Z-Risen (Book 5): Barriers

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Z-Risen (Book 5): Barriers Page 6

by Long, Timothy W.


  Slapping the mag home, I chambered a fresh round and put a hole in a Z’s forehead just above their left eye before my gun jammed.

  Joel covered for me while I got the spent shell out, and then shot until I was down to my last three rounds, which meant I'd burned through a dozen shots in a less than two minutes.

  Joel fell back to reload, and I took up my wrench and provided cover.

  Erik and Scott joined us, and together the four of us considered our options. The two men who had been working in the woods had faded from sight. They hadn't said a word, just disappeared. I didn't blame them one damn bit.

  "What happened back there? Thought you guys left," I said.

  "A bunch of them lurked in the woods. They saw us first so we went and took care of them," Erik said.

  "Nice," I muttered.

  "We should get the hell out of here," Erik said.

  "Damn straight," Joel said. "Only thing is I'm worried about how close these guys are to our home. We should lead them away."

  "ATV's?" I asked.

  Joel nodded, but then seemed to think better of the idea.

  "If we cut across that field and keep them in sight, they should follow. See that tree line at six o'clock?" Joel pointed.

  "Lose `em in there," I said. “This close to Fortress?”

  “Don’t worry. They’ll wander in that direction for days. Brainless idiots.”

  “Okay, man. That might work,” I said.

  "Probably as good a plan as any. Once we get in the woods we can play it by ear,” Erik said and wiped a splash of blood off his face with the back of his arm. “Katherine is hunkered down. I'll stay with her if you guys can get them to follow."

  I kept an eye on the advancing horde. They had closed to about twenty-five feet. If we had enough ammo, we might have been able to drop them all.

  The freshest of the Zs, a bastard with a huge beard that was covered in blood, stumbled into a pair of Zs. The trio went down in a heap, taking several more zombies with them. But he was somehow back on his feet first. He outweighed me by at least fifty pounds. I advanced on him, intent on taking out the threat while Joel, Scott, and Erik fell back. But when I swung at him, he managed to stumble on a busted-up leg. I caught his upper arm, but it was like hitting a thawed Thanksgiving turkey.

  "Little help here?" I said over my shoulder.

  Joel seemed to be having some trouble with his assault rifle. I sized the big Z up, and he did the same of me. Only the way he sized me up was by looking for something, anything, to chomp his teeth into. I swung the wrench back around for a second blow, but he was already on me.

  "Hey, guys, little help here," I called again.

  "On my way," Joel said.

  Erik closed form the side while Scott backed him up.

  I knocked one grasping hand away, but the guy got his other on my jacket arm and pulled. I was yanked off balance, though instead of falling, I used his momentum to step to his side. Mistake because a second Z was right behind the bearded zomb-bro.

  He took me to the dirt. Got his hands around my midsection like a tackler. I was already off balance and couldn't recover so we sprawled together with me taking the brunt of the impact.

  The Z came at my face, but I managed to elbow him across the cheek. Not much behind the blow. Getting the wind knocked out of you will mess up your reaction.

  The second Z, all three hundred plus pounds of him, hit the ground and came at me.

  With strength failing and my ability to hold back one Z, let alone two, at a new low, it was all I could do to get my boot in the bigger guy’s face. He latched onto my foot and bit my boot. I pulled back and kicked him again.

  The first Z wasn't about to give up. His rancid breath and gore covered face were all I could smell and see. Christ, I wanted to toss up my meager breakfast. Something splattered across my forehead, and the desire to wipe it away, like it was a huge spider, almost overrode my sense of self-preservation.

  Then the Z was hauled off me.

  I pulled back my foot and kicked the bearded Z in the face so hard his bones crunched, but he was far from being out of gas.

  Joel stepped over me and fired his rifle a few times.

  That's when I noticed Erik had been the one who had drug the rotter off me.

  I rolled over and got to all fours. Just a few seconds. That's all I needed. Just a little time to catch my breath. Adrenaline raced through my system, and my heart pounded in my chest. My guts were knotted up.

  I looked back and found we were completely surrounded. More Zs had poured out of the woods and were about to make lunch out of us. Jesus! Why in the hell didn't we make a run for it while we had the chance? I was so exhausted I didn't think I'd be able to help break free of this mass.

  Then a gun boomed, and I snapped my head back around to find Anna Sails and her handgun. The .357 was a huge weapon, but she always held it in a steady grip. She fired and a Z dropped.

  Christy moved behind her and used a little snub nosed .38 to take out targets. They worked freaky well as a team and managed to open a hole in the horde. Joel grabbed the collar of my overalls and hauled me up as he sped past my nearly prone form.

  Erik and Joel barreled into a pair of Zs, and our path was suddenly open. Joel used the butt of his rifle to knock a questing zombie back. I managed to lift my arm long enough to get a half-decent swing in and send another Z sailing. But the blow took me off balance, and I was back on my hands and knees again.

  I scraped my hands bloody on the ground but made it to my feet and staggered, feeling like one of the zombies until we were through the mass, applying my wrench at every opportunity. I broke arms, shattered clavicles, and caved in a few foreheads.

  "Back to Fortress. Let's move it, people," Joel ordered.

  That sounded like a fine idea to me. When surrounded by the dead, it's usually the best bet to get the hell out of the mess. As long as there aren't a couple of shufflers, you can usually outrun Zs even at a slow clip. The dead don't exactly have sprinting capabilities.

  Erik broke away and made for a low rock wall. He helped Katherine out, and the pair of them stumbled after us. Scott covered them while our group managed to make it back together.

  Anna made eye contact with me and gave me a quick grin. I nodded back. Christy shot me a quick salute and wink.

  We put some distance between us and the mini-horde, but they weren't giving up easily. Worse, thanks to all the noise, we were drawing more by the second. There were at least thirty or forty. They came at us with arms up, hands dangling, necks cocked, wounds on display. A ragged mass of fucked up humanity if one ever existed.

  We had gotten too far from our ATVs, and we would have to come back for them. Plus, there wasn't enough room for all of us if we tried to pile on.

  I hustled to Anna's side, and she put her arm around my waist. I resisted the urge to lean on her. My legs were on fire and so were my lungs. We'd been doing this shit for months, and it was still amazing how quickly I could run out of juice. Call it a rush of adrenaline along with a healthy dose of manic over-exertion in a shot amount of time. Anything less than a marathon runner would feel the same damn way.

  "Where’d you pick up the strays?" she said.

  "Long story."

  We broke for Fortress and pounded over the pavement. I hoped it wasn't a bad idea bringing them and Katherine back to our home. Shit. We didn't know them from Adam. Sure, they'd been helpful, but that didn't mean they weren't bidding their time until they could shoot us and steal our goods. But I had a good feeling about them. They, like us, had been through hell, and they were still here.

  Joel ran ahead, and then dashed to the side of the road. He dropped to one knee and lined up to shoot more Zs.

  "If we can get away without a shot, they won't have any noise to follow," Erik said.

  "What do you recommend?"

  "They aren't very smart. If we disappear and then backtrack a little bit, they'll stumble into the woods and get lost," he said.

/>   I liked the idea but waited for Joel. He lowered his rifle and nodded once.

  "That's smart. You a smart guy all the time?"

  "Smart enough to survive out here for as long as we have," Erik said.

  "I'm smart, too, but more of the smart ass type," the Scott said.

  "I like your style." I nodded at Scott.

  Joel picked a break in the woods and we ducked into it. The trees grew close together here and, within a few seconds, we'd faded from sight. The problem was the Zs wandered toward the big copse at an angle from us.

  "Go in. I'll distract them, and when they are close lead them straight in. Go about fifty feet, then cut left. I'll be there shortly," Erik said.

  "I got your back," Scott said to Erik.

  How many times had I said the same thing to Joel, and him to me?

  "Thanks for the assist," I said as we faded back into the woods.

  "You helped us, we help you. It's not all dog-eat-dog," Erik said.

  "It has been since this nightmare started," I said.

  "Lotta dogs, not enough meat," Joel chimed in.

  "That's so deep, Joel." I said. "You should write a fucking self-help book when the zombie fucking apocalypse is over."

  "I'll dedicate it to your dumb ass," Joel shot back.

  I stifled a laugh, and we moved out.

  "That spot near the rock wall you were hiding Katherine. Make that our rendezvous point. Meet up in fifteen," Joel said.

  "On it," Erik said.

  Christy grabbed my hand and tugged me into the woods. Anna joined us and covered our back. I couldn't help but notice she kept her gun trained not only on our back, but also our new friends. I hoped this wouldn't become a problem.

  Loss of a Friend

  We dashed into the woods and angled our path to the left. This was either a great idea, splitting up our group, or it would make us smaller, more bite-sized zombie chunks. If Erik led the Zs away it would give us a chance to get to Fortress, then he could meet up there later. I didn't have much left. I needed some food as well. Today had started out with some scouting and had quickly degenerated into a complete mess.

  Moving deeper into the woods would definitely split up the horde and leave them less organized.

  Not only that, but they would get hung up in these damn woods. It was a pain in the ass for us to navigate all the low hanging branches. A Z wouldn't even realize he'd become stuck until he or she struggled long enough for us to escape. Then it could wander around for the next few days and not even come close to us.

  In the distance, a dog howled and that made me think of Frosty.

  "Where's our killer mutt?" I asked Anna.

  "Left her upstairs. She was whining to go out and start some shit," Anna said.

  "She misses you," Christy said.

  Christy's forehead had a splash of blood across it. I pointed at my own forehead and made a wiping motion.

  "I know. I'm a mess," Christy said.

  "Maybe our killer will lick it off when we get home," I said

  "Yeah. Great plan," Anna interjected. "Get the dog to lick zombie blood. She'll probably go crazy and eat your face."

  I leaned over and planted a kiss on Anna's cheek.

  "If you get Z blood on my face, I'm going to make you wash it off," she said. "Not the dog."

  "I'll wash anything you put in front of me," I said.

  We'd been keeping Frosty indoors with the exception of walks along the perimeter of Fortresses every couple of hours. She was smart enough to keep her muzzle closed unless one of the Zs got too close. Even then, instead of barking her fool head off, she'd warn us by dashing in the direction of the threat. She was more about snarls and teeth than sudden bursts of barking.

  The sound of Zs moving around our perimeter kept me on edge. I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder at every twig snap, every branch moving with the wind.

  A pair of Zs appeared ahead. I dropped one with the crunch of my wrench, and Joel took care of the other one with his big knife. Then we were past them.

  When we'd reached what felt like fifty yards, at least as far as Joel's super-Marine senses could be trusted, we hung a sharp left, fighting branches and roots the entire time. Anna took my hand and gave it a squeeze so I squeezed back.

  We ran into another Z, but he was stuck to the side of a tree. Someone had rammed a huge spike into his chest and into the bark. The zombie reached for us as we ran by, hands tearing at the air. His feet didn't even touch the ground. Zombies suck but, man, whoever did that was just a dick.

  Gunshots sounded in from the direction we'd fled. Erik and Scott must have managed to run into more trouble. I thought about going back to help them because the half-assed plan we'd tossed together sucked.

  "This better work," I muttered.

  Joel had closed the gap and was at our side as we fought the brush.

  "He obviously knows what he's doing if he's leading a bunch of Zs away. Besides we don't know him. If he gets eaten, it's not like he's part of the family," Joel said.

  "After all the trouble we went through in rescuing him and his girl? Seems like we all might make a good team," I protested.

  "And three more mouths to feed. I saw two other guys out there. Did you bring those strays home as well?" Anna asked.

  "Never saw them before, and they seemed to have fucked off," I said.

  "We're right here, brother," a voice said to my left.

  I spun and lifted my gun. Joel trained his on the men as well.

  "Peace. We're not here to cause trouble. Just a couple of travelers passing through."

  The man with the long brown and gray beard materialized out of the woods. He was dressed in dark camouflage, and he had his hands up. A hunting rifle was slung over his shoulder by a thick olive green strap. His companion came out as well with his arms up. He bore an impressive number of weapons, including two handguns, a huge hunting knife in a dark sheath, and a shotgun with a short barrel that he wore in a custom holster along his leg.

  "I promise you. We mean you no harm," the older guy said.

  "Heard that before," Joel muttered.

  Joel kept his assault rifle trained on the men. Anna had her handgun in one hand and at waist level. I knew her well enough to know that she could get off a shot before either one of them had time to finish doing something stupid.

  I grabbed Christy's arm and pushed her behind me so she was shielded by my frame.

  "I'm Jimmy Thomas, and this fella is Alex Johnson. We're with Voodoo north out of Portland. Heard of us?" The bearded man said.

  "Nope," I said.

  "We're a new force being put together by General Vanderbilt. Our goal is eradication of the dead from this area. We had a base of operations, and you're welcome to join us. Lots of food but, more importantly, we have a near constant supply of weapons."

  "The last time we got invited to a base, it wasn't exactly with open arms. Know what I mean?" Joel said.

  "It's not like that. There are remnants of the government in place, and they're assisting. We get regular deliveries. Lots and lots of ammo. Here's the deal. We're gonna go in peace. No reason for us to fight. But you wanna see what we're up to, I'll give you a flyer. I need to get it out of my pocket." The man pointed at his tactical vest. "I'll move nice and slow.

  "Did you say a fucking pamphlet?" I said.

  "No, I said a flyer. But it you want to have relations with it later, that's your call."

  I sputtered, and then laughed.

  "This is not a joke ladies and gentlemen," Alex said. "I know what it's like out there. I lived it for months. For the first time since the world went to hell I feel like we have a chance at survival."

  He slowly lifted a pouch and took out a piece of paper that was folded in half. More of the papers threatened to spill out so he stuffed them back in. Then he proffered the item to me.

  I took it and backed up.

  "We'll be going," Alex said. "I know my words probably don't mean a lot. I get it. Seen the wo
rst in humanity too many times myself. But I promise you, ladies and gentlemen, this is a real opportunity. A chance to set right some of the wrongs."

  As far as speeches went, it wasn't great, but I couldn't help but feel a ray of hope. What if there really was a group out there fighting back.

  "I have something you can use right now. Show of goodwill and all that. Mind if I lower my pack?" Alex asked.

  Joel nodded but kept his gun steady.

  Alex shrugged his backpack to the ground, and then showed us the top. He opened the flap letting us see his every movement. He reached in and took out a clear bag that was filled with a half-dozen brown boxes.

  "Courtesy of the United States government," he said and tossed it on the ground in front of us.

  Joel let out a low whistle.

  "Are those?" I started to say.

  "MREs." Anna said.

  "Just read that paper and think about it. We take in new people every day from noon to three. You show up, don't do anything stupid, and you'll get in the door."

  "What if we do something stupid?" I couldn't help but ask.

  "Worse ways to go than a quick bullet to the skull," Scott said.

  "How do we know you aren't just collecting people for slave labor or food?" I said.

  "Food? Like cannibalism? That's gross, man," Alex said and shook his head.

  "Just asking," I said lamely.

  "Just read that. If you're interested, show up, and we'll give you the tour," Jimmy said.

  He lowered his hands, and then motioned to Tim. The pair nodded at us and backed away.

  Scott eyed the MRE's, and then stuffed them in his backpack. I could have sworn he was practically drooling.

  The men faded backward and were soon gone. Joel kept his gun trained on them but, from his body language, I knew he was also conflicted. We weren't in the business of shooting other people dead when they looked at us wrong. These guys had helped us, and then offered us something like hope. I was relieved that Anna and Joel didn't start shooting

  I looked down and opened the piece of paper.

  It was on heavy stock and in black and white. The headline was large and hand written but it was obviously a copy.

 

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