Chapter Forty-Nine
The guy on top of me almost smiled when he finally forced the handgun around within a few inches from the side of my head. His finger slid over the trigger in anticipation of firing the kill shot. I mustered all the strength I had left in my body to keep his hand steady, to prevent the gun moving that final inch or so.
I couldn’t hold him off forever and I knew I’d have to think of an alternative plan. And quickly.
My prayers were suddenly answered, albeit in bizarre fashion.
During our struggle, the encroaching zombie had shuffled all the way down the corridor towards us. The skinny guy on top of me suddenly realized the zombie was too close and now a danger. He tried to redirect the handgun to aim at the disheveled corpse closing in on us. I allowed him to move the gun away from my head but held his hand firm. He fired twice in rapid succession but couldn’t aim the firearm at the ghoul to gain a head shot. One round missed the male zombie completely and the other only winged the creature through the bicep.
The guy began jabbering, wide eyed. He glanced at me then at the staggering ghoul. I gripped hard, keeping his hands in place. He tried to rise and haul himself off me but I held him firmly in place.
The male zombie leaned down, the jaws wide open in an aggressive snarl. The militia guy wailed and then screeched loudly as the male zombie bit into the side of his neck and tore away a chunk of flesh. Blood spurted from the wound and splashed down the guy’s shoulder. I was getting covered in the red stuff but I did feel the militia guy’s grip go limp around the handgun.
The male zombie munched on his fleshy morsel before stooping down for another bite. The militia guy thrashed around in pain, trying to release my grip. The ghoul latched onto him again, gnawing at the bloody mess at the side of the guy’s neck. The militia guy screamed and the zombie wrapped its arms around the top of his head, pulling him sideways.
I pushed the militia guy off me and struggled to get to my feet. I crouched and picked up the Glock handgun. I turned and aimed at the militia guy who was crying in pain and attempting to free himself from the zombie’s grip. I was going to put him out of his misery but decided against it.
“No, fuck you,” I callously spat.
I turned to the doorway and saw two more zombies, a bald male and a dark skinned female bundle through the entrance. I hardly had the strength in my arm to raise the handgun but somehow managed it. I fired twice, each a head shot and dropping the two zombies where they stood.
Another male zombie, dressed in ragged beach clothes and with a mop of thick blond hair staggered through the doorway behind the two fallen corpses. I aimed and squeezed the trigger again but the Glock clicked empty.
“Shit,” I grunted and swung the rifle around from my back.
I flinched as another gunshot rang out, echoing through the corridor. The round hadn’t hit me. Somebody had shot the beach bum zombie in front of me. The ghoul rocked forward and sunk to his knees before toppling over on top of the other two dead zombies. A tall militia guy with a hooked nose and homicidal expression on his face stepped through the doorway. The zombie’s bodies blocked the entranceway so I couldn’t close the door without moving the corpses.
The militia guy took one glance at me and aimed his assault rifle in my direction. I instantly recoiled backward and pulled the trigger on the rifle I held. The weapon didn’t fire and I heard several gunshots echo through the corridor. Once again I flinched, expecting to be leaking blood and feeling the effects of pieces of metal ripping through my body. Strangely, I felt no pain and saw no blood.
Blood seeped from the tall militia guy’s mouth and he stumbled forward towards me, his rifle sagging in his grasp. I stepped backwards out of his way and he slumped face first onto the ground. I noticed several gunshot wounds in his back with smoke still rising from the reddened holes.
I glanced back to the doorway and saw a figure emerging from the shadows. I gasped and fiddled with the rifle, realizing it wasn’t cocked.
“Whoa, easy there, cowboy,” a voice said.
Smith came forward through the doorway, kicking the militia guy’s body out of the way. I felt as though I’d never been more pleased to see him in my life. He aimed his rifle at the zombie who was still munching on the corpse of the skinny guy who’d tried to shoot me.
“Save your ammo,” I said. The zombie was preoccupied with eating his victim in one sitting. “Did Freek make it?”
Smith looked downward and shook his head.
“Shit,” I muttered but I wasn’t surprised. “The sniper got away.”
Smith nodded. “I know. I saw her and another guy jump into one of those trucks and head on out of here. I came on down here because I figured you were in a bit of trouble.”
I sighed and nodded. “You were right. I almost got killed about a million times. I tried my best but I couldn’t stop her escaping. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it, kid. We’ll catch up with her soon enough,” Smith said, clapping a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Right now we have to make sure that this place is clear of these fucking militia guys so McElroy can start sending over a few boat parties ashore.”
“You think it’ll be safe to land on the island?” I asked.
“Mac and a few heavily armed guys will be okay. They could boat over under the cover of darkness and give us a hand clearing up the rest of these militia assholes and wiping out the remaining zombies.”
“How are we going to tell them?”
Smith nodded out through the doorway. “We can use one of those searchlights to send a message in Morse code. We know somebody onboard can read it. I’m a little rusty but I think I can still send a message.”
I nodded. “Okay, Smith. It’s a good shout. We could certainly use a hand out here. How are Lowie and the others bearing up?”
Smith flashed me a worried glance. “Not good. I think they got too used to living the good life underground in that damn cellar.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “They seem a little detracted. Maybe we should have left them where they were.”
Smith shrugged. “Too late now, kid. Come on. Let’s get back on up there.”
We reloaded our respective weapons and I slung the rifle around my back. Smith glanced through the doorway to check the coast was clear.
“Climb up onto the roof of the truck and we can reach the upper level,” he instructed. “Ready to rumble?”
“Hold on a moment,” I said.
I darted down the corridor, avoiding the zombie who was busy tearing out the skinny guy’s intestines. I hurried into the room where the female sniper had been hiding. It was another small, dingy office and I saw a white metal cabinet on the wall. I moved quickly to the cabinet and opened it. A set of vehicle keys hung from a hook inside, which presumably were for the remaining truck inside the castle compound. I grabbed the keys and shoved them in my cargo pants pocket.
Smith was waiting by the door when I returned to the corridor. The door was only open a crack and he was staring through the gap with his rifle lowered but held firmly into his shoulder. He turned to look at me as I approached. I pulled the keys out of my pocket, held them up so he could see and jangled them a few feet in front of his face.
“Thought we might need a getaway vehicle.”
Smith nodded then jerked his head towards the doorway. “We’re going to have to be real quick on our toes out there,” he said. “There are zombies all over the place and those militia guys are getting kind of edgy and real trigger happy.”
“Can’t say I blame them,” I muttered. “Have many of them got away?”
Smith shook his head. “It’s hard to tell. It’s total fucking chaos out there.”
“It’s total fucking chaos everywhere, man.”
Smith nodded his head. “Amen to that. You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Smith kicked open the door and moved quickly outside. I followed and was immediately confronted by sounds of rattling gunfire, screams and yells of the undead and dying, the stench of smoke and blood and pandemonium.
“Jesus Christ!” I yelled.
Smith fired a quick burst at a couple of zombies lumbering too close for comfort. “Don’t stop, keep moving,” he shouted.
We ran around to the back of the truck. The vehicle’s tailgate was steeped in shadow and a few feet from the castle’s rear wall. Smith held his rifle one handed and tapped a ladder attached to the rear of the truck. I glanced up and saw the ladder provided access to the vehicle’s roof.
“You go on up,” Smith shouted.
I didn’t argue. I slipped the Glock into the back of my waistband and hurried up the ladder. I thudded along the roof on all fours, allowing Smith some room to climb up. I glanced out over the inner castle compound and my stomach turned over. The whole place was almost overrun with swarms of undead. For all of us to get out of the castle in one piece was going to be one hell of an operation.
Chapter Fifty
“Come on, Wilde Man. We don’t have time to admire the scenery,” Smith yelled out behind me.
I turned, still on my hands and knees and saw Smith gripping the handrail running around the walkway on the castle’s upper level. The armored truck’s roof stood a few feet below the bottom of the walkway and Smith hauled himself through the metal bars.
I padded across the truck roof on all fours, like a kid pretending to be a dog. Smith crouched on the opposite side of the handrails and waved me forward. I stood and reached upward. A couple of rounds ricocheted off the side of the walkway, a few inches to my right, causing me to immediately recoil.
“Hurry it up, Wilde,” Smith hollered. “Get on up here.” He reached out through the bars once again.
I reached up and gripped his hands. Smith pulled me forward but the rifle on my back caught against the top handrail bar.
“Shit, I’m snagged up, Smith,” I yelled.
Smith grunted and shoved the rifle barrel around. The weapon uncomfortably dug into my back but I was able to slide myself between the metal rails and tumbled onto the walkway. My right hip and right knee smacked painfully onto the uneven stone surface as I slam-dunked down sideways.
Smith rolled around, trying to free his legs from beneath my torso. He inadvertently kicked me in the ribs, adding to my aches and pains.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I grunted.
Smith stumbled to his feet and gripped me by my left bicep, hauling me upward.
“Believe me, kid. If I wanted you dead you’d have been in the ground a long time ago.”
Somehow, I knew he wasn’t kidding. The vivid memory of my dream or premonition or whatever the fuck it was flashed through my mind. The image of Smith coldly executing me, Pete and Marlon with the same nonchalance as stomping a few bugs crawling around a kitchen floor stayed in my subconscious for a few seconds.
“Let’s go get Lowie and the others and then send that message to the ship.”
“Okay,” I said, unsure where the hell we were heading.
Smith led the way across the walkway. We scurried along in a stooped stance in attempt to be as invisible as we could. Lowie, Tony and Dan were huddled in the corner of the walkway, where the rear and left side walls met. They were slumped with their backs against the outer fortification and behind one of the searchlights. Lowie cradled Freek’s lifeless body, rocking from side to side with tears streaming down his cheeks. Tony held his head in his hands and Dan looked totally shit scared.
“Wilde Man, you made it out alive!” Dan squawked. “Way to go, dude.”
“We’re not out of this shit storm yet,” I said, rather callously. Maybe I should have sounded more encouraging but I was worried about our exit strategy. If at all we had one.
Smith slung his rifle across his shoulder then grabbed hold of the searchlight and swung it around on its stand so it was facing out to sea.
“Keep me covered, Wilde Man,” he instructed. “Anybody starts shooting at us then make sure you shoot them back.”
I pulled the semi automatic rifle off my back and made sure I cocked it. “You got it,” I yelled.
Smith began to rapidly flick the handle beside the searchlight beam, opening and closing the covers in sequence. I presumed he was sending a Morse code message and I hoped somebody onboard the Russian warship was able to see and be capable of deciphering the series of flicks and flashes.