“Only ten? I would have liked to have had more. The other beakers wouldn’t hold the rag well, so I don’t think they would work.”
“Ten should be fine. The Humvee isn’t that far. We get to that, we can get out of here.”
“And go where?”
“From what I saw of the map, that side road should take us out to one of the smaller roads, where we’ll probably meet county law enforcement. They will be less likely to shoot on sight when they see us coming, and I may be able to talk us through.”
“Yes, but they will have more people at the outer perimeter. They’ll be regular army with orders not to let anyone through.”
“Let’s make it there first. Then we’ll worry about it.”
The doctor nodded and went to work on creating the cocktails.
* * * *
“Are you sure you’re ready for this? Once we open the door, there is no turning back,” Westdale said as he looked at the back trailer door, then to the scientist standing behind him. The man was fidgeting back and forth, obviously nervous.
“Yes. We need to go.”
They both knew they needed to get out of there quickly, and once that door was open, they needed to make sure they were right about their plan. It was their lives they were risking, but they couldn’t stay there and hope for reinforcements because Westdale knew none were coming. He had known it when he realized how many of those things were now surrounding them, and more were coming. Thankfully, from what they could see on the cameras, the things seemed to be concentrating on the other side of the truck, where the other door was…where he had come into the trailer. Did the things remember that? He wasn’t sure, but it seemed strange they chose to gather around there, rather than around the whole trailer.
It was another question, something else he would have to try and remember to note down if they got out of there.
Westdale stopped studying the smaller man standing there with one of the overnight bags slung onto his back. It wasn’t easy with the suits, and it was going to be hard if he was going to grab the cocktails, but that wasn’t the plan. They both had bags on their backs, and had cut open small holes, just large enough to easily fit a gloved hand into. They were set up that way so they could grab a cocktail from the other person and vice versa.
Westdale hoped the doctor’s idea of doing it that way worked. It was a good teamwork solution, but he would feel a hell of a lot more comfortable not having to rely on the doctor. He could see him running off at the first sign of trouble. Westdale didn’t know him, didn’t know if he trusted him, but was now having to trust the guy with his life…like his platoon had relied on him. They had relied on his being there to have their back and when that time had come, where had he been? He had stayed there, safe in the lab. He had listened to their pleading for him, his commander ordering him to come out there and help. Where had he been? But that was unfair. What could he have done? Gone out there, only to die with them?
“I wasn’t even supposed to be here today,” Westdale groaned as he took a deep breath and raised his hand up to the door lock.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just a line from a movie. Seemed appropriate.”
“Oh.”
No, he was supposed to be there. He wasn’t from there, he didn’t know these people, but he had felt something that morning, even before he had gotten the call. Something had been pulling him there. He didn’t know what it was, just some guiding force. In the back of his mind, he had felt the urge. He was supposed to be there. Why? So he could die? He didn’t know, but he was in the right place at the right time.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Fire ready?”
“Yes.”
“Light it up.”
The doctor had been holding the first cocktail in his hand, a little butane torch in his other. They were thankful they had found it because neither one of them were smokers and carried a lighter. With a click and then a puff, Westdale heard the torch light up as he reached for the latch and started to lift up.
Time to go to war, he thought, as he yanked up, then turned the handle. He grabbed the cocktail and turned, the dim light barely showing anything in the growing darkness outside.
The bright light from inside had made him night-blind. As he cursed himself for not thinking about that, he heard the first of the things, then saw the pale arm reaching for his feet. He stepped back, barely keeping his balance in the large suit, then caught himself and stomped down. He knew the thing wouldn’t flail back from the pain, but it was more instinct than anything else.
“Get back!” Bernard yelled from behind him. He knew what the doctor wanted to do, but they were still too close to the truck. If they threw their first cocktail there, they would be trapped back inside the trailer.
“Not yet!” Westdale yelled. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have to yell, that the radio headsets between their suits would clearly transmit their voices.
His foot slammed down. He was missing the things hand, but it was also not able to grab onto his suit. He wasn’t sure which he was trying for more…to stomp on the thing, or to just keep it from grabbing him.
His eyes adjusted and he could see it was grabbing for him while trying to pull itself into the trailer. It was bending over, trying to wriggle its way up there. It wasn’t trying to climb, didn’t seem to have figured that out yet, but it seemed to know how to writhe and work its way forward.
Westdale took another step back, getting out of the reach of the thing, studying around him. The armored Humvee was twenty paces away, not really that far, so they could easily run for it once they got out the trailer. There was only three of the things between here and there.
However, now that the door was open, he saw those three were coming their way, and he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he could hear scuttling sounds, like dragging feet on gravel. He was afraid the others from around the front of the truck were already coming around.
“We’re getting boxed in,” he said.
“Well, what are you going to do?”
What was he going to do? Damn, why did it come down to what he was going to do? He didn’t want to call the shots; he didn’t want to make the decisions. How the hell had he ever gotten in the position where he was in charge?
Well, if there was ever a time to take a stupid risk, he guessed it was now. Damn, this was going to be stupid. If he ever made it through this, when he told his kids about it, at least he could say he fought zombies and kicked their asses.
Yeah, Don, you got to make it out of this and have kids first, dumbass, he thought.
With that thought running through his head, and hoping like hell it wasn’t going to be the last thing he ever thought, he ran forward and jumped off the edge of the trailer.
He landed hard and made sure to try and roll with it. He had jumped away from the largest group of the things, jumping to the right of the back of the trailer, but there had been only gravel to soften his fall. As he rolled with it, that large oxygen regulator on his back caught on the ground. He tried to continue rolling, feeling the pain pushing in on his back. His knees felt like he had taken a hammer to them. Then he was on his stomach, using his gloved hands to push himself up.
Now it was time to see just how stupid he really was.
He stood and turned around, already backing away. Bernard was still standing in the back of the trailer. Westdale couldn’t see the expression on his face, but he was sure the blood had rushed from it and the man was looking at him in exasperation. He had already learned it really didn’t take too much to rattle him. The man was smart and was doing a good job under the pressure, but he always seemed to have that moment when he’d get caught by surprise.
The things had all turned and were now looking at him. They didn’t seem to react too quickly to change, either. Good. That meant he should be able to outmaneuver them. Right now, he was only thinking about getting them far enough away from the Humvee and the trailer that he would be able
to take out a few of them with one of the cocktails.
“You ready with one of them?”
“What?!”
“You ready with the cocktail?”
“You want me to throw it?”
He heard the voice, obviously surprised. Westdale had also thought he would have been the one to throw the damn things, but there wouldn’t have been a way for him to make that jump and still hold onto one. Did the scientist not realize that was why he had handed the thing back to him beforehand?
Well, actually, he had probably thought he had handed it back to him to light it. Westdale hadn’t thought about that. He had just gone and done it, then jumped out the back. He didn’t think they had time to think about it too much.
“Yes! Throw it!”
Westdale saw that the three were now fully coming towards him, completely having forgotten about Bernard in the trailer. Good, he was luring them away. He was working his way towards the streetlight, stepping backward so he was getting closer and closer to the light. Bernard, on the other hand, was kind of hidden by the bright light of the trailer behind him. He also wasn’t moving that much.
He had a brief thought and wondered just how well these things saw. Their eyes were completely white. Could they really see him, or did they just sense him? How were they identifying he was the one to follow?
He took another step back, the gravel crunching under his boot. He could see them as they came closer to him. He was making it farther and farther away from the Humvee, but he still knew he could get around them easily enough and get to the vehicle. They moved so slow, he could easily run around them.
There was more coming, though. He could see about ten of them at the side of the trailer. They had all been along the side and near the front of the truck, but were now facing him and stumbling towards him. He wouldn’t want to make it around these three just to run straight into them. He would want to go around and to the right side. There was that wooded border of the parking lot, so he had no way to know if there were any over there, but even if some emerged, he was sure he would see them in time to avoid them.
He was still studying the situation when a loud whoosh of air seemed to warm up suddenly in front of him, then he felt like he was engulfed in the flame. Fire was showering up in the path between him and the Humvee, the intensity nearly pushing him back. His vision was gone, and all he could see was white, black stars, and shifting shapes.
Then he felt the ground make sudden compact with his ass. He hadn’t been pushed back by the explosion, but had been so blinded, he had just fallen back and had not even tried to catch himself. The impact sent shockwaves up his spine. His teeth ground together, and he could feel a wetness at the corner of his eyes as he fought down the pain.
“Are you okay?” He heard Bernard's voice crackle with worry over the radio.
“Yeah,” Westdale grit out through clenched teeth. Just how close had the bastard gotten to him? He really didn’t want to think about it. He could feel the flames, and his vision was still just shapes. The whiteness had faded away, but everything was dark with vague shapes now, and he didn’t even know if he could trust that those were really there. “Did you get one?”
“No. I missed.”
“We can’t be wasting them.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I was never any good with sports.”
“Really?” The sarcasm was rich in Westdale’s voice as he forced himself back up, trying to blink away the blindness. “I can’t see. Are any of them close to me?”
He knew he was staggering nearly as bad as one of them now.
“Um, not really. I missed the zombies, but I got it between them and you. They have to go through quite a bit of it to get to you.”
“And they’re not?”
“No. They are just kind of staggering around, not getting any closer.”
Westdale’s vision cleared enough that he could make out more of the shapes. With how bright the flame was, night had become day, and he wasn’t sure if he was getting his vision back because his eyes were getting better, or because the flame was starting to die down. He wasn’t sure what had been in that bottle. He knew Bernard had made cocktails out of different chemicals he had found, and had told him different ones would have different results. This one had been a bright white flame, and had been hot enough that even through the suit, Westdale had thought his face would burn off. He didn’t want to know what would have happened if he hadn’t been in the suit.
He could see that the things were on the other side of the flames. They couldn’t get to him or, at least, they weren’t willing to risk it. That was good for him, but he could already see that one of them was turning back around to Bernard.
“Get out of there! Get to the Humvee and get in!”
“Wh-,” he had started to say, but then the private saw him moving. He must have seen that the things were turning back towards him.
“All units, prepare for inbound. M.O.A.B. is en route. E.T.A is twenty minutes. All units, prepare for inbound,” Westdale heard over his radio. It was quiet, and he doubted it had been intended for him. It had probably been a mistake sending it out to all military channels, but that didn’t matter. He knew what it meant. He knew they had to get out of there now. If they didn’t, there would be no help coming for them.
“What does that mean? What’s M.O.A.B?” Bernard asked.
Westdale had been watching as the man climbed down from the back of the truck. He hadn’t even tried to jump, but just gingerly worked his way down, using the back step to come down as gently as he could. Even with the things coming back at him, he wasn’t going to risk hurting himself.
“Trouble. We need to go,” Westdale said, already breaking into a run to the Humvee. As soon as he did, the three things turned towards him. He was sidestepping around the flame, keeping his distance by a couple feet. The doctor had warned him the chemicals, if they got on him, would turn him into a human torch, suit or not. He wasn’t willing to risk that.
The heat from the blaze was dying down. As he ran, he saw that a fourth one was turning back to him. He was running towards the Humvee as fast as he could in the suit. They seemed to be ignoring Bernard again. Why the hell were the things so damned focused on him? What did he have that they wanted? Unless they knew something he didn’t.
Westdale took a second to look back over at the scientist, who was slowly moving towards the Humvee. The man acted like he was trying to stalk over to it, like he was a cat burglar. He was hunched over, taking each step slowly and gingerly. The man was a scientist. He had been with them, but hadn’t gone into that other room. Whatever the hell these things were, they had to have been created by something. It was kind of strange that, all of a sudden, these things were just there.
Just what did the man know, and why were the things not going after him?
Westdale pushed the thought out of his mind. He couldn’t be wasting his time thinking about anything like that now. Even if the doctor did have something to do with this, it just meant Westdale should stay close to him. It was a sense that if the doctor was involved with this shit, he would have a way of making it out alive. The closer Westdale stayed with him, the more likely he would get out, too.
He made it to the Humvee first and quickly pulled open the heavy armor of the door, sliding into the seat. The darkness inside was comforting, and the little bit of coolness in there was a soft feeling of relief. Something about being in an armored vehicle filled him with a sense of security. They weren’t out yet, but they were one step closer.
The engine roared to life in a diesel-fueled fury. He was checking the gauges when the passenger door opened and the doctor was fumbling to get in. The man was maneuvering, trying to squirm and wiggle, but between the tank and the bag of cocktails on his back, he was making it more difficult for himself than it had to be.
Grabbing a knife he knew was kept by the seat, he reached out and quickly cut off the bag from the scientist’s back. It came free, and he pushed it into the back se
at. Then he reached out and pulled the man in, making him land roughly.
“Watch out! Don’t break those. Some of them would react badly if they got mixed.”
“Close the door!”
Westdale was already putting the large vehicle into gear and enjoying the feel as it shot forward. The first two zombies in its way quickly slammed against the front of the Humvee. As the heavy vehicle bounced over them, Westdale felt a wave of exhilaration at knowing that was two less they had to worry about.
The doctor was still fighting with his door as Westdale pulled the vehicle onto the street. Okay. They were in, they were moving, but he had to figure out which way was the way out. He knew the map of the place. He had looked it over before they had come into town, but looking at everything now, in the dark with only the limited streetlights illuminating their way, he just wasn’t sure where they were going.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Bernard asked him as he finally pulled his door closed.
“I have a rough idea of the streets.”
“So that would be a no.”
No, you damned asshole. I do know where I’m going, but I just don’t know where to find the road to start out on. It should be just up here on the left, and then we’ll be shooting out through one of the minor roads that just the locals are watching. Westdale wanted to scream it at the man, but just bit down the comment and took a deep breath. “We just have to find Walnut Street. It leads straight out of town.”
“Okay.” It was weak. He knew the doctor wanted to say more.
The small roads raced by, the tiny street signs flying by faster than either one of them could read them. He wanted to slow down, but there were just more and more of the things around him. He saw them coming from the streets, some stumbling out of houses, some just in the middle of the street. He slowed down just enough to be able to either hit them without tearing into the armor of the vehicle, not that it would do any damage, or maneuver around the things.
The town was lost. There were too many of them. It must have spread quickly. Why hadn’t they seen any of them when they had come into town? They had just seemed to let them in and then, now, there they were. How had they missed all of this?
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