***
“Let me see the scope,” Kirk said as he came up next to Dave, startling him out of his memory.
“Jumpy?” Kirk asked as he grabbed the night vision glasses.
“Sorry, the guy in that truck sort of scares me.”
“More than me?” Kirk asked smiling. “Just busting your balls,” Kirk said as he looked through the scope. “Holy shit, did you see that gun?”
“I did. That’s why I had Greg get you.”
“Well go get it then.”
“Wait…the gun…by myself? How?”
“Relax, you take shit too seriously,” Kirk said smiling. “Just busting your balls again.”
“Ha ha,” Dave laughed insincerely, hoping Kirk didn’t pick up on it.
“Hey, dipshit!” Kirk yelled.
Dave was about to ask ‘Him?’ when Greg called out ‘Yeah?’ from behind them.
“Go release the zombies,” Kirk said.
Greg raced away.
Those fucking zombies, Dave thought. They gave him the willies just thinking about them and that they housed them in the same building had been one of the reasons he had a major loss in sleep.
***
“Something’s going on,” Azile said in my ear.
Not sure how she thought I could miss the loud metallic clanging in the otherwise still night.
“Sounds like a security door rolling up,” Azile said. “They had them at the loading docks where I worked.”
“Not good, not good,” I said as I charged the weapon. A heavy cloud chose that exact moment to cross over our small source of light. The moon was completely blanketed as we both heard the sounds of metal scraping along pavement. Sparks were shooting up from the ground as what we later learned were chains being dragged along. We couldn’t see what was dragging them, but it was clear they were headed in our direction and fast.
“Shoot!” Azile begged.
“I can’t see anything. Get us out of here!”
Using the sparks as an indicator, whatever was coming had halved their distance and were not slowing. Without being able to see what was coming I could not shoot I was ninety-nine percent sure what it was, but not a hundred.
I heard the whir as the truck tried to catch. “Azile, now would be a good time.”
“Won’t start,” she said as she pumped the gas and messed with the stick shift.
The cloud cover passed, my nightmare was revealed as hundreds of zombies raced toward the truck. Bullets and tracers lit up the night as I hammered them into the oblivion they so rightfully deserved.
***
“Fuck,” Dave said as he watched the hellfire issue from the truck. He was glad he hadn’t taken a shot. He would have never got a second one off if he had missed, and he was no marksman.
“He’s killing my pets!” Kirk shouted. “Kill him!” he shouted at Dave.
“I don’t have a shot.”
“Make one or you’ll be running out there.”
Dave lined up a shot. His crosshairs dancing wildly as he made the attempt. The shot went wide blasting through the windshield.
***
“Fuck!” I shouted as the windshield blasted out away from me. I had caught the muzzle flash from my peripheral vision and swung the M240 in the general direction. Bullets slammed into and through the thin aluminum shell of the building.
***
Bullets danced over the heads of Dave and Kirk as they dropped for cover.
“That might have been a bad idea.” Kirk was smiling again. Broken glass, debris and dust were still raining down on them long after the bullets had ceased their attempt at ending their lives. Kirk didn’t get back up to look out the windows until the gun started up again and thankfully not in their direction.
***
I was not egotistical enough to think that I had killed the threat from the third story window, but I imagine I had put the fear of whatever deity he believed in into his heart, and as long as he embraced that fear, I’d be fine. “How’s it going, Azile? I’m running a little low on ammo.”
“I’m trying, stop yelling at me!” she screamed back.
***
“Recall the zombies!” Kirk yelled as he raced down to the first floor.
Dave stayed where he was. Recalling the zombies meant putting out some of their prisoners as bait and he didn’t want to be part of it. “I should have left with Bill,” he said softly.
“You say something?” Greg asked.
“What’d you hear?” Dave asked.
“Something about you wishing you’d left. I’m going to have to tell Kirk.”
“Tell him this for me,” Dave said as he put a round in Greg’s chest. Dave ran to the opposite end of the building and down the two flights.
“What the fuck is going on out there?” Len asked as Dave nearly plowed into him.
Len had the unenviable task of guarding the door that was located the furthest from the action.
“Armageddon, Len, I’m getting out of here.”
“You know the rules, Dave, nobody in…and especially nobody out.”
“Len, just let me go. Or, better yet, come with me.”
Len actually did think about it for a moment. “Shit, Dave, I’d like to, but you saw what he did to Bill. I can’t go through that.”
“Just let me go, Len.”
“I can’t. There’s one way out from the back of this building, who do you think he’s going to blame?”
“Just say you didn’t see anything.”
“But I did and I’m a horrible liar.”
“Fuck, Len, I’m sorry” Dave said as he shot Len in the midsection.
Len fell back into the door as he placed his hands over the wound. “That fucking hurts, Dave,” Len said as he slid down the door.
“I’m sorry, man.” Dave grabbed Len’s legs to move him out of the way.
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be,” Len said as he pulled his .38 Special from his holster. He drilled a hole in the top of Dave’s head. The smell of expended rounds and burnt brains dominated the small enclave. Dave was dead before he could form the thought.
“Asshole. Who does that to their friend?” Len said, referring to Dave’s whipping of Bill. He lifted his shirt and his bulletproof vest; a fist-sized bruise was already forming on his stomach. “That’s gonna hurt,” Len said as he slowly worked himself back up into a standing position. He opened the door quickly, making sure nothing was out there. His plan was to drag Dave out so that he wouldn’t bleed all over his guard station and then a new thought formed in his mind.
“Fuck it.” He ran for the tree line.
***
I had maybe fifteen rounds left when the zombies stopped coming. Fifteen rounds to a machinegun is like eating one potato chip; it’s not enough.
“You stopped shooting, Mike, are you out of ammo,” Azile said, checking under the dash for potential truck starting problems.
“The zombies are heading back in,” I said, trying to figure out what was going on.
“Why?” Azile asked, and that was immediately followed by the screams of the reasons ‘why.’
“They’re using people to bring them back.” I put my head down on the butt stock of my gun.
“What?” Azile asked in surprise, then she figured it out. “Shoot the zombies!”
“I would,” I told her sadly, “but I don’t have enough rounds, and I don’t know exactly where the people are. I’d just as likely kill them as save them.”