Zombies! (Book 6): Hold The Line

by Merritt, R. S.

  The Zombie darted forward and closed its mouth around the barrel of the gun. With its teeth way too close to his fingers Kyler pulled the trigger twice blowing the back of the Zombies skull out. Its mouth threatened to tug his pistol out of the car with it. Kyler held on and shoved the carcass away from the car. He lost control of the door though and another Zombie managed to get between the door and the car. Kyler shot that Zombie a few times while kicking it to keep it from biting him. He reached out to close the door and another Zombie tried to grab his arm. He shot that Zombie with the bullets left in his pistol as Kelly turned the car hard back onto the dirt road. The force of her turning the car slammed the door in Kyler’s face. He felt the cartilage in his nose crunch when the window hit him in the face.

  Kyler fell back in his seat breathing hard. Surprised to be alive and ecstatic to not have been bitten he discovered his hands were shaking like he was having a seizure. His nose pounded and blood streamed from his nostrils into his mouth over his swollen lips. He was trying to use his shirt sleeve to stem the flow of blood when Myriah handed him a wadded-up shirt from the back seat to use. He put that under his nose and applied pressure to try and stop the bleeding. In the light of the high beams up ahead there was at least one Zombie charging straight for them.

  There were too many Zombies chasing behind them to slow down, so Kelly just yelled for everyone to hang on and drove right through the Zombie. It tried to dive through the windshield at the last second resulting in the windshield getting smashed in. The safety glass held. The Zombie rolled off the car dead as a doornail with a broken neck. The smashed in windshield was pretty useless so Kyler used his good leg to kick it out of the frame. Kelly shielded her eyes from the little pieces of glass flying around.

  With no windshield or bumper left it was going to get pretty hard to try and run straight through any more Zombies. Luckily, they hit the main road a few seconds after that last Zombie collision. Kelly hit the brakes and turned the wheel to spin them out onto the main road. As soon as they were lined up, she floored it to get them the hell out of there. Looking out his window Kyler could see the shadows of the herd running through the fields still trying to catch up to them. He watched until they disappeared into the distance.

  With no windshield and one working headlight they pointed the car in a northerly direction and continued on their journey to freedom.

  Chapter 21: The Definition of Insanity

  Krantz looked down at the Zombies streaming through the woods and fields below. An unanticipated result of the fighting in South Carolina had been how stirred up the infected had become. The Zombies had come together in groups that swarmed through the forests towards wherever the latest sounds of war were coming from. The practice of having their forces move through the woods in small groups then reform to fight had led to an unexpectedly high level of encounters in the woods.

  The Zombies had traditionally stuck to roads and towns and places where humans were more likely to be present. They were either evolving to find their prey, getting more desperate or worst case they were getting smarter. Even as the humans left the cities to hide in the woods the Zombies formed packs to go out and find them. The ones with the enhanced hearing leading the charge. Whatever Zombies happened to be nearby falling in behind to run through the woods like a pack of starving wolves.

  The final results of this new phenomena were massive casualties to ground forces as well as to the new recruits that’d been taken in South Carolina. Krantz wasn’t looking forward to seeing what the final tallies were once everyone had reported in. They had men trying to get a census of the state as well, but no one had heard from them in a few weeks. There was a high probability that particular task force was dead.

  The Brotherhood had paid a much steeper price for South Carolina than anticipated. Looking down at the Zombie herd below him it occurred to Krantz how stupid it was for him to be flying towards the North Carolina border. The one place in the country that they knew beyond the shadow of a doubt was capable of sending out fighter planes to shoot down their helicopters. He must really be desperate if he thought he could somehow swoop in and rescue Roberts. Desperate to not have to take on the responsibility of an even higher level of leadership than he’d somehow ended up with already.

  Roberts shouldn’t have been doing this either. Just because the guy could fly the hell out of an attack chopper didn’t mean that’s where he should’ve been spending his time. The Senator had put him in charge of all the New American forces. Leaders of armies spanning multiple states and mobilizing thousands of troops didn’t lead from the front. It wasn’t responsible of them to do so. Roberts had royally screwed everyone over by getting himself killed when he should’ve been sitting in a base in Georgia directing everything from a comfortable chair in a bomb proof bunker.

  Krantz had almost fallen into the same trap. He ordered his pilot to change course and fly them to one of the bases along the Georgia border instead. It would have the communications links he’d need to gather the information to start making plans. They needed to completely change their approach. The Brotherhood had been winning so far because they hadn’t picked on anyone their own size. The north was the first force that had a real chance of going toe to toe with them and winning. Having the men from the Georgia Air National Guard as the backbone of their forces was at the core of what’d made the Brotherhood so strong. That and the number of people they’d managed to save. Those were the two of the things that had enabled the Senator to achieve his goals of expansion so quickly.

  All of that had been thanks to the quick thinking of Roberts. It’d been his idea to secure the families of as many of the military members as possible. It’d been Roberts who’d locked down the air bases and not let the men leave to get their families but instead sent out armed soldiers to fetch the families for them. The Senator seemed to have known the virus was coming. He’d used Roberts to help him ride the wave of the apocalypse to a place of power. Krantz wasn’t sure how he’d been selected to carry on the legacy Roberts had begun. He just hoped he was up to the task. If he wasn’t, he knew the Senator wouldn’t hesitate to have him replaced.

  The pilot let Krantz know they’d need to set down to refuel before reaching the Georgia outpost. Krantz nodded and watched as the pilot hovered above a tennis court that’d been cleared off to make room for the large aircraft to land. A brief radio conversation confirmed the refueling station was stocked and ready to fuel them up. The turnaround would need to be like a pitstop for NASCAR though. If the pitstops at NASCAR included lots of automatic weapon fire and a gruesome death if you didn’t get moving again fast enough. This particular refueling post was a throwaway location. There were chain link fences surrounding the park they were going to refuel in. Everything had been secured but the man waiting below would need a ride out once they’d finished fueling up.

  Krantz watched with interest. This had been one of his ideas to deal with the issue of not being able to safely maintain permanent refueling stations for aircraft. The idea of mobile refueling stations that were intended to just be used one time had seemed pretty good on paper. Watching the actual execution of the idea he saw that using the roofs of tall buildings was probably the better idea.

  They landed in the middle of the tennis court. A large man with a huge beard and massive mane of dark unkempt shaggy hair immediately drove a pickup truck as close to them as he could get. Guards and the pilot jumped out to assist in getting the helicopter fueled up. While they were busy connecting the fuel lines and getting the pump going the first wave of Zombies started hitting the chain link fences surrounding the park. A couple of the guards broke off from the main group to take care of the incoming infected.

  The guards didn’t have to wait long before some of the Zombies ripped their way through the chain link fence and charged for the helicopter. The trickle of Zombies would become a raging river soon enough. Krantz ordered everyone to get out and man a post. He hopped out of his own seat and stood in the front of the
helicopter with an AK-47 loosely tucked into his shoulder. He began calling out targets and taking shots with the guards. They watched as an entire section of the fencing gave way to the sheer weight of the Zombies pressing on it. The Zombies scrambled over it and joined the howling mob rushing towards them.

  “How much longer on the fuel?” Krantz yelled over his shoulder. He was firing constantly now. He’d timed the question to a brief period when he was busy reloading. He could barely hear the guy with Hagrid hair behind him yelling they needed another minute. He wasn’t sure another minute was in the cards.

  Then the shooting slowed as the number of upright targets moving towards them dwindled down to zero. Krantz put his rifle strap over his shoulder and turned to get back in the helicopter.

  “Nice shooting sir.” Tom said from the bench seat in the crew area behind him.

  “How come you didn’t get out?” Krantz asked.

  “No weapons sir. I’m more IT than soldier.” Tom answered.

  “Not anymore. Get yourself a pistol and a rifle. You’ll carry them everywhere. Make sure you know how to use them. When the shit hits the fan there’s no IT guys or pilots or clerks around me. There are only soldiers. Understood?” Krantz asked.

  Shots began to ring out again from around the helicopter as the next wave of Zombies rushed them. Krantz turned his attention to the men fanning out to stop this newest wave. He was debating whether he needed to get back out or not when the pilot hopped in his seat and announced they were gassed up and ready to go. The guards fell back by the numbers climbing quickly back into the helicopter. The pilot got the bird in the air with seconds to spare before the first Zombies started hurling their bodies at where the chopper had been sitting seconds before.

  Ignoring the insane mosh pit forming beneath them Krantz ordered the pilot to continue to the outpost in Georgia. The outposts he’d established as part of the supply chain were kept stocked with everything needed to keep the helicopters in the air. Everything but the mechanics. Those guys were in short supply and well worth their weight in whatever they wanted. Their families all had really nice quarters in the protected zones.

  All of the pilots spent time learning the basics of preventative maintenance and the other tasks the mechanics routinely performed. It wasn’t like they could send the helicopter to the repair ship to get it fixed or junk it and buy a new one. They had an air force of different fighter jets as well but were much shorter on the pilots to fly those. That was going to have to be considered since the Senator wanted to go head to head with the military up in North Carolina. The core military up north were from the Navy bases up around Norfolk. They had plenty of pilots and planes it seemed based on the recent attacks. Most likely the pilots were men who’d been based on the carriers out of Norfolk.

  An hour later they settled down on top of a three-story parking garage. The bottom levels had been blocked off using vehicles and fencing. The fencing had been bolted into place with the individual pieces welded together. There were three layers of the fencing the Zombies would have to beat through to get at them. The parking garage was connected to the top floor of a rural hospital. The hospital had received the same fence treatment as the parking garage. So far it was all proving pretty effective.

  Krantz walked across the bridge leading from the parking garage to the hospital. He didn’t bother to look down since he could hear the screaming of the Zombies below without an issue. Based on the volume of the screeching there was a street full of Zombies hanging out hoping the fences broke or someone tripped and fell over the edge. He was curious to find out how the commander of this base thought it was working out. Being up on the top floors with everything welded shut kept them safe but they were basically putting themselves on an island surrounded by cannibals who wanted them dead. How they kept themselves supplied and sane were things Krantz needed to understand.

  Tom had no such reservations about looking over the edge of the bridge to see what it looked like below. The scene below of the Zombies staring up open mouthed screaming out their hatred of humanity felt a bit more real from the bridge than it had from the ten-story hotel Tom had been living in. Being this much closer to that sea of madness was way freakier than peering down from the top of the Sheraton. This close the roar didn’t hit you like a solid wave. You could make out the different voices echoing up. All of the screeches were soaked with hatred, but a few seemed oddly sad as well.

  An armed guard stood at the entrance to the hospital. It was a patio that’d been surrounded with high fencing bolted to the ground and secured. The guard had already moved the bolt and opened the gate to allow them in. The man was standing at attention waiting for them to get there. He snapped off a salute as Krantz got closer.

  “Welcome to outpost Iron Turtle sir. The outpost commander is on his way up to meet you if you’d like to wait here for a minute. He received some last-minute secure comms that only he was authorized to see. Something like that sir. I’m not a hundred percent how any of that works anymore. Especially now.” The guard trailed off awkwardly.

  “Tin cans and string mostly. A little bit of magic with computers and wires and duct tape that I don’t understand either. If you can give us directions, I’m anxious to learn what was in those secure comms. I’m assuming some of it may have been meant for me.” Krantz said.

  The guard hastily agreed. He was obviously relieved Krantz had known well enough to not ask him to escort them. Leaving your post was typically frowned upon in a day and age where an open door could easily lead to a house full of Zombies with no warning. Nobody wants a house full of Zombies.

  Krantz and his party continued cross the patio and through the hospital doors. The wide hallway on the other side of the doors had a few people walking purposefully to carry out their duties. Or, they may have just been trying to find a place to smoke but in true military fashion they did it with purpose. The communication room was at the end of the hall on the right. An armed soldier met them when they were about halfway there. The man saluted and escorted them the rest of the way to the comms room. When they got there, he addressed Krantz directly.

  “Sir. The commander asked me to clear the comms room when he started getting the messaging. He’s asked that only you be permitted to enter. Everyone else will need to stay out here. It’s eyes only clearance level sir.” Krantz nodded and placing his hand on his revolver he went in through the door the guard opened for him.

  An old marine in BDUs looked up from a leather chair he was sitting in when Krantz walked in. The man popped to his feet with a spryness that seemed odd in someone with as many wrinkles as this guy was sporting. Saluting he introduced himself as the commanding officer of the Iron Turtle outpost. He threw out his former rank as well which was USMC Retired Lt Colonel Forrest.

  Krantz wasn’t in the least bit surprised he’d recognized the man as a marine before the introduction. There was just a certain air of arrogance and competence that surrounded a marine that didn’t necessarily exist in the other armed forces. The term military bearing might as well have been coined to represent how marines presented themselves. He remembered having made a game of going into bars in his younger days and seeing if he could find the marine in the bar. It’s been said no matter where you are in the world if you hang out in a bar long enough, you’ll bump into a jarhead.

  “At ease.” Krantz said after returning the man’s salute. “What’s the news?”

  “We’ve been hit hard sir.” Forrest said holding up a faxed document with the names of bases printed out on it. “I’m not sure how much of this I was supposed to see but I don’t know how to print them out without looking at them.”

  Krantz nodded dismissively. He felt the man’s pain. The struggle to adapt to cave man technology was real. He knew instinctively he could trust the grizzled old warrior to keep his mouth shut. Holding the paper up on the desk he was standing beside he scanned through the list of cities and outposts. It looked like every major military base and a significant number of
the larger outposts had been hit by missiles launched from fighter planes. He stopped at the casualty report on the Columbia, South Carolina entry.

  “We just left from there.” Krantz said looking at Forrest. It was Forrest’s turn to shrug.

  “If it’s on that list then it took some major hits. These guys weren’t screwing around sir. No way to tell for sure if they were after you or just taking out outposts. Considering they got Roberts though it seems like they may have been after you. No way to know for sure unless we can get some HUMINT. I’m assuming we have some sort of HUMINT ops going on at least. Not that I’d know anything about it.” Forrest said. He added the last phrase denying knowing about any HUMINT gathering ops in progress quickly when Krantz looked up at him sharply.

  “There’s more info on the specifics in here sir. I can let you use my office if you need time to review and absorb everything. I can stand by as well to relay any orders or questions you need sent out.” Forrest said handing Krantz a thick stack of paperwork.