SURVIVORS OF THE DEAD: FROM THE ASHES (16 page)

The ramp leading up from the lower garage into the next level was sizeable, but because of the width of the Bearcat it was still a tight fit. Especially with the curve of the up ramp. Unfortunately Frank misjudged the clearance between the side of the truck and the wall. He slightly scraped the right rear bumper as he drove up the ramp. It wasn’t a hard hit but enough to be heard inside the vehicle.

“Hey! Watch it there Frank!” Derrick cried out from his position between the front and rear compartments. He was leaning slightly forward, enabling him to see through the windshield. “This thing is brand new! You better not wreck it!”

“Shit, sorry guys!” Frank exclaimed in response.

Harry knew ‘wrecking’ the heavy behemoth would be almost impossible, but replied over his shoulder with a laugh, “Don’t worry Derry, a few scraps and dings will give it some character.”

“Yeah, well just be careful,” Derrick replied.

The men had no idea what was in store for the Bearcat before they reached the marina, as there would certainly be some ‘character’ added along the way.

Frank continued ascending to the upper garage, then drove to the bottom of the final ramp that would take them out of the building and stopped. Harry opened the passenger side door, stepping down, then jogging over to the roll up door control. Looking back toward Frank, who gave him the thumbs up through the front windshield confirming that he was ready, Harry pressed the upper green button labeled ‘open’. While the roll up door began to rise, he rushed back to the Bearcat, resuming his position in the passenger seat and slamming the door closed. He watched as the roll up door opened painfully slowly.

“
Go … go … go
!” Harry urged when he saw the door almost fully up.

By the time Frank drove up the ramp the door was fully open. He made an immediate left on Vallejo Street toward Columbus which was only half block down. Frank also instantly collided with at least a dozen of the infected that still milled around on the street in front of the station. They had obviously been attracted to the sound of the roll up door, not to mention the siren that could still be plainly heard in the background. Frank kept the vehicle’s momentum powering forward and had no difficulty plowing through the mass of bodies. That did nothing to ease the revulsion each man felt seeing the destruction the heavy Bearcat delivered to the soft bodies in its path.

The infected were being flung from both sides of the big truck like rag dolls as the ram served its intended purpose of wedging a path. Because the ram was raised to its highest position, many of the bodies were being caught under the front wheels, creating a noticeable thumping sensation felt through the flooring, quickly followed by one set of the double rear tires finishing the job of grinding what was left into the street surface. Harry was very much aware of the blood and gore that erupted outward each time one of the heavy front tires rolled over and crushed a body.

“Lower the ram a bit, Frank. We don’t want to get anything caught in the undercarriage,” Harry said, not taking his eyes from the horrific scene unfolding in front of them and being displayed in all-too-living-color on the cab monitor. The Bearcat was powerful, but he still had concerns that if enough bodies got caught under the vehicle at once it might high center them and they could lose traction. He did not want to take any chances being stranded in what he was observing.

As Frank operated the lever, Harry continued to watch the monitor with the front camera view; he saw the ram slowly lower to about ten inches off the street surface. Just enough room to keep it from gouging the surface if they happened to hit a depression or rise in the street.

“That’s good,” Harry said, satisfied with the new position.

The Bearcat continued to clear the infected that flung themselves in its path while they travelled the short distance to the intersection. Frank made the left turn onto Columbus, then stepped hard on the brakes, bringing the big truck to an immediate halt. Looking down Columbus, all three men could only stare in total disbelief at what they saw.

Trash and litter was slung everywhere, with dead and mutilated bodies lying amongst the debris. The men could see many of the infected still kneeling by the bodies, tearing them apart. In some cases as many as six of them on one body.
For some reason the scene brought to mind the movie
I Am Legend
. Harry fervently wished the infected currently roaming San Francisco shunned the light of day like those in the movie. But the scene before him told of an entirely different plot as he watched a rather large group of infected quickly moving in their direction.

“Back it up and go to Powell. We’ll try to get onto Columbus further up,” Harry said urgently.

Frank quickly put the Bearcat in reverse, backing up a few feet, then steered onto Vallejo again. There were more of the infected on the block between Vallejo and Powell in front of the station. It was obvious that the noise from the Bearcat had attracted a few more to the area, but not as many as Harry had feared. A
few
were too many but more tolerable to the psyche than the dozens that were making their way toward the men on Columbus.

Harry glanced over at Frank, pleased to see that although he was white-knuckling the steering wheel and sweating bullets from the adrenalin that was assuredly coursing through his system, he seemed to be in control.

“We’ve doing just fine, kid,” Harry said calmly in an attempt to reassure Frank, who simply nodded his reply.

“Yeah, but we’re going to need a car wash real soon,” Derrick added disgustedly.

“Frank, I want to you to drive to the next intersection and stop if possible. We need to see what it looks like before we get in the middle of more of those things,” Harry directed.

Frank closed the distance very quickly, once again knocking aside anything that was in the truck’s path, bringing the Bearcat to a halt about halfway into the intersection of Powell. Harry looked out his side door window and down the street to the north. Although he still saw the infected milling about, he noted that there were not as many compared to what they had just seen on Columbus. Also, there weren’t as many vehicles blocking the street in this direction. Harry took that all in within sixty seconds.

“Okay, looks like we’ve got some cars down there but we should be able to either go around or push through them. Of course some of our infected friends are milling about, but we should be able to clear them. Frank, you do whatever you have to but get us through and back onto Columbus. Take that to Bay Street and hang a left. Go to Fillmore which should give us a clear shot right into the marina. You know how to get there as well as I do. Stay flexible though, and detour if you feel it necessary. Copy that?” Harry asked, knowing his directions were redundant. Frank would know the easiest route to take but Harry felt better voicing the directions.

Frank glanced over and replied, “Copy that, LT.”

Over his shoulder Harry then said, “Derry, we need to ride cover in the hatch. We’ll try to thin out those things as much as possible. I know this truck is badass but I don’t want to take the chance of getting bogged down somewhere.”

“I’m on it,” Derrick replied as he turned to open the roof hatch and raise the platform under it.

Harry gave Frank a quick pat on the shoulder as he climbed over the center console and into the rear compartment to join Derrick. As soon as Harry cleared the console, Frank put the truck in reverse and backed up just enough to make room for the right turn onto Powell. Just as he put the truck into drive, a throng of infected caught up with them and started hammering on the rear of the truck. It was obvious to the men that it was part of the horde from Columbus Street.

Moving the short distance to the platform, Harry saw that Derrick had already stepped up and was in position through the open roof hatch. He also noticed that there were two small field bags attached to the hatch edge. Derrick glanced down, seeing Harry looking at the bags, and said, “Magazines.”

Harry nodded while stepping up on the platform. He unslung his AR, bringing it up and out of the hatch opening first so it was in position. At only about four feet in diameter, the roof opening was going to be tight with both men filling it, but they would manage. Disengaging the safety on his AR, Harry was ready to rock.

Both men were back-to-back, Harry facing forward and Derrick facing the rear. The moaning and pounding from the infected on the Bearcat made normal conversation almost impossible. Harry shouted, “Derry, take three to nine and I’ll focus on nine to three. Let’s take out what we can but keep it single-round-fire to conserve ammo. We just need to keep the Bearcat clear enough to move. Headshots kill but shooting out a hip or center mass for spinal damage will at least put them down. Let’s execute this with extreme prejudice.” Harry had not intended a pun but grimly thought it appropriate for the situation.

“Copy that,” Derrick replied and immediately fired his first round as he began clearing his sector.

Harry brought his own rifle into firing position and aligned the EOTech electronic sight on the first infected: a woman who might have been beautiful before the outbreak. The right side of her face was a smooth, creamy-soft complexion. Long, reddish-blonde hair fell slightly over her right eye, obscuring what Harry momentarily envisioned as an iris of ice blue. That image of beauty was instantly broken as she turned and he took in the left side of her face. Skin, hair, and muscle were ripped from the skull, and a yellowish white eyeball dangled against her cheek by the optic nerve, swinging from side to side as the woman shuffled toward the truck. “Head in the game here, Harry,” he muttered as he pulled the trigger, sending a round through her head and obliterating it from the body. Quickly taking a deep breath, he realigned on the next target as the Bearcat began to move slowly through the mass of infected.

24

Harry found his rhythm moving from target to target, blocking any thought that the rancid things surrounding the Bearcat had once been human beings. Now they were just an impediment to his goal. Putting the red dot on the next target he fired, reacquired a new target and fired again, continuing through this process and his first 30-round mag. Ejecting the empty and letting it fall to the floor, he reached into the field bag and removed a full mag, tapped it twice to seat the rounds, inserted it into the AR, pulled back the charging bolt and resumed firing.

Harry knew Derrick was going through the same process. They were both in their zones. He desperately tried to ignore the horrific stench being emitted from the putrid near-dead carcasses that ran, walked, or crawled toward the Bearcat. Any lingering doubts that Harry might have had in regard to what the infected were, or more specifically were not, had finally been laid to rest.

With what he had been forced to do in the apartment building and during his excursion to the police station, he had still held onto a fine thread of hope that these people, these things, were salvageable. A cure could be found and the infection reversed. What he was witnessing now, however, clearly delivered the indisputable truth that these things were nothing more than monsters made real. These mangled, mutilated, and rotting near-dead things that infested the City, the world, would not be cured by some miracle vaccine or divine intervention. It was far too late for that possibility, and the only thing left for Harry to do was survive.

The infected could not be reasoned with, only pitied momentarily for their lost humanity. Destroying them, completely eradicating them from the face of the earth, was the only logical path to take. Harry now fully accepted that they were nothing more than blight, a horrendous scourge that had to be pushed into oblivion if the rest of what remained of mankind were to survive. He had a long way to travel and knew if he did not keep that fact clearly in mind his family, his friends, and others he might encounter would perish. This final acceptance drove steel into Harry’s very being as he continued to fire relentlessly into the horde surrounding the Bearcat.

Frank continued to drive down Powell Street, maneuvering around obstacles when possible or pushing them from the Bearcat’s path with the ram. The infected were converging on the moving truck in ever-increasing numbers, and he knew he could not slow the progress being made. Up to this point Frank had tried to avoid hitting as many of those things as possible, but he felt the truck slowing under the onslaught. If the truck lost forward momentum the men would be in serious trouble, so Frank applied pressure to the gas pedal and started plowing straight through them. The Bearcat’s matte-black finish had become slick with all manner of gore. He had to use the windshield wipers several times to clear the blood and unidentifiable bits and pieces of body parts that flew over the front of the truck as he drove through groups of the infected.

Finally reaching Columbus, Frank made a hard left-hand turn and accelerated down the surprisingly obstacle-free street. The infected were still evident, but he was able to push the Bearcat up to almost thirty miles per hour. He slowed at intersections but did not stop, and fortunately was only required to go around a few vehicles that had been abandoned on the street.

Frank reached the Bay Street intersection within minutes, then made a sharp left turn, knowing they were at about the half way mark to the marina. Although vigilant, he continued to push the speed as much as possible given the current conditions.

Bay Street remained relatively clear until the Bearcat reached the intersection at Fillmore where Frank needed to make a right turn for the final leg of the trip. The intersection was blocked by two ladder trucks from the San Francisco Fire Department, a bus, and several cars. Quickly determining that he could not get the Bearcat around that mess, Frank brought the truck to a complete stop, put it into reverse and floored the gas pedal to back the truck up to Webster. The quick stop and reversing of the truck tossed both Harry and Derrick around in the open roof hatch.