by Jon Schafer
Even though they had the people in the truck outgunned, Steve knew he and his group were vulnerable out in the open. Turning to look, he could see Linda and Igor edging Cindy toward the airplane. Not the best of cover, but it was the only game in town. He knew that no one on his side was going to open fire unless attacked, so it all depended on what the man in the cab of the truck chose to do.
***
Jimmy watched with interest as what had started off as robbery, rape and murder turned into a Mexican standoff. He had felt sorry for the people in the airplane when the truck rolled up and the men in back drew down on them, but now it looked like they were holding their own. They had even gotten the bad guys to lower their guns.
Reconsidering his initial assessment of their character now that he had a chance to compare them side by side with a real gang, he realized that they didn’t appear to be the usual sort of riff-raff that roamed the country preying on their fellow man. They were clean looking, well-armed, had women and a little girl with them, and on top of that they had arrived in an airplane. Most of the roving gangs on the road today were lucky to find enough fuel to make it from point A to point B and then have enough ammo to raid point B. They were made up mostly of men, and he had never heard of any of them having children with them.
Looking down the length of the truck, Jimmy watched the driver’s side door of the cab slowly open and a man cautiously climb out. Reaching inside, he pulled out a scope-equipped rifle and crouched down next to the gas tank. He could see him clearly from his vantage point, but he knew there was no way the people from the airplane could.
When everyone had put up their guns, Jimmy thought it was over, but it looked like the bad guys were going to try an ambush.
Looking back over his shoulder at the nearby woods, he knew that with everyone’s attention on each other, he could easily slip away. His mind screamed out to him that this was someone else’s battle and that all he was trying to do was get home to Louisiana and find his family. With this thought in his head, he lifted his body to slide backwards and make his escape.
Before his chest lost contact with the metal floor of the cockpit, though, his heart took over for his brain and he reached up to unlatch the cockpit door in front of him.
***
Heather caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head slightly, she could see the door of the abandoned helicopter open slightly and the barrel of a rifle poke out. Her body started to react and bring her CAR-15 up, but she stopped when she saw the weapon wasn’t pointed at them. Its angle was all wrong. The door would have to be opened fully before it could be brought to bear on them.
Despite catching her reaction in time, she still gave a visible twitch. This motion caused the men in the truck to raise their rifles and pistols before also checking themselves. A ripple went through both sides as they all flinched before slowly moving back to positions of readiness. None of them went as far as to actually point their weapons at anyone, but it was close.
Glancing back toward the helicopter, Heather judged the angle of the rifle barrel and determined it was aimed at the far side of the truck. Wondering who their anonymous ally was, she also wondered what he was aiming at. Looking under the truck, she could see the shadow of someone moving on the other side of it. Shifting her position slightly to the right, she could see a small section of color between the cab and the bed. Squinting, she could see it was faded yellow cloth. Someone wearing a T-shirt.
In a voice only loud enough for Steve to hear, she said, “Get ready, Babe, because it’s about to be on like Donkey Kong.”
***
Steve felt his body tense at Heather’s warning. Although it seemed like the situation was being slowly defused, he trusted her judgment. Not seeing a clear shot at anything in the cab of the truck, he picked out his first two targets from the men in the bed and waited.
***
Jimmy sighted in on the head of the sniper and slowly squeezed the trigger of his rifle, its report almost deafening him in the confines of the cockpit when it fired. With ringing ears, he shifted his aim to the men in the back of the truck and opened up with three-round bursts until his magazine ran out of bullets.
***
Despite knowing something was coming, Steve still jumped when the shot rang out. Recovering in milliseconds, he brought his M4 up as his body crouched to present less of a target. Knowing if he sprayed the back of the truck with bullets that his chances of hitting something were greatly reduced, he forced himself to slow down and fire well aimed, three-round bursts into the heads of his enemies.
As he switched from his first target to his second, the thought came to him that he should be aiming for center mass to increase his chances of hitting something. Having dealt with the dead for so long, though, his initial reaction was to aim for the head.
Switching to a third target, Steve didn’t even get the chance to pull the trigger, watching as the man’s chest blossomed red from someone else’s bullets. Not seeing any other immediate threats in the bed of the truck, he turned his rifle on its cab. He couldn’t see anyone inside, but this didn’t stop him from emptying the remains of his magazine into it. After extracting it and inserting a new one, he jumped up into a half-crouch and moved forward.
As he approached the truck, he could see that while the brigands appeared ready for a gunfight, they weren’t prepared for the automatic weapons fire that tore into them. Hearing screams of, “I give, I give,” and, “We surrender,” he knew that the fight was over.
Not wanting to lose the shock brought on by their assault, Steve started screaming, “Drop your guns and get out! Put them down and get out now, or we’ll kill you!”
No one moved, so he fired a three-round burst into the air to punctuate his demand.
Two men jumped up and literally threw themselves over the rear gate of the truck before dropping spread eagle on the ground. Heather moved up to cover them while Steve kept an eye out for any kind of ambush. He doubted they were organized enough to plan something complex like drawing their attention by having a couple of them surrender while the rest of them popped up to gun them down, but anyone still alive in the back of the truck might take advantage of the situation.
“Everyone out!” Steve screamed as he fired a burst from his M4 into the rear of the cab, shattering the glass in its back window.
One of the men on the ground screamed, “There’s no one else. You killed everyone.”
Pointing to the abandoned helicopter, Heather said, “That’s where the first shot came from.”
Steve spun, raising his rifle as Heather said, “They weren’t shooting at us, they shot at these scumbags. I don’t know who it was, but I think they’re on our side.”
Steve motioned toward the helicopter with his rifle and called out loud enough to be heard by everyone, “Keep the chopper covered, I’m checking the truck.” He didn’t know if anyone besides Heather was alive to hear him, but it was a moot point to check on them until the area was clear. One of the bandits was in his way, so he stepped over the prone men and cautiously looked in.
Candy wrappers, assorted garbage and sheets of cardboard littered its floor, along with seven bodies. Bloody and torn, they gave proof to the accuracy of his group’s aim. Hearing a gurgling moan, Steve saw a hand rise up in supplication. Following it down to the body it was attached to, he saw blood pouring from wounds in the man’s chest and stomach. Doing the only thing he could for him, he fired once into his head. Moving around to the far side of the truck, he saw a body lying on the ground. Keeping it covered as he approached, he nudged it with the toe of his boot, stepping back when the top of its head came off.
No threat there, he told himself as he moved to the cab. The driver’s door was ajar, so he eased it open with the barrel of his M4 before looking in. Riddled with bullet holes, it was empty.
With the threat gone, Steve quickly rounded the front of the truck and turned his attention to his people.
Fear tore through him
when he saw Linda and Igor lying on the ground, with Pep running around them in circles. Starting to move forward, he called their names in panic. Not seeing Cindy, his fear turned into a full-blown panic. Calling out again, he was relieved when he saw Igor raise a hand and give him a thumbs up. Looking closer, he realized that Cindy’s two bodyguards had thrown themselves in front of her to keep her safe.
Looking toward the hatch of the airplane, he saw Connie and Stacey emerge with their weapons at the ready. Connie looked at the bullet-riddled truck with wide eyes while Stacey took one look at the bullet holes in her plane and started cursing. From behind the front landing gear, Brain emerged and headed toward the helicopter at a fast trot, his M4 tacking back and forth along its length as he searched for threats. Reaching it, he leaned against the fuselage and sidled up to the now closed door. Bobbing his head forward and back, he took a quick look inside. Turning, he called out, “All clear. Whoever was in it took off.”
Searching the tree line for any movement, Steve saw nothing. The phantom sniper was gone. Turning back to survey the area, he noticed that Igor and Linda were still covering Cindy with their bodies. The encounter had been short and murderous, but they had all made it through alive. Now it was time to get the hell out of Dodge City.
“It’s all clear,” he called out to Igor. “You can get up now.”
Igor lifted his hand and moved it back and forth.
At first thinking he was giving him an okay, it suddenly dawned on Steve that he was waving him over. Looking closely, he saw two pools of blood coming from where Igor lay in a tangle with Linda. Reaching them in seconds, he saw Igor’s leg bent at an unnatural angle. Looking closely, he saw a nasty exit wound in the back of his leg. Calling for the medical bag, he found it being handed to him by Heather.
“Looks like a shattered femur,” he told her as she moved to check on Linda. Hearing a gasp, he turned to where she was looking in shock at the shattered remains of the woman’s head.
In a strained voice, Igor said, “We both fired as we pulled Cindy down and got in front of her. There were bullets ricocheting everywhere. I laid on my side and kept shooting. Then it felt like someone hit me in the leg with a ball bat. I looked down and saw a bullet had gone through my thigh and hit Linda. Nothing I could do for her, so I kept shooting until there was no one left to shoot at.”
Pressing a bandage against the leg wound to stem the flow of blood, Steve looked up to check on Cindy, feeling his heart stop when he saw Heather pick up a small, limp, blood-splattered form.
Seeing the look of horror on his face, Heather said, “It’s not her blood. She didn’t get hit. It’s Linda’s blood. She’s in shock.” Turning, she yelled, “Someone grab my sleeping bag.”
Laying Cindy down, Heather lifted her legs to elevate them. Connie showed up seconds later and spread the sleeping bag over the little girl before asking what else she could do.
“Talk to her,” Heather said.
Connie’s heart went out to Cindy as she knelt next to her, holding her hands and telling her that everything would be okay. The poor kid had lost so many people that there was no way she would make it through this unscarred.
Steve tightened the bandage on Igor’s leg and leaned back. The man wasn’t going to bleed to death, but there was no way they could move him very far. Looking to where Cindy lay, he would times that by two. Knowing the gunfire would attract every Z for miles, he considered the buildings that made up the airport. They needed something they could defend with only a few people.
Finally deciding on what looked like a small maintenance shed, he was about to give the order to move when he heard Brain call out, “Two more trucks coming in.”
Spinning around, Steve studied the approaching vehicles, his mind spinning with how they were going to kill everyone in them. Looking over to where their two prisoners lay spread eagle on the concrete, he considered using them as hostages. Discarding this, as the bandits wouldn’t care about their lives, he decided to use them as human shields.
It might be barbaric, he thought, but I was planning on executing them anyway. They might be scumbags in life, but they would prove useful in death.
Scanning the immediate area for cover, he saw there were only two possibilities. Deciding quickly that they would put Cindy inside the plane with Igor and Stacey at the hatch, he looked to where he would position the rest of them in a defensive position behind the truck.
Looking again at the approaching vehicles, he started counting the number of men in the back of the trucks. He had only gotten to three when he suddenly stopped. Dressed in full military regalia, they were the exact opposite of the brigands he and his people had just dealt justice to.
Turning to where Heather stood next to him with her CAR-15 held at the ready, he said, “Relax, Babe. They may be a day late and a dollar short, but the cavalry just showed up.”
***
Jimmy watched from the woods until he saw the two trucks from the base arrive. Turning to look in the direction he planned to travel, he let out a deep sigh at the thought of the distance he needed to cover. It was hundreds of miles across a hostile landscape, but knowing he was heading home made it more than worth the dangers he would face.
Whispering to himself, “Confucius say that the journey of a thousand miles starts with a busted radiator hose,” he took his first step.
CHAPTER NINTEEN
Fort Redoubt:
Exhausted, Tick-Tock slid down from where he had been sitting on the back of the pickup truck before closing the tailgate and leaning against it. Studying the frenzied activity around the front of the fort, he focused on the people making ammunition for the porcupine. Just back from an ambush on the horde of approaching dead, he wanted to call out to them that there weren’t enough darts in the world to stem the coming tide of Zs.
Turning his attention to the walls of the fort, he considered whether or not they would hold. He wasn’t an engineer, but he doubted they would stand for more than a few hours. On his first patrol, they had circled around to the rear of the herd to try and draw them off to the west and he had seen firsthand how different types of structures held up against the dead.
It was simple, he thought, if the Zs wanted to get inside something, they got in. With their crushing weight of numbers, they literally flattened everything in their path. Not everything, he reminded himself. Just the buildings that held the living. It didn’t matter if they were made out of poured concrete or steel, after the dead hit them, they looked like someone had run them over with a bulldozer.
Deciding he had just enough time to stop in and visit Denise before he went out again, his plans were interrupted by Rick Styles calling out from the gate, “Hey, Tick-Tock, we just got the latest info from the recon teams, so we need all the platoon commanders in the mess hall for a meeting.” After waving for him to hurry and calling, “Come on,” he disappeared inside the fort.
Running after him, Tick-Tock hoped he could get the low down and skip the meeting so he could visit Denise before going out again. If there was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was to waste time on a meeting.
Catching the commander halfway across the courtyard, he asked, “How bad is it?”
“Not as bad as it could be,” Rick answered. “If aliens landed right now, it would really suck.”
Tick-Tock smiled and said, “So what you’re saying is that we only have to worry about being turned into a meat sandwich instead of being vaporized by a Martian death ray.”
“You got it,” Rick told him. “Always look on the bright side.”
Entering the mess hall, Tick-Tock didn’t recognize any of the thirty or forty men and women gathered there. Feeling slightly self-conscious, he wished he were back with his own people. He had been given command of two platoons earlier in the day, and he knew this was where he belonged. Meetings and planning sessions were great, but action was better. Of all the briefings he had attended when he was in the Marine Corps, most had been BS sessions with no real ai
m or purpose other than to tell you things you already knew.
Rick entered after him, causing everyone to come to attention. The Commander waved them to their seats as he said to Tick-Tock in a quiet voice, “Now you get to see my General Patton imitation.” After a second, he added, “Or maybe General Custer, in this situation.”
Tick-Tock smiled, thinking that it might not be that bad. Rick had a no-nonsense style about him that seemed to cut through the bullshit and get right to business.
Walking to a map of the area pinned to the wall, Rick said, “This is a brief overview of our situation. We have our backs to the lake, and we have a group of dead-asses coming at us from the southeast, and an even larger group coming at us from the west. We’ve had little to no success drawing them off or wiping them out due to their size. We circle around them and pick at them, but we can’t seem to turn them away from us. Our best guess is that the herds are so big that we can’t attract enough of them to turn them.
“Our estimates are that the group from the southeast will hit the two smaller forts in about two hours. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about this. Our recon teams put their numbers at about three to four thousand. We can hold against them with no problem and eventually wipe them out, but the problem is that the herd coming at us from the west has four times that number of dead in it. For those of you that have been on the back side of these dead-asses, you know that nothing can stand in front of them. Their outer edges are estimated to pass within a mile to the south of the fort in four hours. We expect scattered contact with smaller groups ahead of the main herd within an hour.”
Pointing to a secondary road on the map that led directly from Jasper to the compound, Rick went on, “What I propose is to draw the group from the southeast in and wipe them out. Right now, they’re moving directly at us cross-country. They’re pretty spread out, so what I want to do is lure them onto this road, where we can deal with them as a whole. We need to do it fast, though. We want them gone before the herd coming at us from the west has a chance to join up with them and follow them right to us.