the other four down the right side of the street, hugging the building. At least if they ran into trouble, they could only be engaged from across the street.
When he reached the bus, he saw that the bus was not intended to be a roadblock. There were three or four feet between the bumper and the wall. This bus was simply put in place to act as a bridge. Smart.
He slipped around the bus. He was astonished by what he saw. Someone had made a giant circle of cars. There must have been ten of them in a giant circle, bumpers touching. Two of the cars had makeshift ramps leading over their hoods and into the circle. With no ramps on the inside, it was obvious the circle was meant to contain the dead while allowing the living to move relatively freely.
Jen gasped. The circle was tightly packed with undead. Most of them were still moving. They hadn’t seen the group, but it would only be a matter of time. The four stood there, astonished.
“They’re not gonna hurt you!” said a loud male voice from across the street. Startled, the group immediately ducked for cover, weapons at the ready. “Now, you don’t want to do that,” the voice told them, more serious this time. SSgt Brown couldn’t see the man.
“We don’t want any trouble,” SSgt Brown called out.
“We don’t either,” the man responded. “Just come on out and safe those weapons.” SSgt Brown thought about it for a minute. They were already in the trap. If these guys wanted to kill them, they were dead already. He thought about Jackson and Kerry. Maybe they don’t know about them.
“Alright,” he shouted. “Comin’ out!” He stood and walked from behind the bus, rifle pointed at the ground. The other three also complied.
A large bald man, SSgt Brown thought he looked to be mid-forties, stood. He was wearing the blue camouflage of the US Navy. He slung his M-16 over his shoulder as he stood. His smile put the group at ease. “The name’s Roy,” he announced. “Who might you be?”
SSgt Brown identified himself and introduced the other three. He made sure to add his rank and unit affiliation. He thought it might give him some authority.
“Staff Sergeant huh,” Roy asked said. “I guess that means you outrank me. I’m only a Petty Officer Third Class. That’s an E-5 for you army guys.” He turned to an unseen person on the roof for a moment. “So what rank is your friend back there? Or did he steal the uniform from someone?” He pointed towards Jackson and Kerry.
He swore to himself. “That’s Private Jackson. He’s one of mine. The other is Kerry.”
“Well, why don’t you have Ms. Kerry and Mr. Jackson join the party. We don’t want them to be left out.”
“Jackson,” the NCO barked. “You and Kerry are good to come up.” SSgt Brown noticed that the zombies in the middle of the cars had begun moaning loudly at them. He also noticed that there were several zombies that had wandered off of a side street and were shambling towards them. “Would you mind if we continued our conversation off the street? It’s starting to get a little crowded down here.”
Roy met them at the top of the ladder. He was taller than SSgt Brown, and had a thick mustache. SSgt Brown couldn’t help but ponder the difference between Army and Navy grooming standards. He unconsciously rubbed his own face. The five day old stubble made him chuckle at his last thought.
He held a hand out to the sailor. “Dave Brown,” he began. “Thanks for inviting us in.”
“Roy Benton,” the other man replied. “Of course you are welcome.”
SSgt Brown could see something in the other man’s eyes. Was it suspicion or anger? Whatever it was, the man was not as pleased to see interlopers on his land as he led them to believe. He couldn’t blame the man.
He glanced around the rooftop. There were seven other men with civilian hunting rifles
When he reached the bus, he saw that the bus was not intended to be a roadblock. There were three or four feet between the bumper and the wall. This bus was simply put in place to act as a bridge. Smart.
He slipped around the bus. He was astonished by what he saw. Someone had made a giant circle of cars. There must have been ten of them in a giant circle, bumpers touching. Two of the cars had makeshift ramps leading over their hoods and into the circle. With no ramps on the inside, it was obvious the circle was meant to contain the dead while allowing the living to move relatively freely.
Jen gasped. The circle was tightly packed with undead. Most of them were still moving. They hadn’t seen the group, but it would only be a matter of time. The four stood there, astonished.
“They’re not gonna hurt you!” said a loud male voice from across the street. Startled, the group immediately ducked for cover, weapons at the ready. “Now, you don’t want to do that,” the voice told them, more serious this time. SSgt Brown couldn’t see the man.
“We don’t want any trouble,” SSgt Brown called out.
“We don’t either,” the man responded. “Just come on out and safe those weapons.” SSgt Brown thought about it for a minute. They were already in the trap. If these guys wanted to kill them, they were dead already. He thought about Jackson and Kerry. Maybe they don’t know about them.
“Alright,” he shouted. “Comin’ out!” He stood and walked from behind the bus, rifle pointed at the ground. The other three also complied.
A large bald man, SSgt Brown thought he looked to be mid-forties, stood. He was wearing the blue camouflage of the US Navy. He slung his M-16 over his shoulder as he stood. His smile put the group at ease. “The name’s Roy,” he announced. “Who might you be?”
SSgt Brown identified himself and introduced the other three. He made sure to add his rank and unit affiliation. He thought it might give him some authority.
“Staff Sergeant huh,” Roy asked said. “I guess that means you outrank me. I’m only a Petty Officer Third Class. That’s an E-5 for you army guys.” He turned to an unseen person on the roof for a moment. “So what rank is your friend back there? Or did he steal the uniform from someone?” He pointed towards Jackson and Kerry.
He swore to himself. “That’s Private Jackson. He’s one of mine. The other is Kerry.”
“Well, why don’t you have Ms. Kerry and Mr. Jackson join the party. We don’t want them to be left out.”
“Jackson,” the NCO barked. “You and Kerry are good to come up.” SSgt Brown noticed that the zombies in the middle of the cars had begun moaning loudly at them. He also noticed that there were several zombies that had wandered off of a side street and were shambling towards them. “Would you mind if we continued our conversation off the street? It’s starting to get a little crowded down here.”
Roy met them at the top of the ladder. He was taller than SSgt Brown, and had a thick mustache. SSgt Brown couldn’t help but ponder the difference between Army and Navy grooming standards. He unconsciously rubbed his own face. The five day old stubble made him chuckle at his last thought.
He held a hand out to the sailor. “Dave Brown,” he began. “Thanks for inviting us in.”
“Roy Benton,” the other man replied. “Of course you are welcome.”
SSgt Brown could see something in the other man’s eyes. Was it suspicion or anger? Whatever it was, the man was not as pleased to see interlopers on his land as he led them to believe. He couldn’t blame the man.
He glanced around the rooftop. There were seven other men with civilian hunting rifles
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