ZOMBIES: "Chronicles of the Dead": A Zombie Novel by Will Lemen Page B
Authors: Will Lemen
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Gin replied, "All right, I'll do it, give me the keys."
"Okay then, here's the keys, let's do this thing," I said, as I handed Gin the keys to the van.
Jacob turned and began to walk into the house.
"We'll wait two minutes after we here your first shot," I said. "Give us a minute or two, and then listen for your name, when you hear it, get back here as fast as you can. And watch your back. Get me?" I barked.
"I get you dad," Jacob barked back.
We barely heard the glass breaking as Jacob thrust the butt stock of his rifle through the front window. But we heard very clearly the repeated blasts of that same rifle, as he began to eliminate the threats in front of our house.
"One minute," I said as I looked up from my watch.
Now Gin's adrenalin was starting to course through her veins as she screamed, "I counted seventeen shots!"
Worried that the zombies would hear her yelling, and might not follow the sound of Jacob's gunfire, I whispered back.
"Not so loud, he's trying to draw them off."
"Seventeen shots, how many bullets does that gun hold?" Gin asked, whispering this time.
"It uses Glock magazines, and the one in his gun is for the Glock eighteen, and it holds thirty-three rounds fully loaded."
Looking very concerned Gin asked. "Was his fully loaded?"
"Billy told me earlier that all the magazines were fully loaded, right Billy?"
"Right dad, all of them are, or at least they were before he started shooting."
"Anyway, knowing Jacob and his attention to detail, my answer would have to be yes even if Billy didn't concur," I told her.
I really hoped that I was right, and that Jacob had loaded his magazines to their full capacity.
I looked down at my watch and checked the time again.
"A few more seconds and we go!"
Billy put his hand on the garage door handle, and quietly spoke.
"He's still shooting; he's not out of ammo yet."
With a solemn look on my face, I started a slow countdown leaving three or four seconds between each number.
"Three..., two..., one..., open it!"
Billy again quickly raised the garage door.
Outside we saw dozen's of zombies, many of them were on the ground in pools of their own blood, with chunks of their brain's oozing out of their skulls.
Our plan was working. Some of the undead had bullet holes in their neck or their chest from some of Jacob's near misses, but were still walking, they were staggering a little more than normal, or should I say abnormal, but all of the zombies that were still able to move, were moving in the direction of the front window of our house.
Others were converging on our front yard, from across the street; again, all in the direction of the window from which Jacob was sniping.
"It's working," Billy said, lowering his pistol and moving toward the trailer.
Gin didn't have to be told, she sprinted to the driver's door of the van and jumped inside, and before we knew it, the engine was started and she was backing the van toward the trailer.
"A little more, more, stop," I shouted, as the hitch ball was now lined up with the trailer. The trailer was slightly high, so I began to turn the crank to lower the tongue coupler onto the hitch ball. The weight of the trailer pushed down on the back of the van as I lowered it into position.
"There, it's hooked," I said, slapping down the locking latch and quickly cranking the trailer's gear jack wheel up and out of the way.
Rising up, I said to Billy.
"Call Jacob back here now!"
Then we all realized that we weren't hearing anymore gunfire coming from the front window.
As fast as I could, I holstered my Glock pistol and I grabbed one of the AK-47's out of the boat with one hand and a seventy-five round drum magazine with the other, and as I ran back into the house, I yelled. "Something's wrong, get in the van, I'll be right back."
Entering the house I saw that the tarp that we had put up to cover the back entrance of the house had been pulled down, and was lying several feet from the kitchen, in the middle of the
"Okay then, here's the keys, let's do this thing," I said, as I handed Gin the keys to the van.
Jacob turned and began to walk into the house.
"We'll wait two minutes after we here your first shot," I said. "Give us a minute or two, and then listen for your name, when you hear it, get back here as fast as you can. And watch your back. Get me?" I barked.
"I get you dad," Jacob barked back.
We barely heard the glass breaking as Jacob thrust the butt stock of his rifle through the front window. But we heard very clearly the repeated blasts of that same rifle, as he began to eliminate the threats in front of our house.
"One minute," I said as I looked up from my watch.
Now Gin's adrenalin was starting to course through her veins as she screamed, "I counted seventeen shots!"
Worried that the zombies would hear her yelling, and might not follow the sound of Jacob's gunfire, I whispered back.
"Not so loud, he's trying to draw them off."
"Seventeen shots, how many bullets does that gun hold?" Gin asked, whispering this time.
"It uses Glock magazines, and the one in his gun is for the Glock eighteen, and it holds thirty-three rounds fully loaded."
Looking very concerned Gin asked. "Was his fully loaded?"
"Billy told me earlier that all the magazines were fully loaded, right Billy?"
"Right dad, all of them are, or at least they were before he started shooting."
"Anyway, knowing Jacob and his attention to detail, my answer would have to be yes even if Billy didn't concur," I told her.
I really hoped that I was right, and that Jacob had loaded his magazines to their full capacity.
I looked down at my watch and checked the time again.
"A few more seconds and we go!"
Billy put his hand on the garage door handle, and quietly spoke.
"He's still shooting; he's not out of ammo yet."
With a solemn look on my face, I started a slow countdown leaving three or four seconds between each number.
"Three..., two..., one..., open it!"
Billy again quickly raised the garage door.
Outside we saw dozen's of zombies, many of them were on the ground in pools of their own blood, with chunks of their brain's oozing out of their skulls.
Our plan was working. Some of the undead had bullet holes in their neck or their chest from some of Jacob's near misses, but were still walking, they were staggering a little more than normal, or should I say abnormal, but all of the zombies that were still able to move, were moving in the direction of the front window of our house.
Others were converging on our front yard, from across the street; again, all in the direction of the window from which Jacob was sniping.
"It's working," Billy said, lowering his pistol and moving toward the trailer.
Gin didn't have to be told, she sprinted to the driver's door of the van and jumped inside, and before we knew it, the engine was started and she was backing the van toward the trailer.
"A little more, more, stop," I shouted, as the hitch ball was now lined up with the trailer. The trailer was slightly high, so I began to turn the crank to lower the tongue coupler onto the hitch ball. The weight of the trailer pushed down on the back of the van as I lowered it into position.
"There, it's hooked," I said, slapping down the locking latch and quickly cranking the trailer's gear jack wheel up and out of the way.
Rising up, I said to Billy.
"Call Jacob back here now!"
Then we all realized that we weren't hearing anymore gunfire coming from the front window.
As fast as I could, I holstered my Glock pistol and I grabbed one of the AK-47's out of the boat with one hand and a seventy-five round drum magazine with the other, and as I ran back into the house, I yelled. "Something's wrong, get in the van, I'll be right back."
Entering the house I saw that the tarp that we had put up to cover the back entrance of the house had been pulled down, and was lying several feet from the kitchen, in the middle of the
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