I only had eyes for the tanker. There was a small group next to it, shooting back at us. Four men and two women, all armed with Uzi sub-machineguns. I grimaced. Charging into a hail of bullets was fine for the movies, but I didn't want any part of it.
"Olivia, go to the edge of the woods," I said. The trees would give us some cover. She obeyed, and soon no one had line of sight with us. I felt a little safer, but we were still moving towards the gas station. "Stop at the edge of the trees. Ralph, be ready!"
"Ready!"
Not sure why we were shouting. Nerves? The din of battle was pretty bad, but manageable when we weren't firing. My ears were ringing like crazy already. Did real soldiers have that problem?
Ratta-tat-tat-tat! Ratta-tat-tat-tat! Ratta-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Ralph's ammo had tracers, so we could see where he was shooting. Only a few of the other larger weapons had tracers. He was shooting at the people trying to escape. I shot at the group by the tanker, who turned their weapons on us. But they dispersed while shooting.
"Oh no!"
One of them stopped to empty the rest of his magazine into the side of the tanker. To my astonishment it did not explode. So he flicked his cigarette at it.
There was a burst of flames all around the tanker. In a flash it was completely covered with fierce flames.
"Back up! Back up!" I cried.
Olivia put it reverse and hit the gas. We flew back along the treeline until the tanker exploded with a huge fireball. Only then did she hit the brakes.
"Well, that just sucks," Ralph said.
"Cease fire!" Jake radioed. "Cease fire!"
I had Olivia drive us back up on the highway. Jake and the pickups were still on the service road between the gas station and the bridge. There were a lot of dead bodies down there.
"I'm posting a guard under the bridge," Jake's tinny voice came over the walkie-talkie. "Everyone else go over to the other gas station. We'll top off before continuing."
"He took that well," Olivia said. "I figured he'd be ranting mad."
The cargo trucks started up and made for the truck stop. We remained in place for the time being. Ralph was busy replacing the barrel on the M60. Mike had shown him how to do it on a previous stop, but Ralph was struggling with it. He got it just as Jake came driving up.
The Trailblazer stopped next to us. "Hey! You guys go top off your vehicle, and then come back and relieve me on top of the bridge."
"Why on top of the bridge?" I asked.
"It's the highest point around here," he said. "And you can watch in all four directions."
So we headed for the truck stop. Everyone was getting fuel out of the underground tanks with a pump they brought just for that purpose. No electricity meant no working gas pumps at the station. So we got at the end of the line, until Mike waved us up ahead of everyone else.
"Jake wants you up on lookout," he said.
They had a small gas generator to run the pump to get gas. I don't know why I found that amusing. No one else did.
The two lead pickups and the first topped off cargo truck were already forming up in line to continue the trip. Most of the guys in Mike's team were munching on looted junk food and sodas. I was still too jittery from the fight to be hungry.
I got out to stretch my legs while Mike filled up our tank. Stepping around behind the vehicle I noticed the jerry can had three bullet holes. Yeah, it was empty. That's when I remembered they'd shot our spare tire, too.
"Hey, Mike, do we have any spare jeep tires?" I asked. I removed the useless jerry can and tossed it away. "And another jerry can?"
He shook his head, remaining intent on pumping gas. There wasn't an automatic cutoff when the tank was full.
"Look for a replacement spare at the armory," he said. "We have lots of jerry cans, but no one is going to give theirs up."
Didn't matter. We would probably be at the armory in an hour, two max. We might even get there before dark, too.
"Are we going to spend the night at the armory?" Olivia asked.
He gave her a speculative look. That got my hackles up. Olivia gave me an odd look, and even Ralph raised an eyebrow at me. Mike snorted and shook his head.
"No. We're trying to get back before noon tomorrow." He stopped pumping. "There. Go relieve Jake so he can top off."
Olivia took the ramp up onto the northbound side, and then doubled back to stop on top of the bridge. Jake just nodded and headed for the truck stop. We had a pretty good view in both directions, east and west, down the county road, as well as north and south on the highway.
Olivia pointed northward. "Walkers."
I glanced at them. The horde was a good mile away, past another bridge passing over the highway, and moving slowly towards us. There were a lot of them, though. Maybe a couple hundred. There were probably more in the woods, not to mention stragglers. With zombies there were always stragglers.
We'd have to drive through them, but they weren't an immediate threat. My mind was elsewhere.
"I think our best chance to part company with these guys without a fight is after dark, and while still in the city," I said. "They'll probably be feeling relaxed and confident after we loot the armory, and are heading out to Emory. I think we can lose them in the city streets. I'm not sure we can outrun them out on the open road."
"I agree," Olivia said. "Honestly, I like this jeep, but we have the slowest vehicle in the convoy."
"Oh shit," Ralph said softly.
"You don't like my plan?" I asked.
"I don't like the look of that," he said, pointing west down the county road.
I stood up on the seat, expecting to see another horde of zombies, and then just gawked. A column of motorcycles and RTVs were coming up the road. They were hauling ass, too.
"More to the north," Olivia said.
"And south of us," Ralph added.
The only direction they weren't coming at us was east. Were they trying to force us to go that way? Was an ambush waiting for us? It didn't matter, since there appeared to be thirty or more Deathdealers racing towards us from three directions, so about a hundred of them.
I grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Jake, we have a problem!"
Chapter 8
"Have I mentioned lately that I hate my life?" Ralph said.
I gave Jake my quick assessment of the situation. Soon everyone was talking over everyone on the radio. It took a moment, but Jake shut them up with his orders.
"Everyone return to the gas station," Jake ordered. "We're forming a defensive laager."
"What the hell is a 'defensive laager' supposed to be?" Ralph asked.
Olivia shrugged. I assumed it was some kind of Army setup. I vaguely recalled hearing the word, though the first thing that came to mind was a beer. God I could use a beer.
"Go, go, go," I called.
Olivia fired up the jeep and we took off northward down the highway, straight at the incoming Deathdealers. They started shooting at us, and Ralph opened up, too. M60s could reach out and touch someone from a much greater distance. The road they were coming off of was at least a mile away, but bullets still zipped by us. I suspected some of them were bouncing off the road. Ralph managed to take a few of them out.
"Aaaiiee!" Ralph screamed when Olivia sharply turned back onto the on ramp. He was slung all of the way around, and only his hold on the M60 kept him from flying out of the jeep. "What the fuck!"
"Sorry!" Olivia cried. "I thought you were paying attention."
We were the last to arrive. The laager proved to be all of the vehicles formed into a circle. The wild, wild west and cowboys and Indians immediately leapt to mind. I didn't like the look of it, at all. We'd be trapped there, surrounded by Deathdealers.
Jake waved us into a spot between two large cargo trucks. Olivia backed into the spot, making sure she could get out easily if necessary. I gave her a nod of approval. Then she and I took our AR15s and crouched behind the jeep, shooting over the hood, while Ralph manned the M60.
"Hey, man, you're too exposed up there!" I called. "Take it off the mount and set with the bipods atop the hood. Olivia and I will move over for you."
"I'm good," he said, squeezing off a few five to ten round bursts. Then a few bullets hit the jeep, the truck beside him, and Ralph quickly removed the M60 from the pedestal mount. "On second thought!"
While he extended the bipods for the first time, struggling a little. I grabbed a few boxes of ammo for him. Olivia covered me with intense fire. So I grabbed as many full magazines as I could reach, too, dumping them on the ground between us.
"I'm kind of missing the NML zone right now," I said.
"You and me both!" Olivia shouted, eyes huge. "I even miss Eddy!"
"I'm not going that far," Ralph growled. "Son of a bitch broke my nose."
"Incoming!" I shouted, seeing a trio of RTVs racing straight at us. "What the hell!"
I didn't know if they were suicidal or what. Then I spotted something odd. Flames and smoke. It took a second to realize what they were doing. And then it was too late.
"Molotov cocktails!" I shouted.
The three RTVs each had two people, one drove and the other threw the Molotov cocktails at us. Then the passenger started shooting at us. The first Molotov cocktail hit a cargo truck three down from us. The second missed and exploded in the middle of the laager, and the last smashed through the driver's window into a pickup, before bursting into flames.
I grabbed the walkie-talkie, "Jake, I see more with Molotov cocktails!"
We couldn't fight that kind of attack. Those idiots didn't seem to care if they lived or died. Hell, half of them looked like they were having the time of their lives. The rest just looked pissed and murderous.
"Holy crap, I thought zombies were bad," Ralph said while loading another belt of ammo. "These bastards are out of their fucking minds!"
A four-wheeler was suddenly racing right at us. A big black guy was driving, with a petite looking blonde behind him with a Molotov cocktail cocked back. They were both looking straight at us with crazy smiles on their faces. I froze.
Olivia fired.
Pap-pap-pap!
Both of them jerked as bullets riddled their bodies, the woman's head erupted with blood, and she dropped the Molotov cocktail. The RTV slammed into the jeep, sending both of them flying over us and into the laager. Olivia and I both turned and shot them each a few more times, just to be sure.
"Travis, take your team in now!" a deep voice called from the four-wheeler.
"They have radios," Olivia said.
I crawled up into the back of the jeep and looked over the edge at the RTV. It was idling, and I spotted the old CB radio strapped to the gas tank. There were wires going down into the engine, and I assumed to the battery. So they had better communications than us.
So I pulled my knife, cut the straps, disconnected a cable, and yanked it off the wires to the battery. Maybe we could make it work for us. If we survived.
"Don't risk yourself like that," Olivia scolded. "One CB won't help us."
"We might be able to get more," I said. I got on the walkie-talkie, "Jake, they are using CB radios. I got one."
Jake was on the opposite side of the laager, but he came running.
"Where is it? On the RTV?"
"In the back of the jeep," I said.
"What?" he replied, looking at it lying atop the C-Ration box. "You stupid idiot. Why did you disconnect it? I could've listened in on their command and control, and came up with ways to counter them."
"Take the stupid thing and hook it into your truck," I snapped.
"Idiot," he said, and just turned towards his vehicle. "It's useless without an antenna."
I glared after him. I wasn't a soldier. How was I to know he wanted to listen to their commander giving orders? Yet, I still felt like a failure and an idiot. Olivia patted my shoulder.
"You didn't know," she said. "Jake's an asshole."
The antenna was attached to the back of the RTV. Getting it, along with its cable, would be another issue. Maybe we could retrieve the CBs off some of the down vehicles after the battle.
Another wave of attacks started. Some of them raced around our laager with the passengers shooting at us. I think they were just trying to draw our fire, while a second group came straight at us. I could hear the second group attacking from the south behind us. Some of our people were shouting the warning for incoming Molotov cocktails.
Gunfire intensified to the south. Ralph and other M60 gunners were ripping the circling Deathdealers new assholes, decimating them horrifically. I doubted more than twenty percent of them survived the attack.
"They aren't Deathdealers, but Deathwishers," Ralph said. "How fucking stupid are they?"
BOOM!
The pickup that was burning blew up. It caught another flatbed truck on fire. I looked at the other burning cargo truck, and the fire was all around the fuel tanks.