by Ricky Sides
Next, he purchased several pairs of binoculars and a powerful battery-powered spotlight.
It was 4:25 A.M. when Herb closed the camper shell door for the last time in the Walmart parking lot. “Let’s go home, boy,” he said to Ox, who would have to ride in the cab with him because there wasn’t room in the back of the truck.
Herb drove carefully on the trip back to his house because his truck was loaded so heavily. He pulled into his garage and locked the bay door. Then he and Ox entered the house from the side door. He led the dog back out to the front porch where he gave him a fresh bowl of water and fed him again. Once more, the dog fell on the food as if it were ravenous. “You earned another dinner tonight. Sleep well, boy,” he said as he headed back inside.
At some point during the night, Herb changed his mind about finding the dog another home. In the days and weeks to come, the big dog would probably earn its keep a dozen times over as it drove away people who might want to steal his supplies.
Chapter 5
Battles
“You heard me, Corporal! I said get your ass to your duty station. I don’t for one minute believe you’re sick, but if you are, then you may have the disease that is spreading and turning these nut cases into homicidal maniacs!” shouted Herb’s sergeant.
“It’s not that. I just have a bad case of diarrhea. It’s probably from that lousy chow we tried to eat yesterday,” Herb responded.
“I don’t give a shit if you have to yank out your car seat and plop a toilet in its place. You get your ass to your duty station, or I’ll send some men to get you. Half the damned unit is calling in today. As it is, we’ll be hard pressed to man the bridges in and out of the city to maintain the quarantine,” the sergeant said angrily, and then Herb heard a dial tone and knew that the irate NCO had just hung up the phone.
“Shit!” he said in exasperation as he hung up his own telephone receiver.
The phone rang before he even took his hand off of it. He looked at the identity of the incoming call and picked up the receiver once more. “Herb here,” he said into the mouthpiece.
“I’m calling to warn you,” Randy’s voice said.
Herb thought he sounded excited, and he could picture the lanky twenty-six year old private pacing the floor as he made the call. “Let me guess,” Herb said. “The sergeant is on the warpath,” he added.
“You’ve got that right. He just reamed me out for calling in sick,” Randy responded.
“Same here. He’s demanding I get to my duty station,” replied Herb.
“What do you plan to do?” asked Randy. “I mean, I know we have plans to go to your Grandfather’s cabin, but are you going to go to Decatur today and bug out tonight or what?”
“It sounds as if we may have to go in for duty. He threatened to send people after me.”
“Okay, so what are we going to do? I haven’t had a chance to get any supplies yet, so the supplies I could take on the trip are pretty limited.” Randy explained.
“Don’t worry about supplies, other than ammunition. I’ll explain later. For now, let’s go to the bridge. We’ll take our own vehicles and meet them there.”
“Sergeant Shannon isn’t going to like that,” Randy responded. “He told me to get to the armory.”
“He’ll like it even less, if we don’t show up at all, so we’ll wait and go in a bit late. Then they’ll be gone, and we’ll have a reason for having to drive our own vehicles.”
“Okay, but what’s the point of taking our own cars?” asked Randy.
“I want us to be able to get back here as early as possible. This way, we’ll be able to skip going back to the armory. Oh, and I need you to pick me up. I can’t drive my truck.”
“Why? Is something wrong with it?”
“I’ll explain later. You’d better get on the road as soon as you can get dressed. I’ll see you when you get here. I’ll be waiting out front.”
“Okay, Herb. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
***
Herb called Sergeant Shannon back and explained that he and Randy would meet the unit at the bridge. “I’ve got a problem with my truck and Randy is coming to get me,” he told the sergeant, which was technically true. His problem was that the truck was loaded to the hilt with emergency supplies.
“Okay, Herb. That will be fine. I’ll get your rifles and meet you at the bridge. Listen, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. If I could spare you, I’d let you skip this deployment, but I just can’t spare anyone.”
Sergeant Shannon’s apology made Herb feel lousy, because of his plans to desert his post. He said, “Don’t worry about it, Sergeant Shannon. I understood you were just doing your job. I didn’t take it personally.”
“I’ll see you men at the bridge. You can park at the boat harbor on the causeway.”
“We’ll be there.”
As soon as he hung up the phone, Herb raced into his bedroom and changed into his uniform.
Outside the house, he took the time to feed and water Ox. The heavy animal pushed him back a step when he reared up and put his front paws on Herb’s chest in greeting while his tail wagged vigorously. Then he ate his food so quickly that Herb decided to feed him more. He wasn’t certain what time he would be back or even if he would be back at all today. Ox ate both cans of food.
Herb also left the outdoor water faucet dripping at a steady rate into a large bowl in order to replenish the dog’s water supply. Ox drank his fill from that bowl, so Herb was confident that the animal would return to it when he needed more. He also poured a large quantity of dry dog food in a separate bowl in the shade under the porch roof. That arrangement would protect the food from direct sunlight, which would draw all of the moisture out of the food.
“You’re a lot of trouble, boy, but I guess you’re worth it,” Herb said to the dog. “I want you to guard the house while I’m gone.”
Ox listened to the man speaking to him, and after only a brief pause, the animal lay down on the porch, assuming a position similar to the one he had taken during their shopping trip. Herb thought the animal understood what he wanted him to do.
Randy pulled up in his drive and Herb hurried over to the car and jumped inside. During the drive to Decatur, Herb told his friend about the call he had made to Sergeant Shannon.
“It sounds like you are having second thoughts,” Randy pointed out.
“I am. Don’t get me wrong. Leaving today would be the smartest thing to do, but I don’t like the idea of deserting the guys in our unit,” Herb explained.
“I know how you feel. I was thinking the same thing,” Randy confessed.
“Let’s play it by ear. If things get too bad, we can take another look at leaving,” Herb said, and then he frowned and added, “I wish I had known last night that we might change our minds. I damn near maxed out a credit card in Walmart last night.” He then proceeded to tell his friend about his late night shopping trip.
“So all of that stuff is in your truck, which is why you needed a ride,” Randy said, and then he nodded his head in understanding.
“Right. I told Sergeant Shannon I was having a problem with my truck, and that you were stopping by to pick me up.
They were still a couple of miles from the bridge when they began to see a lot of smoke in the air to their south. “Wow, that’s new,” Randy pointed out. “I mean, sure we have seen some smoke from fires, but nothing on this scale.”
“Yeah, it looks as if half the city might be burning,” Herb conceded.
The two men pulled into the boat harbor a few minutes later. As they exited Randy’s car, they heard the sound of weapons fire coming from the blockade.
“It sounds like things are heating up. We’d best get our butts in gear,” Herb stated.
The two friends got out of Randy’s car and hurried out to the road. They turned right and were soon passing over the bridge. As they jogged in the direction of the blockade, the gunfire there intensified, but it soon began to level off and became sporad
ic, long before they arrived.
Much to their surprise, Herb and Randy saw that their unit had not yet arrived. The Tennessee Guard Unit was manning the post. Some people in civilian clothing had joined them, and what those civilians were doing turned Herb’s stomach.
A large group of zombies had approached the blockade, as they had upon several occasions when Herb’s unit had manned the post. The Tennessee Guardsmen had reacted professionally, putting one bullet into the heads each of the zombies. Most of the civilians with them had opted to torment the creatures by shooting them in the arms, hands, legs and feet. One man was laughing and bragging about blowing off the thumb of one of his targets.
This wanton cruelty bothered Herb, who had struggled with the necessity to kill the zombies at the outset of his tour of duty on the bridge. He knew they were now lost to humanity, but the previous week, they would have been his fellow citizens of the state of Alabama.
“What the hell do you people think you’re doing?!” he yelled angrily. “Stop that shit, and I mean stop it right now!”
One of the men turned to face Herb with an angry scowl on his face. “I don’t take orders from you, soldier boy. I came out here to help you people. Not to listen to your lectures.”
“You heard what I said. If you don’t like it, then leave,” Herb demanded.
A couple more of the men in civilian clothes turned around to face Herb. “Didn’t you hear what my brother said?” asked one of the men. “You’ve got a big mouth for an unarmed man,” he added and casually pointed the muzzle of his rifle in Herb’s direction, although he didn’t aim at him.
“You don’t want to make a mistake here, son,” one of the Tennessee guardsmen interrupted the confrontation. Herb glanced in the man’s direction and saw that most of the Tennessee unit now had their rifles trained on the four civilians. “I have to agree with the Corporal. What you’re doing is wrong. None of those people asked to become what they are now. We have to kill them. They are a threat to everyone. But we don’t have to maim them for sport.”
“Let’s go, boys. We came up here to help these guys, but it looks like these ungrateful bastards are ready to turn on us,” one of the men said.
“You’ll want to put that rifle down first,” the Tennessee man who had sided with Herb stated. Herb and Randy noticed that the Tennesseans still had their weapons pointed at the men. “That’s Guard property.”
The man placed the M4 down on the ground along with a large pouch filled with spare magazines. “You guys have the upper hand here. I hope I see you again one day. We’ll see who holds the upper hand then,” he said as he glared at the guardsmen.
“Get moving, tough guy,” Herb said angrily.
When the civilians were out of earshot, the Tennessee guardsman who had done the talking said, “Where’s the rest of your unit, Corporal?”
“That’s a good question. We were running late, so I made arrangements to meet them here,” Herb explained.
“They were supposed to relieve us half an hour ago,” the Tennessean explained.
Herb’s cell phone rang. He recognized the number as belonging to Sergeant Shannon. “That’s our sergeant calling now,” he explained, and then he took the call.
“Corporal Bennett, where are you now?” Sergeant Shannon asked.
“We’re at the bridge waiting for you,” Herb replied.
“Are the Tennessee guys still there?” asked Sergeant Shannon.
“Yes, they’re standing beside us.”
“Get their commanding officer to the phone. It’s important.”
“Okay, give me a minute,” Herb replied. Turning to the Tennessee unit, he added, “Sergeant Shannon wants to speak to your C.O.”
“He left to return to Nashville two hours ago,” responded the Tennessee Sergeant who had backed Herb during the confrontation with the civilians earlier. “He left me in charge.”
“You must be who the Sergeant wants to talk to then.”
The man identified himself to Sergeant Shannon who said, “Sergeant Webber, your unit is being recalled to Nashville. There has been an outbreak there. It’s a bad one. There have been numerous fatalities, and the Tennessee Governor has called up all Guard units in the state.”
“What about the bridge here?” Sergeant Webber asked.
“Our C.O. says there isn’t any point in trying to hold it. We’ve got reports of outbreaks all over North Alabama. The battle for Decatur is lost. Tell my two men we are pulling back to the armory, and they should leave as you do.”
Sergeant Webber relayed the message to Herb and instructed his men to prepare to leave.
“We’ve got company coming!” one of the Tennessee guardsmen yelled. He punctuated his warning with a shot to the head of a male zombie that was taller than most of the others around him. This group of zombies was older than the others that the guardsmen had seen. Their parasites had been given the time needed to establish better control of their hosts’ mobility, which was the reason they were capable of running.
The rest of the Tennessee unit added their weapons fire to the fray. Sergeant Webber tossed Herb his phone, and then pointed to the M4 on the ground near him. That was all the time he had to spare, because the zombies were closing on their position fast.
Herb scooped up the rifle and magazine pouch that the civilian had left behind and joined in the defense of the blockade.
The guardsmen on the southbound bridge continued to pour fire into the dozens of zombies who were rushing their position. The six man team was hard pressed to stop them before they reached their position. The team on the northbound bridge wasn’t under attack. If they hadn’t added their fire support to the beleaguered blockade, there was a very real danger that the guardsmen would have been overrun by the fast moving zombies.
When the last zombie in the attack fell to Sergeant Webber’s well-placed shot, the noncom ordered two team members to stand guard while the rest packed up and loaded their gear. Herb looked out over the barricade at the bodies of the dead zombies. The morning breeze blew in Herb’s face, bringing with it the putrid smell of the dead.
When they pulled out, they left the barricades in place. Herb and Randy rode in the back of one of the trucks, which stopped at the boat harbor to drop them off. The Tennesseans waited to ensure that Randy’s vehicle started. The two men followed the convoy from both bridges back to Athens.
Randy pulled over at a service station to buy fuel for his car. “What do we do now?” he asked Herb as he was pumping his gas.
“If we go to the armory, there’s no telling where we may end up,” Herb said. “The zombies will be able to walk to Athens tonight, if they wanted to, but it would probably take them longer. There will be a lot of people between the bridge and Athens. If they attack everyone they see, as they seemed to do in Decatur, then I imagine it could take as much as a couple of days before the main spread reaches town.”
“The Baxters should be safe. At least I hope so, after everything we went through to rescue them,” Randy said.
“So do I. If they stay on the farm, they may escape notice. They were pretty far off the highway.”
The sound of multiple sirens filled the air, causing the two friends to halt their conversation and stare as half a dozen police squad cars raced past. When the noise level dropped in the wake of their passage, Herb noticed that his phone was ringing. It was Sergeant Shannon again. “Corporal, we are being deployed for a mission in Athens. How far are you from the armory?”
Put on the spot before the two of them had made concrete plans, Herb answered honestly, “We’re getting some gas at the Chevron on Highway 31 in Athens. Randy’s car was running on fumes.”
“Okay, we are about to leave the armory. We’ll have to pass you, so fall in behind us as we do,” Sergeant Shannon said, and then he hung up.
Sergeant Shannon had been speaking with such intensity that Randy heard both sides of the conversation. He ran inside to pay for the purchase. He had no time to wait in line, so he ste
pped up to the counter beside a customer and tossed enough money on the counter to cover the fuel. “Sorry, we’ve got an emergency,” he said, and then he darted back outside and ran to his car.
His National Guard Unit was rolling past as he slid under the wheel.
“Let’s roll!” shouted Herb, who by now was caught up in the excitement and felt a sense of urgency.
Randy burned rubber getting out of the parking lot and falling in behind his unit, which was traveling south on Highway 31. He heard the sound of screaming tires behind him and punched his gas pedal to make way for the vehicle that was trying to avoid hitting them.
“Where are we going?” Randy asked as he concentrated on closing the gap between his car and the rest of the unit. He had to push their speed even higher in order to avoid being stopped by a traffic signal. Even then, they blew through the light seconds after it had turned red.
“I have no idea,” Herb answered.
Randy backed off the speed as he drew closer to the last truck in the convoy. He hit his brakes when he saw the other vehicles slowing and giving a right turn signal. “Looks like we are going to Walmart,” Herb said as he craned his neck to the right so that he could see around the side of the truck.
When they turned into the parking lot, they followed their unit as they turned to the right and parked in the middle of the employee parking section. The two friends bailed out of Randy’s car and ran over to the rest of the unit, which was assembling beside their vehicles.
“Grab your gear out of the back of that truck,” Sergeant Shannon said without preamble when the men joined the other guardsmen. As they did so, they heard him say, “All right, listen up, men. I’m going to tell you all that I know, which isn’t much.” The NCO was interrupted as Herb and Randy stepped into formation with their rifles slung over their shoulders. They finished equipping the rest of their gear as Sergeant Shannon said, “Several employees were attacked by zombies that entered a back door when a guy opened it. As of a few minutes ago, they were still inside the employee section, but that may have changed. The police are here to protect the shoppers and get them out of the store. Our job is to locate the zombies and terminate them. We’re splitting into two groups. Corporal Bennett, you’ll take one team and enter the back. I’ll take the other team and we’ll go in the front. Any questions?”