Zombie Crusade Snapshots: Volume I

by J. W. Vohs

  Sophie came up to Aviel with a small radio in her hand and announced, “All squad leaders have their troops loaded into vehicles. Most of the off-duty soldiers are catching rides with us as well. We’re ready to go.”

  Aviel looked at his daughter and nodded curtly, “Move out.”

  The convoy quickly covered the distance to the roadblock, and as they drew near they could see some vehicles had flanked the troops by travelling off-road and were even now heading southward. Aviel let them go, more worried about the situation ahead. They pulled up to find that the IDF soldiers had abandoned the checkpoint and were digging in several hundred yards south of the roadblock. Occasional machine-gun bursts were being fired into the ground in front of the dozens of vehicles hopelessly entangled both on and off of the road where the soldiers had been manning the checkpoint the night before. Most people were staying in their cars, and those who got out and started walking toward the new position being prepared by the troops were presumed infected and summarily shot down by snipers.

  Aviel quickly found the lieutenant, who actually seemed pleased to see the cranky old vet who’d enjoyed tweaking his nose a few days earlier.

  “I’ve brought a hundred soldiers from the town to help. Most of them don’t have the hardware your men do, but they’re willing to do anything they can to help out here.”

  The harried officer tried to wipe the dirt from his face with equally filthy hands, finally giving up and taking a long drink from his water bottle before responding. “We just don’t have enough troops to hold this line, but we have to try. Dozens of vehicles have gotten past us already, and as you can tell from all the wrecks out there, we’ve lit up plenty of others. This is rotten business, machine-gunning cars with Israeli plates, trying to rescue the survivors who want to kill us for taking out their drivers and engines. Two of my men have died today, and three others are wounded badly enough to be out of the fight. I can’t get choppers in here for them; in fact, I’ve lost all communication with battalion headquarters. We’ve been in contact with Eilat, but they’ve got zombies all over town so they can’t help us. Everything on the coast seems to be lost, even Jerusalem is dying.” The lieutenant shook his head in disbelief as he rhetorically asked, “How many centuries has Jerusalem stood? Assyrians, Hittites, Egyptians, Babylonians, Greeks, Romans, Turks . . . how many armies has Jerusalem survived? Now it has fallen to monsters that have only existed in books and movies until now. What’s next, will Masada fall to an army of werewolves?”

  Aviel grabbed the exhausted officer by the arm and spoke in a soft, paternal tone, “Lieutenant, all a man can do is what is asked of him. Israel has asked you to hold this checkpoint. The nature of the enemy isn’t really important now; we will make a stand here.”

  The lieutenant eventually looked Aviel in the eye and responded with no emotion in his voice, “You are right, of course. I will leave the Merkava here with a crew of four. They have a full load of high explosive rounds, and all of their machine-gun ammo. Have your people form a bumper-to-bumper line with their vehicles and prepare to fight from behind the wall. We are running low on small-arms ammo so we can’t share; once your people are out they will have to fight with anything that will smash skulls. I will post my remaining soldiers on the flanks so they will be the ones who have to bear the responsibility of dealing with the vehicles trying to get around us. Finally, I will take three men forward and set up a temporary checkpoint where you can watch us. We will do our best to inspect people for bite marks and send those who are clean past our lines. Perhaps we can eventually arrange transport into the Negev for them, but for now they will need to stay in Ein Gedi. I see no other solution at the moment; we can’t just continue to shoot down civilians no matter what the government has ordered.”

  Aviel thought back to some of the things he had seen and done as a young soldier and found that he vehemently shared the officer’s convictions. “I will die before I will fire on uninfected civilians, and I’m pretty sure most of the troops in my company feel the same way.”

  The lieutenant smiled grimly. “They’ll probably have that opportunity before this is all over.”

  * * *

  As the sun began to slip below the peaks of the Judean Hills, everything and everyone was in place on the makeshift defensive line. No more vehicles had passed on the flanks, though a few had tried and been shot to pieces while making the attempt. The IDF soldiers seemed to have decided that they would face no more survivors of such actions, and hit the vehicles with so many rounds that they eventually exploded and burned with nobody able to escape. The blazing pyres served as an effective warning to the remaining vehicles snarled in the traffic jam, and the people finally accepted that they were going to bake inside their cars until they had a chance to clear the checkpoint. Dozens of zombies were now shuffling along the miles of stopped vehicles, their numbers appearing to grow despite many of them being shot down by snipers as well as shooters from within the waiting autos.

  Finally the lieutenant had a small canopy and a field desk set up a hundred yards in front of the defensive positions, and his men began passing vehicles through one by one so he and a sergeant could inspect everyone inside. The people in the first two cars were cooperative, and, after thorough inspections, each vehicle was dutifully waved through. Aviel’s soldiers nodded to each of the drivers and allowed them to pass the line they were guarding. The passengers of the third vehicle slowly stepped out of the car, but the driver refused to exit for inspection and began shouting unintelligible threats and insults at the Israeli officer. Suddenly a shot rang out, and the lieutenant took a staggering step backwards before righting himself, pulling his Jericho, and firing five or six rounds into the driver’s jerking body. The two women who’d been in the car with the gunman began screaming as they were restrained by several guards, and then the bad situation went completely over the edge when a zombie appeared from seemingly nowhere and tackled one of the sergeants to the ground.

  At that point the state of affairs spun dizzyingly out of control before anyone quite knew what had happened. The lieutenant shot the zombie and pulled the sergeant to his feet, both of them walking quickly back toward the defensive line. The two screaming women had broken free during the commotion, and they were put down by overzealous troops under Aviel’s command as they ran past the new checkpoint. The vehicles that had been patiently waiting in line began racing forward until they reached the line of solid steel and armed troops. The Merkava tank’s main gun fired two successive rounds, which set off a stamped of people who’d been steaming inside their vehicles all day long. Many of these folks ran smack into the growing number of zombies shuffling amidst the stopped cars looking for food, and most of the refugees seemed to be breaking away from the monsters after suffering a bite or two.

  Chaos now reigned along the line as vehicles continued to drive up to the wall and unload their passengers. A few were shot down, but most were pulled over the barricade and quickly inspected for wounds before being sent southward toward Ein Gedi. Aviel was on top of the Merkava, screaming at the commander in the open cupola that he would see all of them charged with murder if they fired their main gun into the crowd again. Half a dozen cars were burning and the smoke from the fires mingled with the dust being riled up by tires and feet, limiting visibility and bathing the entire area in a dark fog made worse by the rapidly fading daylight. Zombies began appearing at the defensive line, emerging from the haze with hungry moans only to find hot lead pouring into their bloody faces. As soon as the monsters showed up at the wall, anyone who wasn’t a zombie was able to crawl over the line of vehicles unmolested, with nobody bothering to look for wounds before the refugees continued their trek south.

  The sound of gunfire began to slow down as the defenders ran out of ammo, but the killing continued as the troops turned to clubs, spears, hammers, knives, shovels, and anything else that would effectively crush a zombie’s skull if swung with enough force. The fires were dying down, but dusk had settled in so
visibility continued to decline along with the ammo supply. The lieutenant eventually tracked down Aviel, still standing next to the tank but now fighting alongside his soldiers whenever the infected reached their position. The old warrior saw the young officer and shouted, “Where are you wounded?”

  The lieutenant shook his head as he approached, motioning to his body armor. “The bastard’s shot hit one of the plates in my vest, just knocked the wind out of my lungs and probably left one hell of a bruise. He was infected; I could see bloody bandages around his right arm.”

  Aviel grunted, “We holding on the flanks?”

  “Yeah,” the officer replied, “the biggest push so far has been right here in the center. Your people are fighting like maniacs.”

  “They’re all veterans,” Aviel shrugged, “they know how to fight.”

  The lieutenant nodded and yelled, “Look, I’m pulling the Merkava out of the line and sending them around the right flank of the refugee column. I can’t see anything and need some intel on what the hell’s going on out there. Fill the gap and keep it open for them.”

  Aviel shouted back, “You got it.”

  A moment later the tank headed off to the northwest, disappearing into the darkening evening as Aviel’s volunteers filled the huge machine’s place in the line. Mubin and Sophie were there too, and both of them were now wielding pikes against the infected continuing to push their way up to the wall. Aviel kept both of them in sight until the tank came rumbling back out of the dusk ten minutes later, the lieutenant suddenly there to receive his reconnaissance report. The Merkava’s commander climbed down and explained, “Vehicles are jammed together to the horizon, but if they still have people in them they’re keeping quiet and staying locked in. Hundreds, and I mean many hundreds, of infected are following the line of vehicles headed in our direction. My driver thinks they’re attracted by all of the noise here on the line.”

  The lieutenant waited for more information and when none was forthcoming he asked, “You see any sign of reinforcements for us? Choppers, troops, anything?”

  The tank commander mournfully declared, “We’re at the edge of the world, sir. The IDF’s forgotten us.”

  Aviel interrupted, “They’d be here if they could. We held the Golan in ’73 against worse odds than this. We’ll hold this line tonight.”

  The commander wasn’t convinced. “We’re almost out of ammo and outnumbered more than ten to one. We’re Israelis—we’ll hold this line until we are dead, but dead we will be by morning.”

  With that dire prediction he climbed back up into his Merkava and shouted instructions to his crew. They swiveled their main gun toward the north and prepared to receive the enemy. The lieutenant finally told Aviel, “You should get your people back to Ein Gedi and defend the town.”

  Aviel frowned and explained, “We don’t have the manpower to prepare defensive works around Ein Gedi, and besides, zombies are already roaming through the streets. The best thing my fighters can do for their families is to hold this line right here.”

  The young officer just shook his head, “This line is untenable. We both know it. The cities are done, and the towns are quickly falling. Soon it will be every man for himself, and families will need their best fighters if they are to have any chance of survival.”

  Aviel opened his mouth to protest when he suddenly remembered something the lieutenant had said in jest. “Do you really believe Masada has fallen to an army of werewolves?”

  The grime-covered warrior cocked his head in confusion before he realized what Aviel was referring to. He smiled and replied, “No sir, not even werewolves can take Masada.”

  “What about zombies?” Aviel wondered aloud.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later the plan was in place. Seven wounded soldiers were to be packed into the troop compartment of the tank, while Sophie and Mubin would catch a ride on top of the machine. The Merkava was to travel into Ein Gedi as quickly as possible and warn everyone that the settlement was being evacuated immediately. People would be given fifteen minutes to pack, with an emphasis on tarps and tents, filled water containers, and every scrap of food in the town. At the end of that time, the soldiers manning the line at the checkpoint would be ordered to retreat and form a rear-guard for the Ein Gedi convoy. Destination: Masada.

  By the time the tank rolled into the settlement, the word was already being spread everywhere. People had to be on their guard while packing because zombies were definitely loose in the streets, but sporadic gunfire indicated that the residents knew how to deal with the monsters. Before the Merkava had even stopped, Mubin had hopped off and sprinted for the Galitz’ home. There he found Lina ordering everyone around as they loaded the Jeep, a clunker they kept at the kibbutz that could pull the trailer, and the Palestinian’s car with everything they could fit into the vehicles that would help them survive life on top of a desert plateau. Mubin followed her commands just like everyone else, and by the time Sophie arrived the packing was finished. Lina wanted to know where the convoy would be lining up.

  “We have a tank already waiting on Highway 90 south of town,” Sophie explained, “but some people are heading out already. The Merkava will wait for the soldiers from the checkpoint to arrive before leaving, and many families are going to wait for their loved ones too.”

  Lina looked thoughtful for a moment, “Mubin will take Alima and the children now, but you and I will wait at the end of the line for your father. These people will need a reliable rear-guard if the zombies are chasing us.”

  Mubin, upon hearing this exchange, told his sister to put her daughters in their family’s vehicle. He then ordered Zafir to get in with the girls, and then told Mick to join Zafir. Both boys flat out refused to get in the car. Sophie realized what was going on and walked over to help manage the teenagers. Mubin held up his hand and said, “I heard what you told your mother. I am sending Alima and the children ahead, and I know you want Mick to go as well, but I will stay and help your father.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” Sophie replied, though she appreciated the offer.

  Mubin shook his head defiantly, “Aviel saved my family’s lives, and mine too. I will not leave him to guard the rear alone.”

  Sophie tried to explain, “Mother and I were IDF, we know how to shoot and fight. Your life has been different. Please, take care of my son along with your family and keep them in the convoy.”

  Mubin wouldn’t give in, “I’m sorry, Sophie, but even though my life has been different doesn’t mean I have no honor. I WILL wait for your father. I was shooting zombies on the line an hour ago, and trust me, that wasn’t the first time I’ve used a gun.”

  Sophie finally realized that she wasn’t going to win this argument, but Mick was another story. She marched both boys over to the passenger window and pointed at the girls in their car seats. “You will protect them until they get to Masada. There will be no argument—these are your orders. How much ammo do you have?”

  Mick’s shoulders slumped a bit, but he answered quickly, “Three clips fully loaded, and a hundred rounds in my pack.”

  “And you have a hammer?”

  He nodded, “And a long knife. Zafir and Alima have clubs and knives too, and Alima has grandpa’s shotgun.”

  Sophie smiled, “Good, that way if you fail to protect them she will have a last chance to save herself. Now, get in the car and see that everyone in this vehicle makes it through to safety.”

  Mick knew that his mother was making the right decision, but separating from her in such dire circumstances didn’t make it any easier. She stepped up and hugged him fiercely, whispering, “I love you Mickey, and I’ll be right behind you.”

  “I love you too,” he replied as he opened the door and climbed in. “Be careful.”

  Alima shared a long look with Sophie that spoke volumes about the responsibility the older American woman was bestowing upon the young Palestinian mother. Sophie thought of the Muslim women around the world who were not allowed to
drive and wondered how children in those places would fare during an emergency evacuation. Finally, Alima brushed a tear from her cheek and promised, “I will care for him as for my own children.”

  Sophie just nodded as Alima started the car and headed for the convoy, not trusting herself to speak for the moment. She waved good bye to Mick and the Palestinian family and watched as the vehicle disappeared into the night. Now she had only her mother. Her husband and daughter were half an apocalyptic world away, and her father was defending a crumbling defensive line against flesh-eating monsters with clubs and sticks. She looked up into the dark sky and whispered a short prayer for the safety of her loved ones. She quietly promised herself, “I will have my family together again.”

  * * *

  Aviel was looking into the same sky, but while lying on his back on the hard-packed earth waiting for his men to pull the huge zombie corpse off of him so he could get back on his feet. The infected were breaking through all across the line until the lieutenant called in the soldiers on the flanks to beef up the center of their defenses. The battle was obviously lost, however, and now the trick was to extricate all of the fighters from the attacking zombies as quickly and safely as possible. At least twenty fighters had already fallen, the locations of their last stands marked by piles of flesh-eaters obscenely mobbing the bodies of the dead. In the midst of this carnage, Aviel was pulled roughly to his feet and shoved into an evacuating SUV. He tried to protest that a commander had to stay with his men, but virtually all of the militia fighters had already retreated, and he couldn’t catch his breath in time to shout before the vehicle was speeding away.