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Authors: Terry Stenzelbarton,Jordan Stenzelbarton

Hell Happened (33 page)

BOOK: Hell Happened
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Tia and Sade went back to the SUV to drop the trailer while Josh and Nick found a place on the piece of fallen roof they could attach a strap to. Tia backed the SUV up to where they were standing and Nick tied the strap to part of the metal structure and the other end to the hitch on the SUV.

Everyone stood way back as Tia pulled the truck slowly away from the building until the strap was taut.  She then gunned the Escalade’s big V-8. The structure moved some but not much. Both back tires on the truck began spinning and screeching
like
a teenager’s first car in a high school parking lot.

Tia took her foot off the accelerator and backed the SUV up about six feet. She asked Nick to double check the strap. He did. She smiled wickedly at him and he gave her a look like she’d gone just a little nuts. “Watch this,” she said to him and he hurried to where the other men were standing.

This time the SUV was in all-wheel drive and she got a six-foot running start. The strap pulled tight and 4,000 pounds of SUV powered by a 400 horse power motor grunted, hunkered down and pulled with everything it had.

The building’s wall, roof and door grudgingly gave up
it’s
will to the truck and broke free.

The SUV sprung forward with a 16-foot piece of wall and attached insulated roofing. The men cheered and clapped for the little woman for almost a full second before grabbing for their weapons. When the wall came free, a trio of zombies
came
racing out of the hole at them. Maybe it was their hunger that
made them brave the out of doors, or maybe the dark overcast. Whatever it was, the men were glad they were 20 feet from the wall Tia had just pulled down.

Tia saw the men raise their weapons. She was a very bright woman and knew in an instant why they were aiming in her direction. “Oh shit,” she said to no one and looked in the rear view mirror. The zombies had just cleared the hole she’d made and were coming straight at her and the men who were on her crew.

“Like hell, you sons of bitches,” she hollered and threw the Escalade into reverse. The little woman, whose feet barely reached the floor, pulled on the steering wheel and stomped the accelerator again.

The back window was shattered by the head of one of the zombies as she hit the two coming out first with the rear bumper. She felt the bodies being crushed beneath her truck, and shredded by four spinning tires as she gunned the SUV’s 400-horse
powerplant
.

She briefly recalled how it felt when she drove her old Durango too fast over speed bumps.

The Cadillac felt the same way driving over zombies.

The third had dodged out of the way, its body bouncing off her left rear quarter panel, smashing the lights and denting the steel.  The momentum and speed and the strap that was still attached caused the hitch to snap off as she backed over the wall she’d just pulled down.

The truck only stopped when it reached a load-bearing wall eight feet inside the building. The truck stalled and Tia, only slightly panicked, tried restarting the big truck. Nothing happened when she turned the key. “Oh shit again,” she said to herself. She saw the zombie, still outside the building, quickly coming at her. She started to scream and reached for the button that would roll up the windows on the truck. She’d given her shotgun to Nick to hold on to while she was pulling down the roof, so she ducked, giving the men time to start shooting.

It was just climbing aboard the hood to come at her through the windshield when parts of its head started coming off. She watched it turn to look toward her men and two more shots hit it. The damn thing was starting to jump toward where the men must have been when the top of its head came apart completely and it flopped to the ground.

Then she saw her men. They had been lying on the ground so their shots were going high above her as they shot the zombie. Waving at her now that the coast was clear, they were giving her the signal to pull out of the building. She tried to start the SUV again but it wouldn’t turn over. She realized the truck was still in reverse and slapped herself in the head. She moved the shifter into “Park” and the Escalade started with the turn of the key.

She pulled out of the structure, driving over all three zombie bodies.

Once she was 20 feet away from the building she got out of the truck. She ran to the men and hugged and kissed each one of them. Not one of them minded one little bit, even Josh, who was kissing Katie at night.

The four took their time making sure the building had no more zombies inside. They knew they’d been lucky. For some reason they all believed zombies wouldn’t be in a garage for motor homes.

From here on in, they were very careful, with Tia holding three flashlights while the three men had four guns out and ready. It took an hour, but Tia refused to let anyone do anything inside the building until she was sure it was safe. After watching their pretty little Army wife drive over three zombies after pulling down a building, they were inclined not to argue with her.

Once they were absolutely sure the place was clear, they patted themselves on the back. There were six brand new motor homes inside the building, undamaged and with keys in the ignition. The four outside that had been slightly damaged were forgotten.

It took 45 minutes to get the doors open for each of the motor homes. They had been after just one, but they were taking back four motor homes, all longer than 38 feet. Tia found a dolly and would tow the slightly-damaged Escalade on the back of her motor home.

Before they headed back to the shelter, she remembered Randy asking her if she’d look for batteries and she found a room filled with them. It was hot work, but they loaded 20 new motor home batteries into the back of the SUV.

All four motor homes needed fuel, but they’d seen dozens of wrecked semis between here and the shelter. They had siphoning hoses and an electric pump with them. She looked at her watch. It’d take a while, but they’d be home by 6:00 with four new homes.

~     
~
     
~

Montgomery was dead. Few buildings, from where they could see from the interstate, were left standing. Massive fires were burning in several areas and other parts of the city had been destroyed by the hurricane.

Jerry was somehow glad that people hadn’t been living in the city when the hurricane came through. Thousands would have died. More likely tens of thousands with the amount of destruction the people in the two trucks were seeing.

There would have been long-term suffering and so many slow deaths from disease and the inability of rescue crews to reach those trapped.

But when the hurricane came through, most everyone was dead already, their rotting corpses, if they were in the open or in one of the collapsed buildings, would have been washed away with the deluge, stacking up around drains and in rivers. The few still living were probably out of the city and as far away from the dead and decaying corpses as they could get. He didn’t care if the zombies had died.

They had to make two different detours off the highway because of major damage, but they finally had the capital in their rear view mirrors. Jerry wouldn’t be happy to have to drive back this way, but they would either tonight or in the morning.

The rest of the drive to Gulf Shores was no less depressing, with the destruction of the countryside easily visible. Jerry began to wonder if they’d even find a boat big enough to take into the gulf.

They made good time on the second half of the trip. They stopped to scavenge fuel from a stack of four semis that had been wrapped around the same bridge abutment. Neither the Ford nor the SWAT truck needed fuel, but both were topped off and every one took a personal rest break. Jerry had allowed for a 10-hour drive, but after looking at the map and the GPS, he figured they’d make it to the gulf in less than eight hours.

The final hundred miles were uneventful and when they passed the Jack Edwards Airport, they had just over four hours to find a boat. Tony suggested parking the SWAT truck on the beach. He would then put a larger antenna onto the truck to better able him to talk with Col.
Rustov
.

Jerry agreed and told them while they were setting up the antenna, he and his team would begin looking for a boat to take out. Jerry pulled over and let the SWAT truck pass. He’d let Eddie find the spot that would be best for Tony.

Jerry, Juan and Rusty began looking around the little city. It was as wrecked as everything else they’d seen in the past eight hours, even more so maybe because of the ocean swell and waves that had crashed through and flooded the little city. Juan voiced Jerry’s doubts about finding a boat because of what they were seeing.

They followed Eddie until he parked the SWAT truck in a vast empty parking lot. Tony told them over the CB that this is where they were going to set up and wished them luck in finding a boat.

Turning parallel to the beach and heading west on State Road 180. Jerry drove slowly, hoping there was a boat anchored somewhere close to shore that had weathered the storm that had destroyed cities between here and Birmingham. He hoped, but didn’t expect to get that fortunate.

They reached the end of the peninsula and stopped. They could see Dauphin Island but couldn’t reach it so turned around to look back the other way. Every house they passed was wrecked. Most were nothing but the foundation. Eventually they were back to the lot where Eddie had parked his truck.

His next try was closer to the beach. He took State Road 182 west and saw the same destruction he saw on 180. All the buildings on the beach side of the road were wiped off the face of the earth.

The other side of the highway wasn’t much better. He had to stop at the place where a bridge used to be. The bridge was gone completely, leaving nothing but the concrete abutments.

Jerry turned the truck around again and Juan saw a building that hadn’t been wiped to the ground. It was in from the beach and looked to be heavily damaged, but still part of it was standing. Two blocks from the beach Jerry pulled into the parking lot of what had been called Compass Point.

They got out and walked around the building. There were no usable boats on this side of the building that had survived the storm little better than most others. They could see how high the storm surge had reached from the telltale water marks on the building.

Jerry looked at his watch. They had two hours and a few minutes.

Rusty pulled out his binoculars. He was searching the lagoon’s beaches and was looking as hard as Jerry and Juan when he spotted a possibility. “There!” he hollered, pointing westward but on the other side of the lagoon.

Jerry took the binoculars and looked in the direction Rusty was pointing.

“Could be, Russ.
Juan, take a look.” The older Mexican looked through the binoculars too. “That might work. Let’s go look at it.”

“We have to hurry,” he said looking at his watch. It was five minutes to five which meant an hour and 50 minutes before splashdown. They ran to the Ford and Jerry quickly drove to the other end of the lagoon and circled back. They probably found the one boat that was still floating within 20 miles. It was a 50-foot catamaran. Not what Jerry was thinking for a boat to take out onto the gulf, but he would if it were sea worthy.

“The nose has some damage, but not real bad,” Juan said as he started looking it over. “It looks pretty new.”

Jerry said it looked like a sail boat, and they were looking for something with speed. Juan shook his head. “It was both. See where the main mast broke off,” he said pointing to where a six-inch in diameter pole had been on the boat. “Let me look inside.” He climbed aboard and went inside the ship. Jerry heard it rumble and start up and immediately shut off.

The catamaran was one of the newest models of high-end sailing boats. It was made of carbon fiber mostly, strong yet light-weight. Its cabin was centered between the two large pontoons on either side, and
was roomy enough for a small gathering. There were decks
for
and aft of the cabin for swimmers and storing smaller watercraft like jet skis. Aside from the sail and sheets that were no longer on the deck, there were two power plants, each nestled in the middle of each of the pontoons, which propelled the catamaran when there was no wind and supplied electrical power to the rest of the boat.

It really was a rich man’s toy.

Juan came out smiling. “She’s got fuel and she still runs. Now we have to get it back in the water.” The cat had been washed up on shore…25 feet from water. It took all three of them and the Ford to gently get the catamaran back into the water. Jerry looked at his watch. They had 40 minutes.

He got on the CB and called Tony. “What’s the latest?”

“The good colonel said the de-orbit burn appeared perfect. We are still expecting an 18:47 splashdown.”

“Can he tell how far from shore they’ll come down?”

“I asked him that and he didn’t know exactly because he can’t measure the upper atmospheric winds, but his educated guess is between five and 10 miles,” Tony told him.

“Okay. We’ll go with what we have. We have a boat. Juan and I will take it out seven miles, straight south.

“Can you move the SWAT truck to the end of this lagoon we’re on?” he asked.

“Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem if we go slowly. Give us 10 minutes. What do you have planned boss?” Tony asked him.

BOOK: Hell Happened
2.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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