by TW Gallier
"Keep to the left," I said.
He moved as close to the left side as possible. Most of the zombies were toward the center of the road. We were actually able to pick up speed to 40 MPH, and then the road cleared considerably as we came up upon the cloverleaf west of downtown. We took the I-275 exit north. That highway was pretty clear all the way to the next cloverleaf with I-640. Our highway turned into I-75 shortly thereafter.
"What the hell, man," Charlie said. "Helicopters at twelve o'clock."
Using the binoculars, I leaned forward and studied them a moment.
"Six Blackhawks and two Hueys," I said. "But are they still under US military command, or have they gone rogue?"
"Surely they wouldn't…" Charlie said. "I mean…"
I was on the radio. "Sean, I don't know if the choppers are friendly or hostile. When we went over the fence three weeks ago, official policy was everyone on this side of the Rockies were considered infected and there was a kill on sight order. Over."
We were in quite a vulnerable position. The helicopters could sit out of our weapons' ranges and eat us alive. The Blackhawks were armored, but not invulnerable to light weapon fire. The M60s and .50 cal would be threats to them, but what were the chances we'd hit even one of them?
They were flying in a single file formation and would pass to the east of us if they stayed on course. I had no doubt they'd spotted us before we saw them. We'd know real quickly if we were in trouble.
"Everyone keep moving. Do not stop," Sean said. "Do not fire at them if they don't fire at us. Out."
The last helicopter in line broke formation and turned toward us. It was a Huey. I watched it through binoculars, and quickly made out a door gunner hanging out the side. My blood ran cold and an itch started between my shoulder blades. The closer he came to us, the harder it was to breathe.
"Steady," I said over the radio. "If he starts shooting, everyone take evasive actions. Out."
The Blackhawk flew within two hundred feet, looked us over, and continued on. I waved at them, but neither of the pilots nor the door gunner waved back. Not a good sign, but at least they didn't kill us. I leaned out the window to ensure the helicopter rejoined the formation and none of them turned around.
"They know we’re here and on I-75," I said. "I have a bad feeling that isn't good."
Chapter 27
The number of zombies on the highway lightened considerably shortly after passing out of the Knoxville city limits. We were able to drive around most of them, and even hit speeds up to 55 MPH for short stretches. So all went well until we passed through Rocky Top, and then we were forced to stop.
"That can't be good," Charlie said.
The road went through a saddle between two hills. There was a major pile up of cars, trucks, and semi-tractor rigs that blocked both directions and the median. There was one small gap on the northbound side that the 5-tons could scrape through, but we could widen it a little with the plow. Problem was the other men. They drove a pickup across the gap, and then a good two dozen rifles, shotguns, and pistols were pointed at us. There could be more armed men in the trees to either side of the road, too.
"What do you think they want?" I asked.
"If I was one of them," Charlie said, pausing to think a second. "Booze. Arms and ammo. Women. Not necessarily in that order."
I gave him a sharp look. I hadn't thought of women. He could be right, and that thought made my skin crawl. My teeth clenched as I thought of my beautiful wife in the bus.
"No fucking way," I growled. Picking up the radio, "Sean, we have a problem, out."
"I see," he responded. "Hold a sec while I talk to them."
"You think they'll listen to reason?" Charlie asked.
"Depends on how desperate they are," I said. Then on the radio, "Mike, be prepared to do a quick three point turn and back up to deploy the .50 cal against these jerkwads. Over."
"Ten four, back door out."
Charlie grinned. I just shook my head. No military discipline left in those boys at all.
Our 5-ton was still in the left lane, so the Humvee pulled up next to us on the right. Sean was standing up and behind the .50 cal. He waved a hand overhead to get their attention.
"Hey, we're just a few families passing through. We have nothing you want or need," he shouted. "Let us pass through."
"Is that right?" a middle-aged man in hunter's camouflage shouted back. "We'll have to check your trucks out first. There's a toll tax to be paid before you can pass us."
"What do you want? Weapons and ammo?" Sean asked.
I froze. Surely he wouldn't give them any of ours. We had spare weapons, but I didn't want to part with a single rifle or round. Period. And if we dropped our guard to allow them to 'inspect our trucks' then they could slaughter all of the men and take the women and children. He had to know that.
"That'll be a good start," the other group's leader said. "Maybe a couple women. I'm sure you can spare a few."
"Okay," Sean said. Then on the radio, "Mike, turn around and back up to the other side of Roger. We're going to give them some ammo, as in hot fucking lead."
The engine revved in the bigger 5-ton in back. I looked in the side mirror, and saw Brett doing a very quick three point turn, and then they came up on the other side of my truck.
"Vince, you and Jake get ready to open up on those bastards!" I called over the wind.
"Locked and loaded, and ready to rock and roll," Jake replied.
I grinned. That teenager sounded eager. Charlie picked up the rifle with the grenade launcher. We had a dozen 40mm Frag grenades for it, and another five Heat grenades.
"Did someone say rock and roll?" Charlie said. "Let's party."
"On your command, Sean," I said over the radio. "Over."
Sean opened up with his .50 cal. Puh-puh-puh-puh-puh-puh-puh!
That .50 cal was loud, slow, and utterly devastating. I think Sean blew a hole through the center of mass of their spokesman. He flew backwards. Those cars and trucks barely slowed a .50 cal round, and then Dan opened up with his .50 cal. And everyone of the rest of us opened up next.
The only way one of those sorry bastards survived our attack was if he was behind the engine of a semi-tractor. A few tried to high tail it out of there, but they were mowed down by the M60 gunners. Charlie even got off four grenades.
"You know they weren't expecting that," Charlie said after Sean called the cease fire.
Sean and I dismounted to check it out. We didn't want any survivors to open up on our flank. With our luck, he'd light up the bus and kill women and children. So we went in ready for a fight. Four of the men were still alive and conscious. They didn't stay alive long.
The pickup blocking the way no longer started. I put it in neutral and we were just able to push it out of the way. The flat tires almost made it too hard, but we pushed downhill. After that, we checked the men for food, ammo, and weapons. Everything they had weapon-wise was for hunting. Nothing military, so we left it. They had some canned ravioli and soup that we took.
"Roger! Sean!" Jenny shouted. She was dismounted and in front of our vehicles. "There are some trucks coming up behind us!"
We ran back to the trucks.
"We're going to bug out," Sean said. He pointed at Dan and Oscar. "If the trucks coming up the road get too close, fire them up. We're not playing games here. Do not let them get close enough to fire upon us."
I jumped into my truck and Charlie headed out. The plow caught the two sedans to the left, forcing them to turn back, and opened up the passage a little more. The Humvee turned on the other side of the blockade and stopped. And then Sean stopped the last 5-ton.
"Looks like Sean doesn't plan to wait and see," Charlie said.
"Good," I said. "I don't trust strangers around my family."
The bus pulled up close behind us as we sped up the road. Just after going around the next bend, I heard the .50 cals open up. The firefight lasted less than a minute, but I'm sure Sean made our point.
It was suicide to chase us.
Chapter 28
The road was virtually clear of zombies all the way up to Williamsburg, Kentucky. It became increasingly thick with them after that. By the time we reached Corbin there was no avoiding them, so our speed dropped to 30 MPH and all Charlie could do was try and avoid the thickest concentrations within the horde. Zombies were pressed against the trucks so thick we had to drive through them practically bumper-to-bumper.
There was a whole lot of shooting going on. Still, some of them managed to get hold of the sides of the truck and started to climb up. Vince and Jake used pistols and M-4s to fight them off. I saw Sean smashing them off the Humvee with the butt of his rifle, as did Mike and I. Charlie had his pistol out, and shot any zombie trying to get into his door.
It got surreal for a while.
In Mt. Vernon we encountered three road blocks that weren't manned. The zombies either ate them or chased them off. I wasn't sure if they were trying to blockade against zombies or other survivors, but the first blockade was before we reached town. The highway was cut through solid rock, with cliffs on both sides. They had junk and dead cars piled up from cliff to cliff. We had to use the plow to break through, but the zombies just climbed over the blockade.
The next blockade was in the middle of the small dam the highway passed over. Again, it was unmanned and infested with zombies, forcing us to use the M60s to clear the road while we slowly plowed a path through the line of cars and pickups.
The last was the hairiest one of all. Again, the blockade was on a stretch of road cut into the bedrock. Rocky cliffs lined the road, with heavily forested hills above. Zombies came raining out of those trees, leaping upon our vehicles.
"Holy shit!" Charlie said when a zombie landed on the hood. It was a teenage African-American girl. She was dressed to impress when she was turned. Furious eyes turned on us, and then she started crawling toward the windshield. Her leg broke upon impact, but she gave no indication she was in pain or even cared. "Shoot her."
"Give me a sec," I said.
There was a zombie trying to open my door. I hit him in the face with the butt of my rifle, but he didn't seem that fazed. So I pulled my pistol and shot him between the eyes.
Charlie hit the brakes, and the zombie girl was thrown forward. Instead of flying over the plow and to the pavement, she fell down between. When she rose up one of the guys up top fired a five-round burst into her. And she died there, and stayed there.
"Dammit."
M-4 fire started up in back. I looked back into the cargo box and saw that zombies were jumping down upon us again. Vince and Jake were fighting for their lives.
"Be careful and don't shoot the vehicles behind us!" I shouted.
"We're trying!" Jake cried.
"Fuck it," I growled, and rolled down my window. I pulled my pistol and shot five zombies in the face right off. "Keep going!"
I rolled the window up after the area was clear. I connected my M-4 to the one-point strap and stood up in my seat. That gave me a perfect angle to shoot at the zombies struggling with Vince and Jake.
"Heads up!" Charlie shouted.
I looked back and saw we were about to plow into the barricade. I dropped back down before we hit, avoiding being thrown off the front of the truck. Unfortunately, two zombies were thrown forward and on top of me when the truck slammed into a car blocking our way.
"Son of a bitch!" I screamed.
I kicked and elbowed, and then used the butt of my rifle. The one-point strap restricted my use of the rifle in that manner, until I was able to pop it loose. I barely managed to keep their snapping teeth out of me and Charlie. Vince and Jake finally killed the other zombies, and then yanked those two off of me. And killed them.
"Thanks," I gasped out. "Wow."
We were through the barricade by that point. I joined them in back to fire upon the zombies crowding around the bus. Vince, Jake, and Sean were also firing at them, all of us trying to save the women and children. Poor Mike and Brett were on their own, but doing okay.
"This is insane," Jake said.
"It'll get better," I said.
"Promise?"
"Yes. When we reach Canada," I said.
I had to stay in back to fight off zombies until we passed out of the hills and onto some flat ground. Charlie found a spot relatively clear of zombies to allow me to return to my seat. Sean did a quick damage assessment. A few windows were broken in the bus, as well as deep dents in its roof. Mike's 5-ton got through unscathed.
"We'll look for a safe place to spend the night after we pass through Lexington," Sean radioed.
In Richmond there were so many wrecked and abandoned vehicles on the road that we had to exit off and take city streets past the blockage. More wrecked cars forced us to turn east on Eastern Bypass. The city streets weren't nearly as filled with zombies as the highway, but we couldn't turn north until we reached the Eastern Kentucky University campus, and then we headed up Lancaster Avenue. Charlie turned left on Main Street and that took us back to Highway 25, which was just about a block up from I-75.
"It was kind of touristy, but I enjoyed our little side-trip," Charlie said.
The zombie population stayed relatively unchanged, but the number of wrecked and abandoned vehicles on the road increased dramatically. Fortunately, most were on the southbound lanes. We still had to pick our way through them on some stretches of road. So it was almost dark by the time we reached Lexington, Kentucky, thanks mostly to the dark, low clouds overhead.
Those dark clouds finally opened up at that time, too. The temperature dropped dramatically, which I found refreshing.
"Why are you so happy," I asked, noticing Charlie smiling.
"The rain has cooled everything down," he said. "And it beats being Vince, Jake, Brian, and Kate, who are exposed and facing this downpour, while I'm mostly protected by the windshield."
He had a point. Those four must be miserable. Lightning flashed brightly, the thunder was loud and shook the truck, so had to be hitting close.
"You're such a compassionate bastard," I said, grinning.
The negative was it brought us down to a crawl. The highway through Lexington was the worst I'd seen. It looked like every car and truck in town was on the road when the EMP struck. We spent most of the time on the shoulder, and then had to use the plow and superior weight to force our way through bottlenecks like bridges. Charlie had the headlights on bright just to see far enough ahead so we could plot our way through that mess, going from one shoulder to the other depending on which was clear.
"Roger, what the hell are you doing?" Sean called over the radio. "We're almost to the turn-off for I-75 north, and you're on the wrong side of the road."
We were on the right shoulder at the time. I looked at the map.
"Dammit, Charlie," I pointed to a ramp-bridge rising up and over the highway to our left front. "We have to get over there."
He shook his head and found a place with some small economy cars stopped on the road. We tore into them, shoving them aside. At first it was easy, but as they began to pile up, we slowed down, straining. Charlie was pushing three little cars, so he stopped, backed up a few feet, and then hit them from a different angle and was able to break through about fifty feet from the off-ramp.
"Well that just sucks greasy donkey balls," Charlie said. "What now, Sarge?"
I gawked at the mess before us. Two semi-tractor rigs had overturned to completely block access to the exit. We were forced to continue up I-64 west. Sean wasn't happy, and sounded like he blamed us, without outright saying it.
"Keep going this way," he called. "We'll find a place to spend the night and then figure out how to get back onto I-75 in the morning, over."
The zombie population thinned out as we moved westward down I-64. I kept a close lookout for a barn or steel building we could pull all four vehicles into. It was so dark and rainy, I couldn't see anything until we reached Frankfort, and then spotted some large warehouse looking struct
ures to the right.
Charlie wanted to go cross-country to them, but I didn't think the bus would make it. So we found the next exit, circled back by a Best Western, and found a large warehouse. About half of the loading dock bay doors were open. I dismounted with Vince and we went inside to check it out.
The warehouse was empty of people. All the way in back we found a bay door that we could drive our vehicles inside. We hurried the trucks inside as the rain began to intensify, thunder and lightning crashing and flashing. If felt good to be out of that mess.
"We have to top off before we leave tomorrow," Charlie said. "I'm on empty."
There were semi-tractor rigs parked outside the warehouse, so that shouldn't be a problem. Getting gas for the bus might be a bit more of an issue.
First thing, we closed all of the bay doors and regular doors. The women began setting up camp stoves, kerosene lanterns, and deciding where everyone would sleep. The drivers and gunners all met up with Sean and me. Sean organized the guard for the night, before we got down and studied the map.
"I was studying the roads out, and I don't think we can just go back up I-64 and access I-75. Too many cars blocking the way, but we can take 460 from Frankfort to Georgetown, and get back on I-75 there."
"Do you want to venture out tonight to look for fuel?" I asked. "Or wait for daylight, which would mean a late start tomorrow."
"I think we should consider spending a day here," Jenny said as she joined us. "Just about everyone on the bus, especially the kids, were scared out of their wits today. After a week of this crap, I think day of rest is in order."
"It's only been six days," Mike said, but clammed up when she gave him a withering look.
"Even the Lord rested on the seventh day," she said.
I looked at Sean, and we both shrugged. Nothing said we couldn't stay there another day. I felt a little frazzled, as well.
Three explosions in quick succession rattled the building.
"That wasn't thunder," Charlie said. "Tanks?"
"No. It couldn't be," I said.