I'm Tired of Zombies | Book 2 | Full Scale War

by Murphy, James W.

  I loaded a fresh mag and yelled down to Ruth and Julia that we were inside now. Julia yelled back she understood. Dave was firing out the right side of the doorway, so I took the left. He was a better left-handed shooter than I was.

  The attackers stopped firing. We did also. Dave said, “What do you think they’re up to?”

  “I don’t know. Probably thinking of a way to out flank us, or something else – I hope they don’t have rockets. That drone pegged us you know it?”

  “Yeah, I figured. Wonder if they’re with that group from the doc. Man, we should have shot that guy when we had the chance.”

  “Nah, we did right. We didn’t know he was going to be bad. Surely, these guys didn’t know we were here. I bet that drone saw us come up from Yellowstone and called these guys on to us.”

  “I bet you’re right,” Dave said, then, “look; they’re moving to the south.

  Three of the four broke to the west, the fourth shooting our direction. Dave and I fired at the same time and we saw one of the three go down. The other two ran into a tree line that bordered a training facility for first responders. We couldn’t see them. I told Dave to keep watch, as I was going to the sporting goods section and get a couple of pair of binoculars.

  I sprinted to the back of the store where the sporting section was and busted a glass counter, grabbed two pair of binos and sprinted back to the front. I could hear Ruth popping a few rounds with her AR-10 as I pulled up next to the front. Out of breath, I stood panting for a moment before I tried looking.

  Rounds began hitting around us again. The fire was coming from that tree line. Dave returned fire with them even though he didn’t know where they were. I looked around the corner towards the eastern attackers and saw one lift to take careful aim at the girls. Ruth’s AR-10 fired, and I saw the guys head flip to the rear, and he dropped.

  “Ruth got one,” I said to Dave.

  “Man, I hope she never gets mad at me with that thing. I’ll have to run to another county somewhere,” he said as he continued firing at the western group.

  “That’s three of them down out of eight we know of. I hope none of them is trying to get around to the back. We’d be toast if they came in that way.”

  Dave stopped firing, looked at me for a second and said, “Not much we can do about it. Not enough people to cover this big of a place.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Hey, did you bring you’re fifty?” I asked.

  He looked at me and said, “Yeah, why?”

  “The roof,” I answered. I could see the light bulb go off. “There must be a way to access the roof in the back of the store. I say we get the rifle and go up there.”

  I could tell he was thinking about it for a moment but was undecided. Then he yelled for the girls to come down to where we were. “Fire at them and I’ll fire at those guys,”

  he said indicating I should shoot to the east. We both fired on single shot and when the girls got to our position, we stopped.

  Dave sprinted to my side of the door and gathering the group, said, “I’m going to get the fifty out of the truck and the bag of magazines. I need you three to give me some covering fire, one to the east, one to the south, and one to the west into those trees over there,” he said pointing. “Once I’m back inside, Doug and I, are going up on the roof and pick a sniper’s position. When we go, one of you fires to the east the other to the west, okay?”

  Everyone nodded in agreement and we all switched to fresh mags. I pointed to the ammo can for Julia and she nodded. Dave went to the corner and got ready. I ran across the entrance and got ready to fire to the western guys since I had a fair idea of where they were. Julia would take the east and Ruth the southern guy.

  Dave muttered, “On three,” and began to count. When he broke to the truck, the three of us began our fire. He made it to the rear passenger door and got the bag with the magazines, then dug in the bed for the rifle case holding the fifty. A round hit the bed just to his left and he ducked as another hit right where he’d been. A third round smacked the door.

  Both Julia and Ruth swung their fire to the eastern guy and no more rounds came from that direction for a moment. Dave jumped up and grabbing the rifle case, dragged it out of the bed of the truck and ran back into the store. He collapsed on the floor, out of breath.

  “You hit?” Julia yelled at him.

  “No,” he said between gasps. “I’ll be okay in a minute.”

  We stopped our fire and Julia went over to the ammo can and began reloading her mags. I did the same for Dave’s mags and mine. Ruth said, “I’m down to two mags. You think there’s any .308 back in the sporting section?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll go look since I know where it is,” and I took off down the aisle. There were eight boxes of ammo for her AR-10 and I grabbed them. That gave her another one-hundred sixty rounds. I ran back to the front and gave the ammo to her, and she began reloading mags.

  The four of us were ready after a few minutes and Dave said, “Okay, here we go. Julia, back to the other entrance and cover the east and south. Ruth, you stay here and cover that tree line. We’ll find a way up to the roof and you’ll know when we’re ready ‘cause you’ll hear the shot.” We all nodded, agreeing. Ruth and I kissed, as did Julia and Dave, then the two of us broke from the group and headed to the back. Julia broke to the east entrance and got ready. Ruth was ready.

  Dave led the way and we quickly found the roof access ladder in the back storeroom. He told me to go up with my nine so I could shoot the lock, which we could see. I did so, and we got out on the roof without problem. We low-crawled over to the southern edge of the roof and while Dave prepared the fifty, I eased my binos and head over the lip and looked. I could see both trucks and the guys near them. The tree line guys were different. With their dark clothing, it was difficult to discern them from shadows.

  “I’m ready, what’s first? You think we should kill their trucks or them first?” Dave said.

  “Them,” I answered, and then, “take the eastern guy. He’s about fifteen yards to the left of the truck and you can see him clearly from up here. He’s in a little depression. I’ll spot.”

  Dave slowly raised the barrel of the massive gun over the lip of the roof and getting to his knees, sighted the truck first then moved to the left. “Shooting,” he said. He took a deep breath, let it out some then squeezed the trigger.

  I’m glad I’d put in my earplugs but still jumped some. Those things always got me the first shot. When I got my binos back on the depression where the guy had been, all I could see were two legs. The rest of him was gone.

  Dave swung the massive gun to the south and sighted the truck. I had the binos up looking for the guy near that truck. He was kneeling behind an abandoned car to the right of the truck and I told Dave. He moved the barrel a little more and said, “Shooting.”

  As he was going through the breathing process, bullets began hitting around us and cracking overhead. We both ducked. The girls immediately began firing into the tree line and the fire all but ceased. Dave was back up in an instant and taking a breath, squeezed the trigger and fired. At once, I looked over the lip with the binos and simply said, “Hit.”

  I looked at the tree line again and still could not discern the other shooters. Dave said, “Shooting,” and fired again. The southern truck rocked from the hit, with steam immediately escaping from the engine compartment. “Now let them try to get to the other truck,” Dave said with a smile.

  I shook my head and said, “That’s good thinking. Maybe we can talk with these last guys and have a parley.”

  “Okay, I agree with that. Yell at them and see what they want to do.”

  So as loud as I could, I yelled, “Hey! You guys in the tree line down there! Want to talk about this now that your other buddies are dead?”

  Silence: Dave quickly fired a shot into the base of the tree line. Without the binoculars, I could see the big dust ball rise from the hit. One of the two broke from the trees and went b
ack to the truck, opening the back door. He pulled out a case of some kind and Dave fired again. I jumped a foot, not expecting the round.

  I got my binos onto the truck and saw the hole in the windshield but didn’t see the man or the case. “Did you see where he went?” I asked Dave.

  “No, the scope jumped with the shot and I lost him. He had a case – might have been a rifle case. I’m moving to another position in case he has a fifty in there,” and he got up and low crawled to the left about twenty yards. I went to the right about ten yards and looked over the edge.

  “Dave, I can’t see anyone in that tree line. They must be in the shadows, and I can’t see them at all. I’ll keep watching.”

  We didn’t have too long to wait as the first thing we heard was the bullet going through the wall where we’d been a few minutes ago, then the report of the fifty they had. Ruth and Julia opened up on the tree line almost immediately. Dave looked up over the edge and saw the dust disturbance where the rifle had fired from and quickly returned a round into the spot. Again, we could see the dust ball the big fifty caliber round lifted when it hit.

  Dave rolled five times to his right and waited. The next round, as the first, went through the wall where Dave had fired. This time, however, I was ready with my M4 and when I saw the disturbance from the blast, hosed that spot with a full automatic burst, emptying a magazine into the area.

  When my mag ran out, I ducked down and rolled to my right and looking back at Dave, saw his eyes open wide and he said, “Did you get him?”

  “Don’t know, but I hosed the spot where he fired from with a full mag. I guess we’ll see in a minute.”

  It wasn’t a minute. The big bullet went through the wall to my right about ten feet. Pelted with a few bits of concrete, I rolled back to that hole, swept aside the debris, inserted another magazine, and got ready. I hoped the guy wouldn’t shoot through the same hole again.

  “Dave, fire another round into the tree line. I’ll be ready this time.”

  “Okay, firing,” he answered then lifted the big rifle over the edge. He saw the dust settling where the guy had fired from and taking a guess, fired to the left of that spot about ten feet. I saw the dust rise from the hit and readied as Dave rolled to his left again about twenty feet or so.

  This time I actually saw the flash and immediately fired on full automatic into the spot. I was sure I must have hit him. No one could have moved that fast. Once again, I’d emptied the magazine, so I rolled to the left and switched mags, waiting. I looked over at Dave and he brought his finger up to his lips indicating quiet.

  It was several minutes later we learned the guy had a semiautomatic fifty as within ten seconds, five rounds came through the little wall we hid behind. We could hear Julia and Ruth unloading into the tree line and I hazarded a look over the edge. Their fire, raising dust in one specific spot, so I rose and firing on full auto, hosed each side of the area they were hitting.

  Dave popped up and quickly fired the last three rounds from his mag, dropped and rolled several times away from me, got up on his knees and duck-walked to the far end of the building. I did the same to the west, reloaded and waited.

  It got quiet and I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d hit them. I rolled to my left until I reached one of the holes they’d made, moved aside the debris, and looked at the tree line through the binos. I still could not make out anything. I put the binos down and saw movement. I looked up through the hole and saw a guy break from the tree line running to the east. He was dodging through the abandoned cars parked in the lot. I quickly brought my M4 up and had just flicked off the safety when Ruth and Julia, cut loose on the guy.

  Bullets were hitting cars all around him as he ducked and weaved among them. Glass shattered and pieces of cars flew. The guy was trying for the other truck I was sure, so I rose and began sending single shots at the guy myself. He was determined as he was moving and stopping, diving, and kneeling, then jumping up and running to the next car – he was incredibly lucky.

  That’s when Dave fired the fifty again. As usual, I jumped a foot. When I came back down, I looked at what Dave had been shooting at, thinking it was the guy. No, he’d just killed the second truck.

  Julia and Ruth continued their fire at the guy as he was still weaving and bobbing trying for the truck. Maybe there was another rifle in it. I inserted another mag, switched the selector to full auto, took careful aim, led the guy by about three lengths of his body and hosed the area. He went down in a heap and rolled around holding his groin. He was writhing in agony, obviously, when Dave fired - the guy no longer hurt.

  I got up and running over to Dave, knelt next to him and quietly we surveyed the area looking for other targets. Covered in sweat, cement dust, bits, and pieces of building debris, I looked at him and said, “You think it’s over?”

  “Maybe this round,” he answered. He looked up and I did too, trying to see that drone. Neither of us could see the thing, but Dave defiantly raised his hand and gave them an American one-fingered salute. He stood up and looking at me said, “I’m bushed. Let’s go get some water then some scotch.”

  I stood and together we looked at the damage to the building around us. It was God’s miracle that the two of us were not hurt from flying debris or worse. There were eight or nine huge holes in the short wall that we had used for cover. We looked at each other and seeing the tiredness, we hugged for a moment, relishing in the life we still had and unenthusiastically, trudged to the ladder.

  We met Ruth and Julia near the front entrance and embraced with them. Looking us over, they said we were filthy and needed cleaning up. We tiredly agreed and gathered spent mags and the ammo can then headed for the truck.

  It was another miracle the truck started as it had been hit nineteen times…and no flat tires either! The firefight had lasted almost an hour and the four of us drained a water bottle each. Dave and I poured two more over our heads to both clear the cobwebs and remove the dust and grit we still wore from the rooftop. My ears and I’m sure Dave’s were ringing something awful. Julia said she’d drive, and we crawled in the truck and drove down to the eastern truck first to collect weapons, ammo and intel.

  We search the three bodies that hadn’t been hit by Dave’s fifty and other than their light equipment and chest rigs, got nothing of real interest. The truck held some ammunition and magazines, which went with us. It did not have a fifty in it as we supposed. We collected their weapons then went to the other truck, stopping long enough to collect the weapons from the runner Dave had finished off.

  The other truck had two M4 carbines in the back seat along with magazines and more ammunition, which went with us. We were looking at the damage Dave’s fire had done to the engine when the radio in the thing squawked and a voice said, “Black one and two, sit rep.”

  The four of us looked at each other and I said, “Done deal, over.” We all laughed. I looked at Dave and said, “We need to take that radio. I don’t see anyone around, so it makes me wonder what the range of that thing is.”

  “Yeah, let’s do, but first, let’s see if it says anything else,” he replied.

  We waited and the same message repeated. Ruth and Julia walked over to the tree line and came back a few minutes later with a bag of fifty ammo and disgusted looks saying the fifty was ruined by the hit, not to mention the guy holding it. Apparently, when I hosed the area, I got both the shooter and the rifle.

  The radio squawked again and after that message, Dave grabbed the mike and keying it, waited a second then said, “Black One, done deal, over.”

  The radio quickly came back with, “RTB, time 1527, out.”

  “RTB?” Ruth queried.

  “Return to Base,” Dave said.

  “Oh, I get it,” Ruth said, “Thanks.”

  “Anytime. You think they bought it, the Black One thing?” Dave said looking at me.

  “I’m thinking they did since they said to RTB and gave the time. They must be taking notes on how long it takes to get from p
lace to place.”

  “Well, let me get the tool bag and we’ll remove the radio,” Dave said.

  Back at the bunker Dave, had the radio out and was looking at it. He took the cover off it and looked at the ‘innards.’ I’m not much on electronics, so I didn’t do anything but watch. He studied the thing for several minutes, then took out a pair of needle-nosed pliers and pulled out a small component, held it up to the light and said, “This is a tracker. I bet there’s one in that hummer that you shot those two in over by Centennial. You know, we could have some real fun with this thing.”

  “What do you mean?” Julia asked him.

  “When we go home, let’s stop up in the forest and catch an animal, tie this on it and they’ll be chasing critters for who knows how long,” he answered with a laugh and we joined in.

  We prepared dinner, got out bottles of scotch and wine and had a real nice evening. Dave and I promised each other we’d only have two drinks each. The girls said no such thing and sipped their wine well into the evening.

  The next morning, we hooked Dave’s truck back up to his trailer and unhooked mine. His was out of ammo and so we took mine. We went straight to the refinery and looked for another tanker truck with fuel and found one within an hour. Again, we had to jump the thing, but we did get it started and Dave, driving, led the way to the gas station to fill the tires then again parking the big rig out on Happy Jack Road.

  We drove over to the bunker, hooked up my trailer and pulled around to the tanker truck. We did the same thing, chaining his truck and trailer to the eighteen-wheeler, and headed home. This time we would go straight to their place and empty the load.

  We hit the forest and Dave got out the tracker. He fashioned a noose out of some nylon string he had and tying the tracker to it, put it on a small aspen he cut so that he could slip it over the head of an animal that got close.

  Julia, Ruth, and I took a lunch break as Dave went into the woods and, finding a game trail, climbed a tree and waited. I was not long before a mule deer doe came walking down the trail. As she neared, Dave readied the loop and as she went under him, he slipped it over her head. She bolted, of course and stopped about fifty feet beyond, looking back. Dave was sure she was wondering what had just happened. However, the noose was around her neck and she sauntered off going wherever she needed to go.