by J. W. Vohs
Carter looked doubtful, “Ya know we’ll be trapped in there, right? Eventually they find a way in or we starve.”
“I’m still working out the details in my mind, but I’m pretty sure that as soon as those fire trucks are ready we’ll be able to escape this place.”
Carter frowned, “Gonna let me in on that plan? What if ya get yerself killed out here without tellin’ anyone yer master plan?”
Jack chuckled as he explained, “Once we have everyone loaded up we’re going to go up on the roof and use every gun we have to clear the zombies away from the bay doors. Noise control won’t matter at that point.”
“You sure we have enough ammo to do that?”
Now Jack looked pensive, “Guess I’ll go inside and get some people working on an inventory.”
Carter was astonished. “Ya seriously don’t know how many guns and rounds we got?”
Jack shook his head sheepishly, “You know me. I’m better at fighting the war than keeping track of the details. Good thing you’ve still got my back.”
After ten minutes inside the fire station, Jack knew two facts: they were hours away from suitable transport for the people gathered there, and their supply of firearms and ammo was pitifully low. He considered the possibility of using the Hummer to make a breakout attempt for The Castle where he could reload with some massive firepower. He was pretty sure he could make it out if he had his Rangers with him, but by the time they returned the safe-house would be crawling with zombies, most of the people dead or hopelessly trapped.
Hoping for some good news, he went into an unoccupied room and called the courthouse only to discover that they were also facing hundreds of zombies in the wire, and from the sounds of moaning in the distance many others were on the way. The situation at the other firehouse was also rapidly deteriorating, and Jack told them to prepare for evacuation with all possible urgency. He figured that even if the courthouse lost its perimeter defense, they would still be able to defend the castle-like building, especially considering the modifications they had made over the past few hours.
Looking at his watch he was surprised to see that it was almost five-o-clock. He decided that in spite of the trauma endured by the RRTs in the battle at Hunters Ridge that morning, he was going to need to use them again this evening. He called The Castle to find Deb manning the radios once again. She joked, “You keeping my husband safe?”
“Safe as can be expected these days.”
“For some reason I don’t find that reassuring. You bring him back safe, Jack.”
“Don’t worry, that’s my plan.” He returned to the purpose of his call, “Listen, have you seen anyone from the Hunter’s Ridge RRT fight up and about?”
“Yeah,” she said slowly, trying to figure out where she had seen them. “Oh yeah, I saw Tina and John walk by about half an hour ago. My guess is that they were heading to get some food.”
Jack explained, “I need you to send for them and get them on the radio. Call me back as soon as you get them.”
Deb replied, “Ok, Jack, be back in five . . .”
Four minutes later John’s concerned voice came over the radio, “Hey, Jack, what’s going on out there?”
Jack quickly filled him in on developing events at the fire stations and the courthouse, then he asked, “Any of the RRT’s ready to move again?”
John let out a long sigh before answering, “Our guys are fine, but the civilians we’ve been training need time to recover both physically and mentally.”
“Ok, that will have to do. I need Todd to take a Hummer full of guns and ammo to Fire Station 1 to keep an eye on things and provide emergency firepower if they run into trouble. Send Bobby over to the courthouse with the same orders. They aren’t in as much danger over there, but I’d feel better if I had a veteran on site to firm up Barry’s resolve. He’s a businessman, not a soldier. He has those people organized, but I don’t know how well they’ll fight for him. Tell Bobby to find Drake Ross and Stanley Rickers. They’re two vets who worked out really well for me earlier today. They should be able to manage a couple of squads. You got everything or you need me to go over it again?”
John looked at the notes he had been furiously scribbling down as Jack spoke. He then looked at Tina, who had listened to the entire conversation. She shook her head so John declared, “No, we got it. We’ll call you when our people are on the ground.”
“Good deal, “Jack said, “and be careful out there.”
The sun was going down on a day that had begun with the terrifying raid on Hunter’s Ridge at dawn, and as the last light was fading from the sky, it seemed that the battles shaping up for this night would determine whether or not the humans in this area would be able to survive to face tomorrow. Deb, Andi, and the other adults back at The Castle had watched the last thirty-six hours unfold before them on television and what was left of the internet, and battles similar to those their people were facing here in northern Indiana were reaching the final stages across the globe. First, they watched and listened as reporters in the field were almost systematically destroyed by hordes of zombies that surprised the newsmen with their numbers and ferocity, and after the reporters and their crews fell, the major news anchors hunkered down in their studios until the power feeding their broadcasts blinked out.
Bloggers around the world continued to struggle to tell their stories over the net, using alternative electricity sources to run their computers until thousands of servers failed due to their own power woes. In the end, human governments and organizations simply couldn’t believe what they were seeing as the virus roared across the earth. Before the net went silent there were countless rumors, some of them undoubtedly true, of a few national governments managing to evacuate the “important people” from various capitols to doomsday shelters that had once been prepared to survive direct nuclear strikes. In some instances they would have had more success if they had faced weapons of mass destruction instead of a zombie pandemic since many groups attempting to go into hiding simply couldn’t leave infected loved ones outside of their shelters. The bottom line was that the battle for Noble County that was about to unfold was simply a tiny mirror reflecting the death throes of a mortally wounded world.
The people gathered at The Castle nervously discussed the world situation as they waited for updates on the struggles taking place at the safe-houses. All agreed that they weren’t alone given that, in the years leading up to the pandemic, many Americans had been preparing for an apocalypse of some type. These “preppers” had expected an economic collapse, a worldwide war, a plague, or even some sort of alien attack—in some ways all of these things had come to pass. Literally tens of thousands of compounds and retreats had been built and stocked around North America, many of them in places such as mountain ranges and islands that would be difficult for normally functioning humans to reach. While the news crews didn’t mention these places and the groups prepared to retreat to them as the disaster quickly enveloped the world, the people of The Castle knew they were out there and were certain that at least some of them would make it through the initial outbreak. So even as the world as they knew it died, a hard core of humanity readied itself for a Darwinian struggle for control of the planet against mindless creatures determined to destroy every living person on earth.
CHAPTER 19
Jack hadn’t asked for a news update from anyone, already certain that most people and their organizations would wait too long to effectively respond to the threat presented by the virus and the infected. Few people are ready to use lethal violence even when prepared for it. He recalled reading combat studies from World War II that reported only three out of ten riflemen were capable of firing aimed shots during a battle that they knew was coming, even against an enemy they had been extensively trained to recognize and kill. To his eye the newly infected were obviously the enemy, but what if the newly infected still looked and sounded like your friends and family? Beyond that, most people would be reluctant to shoot what looked to be
a drunk or sick human being, so what was good about people became a major factor in their destruction.
All of this Jack knew, had known for years, and he didn’t need to watch the news to know what was going to happen in the world once the virus was loose. The first blow struck by this mortal enemy of all mankind was going to be massively destructive, and Jack realized that humans would have to endure the initial zombie onslaught before they could truly begin to fight back. Right now the struggle was for survival; what was happening today was only the beginning of the fight against a mindless predator that would hunt until there was no more prey left to pursue. All of the speculation, theorizing, and study would be meaningless if the looming battles were lost, so Jack kept his focus on the tiny speck of the world he actually could influence. He had no time to watch the world crumble, only a fierce determination to save as many people as he could.
That determination was evident in his face as he walked along the line of guards facing the wood line, patting the bloodied warriors on the backs and shoulders and whispering words of encouragement as he passed. The killing of the zombies had continued as the sun slowly lowered in the west, and the bodies of most of them were added to the tree limbs and other debris the guards had been trying to build a barricade with. The barrier was only waist high in most places, but for the last hour not a single zombie had been able to cross it before being destroyed with halberds and spears. Another man had been bitten in the wrist just fifteen minutes earlier after missing with his thrust and opening himself up to an attack by a huge zombie that grabbed the soldier by the arm and yanked him across the makeshift wall. Troops standing nearby had immediately dispatched the monster, but the damage was done.
By the time Jack reached the end of the line he had counted nineteen fighters guarding the barrier, including Marcus and Bruce. They were defending a front of nearly one hundred yards, and Jack knew that it wasn’t going to be enough. Even now the brief lull in the fighting was ending as lone zombies were breaking free of the woods and moving toward the humans, but the cracking of branches and moans coming from the trees indicated that dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of the creatures would soon be attacking. Noise discipline was no longer an issue since the power had gone out more than an hour earlier. Now the generators were running and the portable lights were shining. Every zombie in the neighborhood now knew where the next meal could be found. Jack smiled grimly as he thought about this latest example of “damned if you do and damned if you don’t” playing out in his life, again wondering if God’s sense of humor was even more powerful than His love.
Finally he just looked at Bruce and said, “I’m going to check the front and then I’ll be back. I’ll be in the line with you guys in the next fight.”
When Jack reached the other side of the station he found the wire full of corpses, and one place where several zombies had actually made it through the entanglements before their skulls were crushed by mace-wielding guards. Carter was gingerly stepping through the last few strands of wire after leading a group of men out to stop a dozen zombies that had trampled over the bodies of others to reach a point less than ten feet from the end of the barrier. All of the guards were covered in blood and gore, moving slowly from the weariness brought on by a day of nonstop fighting. Carter hoarsely yelled at everyone to drink more water before coming over to Jack and explaining, “This can’t go on much longer, most of these guys haven’t slept in two days and they’re done.”
He led Jack over to the platform he’d been standing on earlier and picked up a set of NVGs. “Take a look out there beyond the perimeter.”
Jack looked out and saw that despite the hundreds of corpses littering the wire there were even more zombies on the way. As he continued to scan with the NVGs he murmured, “They’re homing in on the sound of the generators.”
Carter finished a huge swig from a bottle of water and suggested, “I think there may be more to it than that, Jack. I’ve been listenin’ to the noises they make, and I think the sounds of their moans change when they spot people. And they can still see things; they ain’t just movin’ by sound out there.”
Jack handed the glasses back, “So now we’re seeing zombies with varying speeds, communicating food locations, and using sight as well as sound to locate their victims. I guess I always figured that they could see in some way, especially considering how their eyes are all pupils after they change. On top of all that, the infected turn in less than twenty-four hours now; in Afghanistan it took at least a few days for that to happen. I’m not a scientist or anything, but I think the virus is mutating as it spreads. Bottom line is that the virus seems to be creating more dangerous zombies than what we saw earlier.”
Carter spat and added, “I missed the head and hit one in the shoulder ‘bout an hour ago. Damned thing looked me in the eye and roared at me. I’m sure it wasn’t pain that caused the sound either; it looked me in the eye and reached for me while I pulled my halberd free, and the eyes looked like a hungry predator. It knew that food was right in front of it, and that roar brought others in fer the kill. Gave me chills, Jack, they got some type of communication now.”
Jack let out a long sigh and shook his head, “Guess there were some things we didn’t learn about these things in that valley back in Afghanistan. Of course none of our new knowledge will matter if we don’t make it out of here.”
Carter asked, “They makin’ progress with the trucks in there?”
“Nope, they have the ladders off, but we don’t have enough materials to create platforms for all our people. They’re using torches to cut the ladders into pieces for a frame, and others are ripping walls apart for the studs. Some of the walls are made of plywood so they think they’ll get it done eventually. But I think we’re going to have to hold on for three or four more hours.”
“Ya think we should pull back into the buildin’ right now?”
Jack shook his head, “The more we kill out here the less we’ll have to fight through to evacuate. We’re going to need all of our ammo to blast a path for the trucks, so we can’t do too much damage from the roof.”
“Yeah, I guess yer right, but I’m hopin’ we don’t get cut off out here.”
Jack looked at him sharply, “You’re in charge over here, so don’t let that happen! I’m going to fight in back, so you’re on your own. Make sure these guys know how to retreat in order, especially on the flanks.”
Carter was a bit angry, “Look at ‘em Jack—they look like medieval soldiers to ya? We both know they’re gonna break at some point.”
Jack thought for a moment, “Look, as soon as you can tell that you’re going to have more zombies through the wire than you can handle, get your men into the building. Just do the best you can and get out, no heroic last stands over here.”
Carter sighed wearily, “I’m guessin’ we have less than two hours out here, maybe only one. Make sure ya keep your radio close and got some alternate way of knowin’ if we retreat, or of lettin’ us know if ya head in before we do.”
“I’ll set some of the teenagers on the roof to shout down updates in case we don’t hear the radio calls. Once you’re in make sure to put a good watch on the doors, and then come and find me. We’ll figure out something from that point.”
Carter nodded and held out his gloved hand, “Give ‘em hell over there.”
Jack smiled as he grabbed Carter’s hand, “Don’t make Deb a widow.”
Fifteen minutes later all smiles were gone as Jack stood behind the line of fighters facing the wood line along the sides of the station. He had sent Maddy inside to coordinate a communication system on the roof, as well as to make sure the exit doors were unlocked when they ultimately had to retreat. Jack was pacing along and peering into the shadows of the trees, which were effectively resisting the lights he had placed on the roof in an attempt to illuminate the battlefield. The zombies were still crashing through the brush in the woods, and if the moaning was any indicator of the number of approaching monsters, there had to be
hundreds of them just inside the tree line.
For several minutes none of the creatures had left the safety of the woods, which was very strange, even disturbing, as Jack considered Carter’s theory that the zombies were communicating with one another through their moaning. For the moment he was simply thankful for the respite from the brutal combat and holding onto the belief that something about the lights in their faces was preventing the zombies from advancing. Jack looked up and down the line at the warriors, that’s what they were by this point, waiting to continue what had been a day-long battle against the fierce monsters. If these people had been civilians three days ago, they’re hardened soldiers now, Jack thought as he looked at them standing tall with spears, halberds, and maces. They were killers in this war of extermination, and he almost pitied the zombies who were so determined to attack this place. Almost.
The helmeted, leather-clad fighters were covered with mud, blood, and pieces of bone and brain matter that had accumulated through the battle until they appeared to be covered in reddish-brown paint interspersed with grey and white blotches. The smell was beyond horrible when he actually noticed it, though a stiff breeze was finding its way around the square building often enough to keep the odor from becoming unbearable. Again Jack thought about the ancient warriors and battles he and his SCA friends had sought to recreate. They should have conducted their events in a slaughterhouse if they really wanted to know what ancient combat had been like. The reality of hacking apart bodies was truly horrible, and he knew that every person standing in the line was going through their own private struggle to maintain their sanity in the midst of this carnage against an enemy whose very existence defied logic and reason.
Suddenly Jack was tired. He was tired of fighting, of being afraid, and of constantly being pursued by these hellish creatures. Then he was struck by the realization that every person standing in the line had to be feeling the same way, and he knew that they needed to turn their weariness into anger. Something evil had been unleashed upon the world when USAMRIID conducted their experiments in Afghanistan a decade earlier, and the human race was now under assault by some sort of collective, hungry beast determined to exterminate every man, woman, and child on planet earth. Finally, mercifully, the emotion that had been growing in the center of Jack’s soul for ten years leapt into his consciousness and he realized that he held a holy, violent hatred for these creatures bent on the destruction of all that was good and beautiful in the hearts of people everywhere. Something in Jack finally broke, and a torrent of enmity for this mortal enemy of the human race washed over his heart and mind and soul.