He quickly dropped to his knee, hiding behind the register for cover. He glanced out the window, seeing Kent sitting in the driver’s seat of the truck, just hanging out.
Hess pulled out his flashlight and aimed it directly at Kent’s face, clicking it on and off two times rapidly. His charge outside blinked, confused, looking around. Hess sighed and did it again, finally gaining the soldier’s attention.
Kent looked straight through the window and saw Hess crouched there. When their eyes locked, Hess motioned for him to move the truck out of the way. He received a thumbs up, and Kent popped the truck into gear and moved back, the congregating zombies slowly ambling after him.
Unfortunately for Hess, the flicking light attracted several of the zombies at the front area of the store, and they wandered towards him, trying to find the source. He remained under cover, his knife ready in case one of them got too close. He watched as a couple of them wandered by the top of his checkout aisle, moaning, seeming to know that something was close.
He looked back towards the front, seeing only a few zombies inside the store and ten or so just outside of it, although a bit more spread out than before. As he went back into hiding, he inadvertently elbowed a travel mug that was underneath the register, sending it clattering to the ground.
“Dammit,” he muttered as moaning erupted all around him. He sheathed his knife and readied his assault rifle. “Here goes nothing.” He popped up from cover, aiming at the nearest creature and firing, dropping it fast as he turned and tore for the front of the store.
Zombies in front of him turned to screech at him, arms outstretched. He stopped and fired two quick headshots, and then leapt over the fallen, skidding into the front entryway and slamming the double doors behind him.
Ten zombies pressed up against the row of glass doors at the front, shoulder to shoulder and smacking on the glass. Hess raised his rifle, aiming at the first ghoul’s head and swapping to rapid fire mode. He took a deep breath, and then pulled the trigger, running down the line, taking out a line of them in a matter of seconds.
As the corpses hit the pavement, he pushed his way out of the store and into the parking lot. As soon as he was out, somebody blared their horn, and he turned to see Kent’s truck about forty yard away, the bulk of the zombies on the passenger side.
Hess broke into a sprint, running as hard as he could for the truck. As he approached, Kent flung open the door and started firing from the driver’s seat, dropping the few zombies that were directly in his running companion’s path.
“Come on man, move it!” he yelled.
Hess reached the truck and clambered up, crawling over the driver’s seat and collapsing on the other side of the cab, chest heaving. Kent slammed the door and turned to him, wide-eyed.
“Goddamn dude, you okay?” he asked.
Hess just nodded, still breathing heavily.
“Well, let’s get Mason and get the fuck out of here,” Kent said.
Hess closed his eyes, pressing his palms into them momentarily before clenching his jaw, staring helplessly at his friend.
“Is he…” Kent trailed off, reading the pain on his face.
Hess simply nodded, unable to form words at the moment.
His friend swallowed hard. “Do you want to tell Bretz?”
Hess shook his head, and finally admitted, “I could use a minute.”
Kent reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then picked up the CB radio. “Corporal.”
“What is it?” Bretz came back immediately. “Looked like you had some issues over there.”
Kent took a deep breath. “It’s Hess sir, he had to come out the front of the store,” he replied reluctantly. “Mason… Mason wasn’t with him.”
There were a few moments of stunned silence.
“What the fuck do you mean Mason isn’t with him?!” Baker suddenly burst over the line. “What the fuck did he do to him?”
Kent swallowed as Hess winced from the passenger’s seat. “He didn’t do anything to him.”
“Bullshit!” Baker yelled. “This should have been easy, in and out. What the fuck?!”
“Put Hess on,” Bretz said, solemn and low.
Kent chewed his lip for a moment. “Sir, I…”
“Put. Hess. On,” Bretz said firmly.
The Private in question held out his hand for the receiver, not meeting Kent’s gaze as he placed it in his palm.
“Hess here,” he said hoarsely.
“Is he at rest?” Bretz asked.
Hess rubbed one of his eyes, blinking rapidly after. “Yes, sir.”
“Okay,” the Corporal replied calmly. “Is his truck still running?”
Hess nodded shakily. “Yes, sir.”
“Kent, take him around to pick it up,” Bretz said. “We’ve got to get moving.”
Baker immediately cut into the line. “Bretz, we have to-”
“We have to keep moving,” the Corporal said firmly. “We have to keep moving.”
The devastated soldier let out another frustrated yell before the line went silent. Bretz sat in his cab, imagining Baker throwing the radio across his cab in anger. He knew how he felt. His chest ached with the loss of a good soldier, of a friend.
As he watched Kent drive around to the back, he rubbed his forehead. He’d decided to make this stop because they needed a sixth truck. Now Mason was dead, and they were down a driver, and they still didn’t have a sixth truck. They’d have to complete the mission without the items they needed, and without one of their own.
“Hess has been dropped off, and he’s ready to go,” Kent’s voice came through the radio.
The Corporal shook off his cloud of what-ifs and guilt, knowing he needed to focus on the mission, and get the rest of them safely to the end of the line. “Good,” he said into the receiver. “Follow me out and stay close, we’re going to be on surface streets for a while until the interstate clears out.”
“Yes, sir,” Kent replied, and
