there were huge swaths of destroyed vehicles and shell-torn asphalt a few hundred meters forward of them. Several overturned or completely destroyed vehicles were off to the sides of the road, appearing to have tried to run the blockade and failed. Several of the vehicles and two large, green street signs had been peppered with what looked like buckshot from an enormous shotgun.
“Jesus, they used M1028’s on these poor bastards.”
The big Texan looked at Boone. “Wassat? A M28?”
“M1028. It’s a canister round fired from the tank. Anti-infantry. It couldn’t have been pretty.”
“Why would the army not let them out?” demanded Anna over the radio. She must have been watching through the monitors of LAV One.
“Standard containment protocol,” answered Boone. “The army was trying to contain the infection.” He climbed on the Abrams and rapped his fist on the hatch. “Anybody home? This is Lieutenant Commander Boone of the US Navy. We can help you.”
There was a screeching noise, and the hatch opened. A young man crossed his eyes as he looked into the business end of Boone’s sidearm. “You gonna shoot me?”
“Of course not.” Boone stuck his hand down to help the man out of the belly of the M1.
“I’m good,” the guy said and climbed out of the tank. There were mewling sounds behind him, inside the vehicle. The man had a white T shirt on, and it was covered in sweat and gore. “Thanks. I thought I was going to die in there. Jesus it was hot.”
“What’s your name?”
“Ben Griffith. I’m afraid you saved me only so I can die out here in the fresh air though.” He pulled his shirt up and there was a clear semi-circular tooth pattern on his side. The skin had been broken and he was bleeding from it. The wound wasn’t rank or oozing yet, indicating the man had been assaulted recently.
They climbed down from the beige beast and Ben began talking.
Ben’s story was the same as countless others. He didn’t flee the city when everyone else did, but got caught in his apartment too afraid to leave. He ran out of food and water and was attacked while scavenging. “Had to run, and this was the only way there weren’t any of the dead people. ‘Course that changed when I got to the cars here. Then there were plenty. The hatch on this tank was open, so we jumped in it and shut the lid just as those dead bastards were on our heels.”
Rick looked at the man, “We?”
“Yeah, I had Joe with me but he kept giving me away when I was trying to sneak around. He’s too little to understand when I tell him to be quiet.” He wiped his hand across his brow blinking in the sun, “I didn’t see the infected soldier inside the tank until he grabbed me and bit me. I got his knife from him and stuck it up under his chin, but by the time I was done, the other walkers were trying to get in there after me. There’s a pole inside the tank, I don’t know what it’s for, but it was great for pushing those dead ones off the lid. That was this morning. The only damn thing that works in this thing,” he jerked his thumb at the Abrams, “is the clock. And the radio, but I couldn’t figure out how to send, I could only hear.”
“Where’s the boy?” demanded Dallas.
Ben looked confused. “What boy?”
“Your kid, Joe.”
The man smiled, then gave a whistle. A small bark came from inside the tank. “Joe’s my puppy. I only got him two months ago, then the world ended.”
“I’m sorry, son, but ya know you’re infected right?”
“Yeah. I saw it all over the news for a week, then I saw it first-hand. Nobody gets better.” As if to punctuate his statement, he started a hacking cough, and spit up bloody sputum when he was finished. “Yup, fucked. I sure could use a gun for a minute if you don’t mind. At least one bullet anyway.”
“Kid’s got balls, Boone. What we gon’ do with ‘im?”
Boone looked angry and sad at the same time. “Are you sure you want to do this,
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