Zombies - High and Lonesome

A third entry into what I'm building into an ebook. I hope you enjoy, and leave comments. I am, it seems, susceptible to critique. And I'd love to hear what you think in whatever case.

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Gunfire erupted in a muffled clatter that came from up ahead. The convoy sprung into action, vehicles spreading into battle formation; tires squealed as trucks maneuvered into position and slid to a halt, spilling their payload of soldiers onto the ground in a chorus of booted feet on asphalt. More gunfire joined the ruckus as the men took up tactical positions wherever they could find cover.

"We have to help them!" I exclaimed urgently, fueled more by a need to do something--anything--other than sit still while the undead swarmed us from God knows where. Hastily, I fumbled for my seatbelt, fingers slipping on the catch in their hurry. A hand on my arm stopped me.

"Wait." Lynette's face mirrored her tone of perfectly calm determination. "Let's see how this plays out."

I met her gaze for a moment longer before panning to watch the still mostly motionless backs of the mercenaries ahead. They seemed to be handling things. My gut still clenched with anxiety though. "We could help," I offered.

She shook her head. "We'll just get ourselves killed. We wait."

I bristled at taking orders from her, but shoved the emotions aside. I had dealt with power complexes before and fighting it was not the wisest way to go. She had a point, anyway. I wasn't bad with a gun, but I was no trained merc. I settled back a little, easing both her tension and mine.

The radio screamed to life. "Jim! Get your ass out here! Bring the woman!"

I picked up the radio and paused to lick my lips before thumbing the comm. "What's that, Sarge?"

"That's General to you, soldier! Get in line!"

"Sorry, sir, you're breaking up. Can't hear ya." I redocked the handset.

"Goddammit, private, you are under my command, you hear me?" The radio feed broke up a little, then returned in a panicked scream that was much more animal than it was, well, words. It drew itself out into a thinned warble and gurgled from life.

I glanced up at the wall of trucks again. Most of the men had disappeared around the other side, followed closely by the rest. A grenade went off somewhere, throwing a sluice of shrapnel straight through the canvas of a transport. Wind tore at the wounded truck, and for some reason it felt eerie. The gunfire died down to an infrequent sputter. Somebody screamed.

My first thought was to glance at Lynette again to see what she thought about the situation, but she was already checking her gun as best as she knew how and working the latch to the door. I followed suit, grabbing my shotgun, a belt of ammunition and the closest handgun, which turned out to be something made of polymer. I fumbled for a few mags before tumbling from the vehicle in a sprawling heap. I staggered to my feet and collected my things sheepishly.

"Forgot it was so high," I muttered at Lynette's haughty look. She turned wordlessly and made for the barricade in an awkward crouch. I followed more smoothly. I, unlike her, was used to holding a gun. I'd even gone hunting a couple of times. Though, I made it a habit to hunt things that hadn't died already. Fewer complications that way.

Unwilling to go first, we both stepped out from behind cover at the same time. One of my knees gave out, then, and I settled into a sort of half crouch as the world swayed weirdly and a buzzing sound filled my ears. My stomach was doing flips somewhere, twisting and wrenching to get that pizza out. I swallowed heavily to keep it down and lowered my head to block out the sight but got a nice closeup of a pool of blood with little pieces in it.

"Oh shit," I groaned and vomited. I wiped my mouth and forced myself to stand up.

"You okay?" She actually sounded concerned.

"Yeah," I muttered. "Fine."

Bodies sprawled everywhere, most of them dead for the second time. Decayed, mutilated zombie bodies lay in every conceivable position, plus a couple extra, joined here and there by a mercenary, usually with a zombie or two attached to a limb or neck. The carnage stretched before us until the crest of the hill, and beneath it all spread a huge crimson stain. Zombie and human blood mixed into one gigantic stain. I thought hard about how the food still in my stomach wanted nothing better than to stay there.

Somebody moaned. I whirled.

Lynette pinpointed it first. "That came from inside that truck." I followed her.

I recognized the vehicle from its torn canvas, but it lost all form of familiarity when a pair of bloodied hands dove at me, followed by a body that was definitely missing a rib or two, as made evident by a lack of substance in the spleen area. I backpedaled as the undead met the apex of its flight just short of me and careened teethfirst into the asphalt. Before I knew it, I had dropped my handgun to the back of its skull and pulled the trigger. Twice. Crimson pounded into the ground, courtesy of a pair of .45 ACPs.

"Oh dear God," Lynette gasped. "That...you--oh shit! You killed that thing."

I straightened and glanced at her. "It was already dead."

She swallowed. "Right. Yeah, already dead..." She brought her knuckles to her lips, shaking.

Now it was my turn. "You alright?" She didn't respond. Uh, damn? I wasn't good with women. I moved to put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, we need to get back to the truck.

She nodded without a word and followed me. I even held the door for her and helped her climb in. The Humvee really was way too high off the ground.

I pulled the Humvee around the barricade and drove, cringing, over the wreckage that marked the first fight of what I forebodingly felt would be many. My entire world had just fallen apart and the only thing I was still sure of was that we absolutely had to get out of the city as soon as was possible. Maybe it could still be safe elsewhere.