straight bar, knocking the fat man to the ground. The zombie seemed stunned but he was still alive as he slowly tried to right himself. When he got to his knees, Duncan was already there, and pounded Fatso on the back of his head, cracking his skull and putting him down for good. I moved past them both and kicked a smaller zombie in the chest, knocking him to the grass. I stepped onto his chest and held him down as I crushed his skull with the chisel end. The last two were dispatched the same way, and we jogged back to the group who had watched us take out the zombies.
“Why did you guys run to them?” one of the men wanted to know.
I answered him. “It just occurred to me. Think of it this way. One on one, we can take any zombie out there. They’re stupid, they’re slow, and don’t really think outside the box. But when they come at you in twos, threes, or fours, then you have trouble. If your weapon sticks or you drop it, you can get to your backup. If you have two on you, you’re screwed. If you keep them from their greatest strength, which is attacking in force, then they can be dealt with pretty easily. Just keep your head and smash in theirs.” Anticipating the next question, I said “And we didn’t shoot them because shots attract them like politicians to money. They can hear better than we can and their sense of smell is better, too. We learned that in the gas station.” I told them about the woman smelling the door, looking for us.
Several nods occurred around the group as they took this in. Tommy, Duncan and I cleaned off our weapons and moved up to the front of the crowd. We headed towards the closest houses to the school, figuring to start there and just work our way down the street. I didn’t expect to find much, but we didn’t have much choice. If we went through everything people brought with them, we had two days at best.
We approached the first house slowly, looking in the windows and trying to see if it was occupied. I assigned four men to watch the street, and three more to stations outside the door. I figured to lure any zombies outside where we could control the killing and have room to move. I went up to the door and tried the knob. I expected it to be locked and it was. I knocked on the door and waited, listening intently. I didn’t hear any movement, so I worked my crowbar on the door, easing it open as quietly as I could.
I pushed the door open and stepped back. Nothing came out at me so I poked my head in. It was neatly furnished, and I could see no signs of struggle or violence. I immediately thought that this was a household that went straight to one of the state centers which was subsequently overrun. Poor choice there.
I moved into the home, Tommy and Duncan coming in behind me and spreading out. Duncan moved to the kitchen and immediately began checking the pantry and cabinets. There seemed to be a decent store of dry goods, so he went out and got a sack from one of the other men. He filled it and sent the man back to the school, to drop it off and come back to get some more.
I went through the house, looking for anything of use, and came out with linens and towels and a good supply of toilet paper. All this went to the wheelbarrow and back to the school. I found the basement stairs and went down slowly, whistling softly to stir any zombie that might be down there. I got no response, so I kept going. The basement held the usual bunch of junk, although I did find a small area that held a little promise. There was a box of pictures and mementos, and it seemed the owner of the house may have been a vet of some sort. Digging deeper, I found a cherry wood case that held a pristine Colt 1911. A little searching found an old box of shells, and I figured the old gun had not been fired much, if at all. I tucked the box and ammo into my pack, to give to another member of the community, since I was comfortable with my SIG.
Finding nothing else, I went back upstairs. Tommy and Duncan were waiting for me, and I joined them on the lawn.
“Anything good?” Tommy asked.
“I found an old. 45 and some ammo.” I said, flipping a thumb towards my pack. “I know you guys have your Glocks. I’ll give it to someone familiar with guns.”
Duncan nodded. “Ready for the next one?”
I waved him on and we went to the next house. This one was definitely occupied, although not by anyone living. The zombies had made a mess, stumbling around and knocking things over, drooling over things, and bumping into the furniture. They came out when we opened the door, and were easily dispatched as they tumbled to the ground.
I went in, and found a large cache of canned food and bottled water, and a good supply of batteries. I didn’t find any guns, but we did find the keys to a large pickup truck in the garage. Expecting the worst, I turned over the engine and was amazed when it coughed and came to life. I opened the garage door and surprised the hell out of everyone assembled out there. I pulled it out to the street and starting filling the back with the supplies. It was a huge truck, with a crew cab and full size bed. I grinned at Duncan and joked with him. “You need to come up with something pretty cool to top that.”
Duncan mumbled something about the luck of fools and we went to the next house, one of the other men driving the truck.
At the next house we got really lucky. Apparently the owner was a sort of survival nut, and there was a large supply of canned food, bottled water, water purification tablets, first aid kits, and emergency blankets. I idly wondered where the owner was, since he had enough to survive a long time. I got my answer when I went into the back bedroom. The owner was lying on his bed, pistol in his hand, and a large portion of his brains splattered on the wall. I figured he may have gotten infected and chosen not to be a zombie. Either that or the reality of the true end of the world was too much for him to handle.
I relieved him of his gun and stored it in my pack along with the other gun. Heading to the lower level, I bumped into Tommy, who was carrying a large bundle of military surplus rifles. Another man was carrying metal cans of ammo. Two other men had two handgun cases each, and another was carrying a box full of assorted ammunition.
“Guy had a regular gun room in the basement.” Tommy said, hoisting his load for a better grip. “We found a lot of useful stuff and a shitload of ammo.”
I nodded my head. “Good deal. The owner won’t want it anymore, and I’m sure he’d want us to have it.”
Tommy arched an eyebrow at me. “You find him?”
I nodded. “He’s upstairs in bed. His brains are on the wall. Must have been infected and ended it before he turned.”
It was Tommy’s turn to nod. “I’d probably do the same if I got nailed. Or hope someone would do it for me.”
“Yeah.” was all I said.
Tommy and crew hauled their load out to the truck and went back to get more. Duncan cleared out the kitchen and by the time we were done the truck was fairly loaded. I told the driver to head back and unload, but I had Duncan ride along and told him to store the guns until we could sort out what we had and make sure it was divided evenly. No one was to get anything until we got back. Duncan understood and hopped into the passenger side.
I watched the truck head back and looked toward the long line of houses. We had a lot of work to do, but I think we were going to be all right. At least for the time being.
A low moan on the wind was a poignant reminder that it was going to be a long fight. But we had gained a foothold, and were going to take it from there.
15
Six weeks later
I awoke to the sound of activity. It was roughly an hour before sunrise, looking at the sky outside my window. I could only see through the top six inches, the rest being reinforced by wood slats. But it was enough to let in a little light, and that was all I needed. I crawled out of bed and checked on Jake. He was still sleeping, tucked into a little ball with his butt in the air. I wondered for the hundredth time if that was comfortable, promising myself to try it sometime. But I covered him anyway, and got dressed, belting on my sidearm and field knife. Cleanup days were a bitch.
Essentially, the idea of a cleanup day was to remove all zombies killed the day or night before, burn the
