Six Feet From Hell: Unity: 6FFH Book #5 (12 page)

CHAPTER
12

April 18, 2022 – 1400 Hours

The makeshift convoy rumbled down Route 460 towards Tazewell. It had been over fifteen minutes since their run from the tunnel, but Joe’s heart was still pounding away. It was times like these that he was reminded that he was mortal. He may have been vaccinated years before, but the notion of him being torn to shreds by the walking dead still wasn’t the way he wanted to go out. He’d been bitten several times over the course of the last ten years, and each time it still unsettled him. It showed the people that he served and the lives he protected were unimaginably fragile. They had managed to make it this far just on their wits and survival instincts alone. Granted, he was the one who was called when shit hit the fan, but it was no less a miracle there were
any
people alive. He sat in the passenger’s side of the LMTV contemplating everything that had just happened, as he was accustomed to doing. It was his own internal AAR (After Action Report).

“Pull
us over for a second.” Joe looked to Curtis, simultaneously keying up his radio as he did to notify the Dodge.

Curtis
nodded silently and eased the LMTV to the side of the road. They were a little under a mile away from the wall and Joe wanted to check the back of the LMTV for unwanted stowaways, just in case. The Dodge in front of them did as well, slowing to a stop.

Joe
and Curtis hopped down from the LMTV, shutting their doors as they did. Rick exited the bed of the truck with Kane. The German shepherd happily bounded off and promptly relieved himself on the side of the road.

“Yeah,
I got the same feeling, buddy,” Joe said, watching the dog trot off. He waved his cohorts from the Dodge over to him.

Boyd
came over to the front of the LMTV. “What’s the hold up?”

Joe
started back to the end of the LMTV. “Just wanted to make sure we didn’t have any unwanted guests in the back of this thing. God forbid that we bring a zombie into the middle of town; that’d be a fuckin’ disaster. Plus, I wanna grab some more ammo.”

The
troupe of men circled the LMTV, looking over every square inch of the large military vehicle. After they were satisfied that they didn’t have any undesirables clinging on, they moved on to the rear of the truck. Joe drew his .45 and aimed it at the bed of the truck as Boyd and Captain White undid the latches and flung the tarp open. The only thing that greeted them was the cases of ammo, two racks of M4’s, and several boxes of unused uniforms. It wasn’t a great haul, and was not worth the high amount of risk that they had just endured to get it, but all’s well that ended well.

Joe
holstered his .45. “Well, I don’t guess it’s the mother lode, but it’ll do. We can always use more rifles and ammo.”

Joe
handed Rick his rifle. Grabbing onto the rear of the truck, he pulled himself up. Several cases of ammo were off to his left of various calibers. Since they had managed to salvage a Ma Deuce from the abandoned LMTV, and Jamie’s newfound Barrett, the case of .50 caliber BMG ammo would serve them well. There was a case of it, and a half-dozen cases of 5.56mm NATO rounds to supply their M4’s and two cases of 7.62mm rounds for Rick’s AR-10.

Apart from
the other boxes of uniforms and the ammo, the haul was less than impressive, but any supplies would be put to use. Joe meandered around for a few more seconds, and then sat down on the back of the truck.

“Well,
since we don’t have any stowaways, I’d say that all in all, we’re good to go. I’ll get ya’ll to give me a hand once we get to town so we can load up magazines. Let’s head out so we can…”

A
single gunshot rang out, coming from the direction of town. It was a mile away, but the sound made the men jump. A single shot wasn’t uncommon, but every time gunfire was involved, that meant that undead were involved in some capacity. Several seconds passed, and no other shots were heard.

“Anyway,
like I was saying,” Joe said, directing his attention back to his men.

A
scream interrupted him again, followed by another shot.

Joe
jumped down from the truck, walked around to face the direction of town, and stood. His heart rate picked up. Several more random shots and another scream cut through the air. His adrenal glands went into overdrive, letting him know there was something else going on, something that he couldn’t put his finger on. Without saying a word, he jumped back into the truck as his men gathered around, each one wanting to get to town and find out exactly what was going on.

“That
doesn’t sound good,” Boyd said worriedly.

“No.
No it doesn’t. It’s got to be a breach!” Curtis said, walking up beside of Boyd. More shots could be heard, with yelling. The group collectively felt a sudden need to get into town.

“Whatever
it is, we need to do something about it fucking
pronto.
” Captain White said, backpedaling to the rear of the LMTV. The buttstock of an M4 greeted him, hanging in the air in front of his face. Joe was holding the rifle out, a magazine already loaded. White looked up and made eye contact with Joe. He nodded silently. White grabbed the M4, checked the chamber and released the charging handle.

“White!
Here!” Joe hollered, and threw two more magazines towards him. White caught them and stuffed them into his pockets. He didn’t have an LBV, and Joe didn’t have time to go searching for one, he needed to get into town.

Rick
came running up to the back of the LMTV. “Dad! We need to get into town, now!”

Joe
scrambled down from the LMTV and stumbled a bit as hit feet hit the ground. “C’mon! Get in the trucks and get us to the main gate!”

Joe
rushed over to the passenger’s side of the LMTV, while Curtis jumped back in the driver’s seat. Rick jumped into the bed of the Dodge, and Kane followed. Captain White also opted to get into the bed of the truck, setting up to take shots from the top of the Ram if necessary, and from the increasing sounds of panic, it would be necessary.

Boyd
hastily got into the driver’s side of the Dodge and threw it into gear, spinning gravels and taking off. Curtis followed in the LMTV.

Within
sixty seconds, they were at the main gate for town. There were no guards standing at the gate, no sentries on the wall, no one could be seen. Both trucks came to an abrupt halt at the gate. Joe flung the door open on the LMTV and got out. The sporadic gunshots on the other side of the wall, with the growling guttural sounds, indicated the undead had somehow gotten into town.

“Goddamned
zombies never give you a break,” Joe said as he sprinted towards the wall. He didn’t bother banging out his usual Morse code on the door, opting to hammer away at the sheet metal that made up the section of wall where he stood. “Hey! Open up! What the hell is going on in there?”

“Fuck
it! Plow the damn gate down!” White hollered from the back of the truck.

Joe
spun around and held his hands up. “No! If we do that, we might as well ring the goddamn dinner bell ourselves!”

White
angrily pointed a finger as another set of desperate cries emanated from the other side of the wall. “The bell’s already been rung, Joe!”

Joe
fumbled with his radio, desperately trying to key the push-to-talk button. After temporarily calming himself, he finally pressed the button. “Cornbread! Jamie! Anybody copy?”

“Breach…zombies!
Heading for the jail!” Several gunshots snapped at the other end of the transmission, stretching the ability of the small radio to transmit. The gunfire was so loud, that Joe couldn’t make out who was at the other end. “Get in town, ASAP!”

Joe
stood motionless for a moment, the world gone into slow motion. He saw Captain White irately shoving his finger at the wall. Rick stood beside White, pleading something similar. Joe blinked slowly and judged the faces of his friends as he looked for some suggestion about what to do. Boyd was hunched up on the steering wheel, eager to move the truck forward. Curtis was sitting in a similar fashion, looking like a jungle cat ready to pounce, and gripping the steering wheel like the last water in the Sahara. Joe looked down, unsure how to continue, until it hit him like a ton of bricks. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to, a feeling of need and one of sudden and overwhelming urgency.

Feeling
someone missing him wasn’t one that he was familiar with. It had been nearly ten years since he’d had someone that he wanted to call his own. It had been such a long time since there had been someone in his life that genuinely missed him that he wasn’t familiar with the feeling anymore. He was used to being the hero, being the man who rushed headlong into a group of undead. He was accustomed to using rationale, not thinking with his heart, but his heart was one of the only reasons he wanted to smash down the wall. There was someone, however, on the other side of the wall in front of him that he needed, someone that he couldn’t live without.

Angel.

It was time for him to act, time for him to get rid of the notion that he wasn’t a leader. Rick was right, he could have quit the role whenever he wanted to, but it was part of him. It was a large part of why he’d managed to stay alive as long as he had. If he wanted to stay alive any longer, especially with anyone left to accompany him, then he needed to get inside the town.

“Curtis!
You’re with me! We’ll evac the chow hall!” He turned to the Dodge. “White! You, Boyd, and Rick start at the motel and work your way to the jail! Rally point at the jail as soon as you can!”

As
Joe trotted back to the LMTV, he could have sworn that he saw Captain White grin. He jumped into the passenger side of the LMTV and slammed the door shut. Curtis mashed the trucks pushbutton transmission into ‘Drive’ and revved the engine. More gunshots could be heard, even over the turbo diesel whine of the LMTV. Curtis released his foot from the brake, and the truck lurched forward. Joe braced himself on the dashboard. He lowered his head as the truck approached the wall of wood and sheet metal. Just before impact, he closed his eyes and prayed, and God only knows that he wasn’t the religious type.

Curtis
winced just before they hit. “Hold on to your ass!”

* * *

Kody didn’t like horses. He wasn’t fond of them when they were an enjoyable means of spending an afternoon in the country, and he wasn’t a big fan of them now that they were the primary mode of transportation. They were slow, stubborn, smelly, and randomly took a shit in the middle of the road. He was less than pleased that he had to ride the eight miles one all the way back to Tazewell from his humble abode in Thompson Valley on the back of one. It beat walking, but not by much.

Kody
rode with Larry on the back of his horse, Flex, and tried to occupy his mind. There wasn’t much to look at anymore, especially on the outskirts of town. It had been difficult to keep the ravenous kudzu from taking over the sides of the road when the Department of Transportation was still active, and nowadays, the fast-growing vine was out of control.

Balboa
rode Beefcake, keeping a few paces behind Larry and Kody. He could tell that Kody was uncomfortable, not only with the horse, but with Larry as well. He watched as Kody shifted in the saddle, vainly attempting to get comfortable.

“You
two make quite the cute couple riding on that thing,” Balboa said.

“Oh, kiss my ass. I don’t like riding this thing anymore than it likes carrying two people instead of one. This is why I stick to walking,” Kody replied.

“If
you’d like to walk the last mile or so back to town, I’m sure he’d be happy to oblige,” Larry quipped.

Several
gunshots rang out, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“They
keep shooting like that, and we’re gonna have a helluva mess to clean up once we get back. I wonder what’s caused all the fuss today? We’ve only had a few groups of zombies over the last few months. They’ve been thinning out some since then,” Balboa said.

More
shots, and the faint sound of yelling.

Larry
kicked the flanks of Flex, prompting the horse to move quicker. Kody grabbed on to him, barely hanging on as it quickened.

Balboa
snapped the reins, trying to keep up with Larry’s steed. A puzzled look crossed his face as he tried to catch up. “Hey! What the hell are we doing?”

A
steady staccato of gunfire erupted. Whatever was going on in town was causing one hell of a stir. Both men willed their respective horses to go faster. Balboa’s heart raced faster as more pops and cracks echoed through the small valley outside town.

“Shit!”
Balboa said, having a ‘light bulb’ moment. “We got a breach. Don’t we?”

Moments
later, a large crash sounded and rumbled the ground, causing the horses to startle.

“Shit!
Something just blew in town!” Balboa yelled, looking to the sky for the telltale smoke or fire of an explosion.