“Corporal Parker,” Saul greeted. “Could you use another team?”
“You’re welcome. Find yourself a spot and have at it,” Corporal Parker said.
“You know about the bridges?” Saul asked.
“Fort Detrick kept me updated,” Corporal Parker said. “The observation points radioed in just now. The horde from Point of Rocks is coming, but the other one was in its tracks. A few infected got across, but it’s nothing a mop-up crew can’t fix.”
“Glad to hear,” Saul said.
After parking their truck behind the line, Saul got out. “Come on, boys. Ready for a fight?”
Jason and Raymond cheered, and they took up a position near the center. As Saul hunkered down with his automatic rifle between his knees, he allowed himself a satisfied smile. They might have failed with the bridge, but they would make up for it here.
Roughly fifteen minutes later, Jackson’s team came roaring past. Jackson stopped for a brief moment to talk. “I take it you couldn’t blow the bridge?”
“Nope. The horde was already halfway across,” Saul replied.
“Yeah, I figured that much. They’ve reached the outer city limits. These things are fast. We barely got in ahead of them.”
“That they are,” Saul agreed, his eyes searching for Dylan. “Where’s Dylan?”
“Passed out in the back. She got hurt, and I’m delivering her to the infirmary.”
Saul frowned. “Is it serious?”
“No, she’s okay, but I need to get her to a doctor,” Jackson said.
“Go on, then. Get her to safety,” Saul said, watching as they raced away.
Minutes later, a terrific explosion sounded as the first kill zone was triggered. More fires and booms followed as the horde moved toward the center. Thick, acrid smoke curled above the buildings, and orange flames licked at the walls of a nearby office block. Within minutes, the air took on a sooty haze as the ashes spread throughout the streets.
“Get ready, boys,” Saul whispered. “They’ll be here soon.”
The two youngsters exchanged nervous looks. The atmosphere was enough to dampen even their spirits, and a breathless hush descended over them all.
The infected emerged from the gloom like ghosts, their arrival both silent and terrifying. For several seconds, nothing happened. Grey figures covered in rags filled the area, their staggering gait bringing them closer and closer to the waiting men and women.
Corporal Parker broke the stand-off. “Fire!”
The soldiers let loose, and a hail of gunfire ripped through the ranks of the undead. Their torsos jerked from the impact of the bullets before falling to the ground. They looked like puppets at the end of a madman’s strings.
A howl rose from within their ranks as they realized fresh meat was close at hand. Galvanized, they sprinted forward, faces contorted into hideous caricatures of the people they once were. They were fast, and they were hungry.
But, the soldiers never faltered. They were staggered throughout the fighting zone in groups of three that formed two lines. The front row laid down a wall of withering fire until they ran out of ammunition. At that point, the second row took over while the first reloaded. On and on until the undead got too close for guns to be effective.
“First line: Retreat,” Corporal Parker yelled during a lull.
The first line fell back to a new barrier set behind the second line, giving ground.
Saul and his team were among this line. With the second row laying down cover, they retreated to a new alcove formed by sandbags stacked on top of each other. A box of ammunition waited, and he quickly reloaded. The moment the other row ran out, he opened fire.
Rat-tat-tat.
Rat-tat-tat.
Rat-tat-tat.
The undead fell by the dozens, scores, and hundreds until their bodies formed mounds of corpses. And still, they came. When the soldiers could retreat no further, the fight became brutal. The infected screeched as they engaged with living people, and screams soon filled Saul’s ears.
“Fall back, fall back,” Corporal Parker shouted, waving to a row of vehicles that waited to ferry the soldiers to safety.
Saul jumped up, preparing to run. “Get to the truck, Jason. Raymond.”
The two youngsters obeyed, racing toward the waiting vehicle with sure-footed speed. He covered them with his pistol until it clicked on empty. That was his queue.
As Saul turned to follow, a zombie jumped over the wall of sandbags and plowed him to the ground. Teeth clipped at the air above his throat, and the rancid smell of rotting flesh washed across his face.
With a wild yell of defiance, Saul smashed his rifle’s stock into the infected’s face. Teeth and bone crunched, but the thing kept fighting. Clawing. Biting. Bucking his hips, Saul tossed the zombie onto the ground. In an instant, he was on the monster’s chest, pinning it to the ground with one knee. Raising his rifle above his head, he battered the zombie’s skull into pink mush.
When the infected ceased to move, Saul launched himself toward the truck. Ghostly finger plucked at his clothes as the undead sought to claim him for their own. He barely made it, ducking and diving beneath their reaching arms.
“Not today. Not ever,” he wheezed through spent lungs.
As he jumped into the truck, undead bodies slammed into the side. Shrieks and screams filled his ears until he thought his eardrums would burst. The vehicle rocked beneath the onslaught until Saul yelled, “Go, Jason. What are you waiting for? A medal?”
Jason jammed his foot on the gas, and they joined the convoy of vehicle roaring to safety. Within minutes, they left the horde behind as they passed through a maze of new barriers and kill zones.
There were three such layers of protection laid throughout the city, each taking them nearer to the fort. They’d have to go through the same maneuver twice more before falling back to the inner defenses.
Twice. Saul wondered if he had the energy to survive
