Taking It Back

by Joseph Talluto

  I hit the send button. “How’s the area around me?” I was ready to get out and get to work.

  “Just fine, the worst has passed and they are now spreading out along the fence,” the sheriff reported.

  “Any activity around the blue container?” I asked. “Charlie said he was hearing digging sounds.”

  “Nothing on this side. His door is clear.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’m heading out.” I wondered what Charlie had heard.

  “Hey, John?” the radio started again.

  “Yeah, Tom?”

  “I was told to give you a message.”

  “Was it from a smallish, green-eyed woman with a gun?”

  “Yep. Consider it sent. Harlan out.”

  I chuckled in the dark. Sarah was pissed and I really couldn’t blame her. I imagine Charlie was going to get an earful as well if we lived through this.

  I stepped up to the door and unlocked the chain I had wrapped around the door poles on the inside of the container. Normally these containers had all the locking mechanisms on the outside, but since I was in and wanted to keep things out, it presented a small problem. Fortunately, we were able to secure the doors and I opened one cautiously and looked out. There was no one in front of me and trusting to Harlan’s assessment of the situation, I assumed there was no one where I couldn’t see them.

  I stepped out into the open and pulled out the small stepladder I had brought with me to the container. Charlie had one as well and I used it to quickly get up on the container. The ladder was little more than four feet tall, but it got me on top, which was where I needed to be. I hauled up a small duffle bag, which contained my ammunition, and slowly walked to the end of the container.

  From my vantage point, I could see the mass of zombies milling about the fence. My original estimate had been around two thousand. Looking at the horde in front of me, I figured I was short by at least a thousand or two. I let out a long breath, then started to set up for my job.

  I laid out my rifle, a scoped AR-15, and placed all the magazines I had within easy reach. Thanks to Charlie finding ammo at State Center Bravo, I had five hundred rounds with which to work. I only had six forty-round magazines, so some reloads were going to be necessary, but that didn’t worry me too much.

  I placed my backpack on the container, intending to use it as a rest for my sniping. The zombies were effectively three hundred yards away, and I needed every advantage I could get. I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and looked over at Charlie’s container. A small dog was sniffing around the base and scratching at whatever it was dogs scratched at when they wanted something. I laughed at the thought of big Charlie being afraid of a rat terrier.

  I clicked on the radio and called Charlie into action. When he asked about the noise, I told him just to get in place and not worry about it. Within a few minutes, Charlie was on the top of his container, set up the way I was. Charlie doused the dog with water from his canteen and it ran off. In all honesty, the dog actually astonished me, since I hadn’t seen one since the Upheaval. Most family pets had been devoured when the worst hit and their owners turned and the few in yards had been eaten as well. That little guy must have managed to escape and was living wild. Good luck, buddy.

  Our activity had attracted the attention of a few zombies and they started to head back in our direction. They would be first.

  I settled down and sighted in my first kill. It was a man in a threadbare business suit, missing one shoe and most of his face. His left eye hung out of its socket and bounced crazily as he took staggering steps across the field. I let out a breath and pulled the trigger. The rifle cracked loudly as the .223 round punched through the air and penetrated the man’s grey forehead. The back of his head blew outward and he dropped backwards, his eyes finally seeing nothing. The smartass part of me wondered if his left eye was relieved from seeing nothing but feet.

  The shot turned heads and the group started towards me in earnest. I shifted my aim and started to work, shooting the ones closest to me and working my way backwards. It got a little gross as the zombies got closer, not only from looking close up at dead faces and shooting them, but the ones who had fallen were pulped by hundreds of feet squishing them into the ground. Several of the ghouls were falling down, tripping over permanently dead comrades. I missed a few shots that way, aiming at a head that suddenly dropped out of sight just as I pulled the trigger.

  I changed magazines when the first one went dry, adjusted the power on the scope, and went back to work, dropping the Z’s as they got closer and closer. The mass of the horde started to shift my way and I was going to be facing a real dilemma soon.

  When I ran out of magazines, I had left about two hundred zombies dead on the grass. They were about fifty yards from me and closing in. I worked my way back along the container, taking my supplies with, then dropped back on the ground. I tossed the materials back into the container, then scooted inside. I secured the door and waited.

  Sure enough, Charlie started his killing, which was designed to draw the mass away from my container over to his. I sat on the floor reloading magazines while outside zombies died. The light from my flashlight was accented by sunlight as some of Charlie’s rounds penetrated the sides of the container. That was why I was on the floor.

  After about ten minutes of constant firing, the shots faded away, and I figured Charlie had beat a retreat like I had done. I waited to hear the next round of shots, and sure enough, there they were. Sheriff Harlan had gathered everyone with a scoped rifle to the wall and had stationed them at intervals. They were to pick up the firing once Charlie and I had ducked for cover. I waited until I had counted about one hundred shots, then called the Sheriff on the radio.

  “Sheriff—Talon here. What’s the situation?”

  The radio hissed and then I heard, “Not bad. You look cleared to go.”

  “Thank you. See you topside.”

  I checked in with Charlie and he said he was reloaded and ready to go.

  I shrugged into my backpack, making sure my weapons were ready and spare magazines were within easy reach. My hand tool was set and my SIG was topped of with a fifteen round magazine. I pushed open the door and walked right into the middle of five zombies. From his location on the fence, Sheriff Harlan couldn’t have seen them.

  Decaying hands reached for me as the sounds of hungry moans filled my ears. I had no retreat as one moved in between me and the door of the container. I ducked as grasping hands reached for my neck and I swung my rifle in a wide circle, knocking three of them off their feet. I stood up and a zombie girl grabbed the strap of my backpack and pull me close for a bite. I didn’t give her the chance as I slammed my hand up under her chin, snapping her head back and causing her blackened teeth to clack loudly. I grabbed her throat with one hand while stepping back from the first three slowly getting back to their feet. I pinned her to the cargo container and dropped the rifle as the first one came close. I drew my SIG and blew a large hole in his face, dropping him in a heap. The girl I had pinned to the wall was snapping and twisting, trying to get a bite out of my wrist. I lined up the second one, a fat individual or at least he would have been if his guts hadn’t been ripped out. Shreds of grey skin hung over a gaping hole in his cheek, which landed in the dirt after I shot him in the eye. I figured there was a second before the next two got to me, I spun around and shot the female in the forehead, her eyes rolling up in surprise at the new skylight in her skull.

  The other two zombies were coming fast and I didn’t have much time. I pivoted and shot quickly, the shot entering the first zombie’s open mouth and exiting through the back of his neck severing his spine. The last Z barreled into me, knocking me back into the cargo container. I slipped on the girl I had shot and slid down just as his jaws snapped against the container. I found myself on the ground looking up at a zombie that looked down at me, his lips curling back from his mouth, revealing his broken, yellowed teeth. His head came down as my arm shot up, shoving the barr
el of my SIG in his mouth. His teeth chewed the metal millimeters from my trigger finger as I fired, blowing the back of his head off and sending bits of his diseased brain into orbit.

  I shoved the thin body off of me and stood up quickly, scanning the area for further threats. Not seeing any, I retrieved my rifle and hunkered down, breathing heavily and shaking my head. No matter what anyone says, no matter what all the movie hype tells you, close quarters combat takes a lot out of you.

  I checked the rifle and it seemed okay, no barrel obstructions or otherwise. Sudden movement caught my eye and I stood up, watching Charlie run over from his container. Some slower moving zombies from the main horde saw the movement as well and they swung around to start their inevitable march towards their prey.

  “Jesus, you okay?” Charlie asked, breathing heavily. His run had been precarious, the ground was liberally littered with newly made re-corpses.

  I nodded. “All’s well. Thought that last guy was going to be the end when I slipped, but thankfully he hesitated when I disappeared from view.”

  Charlie looked around at the bodies. “Nice work. I figured you for two or three to one, but five’s impressive.”

  I shook my head. “Remind me never to do that again. If Sarah had been watching I’d be in serious trouble.”

  Charlie just smiled, then turned as low moans carried to us. Thirty or so yards away there was about twenty slow movers headed our way and we needed to get to work. “I’ll take the right, you take the left,” Charlie said as he lifted his rifle.

  “Deal.” I raised my rifle and started with a small boy on the far left. He was wearing a striped shirt and ripped up jeans. His vacant stare reminded me of students I had once upon a time when we did state testing. I dropped him with a quick shot, then moved on to the next. In short order we had killed the oncoming zombies, the last one literally dropping at our feet.

  Our efforts had attracted the attention of several more ghouls and we decided we needed to get to a more defensible position. I could see more zombies coming up from the countryside, attracted to the sound of shooting, which I figured was akin to a dinner bell for roaming Z’s.

  “Let’s get gone before we find ourselves out of ammo, trying to figure out how to spend the rest of our short lives in a cargo container.” I said, moving to the east towards the railroad tracks. Charlie agreed, telling me spending the rest of his life in a cargo container with me was only attractive if I was a supermodel. I didn’t bother to reply.

  We ran to the tracks that paralleled the fence, since that part of the fence was not being as aggressively attacked as the north side. We ran about halfway down the length of the fence, stopping once to shoot two zombies that were coming in off the south end and getting to the ladder that had been placed there for us. I ushered Charlie up and I climbed after him, pulling the ladder up behind me. Zombies generally didn’t seem to have the mental clarity to figure out what to do with a ladder and certainly lacked the dexterity to manage climbing one, but I have heard of exceptions. No point in trying to figure out if one was out there right now.

  We got to the top and moved quickly towards the source of the firing as their seemed to be quite a bit and for some reason that made me nervous. As we turned the corner I could see two people firing directly down into the masses of zombies milling about. Every time they fired a body fell. All good. But the bodies were starting to pile up and they were not aware that the zombie’s grasping hands were getting higher and higher.

  “Step back!” I yelled. “They can reach you! Step back!” I ran faster, trying not to lose my balance on the uneven surface of the containers.

  I was too late. Even as I got within twenty yards, a shooter was dragged screaming down into the teeming mass. Clawed hands ripped away chunks of flesh and chipped teeth tore at clothing and skin. It looked like someone had dropped a piece of hamburger into a pool of piranhas. Blood sprayed as arterial walls were ruptured by ghoul s’ teeth. In a matter of seconds, the screaming stopped as whoever it was died. A pack of zombies stayed hunched over the body, tearing at the meat, stuffing it into their mouths. Blood smeared over hands and arms, dripping down chins and staining dirty clothing.

  The other person on the container screamed, “Noooo!” and before I could get to him, he jumped off the container into the pack of hunched over zombies, shooting randomly and kicking zombies away from the body. I ducked as a bullet screamed past my ear, nearly causing me to stumble. He didn’t seem to notice the zombie on his back, biting him in the neck. The man kicked away another zombie, then threw the one on his back off, knocking down a row of zombies. Other ghouls surged forward, and just before they swarmed the man, I could see the face of the shredded body on the ground.

  It was Casey. What she was doing out here instead of staying at the town hall where she was supposed to be I had no idea. I turned my attention to the man fighting on the ground. He swung his rifle like a club, but he had no chance. The zombies came in from all sides and bore him to his knees. He fought up one last time and it was then I could see who it was. Martin Oso. My heart sank as his eyes locked with mine, then he disappeared beneath the wave of undead. I brought my rifle up and was not disappointed when the mass of ghouls surged upward again and I could see that Martin had regained his feet. His face was covered in bites and he was bleeding freely from numerous wounds on his arms and neck. The Z’s snarled collectively then rushed him again, their hunger evident in the intensity with which they glared at him.

  Martin looked at me again, then nodded as I lined up his head in my sights. A split second before the dead started tearing at him again, my rifle cracked once, the bullet putting a neat hole in Martin’s head. He dropped to the ground, followed by the dead which tore at his fresh corpse. I lowered my rifle and just shook my head.

  Charlie dropped his head and shook it gently, his anger at the useless deaths evident in his slightly shaking hands.

  The ghouls noticed us after they finished with the bodies of our comrades and set up another chorus of death as they moaned and surged forward. There were a lot of them in this area, but I could see pockets of more of them down the line. I took the scope off my rifle and standing back from the grasping hands that reached over the edge of the container, I proceeded to cut down the zombies that reached for me. I worked my way from the back, shooting methodically. I don’t remember Charlie firing next to me, I just went on autopilot. Aim, fire, shift, aim, fire, shift, aim, fire, shift, aim fire. I started at the back of the mob and slowly worked my way forward. I saw Charlie doing the same and he was as disciplined as I was. Inside, I was furious. Martin knew better than to shoot the way he was and not only did he get himself killed, he got another team member killed as well. If he wasn’t dead, I would have kicked his ass.

  I emptied my magazine, replaced it with another one and then went to work again. At the end of my second clip, I had corpses laid out like a macabre carpet. On Charlie’s side, the same carpet was laid off to the right. In front of us, were still the grasping hands and I put a loaded clip into the rifle, noting absently the heat coming off the barrel. I stepped carefully forward and peered over at the dead. When they saw me, they again moaned and reached for me, but I had nothing for them except release from their prison.

  I fired quickly, killing six of them in short order and Charlie finished off the rest. I looked over at him and nodded, words being useless at this point. We gathered our empty magazines and began walking down the fence line, heading towards the masses of zombies in the distance. Out on the open land I could see distant shapes slowly moving towards our position, but paid them no mind. We’d kill them when they got here, no sooner.

  As we reached the main point of the zombies’ attack, I could see Sheriff Harlan walking up and down his line of shooters, encouraging them, and telling them to aim for the back of the horde, just like we had discussed the night before. It was hard to ignore the grasping hands that reached up, but they couldn’t risk the zombies climbing up. As it was, they might have done
it anyway, just from crushing each other in the press to get the succulent pink flesh just out of reach. The container we were standing on rocked gently from the onslaught, but it stayed in place, being bolted to the container next to it. On the initial tour of the defenses Harlan had said most of the containers had been secured, but not all. The ones by the lake were not, the logic being that the zombies appeared to avoid immersion in water, therefore if they made it through, they wouldn’t go far.

  I walked along the fence, followed by Charlie, and we saw other groups of men shooting down the ghouls and adding to the grey, lifeless mass out on the plain. A lot of ammo was wasted, but the men seemed to have enough. If we ran out, we’d have to do the job the old fashioned way, but that could be done. The focus now was to eliminate the threat of being overwhelmed.

  As we turned the corner past the lake, I began to hear screams from inside the perimeter. I hadn’t noticed it before, with all the firing going on, but now it seemed like there was something seriously wrong. I jogged along the cargo containers and saw what had happened. A bolt had not been tightened properly, allowing the crowd of zombies to filter in. The gap was only wide enough to allow one zombie in at a time, but it had been open long enough to allow a significant number of zombies inside the town. They had spread out as they wandered in and by the screams, had found new victims.

  “Shit! They’re in! Sheriff Harlan!” I yelled into the radio, attracting the attention of several ghouls on the ground.

  “What you need, son?” came the laconic reply.

  “There’s been a breach! They’re in! They’re in! Fall back and get your men into the town!” I shouted as Charlie and I raced down a nearby ramp. I shot the nearest zombie and Charlie shot another one as we raced over the open ground towards Route 113. The zombies had followed the road into the town, attracted by the firing they were hearing on the north side and were headed straight for the heaviest population center. I estimated at least five hundred zombies had made it in, and the number was increasing.