roads like the bones from a slaughter house had been jettisoned from an airplane.
My wrist watch showed almost eleven when our convoy closed in on the Masters’ farm. We parked a quarter mile from the lane leading to the compound and formed two groups. Kira was with me as were Glen and Allen. Mitch, Junior, and Vince, rounded out my crew. Our group went past the lane and found a hedge tree row that would take us near the north side of Tim's compound. We had two large dogs with us, and Ed's crew had two. Our male lab was black and the lean female was tan. I looked to the west; dark clouds formed and were moving in fast. Still, fall air had been replaced with a cool light breeze.
The three houses, a barn and sheds loomed in the distance through low hanging hedge branches. Dense weeds three to five feet high formed a barrier outside the hedge canopy that created an alleyway for us to walk under if the tallest stooped slightly.
We were almost beside the three houses when shots rang out. No movement had been seen until then. But afterward, four zombies appeared; I recognized all of them. Vera, Willie, Jake, and Zeb all crouched between the two north houses and stared wild-eyed. All were in clear sight. The seven of us lined up and fired in the space of two seconds. Vera and Jake jerked their heads toward us at the first gunshots. They attempted to flee, but hot lead hit its targets. All four of our undead ex-friends crumpled to the ground. It always felt strange to shoot zombies we'd previously known and interacted with as human friends. It was a new way of life we'd had to adapt to.
More shots rang out in the distance. Ed's group had more targets.
I called Ed on the radio. "We got four. How are you faring?"
"Seven. Yours makes eleven, and that leaves four to find. Out"
We split into two smaller groups. "Be careful, remember the training we did for searching buildings. Keep you wits about you and don't get careless. These are zombies, not your friends or relatives."
Kira, Mitch, and I crept past the houses toward the sheds and the barn. The other four were behind us and soon split away. The hedge row continued past the houses but ended fifty feet away at a road from the barn. We were focused on the red metal barn a hundred yards off. The dogs stiffened and snarled a low warning. The danger was near, but where? The dogs were focused on the brush to our left. In a blazing flurry, Mable Jones popped up from the weed patch no more than twelve feet from us and charged. Her speed and strength plowed through the growth like a tank thru upright paper straws. She lunged straight toward me; I dodged to the side as I twisted my body toward her. The three of us swung our rifles and fired from the hip. At least fourteen bullets hit Mable, starting at her stomach and walking up her torso to her chest, neck and head. Her momentum carried Mable between me and Kira. Fingers on her left hand snagged my jacket and spun me around until they lost their purchase. Mable foundered and collapsed in the weeds. The dogs were on her before her carcass smacked the ground.
Into the radio, I announced, "Number twelve down."
Ed came back. "Thirteen down here."
Aloud I said, "There are two left, stay alert. Mable came way too close for comfort. Kira, eyes left. Mitch, watch the right and behind us. We're going straight ahead to the big open doors on the barn. Watch for our human friends and don't confuse them with zombies." Our other team split and crept to the left.
We jogged steadily across the open stretch to the barn and stopped three feet from the yawning ten-foot wide opening. The sky was as dark as dusk and the wind blew leaves and debris across the barn lot. Dust picked up from the bare ground billowed in the breeze and formed miniature dust devils. I smelled rain in the air as I breathed deeply.
Muted natural light lit the interior ten feet into the cavernous opening. Past the lighted area, shadows deepened to pure darkness. It looked like a
My wrist watch showed almost eleven when our convoy closed in on the Masters’ farm. We parked a quarter mile from the lane leading to the compound and formed two groups. Kira was with me as were Glen and Allen. Mitch, Junior, and Vince, rounded out my crew. Our group went past the lane and found a hedge tree row that would take us near the north side of Tim's compound. We had two large dogs with us, and Ed's crew had two. Our male lab was black and the lean female was tan. I looked to the west; dark clouds formed and were moving in fast. Still, fall air had been replaced with a cool light breeze.
The three houses, a barn and sheds loomed in the distance through low hanging hedge branches. Dense weeds three to five feet high formed a barrier outside the hedge canopy that created an alleyway for us to walk under if the tallest stooped slightly.
We were almost beside the three houses when shots rang out. No movement had been seen until then. But afterward, four zombies appeared; I recognized all of them. Vera, Willie, Jake, and Zeb all crouched between the two north houses and stared wild-eyed. All were in clear sight. The seven of us lined up and fired in the space of two seconds. Vera and Jake jerked their heads toward us at the first gunshots. They attempted to flee, but hot lead hit its targets. All four of our undead ex-friends crumpled to the ground. It always felt strange to shoot zombies we'd previously known and interacted with as human friends. It was a new way of life we'd had to adapt to.
More shots rang out in the distance. Ed's group had more targets.
I called Ed on the radio. "We got four. How are you faring?"
"Seven. Yours makes eleven, and that leaves four to find. Out"
We split into two smaller groups. "Be careful, remember the training we did for searching buildings. Keep you wits about you and don't get careless. These are zombies, not your friends or relatives."
Kira, Mitch, and I crept past the houses toward the sheds and the barn. The other four were behind us and soon split away. The hedge row continued past the houses but ended fifty feet away at a road from the barn. We were focused on the red metal barn a hundred yards off. The dogs stiffened and snarled a low warning. The danger was near, but where? The dogs were focused on the brush to our left. In a blazing flurry, Mable Jones popped up from the weed patch no more than twelve feet from us and charged. Her speed and strength plowed through the growth like a tank thru upright paper straws. She lunged straight toward me; I dodged to the side as I twisted my body toward her. The three of us swung our rifles and fired from the hip. At least fourteen bullets hit Mable, starting at her stomach and walking up her torso to her chest, neck and head. Her momentum carried Mable between me and Kira. Fingers on her left hand snagged my jacket and spun me around until they lost their purchase. Mable foundered and collapsed in the weeds. The dogs were on her before her carcass smacked the ground.
Into the radio, I announced, "Number twelve down."
Ed came back. "Thirteen down here."
Aloud I said, "There are two left, stay alert. Mable came way too close for comfort. Kira, eyes left. Mitch, watch the right and behind us. We're going straight ahead to the big open doors on the barn. Watch for our human friends and don't confuse them with zombies." Our other team split and crept to the left.
We jogged steadily across the open stretch to the barn and stopped three feet from the yawning ten-foot wide opening. The sky was as dark as dusk and the wind blew leaves and debris across the barn lot. Dust picked up from the bare ground billowed in the breeze and formed miniature dust devils. I smelled rain in the air as I breathed deeply.
Muted natural light lit the interior ten feet into the cavernous opening. Past the lighted area, shadows deepened to pure darkness. It looked like a
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