Trudge: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (12 page)

Brook opened the breech of the Ithaca and replaced the spent round with a new 12 gauge shot shell. She opened the door and ventured into the store room, gun barrel leading the way. Satisfied that the building was walker free, Brook sat down heavily on a plastic folding chair. Raven plopped on the floor by her feet, sighing loudly and touching her cheek to her mom’s thigh.

Brook asked Carl, "How long do you think we are going to be safe in here?" As if in response to her question a series of loud bangs made her visibly jump. Her nerves shot, she flipped the source of the banging the finger. Raven whimpered.

“I figure that the garage door will hold for a while, it's the small side door that worries me." Carl started sliding a box containing a large commercial air conditioning unit towards the small door. Brook and Raven added some muscle and together they positioned it in front of the door, and then for good measure they piled still more boxes on top of the larger one. Carl ran his hands over the door, "this is a steel core door; it's the frame and hinges we have to worry about. It'll only take a few of those things to forget about the roll up door and start in on this one. If they do we are hosed."

Carl kicked the door to the internal office, the wood around the lock splintered and the door flew inward. He flicked on the light and looked around the twenty by twenty foot room.

BANG.

A cheap particle board desk sat in the center of the room. They rifled through the drawers and found a number of full key rings.

BANG. BANG.

The zombies wanted in bad.

BANG. BANG.

"While I try these keys in the truck can you two unload the vending machines?”

Carl tossed the keys labeled as soda/candy they fell near Brooks’ feet.

Carl tried the keys in the trucks ignition while Brook and Raven looted both vending machines.

BANG.

The garage door moved inward partially buckling under the pressing weight of the dead.

Having tried half of the keys, Carl finally found the right one. He turned the ignition slightly, the noisy seatbelt warning bell chimed intermittently. He quickly turned the key to off. Talking over the persistent pounding, Carl explained how they were going to extricate themselves from the fix they were currently in.

Brook would drive the five ton truck with Carl in the bucket. This was necessary because someone tall and possessing good upper body strength would have to pull the chain to work the garage door up. The process would take him about 30 seconds, he estimated, based on the time it took to close the door when they arrived. Pulling the chain while standing on the ground would be suicide; the undead would flood the garage as soon as the crack under the door was big enough. Brook and Raven would occupy the cab of the truck and lay flat on the bench seat until the door was open far enough to allow their egress. If all went well they would pull out of the garage with Carl riding in the bucket and then drive to a safe place and let him in the cab.

Chapter 23

Day 2 Wahkeena Falls, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon

Cade, Rawley, Leo and Ike were about to get back on the road when the obese undead woman made her appearance. The soaked clothing she wore left a wet trail behind her as she slowly plodded towards them. Cade shouldered his M4 rifle and aimed at the ghoul’s forehead. He still couldn't distance himself from the fact that these things had once been someone’s mom, dad, sister; kid’s ...especially the kids.

Shooting the zombie kids was ten times harder than killing his undead neighbors Ted and Lisa. What amazed Cade was that he actually felt empathy for who the undead used to be. He found that the longer that he was removed from active duty and running ops the more emotions began to manifest in him.

*****

When Cade arrived in country during his first tour in Iraq, he had an internal giddy anticipation of what combat was going to be like. He would have been lying if he said that he wasn’t just a little curious about what it would feel like to kill another man. His questions were answered within a week of being on the ground.

*****

The patrol Cade was on was supposed to be a routine daylight show of force. Six up-armored Humvees and the squad of Rangers were ordered to patrol a series of canals in the El-Anbar province. Mortars had been lobbed from that area the night before, they were going to bang on some doors and search some hovels looking for weapons or caches of explosives. They were on an elevated canal road when the Humvee in front of them disappeared in a cloud of fine dust and black smoke. The convoy halted. Their escape from the kill zone was limited because of the water filled irrigation ditches on each side of the road. RPGs sailed over the Humvee with their telltale whooshing sound. The distinctive rattle of AK-47's and PKR belt fed machine guns entered the fray. All hell was breaking loose. The radio operator was calmly calling for Apache gunships and any available aviation assets to provide close air support.

A cacophony of fire from the turret mounted Ma-Deuce, M2 .50 caliber machine guns added to the decibel level. Cade was scanning his sector from his rear passenger window. A group of three insurgents in their traditional man dresses were crouched down and fumbling with what appeared to be a twelve volt car battery. The wires snaked atop the ground near the men and then dove under the sand, emerging near the dirt berm two meters from his Humvee. Without hesitation Cade sighted on the insurgents through the ACOG scope attached to his M4 carbine. In the split second it took him to acquire them with the scope he ascertained that the men were trying to attach wires to the battery; Cade guessed that they had failed to detonate one of the roadside IEDs on their first attempt.

For Cade, everything slowed down and his senses were heightened, he felt a super awareness wash over him. He could see the three very clearly through the magnified scope and they were fully aware that they were going to meet their maker. A surprised look registered on the nearest insurgent’s face as the bullets tore into him and caused him to crumple over the battery, wires still in hand. The other two terrorists ignored their comrade’s act of martyrdom, rolled his body away and continued on with the task. Cade admired their tenacity, realizing that they were trying to finish the job they had started. He sighted on the man that now held the wires and shot him three times in center mass. The fatal 5.56 hardball broke apart upon impact and tumbled through his body shredding muscle, lung and intestine before lodging in his liver. The remaining man tried to detonate the bomb. He was furiously clicking something with both hands when the Ranger to Cade’s right killed him with a sustained burst from his M-240 SAW. The tango’s body folded over backwards at an unusual angle.

The whump, whump, whump sound of the Apache gunships rotor blades filled the air. Another insurgent materialized from the canal, he was looking up searching for the source of that hated sound when a three round burst from Cade’s rifle struck him in the throat and chin, effectively ending his ability to wage jihad. The Apache gunship orbited overhead, the continuous fire from its nose mounted cannon decimated the rest of the attackers.

In the end, two of their Humvee gun trucks were destroyed and they suffered four KIA, all of whom were riding in the lead vehicle. Six more soldiers were wounded gravely enough to warrant being medevac’d.

In the aftermath of the ambush the EOD guys confirmed that the wires were indeed affixed to two 120mm mortar shells intended to destroy the other vehicles stranded on the berm by the first destroyed Humvee. Cades quick thinking and precise fire saved the rest of his squad from certain destruction and earned him a Bronze Star in the process. He also learned that day, to his relief, that he derived no pleasure from killing another human being. He did however feel no remorse over taking an enemy combatants life.

*****

Wahkeena Falls

Cade put the scope to his eye, the obese walker filled the reticle. A single shot to the forehead dropped her body to the gravel path.

*****

Eat, feed, want..., eat, feed, want..., eat, feed, want.... It was the mantra of the living dead; the cadence drumming autonomously from the instinct-driven part of his brain. He possessed no memories, feelings, or true desires, that part of his brain died when he did. The only urge left in him was to eat, feed, want...and it propelled the legless husk that used to be Stu up the shallow incline from the scene of his first death. Clawing...eat, pulling...feed, inching...wanting to get to the sounds that meant food.

*****

Cade had the unenviable task of searching the dead creature’s clothes for the keys to the van. They were in the front pocket of her wet sweat pants, much too close to her crotch for his liking. After extracting the keys he tossed them to Ike and told him to check the locked van for anything they could use. Surely there would be food and drink that they could liberate.

Ike obliged, and while the kid searched the bus Cade reloaded the shotgun and the magazines for the other weapons. Rawley followed suit.

Ike tossed the sack lunches from the van and went back for the cooler which contained little milk cartons that were still cool. The Coleman cooler was awkward to lug out of the van, but he struggled with it in the stifling heat until it was on the pavement of the parking lot. Catching his breath on the bottom step in the stairwell of the van, Ike let his legs dangle as he ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and drank a carton of cool milk. He called out to the others and asked if they wanted some milk. Mid-sentence he let out a yelp that escalated into a piercing scream.

Stu’s teeth tore into Ike’s Achilles tendon; blood soaked his sock and coursed into his sneaker. Ike fell from the van onto the hot pavement face first; the legless creature crawled on top of him.

Leo, Cade and Rawley sprinted across the grassy median to his aid. Leo arrived first and proceeded to kick at the legless corpse. Rawley yelled for the others to stand back, and then put two rounds from his SKS into the side of the ghouls head. Grimacing from the pain, Ike freed his legs from under the motionless thing that had just bitten him.

He shed his Converse first and then removed the blood drenched tube sock. Ike started to cry when the extent of the damage was revealed. The grim recognition crossed Rawley’s mind that Ike was as good as dead.

Chapter 24

Day 2 Carolina Shores, South Carolina

Brook turned the ignition, the motor throbbed to life. It was by far the biggest vehicle she had ever driven. Outside the banging intensified as the ghouls responded to the engine noise. They had been hammering nonstop since the three took refuge an hour ago. There were so many hungry walkers outside that their combined weight began to compress the door inward.

Carl was inside the bucket and held the chain, hand over hand he began pulling it towards him. With the added weight of the walkers on the door it was much harder to get moving. As soon as the door parted from the floor the undead began spilling into the enclosed area. The more he struggled to open the garage door the harder the bucket bobbed up and down. The movement alerted the swarming corpses of his presence. The door rose slowly while the undead moaned and swiped at Carl bouncing just inches from their gnarled fingers. Before long there were two dozen walkers jammed into the small space; their stench coupled with the trucks exhaust was quickly becoming toxic. Some of the undead clambered up onto the sides of the bucket truck, leaving greasy slug tracks with their decaying bodies. As the last couple of feet of door gave way to sunlight, Carl banged on the roof of the rig with the shotguns barrel. He hoped there was enough clearance to make their getaway; if not he was going to be several inches shorter.

Brook popped up and mashed the throttle under her foot. With only an inch to spare, the commercial vehicle leapt out of the tall garage and into the roadway of the business park. It was an automatic and far easier to drive than Brook had anticipated. It was no sports car but she could still muscle the thing where she wanted it to go.

Two of the undead were still holding on to the truck when Carl popped up from the bucket, shotgun in hand. The ghouls focused their attention on Brook and Raven in the truck’s cab and together started banging on the side windows, their pulpy decaying hands left a grey sheen that clouded the glass. Carl’s first shot peppered one ghoul with buckshot, the undead teenage girl held fast. On the passenger side the older male, missing a few fingers on each hand, was slowly losing purchase on the speeding truck.

Brook tried to shake them off by swerving back and forth in the narrow street. The undead male lost his battle to hang on, bounced off of a small compact car and then impacted the cement. It tried to stand on two broken legs only to collapse back to the roadway. It crawled in the direction of the truck, the unyielding desire for flesh its only master.

The young undead girl by the driver’s side window looked up at Carl. This made for a perfect target. The last shell in the shotgun was a slug; it tore through the ghoul’s skull and destroyed the things brain. Dead again she hung limply, arm caught in the trucks side mirror.

Brook didn’t so much as flinch after the last shot and was relieved to see the gaping hole in the things head. Each bump Brook hit in the road caused it to bob up and down scattering chunks of brain along the way.