Taking It Back (13 page)

I thought about where we were going to go to from here, what the overall plan was. In a way I felt like I needed to move quickly, that if I didn’t have something set up soon everything I had worked for and people had died for would unravel. I could just hang it all up and disappear with Jake and take our chances with the dead world, but that would be selfish. Jake didn’t ask to be born into this mess and it was my duty as a father to do what I could to make sure he survived. I made a mental promise to him that I was not going to roam for a long time and just spend my time making the community we lived in as good as it could be. For the moment, it was the best I could do.

The radio on my belt crackled and Charlie’s voice came softly over the airwave.

“Hey, John?”

I fumbled with the radio in the dark, having a hard time getting it off my belt, and bumping my elbow on the side of the container. I cringed at the sound and hoped like hell no zombies heard it. “Hey, Charlie.” I replied just as softly, my words echoing slightly in the dark container. “Good morning.”

“Has the Sheriff called you yet?” Charlie seemed anxious.

“Not yet, why?”

“I think the Z’s know I’m in here.”

“Really? How do you know?” I thought it illogical for Charlie to be talking to me if he thought zombies were within earshot of his hidey-hole.

“Something keeps moving back and forth outside the container and I keep hearing sounds like digging.” Charlie’s voice seemed strained and I could only imagine what he was thinking. Being trapped inside a metal box while the dead waited for you was like already being buried. You had nowhere to go and death was outside the door. Better to put a bullet in your own head than starve to death or be eaten by zombies.

“Hang tight.” I tried to sound reassuring. “I’ll let you know when I get the signal to come out and start the festivities, whether or not you have anything to worry about.”

“Okay. Make it soon, alright? The digging started again and it’s driving me nuts.”

“Done,” I said, replacing the radio on my belt. If my watch was right, we should have some information soon.

Ten minutes later
,
the radio crackled again. “Talon?” Sheriff Harlan’s voice came through. “You still there, you crazy bastard?”

I brought the radio up, more careful not to make noise this time. “Yep. Ready when you are.” I adjusted my gear in the dark. “How’s it look out there?”

“Well, I guess we have ourselves a regular dust up, no question about it. We got the people laying low like you said and nobody is shooting until I give the signal.”

That was part of the plan. The zombies could smell the living, but if they didn’t see them they would not attack in earnest. If we could keep them from massing at a single point, the fence stood a better chance of holding them off. But we needed to keep them away from the fence. Eventually they were going to try and force their way in, but not right now if I could help it.

I hit the send button. “How’s the area around me?” I was ready to get out and get to work.

“Just fine, the worst has passed and they are now spreading out along the fence,” the sheriff reported.

“Any activity around the blue container?” I asked. “Charlie said he was hearing digging sounds.”

“Nothing on this side. His door is clear.”

“Okay, thanks. I’m heading out.” I wondered what Charlie had heard.

“Hey, John?” the radio started again.

“Yeah, Tom?”

“I was told to give you a message.”

“Was it from a smallish, green-eyed woman with a gun?”

“Yep. Consider it
sent
. Harlan out.”

I chuckled in the dark. Sarah was pissed and I really couldn’t blame her. I imagine Charlie was going to get an earful as well if we lived through this.

I stepped up to the door and unlocked the chain I had wrapped around the door poles on the inside of the container. Normally these containers had all the locking mechanisms on the outside, but since I was in and wanted to keep things out, it presented a small problem. Fortunately, we were able to secure the doors and I opened one cautiously and looked out. There was no one in front of me and trusting to Harlan’s assessment of the situation, I assumed there was no one where I couldn’t see them.

I stepped out into the open and pulled out the small stepladder I had brought with me to the container. Charlie had one as well and I used it to quickly get up on the container. The ladder was little more than four feet tall, but it got me on top, which was where I needed to be. I hauled up a small duffle bag, which contained my ammunition, and slowly walked to the end of the container.

From my vantage point, I could see the mass of zombies milling about the fence. My original estimate had been around two thousand. Looking at the horde in front of me, I figured I was short by at least a thousand or two. I let out a long breath, then started to set up for my job.

I laid out my rifle, a scoped AR-15, and placed all the magazines I had within easy reach. Thanks to Charlie finding ammo at State Center Bravo, I had five hundred rounds with which to work. I only had six forty-round magazines, so some reloads were going to be necessary, but that didn’t worry me too much.

I placed my backpack on the container, intending to use it as a rest for my sniping. The zombies were effectively three hundred yards away, and I needed every advantage I could get. I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and looked over at Charlie’s container. A small dog was sniffing around the base and scratching at whatever it was dogs scratched at when they wanted something. I laughed at the thought of big Charlie being afraid of a rat terrier.

I clicked on the radio and called Charlie into action. When he asked about the noise, I told him just to get in place and not worry about it. Within a few minutes, Charlie was on the top of his container, set up the way I was. Charlie doused the dog with water from his canteen and it ran off. In all honesty, the dog actually astonished me, since I hadn’t seen one since the Upheaval. Most family pets had been devoured when the worst hit and their owners turned and the few in yards had been eaten as well. That little guy must have managed to escape and was living wild. Good luck, buddy.

Our activity had attracted the attention of a few zombies and they started to head back in our direction. They would be first.

I settled down and sighted in my first kill. It was a man in a threadbare business suit, missing one shoe and most of his face. His left eye hung out of its socket and bounced crazily as he took staggering steps across the field. I let out a breath and pulled the trigger. The rifle cracked loudly as the .223 round punched through the air and penetrated the man’s grey forehead. The back of his head blew outward and he dropped backwards, his eyes finally seeing nothing. The smartass part of me wondered if his left eye was relieved from seeing nothing but feet.

The shot turned heads and the group started towards me in earnest. I shifted my aim and started to work, shooting the ones closest to me and working my way backwards. It got a little gross as the zombies got closer, not only from looking close up at dead faces and shooting them, but the ones who had fallen were pulped by hundreds of feet squishing them into the ground. Several of the ghouls were falling down, tripping over permanently dead comrades. I missed a few shots that way, aiming at a head that suddenly dropped out of sight just as I pulled the trigger.

I changed magazines when the first one went dry, adjusted the power on the scope, and went back to work, dropping the Z’s as they got closer and closer. The mass of the horde started to shift my way and I was going to be facing a real dilemma soon.

When I ran out of magazines, I had left about two hundred zombies dead on the grass. They were about fifty yards from me and closing in. I worked my way back along the container, taking my supplies with, then dropped back on the ground. I tossed the materials back into the container, then scooted inside. I secured the door and waited.

Sure enough, Charlie started his killing, which was designed to draw the mass away from my container over to his. I sat on the floor reloading magazines while outside zombies died. The light from my flashlight was accented by sunlight as some of Charlie’s rounds penetrated the sides of the container. That was why I was on the floor.

After about ten minutes of constant firing, the shots faded away, and I figured Charlie had beat a retreat like I had done. I waited to hear the next round of shots, and sure enough, there they were. Sheriff Harlan had gathered everyone with a scoped rifle to the wall and had stationed them at intervals. They were to pick up the firing once Charlie and I had ducked for cover. I waited until I had counted about one hundred shots, then called the Sheriff on the radio.

“Sheriff—Talon here. What’s the situation?”

The radio hissed and then I heard, “Not bad. You look cleared to go.”

“Thank you. See you topside.”

I checked in with Charlie and he said he was reloaded and ready to go.

I shrugged into my backpack, making sure my weapons were ready and spare magazines were within easy reach. My hand tool was set and my SIG was topped of with a fifteen round magazine. I pushed open the door and walked right into the middle of five zombies. From his location on the fence, Sheriff Harlan couldn’t have seen them.

Decaying hands reached for me as the sounds of hungry moans filled my ears. I had no retreat as one moved in between me and the door of the container. I ducked as grasping hands reached for my neck and I swung my rifle in a wide circle, knocking three of them off their feet. I stood up and a zombie girl grabbed the strap of my backpack and pull me close for a bite. I didn’t give her the chance as I slammed my hand up under her chin, snapping her head back and causing her blackened teeth to clack loudly. I grabbed her throat with one hand while stepping back from the first three slowly getting back to their feet. I pinned her to the cargo container and dropped the rifle as the first one came close. I drew my SIG and blew a large hole in his face, dropping him in a heap. The girl I had pinned to the wall was snapping and twisting, trying to get a bite out of my wrist. I lined up the second one, a fat individual or at least he would have been if his guts hadn’t been ripped out. Shreds of grey skin hung over a gaping hole in his cheek, which landed in the dirt after I shot him in the eye. I figured there was a second before the next two got to me, I spun around and shot the female in the forehead, her eyes rolling up in surprise at the new skylight in her skull.

The other two zombies were coming fast and I didn’t have much time. I pivoted and shot quickly, the shot entering the first zombie’s open mouth and exiting through the back of his neck severing his spine. The last Z barreled into me, knocking me back into the cargo container. I slipped on the girl I had shot and slid down just as his jaws snapped against the container. I found myself on the ground looking up at a zombie that looked down at me, his lips curling back from his mouth, revealing his broken, yellowed teeth. His head came down as my arm shot up, shoving the barrel of my SIG in his mouth. His teeth chewed the metal millimeters from my trigger finger as I fired, blowing the back of his head off and sending bits of his diseased brain into orbit.

I shoved the thin body off of me and stood up quickly, scanning the area for further threats. Not seeing any, I retrieved my rifle and hunkered down, breathing heavily and shaking my head. No matter what anyone says, no matter what all the movie hype tells you, close quarters combat takes a lot out of you.

I checked the rifle and it seemed okay, no barrel obstructions or otherwise. Sudden movement caught my eye and I stood up, watching Charlie run over from his container. Some slower moving zombies from the main horde saw the movement as well and they swung around to start their inevitable march towards their prey.

“Jesus, you okay?” Charlie asked, breathing heavily. His run had been precarious, the ground was liberally littered with newly made re-corpses.

I nodded. “All’s well. Thought that last guy was going to be the end when I slipped, but thankfully he hesitated when I disappeared from view.”

Charlie looked around at the bodies. “Nice work. I figured you for two or three to one, but five’s impressive.”

I shook my head. “Remind me never to do that again. If Sarah had been watching I’d be in serious trouble.”

Charlie just smiled, then turned as low moans carried to us. Thirty or so yards away there was about twenty slow movers headed our way and we needed to get to work. “I’ll take the right, you take the left,” Charlie said as he lifted his rifle.

“Deal.” I raised my rifle and started with a small boy on the far left. He was wearing a striped shirt and ripped up jeans. His vacant stare reminded me of students I had once upon a time when we did state testing. I dropped him with a quick shot, then moved on to the next. In short order we had killed the oncoming zombies, the last one literally dropping at our feet.

Our efforts had attracted the attention of several more ghouls and we decided we needed to get to a more defensible position. I could see more zombies coming up from the countryside, attracted to the sound of shooting, which I figured was akin to a dinner bell for roaming Z’s.

“Let’s get gone before we find ourselves out of ammo, trying to figure out how to spend the rest of our short lives in a cargo container.” I said, moving to the east towards the railroad tracks. Charlie agreed, telling me spending the rest of his life in a cargo container with me was only attractive if I was a supermodel. I didn’t bother to reply.