Fortunes & Failures - 03 (29 page)

“NO!” I yelled cutting her off. “And there isn’t going to be a discussion. No more picking and choosing when I am the leader. I need to know that,
if
something happens to me, and you can bet that I’ll be fighting till the end, I have to know that Thalia and Emily will be taken care of. Now get your ass back in that tower!”

Tears filled Teresa’s eyes. She opened her mouth, then closed it again and leaned in to kiss my cheek. I returned the gesture kissing her forehead.

“Fiona, Billy, Brad, Sunshine,” I called over the gunfire. They stopped and looked at me expectantly. I could see it in their faces. They actually believed that I would have an answer, a solution. “Form a line at the head of the driveway. Once they reach the parking lot, they can fan out again. We need to take down as many as possible before they reach the top of this hill.”

To their credit, I could see each of them swallow their fear. Each brought an M4 and as many loaded magazines as they could scoop up and carry—seven or eight apiece—before they headed down the stairs. I, on the other hand, was confined to the porch. Since I couldn’t shoot over the heads of my companions, I returned my attention to the bridge. At the least, I could slow down their advance. Hopefully, this would allow my improvised firing squad to bring down enough so that when we had to switch to close-in fighting, we stood a chance.

As I reloaded, I scanned the fields for a sign of Jon or Jamie. Apparently both had sought the relative safety of the woods. I was sure that Jon had a plan and that he and Jamie were up to something. Unfortunately, I had no idea what that might be. I was just grateful that they were out there. If I fell, at least I would die knowing that Jon would eventually come to the rescue.

A roaring engine brought my attention back to the road that emerged from the woods. There was a loud ‘brrrp’ from a heavy machinegun as a military Jeep with a .50 caliber mounted in back skidded to a stop just past where our night014w7atch stand sat.

Jake Beebe stood in the driver’s seat and brought an M16 to his shoulder. He commenced firing into the rear of the mob that was packed in between the berms, while Jesus Sanchez practically vaporized them with the .50 caliber. Once they’d cut down a huge number, Jake dropped back down behind the wheel and moved forward, rolling over the carpet of fallen corpses. Zombies being what they are, many of those that had just moments ago been heading our way, turned to face their final demise.

Like a piece of taffy, the mob began to pull apart at the center. The good news was that more of them were turning to face the barrage from the Jeep. The bad news was that we’d still have to face a frightening number up here. The leading edge was almost to the little parking lot in front of the Visitor’s Center—our home. My four-person firing squad was backing up steadily. They would be forced to switch to handguns and personal handheld weapons any time now.

“Fan out!” I called. “Try to keep them in front of you. Brad, stick with Sunshine; Billy, you stay with Fiona and watch each other’s back.”

As much as I wanted to watch Jake and Jesus, I was needed right here. I could now be selecting targets without the danger to my friends. Switching to my .45, I moved down the rail of the porch. I knew that if those things made it past the parking lot, I’d be cut off from the house; that couldn’t be helped. The slide locked back as I emptied the first of my five magazines.

A handful of heartbeats later, I was reloaded and selecting targets once more. The others were switching to their hand-to-hand weapons as the zombies were now in the small parking lot. Trying to shoot them amidst the melee was too dangerous. It was obvious that Sunshine was the least adept of the bunch, so I kept most of my attention on the zombies around her.

As I slammed my last magazine home and let the slide jack forward, I noticed that it had grown strangely quiet. Looking around, I spoted Jesus and Jake at the bridge. They’d cleared the road all that way! At some point they’d gotten out of the jeep to clear the mess of bodies and body parts off the bridge to enable their crossing. I also noted that our trench was a roiling sea of undead.

The ‘Fearsome Foursome’ had methodically eliminated the zombies that managed to get this far. Now, everybody seemed unsure as to what to do. Down in the fields I could see several stragglers still wandering this way. But the worst of the threat was over…and we’d survived. Looking at all the corpses littering the ground, I was awestruck. It seemed like we’d overcome an impossible situation.

Part of my mind refused to accept it. It seemed too incredible to fathom that we’d just faced so many of those things without suffering a single casualty. Then I began to search for any sign of Jon or Jamie. A small nugget of uncertainty began to grow in my gut. With the sound of gunfire gone, I could hear my companions talking as they moved through the carnage in order to ensure that the ones that were down would stay that way. I could hear the Jeep idling somewhere down the driveway. They were just around the corner by the sounds of it. Part of me truly wanted to hope, to believe, that we’d survived this latest horror. However, past experience would not let me. There had to be another shoe that would drop any minute now and cause pain, grief, and heartbreak.

The door to the house opened, and out stepped Melissa, Teresa, Dr. Zahn and the girls. Each of them was carrying a weapon; even Thalia who clutched a hammer in one tiny fist. Something felt odd, then I realized I was smiling.

“Papi!” Thalia squeeled and hurried over to me, careful to hug me on the side of my good leg. “Did we win?” She looked up at me expectantly.

“I think so, Princess,” I said, then looked up at the others. “I really think so.”

The sound of the Jeep pulling up brought everybody’s head around. Jesus stood in the rear, a big grin on his face. As Jake put the vehicle in park, he leaned down and opened the passenger door. A fuzzy-eared Border Collie came bounding out and scrabbled up to a shreaking Thalia.

“Somebody missed his master,” Jesus said.

I felt a nudge at my side. Emily had come to stand beside me. I put my arm around her shoulder and holstered my pistol. I noticed she was holding a handaxe. As odd as it seemed, I made a note to myself to ensure that she would learn how to use that weapon effectively.

“We heard the gunfire and hauled a—” Jesus started, then glanced at Thalia who was scratching Buster’s exposed belly; a sight that couldn’t help but remind me of my dog Pluck. “We came in a hurry,” he amended.

“Yeah.” Jake nodded. “They’re gonna do a sweep as well as make sure that all the noise doesn’t bring another mob of those things stumbling into camp.”

“Sarge said that they will probably be a day or two away from camp,” Sanchez informed us, kneeling down beside Thalia and Buster. “
¿Te extranjaste tu perrito?
”

“
Sí
.” Thalia’s head popped up at the sound of her native tongue.
Then
, a flood of words came out of which I understood nothing. A tinge of jealousy shaded the edge of my heart as I watched the two converse in Spanish.

“What do we do now, boss?” Jake was standing beside me and Melissa was giving me a raised eyebrow which meant that somebody had likely asked that question at least once already.

“Suit up in protective gear.” I shook off the unpleasant feelings…sort of. “We’ve got some burning to do.”



“Can I throw in the flare?” Emily stepped up beside me as I stared down into the writhing mass in the trench. We’d been hauling, shoveling, and scraping up bodies all day and Brad and Jake had just finished dousing them. The acrid smell of fuel—kerosene, diesel, and gasoline—battled with the stench of rot from the dead.

“What?” I know I heard her, but I was admittedly shocked by the request.

“I want to throw in the flare,” Emily stated very matter-of-factly.

I looked down into the trench at all the faces that stared up at me. Mouths opened and closed, teeth gnashed. Then there were the sounds. I looked back to Emily who was staring down as well. Her expression wasn’t blank, but I honestly couldn’t read what she was feeling. Was this the new world equivalent of licking the beaters after the batch of chocolate chip cookies had been mixed? I didn’t think so. There was something else going on. Then I saw
him
.

Standing in the midst of the zombies that had crossed the open field and fallen into the trench was a zombie that could be none other than Randall Smith, Emily’s father. His dress shirt was a shredded mess and his body had been feasted upon. His insides had been torn out long ago and only dried bits could be seen flapping from the edge of the hole. His tie had actually tightened to the point of severely constricting his throat so severely that I doubted he could actually swallow anything. His dead eyes looked up at me and Emily with absolutely no recognition.

Then I began to notice a few soldiers in the midst of the truly dead as well as those still moving around down in the trench. I couldn’t swear that I recognized any of their faces, but I couldn’t swear that I didn’t either. However, I did recognize Randall Smith…and so did Emily.

“Do you know how to light it?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

I handed the red stick to her and watched as she moved just a little closer to the edge. Where the hell were Teresa or Melissa when I needed them?

“Emily?” I moved beside and shifted my crutch out of the way so I could put my arm around her. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do this?”

“I’m sure.” She looked back down into the trench of writhing, clawing, fuel soaked zombies. “But now I also know he won’t be coming back anymore.”

I was speechless. What the heck am I supposed to say to a ten-year-old girl who is staring down at the zombified version of her father? And then I realized what that look was on her face.

Surrender.

“Em?” I cursed my leg and inability to kneel down and look this little girl in the eyes. Instead, I tucked my curled index finger under her chin and tilted her face up to me. “Do you know that I will not leave you?”

“But you did just a few days ago.”

Ouch
!

“Yes, but I did it because I had to lead a bunch of those things away so they wouldn’t hurt you,” I tried to explain.

“But they came anyways.”

I was beginning to doubt the whole ‘ten-years-old’ thing. She was verbally running me off a cliff. “Yes, they did. And I’m sure there will be more, but I will protect you. I’ll take care of you for as long as I live.”

The zombie of Randall Smith continued to push and shove with the others. He showed no more or less interest in his daughter who stood above him than any of the others. So I stood there, arm around Emily, and waited for her.

“Dad?” Emily called again, the strain of holding back tears causing her voice to sound a bit strangled. “Dad, it’s me, Emily. I want you to know that I’ll be okay, Dad. Steve takes good care of me, and Thalia is just like that baby sister you and mom promised but never had. I love you, Dad. And I hope it’s okay with you, but I’m gonna let Steve be my daddy now. And if he gets married to Melissa, then I’ll probably let her be my mommy. So…I guess that’s all. I love you great big lots of bunches, Dad!”

I remained still, not sure if she was done or not, then, Emily pulled the ignition cap of the flare. The stick came to life in a blinding white flash. She tossed it and we stepped back as it arched in the air then disappeared past the lip. There was a sizzling sound then a ‘whoosh’ as the fuel-soaked creatures caught.

We both pulled up the eucalyptus oil-soaked bandanas that Dr. Zahn had given everybody. Emily leaned against me, her head nestled into my side. It was the most bonding moment I’d ever experienced; which is a bit sad when you think about it. All my life I’ve been content to hover in the middle of mediocrity. I lived in anonymity when there were people all around probably just as alone…as lonely as I was. Hell, my closest friend was a Bassett Hound. What does that say about me as a person? I rescued Thalia, but I never knew—and still don’t know—her mother’s name.