The Dead Walk The Earth (Book 4) (33 page)

He could see the sections of T-wall sagging inwards to their left and right as the integrity of the perimeter was steadily compromised. He instantly recognised that if just one slab was to fall, a domino effect would ensue and the entire perimeter would quickly collapse, allowing the dead to exploit the gaps.

“That isn’t going to last for long,” he shouted over the noise as the moans of the dead reached fever-pitch.

A long piece of iron framework slammed into the area just beside his head, clanging loudly and causing a shower of sparks as metal violently rasped against metal. He turned to see Kyle and Mark pushing against the iron post until it reached an angle of thirty degrees. They wedged the other end into the ground, stomping on it in the hope that it would gain some grip in the layers of gravel and mud.

“If we don’t thin out that crowd, that wall is going to spank in within the next few minutes,” Al called across to Tina as another jolt forced his feet to slip.

The doors rocked and skidded across the stones causing some of the equipment that had been piled up against them to slip and collapse. The hands of the dead now began to thrust through the gaps, clawing at the steel and concrete, and reaching out for the living people within the base. There were shouts and cries as the claws of the infected made contact with live flesh, digging their nails into the soft tissue or pulling at the clothing as the survivors continued to push their bodies against the gates.

Al regained his footing and pushed back against the barriers, throwing all of his strength against it. Bull joined him, groaning through clenched teeth as he did so while the muscles in his arms throbbed and almost split the material of his jacket. With a concerted effort they forced the gate backwards. It banged together with a dull reverberating twang, trapping and severing many of the grasping, rotted hands that were reaching through the gaps.

“Take them out,”
Nobby yelled from the top of the wall.
“The gate’s going to give. Concentrate your fire into the centre. Shoot the bastards. Now. Rapid fire.”

The men and women standing on the wall above began to pour more fire into the crowds beneath them, desperately trying to thin out the masses of corpses that were pushing against the gate. The machineguns in the towers to the left and right swivelled on their mounts and began to spew long, devastating bursts into the infected. Their bullets rained down, smashing the heads of scores of the dead and chopping through the bodies of countless more. However, the pressure against the perimeter did not ease. It continued to lean inwards, the concrete holding it in place becoming weaker by the second.

Another large piece of mortar, destabilised from the constant movement and becoming dislodged from the reinforcing rods inside, fell from one of the support pillars. Even over the sound of the guns and the cries of the living and dead, the heavy thwack was audible as the bulky block of concrete crashed onto one of the militia soldiers beneath. His body instantly and silently dropped to the ground as his skull was crushed, his comrades barely noticing as he lay twitching and dying in a pool of his own blood.

“It’s no good,” Taff yelled. “It’s not going to hold.”

“We need to move, Tina,” Stan hollered again over the fire.

“Not everyone will make it if we go now,” she snarled back at him.

She understood the urgency of the situation, but she was also thinking about the other survivors within the base. Turning to run now would guarantee the wall to collapse, and most of her people were still in the assembly areas. With every one of them being needed to help stabilise the perimeter and communications virtually none existent, informing the two assembly points to begin moving was impossible at that time.

“Use what fuel you have to,” Tina shouted up to Paul, realising that desperate measures were required, even if it was only to buy them a few minutes. “Use all of it. Burn them, and get them away from the gate.”

Paul understood what needed to be done. Grabbing a few of his troops to assist him, he raced off to find, Jim, their quarter master who had the keys for their fuel tanks.

Stan was beside Tina, pressing his weight against the entrance, and staring up at the gate as it continued to rock back and forth, the top moving further inwards with each push from the opposite side. The rifle and machinegun fire from the wall continued under the direction of Nobby, but it did nothing to throw back the assault.

“If we’re going to do this, then we need to do it sooner rather than later,” Stan shouted, referring to the evacuation. “Burning them will only buy you a little more time. The gate isn’t going to hold them back.”

“Tina,” Al called from the right.

She turned and saw him standing on the other side of the equally huge Bull. Both of them had faces that were rapidly turning purple from their efforts of holding up the gate. They were snarling through their teeth as they pushed at the heavy barrier.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” he yelled across to her over the bobbing heads of the other troops around them, echoing Stan’s recommendation. “We’re using up too much ammo, and we can’t hold them back. If we don’t leave soon, we never will.”

“Just stay firm,” she shouted back to him, feeling her head begin to throb and her muscles become an inferno as she too fought hard to shore up the gate.

She knew that they would soon need to evacuate, but fleeing from the gate now would cause them to be overrun within minutes. They needed to hold out for as long as they could until Paul returned with the fuel. That at least would buy them the precious time they needed to enable them the chance to reinforce that section of the perimeter and begin the evacuation. She just hoped that Paul got back to them in time.

“This place is shit. Whose great idea was it to come here?” Taff growled sarcastically from somewhere close by.

“Not mine,” the veteran hollered back to him. “I told you years ago that we should’ve gone to Norway.”

Minutes later as the situation and the barricades continued to rapidly deteriorate, Paul’s group finally returned, rolling the barrels of fuel across the gravel and then heaving up the drums towards the top of the wall. The people below stayed where they were as hundreds of gallons of petrol and kerosene began to rain down onto the infected that were crowding and pushing against the entrance. The flammable liquid seemed to incense the dead, and they increased the ferocity of their assault. Thousands of voices were howling, slamming their bodies against the barriers in a last bid to smash their way through as if they understood what would be coming next.

“Get back,”
Paul screamed down from above, waving a flare gun above his head.
“Get back from the gate.”

As Tina and the others hurled themselves away and jumped clear of the area, there was a loud whoosh sounding like the winds of a hurricane suddenly breaking against the perimeter walls. A blast of immense, searing heat forced its way through the gaps in the defences, the flames racing after it and curling into the base from beyond the walls as the fireball mushroomed and billowed upwards above the perimeter. The temperature rose within a millisecond, hot enough to scorch the lungs of the living and strip the flesh from the bones of the dead as the fires instantly engulfed them. The men and women on top of the wall dropped into cover, protecting their exposed skin, and screaming against the blistering heat that swept over them. The people below shielded their faces, turning away from the thick steel sheets of the gate and searching for cover as the world around them seemed to melt into the furnace that they had created.

Outside, hundreds of the infected were reduced to human shaped torches, burning quickly and spreading the flames further into their own ranks as they continued to charge about, blinded by the raging flames that melted their skin and destroyed their eyes. The sky above them quickly became black with thick, bubbling clouds of nauseating smoke tinged with the stomach churning scent of burning human flesh.

With the initial inferno quickly dissipating, Tina was able to turn and witness how effective the fire had been. The gates were glowing red with the extreme temperatures caused by the fires, and the walls on either side had been scorched black. Smoke was pouring into the base, carrying with it the stench of burning bodies and blinding the living people as the acrid clouds swirled around them. With a sense of triumph surging through her she saw that the gate was no longer moving, the dead having been incinerated to piles of charred bones and ash.

“It worked,”
Paul shouted with excitement and relief from the walkway above them as he climbed back to his feet and surveyed the scene.
“They’ve fallen back.”

The soldiers on the wall quickly regained their positions and began to fire again, fighting hard to maintain a buffer zone between them and the swarms of infected. The fires would not last long, and they knew that the dead would soon regroup and launch another assault against the weakened defences.

“Do we have anything left?” Tina called up to him.

“Enough for one more blast like that one, then we’re out.”

“Whatever we’re going to do, we better do it fast, Tina,” Al said from the side of her, rubbing at his stinging eyes.

“You got your people ready?” Stan grunted.

“Get everyone moving, Al. Evacuate the assembly points and the rest of the wall. Leave a handful of troops on the west until the main body have made it to the tunnel. We’re leaving now,” Tina ordered before turning her attention to Stan. “Yeah, we’re ready.”

“Good,” he replied. “About fucking time.”

17

Quick Battle Orders—QBOs—are never intended to take any longer than just a few minutes. They are designed as a purely reactive and short set of orders to an unfolding situation rather than a deliberate full set of orders outlying every detail of a pre-emptive attack or defence. With no time for in-depth planning and preparation, it is down to the commander on the ground to quickly form his plan and then instruct his troops on what they are going to do and how they will do it, giving a brief description on the task and relying on the abilities of his soldiers to anticipate and understand what is required of them.

Stan pulled Tina closer and dropped into a kneeling position with Taff, Bull, Mark, and Kyle closing in around them.

“Charlie,” Taff called out and placed his hand on top of his own head, signalling to him that he was to close in on the assembled group. “On me.”

Around them word was spreading fast as the message was passed from one person to the next telling everyone within the base to prepare to move. The militia remained on the wall at the eastern gate and firing at a much reduced rate to conserve ammunition while elsewhere, weapons and ammunition were being collected and redistributed. Some of the troops were already filing down from the walkways and assembling in the open area in front of the tunnel entrance. Others were tasked with assisting in the evacuation of the civilians from the assembly areas within the complex, helping to maintain command and control, and prevent the withdrawal from turning into a full scale and uncoordinated retreat that was fuelled by panic.

Al arrived back and dropped down beside them, nudging his way into the tight circle so that he could see and hear what was being discussed. He nodded to Tina, informing her that everything was underway, and that the people in the assembly points were being mobilised.

“Both assembly areas are moving under the packet commanders and militia sections,” he reported, looking back over his shoulder at the complex. “It’s fucking pandemonium in there, Tina. The civvies are in a right flap.”

He looked worried. There was a lot of people that would be suddenly moving together. The two assembly points were at different ends of the complex, with the largest group situated in the recreation room on the southern side. It was a long way for them to travel to get to the tunnel, dragging children, elderly, and the sick with them.

“Maybe we should’ve started moving them to the tunnel entrance sooner?”

“And then what? Turn this place into a panicking gang-fuck while those things kicked the shit out of the walls?” Taff snorted.

“I’m just worried about the distance and the time we have left before the walls cave in, is all.”

Stan took in a deep breath and adjusted his position so that he was more comfortable, ready to give his orders. Everyone turned to him, forgetting their concerns for the moment and waiting for him to begin.

“I don’t need to go over the situation of enemy and friendly forces,” Stan grunted. “I think it’s all pretty clear on that aspect.”

They all nodded.

“Charlie, you and your lads will move out ahead of us to the bus depot, clearing the route through the sewers as you go, and marking the way. There’ll be a platoon of militia with you to act as a protection force.

“Taff and Bull, once Charlie is moving, you’ll push on a few minutes behind him with Mark and a few of the militia. Head to the RV that we used on our way in, and once there, get the SUVs prepped and then set up a perimeter and wait for the rest of us.”

“Roger that, boss.”

“Kyle, you’ll be in the main body with me, Tina, and the remainder. Once we have everyone assembled at the tunnel, we’ll follow on and go static at the RV to wait for the buses. Grab a few of the guns and as much ammo as you can carry. Get some of the civvies to help you. You’ll be the front and rear protection for the main body.”

“No problem,” Kyle replied.

“Where’s the depot?” Stan asked. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his map, and passed it over to Al.

After a few moments of study, the big man marked the point on the map with a circle and handed it back. Stan examined the location, approximately calculating the distances and positions between the base and the depot itself in relation to the main built-up areas of the town. Charlie shuffled across and peered down at the map.

Al watched the man for a while with interest. He was evidently much older than any of the other team members that he was operating alongside of. He was tall and slender, with long limbs and a neck that seemed to jut out too far above his shoulders. His physical strength and wisdom was evident in the way he moved and held authority within the group, and it was clear that the others listened to and respected Charlie’s opinion. His long, bulbous nose was his most distinguishing feature. Set within his stern, thin face and flanked by deep wrinkles that made him appear like a man who had seen and done all that there was to experience in the world. His mouth was little more than another thin line, his lips barely visible and giving the impression that he was a deep thinker or even ill-tempered. But his eyes revealed a man of compassion and knowledge far beyond that of anyone else present in the group. The way in which he spoke had given Al an insight into the man’s character, and already he had flashed his teeth a number of times since entering into the base in a broad and extremely warm smile.

Al felt confident that he liked Charlie, more so than any of the others at that point in time. If not for Charlie’s presence, he suspected that he may have been more openly hostile towards Stan and his men, but the man’s aura seemed to have a calming effect upon him.

Charlie leaned further forward, arching his long neck while resting his shovel-like hands on Stan’s shoulder and meticulously scrutinising the map.

“It’s about three kilometres from our exit point from the sewers by the looks of it,” he stated, leaning back and pulling on the tip of his long, bulbous nose with his thumb and forefinger. Considering their situation, he seemed completely relaxed and at ease. “Just on the outer edges of the town centre.”

“Is it reachable?” Stan asked, looking up at him. “Do you think you could get in there without any problems?”

Charlie shrugged, holding his rifle so that the butt was resting against the ground and helping to prop him up.

“All depends on how much activity there is in that area. If the infected are still crowding around where these guys got themselves stranded the other day, then hopefully we could get in and out before too many of them are attracted to the bus depot. The thing is, though, we can be as quiet as mice, but once we start up the engines the game will be up. At that point I reckon there’ll be a lot of those things within earshot that could ruin our day. We’ll need plenty of ammo as well as the troops you suggested.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Tina nodded. “We’ll give you the best people we have and make sure they have all the ammo they need.”

“We don’t have the luxury to send out a recce beforehand,” Stan noted. “So it will all have to be done on the move. If there’s nothing there, get back to the RV as quickly as you can and we’ll reassess.”

“Roger that,” Charlie nodded.

“I’ll be with you, too,” Al suddenly announced.

Everyone turned to look at him. It seemed odd to Al that anyone would have presumed that he would not be going. He was one of two people who knew the built-up areas better than anyone else. Charlie may have been the right man for the job as far as Stan was concerned, but he did not know the city.

“It would make a lot more sense if I’m with you for this. Tommy will come along, too,” Al shrugged.

Stan nodded to him and then turned to the veteran.

“Go and assemble a gun team, and meet me back at the tunnel.”

Kyle stood up, having received his orders, and took off at a brisk jog towards a group of militia that were standing idle, looking worried, and crowding around the entrance to the tunnel while they awaited further instructions.

“You fuckers,” he called, sounding more friendly and relaxed than his words implied. He waved them towards him, the troops reluctantly obeying and approaching with frightened expressions but clearly willing to be commanded and guided by a man with his experience. “You’re with me.”

Stan turned on his haunches to glance over his shoulder at the gate and watched the men and women that were still in position as they continued to fire their weapons into the crowds below. He caught sight of Kyle and a number of the militia racing along the walkway as they collected the machineguns. They were already heavily loaded with belted ammunition, and grabbing more as they made their way from one tower to the next.

“I’ll just be happy to get out of this death-trap,” Bull grunted.

“What about comms?” Taff asked.

“We’ll get what we can from Ron,” Al replied. “We don’t have much, but I think we can manage a VHF set with enough range for each group. The smaller, personal sets are in short supply, too, but we should have enough so that each team has internal comms.”

The doors leading into the complex behind them suddenly opened with a bang. They turned and saw Tommy standing there wearing his armour and equipment and carrying his rifle. He was ready to join the fight.

Al looked back at him and studied his face. There was no expression there at all. No hint of sadness or even a trace of fear. He nodded towards the group, and then called back through the door, waving someone forward from the interior.

The first group of civilians began to file out from the building, flanked and herded by some of the guard force and led by a man in civilian clothing whose eyes were as wide as saucers. The men and women of the first group huddled together for comfort and reassurance as mothers pulled their children closer. They all appeared terrified, but they walked through the chaos in silence, squinting and gagging at the reek of the burning corpses beyond the wall.

“Keep a tight grip on them,” Tommy ordered as he stepped away from the line of civilians.

He raised his finger and pointed it to the man leading them. It was Nigel, one of the civilian leaders. He was not a soldier, but a council member for the mostly civilian population of the base. It was not clear if his terrified appearance was as a result of the predicament they were in or if Tommy was the cause.

“Line them up at the tunnel entrance, and make sure you keep the place clear. Don’t let it turn into a cake and arse party, Nige.”

Leaving the packet commanders to guide the civilians to their forming up points—FUP—Tommy joined the small gaggle of people that were attending Stan’s orders-group.

“Tommy,” he grunted with a nod, introducing himself to the strangers as he crouched down beside Al.

Bull looked at the two men, eyeing their homemade armour that was made from black leather and thick plastic and compressed cardboard. Their shoulders were covered along with their chests and backs, with vambraces and greaves made from the same material protecting their arms and legs. He understood the need and practicality for their appearance, but his humour was fighting to the surface.

“Who are you two supposed to be? Batman and Mad Max?”

“You’re with me on this, mate,” Al informed Tommy, ignoring Bull’s taunts and bringing his friend up to speed on what was being decided. “We’re heading for the depot along with Charlie here.”

Tommy nodded but said nothing. He seemed distant, almost disinterested as he stared down at the maps and sketches that Stan had laid out on the ground in front of him.

Another man appeared, pushing his way through the throngs of civilians and headed towards Tina. He hobbled as he moved, his pale and sweat-soaked face contorted with pain. Stan watched him as he approached them and noted the white bandages that were wrapped around his legs and arms. They were soaked with blood, and it was obvious to him that beneath the dressings were bite wounds. The man reached the group and slumped down so that he was kneeling beside Tina, his drawn face and sunken eyes making him appear like someone who had recently escaped from a slave labour camp.

“That’s the recreation assembly point moving,” he reported with a grimace. “Gary and Jim are leading them through, but they’re moving too slowly and they’ve a long way to go. There’s too many of them, and they’re crammed into the corridors like sardines and moving at the pace of the slowest person, which is roughly the same speed as a startled slug.”

“Thanks,” Tina smiled sadly.

She could see that the infection was already tearing through him, causing him immense pain and suffering. But she could also see that he would not let his condition beat him, and that he would soldier on until the very end. He stood up and headed towards the wall.

“I’d better get over to the tunnel and help out,” he croaked.

“Greg,” she called after him.

He stopped and turned to her. She wanted to say something, but she could not find the words. She did not want to tell him that she was sorry or offer him the chance to rest while others did the work. He would not take kindly to such words. Instead, they watched one another for a moment, saying nothing until the man’s face changed from an expression of physical pain and exhaustion to one of absolute resolve and determination to continue with the fight, doing all he could to help the other survivors. He turned and headed away, following after Nigel and the first group of evacuees.