Looking Back Through Ash

by Wade Ebeling

  The group tasked with charging the APC at the southeast corner of the Warehouse would have the longest distance to cross, as they were coming from behind City Hall. They would also have to watch for the southwest APC group to make its move before they could take action. Once they made it to the armored vehicles, and after a fire could be seen burning under one of them, only then were the two embedded groups to the south to start firing. This gunfire was then to be the cue for the main assault groups, who were to try and take the actual building by sweeping in from the sides.

  By far, the assault groups were being placed in the most danger. It was being placed upon them to do the brunt of the nasty, up-close and personal fighting. Accordingly, this group was armed with all of the shotguns, most of which had several inches cut from the barrels. Using a classic flanking move, they would swoop in from the east and west, hopefully, surprising and destroying anyone who had gained cover against the hail of gunfire coming from the south. It was also up to them to race after anyone lucky enough to find refuge back inside the Warehouse. The APC assault groups, if successful, were to cover the bazaar exits, which included on the eastern doors, the two man doors on the north side that gave access to the shipping containers and still, and the lone door on the west side that led into the housing area. If everything went to plan, anyone running back in through the two rolling doors on the southern side would then be effectively trapped inside.

  All of these things swirled aimlessly around Daniel’s mind. He had not told this to anyone, but his personal plan was to execute anyone who surrendered, and none too quickly when it came to those that he could get to admit to being at his house. Daniel put away the creeping, terrifying thoughts of the group member’s fates. His lone goal of seeing Bob Donner dead, apparently, still had a strong hold over him, and nothing had existed beyond this since having realized who was after him.

  There were no hopeful plans for a bright future after the battle; if it was even won. No plans to try and find happiness in a new life with the group. It was as if Daniel saw Bob dead, usually by his own hand, and then his life ended along with it. He had not allowed anything to take root beyond that moment of death. Daniel had always been relentlessly thinking of the next day, the next week, even the next year, when he had a family. Now he could not focus on anything beyond these next few hours, and he had not been able to do so for some time.

  “Here we go,” Tony hissed in nearly uncontainable excitation.

  Sure enough, the two rolling bay doors were slowly raised by chain-falls, the pounding sounds of music drifting across the ground to where they stood, vibrating the window frame in front of them. People started ducking under the doors, spreading out across the grounds. Some headed for the bar and restaurants, bringing tables and chairs out and dragging them closer to the large fire pit, while others made for the larger wood pile, tossing logs into a pit.

  About half of the people who walked out of the Warehouse wore assault rifles slung across their back, and everybody could be seen holding jugs and bottles; from which they kept taking long drinks. The music masked what was being yelled and laughed, but it did not cover the general jubilant mood of those standing around, and those still coming out of the doors. Daniel thought he recognized Bob Donner’s profile, but he was quickly distracted when the fire was suddenly lit by means of flammable liquid, most likely the high proof liquor. The cheer that went up, rising along with the ball of orange flame, could be clearly heard by every member of Daniel’s group.

  “How long should we wait?” Tony spoke freely, knowing that his words would be smothered in the shack.

  “Give ‘em a while. Looks like the alcohol just got passed out by the way they are going at those bottles. This went on for hours the last time…What? What are they doing?” Daniel responded, quickly pulling his binoculars up to see what several people were carrying out of the Warehouse. When they carried two distinct loads straight over to the now fully engulfed fire, Daniel realized what they carried. When the bundles were tossed into the flames, to even more cheers, he lowered the binoculars.

  “What was that?” Tony asked, moving his head around from small opening to small opening in the window frame, squinting at the crowd around the fire.

  “They are burning bodies,” Daniel said blankly. “How many do you count?”

  “What? How many of what?” Tony asked. The tone in Daniel’s voice said that this was something important.

  “How many people do you see? Make a count…I have twenty or twenty one. Where are the rest? There has to be more people than that…Right?” Daniel urged Tony to fathom a guess.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just mainly the police guys that are allowed to be out? That would be good, wouldn’t it? Any of the others that stayed behind are out of the way now,” Tony said, turning to face Daniel in hopes that he agreed.

  “Hell, I expected twice this many,” was all Daniel could say. He did not know if some of the former police were being held in reserve, or if he was watching some of them burn away on the fire. Still, the number of men around the fire was much smaller than expected, and looked like a much easier target for Daniel’s group. “It doesn’t change anything. Let them enjoy their party…” the hatred in Daniel’s voice, usually hidden away, seeped into every syllable of this last sentence.

  “When should we go?” Tony begged, bouncing on the balls of his feet with the easier prospects of the fight ahead.

  Looking at the green hands of his watch, Daniel said, “A little over an hour. We will hit them just after midnight. Boys…we will send you out in a little bit, get ready.”

  All three of the boys perked up at these words, starting to nod to one another. Winding their clocks for good measure, the boys compared times on them to make sure that what they displayed was still synchronized.

  ……..

  Mack, being in the lead, heard the music and saw the fire first. Everyone behind him heard the cheer. He raised his hands and the workers stopped silently behind him. He turned to face them in the dim light of the stars and newly emerged moon. Mack simply pointed into the Tech center and placed his finger over his lips.

  Those that made out his meaning quietly moved over to the fence and pulled the bottom up for others to crawl under, the rest catching on quickly. Any noises that the large group made, as they moved across a field to get behind an old collapsed building to the south of the fire, were being drowned out by the sounds coming from the north. Quite by accident, Mack had found the workers their first victims, and he was moving them into position for what looked like to be an easy victory.

  ……..

  Tuesday

  The boys were sent off, carrying their clocks and messages of when to commence the siege. Tony left to go join an attack group, shortly after seeing the boys safely off. Daniel stood alone at the window. By shielding the light of the fire with his left hand, keeping it from ruining his eyesight, he could just make out three figures crawling up to the southwest corner of the fence. His stomach was doing summersaults and his right hand gripped the rifle until it hurt.

  Without warning, and definitely not according to plan, several sporadic shots came from the fighting positions to the south.

  Daniel stood dumbfounded at how the plan could have gone awry so early on. Not only was it not the complete deluge of suppressive fire that it was supposed to be, and not only had it started way too early, but the group members to the south didn’t even seem to be shooting at the policemen around the fire. At least, none of the ones that Daniel could see had fallen down yet. The noise did avert the party goer’s attention to the south, allowing the southwest APC assault group to finish their task. Daniel could now see the dim glow of flames coming from under the vehicle.

  Those around the fire were not stunned for long, and most sprouted a rifle in their hands and began firing to the south. The main attack groups took this as their cue, coming out of hiding to rush forward. Daniel had still not seen even one of the former policemen fall due to gunfire, and h
e was struggling to figure out what exactly was going on. Several of the police, safe behind cover along the wall of the restaurant, had taken notice of the flames lapping up the sides of the APC close by and were starting to direct their fire that way. The assault group was now within range to return fire, but they were being slowed down by trying to crawl through the hole cut into the fence.

  What Daniel saw next confused him even further. He watched as several of the police stopped firing at the assault group, spinning to start firing back towards the south instead. Within seconds of making this choice, most gave up on it, some even dropping their rifles in the dirt, before turning to run back inside the Warehouse. Only two or three bodies could be seen around the fire as members of the assault group raced up to the rolling doors, which were sure to close at any moment.

  None of this chaos was making sense to Daniel. The entrenchments to the south had stopped firing altogether, and the assault group had stopped in their tracks, starting to shoot in a southerly direction. While still dumping rounds to the south, the assault group was simultaneously trying to race back to the hole in the fence.

  ‘How had this gone so wrong? Why are they all withdrawing?’ Daniel wondered. “What in the fuck are you guys doing?” he screamed, stamping his foot like an impertinent child.

  Then Daniel saw what looked like the ground itself rising up, bubbling and churning as it moved. The world looked like it had come alive, forming into ever greater waves that crashed forward, slamming against the chain-link fence surrounding the Warehouse. Suddenly it all came into focus. Fear overcame Daniel upon his realization. It was waves of people, all wearing the same gray uniforms and encircling the Warehouse, pouring over the top of the fence.

  Within seconds the assault group was swallowed up by the inexorable tide, despite their wild firing. Mouth agape and legs shaking uncontrollably, Daniel watched in horror as this huge faction of people swallowed the building whole, pouring into the interior through the open rolling doors, while dozens of others ran around the sides, looking for additional ways to get in.

  Daniel slunk back into the darkness of the shed. He had just watched the hopes, and bodies, of the group get smashed to pieces right before his very eyes. The warmth that had just run down his leg started cooling as he dashed out the open door. Forgoing the stealthy route, once he found the railroad tracks, Daniel turned and followed them to the north. The music had been shut off, but the sounds of a very different kind of party continued on. Twice in his haste, Daniel stumbled, sprawling out as he fell heavily to the ground. The fear had turned his legs into jelly, slowing his pace considerably.

  Horrible, selfish thoughts tried to grab ahold of Daniel as he approached the RV encampment. Several young children, along with two women and one old man left to watch over them, were awaiting word of the raid. Daniel knew they needed to be warned and led away from this area as soon as possible. Angered though it made him, he could not stop the thoughts from coming. They were about abandoning those people, and hiding away in the same building that Jason had cowered in. After all, Uncle Jason had proven this a viable option, despite it being a lonely way to spend the rest of one’s life.

  Daniel had come to a complete halt, just short of the RV storage grounds boundary. He was trying to give himself a chance to crush down the fear that brought these thoughts about, trying to will the right choice up to the surface. He was very close to moving forward, the way he would go was still up for further internal debate, when shouts of warning came from behind.

  “Run! Just keep running!” the breathless, obviously strained, voice of a man shouted.

  Spinning around, Daniel saw that the advice was not meant for him. Instead, the voice was urging quicker movement from someone who was falling behind, which the man had turned to face before his warning had been made. Another group was even further behind this pair, charging straight down the tracks. It was immediately clear that the further group was members of the same horde that had just swarmed the Warehouse. Before either group took notice of him, Daniel dove headlong into the thick bushes that thrust up just east of the oily stones that supported the railroad tracks.

  Daniel struggled to turn onto his back and point the rifle out in front of him without causing such a ruckus that it would make his presence obvious to anyone close by. A man and woman went hurrying past, struggling to reload internal rifle magazines as they went. Daniel recalled them as a couple that he had assigned to the northeast APC attack group, mainly because they didn’t have kids. Daniel wanted to yell out a warning of his own, threats of harm for leading the horde straight back to camp, but nothing came out. The gripping fear of being seen or heard overrode these urges.

  While he chastised them, and himself, as cowards, a dozen men in gray jumpsuits came into view.

  Chapter 27

  There was no need for Daniel to tell his lungs to stop drawing air, the rancid smell of the invaders flesh took care of that. It was even more of a struggle to keep from gagging when he saw the open sores that covered their face and hands, like each one of them carried some unknown and disturbing plague. Most of the men in gray jumpsuits were carrying clubs, but Daniel was certain that he had seen a rifle or two also. Even after the group of horrifying visions past across his narrow band of view through the overgrowth, their stench remained.

  Daniel had never been so afraid. Whether it was the years of conditioning telling him that these strangers were dangerous, or whether it was the new danger of catching whatever horrendous-looking disease they carried, or whether it was just because of their sheer numbers, he did not know.

  Despite wanting nothing more than to crawl further into the concealing weeds, Daniel found that he could not just sit back and listen to what was about to happen to the remainder of the group. He had to try to stop it. Standing slowly upright, he walked the short distance back to the railroad tracks and looked up and down them. Nothing moved, including him. This slight hesitation, and the silence of the night, were both shattered by several spaced gunshots, which made Daniel drop painfully to his knees on the rocks. The gunfire was followed by screams of horror and pain.

  Daniel’s senses were so engrossed in what was taking place to the north that he did not realize there were several more of the workers sneaking up the tracks, acting as a following search party. Without knowing just how close he had come to dying of blunt force trauma, Daniel ran up the tracks, rifle pressed into his shoulder, fully resolved to join the ongoing fight ahead of him.

  He leapt across the distance, scanning for movement in the deep shadows that the wreckage of numerous campers created, looking for potential targets. His brain had, thankfully, shut off all thoughts of what might happen in the next few minutes.

  Daniel charged into the clearing that the group used to congregate within. Four bodies lay strewn across the ground; one was even trying to crawl away. Most of the darkened figures that were still moving, around ten yards in front of him, were either howling with a bloodlust-filled glee or were screaming out in agony, begging for a mercy that would not come. His rifle centered on a man who was repeatedly raising a knife above his head, plunging it back down into the huddled group of women and kids, who had been left behind during the failed raid. Daniel shot him in the back three times. The man was already dead before he crumpled face forward onto the mass of trapped bodies, pressed against the hull of an old bus.

  Most of the raw-skinned invaders turned to face the new threat that Daniel posed, rushing him like rabid dogs. At this range, which was shrinking by the nanosecond, he instinctively found that whatever shadow was moving fastest drew his aim. When one went down, arms flailing and legs kicking, the rifle was already settling on the next darkened form. Again and again the faceless shapes fell. Screams of all forms filled his ears, but Daniel did not stop firing until the magazine ran dry. Without pause, he pulled the sling over his head, dropping the rifle to the ground before drawing the pistol from the utility belt.

  Spinning around wildly, Daniel looked for more
threats. When he was confident that none were present, he turned his attention back to his group members. What he saw brought out the full spectrum of his anger. A tall, scarred man with a large neck tattoo was holding a thrashing girl in his arms, a knife pressed to her neck. Daniel was in no mood for negotiations, especially with someone that would hide behind a child, and he started walking closer, shooting downward into heads of anybody still moving, however slight or involuntary. This included blowing out the brains of the gut-stuck old man still trying to crawl away.

  Keeping the crazed-looking kidnapper locked in his own crazed gaze, Daniel switched out pistol magazines. When he had finished walking down the line, shooting every few steps, Daniel took a stable stance and a two-handed grip that pointed the pistol straight at the cowardly man’s face, who responded in turn by pressing the knife harder against the girl’s esophagus. The girl had stopped her struggling and was staring pleadingly at Daniel, her eyes wide open and glowing white in the dim lighting. The men leveled hatred at one another with long piercing stares.

  Daniel slowly shook his head at raider, warning him to not press his luck. The diseased man looked away quickly, back in the direction of the Warehouse. This time, Daniel slowly moved his head up and down, bringing the pistol down ever so slightly, as if to say he would accept the deal. The man visibly loosened his grip, and the pressure he was exerting with the knife. Daniel smiled slightly, putting the man further at ease, and then, without warning, he shot the tattooed man in the right eye. A fine mist shot out the back of the man’s head, painting the exposed metal of the bus behind him. To Daniel’s dismay, the man fell backwards without loosening the death grip that he had on the poor girl.

  Daniel ran over to disentangle the girl from the man’s jerking body, and to search for any other survivors as fast as he could manage. Knowing the girl was not harmed, he continued searching the heap before attempting to console her. The only signs of life were coming from one of the group members, but the woman was only making the mooing, sickly sounds endemic with a head injury. The rest of the children were dead. They either had bashed-in skulls or numerous knife wounds, which had already stopped bleeding. The girl started crying, her body giving great lurches that coincided with the sobs.