by Won, Mark
“Do either of you two marksmen know what’s for supper?” I had to ask.
They both just laughed some more, that time at my expense. They knew how much I enjoyed a fine spread.
We decided to call it a day and bring the sheep into the barn. On our way down the ladder a shot rang out, and I saw John flinch and almost let go of the ladder. He was the middle one coming down, so if he fell he’d have hit me on the way to the ground. He had blood on him.
Then another whole fusillade opened fire on us. It was coming from somewhere to the south. If it originated from off my property then the shooters must have been at least a hundred yards away (not counting the downward angle from the silo), because that was how far it was to the wall. At that range we should all have been riddled with more holes than Swiss cheese. Fortunately, they were the most unspeakably bad shots.
Luke took a couple of hits and fell, but John caught him on the way down. That kid’s strength is unnatural. I took a couple of hits too, but my armor held. Just a couple more bruises to add to my collection. I slid straight to the earth, letting gravity do all the work. Then I saw John try the same thing. With the only difference being that he had a bullet hole and only one hand to work with. Still, he made it, if not gracefully.
The shooting had stopped, so I guessed that the only way our antagonists had been able to hit us at all was because we’d been so high up. The silo measures one hundred twenty feet high. The berm wall is only twelve feet. My trees top out at one hundred fifty, but most are much shorter fruit trees. I did some quick math and concluded that the shooters were probably in the arbors just to the south of my property.
I hit the alarm on my remote to let the ladies know were were all in danger and tried to help drag Luke back to the house. John made me feel like a ninety-eight pound weakling the way he tossed Luke over his shoulder. I had the impression that he’d done that sort of thing before.
We got back to the house faster than I would have thought possible, under the circumstances, and I ordered the girls to get into the super bunker and man the turret gun. Then John took Luke downstairs after them.
Luke had been wearing body armor of his own when I’d found him and that’s the only thing that saved his life. It was a military grade full armor suit made with quality nanomaterials (I had been quite jealous). The bullets had impacted his upper back and head. The helmet had held but Luke’s head still took a pounding.
I told Sue that I thought he’d be fine. Then I looked at John’s wound and saw that it was much worse. The bullet had missed his spine but he looked gut shot. Without a doctor I didn’t think that he’d make it. There was no way I could sew him up.
I got on the horn and called Haven. Maybe they had a doctor. Maybe they could get one here in time. Maybe the doctor could take a boat across the bay and then drive the rest of the way. Maybe that was too many maybes.
It took forever but I finally got ahold of a radio operator from Haven. He passed my request up the chain of command. Apparently, Mark was busy elsewhere, but eventually I got in contact with some kind of military official by the name of Floyd. He wanted to send a doctor by plane. I hadn’t even thought that a possibility. We agreed that I would meet the plane at the airport just to the south of town. Loyd said they’d be there in an hour or so.
That didn’t give me a lot of time so I made sure Sue remembered the security codes to the turret gun and headed out. I took the truck since the van was such a mess. I know it sounds irresponsible to leave two wounded men and their wives alone, so recently after taking fire, but I didn’t see that I had much choice. I did have some hope that the bandits stalking us would be held at bay in the false belief that the fence was continuously electrified.
Once through the front gate I kept my eyes open for more bandit scum. I made sure to circle wide, just in case they were keeping position to the south. I did run down a couple of zombies that the Haven folks had missed. That hadn’t been my intention when I’d set out, but there were still some wandering around, getting in the way.
After a bit I turned south and everything went well for about a mile. Then I came under fire from somewhere off to my right. There was plenty of cover in that direction in the form of a wide thicket covered undergrowth. Perhaps, if it had been night I could have seen the muzzle flash well enough to do something about it. As things were, I had neither the time nor inclination to screw around with a bunch of overzealous murderous fools.
I accelerated past their position as quickly as possible, taking fire the whole way. Looking back, I noticed a couple of cars pull out from a side street driveway and start to follow me. I couldn’t have that, so I determined to lead them off course for a bit before dealing with the problem.
They beat me to the punch by moving up fast. I could see guys hanging out of all the windows, pointing their pistols in my direction. I had been afraid something like that might happen.
All those shooters firing at us on the silo was a bit much for a coincidence. I had to figure that the bandits had been casing my place for some time, and had just been waiting for an opportune moment to strike. The boys and I had our shooting match almost every day, so for the bandits to figure out a good time to hit us wouldn’t have been difficult. Ever since everyone left I hadn’t been keeping anyone on camera watch. That would have to change.
As they came up behind me I began swerving a bit just to make things difficult for them. I plucked another one of my home made grenades from my vest.
My grenades used a short piece of coat hanger wire for the pin. Now that sounds a lot easier to pull than an actual grenade pin, but even so, I wasn’t about to try and pull it with my teeth. If I tried that too often I’d need a dentist as sure as John needed a doctor. I tried gripping the wheel with my knees, swerving right and left, while removing the safety band and pulling the pin out at the same time. It’s a maneuver I’d practiced countless times but not so much in recent years. Staying out of the loony bin does take some effort, after all.
I mean seriously, why would anyone, especially my own family, my own flesh and blood, think I needed any kind of headshrinker, with all their nonsense headshrinkery? Can’t a man toss a few harmless (but weight accurate) duds out his own car window, on his own property, just for fun? And I think the most important point here is that history has proven me right. It may seem like, ‘I had everything I needed’. But, ‘I needed everything that I had’. That included hours of relentless practice.
Anyhow, I got the bomb armed and made sure to toss it out the window during a slight rightward swerve. That way my pursuers couldn’t see what I was dropping out the window.
The lead car drove right past it, but the second car back caught the blast just under the hood. The explosion ignited the gas tank. It was beautiful the way the orange flame burst out in all directions, fire consuming everything, the car coming to a spectacular halt, plowing into a telephone pole. Several bodies impacted air bags only to be incinerated by the pervasive flames. Now that’s my kind of performance art.
All that exploding caught the full attention of the other driver. He pulled up double quick before I managed the same thing with him. I left him in my dust while he pulled over to his buddies’ car to see if anyone was still alive. Fat chance. A dumb move, too. Never bring a pistol to a rifle fight. You know, unless you’re really close.
I pulled over about a hundred twenty yards away, and using my truck as cover, let Emma have her way with them. After I shot out the tires and put a couple of rounds under the hood they all baled out. The two who were left by that time tried to use their car for cover. What most people don’t know about using a car for cover is that a proper rifle bullet will pass right through a couple of car doors, no problem. So that was the end of them.
I decided then and there that I was done playing around with those gutter trash. If this was how it was going to be from now on, then it was no more ‘mister nice guy’. I was heart set on hunting them down and rooting them out. When I caught up to them I’d smite
them hip and thigh and we’d just see who had the jawbone of an ass. My blood was up. I popped a nitroglycerin pill before I got myself into trouble and got back in my truck.
When I got to the airport I drove into the parking zone and almost turned off the engine. Coming to my senses, I pulled the truck around to the runway. Old habits die hard.
The runway was blissfully clear of any zombies. I expect that the fence running around the whole place had a lot to do with that. Then the door to the control tower burst open and out spilled a handful of the walking dead.
Straight away those idiots started chasing my car. It would have been comical except for my potential time constraint. I had no real idea how long that plane would take to arrive. I had to assume they were in a bit of a rush, just like me.
I drove along the side of the tower just to keep them off the runway. Once I got well ahead of them I turned about and charged. I figured my bullbar could handle five zombies. At least that was my thinking before I noticed that one of them had pulled ahead of the pack and was loping along instead of the usual bumbling gait.
My truck smacked straight into his torso, crushing him to the ground. The ogre fell under my vehicle but I missed his head with the tires. My truck started roaring and I could tell right away that I was dragging something. The check engine light came on and I suddenly had a wicked shimmy. A quick glance in the rear view mirror showed that horror throwing an arm over the tailgate. A second later his head was rising up into view.
Meanwhile, the rest of the zombies went down before the might of my American-made prize of the automotive industry. Those chumps I wasn’t too worried about, although they did all get back to their feet. It was the one crawling across the bed of my truck, intent on the cab’s rear window, that had me concerned.
I brought my truck to a screaming stop and jumped out the door just as I heard a fist smash the bullet resistant glass behind me. I was in such a hurry I left my beloved Emma in the passenger seat. I figured that she’d only forgive me if I survived, so I drew my .44 automatic and waited for the ogre to get it’s bearings and come straight for me. I’d hoped he’d be easier to hit that way.
That damn dumb monster had got himself stuck in the window and was twisting the metal trying to corkscrew his way through. At that rate I was afraid he’d do even more damage to the truck. Maybe accidentally rip the steering wheel off or something. I lined up a shot and blew the cap of his skull off.
I thought that would do the job for certain, but no go. Somehow the bullet had ripped the top of head off, leaving an exposed brain untouched. It didn’t seem to bother him very much. I gave it another shot and that did the trick. It was going to be a messy ride back home.
By then the ‘normal’ zombies had all got up and were shuffling toward me, so I took them down nice and easy, one shot each. Then I retrieved Emma.
I got back in the truck and checked for damage. It looked pretty bad. I had fluids dripping all over the place and I’m not just talking about the gore from the ogre. There was a weird tear in the gas tank, the muffler was partially detached, I think there might have been a bend in a wheel. I quit looking for specifics and started looking for another ride.
I had to guess that if I didn’t find something before the plane arrived, the doctor would take one look around and invite me to a plane ride back to Haven. That’s if the pilot was feeling generous. It was just as likely that they wouldn’t be able to handle another passenger and would have to take off without me. Not that I would have flown out of there anyway, with friends back home in desperate need.
The pockets of the five monsters I’d killed all had car keys. I took that as a hopeful sign. When I ran back to the regular parking lot and started pushing buttons on key fobs I got four out of five responses. The one I chose was a simple four door with a full tank. I was not looking forward to getting shot at in that thing, but I was out of time. I heard the plane approaching.
I drove back around to the runway and grabbed my CB off the truck’s dashboard and established contact. The pilot landed and taxied over to me.
When the doctor got out of the plane I was afraid he’d take one look at all the wreckage and dead bodies strewn about, and quit the job. The man didn’t even seem to notice. How times had changed.
The pilot was in a hurry. He turned about and was in the air before I’d even gotten the doctor situated riding shotgun. I was surprised to see that he’d come armed, even if it was with just a puny little .32. One didn’t generally think of doctors being armed.
As I drove us out of the airport I introduced myself. He told me his name was Smith. Doctor Jed Smith. Then I told him we might come under a little gunfire on the way home.
With a sigh of long suffering, “How much gunfire?” he asked.
“Not to much, I shouldn’t think. Just some local hooligans trying to murder people and steal their stuff.”
He didn’t seem too worried about it, “Has that been a problem in these parts, much?”
“Well, I’ve had more run ins with the city trash than I’d like. But I’m going to kill them all real soon. Just as soon as you patch John up, I hope.”
“That’s probably for the best. Have you any idea where they came from? Since they’ve formed a sizable group, I assume that they were all from a relatively large area that wasn’t hit by the Change.”
I told him, “They just showed up one day, using a woman, Alice, as bait. She was kind of busted up by the whole experience so I never really got around to questioning her about it too much.”
The doctor seemed pleasantly surprised, “Oh, Alice, yes, I remember her. Nice job on the splint. That could have been a problem. Someone will have to talk to her about it.”
I was confused, “About what? The splint?”
“No, no. About where all your brigands have come from. If she knows, that is. Incumbent Herzog is trying to make a map of which areas were affected by the change first, second, and so on. And of course, any areas that weren’t affected at all. You know, Just trying to get a handle on the whole business.”
“‘Incumbent Herzog’? What’s that mean?”
The doctor informed me of the establishment of a formal government, complete with a constitution. Mark was the first de facto ‘Incumbent’, and his last name was Herzog. I suppose it had to happen but it seemed a shame, nonetheless. A bit soon after the collapse of the previous regime, too. The good old U.S.A. wasn’t even dead three months yet, and it was already being replaced by something local. Seemed a little disrespectful to me.
Don’t get me wrong. I know that governments have always been vessels of corruption for the promotion of war abroad and tyranny at home. Equally despicable, inevitable, and necessary, I would have preferred to avoid them in my lifetime. Simultaneously, I had to recognize the value of any step toward maintaining civilization, even if it was governmental.
I made a note to ask for a copy of that ‘constitution’ the doctor had mentioned. It’s always good to know all the rules just in case you have to play the game. I’d personally had enough ‘eminent domain’ to last me a lifetime.
On the way back I drove much faster than I would normally have found prudent. My plan was to get back before the bandits had a chance to do anything creative; anything that would make my time on this earth more difficult. I proved to be too late.
Taking the most direct way home, the doctor and I saw a roadblock up ahead composed of abandoned cars set side by side. I came to an abrupt halt and threw the car into reverse before the first shots rang out.
I said, “Don’t worry Jed. These guys are lousy shots.”
“How comforting.” He pulled out his revolver and checked the cylinder.
I tried another way around, but it was blocked too. I was beginning to sense a pattern, so changed my plan of engagement accordingly.
After withdrawing under light fire, to a more suitable range, I pulled over, got out, and set up Emma on the hood. I’m not a great shot, but at four hundred yards it would be a fool wh
o stepped into my cross-hairs. In case you haven’t noticed, I had a real low opinion of those stupid thugs’ tactical sense.
The doctor was starting to look a little nervous. “Why don’t we keep moving?” he asked.
“By now I’m sure that they have all the ways back home cut off. With any luck this little maneuver will draw them all off and we’ll be able to slip past whatever Emma doesn’t eliminate.”
“Well, as long as you have a plan. So, what can I do to help?”
I was really getting to like this guy. You know how most doctors are such stuffed shirts. “I’d appreciate it if you’d go over behind those bushes and just keep real still. With any luck they won’t even know you’re here. Maybe lie flat.”
While he was doing that I killed the three guys that were guarding the roadblock ahead. I’d made sure they had enough time to call in reinforcements. I would have preferred to just kill them and advance past their position, but things as they were, I couldn’t be sure whether they’d called for help or not. I couldn’t afford to get caught half way around the roadblock and I didn’t want to be sitting around waiting for their help to arrive either. Just to make sure I grabbed my own CB and called out my own message.
“Attention, human trash. I’ve just killed the screw heads you left at the corner of Pansy and Creme-puff. Come and get me.” I thought that ought to do it.
The next crew weren’t long in coming. I’d been somewhat careful about my placement. This new bunch came from the right. I killed the driver at one hundred fifty yards. The car was moving over fifty when it hit the curb and flipped. I kept firing into the wreak until I knew the job was done.
Another car came from the left. They got a similar treatment. It was really too easy. Beneath my practice. Fun, but beneath my practice.
The third group managed to pull around the corner just twenty-five yards ahead. I’d heard them coming and shot the driver and his associates before they’d finished the turn. I gave it another two minutes, then got back in the car and went back to the first roadblock.