front. He used all of the 5.45 x 39 ammunition he had left for the AK-74's and tried to shoot his way through. It wasn't even close and Matvei had barely made it back to the fire escape alive. He looked down and saw his black Dodge Ram parked in the same spot, so close yet so far away. But Matvei knew now that even if he made it to his truck, the large mass of infected made it impossible for him to drive off. Matvei knew he needed a miracle, or he would die of thirst in this brick tomb.      

********

Looking at the kitchen timer again, Lewis finally thinks he has this contraption figured out.
“So I just punch in whatever time I want it to go off and that’s that?” He muttered to himself as he crouched next to the bomb.
“Seems simple enough.” He continued. “Now I just need to wait until the timing is just right and get this shit over with!”
Lewis cracked the rear door to ventilate the accumulated diesel/ chemical fumes that were making him light headed again.
“Phew…this shit stinks, I will be really glad to get out of this damned truck for the last time.” Standing by the cracked door Lewis fished his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and lit one up.
“I just hope I get to see the look of amazement on their ugly faces when I destroy their compound like they destroyed mine!” He growled.

As he finished up his smoke, Lewis made his way back to watch the crowd trickle out of the cafeteria as the party was winding down. A large portion of the party had dispersed and most that were left were mainly doing clean up chores. Most everyone would be fat and lazy at this point and Lewis realized the time to act was imminent. Crouching down next to his implement of destruction, he tried to warm his hands by blowing on them. He also began to think his happy thoughts again as he reached for the timer mechanism. ‘Soon I will be able to carry out my vengeance and then leave this cursed city once and for all and head to warmer climates…’

********

Stephen was on his way back from the Command Center after taking some plates loaded with food for Frank and Ed who were manning the radios there.
‘There is no sense in them going hungry; just because they have a holiday shift to pull.’ He thought. 'Now I just need to grab some more chow for the poor guys we beat who are working the guard towers.'

Stephen was in a good mood. The football game today was a hit with the folks as well as the large feast the cooks whipped up for Thanksgiving.
Entering the chow hall he rounded up some heaping plates of food for the players he had bested.
‘A full belly usually takes away some of the sting of defeat and makes everyone a little happier.’ He jokingly thought as he fixed the plates.
Finding some women who offered to help, Stephen sent them off to the various towers with the plates. Stephen himself grabbed two plates and headed for the guard tower located near the east gate of the prison which was not used for entry and had been fortified after their arrival. With a plate in each hand Stephen exited the cafeteria and rounded the building walking towards the guard tower.

That was when Stephen noticed a large bread truck type vehicle pull up and stop lengthwise in front of the eastern gates that were obviously not in use.
“That’s odd, why is that truck being parked right there?” Stephen wondered aloud.
Still walking from the cafeteria and towards truck, Stephen sees Kleaner turn the corner from the backside of the cafeteria and approach him. Just when Stephen was about to yell at Kleaner about the truck, he stopped. He watches as a short man exits the truck, throw something over the wall and run directly at him while looking over his shoulder back at the parked truck.
The man passed up Kleaner without seeing him and then turned to face the direction he was running…which was right at Stephen. The man suddenly noticed Stephen standing there holding two plates loaded with food and they both got a good look at one another.
Stephen’s eyes widened in recognition, “Lewis?!? What the fuck are you doing here?”
Lewis skidded to a stop a mere ten yards away with a terrified look on his face. “You can’t stop me this time asshole!” He swore at Stephen. “I will have my vengeance!”

Stephen dropped both plates of food uncaring to the ground and drew his M9 pistol. Lewis began to now run to the southern part of the yard, refusing Stephen’s command to stop. Stephen had warning sirens going off in his head and really disliked the little greasy politician at this point. He fired a single shot, taking Lewis in the back of his right thigh, which sent him tumbling to the ground with a cry of pain. Crawling on his knees, Lewis made it around the corner out of sight.

Kleaner had noticed the exchange of words and gunfire and came running up to him with his own pistol drawn.
“What the hell just happened, boss?” He asked.
“I don’t know, but I feel like we are soon to find out."  Stephen replied. "That whining fuck is Lewis. He was mixed up with Kettle somehow and Jonas must have got him inside before he died. I just saw him running from that truck parked across the eastern gates. I am afraid we have been way to lax on security.”
“I will go check it out boss.” Kleaner said. “You go secure the suspect while I handle the truck.”
Stephen nodded as Kleaner jogged back to the truck. running quickly to catch up to the wounded man, Stephen found Lewis on the ground and heard him giggling madly.
“It’s too late fuckers, I win!” Lewis cackled and made an exploding noise followed by more crazy laughter.
Stephen’s eyes widened in fear; realizing what the truck’s purpose was and ran back for Kleaner.
“Kleaner, get the hell away from the truck!” He screamed as he rounded the corner.
Up ahead, Kleaner, hearing his name shouted turned to face him.
Shouting back, Kleaner jogged towards Stephen, “What did you sa…”

Suddenly an immensely huge fireball erupted where the truck used to be. The ensuing shockwave slammed into Kleaner and tossed him into the air like he was hit by a train. Stephen fared somewhat better; he was partially protected from the blast by the corner of a building, but was still flattened by the blast. Coughing raggedly and severely dazed, Stephen sat up from where he fell…many yards distant from where he previously stood.

Checking to make sure he had all of his arms and legs Stephen slowly stood and brushed aside the debris that had landed on him. Franticly he stood and looked for Kleaner as well as that rat faced weasel Lewis. Smoke and debris obscured his vision and he was unable to do either from the ground. Staggering upright Stephen turned and faced the direction of the eastern gate, and what he saw made his asshole pucker tight.
For where once was a set of solid steel gates with huge stone walls to either side, now was a gaping hole several yards wide!

As Stephen stood staring in disbelief at what had just occurred, from the smoke and dust filled air, man shaped figures began to slowly emerge. And with the man shaped figures came the soul cringing screams and howls of the monstrous undead hoard that began to pour into the breach, unstoppable in its size and hunger…

********

The camper door slammed open and Dan stumbled outside with his grandpa’s .45 in his right hand; wearing only a scowl and his boxers.
Seeing the remnants of the huge fireball dissipating high in the sky made his scrotum shrivel even more than the cold air.
“Son of a bitch…girl get me my pants!” Dan yelled to the very naked Hispanic female who stood gaping at the destruction from the doorway of the camper. After a few seconds and seeing that the woman did not move, Dan began cursing again at the lack of her understanding of the English language…
As he struggled to put on his pants with one hand, she had begun to yell at him in Spanish…something about her sisters.
“Fine!”  He said. “Go find them and meet back at the plow truck.”
Dan didn’t know if she understood or not, he really didn’t care at the moment.

Jogging to the obvious source of the explosion, Dan came across a survivor. Slowing down to check on the subject he saw it was Kleaner. He bent down to help him sit up. The man was obviously stunned and sorely injured from the blast. Kleaner looked over to the right and saw his boot had been knocked off his foot and was sitting next to him. Reaching over he began to put the boot on and kept wincing in pain. Dan looked closely at Kleaner’s boot and winced himself. Kleaner was trying to put on his boot alright, except his foot was still inside it. It had been amputated about six inches above the top of the boot!

Now to make matters worse, several Zombies stumbled around the corner and made their stumbling way to them. Dan stood and quickly dispatched them each with precise head shots. Now as the pistol’s slide locked back he quickly reloaded, as quickly as a one handed reload can get!
Granting them a few moments of time, Dan whipped his belt free from his pants and franticly applied it as a makeshift tourniquet to Kleaner’s leg injury.
“Come on buddy.” He said to Kleaner as he tightened down the belt. “We got to get the fuck out of here!”
With that said, Dan handed Kleaner his boot and got an arm around him, hoisting Kleaner upright as he watched Zombies pour in from the north.
Seeing that he was now cut off from getting to the plow truck, Dan swore again. “Shit, this just keeps getting better!”

Knowing that time was short and the prison evacuation plan would be now under way; Dan made his way to the west, hoping to come across a vehicle they could use to escape in. Up ahead, partially obscured by smoke and settling dust sat a beat up looking Dodge Dakota. Picking up his pace, Dan dragged his drinking buddy towards it as behind him the howls of the undead began to be mixed with the screams of the living…

********

Inside the man castle on wheels which is my luxury RV bus, I am looking at Max who is sleeping peacefully on the couch.
“He looks happy.” Mattie says from my side.
Putting my arm around her I pull her close. “Yea, I just wished there was more I could do for others as well. So many have lost entire families and loved ones to these damned Zombies. It just isn’t fair!”
“I think he likes you though Mike.” She replied. “He looks at you like you were his father.”
“I hope not…he said his dad tried to eat him.” I said chuckling.
Mattie hits me playfully on the arm, “You know what I mean, silly!”
“I know and that’s what scares me. Do we keep him?’ I asked.
“What is he a dog now?” Mattie aid scowling. “What do you mean ‘do we keep him’?”
“What I mean is can we take on that responsibility of caring for him?” I asked sincerely.
“What do you think we should do?” She asked quietly.
“If Max wants to be with us, I would think that with all the horror this little guy has been through, if I can help with being his new family I would like that.”
Mattie turned me to face her and buried her face into my chest in a big hug. “That’s about the most wonderful news I have heard in months.” She said.
“About the most wonderful…what is the most wonderful?” I asked.
“Well it was going to be a surprise.” She said hesitantly. “But I guess now is a good time to tell you.”
I just stared at her dumbly.
“Mike, I am…”

The RV picked that precise time to have its driver side windows blown out from the massive shockwave of the ear deafening explosion that followed a micro second later…
Luckily I had my back to the window and in doing so shielded Mattie from any harm from the flying glass that pelted my back.
“What the fuck was that?” I yelled.
Max started crying also, confused after being woken up from a peaceful sleep to being covered in broken glass.

As the big RV gently rocked from side to side, I looked out the shattered windows at the raging fireball racing skyward and then back to the source of the explosion, where our eastern gate used to be. I also instantly knew what this meant for all of us.
“Fuck me…” Mattie said staring at what I also saw.
My head swiveled to look at her.
“Hey that’s my line…” I said. “Get Max and your sweet ass to the plow truck now! This isn’t good and it looks like the wall is breached. We are going to probably have to make a break for it.”
Making sure she understood what I was saying I continued, “Get it started and be ready!”

I took a minute to grab my AR-15 and put on my tactical vest which held six spare magazines, then scrambled from the RV heading to the source of the explosion. Along the way I join dozens of others that I recognize from the platoons we put together, also running towards the blast with weapons drawn. Ahead I can see a huge cloud of smoke and dust clearing from the area of where the eastern gate is…or I should say was. For as I jogged towards it and the dust and smoke cleared I could clearly see a several yard gaping hole where it used to be.

A disoriented subject is making his way towards me with a shit load of figures not far behind him. He stops and empties a pistol into the distant mob. As he neared I can see the man was Stephen. He was covered in dust and fragments of rock stuck in his hair and clothing.
“Stephen, what the fuck just happened?” I yelled as he neared.
Stephen didn’t seem to hear me so I grabbed him by the arm as he stumbled passed.
Stephen jerked from my grasp as if he was surprised to see me.
“What…oh it’s you. We got big problems Mike!” He shouted. “We have a huge hole in the wall!”
Looking at him closely I could see he was holding his ears, most likely somewhat deaf due to the noise and shockwave from the blast. My eyes drifted back to the breach wall, shambling forms of the undead were streaming into the prison yard unopposed.
“Get back to the plow truck and get ready to evacuate!” I yelled at him and gave him a shove back towards our mini compound.
Stephen stumbled away and I turned to the rest of our platoons that had stopped along with me, now awaiting orders.
“Okay folks, we need to hold these bastards down for as long as possible so the rest of our people can get to their evacuation vehicles.” I yelled while racking a round into my M4. “I want a skirmish line across the front with a secondary line behind them. We will fire two full magazines then rotate and the secondary line will fire two full magazines. After that we will begin a fighting retreat to our vehicles and make our escape. Once we leave these walls everyone is on their own as you all know. I hope to see you folks again and it has been an honor to fight alongside each of you warriors.”

Behind me I could hear the snarls and howls of the undead getting closer.
“Now let’s give these smelly fuckers a one way ticket to hell!” I shouted, while looking each of them in the eyes.
Turning back I raised my rifle and placed the reticle of the Trijicon Reflex scope on the skull of a bloated howling figure and squeezed the trigger.
A reddish brown mist sprayed out of the rear of its skull and it dropped in its tracks. Swinging the barrel minutely to the side I squeezed the trigger again dropping a female Zombie missing the lower part of her jaw…now she was missing most of the back of her skull as well.
Around me, my guys and gals opened up with their gunfire, tearing into the ranks of undead with a wall of hot lead.

The front lines of the infected folded and went down and stayed down for the most part. These were not shots fired in panic but the steady trained firing of now professional Zombie slayers. Quickly the bolt of my rifle locked back and I rapidly reloaded as well as others around me. Again I quickly but precisely chose my rotting victims and put them down.
But we still were forced to give up ground. The sheer pressure of the Zombies to the rear shoved passed the fallen, presenting their ugly faces to our skirmish lines as if daring us to take them out.

When my bolt locked back again, I dropped my now empty magazine and slammed home a third. Dropping back for the secondary ranks to move forward to engage the enemy, I take the time to appraise how the non-fighters are doing with the evacuation plans. All around me, people ran here and there carrying gear and supplies to vehicles and throwing them inside them climbing aboard. Seeing that at least that part of the plan is going along well, I turned back to my guys holding off the undead. Many are now on their second magazine, some even are done with their second, and are patiently waiting for their comrades to finish, even now refusing to leave them behind.
“Okay men, fire at will!” I shouted. “And get your ass’s to your vehicles as quickly and as organized as possible. Pray to whatever God you follow, we are gonna need it! Godspeed bitches!”
With that everyone opened up again in unison. Nearly a hundred AR-15’s, AK-74’s and 47’s buying us all precious seconds.

********

Stephen had made his way back to his RV and found Amber, although not in the sexy referee outfit,  was already locked, loaded and ready to go.
“Oh my God!” She cried. “You're ok! I was getting so worried!”
“I’m glad to see you too!” Stephen responded. “I'm fine. Now we gotta get the hell out of here. Grab Buddy and get to the plow truck. We have to hold here until Mike gets back. I need to grab a few things and will be right behind you.”
As Amber heads towards the truck with Buddy in tow, Stephen grabs his Bushmaster AR-15 carbine and checks the chamber. Finding it loaded he slips on his ACU tactical vest, slings the carbine and grabs his 20” DPMS as well. He also grabs a black range bag which contains his two .45’s, the SIG 220 and 1911, along with their spare magazines. Stephen is thankful that he does not have to grab much else, as the plow truck has already been loaded as a BOV. The truck was to serve that purpose for Mike and himself, along with Mattie, Amber, Dan, Kleaner and now little Max. He takes a second to look around his several hundred thousand dollar RV he has called home and then races out the door.

Stephen can still hear the rapid fire of the men as they try and hold back the onslaught while he throws his bag and extra rifle into the back of the truck. Amber is already in the bed with Buddy and has her rifle at the ready. Stephen also notices that Mattie has Max safely in the cab and has her rifle as well and is standing near the driver door. Taking a second to make sure he has a fresh magazine in the M9, he places it back in the Safariland drop holster. He next pulls a left handed drop holster from his bag and places the loaded S&W 1911 into it. He also quickly loads fresh Beretta  magazines into his belt and places several loaded 1911 magazines into the pouches on his vest.
“Ok Girls.” Stephen says calmly amidst the sounds of battle. “My perimeter around our RV’s should allow us to concentrate on the front opening here by the truck. We need to keep it clear so Mike and the others can get to us.”
Stephen sees that Zombies are already slipping past the retreating guards and raises his suppressed carbine, setting a fine example by downing three approaching Zombies in quick fashion. Soon Amber and Mattie are both firing as well.

Before long three panicked looking Hispanic women run up to the truck screaming. They do not appear to be hurt and Stephen quickly decides that they do have the extra room.
“Hey Mattie.” Stephen yells down to Mattie, who speaks fluent Spanish. “Tell them to come to the back of the truck.”
When they do Amber quickly helps them aboard. Stephen takes a second to look around and see’s that the entire prison yard is flooding with Zombies and they will soon overrun their small inner perimeter. Finally he see’s Mike running up on foot.
“Mattie.” Stephen yells. “In the truck now, it’s time to go.”
As Mike get’s closer Stephen hears him yell. “Are Dan and Kleaner hear?”
“Negative.” Stephen replies.
“Shit.” Stephen hears him say. “We are out of time, we have to leave now!”          

********

Lewis clawed himself back to consciousness with great difficulty. Finally he was able to raise his head and noticed a large portion of a nearby wall had collapsed on him, covering him painfully with bricks and mortar. Slowly he gradually worked his way out from under the fallen objects that lay on his chest. As the bricks fell into the depression he left, Lewis was amazed that not only was he alive, it appeared nothing was broken…save for the throbbing bullet wound to his right thigh.
‘I am going to have to bandage that pretty soon or I will be in trouble.’ He thought. ‘Good thing I put a small med-kit inside my escape truck’
Slowly he stood; gingerly putting weight on his bad leg, Lewis saw the devastation brought on by Jonas’ fertilizer bomb.
“Holy shit…I did it!” Lewis gasped.
Lewis began to laugh loudly after finally doing something right and pumped his fists in the air.

That was when he saw ahead a huge number of Zombies moving from right to left in front of him about twenty yards away, followed by hundreds of gunshots. As he watched row after row of disgusting Zombies die their final death, Lewis’s pain and victory fogged brain finally got the idea he should get the hell away from the nearby danger ahead. Spinning around, he quickly limped away, whimpering in pain. All too soon Lewis realized he could no longer hear any gunfire; that the only sound he heard was the labored breaths and cries of pain from his ragged throat. As Lewis rounded the corner of a building, he could see his get-away truck parked up ahead still in the same spot he left it. A growling sound from behind made Lewis look over his shoulder. He wished he did not, for behind him were several dozen Zombies in hot pursuit of him, most likely smelling the blood that poured from his leg injury…

Nearing the truck, Lewis gauged that he would easily beat the Zombie pursuers to it and was just about to sigh in relief when his truck abruptly started up and began to pull off!
“Hey that is my truck, wait!” He screamed and limped to cut off the truck.
Whoever was driving must have heard him because it suddenly stopped. As Lewis sighed in relief he limped quickly to the passenger door which was nearest to him. When Lewis went to grab the door handle he suddenly heard the door locks engage. Pulling franticly on the door handle he screamed for the driver to unlock it. The passenger window slid partially open and from inside he heard a voice growl out a question.
“This is the mother fucker that set off the explosion?” The man growled. “Are you sure?”
Lewis bent to look into the vehicle interior and his blood ran cold at who he saw inside. In the driver seat sat the very angry scowling figure of Dan with a very pale subject he recognized as Jeff Kleaner in the passenger seat.
Kleaner croaked weakly. “Yeah, I saw him get out of the vehicle right before it exploded.”
And with that Kleaner passed out.

Dan looked from Kleaner then back to Lewis. “If I wasn’t in a hurry I would beat you to death with my stump you fucking asshole.”
When Lewis attempted to say something Dan continued. “But since you will be entertaining company shortly, I'm sure you will not miss my gentle touch jackass.”
Dan then slammed his foot on the accelerator and sped off.
“You can’t leave me here!” Lewis screamed as he chased the receding truck, but his limp began to get much worse.
Stumbling to a stop he gasped, “I will die if you leave me behind…”
Tears of despair and frustration filled his eyes…along with tears of pain as he was grabbed roughly from behind and jagged teeth burrowed into his neck. Screaming with the sudden pain, Lewis jerked free, leaving behind a sizable chunk of meat which the Zombie quickly chewed and then swallowed. Adrenaline blasted into his veins as Lewis franticly hobbled away towards the only safety he could see in the area to run to. Ahead of him sat the medical trailer as if it was an island of refuge in a sea of undead.

Quickly as he could Lewis moved to the door, and ripped it open. Throwing himself inside, Lewis hurriedly slammed the door shut. Sliding to the floor with the slight moment of safety, he tried to take stock of his injuries. The leg wounds still bled freely from both enter and exit wounds. Reaching up gingerly he could feel the nasty neck bite wound bleeding profusely as incredible waves of pain began to radiate from it. Scrambling over to the medical supplies, Lewis managed to locate some bandages as his hands began to tremble. He put a pressure bandage around his thigh, and then made the attempt to staunch the flow of blood from his neck by holding a gauze pad on it.
“Shit, these wounds are going to need stitches…”
Shaking from pain and blood loss, it took a few minutes to realize he had been bitten!
“Oh sweet merciful God…” He gasped aloud.
Outside the trailer, countless hands beat upon the thin walls and door of the trailer.
“You mother fuckers bit me!” He screamed.
Anger quickly turned to sorrow as he slowly sank into a chair and cried into his hands. Within minutes the sorrow switched back to anger…and it was intense. As the howling outside seemed to match with the throbbing pain of his neck wound, Lewis’ began to sweat profusely. His anger soared as he thought of that bastard Stephen who had shot him, Dan who left him to die, and that asshole Mike who unwittingly survived every attempt on his life. Most of all Lewis raged at the thought of dying here trapped like a dog while those he hated with all his fiber escaped!
If only he could think straight…
If only he could focus on a way out of here…

The trailer began to rock and the door started to fracture due to the large amount of undead now battering the structure. All the commotion was making it impossible to think…and now his mouth was dry. So parched was his mouth it was all that mattered to find something to drink…
Shaking with need Lewis located a water bottle and gulped it down.
Pain wracked his guts…God the pain was horrible! And his thirst was now accompanied by throbbing; agonizing hunger! Falling to the trailer floor, Lewis screamed in pain from overwhelming thirst and hunger. Delirious with what was happening to him physically Lewis also began to hallucinate slightly from an extremely high fever…
‘Strange…the room is shaking…’ He thought as he unknowingly began to convulse in a huge seizure.

A slight motion to the back of the trailer made him move his head. From the rear of the trailer emerged the large chested nurse that was inside when the blast had gone off. She had obviously been hiding, and now came out terrified when he began crying out in pain…
She smelled divine…
Lewis struggled for air, reaching out his right hand; finally managing to gasp, “H-he-help me!”
The woman looked nervously, eyes wide with fear, at the door that began to bend from the repeated blows of the Zombies outside and edged closer to Lewis who obviously needed medical attention…
And so she was quite surprised when the feeble looking injured man grabbed her, as she crouched down next to him, with terrible strength and drew her into an embrace while sinking his teeth into her jugular…
By the time his fellow undead battered the door aside, Lewis was well on his way of trying to quench his insatiable hunger and thirst with the still steaming fresh innards of the poor woman who continued to kick weakly…

********

Breathing hard I scrambled to the driver’s seat of the huge truck. Climbing aboard I can see Mattie and Max are already inside the cab. Stephen, who looks like he is ready for a one man war with all the firearms bristling on his person.
“We are good to go, Minus Dan and Kleaner!” Stephen yelled. “I hope they found other arrangements. And they know the rendezvous point. We got some other folks in the bed of the truck as well, that couldn’t make it to their evacuation points.”
“You all better hang on to something, this is going to be a fucking rough ride!” I yelled back as I slammed the truck into gear.

Stephen shouted for everyone in the back to hunker down as the gates began to inch their way open. The rest of the survivors who managed to make it to vehicles began to pull in behind me as the plow truck ramped up some serious speed. Timing our arrival at the gates compared to speed at which they opened almost perfectly I screamed at Stephen to trigger the I.E.D’s. Stephen scrambled to locate the detonator as the truck sped at the mass of undead now pouring through the opening western gate. I hoped that the blasting wires were still intact. My question was answered when blasting out in simultaneous sequence, our exploding propane tanks carved a large blood soaked line through the thick mass of Zombies outside the gates. Luckily as well, the breach on the east side of the prison had already drawn many thousands of the Zombies away.

As fireballs raced skywards from the exploding propane tanks and body parts were sent every which way, my V-plow truck slammed into the remnants still in my path. The first initial several dozen I couldn’t even feel through the steering wheel, but after we were past the end of our propane trap the Zombies were thicker in presence…much thicker.
So much that I actually had to downshift to keep up speed. The V-plow worked beautifully, but never as the inventers imagined in their wildest dreams…

The plow slammed into bodies and flung them up and off to the left and right side of the truck just as if these disgusting rotting bodies was a snow packed road getting cleared. Max was screaming along with Mattie as several Zombie corpses and body parts fell onto the hood and windshield of the truck. One even managed to hang onto the hood at the base of the windshield and start to punch the glass, even though the entire lower half of the disgusting fucker was missing from the impact of the plow blade. I couldn’t take the time to try and shake it off as the huge dump truck wasn’t very maneuverable while cutting a path of escape through the massive undead force. But the problem was taken care of by Stephen, who reached over the cab of the truck and Fired a single round from his M9 into the Zombies head and then gave the roof of the cab a reassuring slap with his hand. Soon I could also hear the two suppressed AR-15s of Stephen and Amber going to work as well. They were music to my ears.

Finally we seemed to be nearing the back edges of the immense undead host, but that is just the ones who made it to the prison. The road beyond them was still packed with many hundreds maybe even thousands more making their slow methodical journey to our doomed base. Glancing quickly in my rearview mirror, I see that we still have several vehicles in our convoy. I just hope that Dan and Kleaner along with most of our other people make it to safety and got out of  the prison before it is was too late…

********

The old Dodge Dakota rocked from the severe impacts as it rammed into the unmoving forms trying to get at Dan and his passenger Kleaner, who was currently passed out next to him. Dan was glad he was able to wrap his belt around Kleaner’s leg where his foot had been amputated or else he would probably have bled out by now. As it was, his unconscious passenger was absolutely zero help as he frantically maneuvered the battered truck through and around the quickly closing in groups of undead.
He was pretty sure he was the last vehicle to attempt to leave, and as a result was barely able to make it out the prison gates. The Zombies were swarming worse than welfare recipients at a housing voucher sign up promotion.
Steam began to geyser from under the crumpled hood, from an obvious ruptured radiator or hose.

Up ahead he could see a massive mound of Zombies swarming over several vehicles that apparently had wrecked upon exiting the prison. The smell of fresh meat and blood was sending the nearby Zombies into a killing frenzy as they fought one another to get a taste.
“Son of a bitch, the entire roadway is blocked by this mess!” He swore.
Dan’s adrenaline was amped up, making everything appear in slow motion. To the west were the railroad tracks that ran north and south; that cut through the east side of Joliet. Dan remembered, that with a lot of luck and prayer, if he could make it to the other side of the tracks, that the Ruby Street Bridge was very close and hopefully a way out of this death trap.
Gunning the engine, Dan steered the shuddering pickup through several dozen more Zombies as he cut across the landscape towards the railroad tracks where the Zombie presence was much lighter.

Smashing into the few remaining stinking undead corpses in his path, Dan’s truck then hit the first sets of tracks. The poor truck jerked as if it struck a tree. Up and over the first set of rails it rocked, then as it hit the second set of rails the truck lurched to a stop.
“Oh fuck, this is not good.” Dan cursed as he saw that also the engine temperature gauge was now edging into the red.
Slamming the truck into reverse, Dan gunned the engine to back up off the rail. With much screeching of tortured metal the truck moved back a few feet. When Dan put the truck back into drive, his driver side door window exploded...

Ducking to the side as glass showered him; he evaded the clutching hands of a rotting corpse grabbing at him. Unable to draw his pistol as he was leaning over on it, Dan frantically looked for something to distract the Zombie with. Not seeing any weapons, his heart fell; until his eyes latched onto an object on the floor board in front of him.
Kleaner’s still bloody amputated right foot!
“Sorry buddy.” Dan grunted. “But I need this more than you do right now!”
Quickly grabbing it, Dan sat up and shoved the bloody meat into the clacking teeth of the creature. The Zombie bit down on the sudden morsel and quickly forgot about Dan, instead munching on the fresh meal. Seeing his attacker occupied momentarily, Dan stomped hard on the accelerator and screamed curses at the truck. He whooped in joy when it popped loose with a shower of gravel and now missing half the exhaust, judging by the increased engine noise.

Looking in the rear view mirror Dan could see several hundred or possibly thousands of Zombies in pursuit behind him. Up ahead loomed the large steel drawbridge, and as he drew near he cursed yet again. There was still a steady stream of Zombies making their way east over the bridge!
And to make a bad situation worse, his truck was shuddering and shaking as it was way beyond the overheating stage…
Not seeing any other option, Dan gunned the truck towards the bridge, hoping to at least get to the other side. But that was not to happen; just before the top of the bridge the engine locked up tight and the truck screeched to a halt; skidding to a stop at the peak. Dan didn’t pause a second, throwing open the door, exiting the disabled vehicle and began emptying his pistol at all the nearby undead now heading at him. He needed to buy a few seconds to think.

Downing all the nearby threats, Dan looked at the west side end of the bridge and his blood ran cold. At the bottom there was a bottleneck where probably several thousand undead were clawing and shoving trying to get through to get at him. Turning to look back where he came from wasn’t any better; for there were several hundred others closing off the east end of the bridge.
The noose was set, and now it was closing fast…
Dan reached inside and grabbed Kleaner and with a heave dragged his unconscious form across the driver’s seat and out onto the bridge surface. With their doom closing in Dan hurriedly began to drag Kleaner to the bridge pedestrian walkway. Shoving his limp body over the steel girder support frame and onto the walkway, Dan scrambled across as well.
“Sorry bro, but I don’t see any other way off this bridge.” Dan said softly to Kleaner.
And with that he scooped Kleaner up and heaved him over the railing into the dark waters below.
Not wasting any time, as it was quickly running out, Dan threw his legs over the railing and with the clawing fingers of undead scratching at his back, Dan leaped far out into air and made a most spectacular splash as he belly flopped into the frigid water below…

Surfacing, Dan knew he only had a few minutes in this cold water to act. He found Kleaner floating face up nearby and struggled to reach him. On the west bank of the river, about a hundred yards down stream Dan spotted a couple house boats that were parked next to a retaining wall. The river never froze over due to the swift current and the boats were usually there year round. Dan used the current to his advantage and slammed into the back of the first boat and struggled to get himself and Kleaner out of the water before they both froze to death.  

********

“This is not looking good Frank.” Eddie said looking out the second story window of the Command Center. “They are hounding us worse than my ex-wife’s divorce lawyers, and I am guessing they don’t want child support money.”
Frank cursed over at the Ham radio console, trying to reach anybody for assistance. However judging by the garbled screams coming across the radio, help was not going to come any time soon. Everyone was in full flight mode, and help was not coming. Of that he was now certain.
“The way they are stacked up deep outside the door, it will not be long before they make it inside.” Eddie said grimly.
“Boy, aren’t you just full of good news today?” Frank replied.
Both men chuckled dryly at his sarcasm.
“Well we can at least make them work for their meals eh?” Frank said.
“I hear you friend." Eddie said as he pulled and checked the rounds inside his 1911 magazine. "Let’s see how they like a little hot lead for an appetizer?”
“Man I wish I had a shot of Whiskey…” Frank grunted while loading fresh shells into his Remington 870 before checking his Glock 17.
Downstairs, the howls of the Zombies increased and so did the repeated blows against the outside door…

********

The politician and councilman formerly known as Lewis stood up from feeding on the mangled corpse of the nurse. Nothing but bones remained; and even those were now noisily being cracked open to reach the sweet tender marrow inside by several others just like Him. He turned and exited the trailer and walked against the tide of the countless others trying to get into the trailer. He screamed in anger at those before Him as they screamed back in return. The relentless, mindless search for food.
Even though He could still taste the rich blood on His lips, He needed more; His hunger has not diminished in the slightest.

Many times now He almost made it to several places where others like Him feasted on mouthwatering sustenance. Each time He howled in rage when it was consumed before He could get some for Himself.
He suddenly caught a scent of more food nearby…turning to face where that most succulent odor came from, He lurched forward.
He must have more!
He clawed at those in His way, howling His anger at those who would slow His progress.
Reaching a small structure He shoved and clawed His way to the front and added His new found strength to breaching the barricaded door. With the combined might of dozens of others as hungry and hate filled as He was, the wooden door began to splinter from the repeated blows…
Soon, the portal was torn asunder and He was among the first to gain entry into the building, snarling His ravenous hate.
Smelling the sweet meat above Him, He located the stairwell and began to climb…
The need for more food made Him moan and howl as He neared the source of the delicious smelling morsels.

Nearing the top of the stairs, His mouth began to drool in anticipation of the feast ahead. Lines of thick bloody spit hung from His open howling mouth as He entered the room. Standing in the far corner before Him was His meal. Behind Him; His brothers scrambled to beat Him to His food.
Roaring with anger, He lurched forward to claim His reward first, when the living meals before Him raised small objects.
The shiny chrome object that was pointed at Him had a large opening on the end facing His chest. Both of the food things began to scream at Him, which made His anger soar.

The shiny objects barked and bit louder than Him and His brothers all put together. His torso jerked backwards several times as some unknown force shoved Him. Many of His brothers snapped backwards and fell away from the noisy delicious smelling meal. Continuing forward and opening His blood covered mouth; He roared his undying hunger again wishing to sink His bloody teeth into His screaming prey. The meal directly in front of Him with the object raised it one more time at His howling face.
The last thing the poor creature formerly known as Lewis saw was the bright flash that came from the muzzle of the large Colt 1911 .45 that was pointed inches from His forehead….

Similar scenes played out all over the prison as those that couldn't escape became trapped in several buildings and small campers. Even barricading the doors was unable to stop the combined weight. The door to the cafeteria was breached and most of the kitchen staff died as their shotguns ran dry. Some elected to kill themselves while others did not. Screams of terror and gun shots filled the air. In a panic a survivor failed to properly close the door to the church and a large group of refugee's from Bolingbrook were torn to shreds while in prayer in front of the alter.

In the RV park a small perimeter held around a group of campers that were hastily assembled in a circle, similar to a wagon train in a old western movie. At least twenty people were firing and held their ground for a several minutes. But as the population of Zombies in the prison yard swelled, their fate was sealed. Just like Custer at the Little Bighorn, there were many more Zombies than they had bullets. As ammunition ran low the fighting became hand to hand and the survivors eventually died together; as a mass of humanity thrown into a sea of death.    

A few survivors managed to make it into the cell blocks and locked themselves into cells. Zombies screamed at them, just out of reach from behind the bars. But with little food and water, the survivors would soon have some tough decisions to make. As darkness fell on the prison the battle was over. Humanity had lost and the lights were not coming back on.  

********

Mattie had the radio in the plow truck set to 1320AM and listened in horror to a live broadcast of the radio station being breached. The sounds of screams and gunshots filled the cab as tears streamed down her face. Reaching down I gently turned off the radio and gave Mattie a squeeze on the shoulder before being forced to again grab the wheel and rev the engine in order to break through another wall of Zombies that blocked our escape.

The huge diesel engine finally revved down to a normal level as I slowed down for the turn west bound onto Cass Street. There were several other roads we could have taken to cross the river, however every single road west so far was filled as far as the eye could see. They were all still heading towards the prison in search of food. It now seemed the streets farther to the south held a lighter number of Zombies walking in the roadway.
"I hope that this road is passable." I tell Mattie. "We are quickly running out of bridges across the river."
"We need to cross Mike." Mattie pleaded. "Please get us across."

Stephen was banging on the roof of the cab while looking behind us as we turned. He was cursing like a sailor who was arriving at port with no money for female company.
“Shit, shit, shit shit!” He yelled. “We have lost everyone that had followed us out of the prison!”
“All of them?” I asked, surprised at what he said.
“All of them.” He said. “Someone close behind us must have stalled in the road and the rest got blocked and swarmed…”
“Not much we can do bro!" I yelled above the racket. "We can’t go back for anyone. They knew the risks…”
‘I know.” Stephen replied angrily. “It’s just we have been getting our ass kicked way too much lately, and it is really pissing me off!”
“Don’t worry!" I responded. "I am sure you will get your chance to smoke some more of these fuckers before too long.”

Now heading westbound Cass Street I can see this was a good choice. As of now we still have several dozen Zombies in the roadway but nothing that will slow us down in this huge truck…or so I hope. Slamming into a few Zombies in the roadway we cross underneath the railroad viaduct and head into the downtown area. When we crested the small hill, we got a good look of the downtown area. It was relatively clear except near the Cass Street Bridge, where there was thousands spilling over into the east side of town and heading north where we came from.
“Don’t even try it Mike.” Stephen yelled. “Take Ottawa Street south and try for the McDonough Street Bridge…hopefully the hoard hasn’t migrated that far south yet.”
Grunting, I cranked the steering wheel hard and took out an abandoned car in a shower of shredded car parts as the huge truck made a wide left turn and continued south bound Ottawa Street.

Passing the Will County Courthouse along the way, I tried to make light of our situation by pointing out a few wandering undead and saying I recognized a few of our more popular homeless vagrants in the crowd. Mattie was still crying and didn't even acknowledge the joke. The road ahead dipped down to pass under another set of railroad tracks, so I opened up the throttle. As the truck picked up speed and we passed under the train viaduct, I was glad for the extra momentum. For what we could not previously see was yet another monstrous sized undead host clogging the roadway outside the Will County Jail. But it appeared they were more focused on the warehouses across the road rather than the jail itself.
"Hang on back there!" Was all I could get out.
I only had seconds until the first ranks were disintegrated by the sheer weight and inertia of the huge V-plow dump truck. I temporarily lost sight, as what seemed like buckets of ground beef and blood were splattered onto the windshield. Keeping my foot to the floor while Max and Mattie yelled in surprise (and most likely disgust) I tried to get the wipers going.
What I couldn’t see was the two vehicles parked in the roadway also surrounded by the Zombies.

As our truck slowed down, I downshifted to lower gears as the wipers finally got the Zombie goo removed enough just in time for my sphincter to clench very tight. I had a split second of warning then I hit a parked van almost broadside with the V-plow. Everyone inside the truck cab hit the windshield/ dashboard from the impact.
The van that was impaled on the V-plow also slammed into the rear passenger side of the other parked truck; A black Dodge Ram, which was spun out of the way of our current path. Luckily I had enough mind to keep my foot to the floor as the huge truck just continued to shove the smaller vehicle as well as hundreds of other Zombies along the road in a shower of sparks and mangled limbs. Stephen sat up cursing and rubbing his head from where he hit it on the side of the dump truck.
“That was where Casper found all his goodies Amber." He said looking back at the warehouse. "But I don’t remember those vehicles being left behind.”
“Well someone left their shit behind." Amber replied. "It sure wasn’t the Zombies, unless they have their driver’s permits now.”
The van finally got pushed free, falling off the plow on the drivers side. It crushed several Zombies in the process and we got an immediate boost in speed and power. We were still dragging a portion of the rear quarter panel and it scrapped noisily on the pavement.  

Eventually we broke free of the Zombies around the warehouse and quickly made our way south to McDonough Street. Unfortunately the stuck twisted metal on the V-plow was slamming into damn near every car we came near. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I could see that all the metal shrapnel thrown from these impacts must have hit something vital on the big truck.
“Don’t get too comfortable gang.” I said. “Looks like we are losing oil pressure. Something must have gotten punctured in the accidents.”
“Do you think you can fix it Mike?” Mattie asked, already knowing the answer.
“Probably, if I had a garage to work in and the parts to swap out.” I responded. “But I don’t think the hungry undead will calmly stand by for that to happen.”
Turning west bound onto McDonough Street, we could make out that there were only a few Zombie in sight! They must have all made their way north towards the prison.
"They all followed the food." Mattie said, slowly coming out of her funk.

Slowly we made our way up and over the desolate McDonough Street Bridge to the West side of the river. Hopefully the hard part is done and we can stay ahead of the Zombies until we can find a place of safety. But turning onto Route 6 the truck stalled, for and good apparently. We coasted to a stop and Stephen shouted for everyone to grab their rucksacks and weapons and form a perimeter.
"Suppressed rifles only!" He stated. "We can't afford to draw a crowd.
Stephen and I made sure all ammo that could be carried was taken. Food and water was also important, but since that wasn’t our primary need at the moment I just made sure everyone had at least a few days’ worth.
“Hope you two have comfortable walking shoes on."  I say, looking down at Mattie and Max. "We got a good hike in front of us to get to Stephen's house.”
Stephen was looking around for the ever present Zombies and had already downed several with his AR-15.
“Come on gang; let’s get moving before they show up." He urged. "With all the noise we made, we are bound to have a lot more company soon.”
Stephen took point, followed by Amber and the three Hispanic non-English speaking females. One of them had Stephen's Beagle Buddy on a leash while the other two carried shotguns. Mattie was next as to translate any orders we might need to relay to them, with Max and me pulling rear guard.

A motley crew of eight survivors and a dog. Of course, as I limped at top speed I kept cursing at Stephen to slow the fuck down.
"Hurry your crippled ass up!" He told me. "Even my fat dog is keeping up!"
I was also kept occupied with answering Max’s questions as to what the new curse words he was hearing meant…
As if that wasn’t bad enough; Mattie was saying something to the other ladies in Spanish while looking back at me. They all looked back silently for a few moments and all started giggling and talking quietly among one another.
I was about to growl something when Max cut in with “Why do you always stare at Mattie’s butt?”
“I don’t always look at her butt." I quickly say, looking down embarrassed, as little kids with questions can often make you do. "I look at other women’s’ butts too.”
Max looked confused. “But why do you look at butts? Butts are ugly.”
I coughed a few times and I handed Max my trusty aluminum bat and shield to keep him occupied.
“Because I like them that’s why.” I said as the giggling in front got louder. “Here you go bud, now carry this and be quite.”
“Quit staring at my ass and hurry up old man!” Stephen yelled from the front.
For the love of God…this was going to be a long walk…

********    

Matvei heard the massive explosion and raced back up to the roof. Sure enough the evidence of a large blast was rising into the air from the north.
"Looks like trouble in paradise." He stated.
A short time later it became obvious by the Zombies behavior that someone was coming. Soon Matvei spotted a large V-plow truck headed his direction. It was carving a gash through the waiting Zombies and he saw the opportunity.
"Maybe I got my miracle!" Matvei cried while racing down off the roof to gather his bag.

After grabbing his meager belongings Matvei peered out the small six inch window of reinforced glass that was in the Side Metal door. Sure enough the plow truck was plowing a path right by his truck. Matvei grimaced as the plow truck smashed into the van, which then struck his Dodge Ram. But as his new luck would have it, the truck stayed intact and the plow truck drew the majority of the Zombies away in it's wake. He knew he only had seconds and threw open the door and raced for the truck.

Several Zombies noticed his arrival and turned to attack. Matvei downed five with headshots delivered from his G36. Reaching the truck he opened the door and climbed in, slamming it shut behind him as yet another Zombie slammed into his driver's window. Matvei was thankful; both that the keys were in the ignition and that the truck started. He hit the gas and tried to follow in the wake of the plow truck. Shortly thereafter the truck turned west onto McDonough and Matvei, with the Zombie hoard thinning, continued south bound out of the city. Soon free from any immediate danger Matvei turned west, towards Arizona an his ranch, while every warning light on his dashboard began to light up. The truck had suffered damage during it's forced collision with the van.
"Come on baby!" Matvei urged. "You gotta hold together for me!"      
 
********

We are all relieved as we reach Stephens sub division and find that it has not burned to the ground. Everyone is exhausted from the several hour walk, not just from the walking, but from the constant harassment from Zombies. Our four suppressed AR-15 rifles are the only thing that kept us alive during the long hike. It appears that all of the Zombies that had been roaming his neighborhood when we left had moved on in search of food. Finding his hidden house key, Stephen opens the front door and we pile inside. Buddy, happy to be home, is the first one inside.
"Don't get to comfortable Buddy." Stephen jokes. "The power and water are both out. There is no heat, and we are not going to be able to stay here long."
"You had a nice place." Amber remarks, giving Stephen a wink. "I should have spent some time here."
"That would have been nice." Stephen replies with a smile. "But we are here now."
As we all gather in the living room I state the obvious. "We have maybe a day or two before the hoard we met today makes it this far west."
"I agree." Stephen replies. "We are going to have to secure some extra wheels in the morning. My truck is not going to be able to fit us all."
"I'm just glad we made it." Mattie says while patting young Max on the shoulder.
"We all did a good job today considering the circumstances." I continue. "Now lets get unpacked and get some rest. I think we still have some of Stephen's stuff in the basement."
"Mattie." Stephen said. help the girls get unpacked and organized down here. I am going to show Amber the upstairs and then take first watch from the office."
"I will come relieve you in a few hours." I add. "I hope Dan and Kleaner show up!"

********

It is well past midnight and Stephen is starting to get tired. Amber kept him company for awhile but he eventually insisted that she get some rest and he promised to join her shortly.
“Keep the bed warm for me.” He had joked.
“I’ll be ready and waiting... But you may have to wake me up!” She replied laughing. “I have a reward for you, for helping save us all again today.”
“Saweet!” Stephen answers while showing Amber a playful arm flex. “But I’m just doing my job. Nothing special.”
“Hurry back!” Was the last thing he heard her say before she was fast asleep.

Now he only had Buddy and the horrors that transpired at the prison today to keep him awake. He started the day in a warm and cozy RV, won a football game and enjoyed a Thanksgiving feast. Now so many have died. Dan and Kleaner are missing, and he is standing watch in his cold former residence. They lost a lot today and his mind was racing, trying to figure their next move.

Buddy is suddenly alerted and looks to the south. Stephen wonders if there is about to be some Zombie company when he see's the headlights of an approaching vehicle. Slowing to a stop in front of his residence is a large black 2011 GMC Yukon XL SLT. It has a matching black Yakima Sky-Box compartment on the luggage rack and is pulling a black 16' Featherlite utility trailer. Stephen can hardly believe his eyes.
“Are you sure this is the place?” He hears a male voice say as the driver door slowly opens. “I have never been to Stephen’s house.”
“I’m pretty sure this is it.” Stephen hears a female voice respond. “They brought me here after they rescued me from my car. That was just so long ago.”
“Well we shall see.” The male responds. “There is no HAM radio transmissions coming from the prison and 1320AM is off line as well. Something must have happened. If they are not here, we will have to just head out again alone.”
At that remark Stephen hits the powerful 275 lumen Surefire light on his carbine. To his sudden surprise he lights up Holly and Casper, who suddenly stop in their tracks.
“Holy shit!” Stephen yells out the upstairs window. “Casper and Holly! I didn’t think I would see you guys again. Hang on, I’m coming down to let you in. I know there are going to be some people happy to see you!”

********

I am awoken by Mattie yelling with joy and soon find out that Casper and Holly are here. I have to admit that after today I am glad to see them as well. Mattie still has not stopped hugging Holly and they are both crying.
We were sleeping in the living room next to a propane heater and I struggle to get my pant’s on before exiting my sleeping bag.
“Good to see you brother!” I say while getting up and shaking Casper’s hand. “What happened?”
“I was going to ask you guy’s the same thing.” Casper replied.
“Well it’s been a long day.” I answer. “Were to begin?”
“Well how about with why you are all here, in the dark and cold.” Holly says. “Instead of at your prison.”

After filling Casper and Holly in on what happened during the final week at the prison and it’s eventual downfall, Casper relates his travels. They made it well south and east into Indiana and managed to avoid any major Zombie concentrations. They spent a couple days securing their new transportation and outfitting it with supplies for the trip east. During this time Holly began to worry more and more about their friends that they left behind. She missed us all and Casper eventually admitted that he felt the same way. He had secured a 2-meter HAM radio but it was not powerful enough to reach Joliet from were they were at. Holly finally convinced Casper to head back and try to see what was going on and if there was anyway they could help. When they reached radio range just today they could not raise anyone on the HAM and 1320AM was no longer broadcasting. As they reached Joliet they saw the large hoard of Zombies and feared the worst. Holly knew where Stephen’s place was and insisted that they check the house before trying again for Maine.
“And here we are.” Casper said, finishing his story and pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “ And I got a lot of shit in that trailer out there.”
“Good news. Good news.” I reply. “We sure need it.”

After all the excitement died down and everyone was tucked back in, Mattie sat up with me in the office on guard duty. We wrapped ourselves in a blanket and talked about Casper’s arrival, how lucky we were, and what would happen from here.
“I sure hope Dan and Kleaner show up.” I say. “We can only afford to wait a day or two.”
“I hope somebody else made it out and makes it here to join us.” Mattie says before leaning in close. “But I do know of at least one other person who will be making the trip with us.”
“Oh yeah, who is that?” I ask dumbly yet again.
“Our baby silly.” Mattie says softly and simply. “I’m pregnant.”
‘Fuck Me!....’

Epilogue
November 26, 2011
Day 61

The over packed black Chevy Colorado rocketed Westbound down the I-88 toll road.
"You had better slow the fuck down." I suggested. "It's not like the Zombies are right on our asses."
The driver, Stephen, was calmly weaving in and out around the occasional stalled, wrecked, and abandoned vehicles that dotted the roadway. We were now well west of DeKalb Illinois and out of any immediate danger. Stephen’s house had offered two days of sanctuary before the same hoard of Zombies that overran the prison reached the far west side of Joliet. They had angled their way northwest on back roads until reaching I-88.
“I am just trying to keep up.” Stephen responded. “Talk to the asshole driving the black Jeep Wrangler on point.”
“Mattie.” I said, turning to face her. “Tell him to slow down.”
Mattie was sitting in the back seat of the crew cab truck and was talking in Spanish into a 2-way hand held radio.
“Tiene lindos ojos.” Mattie was saying. “You have pretty eyes.”

Up ahead in the scout vehicle, Dan scowled as he listened to the radio little Max was holding.
“Hey kid.” Dan grunted. “Tell Mattie that this is America and those Latino ladies can learn English! She is not going to teach me Spanish!”
As Max went to relay the message Dan had a change of heart.
“Hold that thought kid.” Dan said. “I would like to know how to say ‘Nice ass’ and ‘let me see your tits in Spanish. That might help me out in the sort term. Two of them are sitting in the back seat and I got nothing to say to them.”

Dan had arrived at Stephen’s house the morning after Casper arrived, driving a brand new 'Call of Duty-Black Ops' edition black Jeep Wrangler with a hard top. He had managed to locate it on a Jeep dealership lot off Route 52 on the way to Stephens. After the night he had endured, the Jeep provided a much needed lift. After dragging Kleaner onto the boat, Dan was forced to watch is new friend succumb to his injuries. The shock of his severed foot, the blood loss and the freezing water was too much. If Dan wouldn’t have found a change of clothes in the small house boat he would have died himself. He was then able to cut the lines and let the boat drift down stream until he was clear of the massive hoard. Nobody else showed up at Stephens, but the addition of the Jeep gave the small convoy a third 4-wheel drive vehicle.
“Mattie.” Max said. “Uncle Dan wants to know how to say ‘tits and ass’ In Spanish?”
“Put Uncle Dan on the radio!” Mattie said in a stern voice.
All the while the two Latino sisters in the back seat where clueless to the conversation. They were just happy to be in the same vehicle as the gruff and brash large man, while their other sister was forced to ride in Casper’s Yukon which trailed Stephen’s truck.
“Dan!” Mattie yelled. “He is just a boy! You have to watch your lan...”
“I hate to cut you off Mattie.” Dan responded abruptly. “I see something moving up the road here.”

As Dan slowed his Jeep he could make out the figure standing next to a truck parked on the side of the road. The figure was standing in the road waving his arms in the air.
“It’s a man.” Dan said into the radio. “I’m gonna pull over.”
“There is a man in the road ahead Casper.’ I said into my own radio. “We are going to be pulling over.”
“Roger that Mike.” Casper replied. “We copied Dan’s traffic.”

We stopped about thirty yards from the man and I got a good look at him as Stephen, Dan and I exited our vehicles.  At about 6’2” and well over 200 pounds, the man was an imposing figure. He was wearing an unusual camouflage uniform, a pattern I was not familiar with.
“That looks like Russian Para Brown VSR.” Stephen said in a hushed tone. “Pretty sweet lookin. He also has what appears to me to be a H&K G36 slung over his shoulder.”
The rifle was slung and not held in a threatening manner, and I also noticed a pistol holstered on the mans belt.
“I was wandering if you folks might be willing to give me a ride?” The man said in a thick Eastern Bloc accent. “My truck broke down and I am out of food and water.”
“That could be arranged.” I replied, asking. “Where are you from and where are you headed?”
“I’m from Russia, And the name is Matvei...” He answered. “I am headed to my ranch in Arizona. It is well supplied and fortified. If you help me reach it I will make it worth your while.”
Casper was now walking up and chimed in. “Well that sure beats where we are headed. Wait.... Where are we headed anyways?”
The four of us now finish walking up to Matvei and cautiously shake hands. He is definitely military from his demeanor and gear.
“How did you end up here?” Stephen Asks.
“That’s a long story.” Matvei replies. “One for the road maybe?”
“To a ranch in Arizona?” I ask.
“Da.” Matvei replies.
We hold a brief discussion and reach a unanimous decision to bring Matvei along and take him up on his offer. Matvei grabs his bag out of his truck and walks back up to the four of us.
“By the way, I’m Mike.” I say as we walk back to the vehicle’s. “And this is Stephen, Dan and Casper.”
Matvei slows in his steps and pauses for a brief second before continuing with a chuckle.
“Everything ok?” Stephen asks.
“Oh yes.” Matvei replies. “You guys just look like some squared away mother fuckers. I’m glad to have you for my trek west. By the way, do you have any extra 5.56? I’m clean out.”
“Sure.” Stephen replies. “I got some .45 for that USP also, if you need it.”

Reaching our vehicles I introduce Matvei to the girls and soon we are ready to hit the road. Amber had let Buddy out to use the bathroom in the ditch and Holly passed out snacks for everyone before we took back off. Matvei would be riding with Casper, Holly and Dan’s third girlfriend in the Yukon. After Mattie finished scolding Dan for his language in front of Max, we were ready to hit the road.
“Well, it’s Arizona I guess.” Dan said into the radio while checking a road atlas.”
“Now what were we talking about, before we were so rudely interrupted?” Stephen asks Amber as he puts the truck into drive.
“I was asking you about a RV babe.” Amber replies. “Can we get another one for the trip? It was so comfortable compared to this.”
“Anything for you darling.” Stephen replied while hitting shuffle on his ipod Touch. “We will have to keep an eye out.”
The ipod selects it’s first song as we are getting back up to speed.
It’s Metallica....... ‘Turn the Page......’

Thanks to everyone that read the story and commented on it. We both greatly appreciate it. Now we are going to start the long process of breaking it down into about 40 or 50 smaller chapters and try to get it published. It has been sent off for copy write and I already have a lot of ideas written down on ways to flush out various story lines along the way.

Thanks again. And here is a couple pictures.


Stephen, Dan and Mike at the prison.



And for good measure Buddy.

Tease

Haha yeah sorry.... I need three posting to put this up and want it sequential. Just a few more minutes actually.

Working midnights need it to read,  post up please.

Also just updated chapter one.

Thanks so much for the story. It was one of my favorites. Fridays won't be the same.
A sequel would be awesome! Thanks again.

I call dibs on a signed copy!  Great story bro. I really appreciate you sharing it with all of us. Be sure to keep us up to date on what you're doing with it as far as publishing it. I definitely want a copy or two.

That was a great story, I hate it to be over what hell am i gonna do now?
The pictures are fitting, but pics of Mattie or GTFO I wouldn't mind a signed copy
either if they will be available. Thanks for the read.

this too

I'll see what I can do...

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. Thank you for so much of your time and talent.

Would love to read the continuing saga if that may be an option??


Gary

dude, fucking awesome!

when it gets published will you do an ARFCOM signing?

Excellent read.  Thanks for the effort!

EXCELLENT!
Not only a great story with fully developed characters that we care about, a kick ass story line, and the cool links to real places, but I also appreciate the process that you stuck with to publish, the discipline. Made for a very good experience for us because we knew when to expect the next installment and you didn't disappoint us.

Thanks JPD!

PS: +1 for pics of Mattie

I don't post much (no time) but I had to say BRAVO! Good story, great disipline to keep it up and complete it!
(Still hoping for a pic of Mattie!)

Great story!

FUCKING EPIC MAN. I cannot wait for the sequel, cause if you dont give us one we will hunt you down and waterboard you until you do.

Could the sequel perhaps have a  Lights Out type environment for the survivors to deal with?   You have a few options to go with this especially

with the Matevi bastard now on their convoy.  Excellent job, I eagerly wait your next post towards this story.

Thanks for all of the positive feedback. I'm glad at least somebody liked it! It's going to take a couple months to flush certain parts out a little better and polish it up. I'm getting started on that this weekend in fact. Writing it was a lot of fun and we already have several ideas if we want to continue the story line. That's just going to have to be down the road a bit.



Absolutely. This site helped inspire the story.

And I'm letting Mattie know about all the requests.

I love reading all the stories here on ARFCOM, I wish I could write like you guys.

badass

What an awesome fucking story!! Thank you for taking the time to put it all down. I will definately order a copy when it goes into print.  

i would like to see a pic of Mattie as well!

I just want to express my gratitude. This story was very well thought out and flowed in a way that made you not want to stop reading it. I hope there will be more to come and I would be down for a copy once it gets published.

Thanks again!

+1 for Mattie pics

THat was excellent.  Well done.  

+1 pics of Mattie, or Holly

Great story and thanks for sharing it here  

Agree some mattie pics would be  

This was an awesome story.  I loved the gun descriptions and the humor.  It was very entertaining.

This needs a sequel.

Nothing to say that hasn't already been said - just  Thanks!  My Friday nights just aren't the same now.  

This was a great work, and I hope you're able to get it published.  Well done.