Dawn of the Apocalypse: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel (6 page)

            I'd forgotten all about pulling guard duty.  They'd probably expect me to work the next day, too.  Yeah, not happy.

            "What are we guarding?  The perimeter?   Front gate?"

            "No, you're guarding the brig and armory," he said.  "They have another unit guarding the perimeter."

            I looked at Mike, then Charlie, and grinned.

Chapter 8

            I quickly put on all my gear.  Kevlar helmet.  WEB gear.  It was pretty basic.  In a war zone we were issued a lot more equipment.  Then I headed over to the armory, where I was issued my M-4 and pistol.  I was even given three full 30-round magazines for the rifle, and two for the Beretta 9mm.  The "enlisted" men showed up and were issued their weapons and ammo.

            There were just six men.  One for the brig and one for the armory per shift.  We all knew how guard duty worked, but I gave them the spiel again.  Everyone was going to be on guard for two hours, four hours off to sleep.  I didn't know what time guard duty ended, but most likely around 6 AM.  That was twelve hours, so each man would pull two shifts.

            I was expected to stay awake all night.

            "Here you go, Sarge," SSG Edwards said, handing over the armory keys.  The armorer looked harried after a long day of issuing weapons.  I really didn't expect her to give me the keys.  No one ever gave me keys when I was on active duty.  "If anything happens, meet me back here so I can open up and issue weapons.  Otherwise, give the keys back to me in the morning."

            After marching the guard detail over to HQ, I formed them up right in front of the five Humvees idling away.  Only one of the drivers still sat in her vehicle.  I went inside to find the Officer of the Guard.  It was Lieutenant Miller, a raw butter bar National Guard officer.  He looked out of his comfort zone, but was putting on a brave face.  Sort of.

            "Sir, the guards are ready for inspection."

            After the inspection, which he barely took any time to conduct, Lieutenant Miller gave me the keys to the brig with orders to keep a close eye on them.

            "Also, that first Humvee is ours," he said.  He pointed at the brand new one, with no top.  "They didn't give us a driver, but I don't see any reason we'd need to use it."  He started to go back inside the Brigade TOC.  "Oh, you are also responsible for ensuring all five are topped off at all times."

            "What about that driver?"

            The driver looked up from the book she was reading and frowned.  She was a pretty little brunette.  Her rank was PFC, and she had a patch on her left shoulder that I'd learned was the area's Army Reserve unit.  Sanchez was on her name tag.

            "She's yours to use."

            I looked her over after the lieutenant left.

            "By use he means I'll drive you around," she said.

            We both laughed.  "Don't worry.  I'm happily married, PFC."

            "Oooh, I have a gun.  I wasn't worried."

            "Duly noted," I said.  She kind of reminded me of Jenny.  "How much fuel do you have?"

            "Three-quarters of a tank, Sergeant."

            After ordering her to top off all five vehicles, I posted the guards and assigned the others their shifts.  As the pieces began falling into place, my doubts increased.  I knew what I had to do, but the real prospect of going AWOL was starting to sink in.  I was about to break Military Law and do a very bad thing.  Under the current situation, it could be a capital offense.

            I hadn't heard a declaration of war, but the nation was under Martial Law and a state of National Emergency.  AWOL might be tantamount to treason at that time.

            And then I thought of Jenny, Timmy, and Harlan.

            So I sent the brig guard over to help PFC Sanchez top off the five Humvees.  I took his post while he was gone.  The brig was a hastily constructed shack surrounded by three rolls of stacked concertina wire.  Obviously just a temporary facility.  The men inside were looking at their first night in jail, and an uncertain future.

            "Why are you guys in here?  Just because you refuse to serve again?"

            A couple nodded, but none of them seemed inclined to speak to me.

            "If some guys out here decided to go over the fence, would any of you want to go, too?"

            That got their attention.

            "What do you get out of it?" one of them asked.

            "Confusion.  Everyone taking off, going in different directions will confuse and divide the pursuing units.  That'll give everyone a better chance of escape.  Are you in?"

            "You know we are."

            "Good.  Rest up.  It'll be many hours before we go," I said.  "By the way, the other guards are not in on it, so no talking about it."

            I trusted those men as much as a snake in my shorts.  But I really thought I had a better chance of escaping with everyone running off on their own.

            Just after midnight Mike and Charlie met with me.  They were dressed in their helmets and WEB gear.  We finalized our barely sketched out plans.  Charlie had managed to acquire a gas station road map of the region, so we could maneuver cross country if need be.  A topographic map would've been better, but it was better than nothing.

            The first three guard shifts went without incident.  Halfway through the fourth shift, I sent both guards over to help PFC Sanchez top off the Humvees again.  And by the end of their shift at 2 AM, both guards were groggy and swaying on their feet.  I relieved them, sending them back to the guard tent.

            "Just go to bed.  I already woke up your relief," I said.

            And amazingly, they did.  I really half-expected them to go ahead and check on their relief, but the SOG usually woke the relief early so there was no gap between shifts.  They took me on my word.

            "How did you get rid of the guards?" Mike whispered when he and Charlie joined me next to the armory.

            "I told them to go to bed and that I'd already awakened their relief."

            "But they're all in the same tent.  They could see their relief sleeping," Charlie said.

            I shrugged and grinned.  "It worked.  They probably went to sleep knowing I was waiting for a relief that was not coming.  I bet they thought it funny."

            I had double-checked to ensure the last shift didn't wake up the next.  They were all sound asleep, with a few of them snoring.

            "That's sad," Mike said, and sighed.

            We unlocked the armory, and then went inside and unlocked all of the weapon racks.  We got ourselves well-armed.  Charlie and I took M-4 Airborne rifles.  Mike grabbed an M-4 with M203.  We set a M-249 SAW aside with twelve 200 round belts of ammo.  We wanted to ensure we got our cache before I unleashed the prisoners inside the armory.

            Once we were locked and loaded, the three of us headed for the makeshift brig.  The prisoners were all up and waiting.  That worried me.  If they saw what we were doing, what kept others from doing the same?

            I thought of PFC Sanchez.

            "Quick.  Get inside the armory," I commanded.  "And be quiet."

            They did me proud and went from brig to armory without a word or joyful cry.  One and all looked frightened and determined.  We all knew we were committing a terrible crime in the military.  The consequences would be severe if caught.

            "Take whatever weapons you want," Mike told them.  "Don't overload yourselves to the point you cannot run and fight."

            Charlie distributed the ammo based on the weapons they chose.  Once they were all armed I got their attention.

            "Okay, here's the deal.  There are five idling Humvees in front of headquarters.  We're going to run over there, jump into vehicles, and tear ass.  Do NOT fire a shot unless absolutely necessary.  One shot, and everyone in camp is awake."  They nodded.  "One last thing.  There is at least one driver in the Humvees.  PFC Sanchez is a chick.  Don't touch her.  Just chase her off."

            "Oh man, I know Sanchez.  She's hot," one guy said.  "I don't think I'll be chasing her off."

            "I said she's off limits."

            "Fuck you.  Who do you think – "

            I shot him in the right thigh, and then kicked him in the jaw as he fell.  He hit the ground unconscious.  Everyone looked at me like I was crazy.

            "That scumbag was talking kidnapping and rape, so he's lucky I didn't kill his ass.  Anyone have a problem with that?" I demanded.  They were grim, but said nothing.  "Good."

            They were silent, gawking down at the dead man.  So I opened the door.  "Me and my friends get the first truck in line.  You can have the other four.  GO!"

            We didn't have time to sort it all out.  After I shot that guy, we had to go balls to the wall.  I could hear the camp coming alive as I ran out the door.  Mike and Charlie were right behind me.  We all carried extra cases of ammo and the SAW.

            It was a short run.  Sanchez was standing next to her Humvee and looking our way curiously.  I waved her away.

            "Run for your life!"

            She was a smart girl.  PFC Sanchez raced away into the dark.  Charlie, Mike, and I tossed our stuff in the back of the open Humvee in front.  I jumped behind the wheel.  I heard Charlie racking the SAW in back.  Mike rode shotgun, and loaded a 40mm grenade into the M203.  And then he fired it at the front gate, scattering the guards there.

            Colonel Humphries and Lieutenant Miller were running towards us.  Humphries was in his boxers and firing his pistol at us.  I hit the gas.  Charlie almost fell out when we surged forward.  He cussed a blue streak.

            "Hold on," I cried.

            "Too late, ass," he replied.

            The gate guards started shooting.  Mike and Charlie laid down suppressive fire.  Shots rang out from the Humvees behind us.  I was pissed.  A firefight was the last thing I wanted.  And it was my fault for shooting that asshole in the armory.

            The camp gate was just an unpainted 2X4 across the road that the guards could swivel inward or outward to let vehicles pass.  I hit it about 30 MPH.  Surprisingly, it didn't break, just swung around super fast to slam into the concertina wire.  All four other vehicles made it out of the gate.

            The Humvees behind us turned on their headlights.  That was a no-no in the Army.  But then, it was pretty dark.  I kept mine off, but was able to see with their lights down that dirt road.  When we hit the blacktop, I turned on my lights.  I turned eastward, heading towards home.  To my surprise, all four of the other Humvees followed me.

            "What are they doing?" I asked.  "We should all go in different directions."

            "I saw this all of the time as a scout," Mike said.  "In the Army, it's follow the leader.  No one wants to think for themselves."

            "Charlie, get on the radio and tell those guys to split up."

            "The TOC will hear us," he said.

            Every radio in our brigade was on the same frequency.  The TOC would monitor multiple frequencies, all for different commands up and down the chain.

            As if on cue, Colonel Humphries voice came over the radio, threatening us with high crimes and misdemeanors.  If you believed him, we were all going to be hung, shot, and then court-martialed.  I had Charlie turn off the radio.

            "Why?  We can monitor what they are doing."

            "No.  They'll change to another frequency before coming after us," I said.  "We're the idiots, not them."

            Mike had the map.  He was looking for a dirt road that would take us off the highway and get us out of the mountains and onto the plains beyond.  I got all tingly thinking about it.  I was going home.

           
Jenny, I'm coming.

Chapter 9

            "Zombies!" Charlie cried.

            A little too late.  We crested a hill, and then plowed into them on the other side.  Bloody, broken bodies were thrown left and right. One of them came over the hood.  Mike stood up and shot him in the head over the windshield.

            "Stay on the road!" Charlie shouted.

            The barely there dirt road went left, but I was so caught up in all of the zombies I didn't notice.  Spinning the wheel, I tried to get back on the road.  It probably didn't matter much since there wasn't much flat ground to either side of the road there.

            Charlie opened up with the SAW.  Zombies dropped in waves before us.  Problem was most of them got back up.

            "Head or heart!  Don't waste ammo on anything else," I said.  "We won't be resupplied with ammo when we run out."

            Charlie continued with three to five round bursts.  Mike fired them up with single shots.  He was actually taking the time to aim.  The four vehicles behind us were all in full automatic mode.  I shook my head and accelerated into the remaining zombies.

            "Holy fucking crap," Charlie cried once we were past them.  "Did you get a good look at those bastards?  They were all bloody and missing lips and ears and eyes."

            "That your first encounter with zombies?" I asked.

            "Yeah.  I saw them on TV, but…"

            They were disturbing to look at.  No argument there.  Worse was knowing that they were good people just like us before the bio-agent turned them into monsters.

            We rounded a bend and spotted a dozen or more zombies to our right and on high ground above us.  Mike started shooting at them.

            "What are you doing?"