“Well, I am sitting above it, so I might as well go.” It was obvious Terrance was still dazed from the blowout. Great, Terrance might be in shock.
Robert looked over to me, and for the first time, I saw concern in his eyes.
“Watch it, John.”
“Oh, I am more than ready to kick some zombie ass.” I said this faster than I should, and it did little to alleviate Robert’s concern. I took a second to calm down. “I know, Robert, I am focused and ready.”
“Use a knee stance and remember your count.”
“Yes, Dad.” I took some deep breaths, made sure the gun and bandoleer were fully loaded.
“We got incoming from behind.” Jane yelled in a voice that gave me absolutely zero encouragement. “Looks like at least a dozen, more behind them.” She fired. I looked at Liz and cocked the gun.
WTF? A dozen? “Rodeo Time!” I opened the door.
Stepping outside, I quickly noticed that Roy was still trying to move into position. Several people were firing from the back to cover my ass. Let’s see; nice tight kill zone? Check. Everything loaded? Check. Breathing controlled? Check. Let’s dance! The first one was pretty damn close and I was glad to have cocked the weapon in the Winnie, not something I would normally recommend. He was my age, in blue jeans and a black polo shirt. Something must have been wrong with one of his legs, because he dragged it slightly behind him. This guy would be easy. I aimed and pulled the trigger. You know, a shotgun blast in a closed space is really fucking loud! I moved forward and got to one knee. The second one was another piece of cake and he dropped right where I wanted him to. My plan was to stack them up, making a zombie barricade between the Winnies. After the first few, I couldn't hear a thing. It was all smoke and gore. The Winnies were doing their job and I could see some dropping on the road. By the time I reached five, my plan started to look like it would work. I caught a short break; used the time to reload and turn around. Oh shit, Liz and Terrance were still inside!
The next one came suddenly around corner and my little barricade saved my ass. She was a tall, young, redhead, who ran so fast I couldn’t get into a decent firing position. My shot caught her in the lower abdomen and she dropped in front of me and flopped about like a giant fish. I used my boot heel to pin her neck and blew the top of her head off. Macho? No. Just a really stupid thing to do and I got lucky and sprayed gore all over the Winnies and not in my face. After her was the deal sealer, manna from heaven. The guy was at least three hundred fifty pounds and maybe seven feet, bald, with blood covering his mouth and dripping onto a giant tattoo of Jesus on the cross that adorned his immense bare-chest. Ladies and gentlemen, this was truly a zombie’s zombie. This guy did not mindlessly run at me, but instead, kind of sauntered carrying with him a certain air of doom.
I have never been hunting, so until recently, I didn’t have a true appreciation of mass and velocity. 27 pellet #4 buck at close range is indeed an irresistible force, and does things to flesh and bone that are just plain wrong. He went down immediately and was the cork I needed.
A tapping on my shoulder told me the tire team was finally out. When I turned, I could see they were saying something to me. I always thought that reading lips is one of the coolest things in the world. Of course, I can’t. I just pointed to the tire, turned, and fired. The undead now had to crawl over their fallen compañeros, and combined with the support from the death machines around me, more than adequately slowed them down. Time to reload and check on the tire change. The way they were gesticulating at each other did not encourage me. God, this is going to take a lot longer than I thought! John, stay where you are and just do your job. Being temporarily deaf has some advantages. You are in your own little world and it’s easy to focus. I mean we could be overwhelmed at the front, over Roy, and I would not know. By now, I could take my time and get some practice using the Ruger.
Where the hell were these zombies coming from? We’re in the middle of frigin nowhere. Well, for Maine this would technically be called semi-rural, still, Where The Fuck Are They Coming From? The loud racket we had/were made/making was certainly ringing the dinner bell, but come on, somebody throw me a bone here. Now their numbers would seriously start to work against them, as they jockeyed for position to get at this confused dude with a shotgun. This gave Jane and the others more time to line up shots, and the carnage continued.
It took a solid fifteen minutes to change the tire; I was told later that was a very good time, considering our situation. While this was happening, things were going so slow on their end and I felt time going backwards. I just could not watch. It’s just a damn tire. I thought they had done this before.
I didn't see it happen, but I just knew. I turned and Elizabeth was on the ground leaning up against Winnie One. She was white, breathing fast with sweat covering her face. Her left arm was tucked into her right armpit. In her right hand, her sidearm. Why was she just lying there? No. Not Liz, we are so close. Not my Liz! My brain could not really register it. She must have caught her hand while changing the tire, just a cut. Terrance helped her into the Winnie. Mary was in the door yelling something to me and waving her hands. I knew it was my time to leave. As I stepped up and in, Mary grabbed my arm and pulled me a little. We looked into each other’s eyes. Rodeo…Over.
She was placed in the back. Later, Terrance told me that a young zombie girl, maybe around ten or so, had crawled under from the front where the shielding was not as low as the sides. She caught Liz unaware and bit off her little left finger and part of her hand. I went to her side.
“Let me amputate!” I could not hear myself, so I made a chopping motion. Maybe if we cut off her hand, we can isolate the infection. She just looked at me with sad eyes and caressed my cheek. Jane bandaged her hand and gave her some morphine for the pain. I knew that Robert was radioing the news.
After about fifteen minutes, my hearing was returning. My mind raced as I thought of a way, any way. No, no. Not My Elizabeth! More and more of my hearing was coming back. I know that people were talking to me, but I was in a fog. Liz and I just looked at each other. God, she is beautiful. I was trying to absorb every nanosecond I had with her. In this new savage world, you don't want to know the future, but I knew ours. My fate was set and I did everything to break time into little sections, trying to squeeze the moment, make time stop. I ignored everyone. My world was Elizabeth, a world I would never really know. After a while, she gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek and said in a soft brave voice, “Time.”
We stopped when the coast was clear. There was a beautiful rolling field on our left and the two of us exited the Winnie. No one said a word. Liz turned, stood a minute, and walked outside. She waved to Roy. The day was spectacular, sky clear, warm, but with a mild breeze that let you just smell the sea. We walked out about twenty-five yards. I was behind her. She turned and handed me her pistol. A couple of days ago, while cuddling in the loft, she told me it's a sin to kill yourself and I made the promise. Her eyes said she had made peace, but what about me. She turned her back to me.
I can’t…
“I love you, John.”
Do this.
“I love you, Elizabeth.”
I raised the gun and pulled the trigger. Immediately, I turned, dropped the pistol, and mechanically walked back to my vehicle.
I just sat there watching the countryside go by. Numb. One fucking flat tire and she was gone. “Elizabeth,” I said in a whisper. I felt hollow inside, as if I was full of dead dried leaves. I didn't want to cry or get emotional in any way. I wasn't trying to hide anything, it just wasn't there. Buddha once wrote, “Suffering, if it does not diminish love, will transport you to the furthest shore.” Fuck him. Was this what life was going to be like? No more sleeping in late, no more comfortable lazy Sunday afternoons, no more birthdays, Christmas, Valentine ’s Day, or the Fourth of July? Could we really live this way? Could I really live this way? Some primordial part of my brain told me to live, if not for me, then for Elizabeth, keep fighting. In t
he end, only three things matter; how well did you live? How true did you love? How deeply did you learn to let go? I now knew that I would never live well again, never truly love again, and it would be a damn long time before I would let go.
No one said a word, or if they did, I didn’t hear them. Roy continued to push abandoned cars out of the way. Somebody occasionally shot a zombie and we slowly crept toward our goal, toward the sea.
We were passing through a small town about a half mile from the harbor. I knew focusing on anything was better than where my mind was at, but I just couldn’t make it click. Looking out the window, I saw a few zombies off in the distance and a whole lot more scattered on the ground. Good, fuck them. Sections of the road were starting to get relatively clear. We were only slowing down when having to change lanes to get around any blockage. I closed my eyes, focus, okay, harbor next, what do I need to do? I tried to envision a checklist that I assumed Roy and Hammer had worked out. You would have guessed with all our free time the last few days, we would have had this part down cold, nope. I presume we would divide into covering fire, and loaders, but exactly where were the boats? What if the harbor was already overrun? How many trips to get all supplies on the boats? What if the boats were not there? What about other survivors? Why were there suddenly so many dead zombies around? I was trying to focus on the last question when the world exploded.
I was suddenly thrown across the Winnie and slammed into the far wall. What the hell? Glass, insulation, aluminum, and various crap were scattered everywhere. Everything slowed down. I could hear the rush of wind and the scratching of aluminum on aluminum. Smoke filled the cabin and there was screaming and lots of commotion. I just lay crumpled on my side trying to make sense of where I was and what had happened. Maybe this all was a dream. Maybe this is the way my mind has chosen to forget and escape. This could be kind of fun, if you knew it was just a dream. I looked around and I would swear I could hear a Beethoven sonata in the background. Oh, thank God! This is just a dream. This is all some weird response to shock. I tasted something salty in my mouth. Can you taste in a dream? I started to think really hard.
“I'm hit,” cried Norm, but he seemed very distant like hearing someone in another room, another place. I looked and the force of the explosion had somehow blown Jane out of the turret and inside our Winnie. She was holding her throat, blood squirting through her fingers. An explosion? Jane's a bad ass. Of all of us, she was going to make it! Boy, that looks so real. Wow. I have got to tell her about this when I wake up. Robert was looking back and yelling, but with all the noise and music, I could not hear what he was saying. His hand movements just didn’t make any sense. My right eye blurred as something hot dripped down my face. When I reached up, I felt some warm viscous fluid. I looked at my hands and they were covered in a dark red sticky substance. Nothing hurt, so this must be part of the dream. Things started to speed up and bang. As if pulled from a deep well, I was suddenly back and this was not a dream.
“GO! GO! It's an ambush!” I heard Robert roar. Sound was everywhere. I could smell smoke and something sweet. In disbelief, I looked around. The Winnie was an absolute disaster zone with supplies scattered everywhere. I turned at the sound of gurgling.
“Oh shit!” The right side of Jane’s throat had been sliced open. I leaped over to her and helped put pressure on the wound. “I need the medical kit, now” Back in the real world now, why could this not be just a dream and stop? The carotid was severed and everything I did was just a formality. “Stay with me, Jane. Don't let go, we can deal with this.” In pulses, the blood flowed like a river. “Jane. Come on, bitch, fight it! Jane. Jane. Stay with me.” I was now yelling at the top of my lungs. She rapidly turned pale and was dead before I could get a proper compress. In her eyes, I could see her go. There was someone there, someone real, cool, smart, sexy, and then nothing. Jane was gone. Norm had been hit with most of his right calf muscle torn away and you could see bone. I found the med kit, threw it to Mary and yelled something about a tourniquet. Norm had passed out from the shock and pain. Leslie was in shock, but still filming. I was envious that she could withdraw and observe all this shit as if in a theater. Oh no. Madeline cradled her sister’s head in her lap. Matilda was seriously wounded in the abdomen. A section had been ripped open and she was holding in some loops of small intestine. Her eyes were open. She didn’t move or moan, but just stared at the blood spattered ceiling.
I pulled myself up forward and grabbed the back of the passenger’s seat.
“Robert, did you see what happened?” I yelled.
“I think we got hit with an RPG.” He bellowed above the racket.
“What!” several of yelled at once.
“Bandits.” replied Robert.
“Jane's dead,” I said this to no one in particular. Leaning close to Robert, I whispered, “Norm needs his leg amputated and Matilda needs abdominal surgery.”
Roy's Hummer went screaming back the way we had come, Hammer was holding the rocket launcher. “Now what?” I yelled, again asking to no one in particular.
“Don't worry about Roy. He thought this might happen and he's got some big toys,” yelled, Terrance.
“Yeah, I know about his toys, but…”
“We got our turn coming up and I don't see Winnie One.” Terrance was in a panic, but hey, he insisted on driving.
“We are going on!” Robert yelled.
“Terrance, Doc planned the route. He knows where to go. We stay on course,” I said to calm Terrance, and me too.
As we made the turn to our final stretch of the road, I felt the shudder, and smoke poured from the engine. It was as if the Winnie had developed the hiccups. We slowly staggered forward, and then she stopped. “That's it, we’re toast.” Terrance announced in a remarkably calm voice.
“John, are you in the game?” Robert asked in a dead serious voice.
“Yes, Robert, I am in.” I just never thought of this as a game. I looked around and chambered the shotgun. The place was a fucking disaster area. I got some compresses and went over to M&M. Whatever had hit Matilda, had ripped her belly from side to side. I opened a bottle of water, soaked the bandages and carefully removed her hands. Almost dead center was about a five-inch incision where the abdominal muscles and peritoneum had been severed. Protruding from this gap were several stands of pinkish grey fat sausages that was part of her small intestine. M&M both looked at me with eyes pleading for hope, but I had none to give and Matilda was going to die. After gently placing the compresses on the wound, I turned to Robert. “Robert, would you get me the Saran Wrap from the floor over there.” Mary joined me and let out a little gasp. “John?”
“Mary, let’s get her some morphine. It’s in the right side pocket with the autoinjectors.” I leaned in close so the sisters could not see my face and whispered, “Mary, we have to get some defenses going. You take care of Norm and Matilda. Just manage their pain. Don’t waste the antibiotics.” I sealed the wound with the plastic and taped everything in place. Robert was now outside, shooting at something. I went to join him.
“Terrance, get your hands off the steering wheel and your fucking ass in gear and help Mary.” I yelled.
When I stepped outside, the circus was definitely in town. At least ten were coming with more following. Here we go! Robert in action is a sight to behold. He dropped six of them in about ten seconds. He seemed to anticipate their movement. It was as if the zombies walked into his shots. I got up next to him and nailed the closest three.
“We need Winnie One back! Norm and Matilda will have to be prone. With supplies, I don’t think we will all fit.” I dropped two more.
“We’re real close, maybe half a mile to the harbor.” He dropped four and looked over to me. Ah, damn, here it comes. “Let’s work our way back and get a better view. Some of us might have to hoof it.”
Shit! Why is it always me? I'm not a soldier, I'm a fucking anthropologist!
“Yeah, I kind of figured that.” Robert, may you die in a gre
ase fire.
Winnie One pulled up next to us.
“So, Robert, what are our odds?”
“Not really fucking good,” he hissed as he scanned the road around us.
“Is that the line out of Vegas? You think those guys…” Kaboom! A huge explosion from the direction we just came. The shock wave knocked me on my ass and blew out store windows.
“Robert?”
“Stay in the game! Let’s take the group in front of us while they’re still confused.” We calmly walked up to a group of five zombies about twenty-five yards from us who were mesmerized by the smoke and fireball, and blew them away.
I jumped when Tim opened up with the SAW. Derrick joined us with his Glock and for the next fifteen minutes, it was just rinse and repeat while they loaded up the Winnie. Almost all of the undead came down the road from the north, where the blast had been. They were mostly clustered in groups of three or four. Overall, they were never a real threat, I wonder how many were coming after us, and are now sidetracked by whatever the hell went boom. Those that came out of the various alleyways, side streets, and from the south, were never more than two, Tim usually did the job before I even saw them.
Once the supplies were loaded, I gave Mary a hug and waved goodbye to the rest. Norm was asleep and absolutely white. Matilda was covered in blankets and her head was again in her sister’s lap. Zack had placed IVs in both of them. Leslie just kept filming. I’m starting to think there is something really wrong with that girl. There was not any discussion or explanation; just this group-wide assumption that Robert and John would walk to the boat. They slowly limped away and for the first hundred yards or so, we kept up. Everyone who could hold a gun was shooting at anything that moved. The Winnie was like the Death Star and we were two TIE fighters. This could work! Then the confident giddy feeling started to wane in direct proportion to the increasing distance between the Death Star and us. Robert looked me.
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