Eastern Front: Zombie Crusade IV (34 page)

As Carter led the fresh troops through the lines of the phalanx
, he was once again amazed at their discipline and self-control. There was no panic, and the soldiers were still communicating with one another as they waited to rotate back to the front line. They seemed happy to let Carter and the two squads through, but they did shout out advice and warnings as the clean fighters passed through the bloody ranks. Finally they approached the front line, the sergeant in charge of the squads shouting, “Rotate!” until the weary, gore-covered men in front gave one last heave forward before stepping toward the rear.

Carter instantly found himself faced with a snarling, short hunter that seemed to be nothing but muscle and pink scar tissue fueled by rage. The experienced soldier immediately punctured the creature through the face with the tip of his halberd, though for just a moment it seemed as if the flesh-eater made a grab for the shaft as the weapon approached. Carter killed two more before the third ducked the weapon, surprising Carter as much as it had Luke. Unlike the teen on top of the trailer, Carter had friends on each flank
, and from the left T.C. killed the beast before it could approach any closer. Still, the hunters were apparently continuing to evolve in mind and body, making them even more dangerous than the last time Carter was in this type of situation.

Being fresh and full of anxious energy, Carter and his two squads refused to rotate to the rear when the next group called them back. He still had plenty of fight left in him, and hoped the exhausted troops were taking good advantage of the break they were getting. The line actually gained a few steps until a hunter jumped from the trailer and landed on the soldier guarding the right flank
. Carter managed a quick visual scan and saw that there was no way troops on the road could advance beyond the line being held on the trailer. As he went back to killing flesh-eaters, he mentally slapped himself for not placing an entire platoon up there to begin with, both to hold the position and kill hunters from the flank. Once again, he was learning command lessons through the bloodshed of soldiers entrusted to his care.

Finally, after almost half an hour of successful, sustained combat on the front line, Carter led his squads to the rear where he could consider their next move. The man who’d been jumped from the trailer was dead with a broken neck, and another had been pulled into the mass of attacking hunters and disappeared. Eighteen, slightly battered soldiers were all Carter had to work with. He returned to his observation post and looke
d over the situation once again. He saw that the phalanx had been forced to pull back a few steps because the line on top of the trailer was losing ground. Carter ordered the sergeant to lead nine men up there to help Luke out, and now there were ten soldiers, including Carter, remaining in the rear guard to cover a retreat. That wouldn’t be enough.

CHAPTER
20

One of Chad’s most trusted soldiers, a young man named Shane, was piloting the cabin cruiser as it rocketed up the Tennessee River. Maddy and Zach, armed only with binoculars, were serving as spotters for Chad, who was personally manning the .50 cal on this mission. As the dam came into view, Maddy shouted that Carter’s troops were still holding the road, but barely. Drawing closer, they could all see how the defenses had been arranged, and they marveled that the horde had been slowed down enough for the humans to fight back this time.

Zach finally shouted, “There’s a chopper on both flanks along the shore, and another out over the dam.”

Maddy looked at Chad, “Let’s go for that one, Sarge.”

“The bird over the dam? One of those choppers back over the horde is probably the command bird; we should probably go for one of those.”

“Sarge, I’m pretty sure that one over the dam is the same Blackhawk that turned the hunters on the walls back at Brandenburg. The monsters attacked without any of ‘em even seein’ us.”

Chad scratched his head. “You sure? They all look the same to me.”

“Will you just trust me, Sarge? Please?”

Chad held his hands up in supplication, “All right, honey, let’s go after the loner over the dam.”

Maddy bit her tongue, though she wanted to point out that Chad never called any of his other soldiers “honey.” Trusting her judgment about the helicopters made up for the old sergeant’s unintentionally condescending remark.

Shane pulled the boat up close, and Chad got comfortable with the Barrett. Maddy and Zach were glassing the target. They were all in the cabin, as was the muzzle of the sniper-rifle, in an attempt to keep the helicopter pilots from locating the source of the fire. The first shot made everyone jump except Chad, who knew it was coming. A few seconds later, Maddy and Zach both reported that there was no sign of a hit, and the chopper was still hovering. A second shot roared, and this time Zach excitedly declared, “Sparks flew at the base of the rotor! I think you hit it that time.”

Chad adjusted his sight and settled back into his perch, aiming for half a minute before the cabin shook once again.

“Alright!” Zach shouted. “Alright, Alright, Alright!”

“What happened?” Chad yelled as he chambered another round.

Maddy was awestruck. “Oh my God—I think you hit it!”

Zach had pulled the binoculars from his face and was wearing a huge grin. “Hell yes, you hit it! I saw a big hole in the cockpit glass on the pilot’s side.”

“It’s going down!” Maddy screamed with delight.

The four soldiers all stopped what they were doing and looked out the windows of the cabin just in time to see the Blackhawk spiraling out of control as it disappeared on the other side of the dam.

“Shane, take me closer to the other two.” Chad commanded.

  “I would, Sarge, but they’ve pulled way back.”

Chad grabbed a pair of binoculars and took a look for himself. Sure enough, the choppers near the shoreline had pulled back nearly a kilometer. Realizing they were sitting ducks on the river, with no way of knowing how many boats were on the other side of the dam, Chad considered the mission accomplished.

“Shane, I’m hopin’ the folks in those choppers can’t tell who fired on ‘em.” Chad smiled broadly, “But just in case, get us the hell outta here.”

The relatively fresh squad sent to reinforce the trailer helped stem the tide there, but the phalanx was rapidly losing steam even with a protected right flank. Carter grabbed the radio.

“Luke?”

“This is Luke,” The radio squawked after a long moment.

“Get your troops off that trailer! The phalanx is a meter from the back of it. You gotta get outta there, NOW!”

“Holy crap, Carter—did you see that?”

“See what? I need you outta there!”

“That lead chopper just crashed behind the dam,” Luke enthusiastically shouted.

“Good news, but that ain’t gonna save us. Get movin’!” Carter was sounding almost frantic.

“Chill,” Luke replied calmly, “and check out the front.”

Carter put his eyes to his binoculars and saw a miracle unfolding before him. The phalanx was in the process of pushing back the hunters, and most of the flesh-eaters climbing gingerly over the dam had stopped in place. The horde was still on the shore, right up against the collapsed road atop the dam, but they seemed to be milling about rather than pushing forward as they had been doing all morning.

“What the hell . . .” Carter whispered to himself.

Even Luke seemed awed as he called over the radio, “Orders, sir?”

Carter shook himself out of his daze. “The trailer, Luke, I want a platoon with pikes up there with you. I’ll handle things down here.”

“You think they’ll be back?” Luke wondered.

“Ya’ll know the answer to that.”

Luke was quiet for a moment, “Yeah, they’ll be back. Something on that chopper that went down was pushing them forward, but you can be sure they have a backup.”

“Yep, that’s what I was thinkin’. Get that platoon up there, and try to get ‘em to eat somethin’.”

“Yes sir, Luke out.” 

The soldiers in the phalanx all had time to take a knee, tend to their wounds, and scarf down an MRE. Gore-covered as they were, the energy they’d expended over the past three hours demanded that they refuel their bodies, so that’s what they did. Luke pulled the platoon that had suffered the most losses and positioned them on top of the trailer with explicit instructions.

“I screwed up the first time around; we have to hold this trailer in strength in order to protect the phalanx. Half of us will kill the monsters trying to climb the front, while the rest of us will assault the hunters attacking on the road. Make sure we have plenty of extra pikes up here and pile your shields at the front of the trailer, then make sure you eat while you have a chance.”

One of the Utah sergeants spoke up, “You think they’re coming back?”

Luke shook his head. “No, Sergeant, I know they’re coming back.”

After making sure that his orders were being followed on top of the trailer, Luke made it known that he was going back to see Colonel Wilson. Not wanting to lie, he did check in to see how Carter was faring and to discuss their good fortune concerning the crashed Blackhawk.  With no way to know what caused the chopper to go down, they both agreed it was unlikely to happen again. Luke wished Carter good luck, then began walking through the ranks of the phalanx. The westerners had seen him in action
, and he’d watched them. A great measure of respect had been earned by both parties that morning.

Luke slowly made his way past the troops, stopping occasionally to share a few words of encouragement. Most of the Utah men knelt with their helmets pushed back, sharing MRE packets with one another and telling stories of the morning’s combat. Luke saw that they still had hope in their eyes, most of them not realizing just how close they’d come to disaster before the hunter attack stalled. Many of the troops asked if the monsters would resume their assault, and Luke assured them that the flesh-eaters would come again. When he reached the front line, he found a group of officers looking over the rubble and corpse-strewn dam. They were talking about the heaping mound of dead just beneath the jagged edge of the blown road. They quieted as he approached, one of them calling out, “Thanks for the cover up there, sir.”

Luke resisted the urge to tell the officer not to call him sir. Instead, he nodded and complimented the men on their resilience. “All of you were outstanding this morning; your discipline and deadliness were really incredible.”

The officers just smiled and averted their eyes, not certain how to respond until a captain said, “Thank you, sir. I assure you that the feeling is mutual.”

Luke pointed out over the dam, “They’ll be coming again, soon. They won’t stop this time.”

“What stopped them last
time, sir? We were steadily losing ground.”

Luke shook his head slightly, “Something to do with that Blackhawk going down—we’ve seen it before.
In Kentucky, we kept the choppers away and the monsters poured right off the bridge. Maybe bringing this one down stopped them somehow—maybe the explosion scrambled the signal.”

The officers all nodded as Luke explained, “I’ve got a platoon on top of the trailer this time; we’ll cover your flank from up there. Hopefully it’ll help you hold the line down here.”

Luke gestured with his chin toward the other side of the chasm filled with corpses at their feet. “I’m going over there to have a better look around.” He pointed to a relatively stable, large piece of asphalt lying flat upon a bed of crushed, iron pylons. “That’s a good spot to check things out.”

The Utah officers looked aghast as Luke started walking away. The captain carefully asked, “You’re going over there? By yourself?”

Luke looked back over his shoulder and nodded nonchalantly before he reached the edge of the road and began carefully stepping out upon the mound of dead hunters.

“Sir, why are you taking such a risk?”

Luke sounded confident and determined when he replied, “There’s something I have to do out there.” So many corpses were crushed into this gap that he was able to walk across to the slab without falling into the hideous gore squishing beneath his boots. When he reached the chunk of asphalt, he pulled himself up on top of it, wondering how many thousands of hunters had crossed the same rubble that morning before the attack was disrupted. Now he had placed himself between the relative safety of the phalanx and more than a hundred thousand flesh-eaters. He placed a pike and a halberd at his feet, their wicked spear tips pointed toward two monsters cowering on a mound of twisted, iron beams just ten meters away. The creatures eyed him with hungry malevolence, moaning and snapping in agitation when they saw Luke, but too worried about the possibility of falling from the dam to actually attack the lone human standing so close. Luke just smirked in their direction as he unhooked an extra quiver of arrows he’d found scattered on the roof of the trailer and set it next to the other weapons. Then he calmly strung his bow, pulled two fresh arrows from his last, untouched quiver, and shot each monster through the face before watching them tumble into the waters far below.