Before Arthur could answer, Joseph did. “Jason, there’re too many and they’re too close together. Sutton is here trying but one thing’s for certain, more are coming from the south. This is only a guess, but from the north there’s like three hundred… From the south, about three times as many.”
Taking a deep breath, Jason let it out slow and turned to Arthur, holding out his hand. “It’s a good day to die,” Jason said.
Shaking Jason’s hand, “It may be, but I’m not in the fucking mood today,” Arthur responded. “Since we’ve been married, Wendy always promised me she would wax the taco. To date she never has, so I plan on making it out of this to hold her to it.”
Despite the situation, Jason busted out laughing. “Well, damn. That’s a promise a buddy has to help you see through, so I guess we have to put off dying for some other day.”
They both froze as Joseph sounded over their earbuds. “Will you two just climb a tree till we get there?!” Joseph called out.
Keying his radio, “Son,” Arthur said. “Donald can’t climb trees and I’m not hauling his hundred and fifty pound ass up, so fuck that. Adam may weigh less, but Jason isn’t in the mood to try and haul him up in a tree either.”
Reaching down, Jason patted Adam. “Yeah, they’re part of the family, and you don’t abandon family.”
The barking from the north grew louder and they turned. Two hundred yards away, a mass of dogs charged from the tree line barreling toward them and the two opened up with their rifles. Since they weren’t running anymore they just ejected magazines, letting them fall to the ground and slapped in new ones. In one minute, nearly two hundred dogs were hit causing the charge to stop, but Arthur and Jason didn’t stop shooting.
Under the withering fire, the dogs fanned out as another hundred were hit, and this made the dogs bound back toward the trees. As Arthur slapped in a new magazine he saw several dozens of dogs fighting and suddenly realized why. Taking aim, he shot a large dog in the gut as it was running away and the dog let out a yelp and lunged, attacking a dog that was close to it.
“You just figure that out?” Jason asked as the bulk of the north pack reached the trees.
“Sorry to say, but yes, I did,” Arthur said bending down to pick up his five magazines from the ground and pulling rounds from the bandolier.
Feeding in the stripper clips, Arthur saw the fights were breaking up as the wounded dogs limped for the trees. Arthur glanced over at Jason and did a double-take. Jason was reloading so fast his hands were a blur. Jason had fired six magazines and they were all reloaded before Arthur had two of his done.
Reaching over, Jason took one and reloaded it for Arthur. “How in the fucking hell can you reload that fast?” Arthur asked.
“It doesn’t do any good to learn how to shoot and fight if you can’t fucking reload during a fight,” Jason shot back, then reached over moving Arthur’s AR. “The suppressor was touching your pants and starting to smoke.”
Looking down at the black spot on his pants, “Catching fire would suck,” Arthur admitted, shoving his last reloaded mag back in the holster.
“Less than a minute!” Joseph called out, but they didn’t need the warning. The thundering sound of the barking was so loud now they could see the dirt around them vibrating.
A solid wave of dogs spilled out into the field and was greeted by 5.56 hollow points. In ten seconds, over sixty dogs were hit since some bullets passed through one dog to hit another. Not grabbing a magazine from his vest, Arthur grabbed a sixty from his thigh. Slapping it home, he flipped his selector to the rear and held steady.
Holding the trigger he just swept the line, causing an entire section to halt, but in three seconds his magazine was empty and he was ejecting it to slap in another sixty. When it was seated, he raked the line with full auto again, moving the arc of his fire along the line to hit as many dogs as he could.
Jason was on mag number five when Arthur slapped in the second sixty rounder and opened up. This caused the wave of dogs to falter and come to a stop. With Jason squeezing off rapid single shots and Arthur pouring steady streams of lead, the dogs realized they were dying really fast and survival instinct took over.
The pack turned, spreading out with some heading for the trees as the two kept firing. Feeling his bolt lock back, Arthur ejected the magazine and slapped in a new one hearing a growl from his side. Giving a glance, he saw Donald lunge away and lifted his gaze. Charging him from the north was what looked like a pit bull. Arthur didn’t get to see much more before nearly the entire head of the attacking dog was inside Donald’s mouth.
Donald whipped his head, tossing what looked like an eighty-pound dog around like a rag. Not seeing anything big coming, Arthur went back to work on the south side but flipped back to semi-auto. When he went to change again, he glanced over and froze. A Dachshund with its teeth bared was charging him.
Shifting his weight to punt the little wiener dog, Arthur gave a chuckle as Donald caught the wiener dog by the head and lashed around with it. “Don’t get off the porch unless you want to play with the big dogs,” Arthur mumbled as he opened fire again.
When Arthur slapped in another mag Jason reached over, stopping Arthur from opening back up. “Save the bullets. We still have a mile to go to reach the Suburban,” Jason told him.
About to object, Arthur looked down and saw only two loaded magazines in his vest. “I swear, you’re shooting some of my magazines,” Arthur said, reaching down and grabbing empties.
“I wish,” Jason grunted, grabbing his own. “That was smart thinking, going to full auto. That caused them to stop when so many started getting hit at once.”
“Never thought I would get the chance to use full auto with so many targets,” Arthur admitted, digging out another bandolier. “I hate to ask, but how many rounds do you carry in your pack?”
“A thousand, you?”
“Eight hundred, but I’ll start carrying a thousand,” Arthur answered, and looked over at Donald and saw there were six dead big dogs along with the pit bull and two dead smaller dogs with the Dachshund. “You’re getting a nice treat,” Arthur vowed.
“Your damn dog’s the size of a tank,” Jason laughed, and Arthur turned to see Adam sitting down by three dead dogs with throats missing around him and another five had been shot in the head. “Yes, I had to help Adam out because he can’t kill a dog by grabbing hold of the head and snapping the neck.”
“Donald learned that on coyotes,” Arthur said as he finished loading his magazines.
Grabbing his PTT, “Son, how bad is it going to the Suburban?”
“Not good,” Joseph answered. “How many bullets do you two still have?”
“We might have six hundred rounds between us.”
“You have five times that many dogs around you,” Joseph replied. “Between you and the Suburban, maybe five hundred.”
“Pops, let us try to get to you,” Shawn called over the radio.
“Shawn, that Suburban would flip over long before you could even get close and that’s if you could maneuver it through the trees,” Arthur told him. “Are dogs around you now?”
“Yes, sir, but only a couple of dozen.”
“What I want you to do is turn the Suburban around and you get in the back on the mini gun. Have everyone else aim out the windows and start shooting any dogs you see. When we get closer I’ll call out and no more shooting back along the ridge, but try not to shoot along the ridge unless you have to. We’ll be coming back the same way we left.”
Reaching over, Jason grabbed Arthur’s arm. “That’s all good but if Shawn doesn’t keep the dogs from massing between us and our ride, we’ll have to plow a road through.”
Nodding, “Yes, but the Suburban is armored and our little 5.56 won’t punch through it if we happen to miss,” Arthur pointed out. “That damn mini gun spits out four thousand rounds a minute and our vests won’t stop but a few if that’s where we’re hit.”
“I like your plan better than
mine,” Jason said. “You know, the largest pack of dogs we’ve seen up until now was like two, maybe three hundred, and we spotted it near Hector with the Predator UAV. It sucks that the first pack of thousands we see, we run up on and we’re on foot.”
“That shit won’t happen again,” Arthur vowed, feeling something cold on his neck. Reaching up, he felt his sweat-soaked hair that hung off the back of his head was frozen. Afraid to take his hat off in case his hair was frozen to it, Arthur motioned with his head that he would lead. Heading west as the slope still increased Arthur slowed, hearing a short ‘Brrrr’ off in the distance ahead of him.
“I figure we’re about three quarters of a mile from ‘em. What do you think?” Jason asked.
Another short ‘Brrr’ sounded ahead as Arthur scanned around and answered. “About that but more importantly, they’re four hundred feet higher than we are.”
Hearing another burst, “Shawn has great trigger control on the mini gun,” Jason commented.
Fighting not to shiver, “I reminded him how long it takes to reload every time we shot it,” Arthur said.
It was only when his gloved hand crunched his ice-encrusted hair that Arthur remembered it was cold outside. Now that his body was soaked in sweat, he felt the cold trying to creep under his clothes. Grabbing his shemagh, Arthur wound it around his neck and tucked it in his shirt.
The slope lessened and Arthur could see through the trees for over fifty yards, and that he didn’t like because if he could see that far, dogs would have no problem charging them. Before he could think of anything else to do that would help get him warm, Donald let out a low growl. Lifting his rifle, Arthur saw movement coming from ahead and on the left. “Eleven o’clock!” he called out.
When the red cross of his sight met the first bounding form, he squeezed the trigger and didn’t stop to watch the dog cartwheel down the slope. He continued firing as Jason called out, “Eight o’clock!”
Moving his aim from dog to dog, Arthur kept squeezing the trigger as the bounding forms got bigger and closer. Knowing he was close to empty and the dogs were nearly on top of him, Arthur ejected and slapped in a new magazine as the thundering bark of a 1911 sounded behind him. Arthur picked back up where he’d left off shooting the dogs and had all but five down before they reached twenty yards. Donald took off charging the group, and this caused the dogs to stop their charge and converge on him as Arthur felt his bolt lock back with the last shot.
Yanking his pistol, Arthur shot the one furthest to the right as a huge St. Bernard-looking dog locked up with Donald. In an instant Arthur knew the St. Bernard had the weight over Donald, but Donald was stronger. When the St. Bernard bit the sharp-studded collar around Donald’s neck it let out a yelp and let go, and Arthur had two more down. As the St. Bernard moved to back away from Donald, a .45 slug punched into its head, dropping the dog in its tracks.
Donald spun as another dog that looked to weigh about fifty pounds bit his back leg, and he latched onto the dog’s neck. The dog let go of Donald’s leg, trying to get away, but Donald spun again and the dog’s feet left the ground. Donald thrashed his head back and forth, beating the dog against the ground.
Shooting the last dog as it charged at Donald’s back, Arthur ejected his magazine and yelled, “Break!” Donald let the dog go in mid-thrash and the dog went sailing a few yards through the air. Before it hit the ground, two slugs hit its chest. When the dog landed, Arthur saw it was moving but not getting up, and he wanted to save what bullets he could.
Changing mags in his pistol, he holstered it and glanced around while lifting his AR and changing the empty mag. Seeing no movement to their front, he turned to see Jason gathering empty magazines, and a blood-caked Adam sitting down panting. It was only then that Arthur’s eyes registered numbers. There were over sixty dogs behind them that Jason and Adam had taken down.
Turning around, Arthur saw just as many dead or dying dogs that he’d taken down, but didn’t remember that many. “Dad, the trees are too thick where you are and I can’t see you, but I have a good idea where you are because I can see dogs heading up the slope for you!” Joseph called out over the radio.
Looking around at the large cedar and pine trees they were walking under, “You ready?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Bitch, I’ve been ready,” Jason shot back, and Arthur could hear Jason reloading.
“I’ll wait until you’re done before reloading my magazines,” Arthur suggested as he eased up the slope.
“Fuck that, I’ll load your shit. You take too fucking long,” Jason shot back, and Arthur felt Jason digging his empties out of the dump bag.
“Well, excuse me,” Arthur huffed. “I never thought I’d have more fucking targets than I had loaded magazines.”
“Now you know,” Jason replied, moving up and shoving the loaded magazine in Arthur’s vest and started on the next. “I’m thinking we make a Date Night and just kill some fucking dogs,” Jason suggested.
Liking the sound of that, Arthur had a thought and keyed his radio. “Joseph, what was in that field where the dogs were?”
“A herd of two hundred and thirty-four cows. Dead cows,” Joseph replied. “The dogs swarmed them so fast and with so many numbers, the herd never had a chance to circle up, and no, none got away.”
“Shit, that’s over three thousand dogs,” Jason said, shoving the last magazine in Arthur’s holster.
“I’m betting closer to five thousand,” Arthur replied, then swung to the right. “Two o’clock!”
He opened up and heard yelps of pain as rounds struck home. In twenty seconds, twenty-two dogs were hit and the rest stopped and bounded away. Changing magazines, Arthur heard Jason call out “Ten o’clock!”
Slapping the mag home, Arthur caught Donald looking back and he spun his head and saw another group charging. “Six o’clock!”
As Arthur opened up, “One o’clock!” Jason shouted and widened his arc of fire to start on the new group.
“Four o’clock!” Arthur shouted catching more movement, but the six o’clock group was now within thirty yards. With a dozen dogs still coming in the six o’clock group, again, Donald charged ahead. This time there were too many and they swarmed Donald, taking him down.
A small terrier didn’t join in and charged at Arthur who punted the mutt through the air. “Get off my goddamn dog, shit eaters!” Arthur screamed and charged ahead, shooting those at Donald’s back. When eight were down, Donald sprang up with a dog’s head in his mouth and he started thrashing it about.
Knowing he couldn’t help Donald anymore, Arthur turned to the four o’clock group as he slapped in a new magazine. “Shit,” he mumbled, as he started pulling the trigger as fast as he could aim. Thirty dogs were down in half a minute but at least that many were still coming, and they were only fifty yards away.
Just as Arthur opened up, a black form zoomed past him, charging the group. Squeezing the trigger rapidly and cutting down the wave, “Dammit, Daisy,” Arthur mumbled. Even though she was fifty pounds lighter than Donald, Daisy was still a formidable force and never hesitated in locking up with the biggest dog still alive.
Changing magazines, Arthur watched the mass of dogs swallow Daisy up and Donald charged over diving on the pile, yanking a dog off. Shooting the bodies that weren’t black and tan, Arthur whittled the numbers down until his bolt locked back and he yanked his pistol.
With the mass off her, Daisy was up with a dog’s throat in her mouth. Donald moved behind her and they fought back to back. This kept the other dogs at bay and Arthur took them out in ten shots.
“Twelve hours!” Jason screamed, and Arthur slapped in a new magazine and holstered his pistol as his brain told him dogs were coming from every angle.
“Donald, Daisy, heel up!” he called out, and as they came over he noticed both were limping but still moving fast. “I have the bottom half!” Arthur yelled out and started from the left at three o’clock and moved through an arc ending at nine o’clock. Changin
g magazines he reversed his field of fire, then again changing magazines when he reached six o’clock.
“Goddammit, Eve, it’s dead! Heel up!” Arthur heard Jason shout behind him and then heard Jason’s 1911 firing rapidly.
Seeing no end to the dogs still coming, Arthur yanked a sixty from his thigh as his bolt locked back. Slapping in the big magazine, Arthur went back to work. He felt Donald and Daisy leave his side, but couldn’t turn as he tried to stem the tide.
As he was changing magazines, Arthur felt fire in his calf. He looked down to see a dog latched on and thrashing about. “Fuck you,” Arthur said, pressing the barrel to the dog’s head and pulling the trigger. Before he could turn, he was hit from the side and Arthur went down as fur covered him. Letting his AR go, Arthur pulled his knife out and started slashing. Long yelps of pain sounded over the barks and howls around him, but Arthur heard none as he felt a dog bite through the fedora on his head.
Reaching back he slashed out, cutting deep on the side of the dog’s neck. With that, the dog let go and Arthur shifted his knife to his left as his right pulled his pistol. Not aiming, he just touched the barrel to the dogs still trying to pile on him.
He just kept moving his shots to bodies and as his brain screamed to reload, two large black bodies bowled into the mass that was trying to cover him. Arthur scrambled to his feet as Donald and Daisy bought him time to change magazines. Killing those closest, Arthur kept moving his aim, expanding out and changing magazines until he reached to his vest and didn’t feel any more pistol mags.
Dropping the 1911, he reloaded the AR and continued on, glancing over to see Donald and Daisy again, back to back. This kept the dogs closest to him busy and also from swarming Donald and Daisy. This gave Arthur the chance to kill those still coming. Aiming and firing, Arthur worked fast and then felt two forms rush past and into the group surrounding Donald and Daisy.
Adam and Eve moved to the center and joined Donald and Daisy as Jason moved to Arthur’s side. With both firing, the mass melted and more yelps of pain filled the woods. This caused the pack of dogs to pull back and bound off.
Viral Misery | Book 3 | Revelations Page 26