Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict (39 page)

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Authors: Joshua Jared Scott

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BOOK: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict
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“We are
going to head up toward Arapahoe and Riverton, east of the mountains. The
prophet’s men who went north vanished.”

“What do
you mean vanished?”

This was
a bit of news I had not yet received.

“Not in
the magic or sneaky sense,” explained Marvin. “They got lost in the trees on
the way to Yellowstone. The planes couldn’t see them anymore. Now, we think
they were going into the park to get the people we have up there.”

“They
won’t find them,” offered Terrance.

I
believed he was correct in this assessment. Yellowstone National Park
encompassed a vast area, larger than many states, and was heavily wooded.

Marvin
gave his friend a nod. “We are worried that they might swing east instead,
maybe come down and hit some of the ranches and outposts from behind.”

That
made sense, and I had no difficulty picturing such a thing. In fact, there was
a very good chance that this was the raiders’ intent from the start. Fighting
in Yellowstone would be hard – there was no way around that – and simply
finding anyone determined to remain hidden would be all but impossible.

“We’ll
be watching the roads there to make sure this doesn’t happen,” continued
Marvin. “Want to come along?”

 

*
* *

 

“I think
this is way better than fighting with the militia,” commented Mary.

We had reached
the area without much difficulty and hunkered down on a small, wooded rise.
There were sufficient trees to hide our vehicles, and we had enough cover that
we could observe our surroundings without fear of being spotted. Mary was quick
to prepare a fire pit lined with stones, but she was careful to keep it small.
The nearby foliage hid the flames, and what little smoke the fire gave off was
scattered by the wind. It would not reveal our position.

“My mama
always said fighting was bad,” observed Marvin.

“Was she
a pacifist or something?”

“Drill
sergeant,” answered Terrance.

“Really?
Did she make you march around?” asked Mary. “Was that your punishment for being
naughty?”

“Chores
mostly,” replied Marvin, “and digging holes for no reason if we were
particularly bad. Didn’t matter that Terrance wasn’t her son either. He got the
same as me, since most everything we did was together, and then we got whipped
by his parents after my ma handed us off.” He laughed. “Getting yelled at twice
all the time made for an interesting childhood.”

I was
leaning against a tree, gazing through my binoculars at the open expanse before
us. Excluding the shambling dead, there wasn’t much to see. Plenty of zombies
though, with most hanging around buildings or tromping along the roads. It was
a situation that grated on Dale and Tara. They absolutely did not like leaving
zombies alone. I allowed them to bash the skulls of any who approached, which
seemed to mollify the pair somewhat, but I put my foot down when they requested
a formal hunt.

“Almost
time,” said Terrance.

Marvin
checked the volume on his radio as everyone fell silent and waited.

Upon
settling on this location, the man began to call in hourly until he received a
confirmation. He then provided a code which meant we had arrived safely and
were in position. After that, it was several days of total and complete
boredom. Nothing happened. No one had driven past. The only thing that kept me
from yanking my hair out by the roots were the daily messages. At 11:00 AM and
again at 3:30 PM a plane flying overhead would send us a brief transmission.
However, thus far every one had been status unchanged. Something had to be
going on. Maybe the Ranching Collective had us on a need to know system.

“Status,”
crackled the radio. “Initial. Failure.” That was all.

“Ah,
damnation,” snapped Marvin. His hat came off as he threw it to the side.

“Not
good?” asked Mary.

“No, it
isn’t.”

“The
defense force failed,” said Terrance. “That’s the code for that, yes it is.”

“Sheriff
Montans lost?” I asked.

Mary
scooted over to sit next to me, leaning in so she rested against my shoulder.

“Not
him,” explained Marvin. “That would have been secondary, not initial. This was
the first group that went out. Montans was supposed to be to getting ready to
help. Now he’ll have to do all of it himself.”

“You
think everyone was killed? Or just a few? Did they retreat or pull back?”

“I…” He
shook his head. “I think a bunch are dead Jacob. They would have told us
partial or stalemate if it was anything but a total frigging disaster. And you
heard how that pilot sounded. He was not happy.”

“Not at
all,” agreed Terrance.

“Do you
think Montans will attack right away then? Or, do you think he’ll try to set up
a line somewhere else?”

Marvin
hesitated. “I don’t rightly know. The man’s not incompetent. He knows his
business. We’ll just have to see.”

 

*
* *

 

Almost
two weeks went by before we finally saw a real person, meaning a breather.
Several trucks, all of them large, white Ford F-150 pickups, were coming down
the road. Zombies followed, drawn from the horde occupying the towns, but the
monsters were soon left behind.

“Those
are ours,” declared Marvin. He switched the channel on his radio. “Checkpoint
up ahead.”

“Where?”
came the startled response, a moment later.

Terrance
stepped away from the trees and fired a flare into the sky. As overcast as it
was, it should be readily visible.

“You
better hope that doesn’t start a grass fire,” I commented. “There hasn’t been
any rain for days now.”

“Yeah!”
said Mary. “Stop trying to kill us.”

The man
blushed as she poked him in the belly.

“Shame.
Shame. Shame.”

Tara and
Dale had separated and were lying prone, each concealed by thick clumps of
undergrowth, and both had their sniper rifles at the ready, watching the oncoming
trucks through the scopes.

“Keep an
eye on the zombies,” I warned, knowing full well they would do so of their own
accord. “It looks like they’ll put too much distance between them for the
shamblers to keep track, but let’s make sure.”

“If
they’re really raiders in disguise,” said Mary, “you can go ahead and shoot
them, all of them, two or three times each if you want.”

“I only
need one bullet,” remarked Tara.

“We
shoot them in the head,” finished Dale.

“And we
love you for it,” declared Mary, with a cheerful giggle.

“They
only do head shots?” inquired Marvin.

I
nodded. “When they are set up like this, usually, but they’ve taken the heart
before too. And Terrance, you really should move back a few feet. The twins
won’t let you being in the way stop them from shooting, and I’m betting you
don’t want bullets whizzing about between your legs.”

“Could
lead to a nasty accident.”

“Mary
might be right about that,” said Marvin, thoughtfully.

Terrance
quickly stepped aside.

“Those
are definitely Yellowstone staff trucks. It’s our people,” added Marvin. “I’m
sure of that. We’re good.”

 

*
* *

 

Things
were bad. You knew it wouldn’t be otherwise. No, our luck was firmly locked in
the shitty category. I think having Asher come into the world healthy and strong,
if somewhat premature, and Briana recovering nicely might’ve sucked up all the
good fortune. God, I hope that wasn’t the case. The way things were, I was
going to need the dice rolling in my favor sometime soon. I really wanted to be
alive come Christmas.

“So you
managed to kill some of the raiders?” asked Marvin, trying to wrap his head
around what had happened.

The
woman nodded.

“But not
all of them, and they got a bunch of you too.”

Several
heads dropped, and a few of the newcomers looked away. I couldn’t say I blamed
them. The folk in Yellowstone had caught sight of the prophet’s force almost
immediately and shadowed it through the forest all the way to Old Faithful. It
was there that they launched their first ambush. It was a mistake, one of several,
and I might come across as mean, cruel, and petty as I describe these in
painstaking detail.

First of
all, this was a terrible place for an ambush. I’ve been to Yellowstone, and
I’ve seen that portion of the park firsthand. It’s wide open and mostly flat,
hence the reason it held a hotel, gift shops, and a visitor center in the first
place. They should have attacked from a high point like we did or from dense
foliage, but no, that would have made sense. You can’t be doing the smart thing
in war. It’s not allowed.

Nevertheless,
the defenders managed to kill or wound around fifty of the bikers before the
enemy pulled back, taking shelter in the empty buildings. Now, you would have
thought that if they were going to ambush them, they would have also gone ahead
and set traps or explosives. Running for these structures, while under fire, is
the obvious response. Anyone with sense should have anticipated the raiders
going inside. Such sense was apparently lacking.

A more traditional
battle began, with both parties shooting at each other through windows or from
behind trees. The range was long, favoring the defenders, but while the raiders
primarily carried assault rifles and machine guns, several were equipped with
powerful hunting rifles and could effectively return fire. After a few of the
good guys were killed, they pulled back.

That was
another mistake. They were outnumbered, true, but the prophet’s expeditionary
force was pinned down. They didn’t know the area or the terrain. They didn’t
know where to run or how to get at the defenders. The people in Yellowstone
should have kept fighting, or if that was deemed impossible, they should have
instead moved out of range while staying close enough to react the moment they saw
an opening.

Two days
later, the raiders broke out, virtually unopposed, and continued to travel
north. A few scouts called this in, and a second group gathered at an area more
suited for an ambush. Finally. There was a steep rise on the east side of the
road. Opposite this was a drop off leading to some geysers and boiling pools.
As the gang passed by, the defenders let loose. They got quite a few, and the
raiders fled, leaving their dead and wounded behind.

That
little bit of good was overshadowed by yet more bad luck. The victors began to
loot the bodies, something we all do. There were plenty of weapons waiting to
be taken, along with motorcycles, a handful of trucks, and all sorts of other
supplies. Several of the raiders had booby-trapped themselves, however, using
homemade explosive vests. The men who provided this information were unclear on
the details, but it appears they used a dead man’s switch. Regardless of how it
was accomplished, two of the bastards blew up when they were rolled over, taking
seven of the defenders with them and injuring twenty more. Correction, the
raiders were already dead. It was more along the line of following the villains
into the grave.

A new
rule was quickly instituted. Corpses were left where they fell with bullets fired
at the bodies. This resulted in two more exploding, harmlessly this time. Everything
was then doused in gasoline and torched.

Another
twelve were lost the following day. You see, the raiders poisoned their food,
not all of it, but enough that nearly thirty got sick with the aforementioned
dozen perishing. Again, it’s unclear as to how this was accomplished, but it
took nearly three hours for any symptoms to develop, enough time to ensure that
plenty were affected. You may be wondering what sort of food was this. What
could be so enticing, so desirable that the defenders would have started eating
it almost immediately? The answer is candy, mostly chocolate bars and pixie
sticks.

You have
to give the prophet credit, assuming this was his idea and not something one of
the raiders came up with. Yet, I doubt that. From what we’ve seen, they don’t
seem all that bright. I made a mental note to remind Mary, repeatedly, that we
had to be very careful about looting the dead and to either leave food items
behind or destroy them. With her sweet tooth, it was only prudent to drive the
point home.

The
defenders in Yellowstone were understandably upset and demoralized, so they
decided to avoid the raiders completely and pulled their people, aside from a
handful of scouts, deeper into the woods. They didn’t think they were in any
actual danger, and the gang members seemed to be trying to get out of the
national park themselves, but there were no further plans to engage them
directly.

The only
exception was the group that came to warn us of what was happening. They were positioned
on the east side of the park in case they had the opportunity to launch another
ambush when they received news of all that happened. They acknowledged the
instructions to forego attack and instead gathered what intelligence they
could. The raiders soon departed Yellowstone and took US-20 east toward
Burlington.

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