Authors: Glyn Gardner
“Do you know what happened to them?” asked Mike.
“Yeah,” he replied. “They got about halfway here, and ran into a dozen of them things. They killed a few but there were too many. It worked though. Every creep in the neighborhood has been making a bee-line for that damned house for 24 hours now.”
By now the group had shed their back-packs, and were making themselves comfortable on the floor. Willie strode into the kitchen. “You guys hungry? We ain’t got a lot but we still got some sandwich fixin’s.” Mike, Wilcox and Theresa followed him into the kitchen. Mike couldn’t help but notice that the refrigerator was pretty empty. He fixed himself a sandwich and took it to the living room with the rest of the group. He ripped it in half and gave Jen half.
The two groups spent the rest of the day getting to know each other. SSgt Brown checked on the ammo situation. It wasn’t good. His group was ok, but Willie’s group was really short. They had 50 rounds for the AK, and Maria only had 15 rounds for the .380 she had. Mrs. White, it turned out, had 100 rounds for her Ruger 10/22. Something would have to be done about that.
About 3:30 pm, they all heard the sound of jet engines. SSgt Brown and Willie went into the back yard to assess the situation. As they looked up, a B-52 passed low over the house. Then another and another flew overhead. SSgt Brown counted 21 bombers in all. They were followed 20 minutes later by a group of 6 C-17’s.
“What do you make of that?” asked Willie.
“I’m not sure. But, if I had to guess, I’d say they’re evacuating Barksdale.”
“That’s not good is it?”
“I’d say that means that help isn’t coming any time soon.”
“Shit.”
“Did you guys have something planned?”
“Not really. Mom can’t travel for more than an hour or so before her oxygen runs out. We were just going to ride it out until the cavalry arrived.”
“Well, we’re here.” They both chuckled at that.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but you guys are a bit of a disappointment as a rescue party.” Again, they chuckled.
“Well, we need to figure something out. We just added a bunch more mouths to feed. We can’t stay here.”
“How is mom supposed to move? She can’t run, and she needs oxygen.”
“I don’t know…” The two returned to the house and told the other survivors what they had seen.
After a dinner of granola bars and very ripe fruit, most of the group turned in for the night. It had been a long day. SSgt Brown, Jackson, Theresa, and Mike agreed to split the guard sifts for the night.
Day 8
Wanda White’s house
Theresa was on guard, when about 5:15 in the morning, the music stopped, and the air conditioner cut off. Theresa walked into the bathroom and tried to turn on a light. It remained dark. She then went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Its light bulb also remained dark.
Knowing the danger, she walked to the front of the house and peered out the window. Most of the hoard was still clawing at the house down the street. But some were not. The numbers of zombies just wandering around had grown. And the street lights were out.
She cautiously moved through the house until she found SSgt Brown, sleeping on the floor in what used to be a study. She shook him gently until his eyes opened. “We have a problem.” He rubbed his eyes, and looked at his watch. He’d been asleep for 5 solid hours.
“What?” he croaked.
“The power is out,” she reported. He looked at her as if he didn’t understand. “The power is out and the music is off.”
His mind was still foggy. So the music’s off, he thought to himself.
“There’s like a thousand zombies out front and they aren’t trying to eat that guy’s stereo anymore.” Oh shit, he thought.
“Go get Jackson, Mike, and Willie up. Do it quietly. Then get back to the front of the house and make sure our bags are packed.” The girl did as she was told.
She continued to peer out the window. The zombies continued to shuffle up and down the street without any rhyme or reason. She could feel the panic welling up inside of her. She thought of Davy. Could she do it? If it came down to it could she end it herself? Or would she end up as one of the walking dead. Would they be referring to her dead corps by name? No, she couldn’t do that to them. If it came down to it, she wouldn’t be turned.
She could hear SSgt Brown and Willie talking in the back of the house. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the discussion was obviously getting heated. What are they talking about? Soon, they were in the living room. The whole group was there. Mrs. White woke from her slumber in the recliner. Theresa could hear Willie talking now.
“…Can’t leave.”
“Of course you have to leave,” the elder White said. “Are you gonna stay here and starve to death?”
“Momma, we can’t leave you here. You can’t stay here by yourself.”
“Baby, as soon as this thing started I was on borrowed time. You know that.”
“But Momma, we can figure something out. We can get you out of here.”
“How? You gonna carry me on your back? Maybe these strong young men can carry me on a litter or something? What about my oxygen? The power’s out. No baby, I can’t. If I go with you, it’ll be the death of you all.”
Tears began to well up in Willie’s eyes. Theresa could relate. She remembered sitting in the bathroom with her dead father in a tub of water next to her. Her heart went out to Willie. She just wanted to hug him and tell him it’s ok.
“Momma, I can’t leave you. I’ve watched too many of my friends and family die. I won’t leave you here alone. You have to understand that. I’m not leaving you.”
She stood up, took the oxygen tube off her face, and walked into the kitchen. “Baby, come eat something. Right now, let’s get some breakfast.” She reached into a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one.
“Momma,” he started.
“What, are they gonna kill me? Baby, sit down and eat something. Stop worrying so much.” Willie did as he was told, pouring a bowl of cereal. “You all get something to eat. You’re gonna need your strength.” They also did as she ordered.
After she finished her cigarette, she returned to her recliner. After everyone was finished, she called Willie to her. No one could hear what she said to him. They could all see the tears flowing freely down his face.
He stood and walked to the back of the house, returning with an old army surplus rucksack. It was about half full. He looked back at her, eyes still dripping with tears.
“You go ahead and get packed, baby. It’ll be ok.” Her voice was calm but firm. He continued into the kitchen. Theresa could see the tears running down his dark cheeks. She looked back to Mrs. White. NO! The old lady had the little rifle underneath her chin. Crack! The old woman’s head snapped back, then forward again. Blood began running from her nose and mouth.
Willie dropped the rucksack and ran into the living room. Jen jumped at the sound, and then rushed to the old lady’s side. The two attempted to revive her. Jen felt her neck for a carotid pulse. There was nothing and she wasn’t breathing.
Theresa knew what Wanda White had done. It was the same thing Davy had done for her. She sacrificed herself, thus keeping the rest of the group from risking themselves for her sake. The young teen began to cry.
EEEKKKK! The sound of something scratching on the window snapped her back to the present. She moved the shades an inch or so and peered through it. She couldn’t contain the scream that escaped her mouth. She stared face-to-face with a fat zombie man. Its eyes locked onto hers. Its mouth opened, and a moan escaped. It continued to claw at the window, becoming more frantic with each passing moment.
Theresa backed away, screaming as she did. “Oh God, they’re here! We have to go!” Jackson was the first to come to her aid. He too could hear the creature clawing at the window. He peered through the shades. He counted at least a dozen zombies on or near the porch.
“We got about a dozen Zeds on the porch. We gotta get moving boss.” SSgt Brown ordered everyone to grab their stuff and go out the back. Jen put her arm around Willie. “I’m sorry Willie. But we need to go. We can’t do any more good here.” She reached down and picked up the little rifle. The big black man followed her. As he exited the back door, he glanced back at his mother and wept.
“Jackson, you and Theresa get us over the fence and the hell outa here. Keep moving north”
“Roger boss.” The trooper mounted the fence, confirming that there were no zombies on the other side. All clear. He hopped down and waited for the rest of the group to get over. They found themselves in an easement between two neighborhoods. There were privacy fences on both sides for about 100 yards. Jackson turned left and headed west, Theresa following a few steps behind him. The rest of the group followed, SSgt Brown and Willie bringing up the rear.
They continued on for about 75 yards when Jackson held up his left fist and froze. SSgt Brown passed the rest of the group, kneeling beside the young trooper.
“What’ve you got?” he whispered.
“Listen,” replied Jackson.
SSgt brown could hear the shuffling of feet, lots of feet.
“Take a peek.” Jackson crept to the corner. He knelt and peered around the corner. To his right there were several houses. The yards were not fenced, and they were farther apart than the ones they had just passed. Between the houses a large group of zombies were shuffling around. Jackson counted at least 40 of the monsters. He crept back to SSgt Brown slowly and quietly.
“’Bout 40 Zeds around four houses. No fences. No signs of life, and no cover.”
“Ok, we move back east. Take the lead.”
Jackson waved at Theresa as he passed her. She fell in line behind him, as did the rest of the group. Jackson continued east for another 200 yards. He could hear feet shuffling inside several of the yards he passed. He could see a road crossing their path about 50 yards away. As he approached, he could hear more shuffling feet.
Again, he froze, left fist next to his ear. SSgt Brown again knelt next to the trooper.
“Same shit, boss.”
“Check it out.” The young trooper crept to the corner again. As he did, the sounds of shuffling feet on grass became more distinct. He reached the corner. Shit, this isn’t good. Slowly, he pulled his bayonet from its scabbard. He slid it over the muzzle of his rifle. Click. It snapped into place.
He looked around the corner. What he saw, took his breath away. There were at least 100 zombies at the corner. Several were within 10 yards. He began to slowly back away. Click! The sound of the breaking twig was just about the loudest sound Jackson had ever heard.
He froze. Shit! Then he heard the moaning. Realizing he had given their position away, Jackson stood and began running back to the group. He could see SSgt Brown directing the group into a makeshift skirmish line. Shit, don’t let anyone shoot me.
Jackson continued running along the north side of the easement. Mike, who was on the south end of the line, was the first to fire. His Mini-14 round connected with the closest zombie to Jackson. It fell as the others began shooting. Jackson dropped, sliding at SSgt Brown’s feet like a runner stealing 2
nd
base. He rolled into the prone position and began picking targets and firing.
The end of the easement was quickly filling up with advancing zombies.
“There’s about a hundred of them out there!” he reported to SSgt Brown.
“Find us a clear yard!” He ordered. Jackson crawled between SSgt Brown and Theresa. He pulled his head over the closest fence. There below him were two zombies clawing at the fence. He let go, falling to the ground. The next two yards also contained zombies. The third yard was empty. He climbed the fence, straddling it.
“Here! Over here!” he yelled.
SSgt Brown began pulling people off the firing line by their waist bands, and pointing at Jackson. Theresa was first, followed by Maria, Willie and the rest. Mike was the last to move. As he turned, he saw a large group of zombies moving towards them from the opposite direction. He estimated that the group they were engaged with was about 30 yards from fence they were going over, and the other group was about 75 yards coming from the opposite direction.
Jackson was on top of the fence, helping others to climb over. As soon as Theresa cleared the fence, she ran to the back door of the house, covering that area. Maria and Willie followed as they entered the yard. Wilcox and Jen each ran to the fence next to the house. Jen’s side had a gate, Wilcox’s did not. Neither one could see any zombies on the other side.
After SSgt Brown cleared the fence, Jackson took one last look around. He estimated that there were at least 100 zombies in the easement between the fence lines. He couldn’t help but think how much of a shooting gallery it would have been if they had more automatic weapons. It could have been like fish in a barrel. He hopped off the fence into the yard.
“Forget the house,” SSgt Brown ordered. “Let’s get through the gate and get outa this fucking neighborhood. Jackson, take point. Willie, back him up and point him in the right direction.”