“Step back!” I yelled. “They can reach you! Step back!” I ran faster, trying not to lose my balance on the uneven surface of the containers.
I was too late. Even as I got within twenty yards, a shooter was dragged screaming down into the teeming mass. Clawed hands ripped away chunks of flesh and chipped teeth tore at clothing and skin. It looked like someone had dropped a piece of hamburger into a pool of piranhas. Blood sprayed as arterial walls were ruptured by ghoul s’ teeth. In a matter of seconds, the screaming stopped as whoever it was died. A pack of zombies stayed hunched over the body, tearing at the meat, stuffing it into their mouths. Blood smeared over hands and arms, dripping down chins and staining dirty clothing.
The other person on the container screamed, “Noooo!” and before I could get to him, he jumped off the container into the pack of hunched over zombies, shooting randomly and kicking zombies away from the body. I ducked as a bullet screamed past my ear, nearly causing me to stumble. He didn’t seem to notice the zombie on his back, biting him in the neck. The man kicked away another zombie, then threw the one on his back off, knocking down a row of zombies. Other ghouls surged forward, and just before they swarmed the man, I could see the face of the shredded body on the ground.
It was Casey. What she was doing out here instead of staying at the town hall where she was supposed to be I had no idea. I turned my attention to the man fighting on the ground. He swung his rifle like a club, but he had no chance. The zombies came in from all sides and bore him to his knees. He fought up one last time and it was then I could see who it was. Martin Oso. My heart sank as his eyes locked with mine, then he disappeared beneath the wave of undead. I brought my rifle up and was not disappointed when the mass of ghouls surged upward again and I could see that Martin had regained his feet. His face was covered in bites and he was bleeding freely from numerous wounds on his arms and neck. The Z’s snarled collectively then rushed him again, their hunger evident in the intensity with which they glared at him.
Martin looked at me again, then nodded as I lined up his head in my sights. A split second before the dead started tearing at him again, my rifle cracked once, the bullet putting a neat hole in Martin’s head. He dropped to the ground, followed by the dead which tore at his fresh corpse. I lowered my rifle and just shook my head.
Charlie dropped his head and shook it gently, his anger at the useless deaths evident in his slightly shaking hands.
The ghouls noticed us after they finished with the bodies of our comrades and set up another chorus of death as they moaned and surged forward. There were a lot of them in this area, but I could see pockets of more of them down the line. I took the scope off my rifle and standing back from the grasping hands that reached over the edge of the container, I proceeded to cut down the zombies that reached for me. I worked my way from the back, shooting methodically. I don’t remember Charlie firing next to me, I just went on autopilot. Aim, fire, shift, aim, fire, shift, aim, fire, shift, aim fire. I started at the back of the mob and slowly worked my way forward. I saw Charlie doing the same and he was as disciplined as I was. Inside, I was furious. Martin knew better than to shoot the way he was and not only did he get himself killed, he got another team member killed as well. If he wasn’t dead, I would have kicked his ass.
I emptied my magazine, replaced it with another one and then went to work again. At the end of my second clip, I had corpses laid out like a macabre carpet. On Charlie’s side, the same carpet was laid off to the right. In front of us, were still the grasping hands and I put a loaded clip into the rifle, noting absently the heat coming off the barrel. I stepped carefully forward and peered over at the dead. When they saw me, they again moaned and reached for me, but I had nothing for them except release from their prison.
I fired quickly, killing six of them in short order and Charlie finished off the rest. I looked over at him and nodded, words being useless at this point. We gathered our empty magazines and began walking down the fence line, heading towards the masses of zombies in the distance. Out on the open land I could see distant shapes slowly moving towards our position, but paid them no mind. We’d kill them when they got here, no sooner.
As we reached the main point of the zombies’ attack, I could see Sheriff Harlan walking up and down his line of shooters, encouraging them, and telling them to aim for the back of the horde, just like we had discussed the night before. It was hard to ignore the grasping hands that reached up, but they couldn’t risk the zombies climbing up. As it was, they might have done it anyway, just from crushing each other in the press to get the succulent pink flesh just out of reach. The container we were standing on rocked gently from the onslaught, but it stayed in place, being bolted to the container next to it. On the initial tour of the defenses Harlan had said most of the containers had been secured, but not all. The ones by the lake were not, the logic being that the zombies appeared to avoid immersion in water, therefore if they made it through, they wouldn’t go far.
I walked along the fence, followed by Charlie, and we saw other groups of men shooting down the ghouls and adding to the grey, lifeless mass out on the plain. A lot of ammo was wasted, but the men seemed to have enough. If we ran out, we’d have to do the job the old fashioned way, but that could be done. The focus now was to eliminate the threat of being overwhelmed.
As we turned the corner past the lake, I began to hear screams from inside the perimeter. I hadn’t noticed it before, with all the firing going on, but now it seemed like there was something seriously wrong. I jogged along the cargo containers and saw what had happened. A bolt had not been tightened properly, allowing the crowd of zombies to filter in. The gap was only wide enough to allow one zombie in at a time, but it had been open long enough to allow a significant number of zombies inside the town. They had spread out as they wandered in and by the screams, had found new victims.
“Shit! They’re in! Sheriff Harlan!” I yelled into the radio, attracting the attention of several ghouls on the ground.
“What you need, son?” came the laconic reply.
“There’s been a breach! They’re in! They’re in! Fall back and get your men into the town!” I shouted as Charlie and I raced down a nearby ramp. I shot the nearest zombie and Charlie shot another one as we raced over the open ground towards Route 113. The zombies had followed the road into the town, attracted by the firing they were hearing on the north side and were headed straight for the heaviest population center. I estimated at least five hundred zombies had made it in, and the number was increasing.
12
A shrill scream sounded form a nearby house and I skidded to a halt outside the small dwelling. It was a one story house. The door hung open and another scream sounded.
“I’m in,” I said and started for the door as Charlie took up a position outside the house. Five zombies were making their way across the lawn, but Charlie would deal with them.
I slung my rifle over my shoulder and drew my SIG as I approached the house. The open door allowed me to see into the small living room and I could see things were not as they were supposed to be. The coffee table was across the room and knick knacks were all over the floor. I could see into the kitchen and nothing seemed out of place in there. A scream sounded again as a shot came from outside. I could hear a moaning coming from the hallway leading to the back of the house and I circled wide, aiming down the hallway. I could see a bare foot around the corner and the missing chunk of flesh exposing the bone gave me a pretty good clue what was in front of me.
A second shot sounded outside and another scream penetrated the house. The zombie in front of me pounded on whatever was keeping it from its prey, moaning again. I couldn’t risk a shot since the bullet would likely go through the zombie and the door it was in front of, so I was going to have to use my pickaxe. Trouble was, in the confines of the house, I doubted I was going to have enough room for a killing swing.