Authors: James Cook
Our real purpose was to assess the threat that this new group posed to us. The campsites we found gave the people using them a good vantage point from which to watch the housing development. They had clearly been there long enough to notice us working among the houses below, clearing out dead bodies. We figured that if they were friendly, they most likely would have tried to make contact by now. Steve guessed that they probably were trying to determine our strength. Maybe they wanted the development for themselves. That didn’t make much sense to me, considering that there was ample room for hundreds of people to live there, but I never underestimate the human capacity for stupidity.
We outfitted ourselves with camouflage battle fatigues, and Steve showed us how to use face paint to conceal our exposed skin. He gave us some pointers on moving quietly through dense foliage, and we spent a few hours practicing out in the woods. We were not skilled woodsmen by any stretch of the imagination, but we didn’t sound like bull elephants either. The trick was to use the natural sounds of the forest to mask your movements, move slowly, watch where you step, and not walk at a steady pace. Easier said than done.
Since stealth was our goal, we only took weapons with suppressors. We found a few M4 rifles that were equipped with them from when we raided Alan’s gun shop. Cody and Steve each took one, and I gave Stan my other H&K carbine. I brought my Kel-Tec and loaned Steve the sniper rifle. Cody took the Sig Mosquito. We did not have any other pistols with silencers, so Stan and Steve brought .45 caliber handguns with them. They promised not to use them unless they had no other choice. Steve fitted some good quality optics to the M4’s, and I gave Stan my other red-dot sight. After a few rounds of discussion, we decided that Steve would function as both point man and, if necessary, as sniper. Cody would be our designated hitter if we encountered any undead. The Sig was the quietest gun we had, and if possible we would use it exclusively to kill any infected we came across. Stan and I were riflemen, and we would open fire only if Cody and Steve ran into something they couldn’t handle on their own.
The radios we used had headsets that plugged directly into the handset, and a toggle switch that connected to an earpiece. They allowed us to communicate quietly and effectively, even when out of sight of one another. The four of us brought assault packs with food, extra ammo, first aid kits, water, and spare batteries for the radios. We each loaded ten thirty-round magazines, one in our rifles, and the other nine on our tactical vests. I still preferred my load bearing harness, but the MOLLE gear let me carry more ammo. Steve had a pair of military issue night vision goggles that he brought along. I thought about asking him where he got them, but decided against it. What difference did it make?
The night before we left, we spent a couple of hours studying maps of the housing development and discussing the terrain around it. We wanted to make sure that everyone knew the lay of the land, and established a couple of different rally points in case we got separated. Our first rally point was the water tower that Justin and Rick discovered. If that was a no-go, then we would meet at an abandoned gas station a half mile north of the development. If all else failed, we agreed to retreat back to the compound. Steve and I got together with Bill, and discussed beefing up security around the compound. After he agreed to do so, we called it a night.
We set out well before dawn the next day. Steve used his night vision goggles and his radio to guide us through the dense forest. We could talk to each other by simply pressing a button on the cord connecting the earpiece to the handset. Push to talk, release to listen. Easy. We reached the housing development under cover of darkness, and Steve set each of us up near the security fence where we had a wide field of view. He took a little time to help us conceal ourselves into the landscape before moving on. When all three of us were in position, he set out to do a little reconnaissance.
“Everybody stay alert, and stay quiet. Make sure your rifles have a round chambered and safeties off. Keep your eyes open, and report anything unusual. Cody, be ready to move if anyone spots a creep. Radio check at five minute intervals. Any questions?” Steve asked.
No one responded.
“Okay. If I run into a situation where I can’t send a radio check, I’ll just key the mike three times, so keep your ears open.”
Everything Steve said were things we had gone over the day before, but it made him feel better to say it. I spent the next couple of hours trying not to move around too much or let my mind wander off. I tried not to think about my rapidly filling bladder, or the bugs that buzzed and crawled around my face. I marked time on my wristwatch, and checked in every five minutes. The only movement I saw was tree squirrels, birds, and a small herd of deer that wandered by about a hundred yards to the south. Steve had positioned my post so that my back was facing east. I felt the sun warming my back as it rose above the horizon. Sunlight filtered through the pine and oak boughs above me, dappling the forest floor with scattered patches of golden light. I was just about to initiate another radio check when I heard my earpiece click three times. I clicked once in response, just like we had planned. There was a ten second delay, and another click. That one was Cody. Another ten seconds, and another click from Stan.
From here on out, we would check in by keying the talk button on the handset until Steve gave the all clear. I hoped the batteries would hold up. Another hour went by before we heard from Steve. My bladder was a burning ball of pain in my mid-section, and my stomach was growling for food when he finally checked in.
“This is Steve.” He said in a low, hushed voice. “Proceed to second rally point. Move slow and quiet. Maintain comms with each other, but do it quietly. We have company. I think they are well away from you, but don’t take any chances. If I’m not at the rally point in an hour, bug out and head back for the compound.”
We all gave a quick affirmative, and I started making my way to the backup rally point. I moved low and slow, making as little noise as possible. I found a thick tangle of kudzu that covered a copse of dead pine trees, and hunkered down behind it. It made good cover, and I used the opportunity to take a much needed piss. With my bladder empty, it was a lot easier to concentrate on controlling my movements. My stomach was growling something fierce, so I dug a protein bar out of my cargo pocket and washed it down with water from my canteen. I could deal with the hunger, but I did not want noise from my groaning stomach to give away my position.
I didn’t run into any trouble on my way to the gas station. I keyed my radio and asked if anyone else was there yet. Cody was hiding behind the tree line a few yards behind the building. Stan was still inbound and estimated it would be fifteen minutes before he got there. I stuck to the woods, and Cody guided me to his position over the radio. I spotted him sitting behind a large fallen oak tree, sweeping the road and the parking lot through the scope on his M4. I gave a low whistle, and he turned toward me. I held my hand down at knee level and waved it a few times. Cody spotted it and motioned me forward.
I low crawled slowly to where he sat, and kept my head down behind the tree. Cody had everything beyond the tree line covered, so I put my back against the massive log and watched our flanks. Stan arrived not long after, and he and I crawled away from Cody’s position to try and get a better view of our surroundings. We made it to the top of a low hill not far away, and used Stan’s binoculars to scan the surrounding forest.
“So what do you think is happening with Steve?” He asked.
“I don’t know, but he definitely found our friends from the neighborhood.” I replied. “There must be some problem with the water tower. We were only supposed to come here if the tower was compromised.”
“I’m thinking our new friends found the tower and are using it for themselves.” Stan said.
“You’re probably right. Not much we can do about it right now though. I’m going to head over to that hollow to the north.” I said, and pointed. Stan nodded. “Cody has a good spot, and you should be fine up here. If I can get up there, we’ll have a three way crossfire set up for anybody with bad intentions. We can use optics to watch each other’s backs.”
Stan covered me, and I made my way to the hollow. I climbed about halfway up one of the hillsides, and took position behind a massive boulder jutting upward from the ground. I had a good view of Stan’s position, and I could cover anyone stupid enough to skyline themselves over the ridge to my left. Cody could see me and watch out for anyone coming over the hill behind me. Being spread out as we were, even if one of us got blindsided, the other two could back him up. Once we all settled in, it simply became a matter of waiting.
Half an hour went by. It was silent save for the sounds of the forest. I was accustomed to the buzz of cicadas, the chirp of sparrows and marlins, and the rustling of pine branches overhead. I could pick out noises not made by the woods, or the creatures living in it. My hackles went up when I heard a faint, droning hum in the far distance to the northwest. The gas station was directly in front of me, and the noise was approaching from my right, heading southeast. It was definitely a vehicle, and it sounded like it was going to pass by right in front of me. The nearest road to us was over a mile away, and judging by the increasing rumble, the car had not turned down it.
Within a minute, I saw a pickup truck crest the hilltop less than half a mile from where I sat. A painted camouflage motif covered the exterior. It had an array of lights across the roof and thick roll cage bars slanting between the cab and the bed. A brush guard similar to the one on my own truck covered the grill, and the body floated nearly a foot above the wheels on a high lift kit. Huge swamp tires with thick, deep treads beat a rapid staccato thrum across the pavement as it approached. Three men stood in the back hanging on to the roll cage with the barrels of assault rifles protruding over their shoulders. From my vantage, I could make out the outline of the driver, and another person in the passenger seat.
“We have five people inbound.” I said into the radio. “At least three are packing heat, so assume they all are. Stay quiet, stay out of sight. Over.”
Stan and Cody gave short affirmatives, and I watched the truck begin to slow down. The annoying roar from the tires lowered in pitch until individual slaps of rubber on tar echoed into the hills. With all that damned noise, these idiots were ringing a dinner bell for any infected within a half mile radius. As they pulled closer, I noticed a sixth person in the bed of the truck. Someone had bound him hand and foot, and he appeared to be unconscious.
“Oh shit, please tell me that is not Steve.” I mumbled.
The truck rolled to a halt between the pumps under the gas station awning. I slowly pulled a small pair of binoculars out of my tactical vest and peered at the person in the back of the truck. It wasn’t Steve. His hair was black, matted and filthy. Steve has sandy blond hair almost the same color as my own. My instincts were warning me that something was not right about this, but the reasonable part of my brain was telling me not to jump to conclusions. Anyone possessing an ounce of desire for self-preservation would be carrying a weapon these days, and the men in the truck might have had a good reason for restraining the individual in the back. I tried to get a better look at him, but he had his back to me. Just as I was about to radio Cody and Stan, I heard the mike click.
“This is Steve, how copy? Over.”
About fucking time.
I thought.
“Eric here, loud and clear.” I said in a low voice.
Cody and Stan responded by keying the radio three times. The gunmen probably couldn’t hear them from where they were, but the two SWAT officers weren’t taking any chances. The other two people inside the cab got out with rifles clutched in their fists. The driver had a pistol holstered on his right hip.
“Eric, Stan, I have your positions. Cody, I’m guessing you’re behind the gas station in my blind spot. Give me one click for every ten yards you estimate between you and the pumps. Over.”
My earpiece clicked four times. I approved of his estimate.
“Cody, do you have a visual on all five hostiles? Click once for yes, twice for no. Over.”
I heard two clicks.
There was a pause. Steve probably took a moment to say something four lettered and colorful. The word ‘hostiles’ echoed in my mind. Steve must have known something we didn’t. He had also managed to spot Stan and I, even though we were both well hidden in the thick undergrowth. Impressive.
“Steve, Eric. How do we know they’re hostile? Over.”
“Trust me. I’ll explain later. We need to take these bastards out. Don’t shoot the driver, he’s the one with a pistol on his hip, and the tall guy in jean shorts, hiking boots, and a baseball cap. I’ll take those two personally, I want at least one of them alive. Cody, you take the one with the denim jacket sitting on the yellow barrier. Stan, the fucktard with the pony-tail is yours. Eric, you take the one still standing in the back of the truck. Aim high, I don’t want you to hit the hostage. Everyone clear?”