by TW Gallier
"Mmm," he said, looking me over again. "I have a twenty-two year old single daughter."
"I have a wife and two sons."
"If you two are finished flirting," another middle-aged man said.
Everyone was crouched over and running for the nearest alley. It led back to our vehicles. The women and children were already out of sight.
Kevin looked at the other guy, then at me and shrugged. "He was a squid."
"Ah."
I joined the few men left in my team still unharmed. We provided cover for the others. By the time I reached the alley, I spotted Mike's team starting to bug out. Halfway down the alley, Charlie's team stopped firing. We were in full get the hell out of Dodge mode.
By the time we reached the parking lot, some vehicles were pulling away. They were packed to the max with children. I nodded approval to see Kevin making sure the youngest escaped first.
I joined Charlie, Mike, and a dozen other men. There were gang bangers on foot down that street. I saw two of their pickups get shot up and crash. Most of them seemed to have automatic weapons.
First thing, I reminded everyone we had limited ammo.
"Roger, we need to have a long talk about your ammo fetish," Mike said.
I made sure someone was always shooting down the street. It didn't take much to keep your enemy's head down, especially if he wasn't a trained soldier. When the gang bangers tried to come at us from other streets and alleys, I spread my dwindling force to cover those avenues of approach.
"Hurry it up, Kevin! They're starting to surround us!"
He was loading women into cars and pickups as fast as he could. Some of the women drove, and sometimes he pulled one of my men away to drive. It didn't take too long to empty that parking lot. There were three vehicles left after all of the rescued women were gone, including our pickup.
"You guys get out. We'll hold them here a little longer," I shouted. "Good luck!"
"Good luck and God Bless," Kevin said. "Don't forget to look me up once all this zombie crap gets sorted out. I owe you a steak and an ass whooping."
"Can't wait."
Their remaining men rushed back to the two pickups, and tore out of there. It was the first time I truly felt like I made a difference since the shit hit the fan.
"Ass whooping?" Mike asked.
"I taunted him for being a Marine."
"Oh, man, they never forget," he said, chuckling. "You're fucked."
We didn't stay long. As soon as I heard engines turning over on the next block, I headed for the pickup.
"I'll drive. Light them up!"
I drove away in the opposite direction than Kevin and the others went. The gang bangers followed us. I counted three pickups and four sedans. All of them were at least as old as our Chevy.
Mike and Charlie jumped into the truck bed and shot over the tailgate. Full auto didn't have to be all that accurate in city streets. They had almost no wiggle room, so two sedans and a pickup pulled away with smoking engines before we reached the highway.
I turned south toward St. Louis.
It was full dark, so I turned off the headlights. That was scary with all of the abandoned cars and trucks on the road. The moonlight gave me enough light to drive. I took the third exit off the highway.
"What are you doing?" Charlie cried.
"Trying to shake them."
"It didn't work," Mike said, and opened fire.
I turned on the lights and floored it. I came close to flipping it when I went around the next corner. Instead of going back up on the highway, where it would be easy to follow us, I was determined to lose them in the streets. I quickly learned that they were a lot better at street chases than me. They started gaining.
"Brilliant move, Einstein!" Mike shouted.
A hail of bullets rippled across the windshield, pounding into the tailgate, fenders, and roof. What was left of the back window shattered away, and so many bullets hit the windshield it became a spider web of cracks.
"Ugh!" I cried in surprise when a shot hit the back of my helmet.
The blow slammed my face into the steering wheel. Exquisite pain ripped through me from nose to back of my head, and down my neck. A second later our pickup slammed into an abandoned car.
"God-dammit," Mike screamed. "Are you trying to kill us?"
"You're banned from driving," Charlie said.
The engine was still running, so I put it in reverse and hit the gas. A second later we slammed into a pursuing sedan, which was skidding to a stop.
"Fire them up!" I cried.
Mike and Charlie opened up full auto. Other gang banger vehicles came skidding up as well. One flipped over and tumbled down the street past us. I put it in first and took off, running over a gang member crawling out of the overturned car.
"Two are still following us," Charlie said.
The engine was smoking. I could tell it was losing power. I turned left at the next street, then right into an alley. I crossed the next street and drove into that alley. After a few more turns, I suddenly came out of built up land. The Mississippi River was before us.
"Shit."
That road went down to the shore, and a boat ramp. There were a few boats on trailers attached to abandoned vehicles. One of them was a big red fire and rescue boat. I parked between it and a trailered bass boat.
"See if one of them starts."
Mike jumped into the twenty-seven foot, flat-bottom fire and rescue boat. Charlie checked the bass boat. They both had big ass Mercury outboards. The fire rescue boat actually turned over.
"Wahoo!" I cried. "Move everything over."
While they transferred everything from the pickup to the boat, I moved around it quickly unfastening anything and everything holding it to the trailer. Then I got into the pickup and put it in Neutral.
"Are you ready?
"Done," Charlie called.
"Push us down the ramp."
Mike and Charlie pushed. I stood in the driver's door and pushed, with on hand on the steering wheel. Once it was all moving down the ramp on its own, I shouted for them to climb into the boat. And just in time.
We hit the water with a splash. Water washed over the boat, but it stayed afloat. Mike immediately cranked it up again. As the trailer and truck continued back, going under, I raced down the ramp and into the water. Charlie grabbed my arms and pulled me up.
Mike backed away, before turning to head downriver. The gang bangers' last two cars arrived. They must've seen what we did, because they started pushing the bass boat and pickup down the ramp.
I shook my head. Not only did it not start, but they didn't unfasten it from the trailer. That wasn't going to end well. And by that time we were too far away to see what they were doing.
We moved pretty fast. Those two big Mercury outboards were monsters. Soon, we rounded a bend and there was the Arch. The moonlight wasn't really lighting it up, but we could see its dark shape against the deep purple western sky.
"Hey, man, this is the first time I've seen the Gateway Arch in person," Mike called from the small driver's cabin.
For a twenty-seven foot boat, I thought it was remarkably short of room. Our gear, food, and ammo took up almost all of the deck. Of course, it wasn't organized yet. The cabin took up way too much space, yet it wasn't really large enough to hold all three of us. There was an AC unit on the roof, but we couldn't get it to work.
"Is everyone all right?" I asked. I took off my helmet and looked at the impact point. The bullet was still lodged in it. The Kevlar puffed up, looked pretty badly around it, but saved my life. My nose was another matter. "Any wounds or injuries?"
I probed my nose. It felt huge.
"Looks like you got a broken nose," Charlie said. "I was grazed a few times."
"All my injuries were from your crazy driving," Mike said. "Do you even have a license?"
"Yeah. A military driver's license."
"That explains it."
Chapter 24
The St Louis fire
and rescue boat had a much better first aid kit. We cleaned our wounds. Mike squeezed my nose. He said it was setting the bones, but I had my doubts. All I knew was it hurt worse than breaking and involved a lot more blood.
"You were never a pretty man, Roger, but you're going to be real ugly the next week or so," he said. "Your face is already turning yellow, black, and blue."
Charlie came over to look. "Damn. You could scare a zombie."
When it was all over I had enough blood down the front of my clothes to look like a zombie. I scrubbed it in the water, but without soap I didn't accomplish much more than getting rid of the excess. The BDU shirt and patches on the trousers retained their blood stains. Even the t-shirt underneath was stained.
I would've liked to take a dip in the river, but the current was still pretty bad. So I washed using buckets of water. The boat had a pretty good bilge pump, so I could use as much as I wanted.
"You saved the beer?" I asked.
"Of course. We're not barbarians," Mike said. "We have a few more Bud Lights, but mostly Miller High Life, Natural Light, and Coors."
"Gimme a Coors," I said. "I'm tired of that light crap."
We ate chips, drank beer, and drifted in the moonlight for the next few hours. All three of us were too tired to think straight. When we spotted an island, we circled it a few times, hitting it with the spotlight on board. Calling out to anyone on it through the loudspeaker. When we got no response, Mike and Charlie went ashore and scouted it out.
It was devoid of human life. The island was pretty close to the western side of the river, but it was pretty marshy in that area. It was as safe from other survivors we could hope for, and zombies didn't swim. The mosquitoes were killer that close to shore and the marsh.
"It'll be nice to sleep on dry land for once," I said.
"Do they have alligators this far north?" Mike asked.
I sighed. I looked at the marsh. That looked like alligator paradise. There were probably snakes and spiders. But we could have a fire on the island.
Big bad soldier that I am, I decided to spend the night on the boat. "One day I'll get you for that, Mike."
So that no one had to drive, we elected to tie off to the island. We tied off on the landward side, just in case other survivors came drifting down the river. And we still posted a guard. Two hours on, four off. Military training was hard to shake. I was allowed to have the first guard shift since I suffered the worst injuries.
I stood guard on my butt. Sat on one of the big outboard engines, with a beer and a bag of corn chips. My rifle was close at hand, and the pistol was resting on my hip. I no longer felt safe unless I was armed, even while sleeping.
Sporadic gunfire sounded in the distance, mostly on the western side of the river. At one point something big splashed southward through the marsh, and it was close enough I heard labored breathing. I kept my mouth shut and a finger on the trigger until it was past us.
Near the end of my shift, when I was struggling to not nod off, a clank caught my attention. It was close. The sound came from somewhere upriver, and on the water. Quickly sliding off the motor, I picked up my rifle and knelt on one knee. Another clank helped me to zero in on them.
Three john boats were moving downriver. Men were rowing with oars. They were just dark shapes, but I guessed there were at least four men in each boat. It looked like they were headed straight at us.
I moved as quietly as I could to the bow, where Charlie was sleeping and Mike snorting softly. I gently woke them, with a low, "Shhh."
Pointing at the approaching boats, I moved up next to the rope. We'd tied it off with a bow knot just in case we needed to make a fast escape. Mike slipped back to the cabin, ready to start up and take off at my signal. Charlie leveled his SAW at them.
Lucky men. They passed by on the other side of the island. Two of them discussed the island in whispers, and considered stopping for the night. They continued on. I breathed a sigh of relief. My heart raced for a while after they were long gone.
"I have the watch," Mike said. "Y'all get what sleep you can. The mosquitoes are horrible. I haven't slept a wink."
"Oh my god, you snore that loud while awake?" I asked.
"Charlie, do I snore?"
"Normally no," he said. "But tonight? Like a freight train."
I told him all I'd heard and seen during my watch. Then I needlessly warned him to stay alert for other boaters sneaking down the river, and found a place to sleep a bad day off.
Chapter 25
It was amazing how cold the mountains could be in the dawn's early light. Back in Atlanta, while living in a house with central air and heat, I thought it was terribly hot out even in the early morning. My body had acclimated after ten days and nights without AC, so early mornings felt chilly at best. Needless to say, I failed to bring a single jacket or coat, so all I had was a red flannel shirt for warmth.
I froze. Was that rustling in the forest below me? I'd found a great place overlooking a mountain meadow. Three days earlier I'd actually accomplished a hunting miracle. I bagged three deer crossing that very meadow.
After basking in my hunter's glory for a few, I sobered up. I'd just put the community three steps closer to leaving. Even as I sat on that fallen tree, Sean was curing the meat of my kills to feed the group as we traveled. Thanks to me.
In the four days since the meeting where everyone voted to leave, and refused to allow me and the boys to stay behind, everyone available had been hunting. Sean and three other men were busy building makeshift smoking shacks. They'd built three already, with plans for two more. Every extra piece of meat was put in them. The group had even cut back on the amount of meat we ate to save as much as we could.
It was my idea to cure as much meat as possible. What better way to provide for a long journey where our ability to find food was at best shaky than a stockpile of jerky. In truth it was just a ploy to buy Roger more time to reach us, but then I went off and put us a lot closer to departure with those three kills.
Still, I knew if I could do it again that I would. The more I killed the more my boys got to eat. Nothing mattered more than that.
"Roger, where are you?" I whispered, staring off at the horizon. Then I heard the faint crack of a branch. I eased the safety off and moved the butt of the 30-30 to my shoulder. "Hello little deer. Come to Momma."
Three days earlier it started just like that. A rustle, followed by a fawn timidly coming out of cover. Three does followed closely. I sighted in on the last doe to break cover, figuring the first was the momma deer to the fawn. Yet, I hesitated. The buck always came last. The bastards always offered up their mates and off-spring before they exposed themselves.
My heart raced when I remembered that moment when I saw him. That buck was the biggest I'd ever seen. His seven-point rack was huge. I held my breath as I sighted in on his flank, on his heart. As soon as he cleared cover enough for a clear shot – Bang!
The buck bolted toward the other side of the meadow. He was moving too fast for a clean shot, but I was pretty certain I hit him. Now it was time to try and shoot another.
I chambered another round almost without thought. It was pure instinct now. My father taught me to work a lever action rifle like a pro. So, being confident I swung the rifle to the left until my sights fell upon the rearmost doe. As soon as my sights lined up over her heart, I squeezed off another shot. She dropped like a rock. And since she was only halfway across the meadow, I continued swinging left as I chambered another round.
"Gotcha!" I whispered and pulled the trigger. A second doe dropped. One doe and a fawn escaped. When I lowered the rifle I spotted him. The buck had collapsed and died just short of the opposite treeline. "Wow!"
Yeah, that was my proudest hunting moment. Was I about to have a repeat?
Moving very slowly, I stood and stepped over the fallen tree. As I dropped to my knees behind it I heard something behind me. More deer? A wild hog? Of course, it could be birds, a rabbit, or a squirrel, too.
> Stay focused, girl, I thought.
I used the log to steady the rifle. My position was perfect. I had a perfect straight line view of one side of the meadow, plus clear view of the entire meadow. There was no escaping my rifle.
I'm like a modern day Daniel Boone, I thought with a grin. Okay, Daniella Boone.
Movement just inside the treeline caught my attention. I struggled to control my breathing. Funny, before hunting started to mean the difference between life and death I'd never gotten particularly excited before a kill. Maybe it was the success of that one day that stoked my fire. The chance of repeating that big day was thrilling.
I heard the faintest of rustling behind me again. So frustrating. Kind of freaked me out, too. But I stayed focused. There was more movement. Something big was approaching the meadow. And then I recognized what it was. A man.
My head lifted, finger coming off the trigger. Was it another hunter from our community? Or a stranger.
"Hello, sweetheart," a man said behind me.
An arm was around my waist before I could react. I was lifted off the ground. Another man came up to my right and snatched the 30-30 from my hands, and then he took my pistol.
"You won’t be needing these anymore," he said.
A third man appeared to my left, and realization hit me hard. I was in so much trouble. Realizing I was doomed no matter what I did, I went wild on them. Kicking, screaming, I did everything I could to break free. My captor held on tight, and the other two men grabbed my arms. Only then did he remove his arm from around my body.
"Uggh!" I cried when he pounded a fist into my lower back.
He moved around in front of me. Grinned. And then pounded a fist into my belly.
The bastard grabbed a fistful of hair, yanked my head up, and pushed his unshaven, unwashed face in close.
"You belong to us now, girl."
Chapter 26
"Do you think they are St Louis zombies?" I asked.
Since passing through St Louis the number of zombies wandering down the shore on both sides had increased dramatically. It didn't help that there were roads paralleling the river.