“We’ve already got a team standing by to do that. They’re moving in as soon as the scouting parties come back, and their objective is to kill and divert as many undead as they can,” Nick said.
“Damn, that’s too bad,” Mike said. “I refuse to die like a rat in a hole.”
“But, As it happens, we’ve just received news of a second horde approaching from the south-east.”
“What?” several voices cried out.
“That’s correct,” Nick said. “Plus, they appear to be closer than the other group, which creates a huge problem for us. We’ll be fighting a battle on two fronts.”
Mike Hansen whistled. “In that case, let my team take care of the second horde. We can slow them down and try to divert them, or die trying.”
“I’d rather you don’t die, but I accept your offer,” Nick said.
“Then it’s settled,” Mike said with a satisfied smile. “We’ll leave straight away.”
“Thank you,” Nick said.
“What about me?” Grissom asked.
“You can have your old position back, but if I hear so much as one peep out of you, I’ll kill you myself,” Nick said. “Got it?”
Grissom nodded. “I won’t let you down.”
Mike, Grissom, and the others left, allowing Nick to return to the meeting. “That went well, I think.”
“Yes, it’s better to make allies than enemies,” Tara agreed. “And Grissom makes a bad enemy.”
“I suppose,” Nick said. “While you’re here, we need to discuss the availability of the cure. People are going to get bitten, and they’ll need it.”
Tara nodded. “We have a sizable amount stored away, plus we’re making more as we speak.”
“Excellent.”
“But, I’d suggest setting up a separate ward in the infirmary for all infected individuals. Even with the cure, we need to be careful.”
“How so?”
“People react differently to it. Some become violent. They’ll need to quarantined and guarded around the clock.”
“Understood,” Nick said. “I’ll see to it.”
“After the fight, every individual who came into contact with a zombie will need to be examined for possible infection,” Tara added. “It would really suck defeating these hordes only to have the virus take over from within.”
“Good point,” Nick said. “We’ll make sure to do that once this is over.”
“That’s if we win, of course,” Dylan pointed out.
“I have an idea that might help in that regard,” Richard said, stepping forward.
Nick waved a hand. “Go ahead.”
“If the zombies can’t get to us, they can’t kill us, right?” Richard asked.
“Right, but how do we accomplish that?”
“By blowing the bridges at US 340 in Sandy Hook and US 15 in Point of Rocks,” Richard said, pointing out the two structures. “If we do that, the river becomes impassable, and neither of the hordes can reach us.”
Nick blinked. “That’s kind of perfect.”
“Any scouting or attacking teams beyond those points will have to fall back before we blow the bridges, or they’ll be crushed, though,” Richard said.
“Who knows anything about explosives?” Nick asked. “We’ll need two teams to do this.”
“I do, but I’m needed here,” Mac said.
“I know a little, but my main job will be diverting any hordes that enter the city away from the base,” Richard said.
“If we blow the bridges, we won’t need to divert them,” Dylan said.
“There are no guarantees the plan will succeed,” Richard said. “The hordes could find a different way, or the explosives could fail. The team could fail. It’s best to be prepared for anything.”
“True,” Dylan conceded. “I’d volunteer, but I know nothing about blowing stuff up.”
“I know a little,” Jackson said.
“So do I,” Saul added.
“How about Mac and I each give a team a crash course in demolition?” Richard asked. “Jackson can lead the one, and Saul the other. They’d need helpers to set the groundwork too.”
“I’m in,” Dylan said. “I’d love to see something go boom.”
“It’s our best shot,” Nick said after thinking it over. “Saul and Jackson, gather your teams and report to Richard and Mac this afternoon. You need to leave in the morning. Whatever happens, blow those bridges, but not before you pull our forces back across the river.”
“Yes, Sergeant,” Jackson and Saul confirmed.
“Then we’re done here. You all know what to do, so get to it,” Nick said. “And good luck to you all.”
Chapter 16 - Mike
Mike strode past the assembled men and women of his community, inspecting each one with a keen eye. They looked ready. Tough and capable, plus armed to the teeth.
Behind them stood a line of trucks and motorbikes, many of them reinforced with sheets of metal, and steel spikes. One even had a snowplow affixed to the front.
“I like the improvements you’ve made,” Alex said with an admiring look. “You’ve got a real Mad Max vibe going there.”
Mike laughed. “You can thank the young ones for that. They thought of it, and I let them have their way.”
“Smart,” Alex replied before moving away.
Mike raised his hands for attention. “Alright, everyone. You’ve all heard about the second horde. It’s coming up from the south-east and numbers in the thousands. If somebody doesn’t do something about it, it could mean all of our deaths.”
Mike paused for a brief moment. “The undead are fast and strong, but we are faster and stronger. Smarter too. So, what do you say? Do we wait for them to come here, or do we take the fight to their doorstep?”
The assembled men and women roared their assent, and Mike echoed their cries. They pumped their fists in the air and screamed until their throats were raw. Amped up, they jumped into their vehicles and numerous engines roared to life.
Mike turned to Saul and Nick. “Well, this is it. We’re leaving.”
“Thank you, Mike. I appreciate your help. Be sure to come back in one piece,” Nick said.
“Will do,” Mike said, tipping his hat at them. “Goodbye, gentlemen.”
“Here. Take this,” Saul said, handing him a map. “This is where the scouting parties last saw the second horde. Be careful.”
“We know what we’re doing, thanks,” Mike said, taking the map. “We haven’t survived this long on luck alone.”
“I know. You’re a tough bunch,” Saul agreed.
Mike jumped into the passenger side of the truck with the snowplow attached and waved his hand. “Let’s move out.”
The convoy pulled out of the gates and rumbled down the road while Mike whistled a jaunty tune. He was in a good mood. As the leader of his community, he was respected and had many people under his wing. It got tedious at times, though, and he secretly longed for action. Well, I’m sure as hell going to get it today.
He unfolded the map Saul had given him and studied the route. They didn’t have far to go. According to the scouts, the horde was last spotted somewhere around Fredericksburg but was veering to the north-west. Their best guess was that it would hit Culpeper before continuing north. Once they hit the Potomac river, they’d keep going until they found the bridge at Point of Rocks. That was only about fourteen miles away from the fort.
“Where are we going, boss?” his driver Peterson asked.
“Culpeper. That’s the first place I want to hit them. As we retreat, I want to veer the zombies off to the north-east,” Mike replied.
“Why?” Peterson asked.
“If we can lead them far enough in that direction, they might push on into Washington and bypass us altogether. Or get lost in its maze of streets,” Mike said. “Either way, we need to trim their numbers before they hit the bridge at Point of Rocks.”
Peterson nodded. “Good plan, Boss.”
“Let’s hop
e it works,” Mike said, leaning back in his seat. As they drove, he idly noted that the roads were deathly quiet once more. The steady trickle of survivors had thinned to the odd car rushing by with panicked fear—the Johnny-come-latelies.
It wasn’t long before they reached the outskirts of Culpeper, and Mike perked up. “Right. Let’s see what we’ve got here.”
He gazed around, noticing the thick stands of trees that hemmed in the road on either side. Culpeper was about three miles ahead, and Mike decided to call a halt. “Let’s stop right here and regroup.”
Peterson nodded and pulled onto the shoulder of the road. The rest of the convoy followed suit, and people got out to stretch their legs.
“Come on, folks. Let’s pull it in,” Mike called. As his team grouped around him, he said, “I need two volunteers to scout ahead and determine the horde’s exact location. There’s no need for us to rush into a trap.”
“I’ll go,” a man said, stepping forward. “I can get in and out fast on my bike.”
“Me too,” another said, this one a youngster barely out of his teens.
“Liam and Neil, right? Be careful. I want you back here alive, you hear me?” The two nodded, and seconds later, they pulled out. Mike watched until they faded into the distance before he continued. “As for the rest of you: Take a bathroom break, have something to eat or drink, and check your gear. But, keep an eye out for danger, and don’t wander off.”
Murmurs of assent followed his commands, and people dispersed to do their thing. Mike spent the next twenty minutes checking the loads on his gun and testing his knife’s edge. Not that he needed to do either. His gear was always in topnotch condition.
He was about to go for a leak in the woods when he heard an engine’s high-pitched whine. On high-alert, he squinted into the distance. Soon enough, a spot of red came into view. It was the youngster, Liam, but something wasn’t right. He was coming in too fast, and he was coming in alone. “What the hell?”
The bike roared to a stop mere inches from the tip of Mike’s boots, and the smell of burning rubber burned his nostrils. “What’s going on, Liam?”
Liam yanked off his helmet, his eyes wild. “They got Neil, Sir. They killed him. Pulled him right off his bike and tore him apart.”
“How in hell’s name? I told you not to get too close,” Mike said with a frustrated growl.
“We couldn’t help it, Sir. One minute the road was empty, and the next, they were everywhere,” Liam sputtered. “I only got away because they were busy with…with…”
“What do you mean everywhere?” Mike asked, a shudder running down his spine. Something’s not right.
“I mean everywhere. There are so many of them. They’re spread out all around. Thousands and thousands.”
A shrill scream caused Mike to whirl around. He was in time to see a trio of zombies pounce on a young woman. She stood close to the trees, her back to the depths of the forest. As they pulled her to the ground in a spray of arterial blood, more infected emerged from between the trunks. Grey and silent. Deadly.
“They’re over here!”
“And here!”
Screams.
Gunshots rang out, and Mike spun in a slow circle. Liam was right. The horde was everywhere; their vast numbers stretched over miles and miles. “We’re surrounded.”
“Sir? What do we do?” Liam pleaded with a pale face.
“Do?” Mike asked, looking around as hundreds upon hundreds of zombies stepped onto the road. “We fight, son. That’s what we do.”
He unslung his rifle and aimed at the nearest infected. The .303 boomed, and a zombie fell. It collapsed in a tangle of limbs, a twisted snarl on its lips. Mike shot again and again. “Pull back! Pull back to your vehicles!”
Liam joined him, his pistol raining destruction on the nearest infected. His bike lay forgotten on the tar, and Mike shot him a look. “Get into my truck. Now.”
“But, Sir.”
“I said, go!”
Liam obeyed, and Mike kept shooting as he worked his way to his vehicle. His rifle was only one of many, and the air rumbled with the rolling thunder of gunfire. An occasional scream let him know another of his team was lost beneath the wave of corpses that surrounded them. “Move your asses, people!”
He could only pray they heard him. When his back pressed into the side of his truck, he whirled about and jumped inside. As he slammed the door shut, hands clawed at the window. Peterson followed a second later, flecks of blood marring his skin while Liam cowered in the back seat.
“What now, Sir?” Peterson asked.
“Mow the fuckers down,” Mike commanded with a vicious snarl marring his lips.
Peterson grinned and started the engine. “With pleasure, Sir.”
He jammed his foot on the gas, and they lurched forward with a grinding of the gears. The plow attached to the front hit the infected with a boom, and blood misted the air. Arms and legs flew everywhere, and the wheels crunched over countless bodies. Within seconds, the road was covered in a thick, jam-like mess of blood, entrails, and body parts. Their progress slowed to a crawl as the tires fought to gain traction on the slick mess.
Mike cracked open his window and shot into the crowd with his pistol. For every zombie he killed, two more took its place. He’d never seen so many at once, their rotten faces slavering for his flesh. “We need to get out of here. Take us back to the base.”
“Yes, Sir,” Peterson cried, yanking the wheel to the side.
The truck swayed from side to side as it attempted to turn on the slippery tar. More infected fell beneath the plow, and soon every nook and cranny below the hood was jammed up with fleshy goo. The engine whined with a high-pitched screech that stabbed into the skull like a sharp blade.
Mike cried out when the truck began to tip. “No, no, no. Straighten us out, Peterson!”
Peterson yanked the steering to the other side, but it wouldn’t move. “It’s stuck!”
“Hold on,” Mike yelled as the truck continued to tip.
With a crash, it fell over. Without his seatbelt to hold him in place, Mike tumbled on top of Peterson. The light faded to darkness as the infected mobbed the vehicle. Their bodies blocked out the sun.
Mike closed his eyes for a brief second. It was over. He knew that. Within seconds, glass rained down upon him as the window gave way. The first zombie slithered through the opening.
As the corpse fell on top of him, Mike raised his pistol and snapped off a quick shot. Blood, bone, and brains covered the inside of the cab, and Liam screamed. When another and another infected crammed inside, he accepted the inevitable. This is it, I guess.
“Liam. Peterson. Take care of yourselves. End it,” he cried before jamming his pistol into his mouth. His finger pulled the trigger, and darkness claimed his mind and soul.
Chapter 17 - Dylan
Dylan stamped her feet and blew on her hands. It was somewhere around stupid o’clock in the morning, and she couldn’t feel her extremities. “Why is it so cold? I thought it was supposed to be spring already?”
“It is, but you’ll still get your chilly days,” Nick said, handing her his jacket. “Take this. It’ll keep you warm until the sun comes up.”
“Thanks,” she said, shrugging it on. With her hands tucked deep into the pockets, she waited for the rest of the two bridge teams to assemble. “Is everything ready for the big fight?”
“Almost,” Nick replied. “The scouting and raiding parties have all returned, and we’ve heard from Parker’s team. They did what they could to slow the original horde and are on their way back.”
“What about Mike Hansen’s group?” she asked.
“We haven’t heard anything from them,” Nick admitted.
“I hope they’re okay.”
“Me too. I told Saul to give them as much time as he could before blowing the bridge,” Nick said.
“What if they don’t make it? And what if there are more survivors on the way?” Dylan asked.
&nbs
p; “If they can’t get across the river in time, they’re on their own,” Nick said. “We have no choice. Those bridges have to go.”
Dylan nodded. “I know, but it sucks.”
“While you’re gone, we’ll get the last of the defenses in place,” Nick said.
“Please, make sure everyone is safe. Amy, Jenny, Alex, Amanda, Tara…the lot of them,” Dylan asked. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to any of them.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sending Amy and Jenny to the community center as soon as dawn breaks. Everyone else will stay in their posts. Tara will be in the lab, and Amanda is helping at the infirmary. Brenda and Rita are there too. If they stay inside, they’ll be safe.”
“And Alex?”
“He’s fighting with the rest of us. You can’t deny him that,” Nick said.
“I suppose not,” Dylan said with a deep sigh. “But keep an eye on him for me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Jackson waved at Dylan. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“This is it, I guess,” Dylan said, reaching out to Nick.
After a lingering kiss goodbye, she turned toward her team and climbed into the passenger seat next to Jackson.
He eyed her with a grim look. “Are you ready for this? Because I sure as shit ain’t.”
Dylan snorted. “Not a morning person, huh?”
“Not on your life.”
As Jackson drove away, Dylan’s last glimpse of Nick was his diminishing figure in her side mirror, one hand raised in a forlorn farewell. This is not the end, my love. We’ll see each other again.
***
Dylan stared at the advancing horde through her binoculars. They were getting close. Too close for comfort.
“How much longer do we have?” Jackson asked as he wired the fifth bomb.
“Not long. Twenty minutes, maybe,” Dylan estimated.
“Shit, then we’d better move our asses,” he said. “Here, hold this.”
Dylan dropped to her haunches and helped Jackson finish setting up the second-to-last explosive. When they were done, she jumped up. “One more to go.”
Rise of the Undead (Book 6): Apocalypse Z Page 11