DARKEST PART OF DAY, Part II (Page 2 of 8)
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Originally Posted By Sapper76:
Some people need to be patient and let the man have some free time, sheesh maybe he want's to do some other things in his spare time besides write one of the greatest zombie novels ever made... Or you can keep up pumping out the chapters  lol, what could he possibly want to do other then keep arfcom entertained? no one has a life outside arfcom, no one. 
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| Well life does revolve around the gun. I keep an M16 in the trunk of the squad. I run a business on the side selling tactical equipment. I duracoat, what else? ARs (and most anything that goes bang). Build ARs in the spare time and write about people using ARs. Am I too one dimensional or is that really diversity. |
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Originally Posted By fast45:
Well life does revolve around the gun. I keep an M16 in the trunk of the squad. I run a business on the side selling tactical equipment. I duracoat, what else? ARs (and most anything that goes bang). Build ARs in the spare time and write about people using ARs. Am I too one dimensional or is that really diversity. Very diversly one dimensional? |
I'm from Texas, what country are you from?
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Chapter 6 Power to the People Breakfast was served hot, delicious and cafeteria style. Hundreds of people drifted in and out of the school building, grabbing a bite at the beginning or end of their days. A tour of the dam area by armed convoy was the only thing different from the regular tour. Simon proudly showed me and a few other new arrivals around the river blocking complex. I can’t remember ever seeing a more extensive or creative use of chain link fencing. Double rows of it, 8 and 10 feet high, ringed the entire facility, the roads leading up both banks and even more around important buildings. All of it was tied into the electrical grid, along with hundreds of powerful lights. It was impressive even in daylight. Stationary guard towers were connected by a telephone system and patrolled by foot and vehicle mounted armed security forces. All the people I’d seen since arriving here were armed, except Simon. The river ran north south through the eastern quadrant of the city, and was lined with a concrete wall most of its length. The wall was only a foot or so high on the ground side, dropping 6-10 feet down to the water side. Zs could easily walk or fall in, and according to Simon, many did. Whether it was on purpose or not, many bodies clogged the inlet valves to the turbines and had to be constantly removed. Many times these floating creatures were still alive but unable to swim, instead roiling in the churning water for days. Simon explained, in much more detail than I would ever remember, all the workings of the facility. This place could easily power this city and another one its size, giving them plenty of potential for expansion. Simon knew the importance of the power and of regaining a human foothold, safe from the Z virus and its deadly carriers. How to keep it safe was where his understanding or compassion conflicted with the actual danger and need to kill the infected. There would be no peace, no civilization as long as these savage killers, these bloodthirsty carnivores were on the loose. That was the reality I knew. Even one could start a chain reaction of re-infection in an otherwise healthy population. There may be a time and place to let them “evolve” or even heal, but it wasn’t here and it wasn’t yet. I knew that and so did Ray and his security people. Our tour worked out from the dam and into the city where entire city blocks were enjoying the benefits of electricity. There had been a lot of engineering done here and the cost had been heavy. Clean water had been a first priority after the fences were up. Rerouting lines and purging the systems meant going in the dark caverns of the city’s underground, and out into the unprotected zone, all inhabited by the undead dead. Three quarters of the city was under zombie domination but it was necessary to go into that area for food, parts, gasoline, and other provisions like medical supplies. All told, there were some 6,000 people living and working here, and no one gets a free ride. Each person has a job or two. Most of the younger men, including boys as young as 14, are assigned to security duties, like watch tower, gate guards and roving patrols, and exterior hunting parties. Dependant on skills, most people are assigned or volunteered for posts that they made a living with prior to the outbreak. Electricians and power distribution specialists being some of the most important positions. Everyone is treated equal; meals are communal affairs, as is much of the housing. Those that wish can seek individual living quarters. The laws are few, common sense and strictly enforced. Hording, theft and crimes like rape are all dealt with swiftly and severely. Minor thefts and hording could result in banishment, while rape and murder are death sentences. Almost anything of value was moved to the second floor or higher. It seemed as though these citizens still understood, as I had, that height offered some security from the roaming dead. I would still have to see a stiff jointed Z climb to believe it. The bulk of the population was broken down into block neighborhoods. Just like the early days in this country, families and communities centralized around their neighborhoods for social activities. Meals were still kept in large part to larger facilities like the school and a couple bigger churches, but smaller, ethnic divisions offered some variety. Since all the food was procured and disseminated by the city, there was no cost. If you wanted tacos, you could drop by a Hispanic block or Italian area for pastas and so on. What were clearly missing were the hoodlums and gangs that had previously burdened and plagued places like these. There just wasn’t time for such nonsense. And not a single person had the time to “hang out” on a street corner for hours or the luxury of a car to go joyriding in. Ray told me how a few former gangbangers had tried to run things early on. While they threatened and intimidated other citizens for a short while, they had quickly and eventually found themselves alone, or outnumbered against the roaming droves of the undead. Without food or the skills to find it or prepare it, many saw the light, and realized they needed society. There were only a few that resisted assimilation or had committed crimes so violent that they could not be forgiven, which were killed by city folk on sight or Zs by chance. Things were much the way I had always assumed they would be following a major catastrophe. Of course, I, like many people, had something like a nuclear war or a meteor strike in mind, not zombies. While large portions of the world’s population could have been wiped out, no one imagined murdering, unfeeling, cannibalistic dead people constantly hunting them. Everywhere our tour went I met friendly people, who seemed genuinely happy to make my acquaintance. I don’t think it was anything special about me, just that I wasn’t going to eat them. I was another person that could help them survive, share in the workload, and that was important to them. The convoy followed an elevated expressway that arced from the west to the northern edge of the control area. Along the way, I saw very few of the dead on the other side of the fence. Ray said that the dead rarely showed themselves during the day anymore, a reaction to the deadly accuracy of his snipers. That worked out fine for the living citizens, so they could make their forays. He cautioned that it wasn’t as easy as simply going out to get things and then rushing back before dark. The sanctuary of dark store interiors and shadows of buildings were enough to conceal the dead, waiting in ambush. Often patrols were quickly surrounded, X-humans converging upon them from those shadows and dark doorways. On the plus side, it did allow them to drive faster and with more determination, and allowed more accurate fire in the one-sided gun battles. Ray told me that the humans here had faired well so far, only losing a few people a month. His concern seemed to lie in the fact that each time out, his patrols had found the X-human numbers were growing and appeared to be staging closer to the berms and fences. We were back at the high school, the central hub of the city at noon. Lunch was simple but filling, and tasted great compared to how I had eaten lately. Fresh, filtered and iced water was the best part. The simplest commodity, once one of the most unappreciated products of daily life, now tasted better than any other beverage I could remember drinking. After dinner, another delicious celebration of home cooking, Ray and some of his command asked me to adjourn with them for a debriefing. In the auditorium, we discussed their upcoming agenda. Many were interested in my journey and observations. The exchange of information was interesting and helpful to me as well. And then Ray dropped a bomb on them, asking about the torture and taunting of the X-humans. The way some of the heads snapped around in the room was a give away to me as to who was involved, not surprising to me, Bobby, was one of the most guilty looking. Ray made it clear that anyone found practicing such techniques would be demoted, set on static watch forever or suffer other sanctions. He reminded everyone that our opponents were once our friends and neighbors and had not asked to be re-animated into monsters. Kill them, but some compassion would be nice, he told the assembled group. They would all expect such treatment if they became infected. Running over the dead, redead was still part of the routine to finish off the death cycle, but he didn’t want the vehicles used as battering rams, they were too hard to find and keep running as it was. Before sundown, Ray and a few others stopped by the shooting range. It was required for anyone carrying a firearm in the city to be proficient with them. I had recently given Ray the AKM, since I had no ammunition for it and was tired of carrying it. He handed it off to his head armorer to find a home for it. I had my carbine and the SIG and was put through a quick qualification course, passing with ease. I don’t think the requirements were designed to preclude very many shooters. Then it was back to the office building/dorm for a couple glasses of cold water, a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. My first working day was spent doing vehicle patrols around the control zone. I got a chance to see the entire secured area and the capabilities of the security forces. Cool and overcast, the day was unpleasant since I was underdressed. Winter would soon be here, and I only had so much clothing to wear. As we rolled around, I was thankful to be in the truck and wondered how I would have been coping with the weather had I not been rescued. I would have to check the shopping options around the city to get outfitted properly before leaving. I always thought that cooler weather would slow down the cold-blooded zombies, but that assumption was based on normal human pathology and biology. X-human zombies were anything but normal and never failed to surprise me. Their movement today was more active, I guessed because there wasn’t a bright sunshine, and they generally preferred the shadows and darkness. Today, they were everywhere, wandering like teenagers at the mall, in little packs. Whenever we approached, the sound of the vehicles would get their attention and they would turn and start after us, growling and snapping their nasty brown teeth. Our standing orders were to kill any Zs that approached the fence or neared the berm. We stopped often, not even bothering to dismount the trucks, gunning down smaller groups and individuals. Amazingly, as soon as we started shooting, the Zs would turn and attempt to retreat into the doorways and behind buildings. It was another new development in their behavior. This lot wasn’t the same, attack at all costs types, as I had encountered so far. This was dangerous; they were reacting, maybe even thinking. None of the people around me seemed to notice or appreciate the fact. This had to be an evolution of the X-humans and not something that had been here all along. While I conceded that as a collective, we living, breathing humans didn’t know enough about this virus, diseases, infection, whatever you wanted to call it. I viewed the undead dead as just another predator, adapting to catching its prey easier and more efficient. I asked to be let off so I could acclimate myself to the area. My driver pointed out a couple of buildings that were wired with the rudimentary phone system. I could call for a ride when I was ready or find shelter on the third floor of either building. Climbing up the berm, I was immediately aware that I was being watched. Whether they sensed I was alone or considered me a vulnerable target, the Zs turned out. Poking my head above the berm, I noted at least a dozen Zs peering back at me from the doorways and windows of the buildings across the barren land between us. I didn’t start shooting right away, not seeing any of them as a threat to me at the time. Instead, I watched them, magnified by my binoculars. Even though I had not shown more than the top of my head down to my nose, I could see clearly that every milky, white eyeball was aimed right at me. It was a little spooky. I wasn’t sure how they could see or with what clarity, but they were definitely looking right to me. I slowly backed up and moved to a new spot, taking advantage of some bushes for concealment. When I took another look, they were still looking, but now scanning the area for me. Are they that well equipped with the senses, sight hearing, and smell? If so, we were all in serious trouble. But, if they were so advanced, and if they were acting with some plan or purpose, they had to have leaders. And that would be my advantage. I stood up and worked my way to the top of the berm. Laying the rifle on the ground, I waved my arms and started to talk, just to make noise. It worked; more than a dozen decayed and staggering bodies came into view. I wasn’t sure yet if they recognized the long gun as a threat, but without seeing it they braved coming forward. A few came straight for me, and I saw them as the lesser developed ones when they stumbled into the first fence. With a loud pop, their decimated bodies exploded as the current surged through them. Four down, a dozen to go. Standing my ground, I watched their reactions and actions. The remainder of the opposing group had stopped their advance. A series of low-pitched growls and grunts filled the air. I found the source. He stood farthest back, just a few feet from a concrete pillar. It wouldn’t be a long shot to take him down, but shooting through double rows of chain link fence made for more luck than skill to work. But he was the guy that was in charge. I needed to know what happened to the others if he was taken out of the loop. Slowly, I sat down, getting closer to the rifle, all the while continuing to talk, reciting song lyrics and other bits of useless chatter. Without warning, I snatched up the rifle and quickly shouldered it for a snap shot. I fired 3 rounds to increase my chances of a hit. The first round hit the wire of the fence as I feared, but rounds 2 and 3 found their mark, striking the man in the throat and chin. One round must have carried through and nicked the spine, he dropped in place. Without his control, the others began to howl and wander around, unsure which way to go. Eventually, a few came at me, snarling and snapping jaws, walking right into the fence. When they began to fry on the wire, the others went crazy and advanced too, but only to the bottom of the berm. While they wouldn’t engage me further, they weren’t backing off either, even after I opened up on them. In only a few minutes the organized lot was down but more were now pouring forth from the dark shadows of the buildings. I let them come, holding fire until they were closer. That’s when I saw a tall dark-haired Z in a second story window in the building to my right front. I swung the muzzle toward him and tried to find his ugly face in the scope. He was gone from view but I could hear him, almost barking, calling the others into retreat. I managed a few more kills before they were all out of sight. I was still looking when a vehicle approached. As it coasted to a stop, a half dozen armed men jumped out and joined me on the berm. “Wow, look at that.” One of them whistled. “Got to be two dozen of them.” Someone else said. “We got a call that there was activity on the fence here,” the driver announced. “Simon said his gauges pinpointed a power draw here. What happened?” he asked. “Something very interesting and very important. I need to speak to Ray right away.” I urged and headed for the truck. “I was told you had a busy day.” Ray said as I walked into his office. I told him what had happened and he sat there, mouth hanging open, obviously shocked by the revelation. “We can use this. This is good.” He said with a half smile. “This is bad, Ray. The rules are changing and if they have the numbers you estimate, we could be in some serious trouble.” I shot back. Even now, the X-humans may be realizing that we know their secret. Maybe they had been holding back, waiting to reinforce their numbers to guarantee a victory. Or perhaps they were working on an assault plan. It was crazy to think that these deadly, and dead, monsters could be plotting, but I felt that’s what was happening. “We need to hit them first.” I said, looking Ray in the face. “Simon will go nuts; he won’t believe it or allow such an assault. He still thinks these creatures will progress to the point that we can reason with them.” Ray cautioned. “Like I said before, you are trapped in a cage if these things break through. It would be a slaughter. And if that’s the way things are going to happen here, then I’m leaving a little earlier than we spoke of.” I fired back, sounding a little more forceful. “Ok. OK. I’ll talk to him. But he may want proof and that might make him even more reluctant to kill them and more convinced we could negotiate. He carries a lot of weight with the rest of the city elders.” He responded. “I’ll be back out on the north side, waiting.” I said and walked out. Simon was a good man and I understood his position, to a point. We all wanted an end to the killing. We all wanted to believe the X-humans could be human again and we could all get back to life and living. He just had to see though, that it wasn’t going to happen overnight, if at all. As smart as he was, I imagined that he could see the injuries many of these things had suffered and had to realize there was no coming back from those. Whatever “progress” or evolution was happening here, it was only going to make them more deadly and more efficient killers. I was dropped off again, this time farther down the road. This time I also had three other shooters with me, one armed with a video camera. As before, we stayed behind the berm for a while to let the curiosity of the opposition to peak. I asked the others to stay concealed but wanted them to carry on a conversation in normal tones. I took the cameraman with me a few yards away, finding a vantage point behind some disabled cars where we could film the enemy. In only a few minutes the land past the fence was active with a staggering, stumbling crowd of X-humans trying to figure out how to get to the meal, they could hear but not see. This time the odds were more lopsided, with at least three- dozen hungry, walking cadavers lumbering toward the berm. Before they reached the halfway point in the no-mans land before us, a loud howl echoed out, freezing the Zs in their tracks. I searched for the source, starting on the second floor windows and balconies first. It hadn’t dawned on me before that the fact these things were on the second floor was another anomaly. Like a mother warning her kids from danger, this unseen leader was recalling his troops. More than half rebelled, not moving forward, but not yielding ground either. These had to be the weakest of mind, concerned more for food than order. It would be important to know their hierarchy. What separated them, what injuries were visible, how they moved, were all the little facts we needed to find out. Unfortunately those kinds of traits could take months to catalog and decipher. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to slow them down and shake them up by dropping a few of the chiefs and letting the rest fend for themselves. The loud grunts of their leaders drew my attention to another second story window. This guy was cautious, only showing half of his body and face at the edge of the window frame. Dressed in a dark blue coverall, he blended well into the shadows of the darkened room behind him. But I had his location. I instructed the camera guy to keep the lens zoomed in on our target to get a good look at him. I signaled one of the other defenders to move along the berm only showing a small bit of his body. As expected, it caused a chorus of growling and moaning as a dozen of the decaying bodies staggered forward. Their leader did nothing at first, but when they neared the electrified fence, he uttered out a long guttural tome, halting them in place. I was convinced now that these things had a language, a type of communication. And they understood some command structure, a pecking order seen in every type of animal on the planet. Without his intervention more than a dozen of them would have walked straight into the fence. Perhaps that act would have initiated a riotous response from some of the others who might have joined them. But a good third of these deadly cannibals stood fast, awaiting instructions. The cameraman flinched and I caught the movement in the corner of my vision. “What’s up?” I queried. “I think he’s looking right at me, or us. Just a little eerie.” The young man replied. I looked through the scope to find my target again, but he was gone from view. I could hear him, echoing commands in the building and I guessed he was making his way down to take charge of his warriors. The fact that he and the other one could negotiate stairs was disturbing. Hell, everything I was experiencing with the Zs here in this city was disturbing and very dangerous. With our main target now out of the way, I told the other shooters to engage, and destroy as many as they could, starting with the farthest targets first. We laid into them and managed to down at least two thirds of them, 24 in all. We called for a pick up and arrived back at the school in time for dinner. My camera guy, a twenty something kid with a mop of red hair and plenty of freckles, had rigged the video cam to a TV set so we could show Ray and Simon and the other section leaders. The sound quality wasn’t the best given the ranges involved, but the clear, actions and reactions of the X-human killers was unmistakable. While I thought Simon would use the evidence as an argument to approach the enemy in some negotiations, he surprised me by excusing himself. He looked ashen and didn’t say a word when he left. An hour later I was summoned to Ray’s office, where I found several troop leaders and Simon waiting. “We may have a bigger problem than we originally thought.” Simon started off. I shook my head, agreeing wholeheartedly that we did. But there was more. “That individual, the one you taped in the upper window, he used to work for me. He has an intimate knowledge of the entire power system, from the water up. At least he used to.” Simon let out. I could see what his concern was now, the zombie engineer could, and seemed already was, trying to destroy the system. “It explains so much. The bodies in the river clogging the inlets, the probes on the power generation plant and along the fence. He’s looking for a weak spot and trying to bring us down. He must be stopped.” Simon said, almost demanding. There was no argument among those gathered. The only question now, was how. If this former engineer, a man Simon called, Stampley, had any chance to get his forces in, we would be in deep do-do. And if he had any inkling we were after him, would it be enough that he would push his agenda into a major offensive strike? |
As if regular zombies weren't bad enough, now they gotta deal with thinking z's? I would suggest making some explosives & lobbing them into the second floor window where their leader was last seen.
If this ever really happens, I am so building a tree fort with rope for access.  Only trouble is getting into it quickly with a pack full of gear.
Fast45, you are a better writer than Stuart Woods or James Patterson. 
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The world will look up & shout "save us". And I'll whisper "no".
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I really like the way the story is evolving! this is definitely one of the better Zombie stories i have read.
It would be nice for once to see a city make it... it seems like in every zombie novel every safe haven gets overrun or ends up falling to internal politics... But besides that this is a great story and i enjoy the updates!! |
Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you: 1. Jesus Christ 2. The American GI, One died for your soul, the other for your freedom". Tony Blair
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Originally Posted By KJCA3:
I really like the way the story is evolving! this is definitely one of the better Zombie stories i have read. It would be nice for once to see a city make it... it seems like in every zombie novel every safe haven gets overrun or ends up falling to internal politics... But besides that this is a great story and i enjoy the updates!! +1 |
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I like the change in bahavior, hell I like the whole story so far!
Good job 
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Originally Posted By Taxman:
Dont lie, 90% of you would buy Snuggies if we could get them in black with the Bolt Face Logo on them.
Perfect for ARFCOM posting, keeps you warm in even the coldest basements.
Dont lie, 90% of you would buy Snuggies if we could get them in black with the Bolt Face Logo on them.
Perfect for ARFCOM posting, keeps you warm in even the coldest basements.
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Chapter 7
The Wiley Foe I waited for 3 days without hearing a thing and without seeing a change in the city’s routine. This troubled me, much the same had happened in Paradise Springs. No one was taking the initiative to make a difference and I feared the outcome was going to be the same. Status quo wasn’t good enough these days. The end of my week was coming fast and when I reminded Ray he acted surprised. “You aren’t seriously thinking of still leaving are you?” he asked, almost sounding angry. “Ray, I, ah,” I stammered, not sure how to calm him. “Just say it!” he snapped. “OK, what the hell are you waiting for?” I fired back, angered now by his attitude and the general lack of action. “You’ve seen the attempts on the city, the attempts on the power plants, you’ve seen the video of these monsters working together and you know what’s coming,” I continued. “I’ve been in another city that refused to recognize the danger, I told you about that. I stayed there longer than I should have, hoping that they would do something. In the end, I lost friends, and nearly got caught myself. I don’t intend to go out that way or watch it happen to others again,” I finished. He knew I was serious, that I wasn’t going to be idle right up until Armageddon. “We’re working on it. We’re looking at the options,” he started to say when I cut him off. “Bullshit, Ray! No one has lifted a finger or changed a single thing around here. Just don’t forget your promise.” I added, watching his face get redder. Then he breathed deeply and let it out slowly, the muscles in his face relaxing. “You’re right. I can’t and won’t stand in your way. I guess I just hate losing people, for any reason,” he said. “Then its time to act, Ray.” I urged one more time. He nodded in agreement but didn’t say anything else so I left the room. Around three in the afternoon, I was relaxing on the sofa in my office apartment. Reading year old copies of magazines had gotten old fast, until I considered how long it would be until such luxuries would be commonplace again. Everything, the supple, over-padded sofa, the solar-protected glass windows, durable carpeting, everything was likely to take a long time to have again. A claxon rang; breaking my solitude and making me jump. Seemed everyone here had failed to mention the warning system to me. Going to the window, I looked around, quickly focusing along the portion of the berm visible from my elevation. I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary except the flurry of activity around he parking lot directly below my window. I donned my vest and grabbed my pack, racing down the stairs. As I entered the lobby, Ray waved to me. “Would you like to take a ride with me?” he asked with a weak smile. I asked him what was happening and his said it wasn’t clear yet, but that it appeared to be in line with our last conversation. We took 20 shooters in 4 trucks, speeding to the east. Right away I figured we were headed to the power plant by the river. We arrived to find hundreds of Zs spilling through a downed section of fence. Burned bodies were being trampled under the surge, having given themselves to the electricity. The foot soldiers were the lower thinking types, and the most emaciated of the X-humans I’d seen. I wondered if they knew how badly off they were and had sacrificed themselves for the peace of a final death. Those now busting through the opening were the second level types we had seen, taking direction from hidden commanders. With the look of purpose and determination they moved as fast as they could straight towards the next rows of fencing guarding the control buildings. Perhaps they hadn’t or couldn’t consider it, but those fences were electrified as well. The first two Zs to touch it, exploded, smoking bits of them landing all around us. That surprise, as well as the added deadly affects of our shooters firepower broke the attack, turning it into an unorganized melee. I couldn’t see the zombie leaders, but I could hear bits and pieces of their wailings. It had no affect on the demonic flesh eaters. They were seeing warm-blooded humans before them and were attracted by the loud pops of gunfire. Simon called Ray on the radio, asking when he could shut down the power to the fence to start repairs. Ray answered tersely. We were engaged with an enemy and nothing else was currently more important. I jumped up onto the roof of the truck for a better view, looking for the leaders. I found the first one standing on the metal landing of some service stairs along the side of an office building. He was looking to my right, head back, chin jutted out, howling orders. I zeroed in on the side of his ugly, rotted face and took up the slack on the trigger. Just before I fired, he looked at me, snarling, but seeming to know that his reaction would be slower than my bullet, too slow to save him. I finished the squeeze, sending the 62-grain hollow point into his face, gratified by the black splash of goo on the wall behind where his head had been. Others howled in protest in the shadows and I yelled for Ray to get some guys that could shoot to start looking for them. We found two more and without them, the crowd went wild and clumsy. The deadly horde came at us, the shooting drawing more from all around the area. Just as well, I thought, getting a chance to reduce their number further before being called off. Our battle raged on for nearly 2 hours, with Simon repeatedly pestering Ray for us to finish up so his crews could mend the fence. Concealed among the building and disabled cars across the land in front of us, the uncontrolled portion of the city groaned, and growled, echoes of their displeasure finally calling back some of the undead. When it was over, we had killed more than 200 plus a couple dozen others had been electrocuted on the fences. Ray called Simon to tell him the news. Now came a dangerous time as the fence power went down. All the posts along the perimeter were on high alert, cautioned to look for other attempted breaches while the crews repaired the wire. Out of nowhere, Ray had an idea. Why not push into the uncontrolled zone and take the fight after the fleeing enemy. Maybe the push would keep them running, well, shambling away. I was all for it. We called for a few more truckloads of shooters to stand guard for the fence fixing crew while the rest of us went hunting. Everyone reloaded and grabbed extra magazines from the trucks. We also topped off gas in the trucks and water in our bellies. No one wanted to run out of anything deep into the badlands. With Ray aboard, we were 22 guys going after an unknown number of enemy. The pre-catastrophe population of the city was just over 60,000, with no way of knowing how many of those would still be out there, or how many more had accumulated since. Bobby was here too, leading the way in an old Chevrolet Blazer with the top cut open. Bobby had lived in this part of the city all his life and was familiar with the best roads. Unfortunately, the best roads quickly gave way to congested parking lots. The major thoroughfares here gridlocked with all forms of vehicles, their former owners fleeing from them during the early days of the infection. It appeared all the city had tried to flee, to where, none of them probably had a clue. We found secondary streets to be easier to move on. But the Zs were gone from view. At first, the trail of ooze and body parts had been easy to follow. We weren’t going to dismount to go after them, but noted some of the buildings that appeared to have multiple slime trails going into them. We weren’t even being challenged, so the incursion turned out to be a flop. On the plus side, we found a few food stores and hardware stores, making quick recons of them and logged the locations for future forays. We rolled back to the berm only having added ten or twelve more kills to the day’s total. Simon was nearly done with the patch to the fence as we rumbled through. He and his crew buttoned things up and flipped the switch to re-energize the protective barrier. No sooner had we re-entered the school grounds, than another alarm sounded. Apparently another attempt was underway not far from the previous breach. Since we were already loaded and mobile, we responded, racing back to the scene. By the time we arrived, the grounds were empty except for 6-7 charred bodies still smoldering on the fence. I got the message; they were testing us. They were looking at our response time and our response. I wondered if we would have been assaulted had only one truck showed up. I was starting to re-think my thoughts about bringing Annie and the other here to live. It wasn’t safe and it wouldn’t be so long as the enemy was allowed to “live” so close by. But how safe was Annie now? Was she even still alive? I suddenly had a dull panicky feeling pulling through my gut. I needed to go, soon. I found Ray, feet resting up on his desk, while he cleaned his rifle. I think he knew what I wanted even before I spoke. “You still planning on going tomorrow?” he asked, without looking up. “I have to.” I replied. “But I think I want to come back. The potential here is encouraging and exciting. I’m most concerned that it will fall apart before I get back.” I answered. “I know you have family to check on. I just hope you aren’t disappointed. And, I hope you do make it back. The safety is in numbers and combined knowledge we are all going to need to share to exist, he said to me, almost fatherly. I knew he was right and that’s what drew my interest in this place. But I had to know about my family and whether it was better where they were. That’s if they were still there at all. “Here” he said, tossing me a set of keys. “It’s the best I can do at this time. If you come back, maybe we’ll go shopping for something better,” he said with a grin. I looked in my hand and saw keys for a Honda motorcycle. “Thank you.” I replied with a nod. The motorcycle was in the motor pool area at the back of the school. I had very little experience with cycles, motorized ones that is. But I knew the basics and since I wasn’t in a competition and didn’t plan of going anywhere at a break neck pace, I’d be fine. Ray had done me a good deed. I could travel quickly and nimbly and fairly quietly too. Fuel economy should allow me to make it to Bernie’s with only one or two fill ups depending on detours I may run in to. I spent the rest of the day going over my equipment. I wanted to pare down the weight and bulk to make balancing the pack on my back while on the cycle. I also planned to donate some items to Ray to disburse, as he felt best. The temperatures continued to drop over the course of the day until the air nipped on exposed skin. Watching some of the other security people head out, I could tell they weren’t used to the cold. They also weren’t as well prepared as they should be. I expected snow or at least a heavy frost by morning, making a long motorcycle trip much less exciting. While I had my Gore-Tex wind shirt and pants, I didn’t have much in he way of insulation aside from a couple shirts and a light fleece jacket. Standing or walking with that combination might work out but speeding along on a bike would be frigid. I knew trading the motorcycle for another vehicle was out of the question given the scarceness of working cars and trucks. Even crawling along on the bike, was better than walking and carrying a heavy pack. Next, I made sure to make dinner and ate a good meal along with as much water as I could stand. No doubt water would not be as plentiful or as clean from here on out. To avoid violating any hording directives, I made sure to make clear, witnessed trades for some items I needed. Mainly I wanted soups, dry packets if possible, to keep the weight down, and some vitamins. I had plenty of other foods still tucked away in my pack and vest. Then, I needed ammo and batteries for my lights. A hundred feet of paracord that I’d traded for got split between my vest and pack. The only gloves I had were a well-worn pair of Southwest Motor Sports Heat Grips. They were perfect for day-to-day chores and solid for weapons handling, but they offered little protection from the cold. A wool scarf and a fleece balaclava would have to do for head and face protection, along with a pair of shooting glasses. There was plenty of gear in the quartermaster’s store but I don’t think anyone was too keen on giving it up for someone that was leaving the city. Normally such items made a rotation through the teams of security personnel so there was some available for trade. I’d be taking it, if I could get what I needed. Ray apparently had spread the word to help me out as much as possible since I had donated a rifle and helped with the intelligence work on the Zs. The alarms went off again right at sunset. This time the probe was to the northwest, miles away from the last attack. The response was a little slower forming up and getting on the move this time. Darkness and cold, no doubt playing a part. No one wanted to face the enemy with the prospect of being out al night, and the darkness of the northwest area really spooked some of the members. Even though the area was lighted, it was not nearly as bright as the eastern sectors. And it was remote, offering less protection by way of suitable taller buildings to fall back to if a breach occurred. Why would the Zs attack there then, was my thought. There was little food value there, since very few humans inhabited that region. Something wasn't right here, but before I could find Ray, a half dozen trucks loaded with shooters sped off to intervene. It would take them at least 20 minutes, if all went well, to get into the area. Almost on cue, the alarms went off near the power station again. In a mad scramble, another assault force was thrown together. But, it took longer than normal to respond as the vehicles had to be found and loaded up. I saw immediately there was much work to be done in organizing and training these reaction teams. They had grown comfortable and complacent, hot lapping the same vehicles, instead of keeping 2 or even 3 sets maintained and used. Now, batteries needed to be jump-started, keys located and so forth. It was a mess. I silently wondered if the X-humans could think or remember that much detail. Had they been able to count vehicles and recognize vehicle types or colors? Had they the kind of communication system that allowed for this information to be passed over the distances between the breach points? It appeared so to me. God help us. As the first responders arrived in the northwest quadrant, they found little to draw their attention. The fence was intact, only adorned now with the smoldering, charred carcasses of a few completely dead Zs. The radio reports eased everyone’s mind to a larger assault, but there was still the problem addressing the power station. Bobby led the northwest group and was already headed back to base when another reported attempt on the fence behind him was taking place. Bobby decided not to respond, he wanted action and that was near the power plant. His six-vehicle convoy raced into the dark, heading east and trying to get to the fight before it was over. Along the way, members of the convoy could see hundreds of X-human zombies staggering in the barren landscape to their left. No one seemed too surprised since most of the decomposing enemy was still well clear of the fence and berm area. |
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Good chapter. I'm ready for Vern to move on and get out of that city though. Its in a bad place. The people aren't being proactive enough about killing the Zeds.
If I'm correct, he only has a couple hundred miles left before getting to his brothers house, correct? |
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Incredible story. Just love it.
Vern better be ready to bug out in a big fat hurry. Damn zombies went and got smart and the city officials do not have responders staged throught the safe zone. Thats a recipe for disaster. Im really looking forward to the next chapter Page 4 ownage in a great story
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Chances are, I am who pissed in their cheerios...
Joined:
Mar 2007
Posts:
1736
EE: 100% (4)
VA, USA
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Originally Posted By fast45:
He's leaving. But the surprises and suspense you'll have to wait for. Chapter 8 gets busy. well then get busy with chapter 8 and on and on, more! K.
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My conservative commonwealth's 232 year old state seal is a direct COC violation. Our founding fathers approved of images of bared breasts...
WWW.ASHBYARMS.COM
WWW.ASHBYARMS.COM
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Chapter 8
Breakthroughs A heavy frost greeted Annie as she stepped onto the back deck. The crunching ice made the morning seem that much colder. No weather reports were available in the mornings now and the only way to know how to dress for the day was to step out and feel the sun, and the wind on your face and the temperature on your skin. Making a long, steady sweep of the valley with binoculars, Annie thought of her husband, wishing he would step into view and end her worry. But he didn’t, like every morning of the past 7 months. She wouldn’t give up, even after overhearing some of the others talking, whispering the possibilities that Verne was gone. She couldn’t bring herself to let that kind of thought enter her mind. And Berne wasn’t giving up either. She trusted his feelings that Verne was still out there, somewhere. A small deer running across the frosted fields made her smile, remembering all the days she and her husband had taken coffee, watching nature all around them. Their backyard had been a gathering place for many wild animals and birds and it always calmed her. Today however, this deer wasn’t gently loping along, it was in a full gallop, hopping and leaping in great bounds. Annie watched it until it neared the tree line on the far side of the field where the doe made a sharp turn back out. Odd, Annie thought. The doe seemed confused; each turn towards the trees seemed to just as quickly change back to the open, featureless field. Finally, the doe raced straight up the hill toward the house, as if it had no fear of humans. In the time it took Annie to watch the deer fade away, several other animals had moved out of the trees and into the meadow. When Annie turned back, she let out a scream, more in horror than alarm. But it brought her family just the same. Berne slid open the patio door, feeling the chilled air on his face and hands. He didn’t have to ask Annie what was wrong; he could see that well enough on his own. Easily a hundred ashen skinned cannibals were already in the open ground, with more pouring out behind them from several directions. They still had a long way to go to get to the house or even up the slope. So far, none had been able to negotiate the incline with enough speed to avoid being picked off by one of the house’s defenders. Yet, there had never been this number and from so many directions. “Annie get everyone up and dressed. I’m going to see if I can slow down the closest ones,” he ordered. Berne grabbed a match grade M1A, topped with high magnification Nightforce scope along with a half dozen magazines. Using the deck railing for support, he aimed in on the first group of Zs, still more than 500 yards down the hill. At 14-power magnification, Berne could see every detail on the first target, a middle-aged man wearing mechanics coveralls. Fighting for balance, the man’s arms flailed in the air and Berne could see several of the man’s fingers were missing. It was a common injury, Berne thought, and guessed it came from the once vibrant being trying to fend off the attacking flesh eaters. Lifting up slightly, centering the scope on the target’s face, Berne fired, and watched, satisfied when the man fell back, spasming for a few seconds and finally died again. Only needing to move a few inches to find the next target, Berne fired again, adjusted and fired a third time. Each time he fired and looked for a result, he could see a downed Z, but one or more would emerge from the trees to take its place. A boom to his right caught his attention and he saw that Annie was back, firing at another group of approaching Zs. Within minutes, Ray, Juli and Ollie were also firing at the massing zombie army slowly trying to negotiate the vines and thickets at the edge of the fields below. None of the defenders were too concerned about the advancing mobs of undead in the open now. Those creatures that struggled through the brush would then have to stumble across the plowed but unplanted fields before ever getting to the base of the slope leading directly to the house. There were two sets of gates, one at the county road, out of sight from up here. The other gate was at the tree line and already had a teeming knot of Zs pushing against it. Berne and Annie shifted fire to that spot, while the others tried to knock down any Zs headed in that direction from the fields. The bodies were piling up along the driveway, but the sounds of gunfire were drawing more Zs. Up to this point, all the defenders had been using headshots but it was slower and allowing the deadly packs of zombies to gain territory. Berne switched rifles, allowing the M1A to cool down, and grabbed a Bushmaster AR15 carbine. There were enough targets that aiming wasn’t critical now and Berne fired to knock down as many as possible. Without legs, at least it would slow them down. “Head shots if you got ‘em, but anything to knock them down or slow them down’ll do” he shouted as he changed magazines. “Juli, can you go get more loaded mags for the AR rifles?” he called out. Juli was more than happy to get off the porch. The youngest of the family to survive, Juli was scared. She wasn’t good with guns, she didn’t like killing, and she couldn’t stand seeing the Zs, dead or really dead. Juli raced inside, down the stairs to the first floor and grabbed 2 cans Berne had marked, “AR MAGS, LOADED”, on white tape. She also stopped to grab a drink of water, her mouth and throat parched from fear. She didn’t want to go back up, knowing those things would only be closer now, their ugly, rotting faces coming into view. “Hurry up Jules!” Berne yelled from above. Hesitating for a second, she shook her head. She really was starting to dislike Berne. She found him pushy and rude. She thought he talked down to her because she wasn’t more aggressive like the others. Several times she’d wanted to leave, things really weren’t as bad as they started off. There hadn’t been near as many monsters as in the city. Maybe they had died or changed back to real people. “Come on Juli!” Berne yelled again. “I’m coming! These things are heavy you know?” she fired back. “Asshole” she muttered much less vocally. Lugging the cumbersome cans up the stairs; she dropped them at Berne’s feet. He tore into the first box and pulled out a stack of magazines. “Here, give these to my dad, then go get two more cans!” he ordered, shoving the loaded mags at her. The fire in her eyes went unseen; Berne had already turned back to more serious things and resumed shooting. With a grunt, Juli stomped back down the stairs. Nineteen scrawny, skeletal X-humans stood shoulder to shoulder less than a foot away from the fence. More than 40 more stacked up behind them, with hundreds more a few yards back, waiting their turn to surge forward. A tall, blond man walked forward and bellowed out a long guttural series of tones and the 19 stepped into the fence. Arms outstretched, they locked their gnarled fingers into the wire, instantly snapping rigid as the electricity roared into them. The thinner ones began to pop and smoke, dropping to their knees or collapsing face first into the mesh. The 40 moved forward in one foul-smelling knot, pushing into the smoldering, blackened bodies in front of them. The pressure on the fence and the heat began to sag it. A hundred more X-humans lumbered forward, adding their weight and strength until the section of fence buckled and gave way. Their leader didn’t smile or show any emotions, he just turned his head to the throng of massing flesh hungry beings and let out a screech. They flowed forward, trampling over the bodies of their fallen brethren. The push began to widen the disabled fence, opening the gap. In a few minutes, more than a thousand blood-starved carnivores were in the control zone, spreading out in search of food. Bobby had ignored the first call to check the attempt on the fence. But now, the word was that the fence was down, and he had to respond. Now, his convoy was more than half way across the control zone, thirty minutes or more from the new breech at highway speeds. Frustrated, he turned around, knowing he was letting X-humans get in at the power station, but knowing any breach was dangerous. Other security people were on scene at the power station and he hadn’t heard them call for help, so reluctantly he headed back to the northwest sector. I was kitted up and realized my departure was going to be delayed yet again if these alarms kept up overnight. I decided to check in with Ray, finding his and his staff in the command center. Simon was there too, but busy sending runners to different section chiefs and frantically pacing to and fro with a walkie-talkie to his ear. Ray waved me over, looking up from the flat maps on his desk. “You busy?” he asked. “Nope. Figured I’d hang around and see what I could do.” I responded. “All my best shooters are out right now. I’d like to get a reaction force set up. Can you head up a section and hang close? Simon can get someone to outfit you with radios and whatever else you need.” Ray explained. “Done.” I replied. Simon snapped his fingers, getting the attention of a young man nearby. He pointed to the lad and then to me and waved the kid over to me. We left the room, me giving the kid a quick list of items I needed. Berne felt the bolt lock back on the empty mag, and reached for another, finding the box was empty. “Juli! Where’s the ammo?” he yelled, more than a little perturbed with her lack of urgency. He shot Ollie a look of anger and disapproval, while shifting back to the M1A. “Come on Jules, we’re running a bit low.” Ollie called out, trying to get her moving and him off the hot seat. “I’m coming,” she snapped, huffing and grunting with two more boxes. She dumped them on the deck and dropped down in a chair, acting exhausted. Ollie tried to give her a look that told her to keep moving before Berne or Annie saw her. But it was too late. “Come here Juli.” Annie sternly ordered. Shaking her head, Juli grunted and got up, stepping over to her boyfriend’s sister. “Take a look out there.” Annie said, pointing to the valley. Juli missed what Annie wanted her to see, to realize. That they were completely surrounded escaped Juli’s grasp; instead she saw scores of still bodies littering the grounds below her. “OH MY GOD! You’re just killing them all!” she blurted out. Everyone else on the deck stopped and spun around to face the naïve young lady. Ollie’s face flushed, knowing his family had not missed her stupid comment. The people that had taken him in and fed him and accepted him were now being accused of murder. The stupid girl was missing the point that Ollie’s older sister was trying to get her to understand. They were surrounded and under assault from people, these killing things, that weren’t going to stop to talk it over. They were coming with the taste of blood in their mouths and on their minds. Ollie was surprised at Annie’s patience. It actually took several seconds of stunned disbelief at Juli’s comment before Annie slapped her. It wasn’t a nice, wake up slap. It was a rock your socks, knock you on you ass slap. And Ollie couldn’t, heck, at this point he wouldn’t intervene. “Look you spoiled, little, ignorant brat. If you can’t shoot, which you can’t, you haul ammo. Or water or make sandwiches if someone tells you to. And if you can’t pull those jobs, you aren’t worth a damn to anyone here. If you want, if your sensibilities are so assaulted by what we have to do to survive, you can take your chances out there.” Annie spat, pointing again to the gathering beings closing in all around them. “Whatever you do, do it now, or pick out one of those things and talk them in to surrender,” she added, once again directing Juli’s attention over the railing. But, don’t you dare just lay there crying about it!” Annie finished, with a little more venom and contempt. Juli looked to Ollie for support, but he was already turning and began to fire on the advancing army of undead dead. Ray just tilted his head to one side and gently shrugged his shoulders, and turned away as well. Annie extended her hand and looked at Juli. Juli grabbed it and pulled herself up. “Sorry” she whispered and went back in the house. The progress was slow but visible in the afternoon, the tide of dead turning to a trickle. The greatest concentration had come at the driveway gate where so many bodies had piled up; no more could walk to the cattle fence panel across the road. The excess that tried to go around either side were cut down in equally staggering numbers. Annie and Ollie worked on those in the fields while Ray and Berne held the dead at bay on the driveway. The weather had slowed everything down as a cold, light rain turned the fields to a mud bog; even the Zs were unable to cope with. Every fifteen minutes, one of the shooters would go in to warm up, drink some water or coffee. Juli had made some snack sandwiches and everyone grabbed a few of those too. On his break, Juli told Berne there were no more cans of loaded magazines. Surprised, Berne went down stairs to see. He returned with several brown plastic bags and tossed them on the table. “We’ll have to load some then from these battle packs. If you get a chance, grab a bunch of the empty mags off the deck and I’ll show you how” he said with a smile, hoping for her cooperation and not another fight. Bobby’s armed convoy started running into the advance stragglers of the zombie force more than a mile from the breach point. He could see they were spreading out quickly and for as far as his headlights shone, he could see movement. He ordered the drivers to pull up side by side to take up the roadway and used the trucks to run down the X-humans they could not shoot. It was hopeless, too many come through the downed fence and he didn’t have nearly enough men or ammunition to get them all. Besides these things were already into the side streets and among the buildings and houses. He called Ray on the radio and gave him the bad news. Ray ordered Bobby and his teams to proceed to the breach and do what they could to plug the hole while he sent for a couple big end loaders to start that way. If Bobby could stanch the flow, reinforcements would work into the area to start killing as many Zs as they could on the way. The priority was to get the fence back together, then mop up intruders. Bobby knew what had to be done. He just didn’t believe it was enough this time. The X-humans were too many. But one thing that Bobby did well and liked doing was to destroy these savage, ravenous creatures. His people had mobility and firepower on their side and he readjusted the convoy formation. “In a tight, single file guys, and watch for my stops. One block at a time, we pull up and kill anything to either side, then move up again,” he told the drivers over the walkie-talkie. The six drivers fell into line and pulled up tightly together. With spotlights to the sides, they rolled forward, each truck’s load of shooters facing outboard. Bobby wasn’t concerned about killing every X-human; he only wanted to get as many as possible in each bound until they got to the breach. There were plenty of targets for his experienced teams of gunmen, but the sheer numbers were discouraging. The first stop went well for a few minutes as his men dropped dozens of Zs. It was hard to tell when to move since so many Zs were staggering past, almost oblivious to the trucks or the warm bodied shooters. It was too easy and too tempting to sit here and kill them in great batches. These deadly creatures seemed bent on walking straight past them, headed for the school area. Bobby tried the radio, to let Ray know what was coming. Being between several taller buildings, the signal couldn’t get through and he ordered his driver to pull up, forgetting to let the other trucks know he was moving. Still on the radio, he listened for a voice to let him know his message was getting through. Several men in the other trucks had dismounted to take up better firing positions or safely shoot away from the their friends. The driver of the second vehicle saw Bobby’s lead vehicle lurch forward, and he quickly followed, not wanting to get separated. Men in the back yelled for him to stop so everyone could get back aboard. The third truck driver was already moving ahead slowly when he noticed Bobby’s truck take off. He was pulling up after having seen the second truck move too, not seeing that it had abruptly stopped. As men clamored to get aboard truck 2, the third truck slammed into it from behind, crushing two men and knocking a third shooter to the shoulder of the road. Instantly, every man did what they instinctively do in such matters, they helped their injured comrades. Men raced to the injured men and tried to help as panicked screams rang out from those hurt in the collision. Almost everyone had stopped shooting, their attention now to help each other and get ready to move. The screams also drew attention, as the wandering mobs of dead were alerted and changed course. By now, Bobby’s truck was hundreds of yards ahead, his driver concentrating on maneuvering around the straggling, stumbling packs of undead corpses streaming down the road. The other 5 trucks were still together, but now stopped and in an all out battle for survival, surrounded by hundreds of X-human zombies. Trucks 4,5, and 6 had pulled up, flanking the wounded and trying to cut down the enemy who came at them from every direction. The first security member to be taken was the man struck by the truck. After rolling to a stop on the side of the road, he found he couldn’t stand, the blow from the truck had struck his lower back and compressed nerves, causing temporary paralysis. The temporary part was long enough that the X-humans closed on him and he screamed in agony as he was ripped apart, the first fresh flesh many of these cannibals had tasted in months. The feeding frenzy ignited and howls and growls erupted, echoing in the alleys and off the buildings nearby, drawing even more of the hungry killers. Their leader did nothing to get them back on track, knowing somehow that this feast would be short-lived. The security force tactics broke down and men fired wildly in all directions trying to save themselves. Many climbed atop the trucks for a few seconds more time to fire and move. Here and there, rifles went empty and shooters were engulfed in a swarm of flailing arms and bony fingers before they could reload. Some men panicked and ran, hoping to avoid capture, however brief, before being consumed, often still alive during the gorging. But there was no place to run, so many of the X-humans converging that escape was impossible. Jimmy Lassiter, driver of truck 6 made it inside the truck and slammed the door shut, even as one of the creatures gripped onto his bicep. The bony hand held him fast, severed by the closing door. Jimmy fought to release it. Finally able to wrench it free, he turned the ignition to power the windows and closed them as the attack continued. He was safe for the moment, except for the screams, the heart-rending, terrified screams of his companions. A thud on the roof told him that someone else was still alive as Jimmy gunned the engine, preparing to take flight. “HOLD ON!” Jimmy yelled, as he jerked the shifter to drive and mashed on the throttle. Another heavy thud on the roof, Jimmy assumed his passenger had dropped prone to stay on as he pulled away. Whipping the steering wheel to the left, he turned to flee from the carnage, his headlights sweeping across the road in a wide, white swath. All he could see were zombies; many hunched down over bloody piles that he knew had once been his friends. Arms outstretched, they grabbed at him, staggering piles of bones and skin wrapped in the tattered remnants of clothing, wanting to add his meaty flesh to their dinner. As he turned he saw a few of his comrades, locked in desperate singular battles, some using knives, others left only with their bare hands to defend themselves. All showed signs that they had been bitten multiple times and Jimmy knew he could not save any of them. Laying on the horn, he hoped to distract the foes, to give his friends and companions even a few seconds of precious time to escape if he was wrong. Jimmy braked hard to avoid colliding with a light pole and to shift into four-wheel drive. Having forgotten his passenger, his sudden stop caused his roof-borne rider to tumble onto the hood in front of him. Jimmy recoiled when an X-human form bounced past the windshield. A large man in what was left of a police uniform pulled itself to its knees, facing Jimmy, showing a mouthful of yellowed teeth dripping with black slime. Salivating at the prospect of biting into Jimmy’s throat, the man raised both arms overhead and smashed them down violently on the windshield. The glass buckled, indenting in, instantly spider-webbing across its entire length. Hundreds of small cubes of sharp glass and powder-fine chips flew at Jimmy, filling the cab of the truck. Jimmy reversed, seeing the policeman fall backward, off the truck, as the first bits of glass cut into his eyes. Instinctively, Jimmy’s hands came up to rub away the irritant, only causing them to become imbedded. Fighting to keep his eyes open, he resisted further attempts t dislodge the glass. Feeling the truck bounce over a few bodies brought his thoughts back to his escape. Still reversing, Jimmy knew it was safer. He had a clear view behind him, the window glass there was undamaged and no more glass or dust from the front could blow into his face. He knew also that he wouldn’t puncture the radiator running backwards. It was working; he could see less of the hungry throngs of dead as he flew backwards down the road. Turning right, he backed down a side street; happy to see it was empty and dark. Backing into a carport, he jumped out, rifle in hand, and checked the roof for any more surprises. It was clear and so he climbed onto the hood and used the rifle butt to knock away the rest of the useless windshield. Using a stocking hat, he brushed away as much of the glass fragments and powder as he could. Bobby fought the dead man’s hand off the edge of the door, and then shouldered it open, knocking the would-be killer down. The driver had tried to flee when the truck bogged down under the weight of the X-humans flooding towards him. He was pulled through the crowd, bony hands clawing to get a piece of his warm flesh. Bobby and the other three survivors were surrounded, briefly sheltered inside the confines of the Blazer. The truck rocked back and forth, the undead mob fighting to get in for a bite. Jumping to the driver’s seat, Bobby fired up the engine and shifted to four-wheel drive, then slapped the shifter into low. The truck lurched forward and he realized his mistake and went into reverse. There were less of them there and he accelerated. Picking up speed, he fought to keep the truck in a straight line, so many bodies smacking into the wheels they were knocking the truck around. The visibility to the rear was almost gone, the windows smeared with so much foul slime as the zombies smacked into the glass. The thuds and bumps lessened as the truck continued backward, now within sight of the rest of the convoy’s lights. There was no reason to stop, even if Bobby had been inclined to. No sounds of the living men shooting or shouting or defending themselves could be heard. They were all gone, nothing more now that bloody spots on the concrete. Cranking the wheel hard, Bobby spun the truck around, knocking down a few of the undead. Finally able to move unhindered, Bobby accelerated towards the safety of the school, passing the advance legions of the dead. There was little else he could do but run, get back and warn the others of the coming onslaught. |
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I was a little confused reading it, as the section breaks aren't spaced far enough in my opinion. maybe trying 3 line spacing instead of 2 would clear this up for the other readers.
Good chapter. I feel bad for that little convoy, because so many of them died. Too bad they didn't prepare better. Is everyone at the school? Is that the regular meeting place? I just figured it was a place to get food and such, so I'm definitely wondering why the zombies are moving toward it. |
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Can't wait for chapter 9!!!
ETA: Just noticed someone got you a membership! Grats, I was going to buy you one after I read Volume 1 |
"...experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed."
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Actually, I got myself a membership. Figured it was only fair, giving all the information Ive garnered here over the years.
Now, if I had time to figure out how to add a picture, I'd share a few. But work is busy, business has been busier and trying to write too, pretty much fills the days. Glad the stories are so well received. Lots more written, just have to proof it all. |
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Fast, your story kicks ass it is one of the best i have read!!
I hope the city can hold out it would be a nice deviation from most other stories! but either way i will enjoy reading whatever happens
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Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you: 1. Jesus Christ 2. The American GI, One died for your soul, the other for your freedom". Tony Blair
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MOAR! This story is awesome. I have thoroughly enjoyed it, and just want to read more.
Fast45, you are good, sir. I like the style, the imagery, the way you've conveyed suspense and terror, all of it. You sir definitely have "the knack", and should be published. You asked for criticism: minor spelling, things like that. Very minor issues. Your writing is very good. Please don't make us wait too long for MOAR! I'm hooked now, I'll admit.
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كافر All the way.