Get Off My L@wn - A Zombie Novel (20 page)

Ruth Ann was in Bill’s team.

Bill’s voice, “We are clear of the gates Barry.
Make them chase you. Good luck and see you back at camp.”

“Copy LT. The dead are almost to the street
leading to your gates. We are engaging and falling back slowly. We have their
full attention.”

The sound of automatic weapons wire almost
drowned out Barry Clark’s voice.

About a minute passed.

“LT we kept them under fire as long as we could.
There are still more coming. We haven’t seen any break off to follow you
through the gates. Who knows what they will do after we bug out. We are heading
south to Highway 12 and back to the Tree. Good luck sir.”

Bill clicked his mike in acknowledgment.

“Six this is Christmas Tree.”

“Go ahead.”

“Our latest picture shows you have passed the
main body. They are pooling at Kane and the main road. We see no movement into
the compound. I say again, no movement into the compound.”

“Understood.”

Ruth Ann continued the story from here:

“As we passed west along the wall we didn’t see
any zombies ahead of us. But Lim saw some coming out from behind tractor
trailers behind us. Apparently we were going fast enough to be past them before
they noticed.”

She continued, “As we got closer to the turn we
saw three statues in the far corner. They noticed us and perked up. Bill said
we would have to drop them because being so close to the road, their noises
might be heard on the other side.”

“Bill stood on the passenger seat and I stood in
the rear. We took out all three as we approached. It was so cool Doug you
should have been there.”

I gave my wife a fake half smile.

“When we made the turn slowly towards warehouse
three there was another small group coming towards the commotion. Lim, Bill and
I dropped them immediately.”

“These definitely weren’t workers from nearby.
The ghouls had been all sorts of people. These were leftovers from the Twin
Cities horde that passed through here. A lot of them were really far gone. Maybe
that is why they were still in the compound. That, and there were so many
twisty little turns and places to get lost in. By then I was convinced going
inside a building was a bad idea.”

“Bob made the sharp left slowly. As soon as we
saw the full area we saw just how big warehouse three was, plus a few more
walkers.”

“Bill ordered Bob to stop at the gates first.
While we, Bill and I, shot the ghouls we could see, Lim hopped out a shot the
locks off the gates and raised them for our escape route. We could see a
dribble of ghouls walking on the main road still headed east to Kane where the
crowd was milling.”

“I was looking at the few walkers passing by and
Lim must have been too because a ghoul crashed through the glass of the guard hut.
Just shattered it. I saw it an instant before it came through the glass and was
already yelling to Lim. The zombie fell out of the guard hut. Lim had a chance
to swing his weapon around to nail the gate crasher through the back of its
head.”

“That was close,” Lim said.

“Bill told Bob to head over to the warehouse and
to turn around facing the exit like we did before. Bob did that. When we
stopped, Bill said we had come a long way to give up without a look inside. He
said,”

“Lim, you’re with me. It isn’t ideal to go in
there with just you but Bob, you have to stay here with Mrs. Handsman. One
person can’t stay out here alone. Lim, we’re looking for anything that will
hold the plywood in place. Liquid Nails preferably. Failing that look for
masonry bits and  screws. Ruth Ann, do you have a drill? Something heavy duty?
Not cordless. Extension cords?”

“Yeah, we have plenty of cords and a drill.”

“OK. Stay in touch by radio. Bob, you’ve got
Mrs. Handsman. Lim you’re on me. Let’s go.”

Lieutenant Mancheski and Specialist Zsu
disappeared into the dimness of a series of covered loading bays. Inside they
saw one bay whose giant door was rolled up, easy access for them into the
warehouse and of course, the undead as well. Once inside the sunlight streamed
in from translucent panels making up the warehouse roof. Seeing the cavernous
interior well lit, the two soldiers felt a lift in their spirits.

That lift was immediately countered when they
saw how many aisles there were.

“There must be thousands of different products
in here. It wouldn’t be the first time I left one of this company’s stores
without finding what I needed,” Bill whispered.

“I’m not from around here LT. We don’t have
these where I’m from.”

The two stopped, back to back against the wall
near the door they entered. Silently they scanned for threats while listening
for any noise. There were irregular scraping noises and moaning come from
inside the warehouse. There were a number of forklifts and pallet trucks
nearby.

Quietly Lim said, “LT, on the forklifts.
Clipboards. Maybe they’re pick lists that tell the operators what to get and
where to get it.”

 Lt. Mancheski signaled his approval at Lim’s
observation and motioned to the closest forklift. They crept quickly to the
machine. They knelt back to back for a moment, listening. One of the moans was
a bit louder. Lim grabbed the clipboard. It was a pick list but contained
nothing useful.

They had many more forklifts to look at. This
area closest to the loading bays contained twenty-two aisles and was the narrowest
part of the building. The next forklift turned up nothing useful and neither
did the next. One moan kept getting louder.

Looking at the fourth forklift they could see it
was slightly off kilter. It seemed to sit with its far corner raised slightly.
The moaning was definitely coming from that machine. Bill touched Lim to get
his attention. He removed his fixed blade combat knife from its sheath and
motioned to himself. Lim readied to cover his Lieutenant.

As they got closer to the forklift, they readily
saw why it was canted. One wheel rested squarely on a zombie’s low back. It
clawed at the ground with its outstretched left arm. Its right arm was
motionless, squashed nearly flat by the forklift. It looked as though the heavy
back end had ridden up the length of the ghoul’s right arm, over its spine
coming to rest near its buttocks. The thing became aware of Bill as he got
close. Its head snapped from looking right towards the forklift to left to howl
at Bill. Bill’s combat knife entered the creature’s skull just behind its ear
and sliced downward towards its brain stem. It went silent and limp.

As Bill rose, withdrawing his knife, he saw a
clipboard on the floor of the cockpit. Looking through it, he found nothing of
help. “Oh for four,” he thought to himself. As he turned to signal Lim something
caught his eye. A thick dog-eared flipbook was attached to the machine’s safety
cage in reach of the missing driver’s right hand. Bill cut the zip tie that
held the flipbook to the cage. Thumbing through it, it was immediately clear it
was a complete catalog of the warehouse. He handed the flipbook to Lim and used
disinfectant swabs to clean his knife.

Lim said, “Concrete fasteners, aisle 71.”

“This is Six. We have located a warehouse
manifest. We’ll be heading deeper into the building. Bob, say your state.”

Bob’s voice returned, “We are in light but
steady contact, over.”

“And our guest?”

“Our guest is doing fine. She would make an
excellent sniper LT. Can we keep her?”

I breathed in deeply for the first time since
Ruth Ann’s vehicle went back into the compound alone.

“That’s a discussion for another day, Bob.
Christmas Tree, say updates.”

“Six this is Christmas Tree. Last pictures show
the crowd spreading out. There are walkers at the east entrance heading inside.
Over.”

“Understood. Say update on Mike Alpha?”

“Milwaukee A is deep into the minefield sir. Mr.
Christmas Tree says he can’t tell yet how effective it has been. Over.”

Off radio, Bill whispered “Ready? Aisle 71. Down
this aisle, we’ll see where it leaves us.”

As the two walked, Bill covering ahead of them,
Lim covering behind them, scraping sounds, and more moaning became louder. They
reached the next intersection to find themselves across from aisle 40,
construction shoes. They stopped to listen. Lim sipped water from his camel
back. They heard a soft tapping from the west. Bill peered around the corner in
that direction. A zombie stood five aisles down slowly rocking from foot to
foot but was otherwise quiescent.

Bill motioned to Lim one threat. Bill knelt by
the corner and readied his sound suppressed rifle. Leaning forward he took aim
and fired. As he did so, the zombie saw the movement and bellowed. Bill’s shot
took the ghoul out cleanly. But not without cost. From behind both sides of the
aisle five rows down came sounds of movement and moaning. With Lim at Bill’s
back covering their flank and rear Bill readied for more contacts.

A walker missing the left side of its face and
burns down its left side appeared followed by another Zeke.

“Puh. Puh,” spoke Bill. He tapped behind for
Lim’s attention and motioned to move out. They made their way down aisle 40
quickly. Noise in the building was picking up.

In their earpieces they heard Bob Wisnewski,
“LT, contact is ticking up. We’re still good. Hope you’re back soon.” Bill
clicked his mike in acknowledgment.

Arriving at the next intersection, they found
themselves looking at aisle 81. Now they needed to go west, still further away
from the door they had entered.

“Bob, Six. When we get to what we need we will
be at the northwest part of the building. Can you relocate there?”

“Affirmative. On the move.”

Bob turned to Ruth Ann and said, “Hold on, we’re
moving closer to the LT for pickup. Hold on and keep firing. Take my weapon.
It’s lighter.”

Ruth Ann put her longer-range rifle down to take
Bob’s assault rifle. Bob withdrew is sidearm and placed it in his lap as he
began to drive the car west. Ruth Ann engaged the walkers in their path.

Bill and Lim finally arrived at the promised
aisle with no further contact but noises were still getting closer. Each taking
a side of the aisle, they scanned for what they needed.

Lim found a pallet of long masonry screws. The
two paused while Lim used his combat knife to slice open the shrink-wrap
surrounding the pallet. He grabbed on case and looked to his Lieutenant. Bill
whispered, “I doubt they have masonry bits for their drill. Let’s keep looking
for the glue.”

Fifteen feet further down the aisle, they found
a pallet of Liquid Nails. Bill repeated the steps Lim had taken to extract two
cases of the product. He handed one case to Lim who put down the case of
masonry screws and reloaded his weapon. Each holding a case, zombies appeared
at both ends of aisle 71.

“LT. In position. Be advised it is a tight space
and we are in contact.”

On their way out now, Bill was less concerned
with stealth. Without whispering, “Lim, fire at will. Head north then turn
left.”

Lim began quickly firing double taps to make
sure the ghouls ahead of them went down permanently. Bill did the same with
those behind them.

“Reloading,” Bill shouted as they kept moving
for the doors on the west side of the building. When they reached the doors,
they found none open. Rather than trying the doors, Bill pulled a grenade from
his vest.

“Bob, are you clear of door 3 Golf? I’m going to
make a hole.”

“Affirmative.”

“Fire in the hole,” Bill yelled as he tossed the
grenade at the wall. Lim continued to firing as they both ducked behind cases
of BBQ potato chips. Bill had time to say, “Don’t ever tell anyone we used
potato chips for cover.”

The grenade blew door 3G open letting sweet
sunlight pour through the opening. Bill and Lim were on the move.

They ran across the railroad tracks to find Bob
and Ruth Ann waiting. Bob had already turned the vehicle around to head towards
the exit. Ruth Ann was firing methodically. Bill and Lim tossed their finds
into the rear of the car and hopped in. Bill shouted, “GO!”

Bob accelerated in the direction they had come.
Both Lim and Ruth Ann fired forward. Bill watched their flank and rear. As they
rounded a corner, a zombie appeared right at Bob’s side. With a quick motion,
Bob raised his 9mm and completely opened the skull of the ghoul. Almost to the
exit, Ruth Ann, Lim and Bill fired forward. There were many zombies in the area
now.

Unavoidably Bob had to run over several bodies
causing his passengers to hold on for dear life. Several zombies nearly reached
the open sides of the 4x4. Bob couldn’t spare a hand to use his sidearm. A
ragged claw grabbed a tenuous hold on Bob’s uniformed shoulder. Bill drilled it
with two rounds, the first splitting the ghouls arm in two the next nailing it
in the head as it fell behind. The claw hung on to Bob’s uniform for a moment
before falling off.

As they turned right with the exit immediately
before them, they had no choice but to ram the zombies blocking the lanes
ahead. Through the gate, the three shooters resumed firing. Thankfully, the
short street to the main road was only lightly filled.

Ruth Ann shouted, “I’m out. Give me another
weapon.” Now was not the time to learn the proper technique for reloading an
assault rifle. Bill exchanged rifles with Ruth Ann and reloaded what had been
hers during the short lull.

Turning right again onto the main road they saw
behind them a boiling mass of hundreds of undead too far back to be a threat.
Ahead of them were only a few, easy pickings for the three expert shots.

Soon, they were on Highway 12 heading home.
Moving quickly they needed to de-animate only a few undead.

They arrived at Christmas Tree barely an hour
after leaving.

W
hen they returned they were greeted by myself,
Barry Clark and John Rentmiesters both of whom had come back in the Volvo with
a dozen sheets of plywood.

I all but lunged at Ruth Ann and gave her a bear
hug. She gave me a brilliant smile and said, “It’s nice to be home. Let me
clean up and I’ll make some lunch.”

My wife went from zombie sniper to Betty Crocker
in a heartbeat. I was still standing there with my jaw hanging down when Bill
said, “You heard her, lunch!”

We ate watching the big screen results of the
mining south of Manitowoc. The size of the contour leaving the minefield was
considerably smaller than the one that went it. Behind the advancing, now
smaller horde, was a mass of slowly writhing pixels. I estimated the MA horde
at just 600,000 left. Just 600,000 zombies! It was shaping up to be a good day
in Lambeau Field.

The group left behind at the bend in the
Milwaukee River seemed to like it there. They weren’t moving much.

The band heading west towards French Island
continued to oblige by making themselves great targets for mortars and
gunships.

Everybody was having a great day.