Missy shook her head, tears shimmering on her lips. “He didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said, shaking his head as she was led toward the infirmary. Already, their losses were almost more than he could bear.
This was not the time to give in to despair, though. He needed to set an example to the fighting men and women under his command. They were his responsibility, and he could not fail them. Not today.
The horde was on its way, and the fight had come to their home. Whatever happened, he needed to keep them out of the inner sanctum.
With a look of supreme confidence on his face, he faced the gate. “Come on, you undead fuckers. Today, we’re going to kill every last one of you.”
Chapter 21 - Alex
Alex pressed the rifle to his shoulder, his torso leaning against the concrete wall. He squeezed the trigger, firing short bursts of rounds into the oncoming horde. The two soldiers with him followed suit, and they laid down a withering wall of hot lead.
The advancing wall of bodies jerked as the shots punctured their flesh and punched through their skulls. When his magazine ran out, he reloaded until his fingers grew raw, and his barrel was hot to the touch.
Hundreds of zombies fell before them, the corpses piling up until they resembled drifts of snow. It didn’t matter. The mob kept advancing with relentless force, pushing aside anything in their path like so much chaff. They reached the chain-link fence on the outer perimeter and piled against it like dead leaves. Those at the back climbed over those in the front until the fence groaned beneath their combined weight. With a screech, it gave.
The horde was inside the base. The only thing that stood between them and the innocent civilians inside was the final layer of defense. That and the trench dug by Davis’ team. It ran all around the inner sanctum, designed to give the soldiers a fighting chance to retreat and regroup.
Alex kept shooting, desperate to whittle down the numbers of the undead. When the wall of death was almost upon them, an alarm sounded, and he knew it was time to retreat. He jumped up and waved his arm. “Move back. Move, move, move!”
Without waiting, he sprinted across the open ground, dodging sharpened stakes until he reached the inner fence line Nick had set up with such meticulous care. This was it—their last stand.
Above his head loomed the machine gun turrets, an ace up the sleeve reserved for this most desperate of times. He and the other soldiers streamed through one of the two gates that surrounded the civilian area. He briefly glimpsed Nick, the man’s face smeared with blood and muck. Saul was nowhere to be seen.
Alex quickly took up his new position on top of a gutted mini-van. In the face of the horror that faced them, it was a flimsy barrier, but it had to do. Across the open ground, the horde advanced until the front ranks fell into the trench. More followed until the inevitable happened, and the channel was filled to the brim. When that happened, the alarm sounded once more.
The match was lit, and thousands of gallons of fuel lit up the sky in a whoosh of flames. The zombies inside the trench burned, as did anything nearby. This granted the fort a brief reprieve. Those unable to continue the fight were replaced by fresh bodies, and the rest got the chance to rest and refuel.
Alex gulped down a bottle of water, followed by a protein bar. He flexed his aching muscles and closed his eyes for a couple of brief, beautiful seconds.
Then another alarm sounded, followed by a breathless hush. The flames had died to a smoldering carpet of coals, and horde pushed through the devastation of the trench. Their marching feet brought them closer and closer until they were within range.
That was the moment the machine gun turrets let loose. The fifty-calibers cut through the air, and the ranks of the undead disintegrated. They fell by the hundreds, and finally, by the thousands.
Alex whooped at the sight. He couldn’t help it. It was the advantage they’d needed—the one bright moment in a long dark day.
The barrage carried on for several minutes before the first gun stuttered to a stop. One by one, the others followed until an awful quiet descended.
Alex blinked into the haze of dust and smoke, sure that every last zombie had to be dead. Then the first shambling figure staggered into view. Its body was almost cut to ribbons, yet still, it came. His heart dropped. No.
Behind it, more advanced. These were fresher and faster. They howled with hunger and rage, their sole objective the humans that lurked just out of reach.
“Here they come!” someone cried out, and Alex readied himself for the fight of his life.
The minutes stretched into hours as he kept his position, bolstered by the other soldiers who fought with him. They shot into the masses until they ran out of bullets, reloaded, and fired again.
Grenades exploded every couple of seconds, each blast sending up a spray of dirt, blood, and body parts. Whole ranks of zombies disappeared into deep pits while others were funneled into minefields.
Whenever a breach occurred, Corporal Parker sent in fresh soldiers to push back the wave. An excavator would soon follow, stopping up the gap in the fence. Hope began to grow within his chest. Maybe, they could make it after all. Perhaps this was not the end.
With fresh determination, he raised his rifle in the air and shouted. “Come on, guys. We can do this. Let’s give them hell!”
Those around him took up the cheer until it rang from countless throats and traveled throughout the ranks in a single united roar.
“Give them hell!”
“Give them hell!”
Chapter 22 - Dylan
Dylan paced from side to side
