The Reckoning - 02 (13 page)

             
“Just get ready to run,” he said.

             
“I won’t leave you,” I replied.

             
“You will if you want to live.
You have to for your kids.”

             
“You go, or I stay,” I said, adamantly.

             
“Fine,” he hissed through pain-clenched teeth, “let’s get the hell out of here, then.”

             
“I’m sorry I got you into this, Guns,” I said, squeezing his arm.

             
“Fuck sorry,” he wheezed.
“Let’s go get your family.
We’re gonna take out as many of these fuckers as we can.”

             
I put on my pack and grabbed all the weapons I could carry.
I stuck the shotgun back in its spot on my rucksack and picked up the AR-15.
I glanced out the hole that number three had shot through the roof of the van and saw a shadow pass by.
I had a rough idea of where he was.
I snapped the AR to my shoulder and started firing in that direction as fast as I could pull the trigger.
After about a dozen rounds, I heard a scream of pain and a body hit the ground.

             
“I’m hit,” screamed number three.

             
“Go!” I hissed. “Go, now!”

             
Gunny grabbed his pack and crawled out of the windshield, then headed into the woods as fast as he could go on unsteady feet. He had his AR-15 clutched in his good hand. I paused long enough to light a section of the seat on fire. Then I grabbed my range bag and ducked out through the windshield.
I ran through the broken section of fence that the van had landed on.
Odin was right on my heels.
I glanced back over my shoulder and saw a man in his late fifties or early sixties lying on the ground holding his stomach.
I’d gut shot him and it made me smile.

             
I could see nearly a dozen men running towards the van, all with weapons drawn.
They hadn’t seen me, since they were concentrating on number three.
Just before they reached him, the van exploded in a huge fireball.
The force of the blast threw me onto my face and I felt the heat wash over me.
I could hear the popping sounds of the ammunition exploding in the fire.

             
I forced myself to my feet and headed deeper into the trees.
Once I was sure I wasn’t being followed, I crouched down with Odin behind some bushes.
Gunny was leaning against a tree, blood now covering the front of his shirt. I could still see the flaming wreckage that had been our van.
It was serving as a funeral pyre for a good number of those assholes.

When
the fire from the explosion died down, I could see that most of the attackers had survived the blast.
Two of them were on fire and writhing on the ground.
I only counted eight falling back towards the vehicles.
They were too far away for me to hear what they were saying, but they ran back towards their vehicles and started piling in.

             
Seconds later, the three vehicles took off and headed back the way we’d been driving.
I could see them turn onto a gravel road at the edge of town and head off to the west.
We were safe, but on foot.
We were also limited to whatever supplies we’d managed to save.
Right now, I had to give Gunny whatever first aid I could. I was going to have to stop the bleeding and get him moving. With him out of the action and me being the only one in fighting shape, we were going to have to be careful. I couldn’t afford to run into anything, dead or alive.

             
After cutting away the front of his t-shirt, I saw that there were three ragged holes that were seeping blood. None of them were close enough to the heart to be fatal, but he’d lost quite a bit of blood. I didn’t have the equipment or skill to remove the pellets, so I did the best I could. I packed the wounds with gauze and wrapped it in redneck repair tape. Then I rigged a make-shift sling out of a piece of rope. It wasn’t pretty, but it was going to have to work.

             
“Guns,” I asked, tentatively, “are you going to be able to walk?”

             
“I damned sure can’t sit here and wait for a fucking ambulance?” he returned, gritting his teeth.

             
“Alright,” I said, “I’ll carry as much of the gear as I can. You just walk and I’ll cover us.”

             
Without a word, Gunny headed off into the direction of Springfield. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but doing better than I expected. I’d have to watch him closely to make sure he didn’t bleed out on me.

             
Grabbing the range bag, I headed off after him.
I made sure to stay in the trees, but kept the road in sight.
I knew there were vehicles back in town that I might be able to take, but that explosion was like ringing a dinner bell for any undead in the area.
Not to mention if that group was still in the area, then going back would be suicide.
Our best chance was in putting some distance between us and the little town.

             
I thought about all we’d lost as we walked away.
The fuel, ammo, weapons and food were all gone.
We also lost the bows and arrows.
I didn’t know who those guys were, but they had cost us dearly.
I would have gladly given them the gear if it meant them not shooting Gunny.
My rage boiled and I really wanted to find the rest of those scum-bags and make them pay. I didn’t have the luxury of revenge. I had to get to my family, come hell or high-water.

             
After about an hour, I felt I was far enough from the explosion to take a break and inventory the gear.
I found a hidden spot to sit down and took off my pack.
The first thing I did was check on Gunny. He was pale and tired. The wound had stopped bleeding, which could be either good or bad.

             
“How’re you feeling?” I asked.

             
“Like shit,” he replied, sarcastically. “Thanks for asking.”

             
“Well, you feel good enough to be a smart-ass,” I said, grinning.

             
“I’ll be alright,” he said, after a moment. “I just need to rest for a bit.”

I
sat down on a rock so Gunny could rest a moment. Then I started to pick the glass out of my face and clean the wounds.
They were all minor cuts, so I just ignored them.
They weren’t bleeding much, anyway. Next, I inventoried the weapons.
I had my rifle, shotgun and pistols.
In the range bag was the old Henry repeater and the guns I’d found at the store.
I couldn’t help but smile when I discovered that I still had my hammer.

             
Gunny had his AR-15 and two 1911 .45’s. His pack was full of ammo, but he’d lost his shotgun and the M1. We’d also lost the majority of the supplies and gear we’d scrounged. We weren’t exactly unarmed.
We had plenty of ammo, but the problem was food.

             
I had two cans of ravioli and one of baked beans. Gunny had six cans of chili. We didn’t have any water, at all.
We were in a bind, for certain.
We still had well over twenty miles to go to reach the
edge
of Springfield, let alone crossing a city full of the dead.

We
’d have to find water, if we were going to make it.
I could ration the food, but water was another story.
I remembered the rule of three: three minutes without air, three hours without shelter, three days without water and three weeks without food.
Water had to be a priority.

             
My biggest problem was going to be weight.
All of that gear was heavy.
I wanted to toss some of it out to lighten my load, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I couldn’t make myself leave perfectly good firearms behind. Gunny was too weak to carry a pack, so I loaded all of his gear into mine and let him carry an empty pack.

             
I stuck as much gear into the range bag as I could and tied it to my pack.
I shouldered it and adjusted the straps.
It was heavy, but not impossible.
I wasn’t planning on setting any speed records, anyway.
I’d take it slow and careful.
I’d have to be quiet to avoid being seen, by the living or the dead.
At this point, I couldn’t trust either. I took a moment to reload both the AR and the shotgun.
After I secured the shotgun to my pack, I was ready.
I nudged Gunny’s foot and he opened his eyes.

             
“Time to go, already?” he asked, weakly.

             
“Afraid so,” I said. “We have to get moving. We’ve got to find a place to hole-up for the night. There’s no way we can make it all the way to Springfield before dark.”

W
e headed off keeping the road in sight.
If we were lucky we could make it to Nixa by nightfall, but we’d have to go around the edge of town to avoid the undead. It would take us out of our way, but it couldn’t be helped. Gunny was a little unsteady on his feet, so I snagged a large tree-branch and lopped off the excess branches with my combat knife. At least it gave him something to lean on.

             
I walked until I felt like my knees were going to give out, and called for a break.
I opened a can of chili for Gunny. He ate with little enthusiasm, but didn’t complain. Then I opened a can of ravioli and dumped half of it on a rock for Odin.
I ate the other half slowly, listening for any sounds that would alert me to danger.
It was quiet.
It was as good a place as any to take a short rest.

             
“We’ll break here for a while,” I said.

             
Gunny didn’t argue. He just leaned back against a tree and shut his eyes. I checked his wounds, again. He wasn’t bleeding, but he was very pale. I was going to have to find a place for us to rest for the night where we would be safe from roving dead. I didn’t think I could push him much farther without killing him. I decided to let him rest for a while. It would do me some good, too.

             
I sat my pack on the ground and used it as a back rest.
Then I took off my boots and checked my feet.
Just as I feared, I had some pretty large blisters on both.
I resisted the urge to pop them and put my socks back on.
I decided to leave my boots off for a while and let my feet air out.
They were getting pretty rank.
I knew that the blisters were going to get worse before we made it back to town.

             
I considered taking a nap, but was afraid I’d oversleep and leave myself exposed out here in the middle of nowhere.
Odin, however, had no such considerations.
He was snoring before I had my boots off.
I kept half an eye on my watch and allowed myself to rest for an hour.
Then I started putting my boots back on.
Odin opened his eye and gave me a mournful look.

             
“Sorry, boy,” I whispered.
“Guns, we’d better get moving.”

             
With a sigh, he lifted his head and watched me get my boots on.
When I was up and had my pack on, he slowly got to his feet.
Odin sniffed a nearby tree and relieved himself on it, then turned back to me as if to say, “ready.” Gunny took a little longer to pull himself together.

             
“OK, Wylie,” he said, weakly. “Let’s get this over with.”

             
We walked for almost an hour when I noticed that there was a clearing up ahead.
I stopped at the edge of the trees and saw that I was overlooking a small ravine with a creek running through it.
The sides of the ravine were steep and rocky, so I decided not to risk climbing down. I figured I could make it, but Odin and Gunny might have a difficult time.

             
We backtracked to the road and checked both directions for any sign of movement.
I didn’t see any, so we headed for the bridge that crossed the creek.
We’d be exposed for well over a hundred yards before we could slip back into the trees on the other side of the ravine.
I kept my fingers crossed and headed off. I let Gunny walk ahead of me so I could watch him and our backs.

             
As we reached the center of the bridge, I glanced both directions down the creek.
I didn’t see anything in the water that might be a threat, so I kept moving.
Odin seemed to be content to trot along beside me, so I felt comfortable that there weren’t any undead in the area.
That just left the living to worry me.
Since all of this had begun, the living had killed almost as many of my friends as the dead.