The others looked out the door to the dirt road in the east that ran north and south. “Yesterday, we had stinkers coming across the field behind us and the closest road to our back was over a mile away,” Sandy added.
About to grab Johnathan’s wrist for the time, Sandy stopped and lifted her arm and looked at Johnathan’s watch he had given her. “We have three hours till dark,” she said, dropping her arm.
“As soon as the sun drops, we haul ass east,” Bill insisted, looking out and everyone startled when the music to the north stopped. Concentrating on the music to the south, Bill turned to Johnathan. “That’s further away than the music to the north.”
Nodding but not looking at Bill, Johnathan walked off to head to the east loft door. When he’d reached the back door, Johnathan looked at the trees a hundred yards away. “Shit,” he mumbled as the others moved behind him. Lifting his arm and pointing southeast, “That’s different music and it wasn’t playing before we headed to the other end of the loft,” he grumbled.
Bill turned to the wives, “Everything is loaded except for our packs?” he asked and they nodded.
“We need to haul ass,” Johnathan said, stepping back from the opening.
“Johnathan, the only reason they would turn the music off to the north is because stinkers have shown up. We haul ass now and we could run into a mob of stinkers. We can move at dusk and put some distance between us and whatever is going on here,” Bill told him.
“We can outrun stinkers,” Sandy said in a trembling voice.
“Not if it’s thousands converging on those sounds,” Bill insisted.
Giving a gasp, Johnathan stumbled back, panting hard. “We’re surrounded,” he said.
“Johnathan, we don’t know that,” Bill snapped.
Whipping his head to Bill, “The hell, we don’t,” Johnathan popped off. “We know stinkers are attracted to noise and we’ve had noise all around us.”
With an unconvinced face, Bill shook his head. “Johnathan, we are always surrounded by stinkers. Calm down.”
Turning to look at the west loft opening, “We are hearing more sound that way, so you and I will cover from there,” Johnathan said. “Mary and Sandy, cover the east.”
“You want me to use my bow from up here?” Sandy cried out in alarm. “It’s a hundred yards to the trees.”
Turning and looking at Sandy over his shoulder, “No, use your gun,” Johnathan said. “If too many stinkers show up, we will just have to risk it and leave. We can’t let them surround the barn.”
“Mary, Sandy, get the 10/22s,” Bill said, watching Johnathan. “The damn things can only kill a stinker out to a hundred yards, but we have lots of ammo for them now.”
“We don’t have many magazines for them,” Sandy reminded him.
“Each of you can shoot sixty times before reloading magazines,” Bill said.
“No, don’t reload,” Johnathan said. “You empty the magazines for the 10/22s, get on your ARs.”
Nodding, “I like that better,” Sandy said with Mary agreeing.
As Mary moved to the left side of the door, Sandy moved to the right. Leaving the wives to cover the east side, Bill and Johnathan moved to the west loft door to cover the front of the barn near the road. When they reached the door, they noticed the music to the south had stopped.
Looking down at his tool belt, Johnathan saw the six AR magazines in his left pouch. Bill had the same and the wives each had four spare AR magazines. Making a quick count with the magazines in the rifles, “We only have seven hundred and forty rounds in magazines for the ARs. More than that shows up, we are fucked,” Johnathan confessed.
“Dude, before we go through half of that we need to get the hell out of Dodge,” Bill said.
Looking at the packs in the center of the loft, “I’ll be back in a second,” Johnathan said, walking off. He brought his and Bill’s packs over, then took the wives packs to them. Then, he grabbed everyone’s bows and quivers and carried them downstairs.
When he came back up without the bows, Johnathan moved back to Bill. “Put our bows on the horses,” Johnathan said, stopping and snapping his head to the north.
“Yeah, the music just cranked back up,” Bill mumbled, gripping his AR.
“That is much closer than before,” Johnathan whispered as Bill moved to lean out the doorway. Grabbing Bill and stopping him. “Breathe through your nose,” Johnathan said softly.
“I know, I smell them,” Bill said. “I just want to know if I can see them.”
“If you can see them, then they can see you,” Johnathan said as Mary ran up to them.
“The music to the east is getting closer,” she said, panting in fear.
“You’re sure?” Bill asked.
Nodding vigorously, “Sandy says the music is the Beatles and I have to agree with her,” Mary answered. “It’s not as close as that,” Mary added, motioning with her chin to the north.
Before either could answer, the music to the north stopped again. “Get back to Sandy and don’t forget to keep your empty magazines,” Johnathan told her, moving to the side of the doorway and looking south. The others moved to the side of the door like Johnathan, so they couldn’t be seen easily from outside.
Patting a feed bag on her hip that all of them wore for a dump bag, “I remember,” Mary assured him, then trotted off back to Sandy.
“Ann, go with Mary,” Bill commanded, looking down at the dogs and pointing at Mary. Ann spun around, darting after Mary. “Maybe we should’ve left,” Bill said, wiping his sweaty palm on his shirt.
“Not if I was being overly worried,” Johnathan objected. “Your arguments make perfect sense.”
Before Bill could answer, the music turned off to the south. They both just glanced at each other. Hearing a soft growl, both looked back at Dan who was looking out with his lips curled up exposing his teeth.
“Good boy,” Johnathan said, moving over and patting Dan on the back. “Quiet,” he commanded and Dan stopped growling but kept the snarl, staring outside.
Below them, they could hear the horses snorting and moving. “Are the horses tied up?” Bill asked.
Barely nodding, “Yeah,” Johnathan whispered, moving back beside the door and looking south. “Our horses are tied to the stalls and I tied everyone’s pack horse to their saddle.”
The trees surrounded the barn in a U with the barn at the base. But the trees on the sides thinned as they neared the road. Dropping down on his right knee, Bill looked to the north. Pulling out his binoculars, Bill lifted them up and felt a coldness grip his heart. “Movement to the north,” he softly mumbled.
Looking over and seeing Bill’s face breaking out in a cold sweat, Johnathan pulled out his binoculars and moved deeper into the barn, then up to Bill. Before the binoculars reached his eyes, Johnathan could see movement on the road in the small breaks of the foliage.
“Holy shit,” Johnathan gasped, looking through his binoculars. “How many do you think?”
“A few hundred easy,” Bill said, smacking and trying to wet his mouth. “Maybe a half mile away.”
Putting the lanyard for his binoculars around his neck, Johnathan moved back. “We lay low and let the damn things pass us by,” he said. “I’m going to tell the wives.”
As Johnathan ran back to tell the wives, Dan followed and Bill lowered his binoculars. Putting them up, he turned as Johnathan and Dan moved back to the other side of the door. “How is it back there?” Bill asked.
“The music is still farther away back there than it was before it stopped here,” Johnathan said, getting on his right knee. Looking to the south, Johnathan felt Dan move up beside him.
Below them, they heard the horses get quiet and stop moving around. “Damn horses are smart,” Bill muttered. “Even they know noise equals trouble.”
Both jumped, hearing the music start to the south much closer. “There is no way they don’t see the stinkers on the road,” Johnathan said, lifting his binoculars. Able to hear the words of the blaring
music, Johnathan looked for breaks in the foliage. Finding a small one, he zoomed in.
“Uh-oh,” Johnathan said, dropping the binoculars. “Group coming from the south and they look about as big as the one from the north.”
Calming his breathing as the music from the south was getting closer, Bill could now see the first of the stinkers on the road coming from the north. With their arms outstretched, they were trotting down the road heading south. “They see whoever is playing the music,” he said softly.
A four-wheeler suddenly popped out from behind the trees on the road from the south. Feeling an impending doom, Johnathan pulled his AR stock to his shoulder as the four-wheeler eased ahead toward the group from the north. “Company,” Johnathan said, resting his left elbow on his left thigh.
Bill glanced over and saw two people riding a big four-wheeler with a huge ghetto blaster on the back. When the driver jerked the handlebar and gunned the engine to head off the road toward them, Bill’s heart fluttered.
“Mother fucker,” Johnathan snarled, lifting his AR up and resting the crosshairs on the driver and flipping the safety off. Squeezing the trigger three times, Johnathan watched the bullets hit. The driver slumped over as the four-wheeler came out of the ditch and turned back to the road.
When he could see the passenger, Johnathan squeezed the trigger and watched the passenger jerk as the four-wheeler rolled to a stop on the road. Moving his crosshairs, Johnathan sighted in on the ghetto blaster and squeezed the trigger.
Watching through his scope, Johnathan saw the driver and passenger fall off as the bullet slammed into the radio. The blaring music shut off and they could hear the growls of the stinkers on the road a hundred yards away.
“Is any of your group coming here?” Johnathan asked, looking around with his scope.
“No, they are heading for the four-wheeler,” Bill said, hiding behind the corner and peeking out. “They were leading them to us.”
“Figured that out,” Johnathan growled, peeking out like Bill. Now, he was able to see the group from the north. Turning back to the four-wheeler, Johnathan saw the passenger trying to climb back on.
Seeing Johnathan lift his rifle, “Don’t shoot,” Bill said quietly. “They might trace the sound with the music off.”
Holding his aim on the passenger struggling to get on the four-wheeler, Johnathan sighed. The suppressors he and Bill had made were good, but no suppressor took the sonic crack of a normal 5.56 bullet away. “He’s not going to make it,” Johnathan said as the first ones from the north closed in.
When the passenger finally got his leg over the seat, the first stinkers reached him and pulled him off. Even over the growls, they heard the man screaming as the stinkers torn him apart. “Go tell the wives fast, I’m sure the music from the south is leading the stinkers here. Tell them to shoot the riders and destroy the music,” Johnathan said, seeing the last of the north group at the trees.
Moving further back away from the door, Bill ran to the other end as Johnathan saw the south group reach the four-wheeler. Just guessing at the now two groups merging into one, Johnathan was sure it was close to three to four hundred.
“The music stopped to the south,” Bill said, running back and moving to his corner. Not looking at the throng of stinkers, Bill looked north. “Want to make a break?”
“Can’t now,” Johnathan said, scanning around. “We know they are hostile and like you said, there is nothing to hide in around here.”
Grimacing, “So, you think we could’ve made it out earlier?” Bill asked.
Shaking his head, “Doubt it,” Johnathan admitted, seeing the group of stinkers just standing on the road. “We know they had us surrounded.”
Feeling somewhat better, “We just wait to see if the mob goes away,” Bill said, watching the group of stinkers look off to the southeast.
“We can’t let them surround us or we won’t get out,” Johnathan said.
Nodding his head turning north, “Told the wives that,” Bill said.
Staring at the mob now, Johnathan saw many on the north end turn from the southeast to look north. “You see something coming from the north?” Johnathan asked.
Blaring rock music sounded to the north before Bill answered and another four-wheeler came around the trees. Lifting his AR, Bill saw it had two riders like the last one as the four-wheeler steered off the road, speeding through the ditch.
When his sight rested on the driver, the four-wheeler went airborne out of the ditch and barreled toward the barn. Waiting as the four-wheeler bounced back down, Bill squeezed the trigger. The driver jerked back, pulling the handlebar sharply to the right.
The four-wheeler’s front tires dug in as the four-wheeler flipped end over end three times, throwing the riders through the air. Watching the riders crash down with the four-wheeler, Bill held his crosshairs on the passenger as the music shut off.
Scrambling to his feet, the driver looked at the mass of stinkers stumbling toward him and then at the barn. “Bullshit,” Bill said as the passenger moved to run for the barn.
Aiming at the passenger’s gut, Bill squeezed the trigger and watched the man fold over, dropping to the ground. Moving his aim, Bill saw the driver holding a hand to the right side of his chest. With his right chest covered in blood, the driver stumbled toward the road.
“Kill ‘em,” Johnathan said coldly, raising his AR.
“They-,” Bill stopped as he turned and saw the mob heading off the road. Some were heading for the driver, but more than half were heading for the barn.
As Johnathan’s rifle gave a cough, Bill turned back to sight in on the driver’s lower back. “You can buy us some time,” Bill said, squeezing the trigger. The driver collapsed, reaching back with his left hand to his back and letting out a scream.
Moving his crosshairs from face to face, Johnathan snapped off shots, never watching the impact as he moved to the next target. Feeling his bolt lock back, Johnathan dropped his magazine and pulled out another as Bill opened up. “You concentrate on those to the front. I will work from the side, so they don’t get to our side,” Johnathan said, letting the bolt go and chambering a round.
“Got it,” Bill said, ejecting his empty magazine as Johnathan opened up.
Shooting the edge of the mob working in, Johnathan saw the group bunching up as those behind the ones he’d dropped tripped over the bodies. Putting in another magazine, Johnathan heard suppressed shots from the back of the barn and risked a quick glance back.
Both Mary and Sandy were at the corner of the door shooting out. Mary was using a 10/22 and Sandy was using her AR. “Have company at the back,” Johnathan said, turning back and sighting in on a face.
“They will have to deal until we whittle this group down,” Bill said, dropping an empty magazine. Slamming in a fresh mag, Bill looked out at the stinkers moving over the dead bodies. “Persistent fuckers,” he said, watching a group of twenty still heading for the driver trying to crawl away. Looking around, he saw the passenger crawling for the trees with another pack after him.
Leaving those, Bill went back to work. With their coordinated fire, the stinkers left were being held back fifty yards. The ones at the back pushed forward, making the ones in front trip over the dead. Slamming in another magazine, Bill was starting to feel optimistic.
“Get your shit, we are leaving!” Sandy screamed and they both stopped firing and turned to see the wives running down the stairs from the loft.
Scooping up their empty mags and throwing them in the dump bags, they both grabbed their packs and ran down the loft, putting them on. “Bill, lead them straight out across the road into the field, then turn north!” Johnathan shouted, taking the stairs two at a time. “Another pack of stinkers coming from the north.”
With her reins clutched in her hands, Mary climbed up on her horse. “Too many to fucking count at the back,” she screamed, getting in her saddle.
Climbing up on his horse and before he could ask, Bill saw Johnathan leading
his horse to the front door. “You move your ass,” Johnathan shouted, grabbing the door handle. Tensing up to open the door Johnathan froze, hearing a resounding thud across the entire back wall of the barn and the sliding door began to buckle in.
Glancing back and seeing the wives ready, Bill turned to see the dogs at the door. “Dan, Ann, heel up!” Bill shouted, kicking his horse and Johnathan yanked the door open. Bill sucked in a breath, seeing the stinkers just yards away spread out in front of the door.
As his horse charged ahead, Bill raised his AR with one hand, aiming ahead. Feeling his horse falter charging the stinkers, Bill kicked the horse’s sides hard. More scared of Bill than the stinkers, the horse charged ahead as the stinkers closed in, reaching out for him.
The line of stinkers was only three or four deep as the horse crashed through and Bill felt a hand grab his left leg. As his horse broke through, Bill looked down at a young boy stinker holding his leg and being dragged along. The stinker opened its mouth, pulling it toward his leg.
Reaching around with the AR, Bill put the barrel on the kid’s head and pulled the trigger. The stinker’s head exploded and the body dropped down under the horse’s hooves. Glancing ahead, Bill saw his horse was charging blindly across the road.
About to turn around, Bill felt pain explode in his left calf. Looking down, he saw a male stinker holding onto the stirrup. With the stinker’s legs being dragged along, the stinker’s mouth was clamped on Bill’s calf.
“Fuck!” Bill screamed, aiming the AR down and pulling the trigger. The stinker’s head exploded and the body fell off and Bill could swear he felt individual teeth pull out. Glancing down at his bloody pants leg, Bill glanced back to see the wives clearing the road, shooting to the north.
Moving his gaze, he saw two men on a four-wheeler getting riddled by bullets. Behind the four-wheeler, Bill saw another group of stinkers that wasn’t as big as the first. Turning back to the barn, he saw Johnathan kicking his horse toward the road.
When he saw the sides of the barn, Bill’s eyes got wide at seeing what he could only describe as walls of stinkers on each side of the barn. Before he turned back around, Bill saw stinkers pouring out the front door, not far behind Johnathan. Turning back in his saddle, Bill knew the only way the stinkers were coming out the front, they had breached the back door in seconds.
Forsaken World (Book 3): Rite of Passage Page 40