Dying Days 8

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Dying Days 8 Page 12

by Armand Rosamilia


  The men around him seemed restless.

  “We sit and we wait for backup,” Terry said. “If this fight ends so be it. This isn’t our fight yet.”

  No one seemed willing to stand and get shot, which was fine with Terry. The best that could happen would be everyone killing each other and leaving Terry to walk calmly across the bridge and down the street to The Promised Land.

  Terry heard vehicles stop in the distance, engines turned off. The backup had arrived and it looked like it was just in time.

  The shooting had begun and blood was going to be spilled while they sat this one out.

  “I thought you’d never get here,” Terry said as Mister Borden walked up and put a hand out to shake.

  Mister Borden gripped Terry’s hand so tightly Terry thought the bones were going to be crushed. Mister Borden pulled Terry closer.

  “You forget I can read thoughts, even from a distance. Even if I couldn’t, I know what kind of scumbag you are, Terry. Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. I will need you to control the remaining population of whatever shakes out here. I’d like nothing better than for it to be you… but not if you think you’re going to do to me what they did to their former leader. Do you hear me?” Mister Borden asked.

  “Loud and clear,” Terry said. He was groaning in pain.

  Mister Borden grinned and released Terry’s hand.

  As Terry shook his hand and tried to get feeling back into his fingers, hoping nothing was permanently damaged, he turned away so no one could see the tears and pain in his eyes.

  “From my vantage point, I see we’re front row for a war.” Mister Borden patted Terry on the back. “You did well staying out of it, Terry. Great job.”

  Terry turned to see what was likely everyone old enough to hold a weapon from the Home Depot standing around, waiting for direction.

  “From what Terry has told me, there is a group of marauders trying to take over what they call The Promised Land, where Terry was previously from. This will become a siege unless they can find their way over the walls. Many will die. Many will flee. We’ll hold back and see how this plays out. I say we set up a camp half a mile away and set up our own perimeter. We’ll monitor the situation,” Mister Borden said. He got closer to Terry again. “You’ll coordinate the watch. We don’t want anyone winning on either side unless we’re ready. The best that could happen would be everyone killing each other and leaving you to walk calmly across the bridge and down the street to The Promised Land.”

  Terry shuddered. It was exactly what he’d been thinking a minute before Mister Borden showed up. The man could read thoughts even when Terry thought he was blocking them or trying to think of other things.

  Maybe Mister Borden was even more powerful than The Lich Lord, which would mean everyone was eventually going to be fucked.

  Mister Borden was smiling at Terry.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Tosha ducked when the bullets started to fly in their direction. She was smiling.

  “You killed the leader and his woman. Nice shot,” Mitch said.

  Jada was staring at Tosha. She didn’t look impressed.

  “I say we retreat before we get our asses handed to us. We’ll double back around a block or two and strike from that angle. No sense getting killed, especially so outnumbered. Give us cover fire,” Tosha said to two men crouched nearby.

  Tosha was up and running and having a great time. She’d missed facing people who wanted to shoot back at her. When was the last time it had happened? St. Augustine? All the way back to the start in Pennsylvania. When the zombies had been present but not the worst thing she’d had to overcome.

  People were the real monsters. Tosha knew it. Everyone knew it. At least the fucking zombies had an excuse. They’d been bitten and couldn’t control it. The assholes shooting at her now had a choice to be nice to others and they’d chosen to be motherfuckers.

  Tosha got to the side of the next building and threw herself flat against it because she heard someone crashing through the debris and rubble.

  She ducked down and slid out and fired, hitting a man in the gut.

  There was at least a dozen more right behind him.

  Jada and Mitch were now on either side of her firing.

  As the rest of their team spread out and fired, they wiped out the other side with ease.

  Tosha was glad to see they hadn’t lost a man yet.

  “We’ll keep moving to our left now. Battle street to street. Draw them away from the bridge if possible. If not, we keep hindering them from the rear,” Tosha said and took off again. She loved the adrenaline rush of stopping to kill before moving to the next building to see who was hiding there.

  It was like a video game; one she and her twin had played a million times. It didn’t matter what the name of it was. First-person shooters were all the same to her. Awesome.

  A burst of automatic fire dropped Tosha to her knees. She didn’t think she’d been hit but she’d landed hard on the ground and knew she’d have a nice bruise on her hip in the morning. She ran her fingers through her hair, wishing she had something to tie it back with. The little things you missed nowadays.

  Mitch took a step to his right and fired twice. “Got him. You need a hand?”

  Tosha didn’t but she decided to mess with Mitch anyway, grinning and putting her hand out.

  Mitch helped her to her feet, and she made sure her tits rubbed against his arm before walking away.

  If Tosha was going to die, she’d do it having a little fun at a guy’s expense.

  Jada was already half a block away, taking point without being asked. Tosha thought, under most circumstances, she’d hate the woman and think she was a rival. Even with the massive scar on her cheek she was still exotic and attractive.

  Just as two men came into view, Jada shot and killed both.

  Tosha was impressed she hadn’t stopped at all, keeping her movements flowing as Jada continued forward.

  Shots rang out behind them and Tosha cursed under her breath. No one was watching their backs? That seemed like common sense but she guessed some people didn’t have any. It was amazing how certain people had survived this long.

  “I got it. Idiots,” Mitch said, as if he’d read her mind.

  Two men had gotten behind them and were behind a crumbling building taking shots at their rear.

  Mitch dropped to one knee behind the bumper of a rusting car and aimed.

  Tosha smiled as his first shot hit a man just as he leaned forward to fire. It took the left side of his face off.

  The other man leaned forward a couple of inches before moving back, using the wall as cover.

  Mitch adjusted his aim imperceptibly and fired.

  Tosha heard the man scream before falling to the ground. Mitch had placed a bullet inside a crack in the wall.

  “Go collect their weapons and ammo,” Mitch yelled to a man nearby. “And for fuck sake, watch our asses.”

  Mitch ran back to Tosha, shaking his head. “Do you know what the game plan is yet?”

  “I didn’t know we needed one. Shoot the enemy seems to be working,” Tosha said.

  “We need to get back across the river. Do you have any boats stashed?” Mitch asked.

  Tosha nodded. “Right around where we landed the other night. I have two but they won’t fit all of us. Plus, on the water, we’d be exposed if anyone was nearby watching. It’s too risky.”

  “We can’t stay behind enemy lines too long. At some point, they’re going to realize they’ll never get over the bridge and start to hunt us. There are too many of them and I have a feeling more were hiding, waiting to get called in for an attack. We might stumble upon a building filled with fifty armed men,” Mitch said.

  “Then we blow up the fucking building. Stop being such a pussy and help me kill people,” Tosha said. She took off after Jada, running faster than she normally would to get some distance between her and Mitch.

  He was probably right. This was a suicide mis
sion. There was no way they could kill everyone in their way. Besides the odds firmly not in their favor, they would run out of ammo soon enough.

  Until then, Tosha vowed to keep taking the fight to them. With any luck, they could take out some of their shooters and gather their weapons and bullets. It would keep them in the fight a little longer.

  Moving in and out of these side streets was helping but she knew some of the group wasn’t as proficient as Mitch or Jada. They’d slowly slip behind and get shot.

  Tosha knew she was being callous but their deaths might save the important people right now. The longer they could stay alive and harass the enemy the better chance The Promised Land had of surviving this assault.

  She wasn’t going to risk her neck for anyone who couldn’t keep up and she knew Jada was thinking the same thing.

  Mitch was too nice of a guy to keep going if anyone got caught. He’d try to rescue everyone. Tosha had no interest in that.

  Jada had stopped ahead and shot three times, hitting all of her targets.

  If they could keep going, Tosha was sure, between her, Mitch and Jada, they could take down everyone they faced.

  But they’d run out of ammo before that happened.

  When twenty well-armed people poured from her left between two buildings, Tosha sighed and turned to engage the enemy.

  She’d lost count of how many shots she had left.

  Chapter Thirty

  As far as she could tell, everyone but the group on the bridge and Tosha were back inside the gates of Main Street. For now it would need to be enough for Bernie and she’d need to concentrate on the daunting task before her.

  Keep everyone safe and alive while a large force of animalistic bastards surrounded them, throwing themselves at the walls with abandon.

  Profit was at her side, standing on the wall and watching as A1A filled with armed marauders.

  “They’re coming right at us. Crazy people,” he said. Profit shook his head. “It’s like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  Bernie agreed but she knew they’d run out of ammo before all of them were killed.

  “We need to somehow conserve the ammo. Find another way to kill them. At some point, they’ll be able to breach the wall with sheer numbers and take us out,” Profit said.

  “We’re already down because of The Lich Lord and then the zombie attack. Once we run out of ammo, we’ll need to make sure someone in each section can still fight,” Bernie said.

  Profit tapped his chin with a finger. “Do we have swords or baseball bats?”

  “I’m sure quite a few people do. Why?”

  “We’re wasting ammo. These idiots are running right at us. Why don’t we create a choke-point just inside the gate? Let them come at us one at a time. We could take them out with blades and lumber,” Profit said.

  “It will take too long.”

  Profit shook his head. “This is going to take longer and we’ll run out of ammo quicker. Trust me. I can make this work.”

  “And what if they’re armed with pistols and rifles?”

  Profit pointed to where they were standing. “We shoot those with automatic weapons from this perch. Anyone not carrying a weapon or with their own bat we let through.”

  Bernie looked out at the mass of people storming the gates. She guessed half of them didn’t have a weapon you needed ammo for. Most of them had bats and large sticks. She could see a couple of hockey sticks.

  Some of them weren’t even armed. They looked like wild animals as they ran forward into certain death.

  Bernie knew if any of these berserkers got onto Main Street they’d create chaos and panic.

  “Hurry up. Do what you have to do. I want you to lead this,” Bernie said.

  “You got it, boss. Big Man will help me. No one is going to get past that huge sonofabitch unless they have a cheeseburger.” Profit climbed off of the wall.

  Bernie raised her rifle and took her time selecting a target that had a weapon and looked like they might be trying to use it.

  This is like facing a zombie horde again, she thought. They’re just rushing at us like they don’t care. Most of them with weapons aren’t even using it. They’re growling and banging against the gates instead of taking cover and aiming.

  There weren’t too many return shots being fired from the other side but Bernie knew they would beat them in numbers.

  “Stop shooting at anyone without a gun,” Bernie yelled. “Pass it on.”

  She guessed there were about a hundred charging the gate, all focused on trying to bash it in.

  What was bothering Bernie was the shadowy figures across the street and out of range of a clean shot.

  Bernie lifted the rifle and used the scope to get a better look. She didn’t like what she saw.

  There were maybe two dozen men and women, all heavily armed, just watching the battle. A couple of them had machine guns and most had either Kevlar vests or riot helmets.

  They were waiting for the battle to turn. Either the crazies they’d sent ahead would blow open the gates or the survivors inside would run out of ammo.

  This suddenly wasn’t as chaotic and disorganized as she’d thought.

  Profit was as good as his word, waving at Bernie from the gates and giving a thumb up when she waved back. She nodded.

  He had a dozen men armed with bats and sharp weapons.

  They’d managed to pull two of the buses to either side of the gate so when it swung in it would create a funnel for people to get inside.

  Two men with rifles were on the roof of either bus.

  Profit gave the signal and the gates were unlocked. The mass of bodies against it opened it immediately, and the savages poured inside.

  Bernie remembered her father reading all the time when she was a little girl. He’d been fascinated by pulp fiction and weird tales and he’d once read her a story about a frontier stockade outpost trying to keep the local savages at bay. It was called… she couldn’t remember but it had a black river somehow connected.

  The hero had had to battle innumerable Picts. She always remembered the name of the savages and it was in their land the battle took place.

  Foreigners had come to claim what wasn’t their property.

  Bernie looked back across the street and saw the group watching the battle had faded away. She knew they were devising a counterattack.

  Hopefully Profit can thin their ranks before the next surprise is upon us, Bernie thought.

  With no one shooting back at them, Bernie and the others on the wall could only stand around and watch the carnage below.

  A few men walked over to get a closer look and Bernie yelled for everyone to hold their positions. She couldn’t believe everyone was so easily distracted because everyone below didn’t seem to be a threat.

  She glanced back over the wall but there was only a crowd of savages trying to push their way through to get to Profit and his men.

  The area on both sides of the gate was slick with blood. Bodies were beginning to pile up. In their haste to get into the fight, the marauders were tripping over their fallen comrades. Most times they were easy pickings for her men, who stabbed them in the back and left them to the growing pile.

  At this rate they’ll be dead within the hour, Bernie thought. As long as her men could keep up the pace and there were enough of them to keep moving in and out of the fight, they’d clear the area.

  “Should we go down and relieve them? Some of the guys look tired,” a man next to Bernie said, and she could see he was itching to get into the action.

  Bernie didn’t know if pulling people off the wall and losing strength with the height advantage was a smart move. She wished Tosha was here to guide the fighting. She was definitely more experienced than Bernie was.

  “Maybe switch out with the few in the back but then I want an equal switch so we always have people on the wall,” Bernie said. She thought it was a safe plan.

  “More of them,” someone yelled and Bernie turned to see the group
who’d been previously watching.

  Now they aimed rifles, machine guns and one even had a bazooka.

  The first dozen shots rang out at once and hit their mark.

  Men and women, a second ago standing and looking bored, were knocked off the wall and pitched to the ground below.

  Bernie ducked and missed getting her head blown off.

  She peeked through a slit in the wall and frowned.

  With their ranks dwindling below, a group of maybe twenty more with machine guns and large-caliber weapons stepped up and began a new assault.

  Bernie looked down at Profit, who was covered in blood and taking a break, as someone else stepped into his spot.

  “Do they have machine guns now?” Profit asked.

  Bernie nodded her head and ducked down further as bullets punched holes in the wall, narrowly missing her head.

  “Drive them back and close the gate,” Profit yelled. “Anyone with a rifle needs to get back on the damn wall, too. We’ve got a bigger problem now.”

  Chapter Thirty One

  April and Carlie walked the wall in their section, smiling at the men and women ready to fight. Everyone was frightened but April decided she needed to be the calming presence or they were screwed.

  She’d fucked up already and gotten people killed and she wasn’t going to do it again.

  “We’re low on ammo. Don’t shoot unless you’re absolutely sure you can hit them. They might also be low on ammo. We don’t know yet,” April said.

  “Don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes,” Carlie added with a laugh.

  That comment broke the ice and put a few people at ease, which April was thankful for.

  They had been sent to the westernmost section of Main Street, where a short bridge had once connected it to what was called City Island before the apocalypse.

 

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