Rise of the Undead (Book 5): Apocalypse Z Page 9

  “What?”

  “That she was the only person I cared about enough to want to say goodbye. I needed to see her one last time, and I realized I loved her more than life itself.”

  “Aw,” Dylan said, visibly melting. “That’s so sweet.”

  Saul nodded. “But you know Tara. She’s a fighter, and she’d just synthesized her second batch of the cure.”

  “What happened to the first batch?”

  “Every person who took it died a horrible death and came back as a zombie within minutes,” Saul said with a shudder. He could still see it when he closed his eyes: Tara’s last patient screeching like a mad thing while it threw itself at the walls of its cage with bloody froth bubbling from its lips.

  “I bet you were scared,” Dylan said. “Tara too.”

  “I was, but she didn’t show it. She told me with full confidence that the second batch would work.”

  “And it did?”

  “Of course it did. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Saul asked with a low laugh.

  Dylan punched him on the arm. “Don’t mock me. That was a great story.”

  “Yeah, well. I only found out later that Tara was about to trash the second batch when I arrived. She thought it was complete rubbish.”

  “What?” Dylan asked with a disbelieving laugh.

  “Yup. When I asked her why she took the chance, she shrugged and said that the second batch worked because it had to.” Saul shook his head. “She never even tied me up. I could have turned into a zombie and torn her to pieces. But she never believed I would.”

  Dylan whistled. “She’s one amazing woman.”

  “That she is.” Saul glanced at the sky above their heads and cleared his throat. “This is it. The sun’s up.”

  “Thanks for telling me your story. I won’t forget it,” Dylan said, turning back to the campus. “Now, let’s get Tara out of there.”

  “Agreed.” Picking up the binoculars, Saul tried again. With slow precision, he studied the campus layout. He counted four watchtowers, each manned by two guards. Two more men patrolled the gate, while an unknown number remained hidden inside the buildings.

  Afterward, he handed over the binoculars. “Take a look.”

  “What do you think?” Dylan asked after a couple of minutes.

  “We can take them, I’m sure of it,” he replied.

  “What about those we can’t see?”

  “By the time they realize we’re here, we’ll be through the gates already. Besides, there can’t be more than twenty, according to Grissom.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Dylan said.

  “Let’s get back to the group.”

  They eased away from their vantage point and made their way down the hill at a rapid pace. Once they reached the convoy, Saul called the group together. “Ginger, what do you have to report?”

  “We scouted the roads, and there’s no sign of movement. We didn’t see any snipers leading up to the campus either.”

  “That’s good news. Misty? What about you and Richard?” Saul asked.

  “It’s the same on the other side,” Misty said. “No snipers, no traffic. Nothing.”

  “Alright, listen up. Here’s the plan,” Saul said, laying it out. “We’ll advance in a single line until we get close enough to split up. At that point, I’ll give the signal, and each Humvee will head for a specific tower. There are four Humvees, one for each tower. Gunners, this is your moment to shine. Make sure you take out the two guards. Those fifty calibers will punch through them like they’re made out of paper.”

  “What signal?” Rita asked.

  “I’ll let off a volley of shots at the gate. With any luck, I can take out the two guards operating it before hitting the tower adjacent,” Saul said. “Rita, you’re driving, and Dylan, you’re riding shotgun. Cover us.”

  Rita and Dylan nodded.

  “The same goes for each vehicle. The gunners do the shooting, the drivers focus on getting them where they need to be, and the shotguns provide cover,” Saul said.

  “Which Humvee targets which tower?” Misty asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

  Saul laid it out, directing each to their target before adding, “Once you’ve taken the tower out, head straight for the gate. With the guards out of commission, we should be able to punch right through.”

  “Then what?” Rita asked. “Aren’t there more of them inside the buildings?”

  “Yes, about twenty more. Thirty max,” Saul said.

  Rita rocked back on her heels. “That’s a lot.”

  “Yes, but remember. These guys aren’t soldiers. When they hear the noise, they’ll come running out like a bunch of amateurs. Easy prey for the gunners on top. Once most of them are down, we’ll advance inside,” Saul explained. “As the most experienced one here, I’ll take the lead. Understood?”

  A chorus of nods rippled through the group. A few shouted out general questions, which Saul answered with calm confidence. When silence fell upon the group, he asked, “Is everyone clear about their roles?”

  Another wave of nods followed.

  “Good. Let’s move out,” Saul said, before pausing for a moment. “Two more things. The last Humvee through the gate needs to close it. We don’t want any undead in the vicinity to flood the grounds. They’ll be drawn to the noise. Richard, Misty, and Dan, that’s your job.”

  “Understood,” Richard said, and Misty flashed a thumbs-up. Dan didn’t answer, but that was normal. He never spoke much, to begin with.

  “Also, try not to engage King and Perez directly. They’re the most dangerous of the lot and better left to me. That does not include you, Richard. I bet you could take even me out,” Saul said, speaking directly to the retired veteran.

  Richard grinned. “We’ll see who gets them first.”

  “What do we do if something goes wrong?” Misty asked.

  “Nothing will go wrong, but if it does, fall back to a safe position. Gather up as many of your mates as you can and get to Fort Detrick. Don’t try to be a hero. You all have people waiting for you back home,” Saul commanded. “Got it?”

  Low murmurs rang around the clearing, and Saul allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. “We can do this, people. I know we can. We’re fighters, the lot of us, and we’ve never faltered, not even in the face of vicious zombie hordes. A few prisoners are nothing compared to the undead buggers we face on our runs every day.”

  “Hear, hear,” Ginger shouted, his cinnamon colored beard gleaming in the sun.

  Misty whooped, and a cheer went up around the group, followed by a couple of fist pumps.

  As Saul strode to his Humvee, a sense of determination settled into his heart. He was here, at last, backed by good, reliable people, and ready to take on anything that stood in his way. Watch out, King. I’m coming for you.

  Chapter 15 - Richard

  Richard gripped the fifty caliber gun with both hands and braced himself against the rocking motions of the Humvee. Dan was an excellent driver, but the terrain wasn’t the smoothest, and he needed to focus his aim. His group was chosen to take out the tower furthest from the gate, and he was determined to make short work of it.

  Thankfully, he had a good team, and they were used to working together: Dan was the silent type, and a couple of years older than Richard. His short hair was pure white, and his tanned face spoke of years spent in the outdoors. A good driver, he was an even better shot and an avid hunter.

  In his mid-fifties, Richard was a retired staff sergeant with a short temper and a long list of dislikes. After losing his entire family during the apocalypse, he wanted nothing more than to rid the land of the undead scourge. Not that I mind taking out a few scumbag convicts along the way.

  Misty, on the other hand, was young enough to be his granddaughter. While they weren’t thrilled when she joined their ranks in the beginning, they’d since changed their minds. For a girl who barely topped five feet and weighed less than a wet rag, she packed a mighty dose
of whoop-ass. In a way, he and Dan had taken her under their wing.

  As they neared the tower, gunfire broke out further down the ranks. Each Humvee had picked its target and was closing in like a fox on a hen house. The sound sent a familiar thrill rushing through his veins, and his lips peeled back in a feral grin. As the distance between them and the tower narrowed, he readied himself to shoot.

  He spotted the two guards milling about on the platform above the fence before ducking down behind the flimsy wooden sheeting that formed their wall. It was a pointless act of self-preservation as the fifty-caliber would punch through it like it was tissue paper. “Surprise, assholes!”

  As his finger tightened on the trigger, a colossal shock wave hit his entire body. It reverberated through his spine and limbs, and his teeth clicked together on his tongue. The taste of blood bloomed in his mouth, and his ears rang from the loud boom that followed straight after.

  The Humvee careened off course, and he was flung sideways with jarring force. From the front, he heard Misty scream, a shrill cry of fear. Their vehicle continued forward in a zigzag pattern as Dan fought to regain control of the wheel.

  Just when it looked like they were straightening out, the Humvee’s nose disappeared into a deep ditch. Metal and glass screeched as the truck crashed into the deep hole, and Richard pitched forward as he lost his seat.

  He fell headfirst onto the hood and blacked out for a couple of seconds. When he came to, his ears rang from the force of the earlier blast. He groaned and reached out with both hands, attempting to find a handhold. As he straightened up, a sharp pain hit him in the temple. Hot blood gushed down the side of his face, and he swore as his fingers encountered a deep gash in his scalp. “Shit, that hurts.”

  On auto-pilot, he ripped off the bandanna he always wore around his throat and tied it over the gash. That staunched the bleeding and allowed him to focus on more important things, like the danger he found himself in.

  He looked around, surprised to see a sharpened stave of wood pointing right at him. He’d missed falling on it by mere inches, a stroke of good fortune. More of the spears stuck up from the deep pit they’d fallen into, splintered and broken by the bulk of the Humvee. The remains of a woven mat and dried leaves explained why none of them had seen the hole.

  “It was a trap, damn it,” he cursed, feeling for the rifle slung across his back. It was still there, much to his relief. “The assholes dug traps and camouflaged them.”

  A low sob drew his attention, and he looked through the windshield into the cab of the Humvee. Dan lay slumped across the wheel, while Misty was curled into a tiny ball. He knocked on the glass. “Misty, are you okay?”

  She looked up at him with tearful eyes. “My arm. I think it’s broken.”

  “What about Dan?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. He’s not moving,” she replied.

  “Hold on. I’m coming to get you,” Richard said.

  He maneuvered around the front until he reached her door. An experimental tug on the handle delivered no results, and he shouted, “Misty, I need you to open the window. The door’s stuck.”

  With one arm hanging limply by her side, she obeyed. Once the window was open, Richard pulled her out and sat her down on the hood of the vehicle. “Wait there. I need to look at Dan.”

  She nodded, dashing away her tears. “Do what you have to. I can wait.”

  He crawled back into the cab and reached out to Dan. “Dan, wake up, buddy. Are you okay?”

  Dan groaned but didn’t move. With great care, Richard tipped him upright, holding his head with one hand. “Dan, where does it hurt? Your neck? Your head?”

  Dan moaned. “My leg. I think it got twisted up.”

  Richard nodded, slightly relieved. At least, he’s neck isn’t broken. I hope.

  He reached out and gripped Dan beneath the armpits. “Come on, buddy. We need to get you out of here.”

  “I…I’ll try,” Dan said, fumbling for handholds. “Where’s Misty?”

  “She’s okay. She’s waiting for us outside,” Richard replied.

  With Dan’s help, Richard managed to drag him out of the cab and onto the hood as well. Once there, he examined Dan’s leg. The knee was swollen to twice its normal size. Painful but not life-threatening. The man had a gash above his nose as well, and the glassy look in his eyes spoke of shock. “Stay with me, Dan. Focus.”

  “What the hell happened?” Dan mumbled, reaching up to staunch the bleeding on his face.

  “I think we hit a landmine,” Misty said, still holding her left arm.

  Richard turned to her. “Let’s have a look at that, shall we?”

  She winced as he examined her arm but didn’t utter a word until he was finished. “Well? Is it broken?”

  “No, but you dislocated your shoulder. “I need to pop it back in if we hope to get out of here in one piece.”

  She stared at him for a second before nodding. “Do it then.”

  “This is gonna hurt,” he warned, gripping her elbow and shoulder with both hands.

  “Just get it over with. I’m not a sissy,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

  “On the count of three. One, two…” With a swift move, he popped the joint back into place and braced himself for Misty’s piercing scream.

  With her right hand, she punched him in the chest. “You said on the count of three, you bastard.”

  Richard grinned at her with blood-stained lips. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  She blinked with surprise before testing the arm. “It did. I can use it!”

  “Great, now let’s get out of here,” Richard said. “I’ll go first, Dan second, you last.”

  “Got it,” Misty said.

  “I’ll try,” Dan replied with a grimace as he tested out his injured knee.

  “Don’t worry,” Richard said. “We’ll get you out of this mess.”

  “Thanks,” Dan said, using his good leg and both hands to pull himself up the back of the Humvee in Richard’s wake. Richard leaned back to help the man up while Misty pushed from below. When they reached the top of the pit, Richard paused. “Hold up, guys. Let me have a look first.”

  With his rifle gripped in both hands, Richard peeked over the rim. When he was confident the immediate vicinity was clear, he climbed further up to get a better look. Gunfire sounded from further down the fence line, and he spotted the other Humvees within seconds.

  The closest one was firing at its allotted tower, and he recognized Ginger as the gunner. The fifty cut through the guard post’s flimsy defenses like a hot knife through butter, and the tower exploded into a shower of wooden planks. Both the guards screamed as they tumbled to the ground, and Richard let out a triumphant cry. “Yes!”

  His joy was short-lived when Ginger’s truck hit another landmine, and he ducked as the explosion rumbled through the ground. Ginger disappeared as their vehicle zigzagged across the field before slowing to a stop. Smoke billowed from the destroyed front wheel, and the driver’s door was a mangled mess of jagged metal.

  “What’s happening?” Dan shouted from below.

  “Ginger’s team is down,” Richard replied. “Another landmine. The entire place is booby-trapped.”

  He craned his head to look for the last two Humvee’s, and his gaze picked out Saul’s vehicle. It lay on its side, not far from the gate, with the wheels spinning in the air. A deep crater marked the ground behind it, evidence of yet another mine.

  A figure emerged from the door on top of the downed Humvee, followed by two more. They fell over the side and onto the ground with their vehicle providing cover. They did so in the nick of time as hellfire rained down upon them from the nearby gate.

  Richard swore again. “Shit, they’ve got machine guns up in those towers.”

  Before he could blink, bullets tore up the turf next to his face, and he ducked back into the pit. The tower they were supposed to take out was now the aggressor and bent on shooting them to ribbons. As he huddled inside the hole, t
he radio in his pocket crackled to life, and he pulled it out.

  “This is Dylan. We hit a landmine, and we’re pinned down by heavy gunfire. Can anyone assist us? Over.”

  “This is Richard. We also hit a mine, and we’re trapped inside a pit. King booby-trapped the entire field. Over,” Richard replied.

  “No shit,” Dylan replied. “Can you get to safety? Over.”

  “Doubtful. They’re shooting at us too. Over,” Richard said.

  “This is Ginger,” a voice came over the radio. “My entire team is down. I repeat, they’re dead. It’s just me, and I’m stuck inside the truck.”

  Richard closed his eyes and muttered, “Damn it. This is all going to hell. They were prepared for us.”

  “They knew we were coming?” Misty asked with wide eyes.

  “Either that or they suspected,” Dan said, still pinching the gash on his nose between a thumb and forefinger.

  A different voice sounded over the radio. “This is Jackson. We’re still operational, and we took out another tower. That leaves two. What should we do? Over.”

  Richard dared a quick look above ground and spotted the last Humvee racing along the fence line toward Saul’s team. The fact that they hadn’t hit a landmine yet was a miracle. Even so, they were taking constant fire from the remaining nearby tower.

  The radio crackled again, and Saul’s voice came on. “Forget the last tower. The attack failed. We need to retreat. Can you get to us, Jackson? Over.”

  “Almost there. Over,” Jackson confirmed.

  “When you get here, use our vehicle as cover,” Saul said. “We’re taking heavy fire from the gate. Over.”

  “Roger that. Over,” Jackson said, his vehicle veering away from the fence toward Saul’s group.

  Richard listened to the exchange, his thoughts going a mile a minute. He dared a quick look above the ground and saw Jackson’s Humvee slide to a stop next to Saul’s. Saul, Dylan, and Rita scrambled into the waiting vehicle and slammed the door shut as Jackson pulled away.

  Immediately, Saul sounded over the radio. “Ginger, can you get out of your vehicle? We’re coming to fetch you. Over.”