Total Apoc Trilogy (Book 2): Fighting the Hordes (18 page)

            He pulled out the M16 with the grenade launcher mounted under the barrel.  Olivia took it and stood by the driver's seat.  Ralph dumped a dozen 40mm grenades on her seat.  I watched her load the first grenade.  It was, of course, single-shot.

            "Do you know how to use that?" I asked.

            "As much as anyone here," she replied.  "I'll figure it out."

            Yeah, that inspired no confidence.

            "They’re coming up the hill!" Travis cried, and opened fire.

            I wanted to wait until after they plowed into the fallen trees before shooting, but shit happens.  Ralph opened up, and Olivia popped off a grenade. 
Poof!

           
Boom!

            "What the hell's going on up there?" Mike called on the radio.

            I spotted dark shapes moving quickly towards us.  Suddenly, a motorcycle flashed past us.  Another topped the hill before the open side, and I shot at him.  Ralph shot, too.  He died a messy death, and the riderless bike went careening into the woods.

            "Timber!" Billy cried.

            That tree almost landed on us.  Some of its limbs struck the front of the jeep.  Neither Olivia nor I could see past it.  Ralph continued to fire from his higher position.  I took off towards the trunk.  Olivia followed.

            "Billy, take care of that bike that got past us!" I called.  "We got the rest."

            Billy and his gunner took off on foot after that lone Deathdealer.  I cringed at the sound of their firefight behind our position.  But I had to trust that Billy would get the job done.

            A metallic crunching sound reverberated through the night.  I smiled.  One of the dirt bikes ran headlong into the trunk.  Our plan was working.  By that time I was halfway down the length of the trunk and dropped to one knee behind it.  Using the truck to steady my weapon, I started shooting at any dark moving shape.

            Olivia alternated between grenades and M16.  When Ralph loaded up a new box of ammo and then opened fire, it was like something out of a Science Fiction movie.  That belt of ammo had tracer rounds.  And a lot of them.  Very impressive display in the near total darkness.

            We decimated them.  I had Olivia stop using grenades.  We might need them in the near future.  A tracer round hit a motorcycle in the gas tank, and it exploded.  The fire lit the area up nicely.  That made it a lot easier to pick off the bikers and their gun-wielding passengers.

            "Cease fire!  Cease fire!" I shouted when the few remaining motorcycled turned around and raced away.  A few minutes later, gunfire erupted down the road.  "Sounds like they ran into Mike again."

Chapter 20

            It was late afternoon on a cloudy, hot and humid day when Jake's voice came over the radio, "Mike!  You made it.  Did you recapture our cargo, over?"

            "We got them both back, Jake," Mike replied.  "It was a helluva fight, but mission accomplished, over."

            The radio was silent a long moment.  I envisioned the people in Emory doing their Snoopy dances.  They would probably have a big celebration.

            "Welcome home, guys.  How far out are you?" Jake's happy voice finally returned.  "We're getting ready to open the bridge and clear out the zombies.  Over."

            I smiled.  That was our influence.  Before Jake recruited us, the people of Emory referred to the walkers as "infected."  That was probably more accurate, but we got them calling them "zombies."

            Mike had been calling Emory for the last half hour.  We just assumed Jake and his team beat us there, since we had to go considerably out of the way.  We also assumed they would be listening for us on their military radios.

            "You need to start clearing the way now," Mike said.  "We're about ten minutes out of Emory, over."

            "Excellent," Jake said.  "We'll start the operation shortly, out."

            For the first time since starting the mission the previous day, we were not in the lead.  Mike took the lead after the second ambush.  It was probably mine and Olivia's barrage of questions about where he wanted us to turn.  We purposely confused the road we needed to turn off onto for the return to Emory.

            We assumed correctly.  Mike was out of patience and just took the lead.  I volunteered to bring up the rear, but he put us dead center in the convoy.  Our jeep was right behind the Chevy 5-ton cargo truck, so we couldn't see shit.

            "I'm all tingly," Olivia said.  "I don't know if I'm terrified or excited."

            I completely understood.  "All tingly" was a good description of what I felt.  Afraid one or more of the other trucks would open fire on us when we made our move.  Yet, excited and eager to make our escape.  After all we'd been through, our escape seemed to be a minor thing to them.  It was everything for us.

            "How's our fuel?" I asked.

            "Three quarters of a tank," she said.

            Our little convoy stopped at a gas station a ways back.  Mike had a manual pump to get the gas out of the underground tanks, so we all topped off.  I came up with a ploy to fill up last, and then shot at some "zombies" in the woods to get everyone scrambling back into their trucks.  Ralph managed the five-finger discount of the pump and hoses, and hid them in the jeep as we all returned to the road in all due haste.

            One of our prouder moments.

            "We're ready, willing, and able, baby," Olivia continued.  "Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

            That was half my fear.  I hadn't figured out exactly how we'd part their company.  Just turn down the on-ramp to the highway?  The problem with that were one cargo truck with a gunner, and two jeeps with M60 machineguns behind us.  How would they react to our escape?  The best case scenario would be to make a move while they were otherwise engaged.

            "I don't like the idea, but we'll probably have to wait until everyone's engage with the zombies," I said.  "I think we cross the bridge, and then veer off onto the off ramp southward."

            "The zombies will be thickest there," Ralph said.

            "That's why you need to concentrate fire into that area as we approach," I said.  "Without being too obvious."

            Soon, we heard the fight at the bridge.  Explosions and intense gunfire filled the air, getting louder and louder as we continued towards it at 50 MPH.  Mike gave Jake a mile countdown as we grew nearer.

            "How does he know by the mile how far out we are?" Olivia asked.  "What is he?  Some kind of evil mileage genius?"

            "Mile markers," Ralph said.  "Haven't you seen them?"

            "No.  What do they look like?"

            I looked at her.  "Seriously?"

            That question just frustrated her.  I shut up.  The last thing we needed was our driver to be agitated.  So I pointed out the next mile marker we passed.  On cue, Mike called in the distance to Jake.

            "In my defense, those markers are rather inconspicuous," she said.

            "And Mike obviously knows what mile marker that Emory is at," I said.

            The battle outside Emory got louder and louder.  I wondered if combat troops in wartime felt like I did as they approached the battle front.  And there was no question, it was a desperate battle for survival in Emory.  Every day and night.

            "Zombie Patrol, how are you doing, over?" Mike called.

            My breath caught.  Why was he singling us out?  Paranoia erupted within.

            "We're fine, but getting a little antsy listening to all that shit up ahead," I replied, not untruthfully.  "Over."

            "Understood.  It'll be fine as long as no one breaks ranks," he said.  "Out.  Bull, how are you doing, over?"

            I was so glad he called the other trucks and checked on them.  Maybe it wasn't a veiled threat.  Maybe it was.  Still, we were determined.

            "We need to find and loot a pharmacy," Ralph said.

            "Why?"

            "I need some anti-anxiety meds," he said, and we all laughed.

            "We can change our name to Prosaic Patrol," Olivia quipped.

            "We have zombies!" Mike called.  "Let's do this!"

            Olivia veered to the left, into the other lane.  We immediately spotted the edge of the Emory horde.  They were mostly stragglers heading towards the besieged town.  The horde was starting to grow thicker and thicker.  So we swerved back into line as the lead jeeps opened up on them.

            My hands tightened on the M16A2.  I noticed Olivia had a white-knuckle grip of the steering wheel.  Ralph looked grim but determined behind the M60.

            "Just think, two weeks ago we were just geeks who fought every battle with a joystick," I said.  "Now look at us."

            "Joystick?" Ralph said.  "I don't even know you anymore."

            "Okay, controller," I said.  "But joystick rolls off the tongue better."

            Olivia slanted a look at me, shook her head, and whispered, "How did I fall in love with such a dork?"

            The jeep rattled when a zombie made a suicide run at us, slamming into the front right fender.  I almost peed my pants again.  Suddenly, zombies were whizzing by on either side of us.  The convoy slowed down considerably as it started plowing through the walkers.

            Another zombie charged my side of the jeep, eyes wild and crazy.  I butt-slapped his ass down, and then shot the zombie behind him.  Shooting through the broken windshield, I reserved my shots for zombies capable of reaching us before we passed by.  At 20 MPH that was a remarkably high number.

            I had extra 30-round magazines on the floorboards under my feet.  Ralph had the M203 strapped across his back, while he manned the M60.  Even Olivia had a sawed off shotgun lying across her lap.  We were as ready as we'd ever be.

            Before I knew it, we were driving up atop the bridge over the I-50.  I didn't see it coming with the big truck in front of us and all of the attacking zombies distracting me.  We were almost across it before I came to my senses.

            "Pull over and stop at the edge of the bridge overlooking the ramp," I said.  I picked up the handset, keyed it, and said, "Rear jeeps, let's move to either side and help clear out zombies between the road and the woods.  We got the right side, over."

            The other side had an entire lane and shoulder to spread out onto.  Both of them acknowledge my suggestion and moved to the left.  Neither Mike nor Jake countered my orders.

            “I'll defend the jeep from walkers," I said.  "Ralph, start gunning them down on the ramp."

            While Ralph lit them up, I turned in the seat and faced to our rear.  The bridge was mostly cleared of zombies, but they were flooding back on behind our passage.  I emptied magazine after magazine, but barely made a dent in their numbers.  The other three jeeps started creeping up, but I held Olivia back.  I wanted the others off the bridge, off the high ground, before we made our move.

            "We're going to use the zombies to cover our escape," I said.  "Get ready to take off down the ramp."

            "Zombie Squad, get your asses in gear!" Jake radioed.  "Before you're overrun."

            "He didn't say over," Ralph replied.

            "He's a dork, too," Olivia said.  "We're 'Patrol' not 'Squad.'"

            "You guys are bat shit crazy," I said, turning around and sitting.  I quickly plopped the steel pot onto Olivia's helmet liner.  "That's why I love you guys so much.  Go!"

            I got chills as we surged forward.  Olivia was so eager, or nervous, she almost stalled the jeep.  It was a jerky start, but then we were plowing through zombies along the shoulder.  Ralph continued to spray the ramp, and I joined him.  And when we turned onto that ramp, going the wrong way, heat flushed through me.

            "Here we go!" I cried.  "Hit it!"

            "Wahoo!" she cried.

            Olivia shifted into second, and the jeep lurched forward.  Ralph laughed as he let out short burst after short burst.  We were doing 30 MPH down that ramp, plowing walkers to either side with the cowcatcher.  Others reached for us, but we were too fast.

            "Zombie Patrol!  Stop!" Mike called.  "Come back here!"

            I lifted the handset to my face, "No.  We helped you get home, and now we're going home!"

            "Shoot them!" Jake cried over the radio.

            "No," Mike said.  "Don't endanger yourselves.  Let them go."

            I shared a quick look with Olivia.  My eyes filled with tears.  They were letting us go without a fight.

            "Good luck," Billy called.

            "Yeah, don't let the infected get you," Travis said next.

            And then we were on the highway, gaining speed.  The zombies were behind us.  The few on the road in front of us were easily avoided.  Ralph finally relaxed and plopped down in his seat.  Olivia let out a gush of breath.

            "We did it," was all I could say.

            "Good luck, Zombie Patrol," Mike said.  "It was an honor to serve with you."

            Tears began to flow.  Even Olivia had to wipe at her eyes.

            "Thanks," I replied.  "We'll never forget you guys."

            Finally, after about another five miles, Jake came over the radio.

            "Good luck.  I guess I always knew you'd run for it," he said.  "You went above and beyond anything I expected
of you.  Thank you.  I hope you make it home, out."

            We were silent for the next twenty miles are so.  It was a beautiful day, and the zombies were not frolicking anywhere around us.  Olivia even managed to cross the medium to the right side of the highway.