Bretz popped the truck into gear and started moving, his heart heavy. He took a deep, steadying breath, and forced his mind to focus on the mission.
CHAPTER NINE
Bretz led the convoy down the highway towards the I-405 crossing, a major interchange where the highway crossed underneath the interstate. It was a couple miles ahead, and he took it slow, only driving about twenty miles per hour.
He struggled to focus on the task, his thoughts about his decision getting Mason killed pulsing in his brain. There was some light banter over the CB between the men, but it was just a low hum in the background, his worries tuning it out.
There were a few zombies in the road, which he drifted over a bit to clip, not wanting to damage the engine, but wanting to cause a little bit of pain just for his own personal satisfaction. He continued to zone out, but finally snapped into focus as his name repeated on the radio.
“Bretz. Bretz!” Baker demanded. “You gonna answer me or am I gonna have to ram you”
The Corporal blinked a few times and then picked up the receiver, raising it to his lips. “What is it?” he asked hoarsely.
“Fucking finally,” Baker snapped. “Man, that’s the fifth zombie you’ve made a point to hit. You need to cut that shit out. We’ve got enough going on without you losing it.”
“I’m fine,” Bretz replied, voice a low monotone. “Just making sure my steering still works.”
Baker scoffed. “Bullshit,” he replied. “I know you’re upset, god knows we all are, but you need to keep it together man, we still got a lot to get done today.”
Bretz paused, letting the words wash over him and sink in. “Thanks, man,” he finally said. He knew his friend was right.
“Anytime,” Baker replied.
Bretz began to slow down as they approached the interchange. He came to a full stop half a mile from the bridge, Baker pulling up beside him and the other three trucks stopping behind them.
“Holy shit,” Baker breathed through the radio, “how are we getting through that?”
There were easily a thousand zombies on the road in front of them, with even more on top of the bridge on the interstate. They were densely packed, shoulder-to-shoulder, with an untold number behind them on the other side.
“Not trying to be a Debbie Downer or anything,” Kent drawled, “but now way in hell we’re pushing through that.”
“Is there another way around?” Baker asked.
Kent paused, and then came in, “According to the map, the only other route is on the interstate, and it isn’t looking much better.”
“Corporal, what are we doing?” Short asked.
Bretz stared at the horde, a deep sigh deflating his chest. This day kept getting worse and worse. “I think it’s time to call in air support,” he finally said.
“Fuck yeah!” Kent bellowed. “Light them motherfuckers up!”
“All right boys,” Baker said, “let’s back it up a bit. Don’t want to catch some blowback.”
As the trucks began to move in reverse, Bretz pulled out his satellite phone, dialing up Captain Kersey. It rang for several minutes, and then David answered.
“Captain Kersey’s office,” he greeted.
Bretz took a deep breath. “David, it’s Corporal Bretz,” he replied. “We need our air support.”
“What’s your location?” David asked.
The Corporal swallowed hard. “Four-o-five interchange.”
There was a moment of silence, and then the communications expert replied, “That’s gonna be a no-go, sir. Orders are to protect major infrastructure.”
“There’s a thousand zombies underneath the bridge, and even more on top,” Bretz insisted firmly. “Either we get air support to come in and clear it out, or this mission is over right here and now.”
“Hold, please,” David replied, and there was a click as the line went quiet.
After a few moments, Kersey came in, “Sounds like you’re in a bit of a pickle there, Corporal.”
Bretz sighed. “That’s an understatement, Cap,” he replied. “We need that air support if this mission is going to be successful.”
“David filled me in,” Kersey explained. “But tell me, how tall is that bridge?”
Bretz cocked his head, staring at the bridge. “Twenty feet, give or take.”
“How’s the road looking in front of it?” the Captain asked.
The Corporal shrugged. “Surprisingly clear,” he admitted. “Only a handful of cars and most of those are on the other side of the road.”
“I think we can work with that,” Kersey replied, and then his voice muffled. “David, dispatch two choppers to Bretz’s location.” He moved his hand, and clearly said into the phone, “All right, you got incoming that will be there within a half an hour,” he said. “Just make sure you’re far enough back.”
Bretz nodded, rubbing his forehead. “Way ahead of you, Cap.”
Kersey paused, and then asked, “Everything going okay out there?”
“Mostly,” the Corporal replied, grimacing. “Had some issues at the last stop and we’re down to five trucks.” His voice stayed monotone, not betraying any emotion.
“Okay,” the Captain replied easily, “if there’s a safe spot to pick up a sixth, you have clearance to do so.”
Bretz clenched a fist, swallowing hard, trying to squash his emotions to stay focused. “Won’t do any good,” he replied thickly. “Mason’s not with us anymore.”
There was a long silence, as Kersey processed the information that his friend was dead. “Understood, Corporal,” he finally said. “Do what you can with what you have. Call when it’s complete.”
“Yes sir,” Bretz replied. “And Kersey…”
“Yes?”
The Corporal took a deep breath. “Thanks.” He was glad the Captain didn’t push the issue. He knew the information hurt Kersey as well, but he didn’t want to talk about it, nor think about it, at the moment. They’d have time to grieve later.
The Captain didn’t respond, and didn’t have to. Bretz set down the phone, popping the truck into reverse and moving back to join the others.
CHAPTER TEN
The group sat a mile away from the interchange, yammering over the CB radio about nonsense. Bretz leaned back in the driver’s seat, chomping on a granola bar and reading one of the trashy romance novels to attempt to get his
