I found myself near one of the flatbed trailers just as it slowly tipped over by the force of the undead. The people manning the station toppled backwards. Those in the firing pit underneath now found themselves exposed. The undead slipped into the firing pit before those inside could escape. A number of mounted warriors rallied to give those who managed to get off a chance to get to fall back trailer. I joined in swinging and kicking.
Just when I though I couldn’t bring my weapon down any longer, we were ordered back behind the lines. This mob was all but done. A mountain of corpses littered the snow. While the front line stood their ground cheering as they watched us ride away. They didn’t cheer for us but for the snipers that fired from the flatbeds taking out the last few that remained standing. Wave one was over.
Reporting in behind the lines there were less of us now than when we started, the close combat took its toll. I was happy when I spotted Eve. I waved from a distance, she waved back just as Rollie came up beside me. I was happy to see them. There was a quick meal of hot stew and biscuits. Runners, kids really, passed out cans of energy drinks. I needed the pickup. I was exhausted. We all were. As we rested our second wave filed passed us, heading to relieve those on the trailers and firing pits.
The next few hours were filled with sporadic gun fire, nothing like the full blown battle from earlier. Every few minutes a dozen or so shots would echo but we still managed to get some shut eye. The rest of our platoon found each other, after handshakes and hugs a flask was passed around and stories shared. I noticed the missing faces of the Twice Shys. I only hope we don’t see their numbers adding to the ranks of the undead. .
The increased gunfire told us the next wave was approaching. The reserve Calvary cantered past us. We saddled our horses and lined up waiting in reserve. Waiting was worse than fighting. I’d rather be helping.
There was a call about a small group a few miles out. Mitch volunteered with a few Young Dogs. When Eve raised her hand to go, I decided to go with in hopes of keeping her out of trouble. I’ll have to talk to her about always volunteering for dangerous shit. Our goal was to quickly put down any stragglers while scouting the area for larger numbers.
We easily road down the main group and broke off in twos to sweep up the stragglers. I was on the ridge of a small coulee my partner wandered off. I could see Mitch’s partner was down, his horse standing idly over the body. Five undead lay scattered near the body with a few left mingling around, trying to get at the body. Mitch jumped off his horse clubbed one of the undead. It fell into the snow besides the Young Dog. One more undead limped eagerly over, Mitch stood his ground not moving. I spurred Round The Sky down the hill as the undead closed in, Mitch still didn’t act. I reached the bottom and galloped closer. Mitch dropped his machete into the snow. He walked towards the undead monster offering his forearm I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I was too far away to stop it. The undead sunk its teeth into Mitch’s arm. He yelled out. I spurred Round The Sky on, bringing up my rifle. The shot was too risky. Mitch grabbed a hatchet with his other arm, bringing it down on the undead just as I fired a shot. The blade sunk deep into the top of its head as my bullet hit it in the temple. It fell to the ground, the hatched still buried in its skull. Mitch covered the wound with his free hand.
I halted before him, looking down. He said, “Now I’m going to be a Twice Shy.” I shook my head.
We rode in silence rendezvousing with the others.
Back in camp he showed off his wound to the other Young Dogs. They gave loud war cries and fired their guns in the air. They held a celebration around a bonfire. The joy was not shared by all. The Twice Shys shared my sentiments, we left silently returning to out tents and teepees. We were exhausted from the battle and fed up with Mitch’s foolish actions.
March 19
Mitch turned sometime in the night. The war chiefs decided to chain him up when it was clear there was no hope. The Young Dogs cut lines across their cheeks in mourning. They would be the ones to put him down, to remind them not to try the same thing. He may have had an ego but I didn’t want to witness this once proud and skilled warrior brought down. Instead I made my way to the stockade. I watched the buffalo prance around. I went to the pen for some time all alone. The lone white calf looked at me. It didn’t care what was going on in the world.
The calf bent down at the dugout to get a drink. Its nose causing ripples when it touched the dark water. That’s when I saw it. The calves’ reflection. Twin white buffalo calves. I know this was the place I was supposed to find. For my victories and defeats I thank you. My visions, as cloudy as they are I thank you. You led me on this road taking me here. You united the nations. We are strong and getting stronger.
The calf approached me as I spoke. I reached out my hand. Its soft wool like hair…. The echo of one volley of gun shots. Mitch. The calf scampered to the safety of its mother. Its ears twitched and picked up, its root beer colour eyes looked skywards
I hear it too.
Helicopters in the distance…And heavy metal music carried on the breeze.
The warning drums have started but I can still hear the helicopters…
*Editor’s note.
The journal was found weeks later among the bodies and debris on the battle field. As of publishing time, no trace of the author has been found. The camp was abandoned, the people scattered. The 7th Calvary suffered a pyrrhic victory at Pine Ridge. They were acting independently from the rest of the remaining military.
The remnants of the 7th were annihilated by the undead while they concentrated their efforts in pursuit of the fleeing survivors of the All Nations.
The Montana militia successfully ceded from the United States, expanding its borders into eastern Washington, northern Wyoming , twenty miles north of Calgary, Alberta and nearly all of Idaho. Bill Carson’s small group was crushed when they refused to join the Montana Militia or turn over their weapons.
Rumors of All Nations survivors forming smaller communities in isolated parts of the Dakotas, Minnesota, the Prairie Provinces and the wilds of Ontario have yet to be confirmed.
No traces of the diaries author has been found.
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Editor’s note:
Tomahawks & Zombies
Tomahawks & Zombies Page 22