Zombie Squad Read online

“Griffith,” he called behind him, “I need you to lay down cover fire the moment you see anything come around the corner. James, you come down behind me and help lay down cover for Griffith.”

  Both men nodded, waiting with their guns at the ready as Nick kicked down on the ladder’s metal release. It scaled down quickly, creating a noise that sounded like the entire fire escape was going to come crashing down on their heads. The final rung stopped two feet short of the street and the moment it was down, Nick slid his Sig into the waist of his pants and started climbing down.

  He went as quickly as he could, not even bothering to dangle down when he reached the last rung. He simply allowed himself the small drop to the street and hit a crouching position, bringing the shotgun around from his back and to his front right away.

  He heard two things at once then: the sound of James climbing onto the ladder, and the shuffling of footsteps from the corner ahead. He kept his eyes trained on the street, waiting for the first rambler to come. He then peered back to the other end of the block and saw two ramblers already headed his way. They were coming from around the other side of the building, as if they had known that Katherine’s distraction had only been a distraction.

  “Take a twelve o’ clock position when you get down,” he called out to James. “They’re already heading for us.”

  “Roger.”

  Nick kept his eyes trained ahead and saw the first rambler coming. It was no more than twelve feet away and felt much closer. It was immediately followed by another one. A third fell in behind them, a boy of no more than thirteen years of age. Nick had long since learned to push the former lives of the ramblers from his mind. He’d had to kill younger ones before and while it was never easy, his survivor instincts knew that it was necessary.

  Steeling himself and prepping his nerves for the attack to come, Nick took the youngster down first with a single shotgun blast above the neck. He then brought the barrel up slightly, took aim, and took down the other two with nearly identical blasts. The sound of the shotgun was monstrous and roared in his head like thunder. He loved it, though; it gave him a sense of absolute control. He’d always loved firing a shotgun and never felt more secure and empowered than when holding one.

  He could hear footsteps behind him, drawing closer. Then, from directly behind him, there was also the thud of James dropping from the ladder to the street.

  “Got you,” James said with a quick pat to his shoulder.

  James them took a shooter’s stance and dropped the two ramblers that were closing in behind Nick.

  Off in the distance, Nick could still hear the sound of Katherine’s engine. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he had stepped out onto the fire escape, but it felt like a very long time.

  As he waited for Griffith to get onto the street and for Katherine to arrive, another rambler came around the corner. It saw Nick and let out a scream of anticipation that sounded like a creaking door. Nick raised the shotgun and promptly put it out of its misery by removing the top portion of its head.

  It, Nick thought. But it’s a man. Or was a man. Looks to be forty or so. Probably married, with kids. Worried about retirement and his mortgage—

  His mind rarely went there, but when it did, it was terrible. It bought on a depression he had never felt in his life before the outbreak. He did everything he could to push it away and found that it was easier to do when he was in the company of other people. Just sensing James behind him, firing yet another shot at an approaching rambler, made him feel like he was an actual part of the living, breathing world again.

  “Coming down,” Griffith called from overhead.

  Nick stepped forward a few paces to allow Griffith room to join them. When he did, another rambler came around the corner. It was joined by three more from the opposite side of the street. A few more lingered behind them, slowly catching up.

  Nick took his shots slowly and precisely. He’d always been an expert marksman, especially with a shotgun, and this situation was nothing more than target practice. But he remembered how quickly the ramblers had grown in number as they had approached the building. While they moved slowly, their numbers grew quickly. It was easy to underestimate them.

  “How’s it look back there?” Nick asked James, not daring to take his eyes away from his perimeter.

  “Okay for now,” James said, pausing to take a shot. “But they’re on to us. They keep coming.”

  There was another gun blast closer to Nick as Griffith took his first shot. Nick chanced a glance in that direction, seeing that Griffith had taken down a rambler that had been advancing towards them through an alley to their left. Two others came in behind it, stepping over the fallen.

  Nick focused solely on the area ahead of him and saw two more, then three. He took them down with rapid, quick shots but by the time they were on the ground, there were five more, coming from two different directions. He slung his pack around and reloaded the shotgun with speed that was not quite what it used to be, but was still pretty damned impressive.

  If Katherine didn’t get here soon—as within a minute or so—they were going to be in some very bad trouble. Nick could still hear the engine between the gunshots and he thought it sounded closer. There were also some very clear thumps that were distant yet unmistakable…the sound of bodies being struck and then going under a vehicle.

  The three men stood in a perfect triangular position, taking out the ramblers as they appeared. As Nick reloaded, Griffith manned his position as well as his own. Reloading took Nick less than five seconds. When he started firing again, Griffith resumed his position. The whole process felt natural to Nick and he wondered if it was unnatural or maybe even morbid to have missed working like this.

  Nick took care of the last approaching rambler and then caught movement at the corner of the intersection half a block ahead. He saw one rambler coming, then two, then at least half a dozen. Behind that half a dozen, there were at least a dozen more.

  “Shit,” he breathed.

  He quickly glanced back towards James and saw that he was contending with a group of four that were advancing. Perhaps another ten were behind that group, several yard behind and closing in with their creeping gait.

  Nick turned back to the area in front of him and started firing, taking them out as quickly as he could. Griffith filled in when he could, handling the overflow that was coming from Nick and James. The gun blasts were loud, ringing in Nick’s ears, but it did nothing to slow him. He moved like a machine—turning to fire, his finger always pulling the trigger, stopping to reload, and then starting all over again.

  Still, they kept coming, and somehow, they were getting closer. The twelve feet that had separated them from Nick and his line of fire was now down to ten or so. The sense of ease and control that he had felt when he had first dropped from the ladder was gone. Now it was a race against the clock. They could stand here and shoot the ramblers as much as they wanted, but as the numbers grew, they would be overtaken.

  Already, there were four more ramblers approaching since the last time he took count—ramblers that had not been there with the previous surge. They were close enough to him that Nick could hear the wet impact as each of his shots tore through their heads. His finger was beginning to twitch reflexively with the mechanical nature of his attack.

  “Nick, it’s getting bad back here,” James said.

  Nick took a quick glance back and his panic started curdling into fear. There were easily twenty ramblers on the street, closing in. There were countless more behind them, coming with that same deliberate slowness.

  Before he had time to truly accept the fear that started fester inside, though, he heard the roar of an engine from very close by. He let that drive him and kept firing. He listened to the gunfire of the two men beside him, hoping it was enough.

  Then he saw the gleam of sunlight come around the curb two blocks further down. The reflected sunlight was from the windshield of a black truck that came barreling towards them with r
eckless speed. As Nick watched it draw close, two ramblers were run down by it, their bodies crumpling when the grill struck them and then shuddering as they were pulled beneath the sheer weight of it.

  “Shoot enough to get a little cushion,” Nick told James. “Then turn around and focus your fire ahead of us. Forget what’s back there and just make sure we can get to that truck.”

  James responded by opening fire in rapid bursts, the noise of his A4 like a drum beat. The sound of rambler bodies hitting the ground only amplified it. They were falling all around them, closing in slowly but now close enough to nearly reach out and touch the trio of armed men when they fell.

  “Oh, one thing,” James said with a grin. “I took a little gift from Katherine’s flower bed. I couldn’t resist.”

  Nick turned and saw James taking one of the hand grenades they had seen in Katherine’s arsenal. “Good with you?” James asked.

  “Launch it,” Nick said.

  James didn’t wait another second. He pulled the pin, cocked his arm back and lobbed it hard behind them. Nick watched it start to drop about thirty feet away. The result was an explosion that Nick felt in his feet. Gray smoke and a yellow and orange flash flared upwards. Nick took only a moment to watch several bodies get catapulted up and forward behind the surge of bodies closer to them.

  The noise seemed to distract the ramblers a bit, disorienting them.

  I’m good now,” James said, that maniacal smile once again on his face. “Let’s go.”

  “You good, Griffith?” Nick asked.

  “Yeah, let’s just get the hell out of here.”

  All three men turned and faced forward. They opened fire on the growing wall of ramblers as the black truck neared from the other side of the growing group.

  The truck was approaching slowly, having to drop down to a near-crawl as the crowd of ramblers thickened. Most of them didn’t understand what was happening until it was too late. Even at a slowed speed, the truck was striking them hard enough to knock them down and then crushing them under its weight. It was a wall of death with three armed men on one side and a heavy duty truck on the other. In between, there were the dead, the infected, the ramblers, the zombies, whatever the hell you wanted to call them.

  Griffith stepped forward and waved down Katherine. Nick could just barely see her through the windshield. Griffith made a gesture with his hands, pressing down on something imaginary with his palm.

  “Blow your horn!” he yelled.

  Katherine apparently heard this because she wasted no time. The truck’s horn filled the streets and the reaction was instant. A few of the ramblers stopped moving and started to howl in rage. A few others seemed undaunted and kept coming for Nick, James, and Griffith.

  Still, it made progress much easier. The truck kept coming forward through the sea of ramblers as the three men continued firing, taking down rambler after rambler. Some of them were so close that Nick could feel their blood splattering against his shirt and pants. Thoughts of possible infection stirred but died quickly. He knew the parasite was transferred via saliva or blood, but so long as the blood didn’t get into his body, he knew he’d be okay.

  The blaring of the horn and the repeated gunshots filled Nick’s head in a wretched chorus, a severe contrast to the absolute quiet they had experienced when they had first arrived in Houston. Still, he went on, doing what he could to ignore the fact that the ramblers were closing in behind them as they neared the truck. The grenade had knocked their numbers down a bit but had not really slowed those in front of the crowd.

  As the truck grew to within five feet of them, their strategic triangle of gunfire had become an every-man-for-himself shootout. All three of them were having to fend off ramblers at every movement. Nick felt one slap at his back before it was dispatched by Griffith. He also heard James yell out, a noise that was followed by the crunching sound of the stock of his rifle connecting with the head of a rambler.

  As they inched closer to the truck, Nick watched as the passenger door was thrown open. When Katherine stepped out with a pistol in her hand, it seemed surreal. He tried to recall the last time he had seen her and why she now seemed iconic. She seemed dreamlike, but in a way that made your dreams shatter into sharp pieces upon waking.

  Her black hair was greasy and tied back into a ponytail. Her face looked thinner than he remembered and her arms were nothing more than sticks. Apparently, the last two years had not treated her well aside from the fact of her survival.

  She started firing into the crowd, helping to clear the way to the passenger side door. Nick caught on right away and started helping her to plow a path to the passenger side of the truck. He slung the shotgun around to his back. It was too slow for the number of ramblers that were closing in on them. He drew the Sig from his waistband and started firing instantly.

  When he reached the truck, he saw that there was blood and bits of partially rotted body parts on the grill. He checked on James and Griffith, saw that they were holding their own, and then started firing again. James and Griffith were closing in but as they neared the truck, there were easily more than one hundred ramblers swarming in around them.

  Nick chose to help push James on first, covering his back as James crawled into the truck. Nick wheeled back out towards the crowd and fired a few more shots to help Griffith reach the safety of the truck as well. Griffith took advantage of this and bolted for the truck, slapping away a rambler’s arm as it reached out for him.

  It was this defensive gesture that cost him.

  The rambler caught his arm and pulled backwards.

  Griffith’s momentum stopped and then he fell as the rambler pulled him down. The rambler next to the commotion instantly saw what was happening. It hit the ground faster than Nick had ever seen a rambler move. It opened its fetid mouth, and bit down.

  Griffith’s ankle was between the rambler’s teeth. Blood flowed right away and Griffith screamed. He tried to raise his gun, but more ramblers were falling on him.

  Nick took careful aim and fired at the rambler that was feasting on Griffith’s leg. The shot blew out the back of the rambler’s head and Griffith jerked his leg away at once.

  Nick fired at another rambler that had seized Griffith’s arm, placing the shot perfectly between its eyes, causing its nose to shatter and sink inward. It toppled over instantly as a jettison of blood arched its progress.

  As Nick reached down to help Griffith up, he felt a rambler’s hand on his back, trying to pull him down. Nick threw a hard elbow back and when the rambler took a tottering step backwards, the right side of its head seemed to explode. When it fell, Nick saw James standing behind it, his gun raised.

  James then ran over to Nick and helped get Griffith to his feet. Meanwhile, Katherine hopped back into the truck, slamming her door. She kept one hand pressed down on the horn, slowing the tide of approaching ramblers.

  Nick and James got Griffith to the truck and practically pushed him in. Nick climbed in after him, having to take two shots out the door to keep ramblers from getting inside. He leaped inside, pressing Griffith into Katherine. Griffith was wailing in pain, cursing the rambler that had bitten him.

  “Kill him now,” Katherine yelled. “Or I will. He’ll turn in less than an hour.”

  “We have a vaccine back in our truck,” Nick said. “It’s about ten blocks away. Get us there and he’s saved.”

  “A vaccine?”

  He opened his mouth to confirm this but was interrupted by James firing his gun one last time as he got into the truck. A rambler at the hood of the truck fell backwards in an awkward dance, missing its head.

  “Lovely to see you again, Katherine,” James said. “I’d love to chat and all but for right now, how about you get us the fuck out of here?”

  Katherine gave them an uncertain glance before slamming the truck into drive. With no back cab, the four of them were pressed tightly together in the front seat. James was nearly crammed against the passenger side door, the sliding glass of the w
indow the only thing separating his face from the eager hands of the ramblers they passed.

  Katherine barreled forward a few feet with her hand still on the horn, knocking down half a dozen ramblers. She then kicked the truck into reverse and cut a hard U-turn, heading back the way she had come. Ramblers struck the vehicle frantically, some seeking purchase or a way in while others were taken down under the wheels. The truck shuddered with the violence as it sucked the bodies under and spit them out the back in a mess of blood and broken bones.

  Beside Katherine, Griffith was moaning and shaking uncontrollably.

  “There’s a vaccine?” she asked as she finally wound by the last of the gathered ramblers. She rocketed the truck forward, jetting past the spot where James’s grenade had exploded less than five minutes ago.

  “Yes, we think so,” Nick said.

  “From where?”

  “Long story,” Nick said. “But I’ll tell it to you because it’s sort of why I came looking for you. But one thing at a time. I need you to get us to Exit 98. Our truck is parked there and the vaccine is inside.”

  “And it’s a hell of a lot more spacious than this,” James said from his tight little place against the passenger side door.

  “I thought I was done with you guys,” Katherine said. She was only half-joking; there was legitimate contempt there as well.

  “I thought I was done with a lot of things,” Nick said. “You learn to deal with it pretty quickly.”

  Katherine said nothing to this. Instead, she focused on the streets, taking a series of lefts and rights until the ramblers were behind them and there was only open pavement ahead.

  18

  When Katherine brought the truck to a shuddering stop less than five minutes later, Griffith’s moans were evolving into screams.

  “It burns,” he said through clenched teeth. “I can feel it…spreading…it feels like it’s on fire…”

  “We’re at the truck now,” Nick told him. “Hold on just another minute.”

  Griffith responded with a brief nod and a series of screams. Nick and James piled out of the passenger side while Katherine joined them reluctantly. They all looked back down the street in the direction they had come from. For now, there were no signs of the ramblers although they could hear the sound of hundreds of shuffling feet and moaning cries drawing near.