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

by Murphy, James W.

  Dave came back to the convoy, laughing. “What?” I asked him.

  “Put the tracker on a doe muley and it worked. They’ll be looking for that thing forever,” and we busted a gut laughing. Levity like that we needed, and it put us in a very good mood for the remainder of the trip and rest of the afternoon.

  We pulled out to go home and off in the distance we could see the gray clouds forming in the west. This was a clear indication we were in for a storm. The wind had picked up some and the air was getting heavy with humidity. It didn’t damper our moods one bit as we’d had a successful scrounging outing and lived through another vicious firefight that ended with us unscathed once again, thank the Lord.

  Julia and Dave cooked steaks and baked potatoes for dinner after we’d unloaded. The scotch and wine were flowing freely once again. The talk moved to the weather then to spring then to the underground greenhouses and the construction there of. It wasn’t long before the four of us were nodding our heads, not from agreeing with something, but from being exhausted. Ruth and I headed for the guest bedroom and Julia and Dave went upstairs to their room.

  The next morning, after checking the area, we had breakfast together, said our goodbyes as Ruth and I pulled out for Paradise Valley. The sky was gray and dismal. There was no wind, the humidity was high, and it was definitely cold enough to snow. We could feel the storm as it settled into our valley.

  Ruth was in the lead. We’d crossed the stream and were heading uphill towards our place when the first flurries began. It was peaceful, seeing the flurries coming almost straight down with there being little or no wind. As we drove along, I wished I were sitting up on the balcony above the porch watching this serenity from up there. It would be so relaxing.

  As we pulled up to the house, the flurries became full-fledged snow, not heavy yet but big flakes falling. Tomorrow morning would be beautiful as it looked as if we would get a good bit of snow.

  Ruth pulled in next to the house then backed her trailer next to the garage. I backed in right beside her and together we unhooked them. We parked the trucks in the garage and after I checked the plow on the ATV, pulled it to the front next to the doors in preparation of using it tomorrow to move snow. We locked up the garage and went inside.

  Ruth said she was going to start a jet tub bath and asked that I start a fire. I made the fire, putting in three logs so the big room would warm up, and headed upstairs myself. Our jet tub bath lasted an hour.

  Back downstairs, I restarted the fire and Ruth began lunch. The snow was now falling in full force. Huge, heavy wet flakes settled everywhere and the property, already beginning to be covered by the whiteness, was beautiful. Ruth had made coffee so I poured our mugs and went out on the front porch and watched the snow falling.

  It was so quiet and peaceful. I loved these moments of solitude, knowing God was with me and enjoyed the moment just as much as I. I prayed for Doug and Julia, Ruth and our health, safety, and well-being. I thanked Him for all the things He did for us each day and thanked Him for the snow. Ruth came out with her mug and we stood together, quietly, and enjoyed the scene together, sipping coffee.

  Chapter 8: Battle of the Snow Drones

  I’m glad I filled the wood box the night before. Ruth and I had finished our coffee and she took the mugs inside while I went for a load of wood. We went to bed and woke to a Wyoming Winter Wonderland. The scene that met our eyes was magnificent. Big flakes still fell almost straight down. The quiet was practically overpowering. Even our whispered reflections to each other seemed terrifically muffled by the presence of the snow.

  I went back inside, finished my coffee, and dressed for the work ahead. At the door, I put on my muck boots, heavy jacket, and thicker gloves, poured myself a travel mug of coffee and went back outside. I waded through the knee-deep snow, making a trail to the garage. Inside, I opened the front door and started the ATV with the plow. I went ahead and lay the chains out, as I knew I would need them this day.

  Once everything was ready, I pulled out and began moving the heavy snowfall. I paid attention to what I was doing this time, as I wanted to make sure the lanes I’d chosen to keep when I built the bastions would work, giving me ample room to move snow out of the front. It was about seven in the morning when I began and cleared the lane to the gate by ten.

  I shut the ATV off to open the gate and enjoy a moment of coffee and quiet, but, when the little ATV’s engine quit, I could hear another engine - drone – and it was low, and by the sound of the thing, flying from south to north up the valley. I quickly got behind a large tree and listened, wondering how long the thing had been flying around our neighborhood. I could tell by the sound it had passed my lane, so I got back in the ATV and raced back to the garage, closing the door at once. I didn’t bother to clean up the little rig, just ran for the house.

  Once inside, Ruth asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Drone is buzzing the valley,” I told her. “I’m going to call Dave,” and raced for the radio. “Dave, this is Doug, you up?”

  “I was wondering when you’d call,” Doug immediately answered. “You must have been plowing and didn’t hear the thing. It’s been in the valley for over an hour going back and forth.”

  “Yeah, it just passed the lane heading north,” I told him. “What do you think we should do about it?”

  “First, I’m wondering if they’re listening to us,” he replied.

  I hadn’t thought of that and said as much. “Since its lower, you think we could shoot it down?”

  “That would really bring them in then, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know, man, maybe they only have one of the things.”

  Ruth came up behind me and placing her hand on my shoulder said, “I think you two should shoot it down. Tell him that’s my vote.” I did.

  Doug responded with, “Then that’s three to shoot and one undecided, right?”

  “Get your fifty ready and I’ll get mine up. I’ll be in the eastern portal. Where will you be?”

  “North side attic – you take the south; I’ll take the north. Julia is going to be on the front porch with her .308.”

  “Okay, Ruth just said she’d be on the balcony with her AR10. If we see it, shoot it. Is that the plan?”

  “Affirmative, good buddy. Blow the thing to kingdom come. Talk to you in a bit.”

  “Out,” I said then ran for the Underground’s stairs. Ruth already had her SPSX sniper rifle upstairs in our bedroom with some ammo, so she went that way after collecting her AR-10 and a bag of magazines.

  Up top, I grabbed the hearing protection first, then two mags and the big rifle. I got an extra round so I would start with six, one in the chamber and five in the mag. When I opened the eastern portal, the snow was difficult at first, but I finally got a space cleared enough to be effective with the big rifle.

  First thing I did was check my compass I’d brought. I knew Doug’s place was just a bit north of east from me, I wasn’t sure, but their place just may be in the extreme range of these big rifles and I didn’t want to take the chance. I adjusted my aim east to south and not further north than true east.

  I opened the chamber, inserted the big bullet, and closed the bolt then inserted the magazine. I had just cradled the rifle into my shoulder when I heard a faint report from Doug’s rifle. I knew the sound must have taken around five seconds to reach my ears and wondered if Doug had been successful. I looked down at Ruth on the balcony and she gave no indication of a hit, so I waited.

  Several minutes later, I could hear the thing. With the heavy snow falling, I could not see it, just hear it, and it was traveling to the south. I ducked back into the Underground and got one of the barstools, went back up the portal and set the barstool so that I could use it as an elevated rifle rest for the fifty.

  I cradled the big gun into my shoulder, took several deep breaths to settle down, and waited. I got the barstool as I thought I’d have to shoot up to get the thing and there was no way I would be able to hol
d the huge weapon like one would a shotgun. We’d see.

  It sounded as if the drone was flying in line with the main road, so I shifted that way and watched. With the trees the way they were, I might get two shots, and looking through the branches, I saw it. It was huge. It had a wingspan of fifty feet or so and was about thirty feet long. It had two tails that went at an angle underneath the fuselage. It had two dark tube-looking things underneath that looked to me like fuel tanks. How wrong I was about them.

  I made those observations in just a second and swung my rifle in the thing’s direction. I would only have a few more seconds for a shot. I brought the big gun into my shoulder and at the same time took in a deep breath, exhaling a bit. I just did see the drone in my scope so pulled the trigger.

  I lost sight of the thing after the shot but could hear it droning on to the north. I wished I could talk to Dave from up here and remembered the direct com mikes we’d gotten from the National Guard base. I thought about going to get mine and radioing Dave to get his when Ruth came up the ladder and pulled on my pants leg. I climbed down.

  “Dave called and said for you to use this,” she explained. “He needs to talk with you. Did you know you nicked that thing?”

  “What?” I said looking at her and taking off my earmuffs.

  She handed me the mike set and explained further, “I saw a piece of it fly off when you shot. It looked like it came off the top of the thing.”

  “Really?” I asked her with a smile.

  “Yeah, didn’t you hear me yelling down there?”

  “No, earplugs and muffs - can’t hear squat with both on.” I put the mike on and activated it. Once the light came on, I could immediately hear Dave saying, “Doug, you there?”

  “I’m on Dave, what’s up?” I asked him.

  “I missed. Heard your shot, did you get it?” he asked.

  “No, but Ruth said I must have nicked it as she saw a little piece fly off the top,” I related.

  “It’s still going north. It’ll be my turn in a few minutes. I’m going to lead it about two lengths this time and see what happens,” he informed me.

  “Okay, with the trees over here I don’t get much time to aim and fire. That last shot was off the cuff – a quick shot after I saw it in the scope.”

  “Take the scope off and sight with your eyes. I think we’ll do better that way.”

  “Okay, I’ll give that a try, out.”

  Using the quick release, I removed the scope and flipped up the rear sight. The front sight, fixed, was in place. The rear sight, once up, was adjustable by elevation and windage. I had not fired the rifle without the scope, but I did know the method Dave had been speaking. The shooter, using the front sight only for the most part, would sight the target and the front sight together then bring the rear sight into alignment and fire.

  I had used the method many times with handguns during practice, but never with a rifle and certainly not a fifty caliber. It was worth the attempt, so I relaxed and took a few deep breaths to settled down and prepare. The snow was still falling, and the flakes were beginning to cover the rifle barrel, so I brushed the powder off.

  I heard Dave’s rifle report, faintly. I gave it a few moments and said over the mike, “You get him?”

  “No, heading your way. It’s turning to the southwest now and looks like it’ll be flying directly over your place. Get ready, out.”

  I could hear the thing heading our way and by the sound, it would most likely go over to the south of the barn. I got ready by tucking the weapon in tighter to my shoulder, taking a few breaths and letting them out and put the front sight where I thought the sound would bring the drone…and waited.

  A minute and I saw it. I moved the front sight to the drone, brought the rear sight to bear and pulled the trigger. The blast made the snow explode into a whiteout cloud and I completely lost sight of the flying spy. The next thing I heard was a swooshing sound and then my lights went out.

  I woke with Ruth kneeling over me, dabbing my face with bloody four-by-four gauze. My vision was very blurry, and my ears were ringing.

  “Wh…what ‘appen…ed…what?” I stammered.

  I could see her lips moving but could hear nothing. I tried to sit up and the room swam. Ruth forced me back into lying flat and continued to wipe my face with the gauze. I saw her lips moving again and I tried to talk, but my throat was dry and felt like it was full of sand and grit, which it was.

  “…oug? Doug? Doug, can you hear me?” the voice in my left ear said but it didn’t match the movement of Ruth’s lips and her voice had changed…it was much deeper.

  “What…Ruth…wha…happened to me?” I croaked out.

  “Doug, can you hear me?” the voice in my left ear said again. Not Ruth’s voice? Dave…that’s it, it was Dave talking to me.

  “Dave, I hear you. What happened?” I croaked again.

  “Doug, lay back and be quiet, I need to get you cleaned up, you’re a mess,” I heard Ruth say.

  “Ruth, it’s you,” I said surprised.

  “Yes, it’s me. Can you hear me okay?”

  “I guess. Ears are ringing something awful…what’s bleeding?”

  “Your nose and right ear and you have a gash on your forehead and another on your shoulder. You’ll be fine,” Ruth assured me.

  “Doug, did you hit it?” Dave asked in my left ear.

  “What?” I said.

  Ruth pulled the earbob out of my ear and threw it on the floor. She was looking into my eyes and said, “Your eyes are bloodshot. I hope they aren’t damaged.”

  “From what…what happened?” I asked.

  “Almost immediately after you fired that thing fired a missile or something at you and it blew up on the downward side of the eastern end of the Underground. There’s some damage and broken dishes and bottles and stuff, but we’ll be okay. Are you feeling okay?”

  “A missile?” I said unbelievingly.

  “Yes, a missile. It hit just under the lip of the Underground on the east side. It knocked you out and down the shaft. After the dust settled, I ran up here and found you out cold and bleeding. Can you move now? How’s your legs?”

  “Okay, I think…here help me up,” I said holding out my right arm and hand to her. I rolled to a sitting position and everything seemed to work all right. I rolled and getting to my hands and knees, rose to a kneeling position, and holding on to Ruth, tried to get up. The room began spinning to my left again. I grabbed Ruth and tried for the wall to help steady myself.

  “Are you okay?” Ruth asked again, concerned.

  “Hang on a second and let the world stop spinning, I’ll let you know then.”

  It took several minutes for things to settle down and once they did, we went into the kitchen and I sat down heavily at the table. The room was a mess with the debris of broken and shattered dishes everywhere. Ruth ran some hot water and finished washing my face, cleaning the blood from my ear also.

  “I think the concussion from that missile blast busted your eardrum. Can you hear me in your right ear?” Ruth asked.

  “Not yet. Clean some more of that blood out and maybe I will.”

  She ran more hot water into the bowl, got the turkey baster out of the drawer and using it, sprayed warm water into my ear, flushing out the blood. When the water broke through the blockage, I though I’d throw up I was so dizzy.

  Ruth tried talking to my right side and said, “Can you hear me in your right ear now?”

  “Yes, but muted, kind of like I’m in a fifty-five-gallon drum or something.”

  “I hope that’s a good sign. I’m going to pour you some scotch and you can sit here and relax. Then I’m going downstairs and talk to Julia on the radio. She’s a nurse so she can give me some advice.” She quickly dressed the other two wounds then left and came back in a moment with a tumbler with three healthy fingers of my good scotch in it. I took a good swallow and it was great.

  “Don’t move…don’t get out of the chair…I’ll be right b
ack,” Ruth ordered then left at a run.

  She returned fifteen minutes later, and I was out of scotch. I asked for a refill and she brought me the bottle. I’d sleep well tonight.

  “You didn’t hit the drone, but it almost killed you,” Ruth said. “Dave did get it, however. He shot it as it came over their place. It crashed near the creek, between that big pond and the creek crossing; you know where I’m talking about?”

  I nodded I did and asked, “He get it with his fifty?”

  “Yeah, and Julia had an M4 on full auto and added her rounds to the mix. She said it blew up when it hit, and it burned a little afterwards.”

  “What did she say about my ear?”

  “They are on their way over and she’s bringing her medical bag. She has one of those scope things to look in your ear to see if you’ll be okay. With the snow and the roads as they are, I told them they’d be staying the night…maybe two.”

  “May as well start thawing pork chops now and put some potatoes on to bake. I’m suddenly hungry. How bad was the Underground damage?”

  “You’re incorrigible. The window in the shop is cracked and the doorway is sprung – I can’t close the door. The hatchway you were in is okay and I did get it closed tightly. Your fifty is toast and it probably saved your life as a chuck of something hit it right next to the magazine and bent the heck out of it. The barstool is toast, too. I think the damage to the shop can be repaired without too much trouble, but you’ll have to look at it since you’re the man.”

  I gave her a discouraging look and she poured me another healthy shot of scotch, grinning. I sipped the strong toxicant and gave a soothing, mmmm. She shook her head said, “Come on let’s get you downstairs while you can still stand.”

  It took a while, but she sat me in front of the fireplace and threw three logs on the coals. It would be a few minutes before the flames caught, but it was soothing to look at the smoke curling up the chimney.