America the Dead

by Joseph Talluto

  I heard several more shots being fired and the sound of the RV roaring to life. The last sound I heard was Tommy screaming my name as the RV pulled away. After that I didn’t hear anything.

  26

  I opened my eyes to what I thought was some time later and stared at the weird scene in front of me. There was a long metal bar right above my face and another at a cross section. If this was the afterlife, it was already a disappointment. My head cleared a bit and I began to realize what had happened. Somebody had shot me and I was under the truck I had been investigating. I reached down to where my wound was and poked around a bit. My vest was frayed and there was a lot of busted metal that pricked my probing fingers. My side hurt like hell, but it didn’t feel as bad as I thought it would. I had heard that getting shot in the gut was as bad as it could be and doomed the recipient to an agonizing death. If this was agonizing pain, I was tougher than I thought I was. I explored my head wound and found a gash near my hairline. My face was crusted with drying blood, so I was sure I looked a fright.

  I could hear the sounds of gunfire, so I figured my friends were still in the fray, taking on whoever had shot me. I raised my hand and looked at my fingers, expecting to see them covered in blood. I was rather surprised they weren’t.

  What the hell? I started to sit up, but my side hurt again and I bumped my head on the axle of the truck. Falling back, I put my hand out and touched the stock of my M1A. I looked at it for a second and figured I must have grabbed it before I took shelter under the truck. I didn’t remember doing either of those things, so it was another surprise.

  I rolled over, wincing as a fresh wave of pain hit my gut and crawled out on the opposite side of the truck. Whoever had shot me was pretty lousy at assassination, since I was a fairly lively corpse. But if they were still out there, I didn’t want to offer them a chance to correct their mistake.

  I got to my knees and willed myself to look at the damage. I was expecting to see blood soaked clothing and a very disturbing hole in my sacred person. What I was not expecting to see was a vest pocket blown away and a very badly damaged rifle magazine. Several rounds had exploded when they had been hit, rupturing the mag and blowing out the pocket.

  I thought I knew what had happened. The sniper had hastily taken his shot, since I had gotten out before the planned ambush site and the round had punched into one of the steel-sided magazines for my rifle. The steel had absorbed most of the energy of the round, but it had enough to penetrate three of my cartridges, causing them to fire and blow the mag apart at the front. One of the rounds went north and had struck me a glancing blow to the head. Two inches to the left and I’d be dead.

  I was going to be sore as hell for a while for taking a hit from a rifle and having a small explosion at my liver, but there was no way around the truth. I was luckier than I had a right to be. Somewhere out there, there was a guy who couldn’t walk through a doorway without bumping something. I had all of his luck, as well as mine.

  I looked over my M1A for damage and it had nothing worse than a few dings in the stock and flash hider from its fall to the ground. As I wiped it off and checked the barrel for obstructions, the sound of gunfire came to me again and in a flash, I was pissed. I also clearly understood what the circles and symbols meant on the map. This was an ambush for me, sent by Thorton.

  My blood went cold as I let my rage build. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, pulling in the pain from the near miss and drawing strength from it. As I opened my eyes I smiled grimly to no one. The killer was free.

  The shots I was hearing came from the south, so I decided to head that way. I wanted to fight, to kill and every second of delay made me angrier. I ran back to a side street and worked my way south, with the notion that I might be able to come up behind the attackers and take them by surprise. I had no idea who was alive or how many people were still fighting. I did know one thing for sure.

  I knew who was not going to live.

  The road I limped down was called Fire Lane and it was pretty much an alley between two larger roads. But it gave me a corridor to approach the firefight unseen. I passed by the Harrisburg Community Center and I glanced at it briefly, thinking I saw something move in the shadows. But I didn’t have time to care, as the firing intensified. Somebody had somebody else pinned down pretty good, but the fact that the firing kept up gave me hope that someone was still up and fighting.

  Fire Lane ended at Walnut Street, where a day care center sat on the corner. Across the street I could see some houses that looked to be occupied by the dead and they were standing at the windows, looking out at the action. I still couldn’t tell where the firing was coming from, but it seemed I was a lot closer. The shots were less frequent, only an occasional round being fired here and there. It sounded like the two sides had settled into a kind of a stalemate.

  Crossing Walnut, I made my way around a small strip mall, aware that the firing seemed to be coming from the building right in front of me. I thought it was a grocery store, but it could have been anything. I moved further to the east to see if I could get a glimpse of the situation and when I did, I could see the RV parked next to a brick building. Moving a little more, I could see it was a post office. I smiled. Trust Nate to find the best building for defense. Old time post offices were built like bomb shelters and it would take a hell of a hit to bring it down. The brick allowed for good protection from gunfire and the steel mesh covering the windows prevented more accurate shots from finding their targets.

  I could see rounds bouncing off the walls as less-than-precise firing came from the building across the street. As I looked, rifles poked out from the building next to the post office, making escape impossible. Nate and the others were pinned down, no question about it. They were going to either be killed or die of dehydration. Neither of which was an option to my liking.

  I decided to take on the building next door to the Post Office, figuring it had fewer men inside. That was a pure guess, but it made sense. I needed to get across the street without being seen, so I backtracked a block and ran down Walnut to Spruce Street. I cut across Columbus and made my way through overgrown backyards, stepping around discarded children’s toys and playhouses. Lonely swings squeaked a greeting as I moved quietly past. I worked my way close to a house and crawled around a swimming pool, gritting my teeth against the pain in my side. I hoped like hell I didn’t have any internal bleeding or I was going to be mad.

  The way looked clear and I moved silently over to the door. As luck would have it, the entrance was on the side away from the street, so I could enter without being seen by the group across the way. Hopefully, my luck would hold out a little longer.

  I figured my rifle would be too much for close in work, so I slung it across my back and pulled my knife. I needed to do this quietly and try not to alert anyone I was there until it was too late. I had my SIG if I needed it, but I hoped I wouldn’t.

  Opening the door, I stepped inside quickly, ducking to the side and letting my eyes adjust to the interior. I was in a professional office building and that made my job easier. A large open place like a restaurant would be tough, but small offices made moving around unseen that much more expedient.

  I looked quickly at a floor plan that outlined where the offices were. If I guessed right, my enemies were in the real estate offices on the far side of the building. Okay, that worked. I went to the first office and opened the door casually. I figured to act as if I belonged there and let surprise do my job for me. If I was an attacker, someone who was sneaking around would make me pay attention much more than someone who acted like they were supposed to be there.

  The first office was empty, so I moved on to the next one. That one had a big conference room table right in the middle of it and I was shocked to see a slim brunette lying on it. She didn’t look dead to me, so I walked over and tapped her on the back. I jumped back as she sat up suddenly, bringing her bound hands up in front of her face, a face I noted that had several bruises on it.

&nb
sp; “Don’t!” she yelled.

  “Shh!” I said, holding up a hand. “I’m not here to hurt you. Who are you?” I had a suspicion I knew who she was, but I was curious to see if her story matched Janna’s, the woman who led us into this trap and nearly got me killed.

  “Who are you?” she challenged, looking at my bloody face. “If you’re not one of them, what are you doing here?”

  I couldn’t blame her for her tone, given the evidence of her rough treatment. I had a wild notion to say I was Luke Skywalker and I was here to rescue her, but I figured she wasn’t old enough to know what in thunder I was talking about.

  “Name’s John. You?”

  “Gina. Cut me loose and let’s get out of here! They’ll be back soon!” She held out her bound hands and pleaded with her eyes.

  “Not yet. I need some information from you and I don’t like to repeat myself. So whatever I ask you, answer quickly. Got it?” I sounded brutal, but lives were on the line as shots came from the back of the building.

  Gina nodded and looked at me with big brown eyes. I had just a few questions. “How many are there? What kind of weapons do they have and why did they ambush us?’ I wasn’t going to get into a grudge match just because my side hurt.

  “There’s four of them here and six more across the street. They have black military guns, not like yours and I don’t know why they want to kill you, they didn’t say.” The words came at a rush and she inhaled deeply when she finished. It was valuable information, no doubt and gave me what I needed to know.

  “I’m going to take care of the men here, then I’m going to get the others. One last question: Did your friend Janna deliberately lead us to an ambush?” I stared hard at Gina, hoping my suspicions were false.

  Gina lowered her eyes. “They killed our friend and threatened worse for me if she didn’t cooperate. The men here have been telling me what they’re going to do to me once they kill your friends.”

  I was relieved to hear that and it was strengthened my resolve to kill every one of these sons of bitches. Once upon a time I would have recoiled from wholesale murder, but that part of me was gone, replaced by a killer survivor. Mentally, I shrugged. This was what I had become.

  I cut Gina’s bonds and led her out to the receptionist’s desk. “Stay here until I get back. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

  Gina nodded and before I could stop her, leaned in quickly and kissed my cheek. “Thank you,” she said as she squatted down behind the desk.

  I nodded and readied myself for some serious exercise. Moving through the dark hallway, I worked my way to the back rooms where shots were still being fired. As I came near the corner, a shape came around and lunged at me. I stepped back and brought up my knife, swinging my arm to deflect the outstretched arms. The heavy blade sank deep into the neck of my enemy, cutting off his air supply and dropping him quickly and quietly. As I let him fall I realized this was not a zombie, but one of the men attacking my friends. His feet drummed the floor weakly as he grabbed his ruined throat, suffocating on his own blood. He must have been on his way to keep his promise to Gina when he bumped into me.

  As his thrashing slowed and came to a halt, I peeked around the corner to see if I could get an idea of where exactly the rest were. Two doors in the small hallway were open and a third leading to an inner area was open as well, giving access to what probably was a storage room. If I was really lucky, there was a wall between the two rooms allowing me to operate undetected.

  I slid along the wall, trying to keep as low a profile as possible. The light from the two rooms was enough to illuminate the hallway and I could see to the other end of the building. Motivational posters lined the walls, full of crap about believing in the power of your dreams and teamwork. I wish just once they’d made one that said ‘Get back to work. Staring at pretty pictures doesn’t make money for the company.’ At least it would be honest.

  Crouching low, I approached the first open door and glanced inside. A small man was seated by the window, his rifle up and aimed at the Post Office next door. As I watched, he fired another round, muttering to himself. “Hope you get one in the gut, you fuckers. I got your man and I’m gonna get you.” I looked down at my close call and bared my teeth. This one just became personal.

  I darted around the corner and went full tilt across the office, slamming into the man and driving him into the widow ledge. His breath came out in a bark as I hit him and I drove an elbow into the side of his head as he bounced off the wall.

  While he lay stunned, I took his rifle and threw it into the corner, quickly checking him for sidearms. When I saw he had none, I holstered my SIG. I kept my knife out, though.

  The man, whose name tag read Hodges, shook his head and got painfully to his feet. The window ledge had caught him square in the chest and I was sure his head rang from my elbow strike. He looked at me with dazed eyes, then as recognition hit him, he opened his mouth to yell. I shut him up with a sharp punch to the chin, snapping his head back and knocking him over his chair. I waited for him and this time he got up slower than before. His eyes glowed with hate as he pulled his own knife and began waving it in front of himself.

  “So you lived, huh? Well, I like this better. The sarge said to wait, but you got out early. Thought my gut shot would have taken you down by now.” At the last word he lunged without warning, the knife blade glittering at my face. It would have taken me right in the eye had I stayed put.

  I moved slightly to the right and ducked my head, letting the blade go past me and bringing up my left hand for an uppercut that snapped his teeth shut and took him to the floor once again. Hodges’ eyes narrowed as he scrambled to his feet again.

  I spun my knife on my hand, waiting for him to make another move. He looked at my blade and realized I was playing with him, that I could kill at my leisure. His eyes darted to the rifle on the floor. He suddenly threw the knife at me and dove for the gun. I ducked as the blade went harmlessly past me to clatter against the far wall and struck out with a viscous kick to his ribs just as he bent down to pick up the fallen weapon.

  Hodges’ face twisted in pain as one, probably two, ribs snapped from my kick. He hit the wall heavily and sank, holding his side as tears leaked out of his closed eyes.

  “Just finish me, you shit. You’ll never get us all. You and your friends are as good as dead.” He was game to the end, I had to give him that. Hodges grabbed the rifle from the floor and as he swung it up to fire, I lunged forward and drove my knife deep into his chest, coming up under the sternum and severing his heart. Hodges’ face twisted in fresh pain, then relaxed as death pulled his soul from him.

  I drew my knife out and looked into his lifeless eyes. As I wiped off his blood, I couldn’t help but wonder why I didn’t feel anything about killing this man. Maybe it was because he was trying to kill me. But I felt nothing, not good, not bad, nothing. It was almost like I was just doing a job, something that needed to be done. It was strange and I would have to reflect on it further, but I had two more men to kill.

  I checked the hallway to see if anyone had heard our scuffle, but it seemed like no one had. Moving into the hall, I slid along the wall and spared a glance into the next open door. This office was bigger, with three desks and a partition. A man was seated again at the window and another was sitting in an office chair, leaning back and watching the other man fire at the building next door. His rifle was across his lap, waiting its turn to try and kill my friends.

  I looked at my knife and considered my options, then sheathed it. I had no more time for theatrics and my side and head still hurt like hell. I pulled my SIG and walked right into the room, coming up behind the reclining man. I aimed at the junction of his neck and shoulder and fired, sending a round down into his chest and obliterating his heart.

  As his companion died, the one at the window spun around at the shot, bringing his rifle around to try and get it into play. I didn’t waste time and pumped three rounds into his chest and abdomen, killing him in
stantly. He slumped down under the window as blood flowed out of his wounds.

  I moved back to the hallway and waited, making sure these were the last men in the building. I heard nothing and saw no one new, I wanted to send a message back to the rest of the men still firing on my friends. I could hear the shots and fortunately, I could hear return fire coming from the Post Office. I went down the hall to the furthest office and stepped inside, quickly scanning for threats. The big window on the back wall looked out over the road and across the street. I had a good view of the attacker’s position and as I checked for opposition, I could see two men at an upstairs window. They were using a pretty good method of firing. One would shoot then duck, while the other would wait for return fire and then open up. I’d have to remember that one.

  The good news was no one from the other position could see that the men in this building had been taken out. They’d figure it out in a bit when no one from this building fired on the Post Office. The better news was the fools in the far building were hiding behind cinder block walls. They were going to get lively in a hurry.

  I opened the big window about three inches and settled down with my back to a desk. From my angle I could just make out the second floor of the opposing building. I was four feet back from the window, so it was going to be difficult to figure out where the shots were coming from. I liked their method, maybe they’d like mine. I lifted my heavy rifle and flicked off the safety, getting a sight picture with the rear peep sight.