He moved his rifle so it was up against Liam's sternum. Liam tried to move his body so he could grab his pistol in his hip holster, but he had sunk further between the two trunks and his arms were wedged at his side. It would be comical if it wasn't going to be the cause of his death.
Liam struggled hard, almost getting one of his arms free. He reached for his holstered gun, which was in clear view of the man. Liam didn't care. He wasn't going to die without trying to defend himself.
“Nice try, kid. I guess I'll just take the gun.”
The man pulled his rifle backward off his chest and took careful aim at Liam's face again.
An inane thought sputtered out of Liam's head.
Did he back up so he wouldn't get blood on the muzzle?
Liam's closed his eyes.
Crack! A gunshot from very close by.
On reflex, his eyes opened. The man had not fired.
A second shot.
His chest opened up. A loud gunshot clap immediately followed.
The man looked up to someone behind Liam, surprised.
“You? Nawww.”
Then eight or ten continuous cracks of gunfire.
The survivalist sprouted several more holes in his chest. All Liam could see was the big hole of the barrel of his gun wobbling over his chest. Was something deadly going to reach out and zap his own life? Finally, with no fanfare, the man tipped over backward.
Liam was well and truly stuck. Even with one arm free, he was wedged so completely in the uneven space he couldn't get leverage to move himself. He was so tired. All he could do was wait.
He was shocked when a woman came into view.
“Liam, thank God!”
Victoria! Thank God indeed.
His exhaustion conspired with the release of adrenaline and he teared up involuntarily. He couldn't help himself. His mythical hero status was very much in doubt.
5
Victoria pushed and pulled Liam so he could shimmy out of his prison, and held him close.
“I saw you back down the valley when you came across with Mr. Lee—I mean Lee. I tried to catch up to you. I almost caught you when you met up with this loser,” she gave the man on the ground a little kick “and something told me to hold back. So, instead of running up to you, I ran up a little higher on the hillside here so I could watch. I saw you for a while but lost you in this clump of trees. When you didn't come out, I knew something was wrong. I made my way closer just as he threw you down. I wanted to run in screaming and shooting, but he was pointing his gun right at your chest. I don't know how I held my fire now that I think about it. But he pulled back for some reason and I took that as my cue. I remembered what you taught me, and I aimed for the biggest part of his body. I missed him the first shot, but I hit him with the second. When he didn't fall down, I opened up. I think I missed half of the shots, but I got him with the other half.” She laughed nervously.
“I was so scared, Liam.” She was in tears too.
“I wish we could curl up together in one of these empty tents...but we have to get into the fight. Can you believe this is really happening?”
“I know; this doesn't seem real. These duck hunters. The zombies. That freak storm. Everything seems fake.”
Liam picked up his rifle and the ammo he dropped, and he also grabbed the gun from the survivalist and slung that one over his shoulder. He searched the man for extra ammo or other supplies, but he had none. Just what was in the magazine he was carrying.
Has a human's worth really been reduced to the number of bullets he can carry?
As an afterthought, Liam searched the man's pockets.
“This guy talked like he was important. He might have something on him which would help us figure out who he worked for.”
But other than minimalist survivalist gear—a fork/spoon combo, waterproof matches, and so on—he had nothing of importance in terms of intel on his upper body. Liam did find a sheet of paper tucked into a cargo pocket on one of his pant legs. His pants were covered in mud and filth, but the pocket itself was clean.
He pulled it out and unfurled it. “Well, that makes perfect sense.” He read the names on the sheet. “Liam Peters. Lana Peters. Jerry Peters. This must be the list my parents mentioned. They said their names were on it, but they didn't mention mine.”
They were the only remaining names on a list consisting of three neat computer-printed columns. The other names had deep black lines through them, as if they'd been redacted. They were unable to read any of them. Next to Liam's name someone wrote in “kill or capture,” while it only said “kill” next to his parents’ names. At the end of the list, one name was hand-written in the margin. It was Victoria's. Rather than kill or capture, it simply said “known accomplice.”
They both crouched in silence. He wasn't sure what to say, though after having a gun pointed at his face, he felt better than he imagined he should. He folded the sheet and put it in his pocket.
“We have to keep moving. We'll look at this later.”
They were off and running once again. As exhausted as he was, Liam felt that extra “something” he always felt when Victoria was around. It pushed him to keep going.
“Thanks for saving me, by the way. It's almost old hat now, huh?” They both laughed at the dark humor as they reached the first group of fighters on their journey back down the valley.
This was a group of about ten men and women, all with rifles. Most of the civilian campers had been cleared of this part of the valley, so they were free to shoot at will at any of the zombies coming out of the creek. The creek was a bit steeper here though, so not many zombies made it out. They were going elsewhere...
Liam made a command decision.
“Hey guys, can a couple of you come with me further down the valley? I'm sure there are more zombies down that way.”
Several of them looked at each other with the “stay here where it's quiet or go to where it’s dangerous” expression, but in the end, three volunteers stepped forth.
More running.
They reached the next strong point. This time there were about twenty shooters in a rough line fifty yards long. Liam spotted the survivalist immediately; he was hiding behind a large tree and shooting at the approaching wall of zombies.
He turned to Victoria, and spoke quietly. “What do we do with that survivalist? I can't just go over there and kill him, though that seems to be what they want to do to me. I don't know how to deal with this.”
Victoria seemed to ponder the situation, but Liam was disappointed she didn't provide a solution.
He settled on, “We should keep going down the valley.”
The sound of gunfire was overpowering now. Liam yelled but Victoria signaled she couldn't hear him, so he grabbed her and pulled her along, much as Lee had done for him.
He kept an eye on the survivalist character as he ran behind him in the cover of the woods, but the man made no effort to follow him or even look at him.
I guess it would be too much to expect him to leer at me like a hungry wolf as I ran by.
In his mind's eye, he saw that very image. He ran a little bit faster until they were clear of the whole group. Victoria stuck close behind.
They stopped about a hundred yards down the valley to rest and evaluate. He saw a couple zombies amongst the mélange of tents and tarps out in the valley. Surely there were more lurking out there, but it was hard to see all the way across the littered field.
He dropped to one knee, lined up his shot, and missed the closest zombie. Even with the small red-dot scope he was unable to make a second or third shot. He was shaking too badly.
Soon the two zombies moved in their direction.
“How is it I'm scared to death of these two zombies after seeing hundreds pour out of the woods earlier?”
Victoria responded by shooting the two zombies at twenty-five yards. It took her several shots for each one, but she got the job done.
“Liam, you were just in a traumatic situation
back there. It's OK to be scared. Let's go find our friends.”
They slung their rifles, she took his hand, and they jogged together toward the main fight taking place further down the valley. In a few minutes, they found it.
Liam's shaking wasn't getting much better so they decided to use tree branches on the edge of the woods to steady his aim.
Zombies were much thicker here, but so were the shooters. Liam and Victoria were able to contribute as part of a group of about two dozen men and women lined up along the edge of the woods. Behind the line, women, children, and unarmed men made their way up the steep hillside out of the valley. The recent rain showers made the leaf-covered slope a slippery mess. Lots of people sat on the ground at various points, apparently unable to go further. Others helped as best they could. Several elderly people waited right at the bottom.
Liam had a vision of Grandma sitting there. It helped him refocus his energy on protecting them by shooting zombies in the valley.
Zombies scared Liam to death, there was no doubt about that. But under concerted fire by dozens of semi-skilled shooters in fixed positions, the zombies couldn't make much progress. It was no more than 100 yards from the creek to the woods, which was nothing for a scoped rifle and a skilled marksman.
Liam needed them to get in a lot closer before he was able to half-reliably shoot a zombie in the head to put him down for good. After several shots, he noticed his scope had come loose and clanged loudly on the AK's top cover with each shot. That was part of his aiming problem.
Minutes went by. Liam squeezed off his first magazine of thirty rounds. He'd already used a few rounds earlier. The second mag went quickly because a small clump of zombies had found its way directly in front of Victoria and himself. The third magazine was depleted a couple minutes later. He soon had only one magazine left.
And our pistols. Ha!
He studied the number of zombies; they weren't going to have enough ammo. Even with his pistol and whatever was in the extra rifle on his back, he wouldn't have enough. A few other shooters had stopped too. Things would snowball quickly if fewer and fewer guns were fired.
In the space of a minute, he un-slung the survivalist’s rifle he salvaged, fired off twenty or so rounds, and it was empty. He had no more ammo for it so he set it down next to him.
“We aren't going to make it. Look up the hill at all those people. We're running out of ammo down here. We need a movie rescue to happen. Marines. An air strike. Something!”
Close by, one of the shooters shouldered his rifle and lifted a piece of wood off the ground.
The spears!
The spears were a Boy Scout specialty.
“We have to find some spears!”
There were lots of spears not far from their position. Up the hill behind them, all along the ridgeline, Lee had put checkpoints for the outer perimeter of the camp. One of those points had to be close by. Lee mentioned they stored lots of spears in each checkpoint as part of their overall defense against the infected.
“We have to get to the top of this hill and get spears from the nearest checkpoint.”
His throat ached as he yelled into the pandemonium of the gunfire, but he had to tell the men and women fighting down here they had to get up the hill to swap their gunpowder for spear power in order to survive this onslaught. Even knives would require getting in biting range of the monsters.
They seemed to understand the word “spears” while he was pointing up the hill and pointing at the man nearby holding his wooden weapon. In return, he got various thumbs-up signs and they began to peel off the firing line to go up.
Liam and Victoria retreated toward the muddy hill.
6
They were met by a dour gaggle of elderly loitering at the base of the incline. There were ten or twelve people, mostly women, who had apparently decided not to climb to the summit. Many of the fleeing shooters saw them, hesitated, then ran on when the women shook their heads vigorously in the negative. As Liam arrived, he had to stop.
“You have to try to get to the top.” He shouted it as loud as he could. The moans and yells of the zombie horde was all-encompassing.
The closest old woman calmly shook her head no. She made no effort to move, or speak. He realized they were all praying. Several had Rosaries in their hands. A couple grasped the crosses on their necklaces. One ancient man wore a yarmulke.
It was too much for Liam. His emotions churned like the battle around him. He was distraught to see these people were destined to die in this dirty forest.
“Liam. We—” Victoria choked on her own words, “we have to go. We can't save them.”
A firm hand pulled him away to follow the other young people. He hated himself for thinking the deaths of the elderly would give him a head-start on his own escape.
The muddy leaves were much worse than they appeared from the bottom. He imagined himself in a movie scene where the monsters pursue an ever-slowing hero in a bladder-loosening chase. Without any path up the hill, they had to lunge from sapling to sapling to keep from slipping back down.
“Victoria, don't look back. Just climb.”
The gunfire fizzled out behind and around them.
The screams at the bottom began.
I'm so sorry. I really am.
“Don't look back. I'm serious!”
He made sure she was ahead of him. Any other time, he would be happy to have such a nice view, but not today. He wanted to catch her if she fell. If he missed, she might end up dead. That meant they both would die...
Liam didn't take his own advice. When he had the chance, he looked back. Some of the last gunslingers struggled up the hill, the same as him. There were only a few. Thirty or forty dirty zombies at the vanguard of the horde started their way up, too. They were clumsy, but indefatigable.
The race was on.
“Victoria—”
“Let me guess! Don't look back?” She laughed, but Liam recognized it as her nervous and slightly fatalistic laugh. Perfectly appropriate for this situation. But she was also stubborn. She grabbed a stout tree and turned herself around.
Did her knees just buckle? I thought that was just a cliché?
She said nothing, but climbed again. Liam followed. Several times they helped struggling campers stuck on the slope, but there were fewer and fewer living humans around them.
The slope grew less steep up top, and they were able to run. To their dismay, they passed more and more campers who reached the top ahead of them, but stood around doing nothing. They looked exhausted. It would take no time at all for the zombies to chase down these people.
They reached the small Scout checkpoint and finally had a piece of good luck. Scouts were already there, working on getting spears into hands of those who could fight. Many boys were on the ground, frantically whittling more spears.
“Can we make a stand?”
“We have to try,” Victoria answered.
Liam yelled, “We need spears. There are still people stuck on the hill, and the zombies are right behind them.”
A boy nodded, then tossed him two spears from his dwindling stockpile.
“Make them count.”
He returned the nod.
“Gather your spears and come with us!” Liam yelled it to no one in particular, but was pleased to see a dozen or so men and Boy Scouts joined up.
“We're going back down this hillside to try to engage the zombies before they can get a footing on solid ground. If we can get them while they're still climbing, we might have a chance.” He wasn't sure if he learned that in one of his books, or through real world experience. Things were starting to blend together.
No one argued, though a couple of the men instead ran with their spears down the backside of the hill, away from the zombies, to points unknown.
Liam couldn't bring himself to curse them. Part of him envied them.
Instead, he and his compatriots ran toward the battle, hurtling themselves into the transition zone between the muddy hillside a
nd the more stable hilltop. They didn't have to wait long.
A few of the last survivors from the shooting line made it up mere feet ahead of the pursuing zombies. They looked wrecked as they crawled by. No one was going to make them stay and fight.
They spread out as best they could, found comfortable fighting positions, and waited for a few moments before the first climber arrived. It came up under one of the grown men. With one skilled poke, he skewered the face of the assailant.
Then a few more reached the line. Liam still didn't have one in his area, but Victoria did. She tried to reach out to the zombie, but she unceremoniously lost hold of her spear and it fell down the hill.
Liam thought he caught her cussing, but he wasn't sure.
She began climbing out again, but the zombie she missed lunged and grabbed her leg, causing her to fall and start backsliding.
Liam didn't hesitate. He was doing it almost before he thought it.
Un-sling rifle.
Bring to bear.
Aim.
Shoot.
Miss.
Shoot.
Miss.
Aim center of mass on the zombie.
Hit.
It didn't kill the zombie, but if a zombie could be surprised—this one acted surprised. He let go of Victoria and she climbed once again. Another woman piked the zombie.
He re-slung his rifle, glad he didn't expend all his ammo down at the bottom.
He then got to business on the zombies closing in on his fighting position.
The next hour was a mental fog.
He remembered seeing Victoria come back into the fray with a fresh spear.
He remembered seeing several of his allies get grabbed as Victoria did. Each time he would un-sling his rifle and try to help the victims. A few times he got lucky, but he had to admit hitting moving targets was not as easy as they made it seem in the movies. Several people were bitten and pulled down the hill. Eventually he did run out of ammo. He wanted to save some in case Victoria needed help again, but he knew he couldn't sit doing nothing if someone else was in similar trouble. His last bullet saved the life of one of the other women fighting on the line with them.
Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7 Page 72