by TW Gallier
"Zombies feasted here," Mike said.
It was so bad my eyes watered. I took shallow breaths through my mouth and continued following Terrel. He led us down into the basement. The arms room was still locked up. There was no sign anyone had tried to break into it. All of the weapons were in steel racks inside a steel mesh cage.
"How do we get in there?"
"I bet the keys are in the First Sergeants' office," I said. "On a hook or in his desk."
"You mean the First Shirt?" Terrel asked. "His office would be at Squadron headquarters."
"Roger means the senior NCO in this building. An E-8," Sean said. "His office."
"Wait here," Terrel said, and took off.
"Go with him, Mike," I said.
While they were off looking for the keys, the rest of us tried to pry open the arms room door. It was holding, but I swear we were so close. If we had a crowbar or something long and steel, we'd get that damned door open. But then we'd have to deal with the padlocks on the gun racks. Keys would be best.
"Hey look, I see a crowbar inside the cage," Charlie said. "How inconvenient."
It was atop a stack of wooden crates. I realized a second later those were ammo crates.
"We just hit the post-apoc lottery, if we can get inside," I said.
"We can," Terrel shouted as he came running down the stairs.
He had a large key-ring in hand.
"Where's Mike?"
"He stayed upstairs after we spotted some zombies roaming around out front."
I looked at Sean, who looked grim but determined. Charlie looked as antsy as I felt. Terrel seemed to be the calmest of the lot. He flipped through the keys quickly, tried one here and there. Finally, one slipped in and turned. The door swung open.
I went straight to the ammo crates and pried one open. Sean found some ammo boxes with ammo already loaded on stripper clips and ready to load into magazines.
"Find some magazines, Charlie, and bring them over," I said.
I started reloading my empty magazines. Charlie found a box full of empty 30-round magazines. Then we reloaded all of our magazines, and then loaded up magazines until we ran out of the clips. We made sure each of us, including Mike upstairs, had a full load of seven magazines, and the rest were put in a box. It was always good to have as many magazines loaded up as possible.
"They have M60 machine guns," Sean said. "And .50 cal machine guns. Do we want to take them?"
My first thought was "duh." But both weapons were considerably heavier and harder to handle than a SAW. Yet, an M60 fired 7.62mm which hit hard and had more penetration power. The M60s and .50 cals would be much better against mounted, well-armed survivors who challenged our passage.
"Bring them," I said. "They'll be lowest priority, but if we have room they will prove their worth before we're through."
We found crates of 40mm grenades, hand grenades, and a rack of M-4s with M203 grenade launchers, too. Charlie was most excited to get his hands on another M-249 SAW.
"Minimi, you'll always be a best friend to me," he sang.
Mike was a bad influence on him. Or maybe we were all going crazy.
"Terrel, you and Sean stay here and open up the racks," I said. "You can get Mike to help you start hauling ammo and weapons up to the ground floor. I'll take Charlie and we'll go find something that runs."
"There's a motor pool down the road," Terrel said. He paused to consider. "Go north."
"Perfect," I said. "Sorry, Charlie, you're with me."
We rushed upstairs to find Mike crouched behind the front door. He waved us down and around the corner. We ducked behind the wall, and a second later a zombie started pounding on the door. It lasted a few minutes, and he gave up.
"Clear?" I asked.
He peeked out the small window in the door. "No. I can see three of the ugly bastards out there."
"We're heading up to the motor pool," I said as I moved up to the door and looked around through the window. I didn't see any zombies. "Lock the door behind us."
Opening the door as quietly as possible, Charlie followed me out at a dead run. I spotted zombies in every direction. Every single one of them turned toward us as one. We started shooting.
Chapter 18
We moved quickly. Reminded me of more than one battle I'd fought in since the shit hit the fan. Zombies were charging in with no thought of personal protection. We popped one round after another into them, and still they came. It seemed like there was an endless supply of them. I started to worry seven magazines each wasn't enough.
"We have to get the gate closed before they reach us," I said.
The motor pool was fenced. The gate was open. It didn't look like the most secure motor I'd ever seen. The double gates were locked with a chain and padlock, which was left hanging off one side. But it was National Guard, so I didn't really expect much.
Better yet, it was full of large cargo trucks. I didn't see any 5-tons, but there was a row of deuce and a halfs, all painted olive drab like they'd just been delivered from the factory. None of them had canvas covers on the back, or even a roof over the cab. They were completely stripped down to basics.
Charlie went left; I turned right as we entered the motor pool. Each of us grabbed a gate and swung them to the middle. I wrapped the chain tightly around them, and then snapped the padlock on before our pursuit slammed into it at a full run. Charlie stood behind me firing. It took me a moment to realize he was firing into the motor pool.
"Crap," I grumbled, dropping to a knee and opening up on the zombies locked inside with us. There weren't very many, and they all died really fast. "That was fun."
"Yeah, right," he said. "I'm doing a lot more running than I ever did in the Army."
We split up again, each going to a different deuce and a half. Thankfully they don't require keys. The starting procedure was displayed on a metal plaque fastened to the dashboard. Which was good, since I'd only started and driven one of them once before.
My truck started. Charlie started his a moment later.
"We'll take them both just in case we have that much to carry," I called over to him. "Pull up to the gate side-by-side. We'll kill the zombies and then head out."
We drove up to the gate and stopped. Getting out with the trucks idling, I walked forward and fired into the heads of the zombies crowded there. Charlie joined me, and by the time we reached the gate they were all dead. I could see more coming our way, but we'd deal with them later. That's when I realized I had no way to unlock the padlock.
"Nothing pisses me off more than when I do something stupid," I said. "Come on, we have to crash through. I'll lead."
I led the way, giving it the gas and rolling over that flimsy chain link gate. Well flimsy when hit by a deuce and a half. I turned toward four zombies, and plowed them under with the truck. Charlie veered the other way and took out another eight, two and three at a time.
"Jesus, nothing stops these sons of bitches," I said.
It was a short trip to the barracks. At least I assumed they were barracks. I never went upstairs to see and didn't intend to, either. We backed up to the front door.
"Charlie, put that SAW to good use and keep the zombies at bay while we load up."
Mike opened both doors. There were already crates of ammo stacked in the hallway. We started moving them to the trucks, while Sean and Terrel continued hauling stuff up from the arms room.
"Do you hear helicopters?" Charlie asked.
I paused and listened. He was right. Multiple helicopters off in the distance. They were either too far away or too low to spot. I wondered if the military was still operating somewhere on the base. And I realized I didn't want to have anything to do with them. My last experience in Washington D.C. proved inconvenient.
After the ammo was divided between the trucks, we started loading weapons. Sean brought up four .50 cals and four M60s. I would've brought them all, but he was probably right. It was unlikely we'd use even one .50 cal, much less four. Still, it wa
s good to have them just in case.
"Sean! We have to get out of here before the Army shows up!"
"What?" he asked, stepping outside. He listened for a second. "Sounds like Blackhawks."
"I know. Believe me, we don't want to cross paths with them," I said.
"Fucking A," Mike said. "Bastards shanghaied me last time."
Sean and Terrel looked uncertain, but Charlie, Mike, and I were adamant. No contact with any US military forces.
We finished loading the trucks, while Charlie happily popped off a few shots here, and a few more there. He did a pretty good job of keeping the zombies away. As we finished, he was doing a lot more shooting.
"All my shooting is attracting them," Charlie said. "They might be a little thicker on the way out."
"Here you go," Sean said, tossing something to me.
"Awesome," I said. "A one-point harness."
We were tying our straps around our M-4 to kind of simulate a one-point harness, so I quickly removed it and put on the one-point. My M-4 already had the attachment to connect.
"Best thing since the P-38," Charlie said.
"We found a box of those, too, as well as MREs," Sean said.
Half of the space in the back of the trucks was taken up by boxes of MREs. At least we'd have food to eat. And a lot of ammo, but with more people shooting it.
"Let's get back to the boat and decide if we want to continue on the water or on the road," Sean said. "I'm leaning toward the road now that we have one bus and a pair of deuce and a halfs."
"I'm leaning in the same direction," I said, jumping behind the wheel.
Mike joined me. Charlie continued to drive the other truck, with Sean riding shotgun. Terrel climbed in back behind Sean with a SAW. I was confident our trip back was going to be faster and easier than the trip to Arnold AFB.
Chapter 19
The deuce and a half behind us started honking its horn, flashing its lights. So I stopped on Tennessee State Route 58 just short of the turn-off into the Island Cove Marina and Resort. Sean's truck pulled up alongside us on the left. Since Sean was riding shotgun, we were just a few feet apart.
"Roger," Sean said. "I think we should go up and get the bus before we get everyone else."
"So you want to stay on the road?" I asked.
I couldn't really argue the point. The trip back was considerably easier thanks to the two military trucks. The deuce and a halfs could plow through the zombies and open an easier path for the bus full of women and children. Also, I didn't look forward to transferring all of the arms and ammo to the houseboat.
"Absolutely. We'd have to find transportation once we reached Knoxville anyway," he said. "I know a place in Knoxville we could get deuce and a halfs, or even 5-tons, but now we don't need to go there. We can bypass that city all together."
"I agree," I said. "Staying on the road will be more dangerous, but also faster."
Sean's vehicle took the lead. I followed as we passed by the Island Cove Marina to our left, heading north on 58. The view opened up onto the lake once past the marina. It only took three quick glances to spot the houseboat. A lot of tension eased up on me then.
"Holy fucking shit," Mike said as soon as we passed over the bridge and rounded the bend. There was a mega horde coming down the highway. The far end of Shore Drive was already overrun by them, but we could enter on the southern end. Sean hesitated, slowing down in front of us, but then sped up and turned down Shore. We followed, moving fast. I wasn't sure we could get the bus before the horde reached it.
It was all a mute point.
"The bus is gone," Mike cried. "Some mother stole our bus."
Sean turned into a driveway, obviously planning to turn around. So I did the same thing, and was able to take the lead again. We hauled ass out of there pronto. Without the bus, the trucks were worthless to us. Everyone would definitely fit in back of the two trucks, but I had my doubts we could plow through a horde that thickly packed.
I turned off 58 and onto Flamingo, which took us the short distance to the marina and resort. There was a large Mexican restaurant, and lots of service facilities for boats. Indeed, after passing through the restaurant parking lot, it turned into boat storage all the way to the marina. We drove out on the man-made jetty, which was wide enough for parallel parking slots. The turn-around circle wasn't very big, so we'd have to do three-point turns in the trucks to get out.
I started flashing my lights at the houseboat. After a few minutes I saw smoke out the back as it started up. Sean, Charlie, and Terrel joined us.
"We have to take the boat," Sean said, looking sick. "The deuce and a halfs are great, but the risk of failure too great."
"I agree. Hopefully that horde doesn't stretch all the way back to Kingston," I said.
"Knoxville," Sean said. "I need to check the map again, but I think we can take the Tennessee River up to within a mile of the National Guard garrison in Knoxville."
I didn't think we could take the houseboat all the way to Kingston, much less Knoxville, but held my tongue. I didn't know what the Tennessee River dams looked like. Maybe they had locks like the Mississippi. If not, we'd either have to find enough vehicles for everyone, or find more boats to continue up the river.
The house boat was coming. We watched them approach, and then maneuver up close to the jetty. Jenny was standing on the front deck, so I only had eyes for her. And then I noticed it wasn't shadows, but she actually had a black eye.
"Uh oh," Charlie said. "I see bullet holes all over that boat."
I noticed it then. Shattered windows. Bullet holes on other windows and in the side of the boat. Then I spotted a dead body covered by a sheet on the back deck.
"What happened?" Sean demanded.
"Men in boats attacked us," Jenny said. "We have seven dead and another dozen wounded."
"Seven dead?" I cried.
"Including two children," she said.
Cold flushed through me. I knew it was possible, but never really believed they'd be attacked by other survivors.
"Travis attacked Jenny, so we abandoned him on an island to wait for your return," Brett said. "I vote we leave him there."
"Son of a bitch!" I cried, rage filling every corner of my being. "What island? I swear, I'm going to kill him."
"Patten Island," Brett said. "The big one."
I didn't care how big the island was, because I was going to hunt him down. But Jenny shook her head, and Sean patted my shoulder.
"No," Jenny said. "You won't. As I told the others, we have to be better than that."
"She's right," Sean said. "He's expelled from the group. Travis is on his own, and honestly that is a death sentence."
Not what I wanted to hear, but the boat was secured and we had a lot to do before the horde reached us. I put my fury into unloading the trucks. Everyone agreed staying on the lake was best after we told them about losing both buses and the mega horde coming down the highway. We could see the leading edge of the horde before we finished uploading the houseboat. We left the deuce and a halfs on the jetty, then took the time to find a canoe and as many gas cans as we could find.
Greg continued to drive the boat. He headed toward John A. Patten Island, due north of the marina. There was a natural bay on the southside where they left Travis. He was sitting on the shore as we approached. Travis stood up, looking nervous, looking like he was about to bolt.
"What are you going to do?" I asked Sean as he tied the canoe to the back of a johnboat.
"I'm going to give him the canoe so he can leave the island," Sean said. "He's a coward, a troublemaker, and a traitor, but I'm not prepared to leave him to starve to death on that island."
I spotted ten MREs and two gallon jugs of water in the canoe. I also noticed a machete and revolver in Sean's hands, over and above what he usually carried. Leaving him on the island was fine by me. I was even fine with giving him some food and water. Giving him weapons seemed unnecessary.
"Why are you arming him?"
"Everyone deserves the chance to defend themselves," he said.
I pulled the revolver from his hand, pushed the cylinder out, and pulled out four of the five rounds, and then snapped it closed.
"The machete is enough," I said. I tossed the revolver into the boat. "This will give him one round to end it before the zombies overtake him."
"That's cold, man," he said.
"He attacked my wife. She has a black eye."
He didn't have an argument for that. But deep down I knew I was wrong. What Travis did was not a capital crime, and killing him was wrong. But still…
I handed Sean the rounds I removed and stepped back. Brett was already in the johnboat to man the motor. He started it, and Sean climbed down into it. They shoved off and headed for the small bay. I went up and joined Jenny on the roof deck to watch.
Sean and Brett stopped in the middle of the bay. They were too far away for us to hear, but I could see them shouting back and forth. Travis was soon pleading with him. Even I felt a tiny pang of guilt, but then I looked at Jenny's black eye and it went away. After about five minutes, Sean untied the canoe and shoved it toward shore.
Travis was shaking his fist as Brett started the motor and headed back to the houseboat. I watched Travis wade out to get the canoe, check the pistol, and then drag it up on shore. He didn't get in the canoe and leave the island, or head toward us to plead his case. I guessed Sean warned him away from us. Maybe he even threatened Travis by saying I'd shoot him if he got too close. I already knew Sean intended to warn him about the mega horde on shore, and suggest he wait their passage out on the island.
Then we went to another island and took the dead over to be buried. It took until sunset to dig six graves. Rosa and her little girl were buried together, per her husband's wishes. We spoke about them, sharing fond memories. Then Sean led us in prayer, before we filed back onto the houseboat and departed.