The noise in our confined space was deafening as thirty-four of us lay a withering wave of destruction toward the cover of the woods to give Ed time for another shot. Above the din we created, bullets smacked the sheet metal and steel plating like hail on a tin roof. I shifted my scope and found Nate hunkered tight to the ground as close as he could get to the chain-link fence surrounding our compound. I hoped he'd stay there with his head down and one arm wrapped around his head for protection. I shifted to the Humvee and fired at a man who rose through a roof panel to man the machinegun. He got off a short burst before I hit him in the chest twice. A split second later, a hole appeared in the Humvee's windshield as a rocket crashed through. Almost simultaneously, the old, lightly armored vehicle flew apart with body panels screaming fifty feet into the air amid flame, smoke and burnt, spit-sized offerings of the scum who'd shot at us.
Everyone slacked off the rapid fire sequence a full half minute after the sound of the second explosion. They began carefully placing shots at specific targets. For ten minutes we traded shots. The attacker's bullets continued to pound the half-inch steel plating recently installed, but the intensity began to lag as the attacker’s numbers dwindled.
A radio transmission stated, "Eli Allbee is down, he's dead." A minute later Zeb sadly announced, "Momma, Daddy, Morgan Jr. got hit. He's gone."
I winced at the loss. Eli and Morgan were both good guys. But I couldn't spend time mourning dead men now.
Ed stood close beside me and spoke, "Something strange is going on. Before I made the first shot I saw people jogging through the woods coming this way from the county road. At first, I thought reinforcements were on the way for these guys attacking us, but I was mistaken. Fast running zombies have slipped up behind those paramilitary guys. Let's step to the west side and see what the hells going on."
What Ed said didn't make any sense. Zombies always attacked as a single group unless two groups came from different directions. And they were always noisy. They'd never quietly sneaked up on us. As we watched, whole bodied undead actually crept up behind the gunmen to attack them.
Then I heard them. Ed and I looked to the south through the six-inch wide gunport. The wailing and screeching in the distance came from the slow-runners following behind their faster brethren. The paramilitary soldiers were caught between the zombies attacking them from behind and us. I yelled, "Let the zombies attack, and then kill them and the humans. If you get clear shots at both of them take both out."
A call for Shane over the radio got my attention. "This is Ira. I need you in room thirty-seven. Janice has been shot and it's bad. Hurry!"
I ran down the hall, dodging people without radios who didn't know about the emergency. Shane cut through a perpendicular hall and raced ten feet in front of me. At the field hospital he burst through the door, and I stopped behind him in the doorway and stared. Janice took a hit to the face. She was covered in blood and didn't respond as Ira continued to work on her. I'd seen enough battlefield injuries to be certain she wasn't going to survive the massive damage that had ripped the right side of her face and temple area away.
Shane fell to his knees, gripped Janice's hand, and cried softly. He spoke her name several times and glanced up to Ira for some sign of hope. Ira looked as sad as I'd ever seen him as he shook his head. I said, "Come on buddy, she's gone, and we're in the way here." He struggled to stay put, then moved in a daze as I guided him to the door
Vivian and Andrea took Shane's hands and gently pushed me away. They went down the hall trying to give comfort to a distraught friend while sending me to do my job.
I left the clinic in a daze and found a gunport that wasn't manned. A target presented himself and I dropped him with a perfect head shot. He wouldn't become a zombie and have to be shot again.
Sporadic shots continued to ring out as targets presented themselves. Only occasional gunfire was directed at us as the attackers now had more than enough to keep them busy. Some of their survivors ran from us and went deeper into the woods. That was a non-starter. The fast running zombies would hound them for hours on end, if the humans could last that long. My radio barked in my ear. Ed dolefully said, "Angie Butler is down. She took one in the throat and it blew her spinal cord out. James is here with her."
I jogged back to the clinic and stopped at the doorway.
From behind me and several feet away, a loud voice barked, "Make a hole! Wounded coming through." Ira pulled a sheet over Janice as I stepped clear. Morgan Halcom was carried into the room. Blood coved his right chest area, but he was still cognizant. Right behind him Verlie trotted in wearing a worried frown.
Shooting died down to occasional rounds from our people. I turned to get back involved when Albert Gonzales escorted Kira to the clinic. She held a bloody towel to her left arm about three inches down from the shoulder. Her face was a little pale. Marcie and Ira were busy working on Morgan and stabilized his condition.
Verlie turned and saw the new patient waiting. She wiped tears away as she spoke, "Let
