by TW Gallier
Coop didn't believe the apartment building was concrete as first reported. I agreed. It looked like wood frame with brick veneer to me. Our weapons would go through that shit. The soldiers had no protection from crew-served weapons. Hell, the M-4s would probably take them out.
"Follow me and do what I do," Coop said.
We stealthily crossed the four-lane road, and rushed up into the open air garage. I thought Coop planned to access the apartment building and go up to the roof. Nope. He led us to the high-rise. We found a busted open door and got inside easily enough. Then we took the emergency stairs up to the 8th floor. After breaking into a condo, we found ourselves looking down on the squad guarding the bridge. They had two .50 Cals on tripods overlooking the highway and bridge.
"Okay, I'm going to smash out this window," Coop said, picking up a large chair. "Get ready to open up on those bastards."
"Can I hit them with a grenade?" Mike asked.
"Knock yourself out," I said. "Hit them with two."
I dropped to one knee next to Charlie. Sean and Mike were on the other side of Coop. The big ex-Seal took a running start, and threw the heavy chair into the window. And it bounced back onto the floor. The glass was shattered, but being held together by some internal lay of plastic or something. I cursed, Coop growled, and Charlie started shooting through it anyway. The rest of us opened up, too, while Coop picked up the chair and threw it again.
The window was smashed through, and most of the pane dropped to the ground with the chair. Coop joined us in firing down on the startled soldiers, and he was carrying an M-249. We all hit them with full auto. I went through two magazines before we were confident they were all dead. Mike never got to fire his grenade.
"We have to get across the bridge fast," I said. "They might've had time to radio a distress call."
Chapter 9
Sean
We ran all of the way back to the vehicles. Roger led the way, with Coop right behind. Charlie and Mike held back to cover us, but I struggled to keep up that pace. Hell, I was at least ten years older than their eldest. Probably older. Thank god the others were less than a mile away.
"Roger, get us across that bridge as fast as possible," I radioed once behind my .50 Cal. I noticed Mike and Charlie abandoned their motorcycles and climbed into the back of the Humvee. "The teams will split up as soon as we cross the bridge."
Roger and Coop acknowledge as our column began moving. We sped up as we drove toward the ramp to I-471 and were booking along at top speed when we passed by the apartment. The building overlooked the Kentucky end of the bridge. We were about a third of the way across when we came under fire.
"Where's that coming from?" Coop demanded.
"Boats on the river," Ivor replied. "Three o'clock. Fire!"
We all swiveled our turrets to the right. I spotted three speed boats on the river. Coop and Ivor opened up with their M60s. Roger was next with his .50 Cal. My turret protested, only moving slowly and with extreme effort on my part. I was able to return fire by the time we reached the middle of the bridge. Two of the boats had already been taken out and were capsized.
All four of us fired into the last boat, and it exploded.
"Well, that was fun," Ivor said.
I struggled to get my turret and weapon back to the front. We were rolling off the bridge by that time. Cincinnati's downtown business district was to our left, towering above us. I glanced at the traffic signs above the road, trying to find my turn off. Roger took the first off-ramp. His team was given the southernmost position on the airfield. I had the highest, with Coop in the middle.
I almost followed Roger's team down that off-ramp just to get off that open highway. Coop led his team down the next off-ramp. I continued the short distance up to Reading Road and turned right.
"Hey, I didn't know Cincinnati had casinos," my driver said over the comm. I wasn't aware of it, either. "I just had a vision of zombies playing roulette and poker. I'll see your eye, and raise you a thumb."
"You are hanging around Mike and Charlie too much, Brett," I replied. I studied my map and route a second. "Around this bend is Liberty Street. Turn left on it."
"Zombies," Brett said as soon as the intersection came into view.
"Drive around them."
There were three zombies. Just three. Hardly worth mentioning. We didn't have any issue avoiding them. I wasn't going to waste ammo on them.
"Helicopters coming in," Roger called over the radio. "Find cover."
"Damn, I thought we'd have more time," I muttered. Keying my mic, "Brett, turn right here."
The street sign said it was Broadway, but it was anything but wide. It was a nice narrow street between multi-story homes hugging the sidewalks. A helicopter would have to be directly above to see us. We didn't have to go far to find a tree-covered drive to park.
I then took two men with me and headed up the hill. We found a white stone building with an outside fire escape that we used to access the roof. We couldn't see the helicopters or the river from that location, but we could hear them flying around. I left Fred and a biker named Jay there to watch for helicopters.
Returning to the others, I pulled out my map and studied it. A few minutes later I heard a truck start out on Liberty. I ducked behind the Humvee, weapon instantly in hand. No one else moved, and some of the bikers grinned at me.
"That's just Cash," a biker named Carter said. "He went over to check out a rock hauler abandoned on the road."
"Why? It's too big. The pilots will spot it driving down the road from a million miles away."
"It's big, heavy, and will crash through that gate like a hot knife through butter," Carter said. "And the rest of us can ride in the steel trailer."
My brain suddenly started going a mile a minute. That rock hauler changed everything.
Chapter 10
Roger
We had a good view of the river and bridge. I'd left all of our vehicles parked in the garages of abandoned homes around the intersection of Carney and Paradrome, which were few and far between in that neighborhood. The men were left guarding them, with orders that one man had to be on guard in each garage at all times, while the others rested. I left on foot with TareBear, Mike, and Charlie. We found an apartment building on the hill overlooking the river and watched all of the chaos we wrought.
"Do you think they know who attacked them?" Mike asked.
"No. It could be anyone," I replied. At least I hoped not. His comment made me anxious again, because Jenny could be punished if they figured out who did the deed. "Stop asking stupid questions."
"Since we left two bikes back there, they're more likely to blame us than you," TareBear said. He grimaced. "I swear, if they touch one hair on Taryn's head…"
"We'll hold them down for you," Charlie said, also looking grim.
The only consolation I could see was the soldiers didn't know for sure someone crossed over the bridge, or if it was just someone retaliating against them. Probably every survivor in the area had an ax to grind with them. And they'd more than earned any ill-will aimed at them.
While Mike and Charlie watched the soldiers, TareBear and I moved deeper into the apartment to study my street map. My route was already marked, but with helicopters out and about it was more dangerous.
We were in the Mt Adams neighborhood, with Eden Park between us and Walnut Hills. There weren't many roads across Eden Park and I worried that we'd be too exposed.
"We could take Columbia Parkway and reach Alms Park really fast," TareBear said, running his finger along that route. "Of course, we'll probably be slaughtered by helicopters in the attempt."
Columbia ran along the river. It was below the complex we were hiding inside.
"Yeah, we'll put that in the last resort folder," I said. "It's hard to judge distance with this type map, but it looks like less than five miles to me."
Since city maps didn't show terrain it could be five very exposed miles, too. But from what I'd seen while studying the city
from the Kentucky side, the riverside neighborhoods were pretty hilly and wooded.
"Okay, we'll stick with the route marked until given a reason otherwise," I said.
It was almost 11 AM before the area quieted down and the helicopters vanished from the sky. We waited another hour before I led them back to the others. After briefing everyone on the situation, we mounted up and I led the way up Paradrome to Ida Street. That took us up to the art museum, and then over to Fulton Avenue. That street was heavily wooded on both sides about halfway to Nassau, and then turned residential. I was feeling good about it, until I spotted the zombies on the other side of the Nassau intersection.
There probably wasn't more than twenty or thirty zombies, but they were massed in the middle of the road. Getting around them was possible, and going through them presented other problems. Shooting them might attract unwanted attention.
"Turn right," I told my driver. Terrel hit the gas going round the corner while I checked my map for the best way to get back on my original route. "Take the next left onto Kemper."
That's wasn't so bad. I was planning to move over to Kemper when we reached Windsor anyway. It was an older neighborhood, with two and three story homes. It looked tranquil without people, though most of the front doors and windows were busted out. There were some small apartment buildings, whose number increased after we crossed Windsor.
Gunfire erupted ahead of us as we reached the Walnut Hills Post Office.
"Turn in here."
Terrel didn't hesitate. We turned into the post office so fast we almost lifted up on two wheels. The others followed us behind the building and we stopped under overhanging trees. The firefight raged on even more intensely in the middle distance.
"Dismount," I called. "Drivers stay to guard the vehicles."
I led fourteen men behind the buildings on Kemper Lane. To our right, lining the next street over, were some large private homes. Their parking was at the back of their yards, but accessed from their street. No alley. We jumped fences and moved quickly. Soon we found ourselves behind a large church.
"This street's clear. It sounds like the fight in one more street over," I said. It was just a small cross street with older homes on the other side. "I'll take Mike across with me first. TareBear, you take charge on this side and move the men over two at a time."
Mike and I took off running across the street. We ran up between two houses and dropped to a knee to help protect the next pair. TareBear kept them coming and quickly got everyone across. Once about two-thirds of the men were across, I sent Mike off on point.
Mike returned before everyone was on that side of the street.
"Roger, I found them," he said. Charlie and TareBear moved up close. "There's another church to our left, and a funeral home dead ahead. Zombies have a small foot patrol of soldiers cornered across the next street. Unfortunately, the soldiers spotted me."
"Damn," I said. "That sucks greasy donkey balls. They probably have a radio and help is coming."
"This place will be crawling with soldiers before long," TareBear said.
After they rescue the patrol, they'll probably start looking for us. Not a good situation.
We can't just drive over to another street and continue. The sky will probably be full of helicopters.
"Let's give them something to check out," I said. Everyone gave me a curious look. "They are fighting for their lives against the zombies, so we have an advantage. I want to go over and engage the soldiers. They can't fight us and the zombies. We kill them. The zombies will start eating them, and that's what any backup will find."
"Man, that's cold," TareBear said, but his eyes narrowed. "Just what those wife-stealing bastards deserve."
"I agree. Here's what we're going to do," I said. "We're going to spread out on this side of the street. You boys with SAWs will be doing most of the work. No grenades. We want it to look like the zombies killed them."
"Want the soldiers coming to help see all their wounds and know someone else killed them?" Paul, one of the bikers, asked.
"Maybe, but probably not," I said.
"The zombies will jump on them immediately and start chowing down," Charlie said. "The dead soldiers will be all bloody and half-eaten by the time help arrives too late."
"Exactly. Now, we kill them and the zombies closest to us as fast as we can and get the hell out of there. Zombies will be after us, but I'm hoping most will stop to eat the dead," I said. "On that happy thought, let's go kill some bad guys."
With Mike on point, I led my team toward the fight. I listened as we moved. The soldiers were showing remarkable discipline. No automatic fire. Nothing but single shots and short three-round bursts. Of course, they expected help to arrive and save them. It was good to be part of a bigger team.
There was far less cover than I expected. The patrol was cornered in the space between the Parkside Café and a large brown-brick building. Their escape was blocked in back. There were probably less than a hundred zombies, with about two dozen more already killed by the soldiers. So most of the zombies were already feasting on their dead brethren. I thought the soldiers could've fought their way past the few still attacking them.
"TareBear, take half the men and break into the back of the funeral home. Shoot the zombies and soldiers through the windows," I said. The windows at the corner had direct line of sight to the besieged patrol. "The rest of you take up positions behind the cars in this parking lot. Everyone open fire after I take the first shot."
The funeral home parking lot was directly across from the café and soldiers. It was about half-full of abandoned cars. The zombies and soldiers were preoccupied with each other, so we were able to filter up close and take positions behind cars. I waited until TareBear opened a side window and gave me the thumbs up. I noticed two bikers atop the building, including one with an M-249.
I turned my attention back on the soldiers. They'd whittled the attacking zombies down to about a dozen. I could see more coming down the street in both directions, attracted by all of the noise. I smiled, took careful aim at the soldier in back and shouting orders.
And pulled the trigger.
His head snapped back. I heard a shout of surprise from the soldiers, and then everyone on our side opened fire. Our fire was so intense and heavy, and the soldiers had no cover whatsoever, that the fight lasted less than a minute.
Some of the zombies turned on us, and we mowed them down.
"Bug out!" I shouted.
We backed away quickly, but kept our weapons on the zombies. They must have been starving, because we were not their first priority. They fell upon the dead, zombies and soldiers, and started ripping chunks of meat off with their teeth. It was the most sickening sight imaginable.
"I hear vehicles," Charlie called.
The sound of trucks in the distance reached us. I looked up and around, afraid helicopters would come streaking out of the blue. I ensured everyone used all available cover as we rushed back to the post office and our vehicles. Two helicopters were circling over the battle site by the time with reached our vehicles.
"We can't move with those helicopters up there," I said. "If they spend as much time at that site as they did at the bridge, then we'll never reach the airfield in time." I studied my map. "We haven't made much progress, either. We still have several miles to go."
I planned to go further north before turning eastward towards the airfield. But if we took a more direct route we could cut off a mile or two. And the helicopters made it a necessity, since we'd be going on foot the rest of the way.
"Pull the .50 Cals out," I said. "We'll be heading out on foot now."
"Holy crap, do you know how heavy those damn things are?" Charlie replied.
"The barrels have handles, but the receiver assemblies will be a mother fucker to carry," Mike piped in.
"I know. We'll use rope to strap the receivers or barrels to our backs, so we can still carry and use our weapons," I said. "We have sixteen men and five .50 Cals, with
five extra barrels. So it'll take fifteen men to carry them, but we can rotate receivers and barrels as you tire." I pointed at Mike. "He's our point man, so can't carry anything. The rest of us are mules."
To my surprise, no one objected. We found some straps in the Humvee, combined with some rope, we made harnesses for our burdens. Since it was my idea, I took on a receiver. It wasn't long before I wished I hadn't. But the worst part was carrying all of the .50 Cal ammo. We had to carry the ammo boxes by hand.
There were three helicopters and the sound of numerous vehicles off in the distance when we set out. Using any available cover, we paralleled McMillan down to William Howard Taft, at which point we crossed that street and continued cross-country.
I felt better about our chances after we stopped following streets and entered the wooded area. The terrain was rougher, hilly and wooded, but gave us much needed cover from helicopters. I kept the river to my right as we moved. Mike's instructions were to keep us away from open country.
The area was residential, but streets were few and far between. It looked more crowded on the map than it felt on foot. And it wasn't long before we were all huffing and puffing.
"Hell, I never worked this hard in the Army," Charlie said.
We occasionally heard a helicopter pass overhead or vehicles down on Columbia Parkway, but nothing to make us stop and take cover. And eventually we did it. We reached Alms Park atop the hill overlooking the airfield.
"Well fuck me to tears," Charlie said.
I shook my head as I looked upon two Humvees and soldiers. They were obviously there to secure the hilltop from people like us. I counted eight soldiers milling about, laughing and joking.
"TareBear, can you take two men over to that spot," I said, pointing to some trees where I wanted them. "The rest of us are going to try and sneak up behind them, and then kill them quickly and quietly with machetes. If they spot us approaching, I need you to mow them down as fast as possible. Full auto. Don't take any chances."