“Just remember this,” Clayton shouted. “It’s always darkest before it goes pitch black.”
Jo let out a little chuckle, but Henry remained stoic.
That’s when the gate fell forward onto the top of the bulldozer, acting almost like a giant see-saw, tossing zombies into the field and also inward, spilling zombies onto the ground. Some of the impacts were ugly, cracking skulls, and breaking bones. A few fortunate zombies fell on their fellow deaders, softening the collision with the unforgiving hard-packed dirt inside the gate.
Henry’s knees went weak, and he almost collapsed, but Jo caught him.
“I guess that will get them moving,” Henry said as he rallied and found his footing, standing up straight.
Henry was right. The people moping off the field and toward the north wall picked up their pace when they spotted zombies inside the gate. Dramatically. One might even call it running.
A few looked back, and a couple of them broke from the line and stepped aside. They seemed uncertain about whether to run with the pack to head back to the gate or to provide support. These few were in the minority. A smaller subset of them actually started back, but most reconsidered and returned to running with the mob, making a hasty exit stage left.
The zombies that had been tossed inside seemed disoriented after rolling across the ground, but they were quickly regaining their composure, that is if a zombie had composure. The bottom line was they were staggering to the feet. A couple didn’t make it as their legs had been broken when they had been thrown inside. Well, that and their collision with the ground. Still, they were gamers despite the broken bones, but that didn’t matter as their injuries were very real. They fell face-first into the dirt, slowing them down considerably. Still, they started crawling toward any human within their eyesight, driven by their insatiable hunger.
The men around the bulldozer felt the most immediate threat and trained their weapons on the zombies and fired away. Bullets flew hot and fast, and the humans won the first round, but there were many rounds to come, and those rounds would start coming faster and faster.
“Jo, you need me on the gate!” Clayton yelled up to Jo and Henry on the wall.
“The men on their way with the wood to prop up the door,” Bonds said.
“Get them here now,” Clayton said as he loaded up the .50 caliber gun[4].
“There they are,” Bonds said, overflowing with relief.
Six men carrying lumber had skidded to a stop as they gawked at the dead zombies littering the ground just inside the gate. The sight was a bit of a showstopper.
A lone surviving zombie crawled out of the pile of bodies, and a second later, a rip of bullets zippered along the ground and ripped the zombie in two.
All eyes went to the source, which was Clayton’s big .50 caliber gun with smoke rolling off the barrel.
“Get that wood up here and do it fucking now,” Clayton said when he turned to the set of men who been frozen in their tracks. “Jo, I need someone to drive.”
Like the men, Jo had been spellbound by the ferocious display of firepower from Clayton’s big gun, but she shook it off and turned to Henry. “Can you handle things up here?”
Henry didn’t look one hundred percent ready, but he said, “Yeah.”
Jo pointed toward Molly, who was standing fifteen feet away, making sure she was both close and far away from Henry. “You’re going to need her.”
A dark cloud of expressions passed over Henry’s face, rolling like a summer storm.
“I know,” Jo said, “I know she shot your mom, but you need her. Right now, you do.”
“Are you coming, or do I have to drive and shoot at the same time?” Clayton shouted.
“I’m on my way,” Jo said, but stepped closer to Henry. “We have to push our feelings down sometimes and get on. To survive. For all of us to survive. Okay?”
Henry dropped his gaze for a moment but looked back up to Jo and nodded his head.
“First order of business,” Jo said, “get guns on the gate. Gotta go.”
She went in motion and nearly slid down the ladder and hit the ground running. She made it to the Humvee just as the men with the lumber arrived.
“You guys know what you’re doing?” Clayton said as Jo climbed into the driver’s seat.
To a man, they all looked up at Clayton with vacuous expressions.
“We’re moving, and you're placing that wood against this big honking door to prop it up against this damn hole in the wall,” Clayton said. He let that sink in and said, “Yeah, I know it won’t hold, but we need more time, so just do it.” He slapped his hand on the top of the Humvee. “Jo, are you ready to move?”
She revved up the engine and said, “Yeah.” She stuck her head out the driver’s window and shouted up to Henry. “You need to let the people up at the front gate know that the zombies are coming in soon.”
Henry gave Jo an exaggerated thumbs-up, thinking that ‘soon’ had passed. The zombies were inside.
“And tell Kent to get ready,” Jo shouted.
“Kent, get ready,” Henry said. He felt stupid saying those simple words but knew Kent wasn’t paying much attention to what else was going on.
Up until that moment, Kent had been focused on using the big metal blade on the bulldozer. He worked it in an attempt to do what he could to keep the zombies from getting inside, and he was doing a good job, but it was a losing battle. The zombies just hadn’t become smart enough to know that if they put enough pressure on the broken door, they could push it open. So, the humans inside had that going for them, but they also knew that it wouldn’t last. And it clearly didn’t because the gate was lying flat on the ground.
A couple of zombies were attempting to climb over the blade and had even gotten a portion of the torso over the edge of it. The men on the ground looked ready to run but somehow found the courage to fire on the climbers, knocking them back over the blade.
Jo leaned out the driver’s window and said, “On three.” She let a pregnant pause hang in the air for a long moment, then said, “One, two, three…”
Chapter 92
The Final Solution
Someone pounded on the door, but Doc Wilson was ready for it this time. Karen Gray was not. She nearly shrieked. She stifled it, and it came out more like a yelp.
Doc Wilson was on his feet and moving toward the door while she cowered behind a table.
Whoever was outside became very impatient because they hit it three times, and they put some gusto into it.
“I’m coming,” Doc Wilson shouted. Two steps later, he was at the door and undoing the locks.
Sounding out of breath, Mason pushed his way inside. “Doc, we’ve got to get you out of here.” He looked over Doc Wilson’s shoulder and saw Karen Gray with eyes wide with fear. “And her, too.”
“What is happening?” Karen Gray asked.
“The zombies are getting inside the walls,” Mason said.
“Oh,” was all Doc Wilson said. He knew it was always a possibility, but he and the people he’d been with had always dodged the bullet. Always gotten away by the skin of their teeth. Sure, they’d lost people, but more had survived. This was bad, and he knew it.
When he looked across the laboratory, he saw Sergeant Jones on one gurney, bandages across his body where the shrapnel from the RPG had hit. He was going to make it. The wounds weren’t superficial, by any means, but he’d survive.
It was a different story when he let his gaze fall on Grayson. The damage done to him was catastrophic. There was no coming back from that. The doctor knew he could keep him alive, but not if they were on the move. Besides, it would take two people to manage each one of them.
“We can only take one of them,” Doc Wilson said.
Mason shot him a look that said, like there’s a choice?
“It’s not that cut and dry,” Doc Wilson said. “Sure, he’s done some terrible things, but it was while he was under the influence of something he had no control of.”
>
“Then just leave him and let nature take its course,” Mason said.
Doc Wilson reached up and rubbed his forehead for a moment. “There’s a limited chance of him surviving on his own, but if we leave him here, he will slowly starve if we can’t get back. He can’t move at all.”
“There are no good choices, but I have to be totally honest with you, Doc,” Mason said, “I don’t give a shit if that thing makes it or not.”
Doc Wilson sighed, then said, “He’s not what he was.”
“If it comes down to him and the Sergeant, then I’m one hundred percent behind saving Jones.”
Karen Gray cleared his throat and then said, “Doctor Wilson, I’m with Mason. We must do what we can to save the Sergeant.”
Doc Wilson felt like he stood in a no-man’s-land. There were no good options. Back when he was an emergency room doctor, he had to make these types of choices. Who lives, who dies. Who gets to keep an arm or leg, and who loses it?
“You know what you have to do,” a hoarse voice spoke from the other side of the room.
When everyone looked in that direction, they saw Grayson’s piercing eyes staring back at them. Despite all the morphine coursing through his body, it was like he had reached down deep to muster the energy to communicate.
“Please don’t waste any energy on me,” Grayson said. “I’m not worth it.”
Doc Wilson started to object, but Mason cut him off.
“Whatever we do, we gotta do it fast,” Mason said.
Doc Wilson looked at Mason and said, “Can you work with Mrs. Gray to get Sergeant Jones ready to transport?”
“Sure,” Mason said. Mason started to leave, but Doc Wilson grabbed his arm.
“The Sergeant is not in great shape,” Doc Wilson said. “He can move, but I need to give him something to make it easier.”
Doc Wilson broke away from Mason and went back to the table where he left his medical bag. He reached inside and pulled out two syringes and four vials. They clinked together in the quiet of the room.
Mason and Karen Gray went to the gurney where Sergeant Jones was and stood waiting for whatever Doc Wilson was getting ready to do.
Doc Wilson broke out of his momentary trance and headed toward Jones. Once he got there, he said, “Sergeant, I’m going to give you two meds. One will take you down, and the other one will amp you up, but the first one will cut your pain.”
Jones looked a little fuzzy. His eyes were totally locked in on Doc Wilson’s face. “Do whatever you have to, Doc.”
Doc Wilson looked to Mason and said, “He’ll be able to walk, but someone will have to be with him to support him.”
Mason closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lip. When he opened his eyes, he said, “I need to get back to the gate.”
“I can do it,” Karen Gray said, puffing out her chest, trying to look more formidable than she was.
“We’ll do it together, then,” Doc Wilson said. He turned his attention back to Jones and said, “Here it comes.”
Without any more fanfare, he injected Jones with both vials.
“That first one must have been a pain killer,” Jones said as he blinked his eyes quickly, trying to fight the rush of dizziness brought on by the drug.
“Give it a moment or two,” Doc Wilson said. “The second one will ramp you back up.”
All three of them kept their eyes on Sergeant Jones, and after about twenty seconds, Jones’s eyes snapped open wide, and he said, “Oh my.”
“There it is,” Doc Wilson said. “That’ll carry you for an hour or so.
“I feel like I could jump a tall building in a single bound,” Jones said.
“All you have to do is walk,” Doc Wilson said as he put his hand on Jones’s arm and gave him a gentle squeeze. When he let go, he looked to Mason and Karen Gray and asked, “Can you get him out of the room while I take care of Grayson?”
“Yeah, sure,” Mason said. Without too many words, he and Karen Gray worked to ease Jones off the gurney. They got on each side of the injured man and started leading him toward the door. Whatever the doctor gave Jones certainly helped him carry some of his own weight. Still, his original injury limited him to a fast limp, with Mason supporting him.
As they moved Jones, Doc Wilson made his way over to Grayson’s side.
“You know, you’re doing me a favor,” Grayson said, his voice weak and thready. “There was no way I was making it out of this alive, and I don’t think I deserve to make it, anyway.”
“Don’t say that,” Doc Wilson said in a calm and gentle voice.
“I may be off the hook for what I did while I was half-dead, but you don’t know what I did before the world went down the shitter. I was not a good person. Far from it.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Doc Wilson said.
“Oh, you don’t know,” Grayson said. “I was worse than you can imagine. And I don’t want you to feel bad about this. Remember, you are doing me a favor.” He lifted his only uninjured hand and said, “But none of that matters. This has to be done, and from what I heard, there’s no time to waste.”
“No,” Doc Wilson said.
“Then get it done,” Grayson said.
Doc Wilson lifted up the syringe and the first vial, then said, “This one will--”
“No need to get all clinical on me,” Grayson said. “Just get it done.”
Doc Wilson did as he was told and gave Grayson the first injection. He loaded up the second vial and started to inject it, but Grayson lifted his hand again.
“After you get done, can you say a prayer over me?” Grayson said.
The question stunned the doctor a little. With what he was doing, he didn’t want God anywhere near him.
“Please,” Grayson said, “I don’t deserve it, but I need it.”
“Sure,” Doc Wilson said, and he gave Grayson the second injection.
Within seconds, Grayson’s body seemed to relax, and his breathing slowed. To Doc Wilson, it looked as if someone had used some sort of hose to drain away something essential from Grayson.
Doc Wilson wasn’t the most spiritual man, but after spending his time with the people from the church and then with Joel and Kara, he was a believer. There was no denying it after what he had seen.
Still, he wasn’t all that good with the praying thing. He started off with the same words his mother would use, “Dear God…” He kept it short and sweet.
Thirty seconds later, Grayson took his final breath. The doctor stood in silence for a few more seconds, wondering if he had done everything he could. He finally accepted that the situation hadn’t left him a lot of options. Still, he found no consultation in those thoughts.
Doc Wilson took a quick detour before leaving. After he had what he needed, he headed for the door and left the room, feeling like he had just betrayed everything he had ever believed in.
Chapter 93
Sacrifice
“The gas is coming our way!” Gardner screamed. “Get us going, Dom!”
“What about him?” Navarro said, pointing out the broken window visor at Eli, who still stood out on the deck of the MAV. He was stock still, as if he didn’t see the green vapor cloud drifting their way. A cloud so deadly, they’d be dead in a minute. And it wasn’t a pretty death from what they had heard. In fact, one vivid detail flitting around in Gardner’s head was the idea that he would bleed from every orifice in his body if the gas got to him. It wasn’t a comforting thought.
“Fuck him,” Gardner shouted. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for him.”
On top of it all was the fact that twenty zombies surrounded the MAV, their greedy hands grabbing for Eli.
“Dom, get us the hell out of here,” Gardner said.
“I’ve tried,” Navarro said, but it came out like a whine. “We’re hung up on something.”
Eli turned around and looked in the visor window and shouted inside, “I got him. I see him. He’s fully human and writhing in the street.”
There was almost a sense of manic glee in his voice.
Too bad it didn’t last. One of the grasping zombies clamped onto his ankle and pulled hard. Eli was standing one moment and in the next, he was down on all fours, clawing onto anything to pull himself free from the zombie’s vice-life grip.
“Oh, shit! Oh, shit!” Navarro said. While his vision still wasn’t all that great, he knew exactly what was going outside the window.
“We gotta get out of here,” Gardner said.
Navarro tried again to get the MAV into reverse, but the vehicle didn’t seem to gain any traction. That told him that more than a couple of the wheels were off the ground. The hit from the RPG must have damaged the other ones because this beast was designed to traverse about any terrain.
The engine roared, but they didn’t get anywhere. All the while, the gas was drifting their way. The gas hit a cluster of zombies about thirty feet in front of them and they began to shake, rattle, and roll from the effects. A few collapsed in the street, while others jitterbugged in place.
Another zombie grabbed onto Eli’s other ankle and his face strained with the effort to hold his body onto the deck of the MAV. It looked to be a losing effort.
“Wait!” Navarro shouted. “Gards, do you have another shell?”
“Yeah, but how the hell is that going to help us?” Gardner asked, and it seemed he was close to crying.
“The recoil might knock us free,” Navarro said.
“That’s a stupid idea,” Gardner said.
“You got a better one,” Navarro shouted back.
Outside, Eli screamed as the zombies yanked him across the deck of the MAV toward the edge. Navarro knew there wasn’t a damn thing he could do for the man, so the best course of action would be to save himself. Well, and Gardner, too.
Gardner loaded up a shell and said, “Here goes nuthin’.”
A second later, he fired. The explosion rocked their world and the MAV jerked backward just as Navarro hit the gas and propelled the MAV away from the gas and the zombie assault. They were free from whatever held them in place, but the collateral damage was the fact that Eli was yanked off the vehicle by the zombies.
The Deadland Chronicles | Book 4 | Siege of the Dead: Page 39