by TW Gallier
We were still moving up through the trees toward the country club. I could hear the boats off in the middle distance. They were probably already at Cherokee Farms.
"We're going to check the parking lot first. If it's clear of zombies, then we'll try to hotwire a car," I said. "If you're up to the task, Mike."
"Always," he whispered.
The zombies were joined by five more, and all of them turned toward the trees. And headed straight at us. I didn't think they knew we were in there, but intended to check the area out. Didn't matter. We had to kill them.
"Machetes and spears," I said. "We want to keep it quiet."
We eased into a line and waited for them behind trees. I pulled my machete and thrust it into the soft earth next to me, as did the others. We might be outnumbered two to one, but I had complete confidence we would prevail. Those bastards were dead zombies walking.
When the first three reached us, we surged up and at them as one. I skewered one right through the heart. Yanking my spear out, I thrust into the neck of the next one. Then I grabbed my machete and charged the zombie Charlie had on the end of his spear, but was refusing to die.
"Go to… HELL," I cried as I chopped of his head. "Next time, Charlie, don't stab them in the belly."
"I know," he said, looking embarrassed.
Brett and Mike had killed the rest of them by that time. We quickly cleaned our spears and machetes on the nasty, tattered clothes of the dead zombies. Then I led the way out of the woods and around the east end of the country club. There had to be fifty zombies in the parking lot, and more across the street roaming around the golf course.
"Shit," Charlie said. "No nice Benz or Beemer for us."
The zombies came at us without hesitation. We let them have it with full auto for a moment, and then began a tactical withdrawal up the road to the northeast up Lyons View. There were quite a few chasing us by the time we reached the tree-lined streets of a residential area.
To lose our pursuit, I turned between houses, jumped fences, and moved a couple of streets over to a larger thoroughfare. The zombies seemed stymied by the fencing, but we found more of them on that street. We ran a short distance to a four-lane road that I assumed was Kingston Pike. There was a shopping center across the road, and we ran toward it. If I was correct in our location, then there would be a sports complex beyond it. The National Guard Armory was on the other side of that complex.
"Follow me," I called, heading for the back of that shopping center. There were a lot of abandoned cars in the parking lot. I really would've liked to check them out to see if any ran, but more zombies were converging on us from all sides. "What's the deal? How did they know we were coming?"
"It's freaky," Charlie said. "Roger thinks they are all connected telepathically or something."
"He might be right," I said. And then I saw it. Our salvation, or at least a short reprieve. "Make for the fence. That'll slow them down."
There was a line of old, green trash dumpsters along the back of the parking lot, behind the buildings. Beyond that was a line of trees, but I knew from the map there should be railroad tracks, too. Mike and I dropped to a knee and provided cover while Charlie and Brett climbed over the fence. I emptied two magazines on the damned zombies running at us. Then they covered us while we climbed over.
"Well, that was more fun than the street gang battle we fought in St. Louis," Mike said once we stood upon the railroad tracks.
"Oh man, that battle was epic," Charlie said. "This wasn't anything close."
"I said fun," Mike snapped. "I didn't say it was epic."
"Did you two argue like this all the way across the country?" I asked.
"Pretty much," Mike said. "It's a big part of our charm."
I just shook my head and turned toward the open fields of the sports center. On the other side of a pair of side-by-side soccer fields was the armory. I pointed it out.
"There it is, boys," I said. "Let's go snag some transportation."
The fields were clear of zombies. We went straight across as the crow flies. There wasn't even a fence around the place. At least not in back. First thing I saw were two lines of Humvees.
"Jackpot," Mike said.
That armory had a lot of natural disaster relief trailers and such, plus some large cargo trucks. We ensured the grounds, motor pools, and maintenance areas were clear, before doing the same with the buildings. There were some vehicles lined up in convoy formation behind the main building, with lots of remains left behind of the soldiers who died defending it. I assumed zombies killed them, since they appeared to have been eaten. Bones were scattered around, broken apart, all around each corpse. And the "corpses" were mostly tattered uniforms soaked in blood.
We checked the vehicles in the convoy first. Not a single one would start. So we moved to the motor pool and tried to start some Humvees. One started, so while Brett and Charlie looked for more diesel to siphon to top it off, I took Mike over to the other cargo trucks. And not a single one of them would start, either.
"Well this has proven a total bust," I grumbled.
"Not necessarily," Mike said, and pointed.
There was a large school next to us. Behind it was a baseball diamond. There were a lot of cars and trucks parked beside it, like there was Little League game being played when the shit hit the fan. One of those vehicles was a former school bus, painted white with Missionary Baptist Church on the side.
"Let me see if I can start it," Mike said.
I stood guard while Mike climbed in and started fiddling with shit under the dash, around the steering wheel. The engine turned over after five tries, and just before he wore down the battery. A deep sense of relief filled me. That bus was big enough to hold everyone.
"Let's go join the others," I said, standing in the open door.
I found Charlie and Brett with a running 5-ton, in the process of mounting what looked like a plow to the front of it. Apparently they decided to try and start one of the trucks in maintenance, and it started.
"What's up with the plow?" I asked.
"Snow plow," Charlie said, as if that explained everything.
"It's the middle of summer," I said, maybe a little testily.
He grinned at me. "This is now a zombie plow."
I looked at him, then at the snow plow mounted to the front of the 5-ton. And I smiled, nodding my head.
"I like the way you think, my friend."
Chapter 25
We beached the boats at a boat launch ramp not fifty feet from the motor pool fence. A pair of bolt cutters was brought out and a large hole was made in the fence. I left Jenny and Kate in charge of the boats, women, and children. They took a few boats to wait in the middle of the river while we cleared the grounds and buildings.
The sign out front said it was a Navy recruiting station as well as a Marine Reserve Center. Out by the road was an obstacle course, for the Marines. Navy? Naa. I noticed another unfenced motor pool with larger vehicles over close to the golf course.
"Is Cherokee Farm a golf course?" I asked.
"Looks like," Larry said.
The grounds were clear. No zombies around that I could see. So we went inside to clear the main building. It was locked up tight, so we had to force our way inside. It was hot and stuffy inside without AC or open windows. No one was inside, and no bodies, either. There was an unfortunate smell, and that came from the break room. Someone left the fridge open.
There was a Marine arms room, with more ammo. We didn't really need weapons, but we could never have enough ammo.
"Let's check out the motor pool," I said, and led them back outside through a back door.
There were a little more than two dozen vehicles total, including a pair of front end loaders. They had an ambulance on a Humvee frame, but it wouldn't start and all of the medical supplies were missing. We spread out to try and start the vehicles. It took the better part of an hour, but all we managed to start was a single 5-ton.
I was disgusted. A
ll of those military vehicles were taken out by an EMP? I could understand civilian vehicles getting zapped easily, but I had higher expectations from military equipment.
On the positive side, the 5-ton was an M928. It had an extended bed, a good twenty feet long, as opposed to the more common fourteen foot version. It was also covered with an olive drab canvas, so the passengers and cargo in back would be protected during inclement weather. There were a few trailers, too, but I wasn't sure if we needed the extra capacity.
I drove the 5-ton around to the boat ramp and waved the women and children in. We quickly unloaded the boats and placed everything in the back. It fit with room to spare. So while I drove back around to the motor pool, everyone else filed into the building. It was getting late and that was as secure a place as I'd seen to spend the night.
We found a room, knocked out a few windows to create a cross-breeze, and the women started setting up camp stoves and places to sleep. Most of the kids were put down for naps during that time, Jenny and Sara tended to the children, with Jenny mostly staying with Spooky and helping her deal.
After posting a guard, I took Brian and headed up to the rendezvous with Sean and his team. We mostly waited under the bridge, but would come out every so often to check the road. It was almost dark before I spotted three vehicles coming down Neyland Drive. A Humvee led the way, with a white church bus and a 5-ton following. They pulled into the parking lot next to the river. We motored out to the middle of the river, and I checked them out with binoculars.
"It's them," I said. "We'll leave the boat here."
Brian took us in quickly, beaching the johnboat on shore. We quickly disembarked, and the boat immediately was dragged away by the current. I paused, but we didn't need it any longer. Maybe another survivor would find it and escape certain death on the water.
"About time," I said. "What took so long? Did you take in a movie and have dinner?"
"No, we just looted the armory of ammo," Sean said. "And it took a while to get the snow plow on and working properly."
I looked at the three vehicles. The bus looked old, but it was running. That would make the trip a hundred times easier than riding in the back of 5-tons. The Humvee and 5-ton looked relatively new, as military vehicles go.
"We found a 5-ton, too," I said. "Does the bus run on gas or diesel?"
"Gas," Mike said. He was driving. "So it'll be easier to keep topped off."
Exactly. Now we needed to find or create some siphoning kits to keep us topped off during the long drive northward. The fact they found more ammo was helpful, too. Knoxville was proving to be a treasure trove for us.
"Oh yes, we have radios, too," Sean said. "We'll be able to communicate between vehicles after we get one installed in your truck." He gave me a curious look. "Where did you find a 5-ton? I assume you mean a military cargo truck, not something civilian."
I frowned, "Well, kinda sorta a military vehicle. We got it from the Marines across the river."
"Marines?"
"Did you know there is a Marine Reserve Center over there?"
He looked incredulous. I wagged my brows at him. "So you raided an Army armory, and I raided the Marines. Sounds about right."
He just shook his head woefully.
I jumped in the Humvee with Sean, while Brian joined Mike in the bus. I guided Sean across the bridge, and down to the Marine Reserve Center. We got all of the vehicles lined up in the motor pool in convoy formation, ready to move at a moment's notice. Then we divided up all of the ammo between the vehicles, mostly in the two 5-tons. We made sure each vehicle had plenty of ammo, some MREs, and water for the first day. Everything else would be loaded into the 5-tons prior to leaving at first light.
Mike and Charlie installed a mount, antenna, and radio in the Marine Reserve 5-ton while the rest of us were busy with the cargo. We tested the radios, and then decided who was going to drive what, and who would act as vehicle commander and gunner. The Humvee actually had a .50 cal mount on top. We put M60 machine guns in the bus to help save on SAW ammo. Also, each of the 5-ton gunners got M60s.
"Dinner's ready," Sonya called from the back door. "Come and get it before it's all gone."
"I'm starving," Sean said. "After dinner, we'll work out a guard rotation. And then hit the road hard before sunrise."
Chapter 26
I had all of the drivers check their oil, water, and fuel levels in the pre-dawn hours. We started up the three diesels, letting them get warmed up, but not too early. Didn't want to waste hard to find fuel. Mike found and cleaned out a five-gallon plastic bucket, with a lid, and used a toilet seat from the latrine to create a travel toilet for the bus. It could be sealed with the lid between uses. I thought it clever, but the women were extremely pleased.
While Sean made sure the women and children were loaded into the bus, and the gunners were spread out down its length inside, I got the gunners for the two 5-tons set up. The previous night, after dinner, we'd mounted M60s we'd gotten from the Air Force base, National Guard Armory, and the Marine Reserve Center behind and above the cabs of both 5-tons. Two M60 machine guns on each truck, to be precise. Plus, the M928 had a .50 cal and M60 mounted out the back to fire up anyone foolish enough to chase us. Since none of the gunners were ex-military, I went over operation of their weapons again, ensured they had plenty of ammo at hand, and finally had them replace the barrels of the M60s and .50 cal to ensure they could. Dan had the headspace and timing of the .50 cal down pat. I was really proud of him. In fact, he was assigned that weapon because he figured it out the fastest of all of them.
As the sky in the east brightened, despite heavy cloud cover threatening rain, we pulled out. In the cab we had Charlie's personal rifle, plus a SAW, M203, and my M-4. The passenger side floorboard was filled with ammo cans. Vince and fifteen year old Jake Franklin manned the two M60s above and behind the cab. It was just Terrel and Sean in the Humvee coming next in line. The bus was third, with Greg driving, and all of the other adults and teens manning weapons. Brett was driving the last 5-ton, with Mike riding shotgun with an M60. Brian and Kate manned the M60s behind the cab, with Dan and Oscar as the rear gunners.
"I think we have a convoy," Charlie said.
"I swear, I'll shoot you if you call me Rubber Duck."
"You're no fun."
Jake snickered. Since our 5-ton didn't have a cover for the cab or the cargo box, we could all see and speak to each other, unlike the other 5-ton. Of course, that also meant if it rained we were all going to get soaked.
After a final radio check, Charlie put her in gear and we moved out. We kept the call signs simple and used our first names. Vehicle commanders operated the radios, being myself, Sean, Jenny, and Mike.
"I think we have ourselves a convoy, over," Jenny said over the radio.
Charlie barked a laugh. "She's a lot more fun than you."
"Out," I said over the radio. Then to him, "Shut up and drive."
We headed up between Cherokee Farms and the University of Tennessee Medical Center, and then turned left onto US 129. There were a few zombies on the highway, but they were easily avoided. I heard a few shots sound behind me, but Sean was on the radio before I could even get my hand on the handset.
"Cease fire!" Sean commanded. "Only shoot if you have to. We're not in danger right now. Out."
All of our radios had speakers, but I doubted the gunners back of the 5-tons could hear it. Our M60 gunners hadn't fired, so I didn't bother saying anything to them. I suspected it was someone in the bus, since it sounded like M-4 fire.
We drove up the highway at 45 MPH. I told Charlie to slow down when he started to pick up speed.
"Why? We can be in Cincinnati by sundown, and in Canada tomorrow if we pick up the speed," he said.
"I don't want to disable the truck by hitting zombies too hard."
"Shit, I had a First Sergeant who chased down and smashed into a cow to give us fresh meat for dinner while deployed at Fort Hunter Liggett," he said. "It was delicious, and did
n't damage his deuce and a half at all."
"He got away with it?"
"No. The farmer complained about missing a cow, and he got an Article 15 and lost his job," Charlie said. "Still, if you see a cow."
"Hell yeah," I said, grinning. "But keep it below 45 anyway."
It felt excruciatingly slow in that big truck, despite the heavy-duty suspension. Hitting a zombie too fast, even with a snow plow, was dangerous. Also, a charging zombie might miss our truck and get between us and the Humvee or bus. They definitely couldn't take a solid hit like that.
I saw more zombies down in the city streets than on the highway, and even then not that many. I was a little surprised by the lack of zombies. That lasted until we reached I-40 and turned right toward downtown. The number of zombies on the road doubled, so I didn't have the luxury of time to look for them off the highway. That's when Charlie couldn't avoid them anymore, and slowed down to 30 MPH to plow through them.
"I wish we'd had this truck the whole time," I said. The plow was slanted as much as possible to mute the impact, and it worked like a charm. Some of them did go under the plow, especially when we hit a bump. Running over zombies were big bumps that raised the plow enough to let even more zombies be knocked down and left in our path.
Charlie came to a halt, eased forward as he pushed the zombies before us. Once we were over that pile of zombies, he slowly picked up speed. Unfortunately, that tactic created another problem. The pile of zombies caught by the plow got bigger and bigger, churning bodies around, ripping them to shreds, and generally causing a disgusting, sickening mess.
"Stop," I commanded. "Back up a bit." That gave us some room. "Go around them to the left."
I rolled down my window, thrust the SAW out, and shouted to my gunners, "Kill them!"
Three machine guns blasted zombies to shreds. The M60s larger caliber really tore them up. Hell, a M60 could tear up a car. Charlie drove past that pile of mindless humanity in no time, so we didn't expend that much ammo.