Night of the Nazi Zombies (16 page)

* * *

Smith and his group could now make out the German base in the distance.
 
He was surprised that it was so close; surely being so near they would have responded to the battle taking place at the church.
 
The total distance could have been no more than half a mile to the north west of the church.
 
The three men were lying down low in a ditch running along the side of the narrow road.
 
Out into the distance, about another hundred yards ahead, was a low ridge behind which was the small German base.
 
There was what looked like a pillbox at the entrance and then a metal fence running around the perimeter.
 
From their position they couldn’t get a good view inside, other than the tops of a number of trucks and a few temporary buildings, presumably barracks or storage facilities.
 
There were several floodlights, one at each corner though none of them were operational.

Sergeant Smith dropped back down into the ditch.

“Right, we need to get closer.
 
I’ve got a feeling this base is deserted.
 
There’s no sign of activity but we need to keep on the ball.
 
Gardner, I want you to stay here and watch for any activity.
 
You will provide overwatch.
 
Lewis, you’re with me.”
 
Smith lifted his head up, double-checking the German base for anything new.
 
It all looked the same; he turned back to Lewis and whispered, “Come on.”

Keeping low the two men crept along the ditch running parallel to the narrow road.
 
Gardner lifted his Enfield rifle to his shoulder, scanning the area over its iron sights.
 
Smith reached the ditch that was close to the pill box, it guarded the entrance to the base but from their position it appeared deserted.
 
Giving the signal to Lewis to cover him he jumped up and took cover alongside its outer wall.
 
With his Sten held up to his shoulder he moved around the perimeter until reaching the corner.
 

Gardner could just make out Smith’s outline from his position, he checked the immediate area around him but there was still no sign of the enemy.
 
This was going a little too well and he didn’t like it.

From Smith’s position he could see the doorway of the pillbox and also inside the base.
 
So far there was still no sign of movement.
 
Perhaps the base had been abandoned, if true though then where were the soldiers now?
 
He had a moment of dread as he considered the possibility that the base had emptied to attack the other British forces that should already be at the Orne River Bridge.
 
If that were true the base would still be guarded though.
 
He stayed alert and crept up to the entrance, still no sign of movement.
 
He rushed inside, ready for whatever lay in store, only to find the small fortification deserted.
 
In the corner was a small table and a few chairs, whilst stacked next to the table were a number of weapons and two boxes of ammunition.
 
The equipment was hardly state of the art.
 

He moved closer and examined the weapons.
 
The first couple were Steyr-Mannlicher M1895 rifles, an early bolt-action weapon adopted and employed by the Austro-Hungarian army throughout World War I.
 
It was a solid, reliable weapon but hardly standard military issue in 1944.
 
Next to these was a Model 1888 Commission Rifle, another late 19th century German bolt-action rifle.
 
Looking behind the rifles he spotted a couple of MP38 submachine guns, he allowed himself a smile and reach for one.
 
He spoke quietly, “Tasty!” as he slung one of the weapons over his shoulder.
 
It was much the same as his Sten, but featured a vertical stick magazine and a somewhat more luxurious finish compared to his rustic but useful Sten.

Leaving the weapons he moved to the crates and examined the top one that already had its lid cracked open.
 
Inside were bottles of wine.
 
Smith looked confused as he slid the box to the side and checked the next one, it contained tools and various knives and blades.
 
None of this made sense.
 
He walked to the small radio room that was attached to the side of the building.
 
There was a mains powered radio set and several books nearby.
 
He pocketed the books and tried switching on the radio.
 
Nothing happened, there must be no power.

Based on the weapons and the fact the inhabitants had simply abandoned equipment and books, this base must be the home of a reserve unit.
 
Alternatively the German Army was far worse equipped and motivated than intelligence had led them to believe.
 
This surely couldn’t be a frontline infantry base; if an army base wasn’t primarily for combat units and there were no vehicles being worked on, what on earth could this place is for?
 
Presumably it was a storage depot of some kind.

Whilst he contemplated this problem he spotted a map on the wall, he moved closer to examine it.
 
He immediately recognised the layout of the village as the location where his fellow soldiers were currently holed up.
 
Around the village were half a dozen more inhabited areas.
 
The road to the Orne River Bridge disappeared off to the north of the map but it wasn’t this that caught Smith’s eye, more the red areas.
 
Dotted around the map were four red circles with a symbol in the middle of each.
 
The base was also on the map and was marked with a symbol that looked like an inverted S, or perhaps a Z.
 
Smith stepped back to get a look at the whole map.
 
There were roads leading to the four red areas from this base and joining them altogether was a dotted green line.
 
What was so special about these five places?
 
Smith ripped the map from the wall and stuffed it into his pocket.
 
He definitely needed more intelligence, something weird was going on in this area and he needed more information.
 
He popped his head out of the pillbox, the coast was clear.
 
He stepped out and around the corner so that he could signal to Lewis to follow him.
 

Smith whispered, “I don’t think this is a normal base, we need to get as much information as we can, something strange is going on here.”

He signalled with his hand and the two moved past the pillbox and up to the gate that marked the perimeter of the base.
 
Each man took up positions either side of the gate, checking one last time before they moved inside.
 

* * *

Jones had now entered three of the houses and so far had managed to find seven terrified locals.
 
Adrienne had been invaluable in calming them down and also getting around the language barrier.
 
He had sent the survivors back with Clarke to be checked for injuries and more importantly, bites from the creatures.
 
Apparently Captain Scott also wanted to debrief them as much as possible; it seemed this creature situation was much more serious than they had thought.
 
For now though, Jones had one last house to visit and this one in particular worried him.
 
Unlike the previous houses this one had its front door slightly ajar.
 
Did this mean somebody had forced their way in or that the previous inhabitants had abandoned it in haste?
 
Either way Jones was being extra careful with this one.
 
Moving up to the door he pointed his Sten at the doorway and booted the door open.
 
Nothing happened and the door irritatingly swung back and shut on him.
 
He turned to Wilks with a sheepish expression on his face.

“Oops!” he called.

Putting his hand on the door he pushed it open again and started moving through the doorway.
 
With a series of shrieks and groans two of the dead creatures forced their way out and directly into the path of Jones who still had his hand on the door.
 
Without hesitating he fired a long burst from his Sten into the two things.
 
The impact from the submachine gun blasted chunks from the torsos of the creatures and threw them both back into the house.
 
Wilks lifted his Sten to his shoulder and joined in, hitting them both with a short burst before running over to Jones.

The two men stood at the doorway trying to decide whether to go further or to abandon the house and return to the church.
 
Though the village had been quiet since they’d destroyed the creatures, there had been a weird silence about the place.
 
After shooting the two creatures something had changed and Jones couldn’t put a finger on it.
 
His training kicked in and he stepped a few feet from the house and scanned the area, holding up his Sten gun in case of attack.
 
Wilks looked across the street and out into the fields, his eyes darted across as he though he saw movement.

“Did you hear that?” asked Wilks.

Jones cocked his head slightly, and then he heard it.
 
The sound was the same as the groan and shrieking sound they had heard from their attackers in the previous hours.
 

“Oh...shit!” called out Jones.

Wilks stepped away from the house, about to start running back to the church.
 
Jones stopped him, putting his hand on his arm.

“Not yet, we need to clear this place before we leave.
 
What if those things were trying to get to somebody inside?”

The two men returned to the house, both entering quickly but with their weapons lowered and ready for action.
 
Apart from the gore all over the porch from the two dead creatures there were no signs of anything else.
 
Jones kicked open the doors but they still found nothing of note.
 
All that remained were the stairs and the two rooms at the top.
 
Stepping behind each other they moved up until they could see the first door.
 
Wilks pointed his weapon at the door and Jones kicked it open.
 
Like the rest of the house it was deserted.
 
There was just the last room left and this one was dark and locked.
 
Jones tried to open it but it refused to budge.
 
Jones lifted his boot and smashed it into the thin wood, splintering it and yet it still wouldn’t open.
 
Wilks joined in by smashing his Sten’s wooden stock hard into the wood.
 
More of the material splintered and broke leaving a hole big enough to squeeze a man’s head inside.
 
The two soldiers looked at each other, neither prepared to do the stupid thing and expose his head.
 
Jones crept up to the recently smashed hole and looked from one side to the other.
 
From what he could see there were large pieces of furniture stacked up against the door.

Wilks spoke quietly, “Who blocked the door?
 
There’s no way out of that room, not even a window.”

It was then that Jones spotted him, the dark shape hiding in the corner.
 
Jones jumped back a little, surprised by the shape.

“Did you see that?
 
There’s a guy in there,” he said almost hysterically.

Wilks had a look and then stepped back.

“Do you reckon its one of those things or a local?”

Jones looked around the landing at the top of the stairs whilst Wilks stood there worried.

“What are you thinking Sarge?”

Jones stopped, put his finger in the air as if he had an idea and then walked up to the door and shouted inside, “Oy, mate!”

The shape moved a little, and then staggered closer to the door.
 
The two soldiers stepped back, pointing their weapons directly at its face.
 
The last thing they expected was for it to speak, even more unexpected was that it wore a German uniform!

“Wer sind Sie?” said the man to the bewilderment of the British soldiers.

They had no idea what he meant and said nothing.
 
The German continued.

“Ich bin ein Soldat aus dem Ost-Bataillon.”

Jones answered with a sharp reply, “You speak any English mate?”

The man disappeared and was soon followed by a lot of noise as he moved the heavy furniture away from the door.
 
With a click the broken door opened and the German stepped out to meet them.
 
He held out his hand and Jones, after a moment of hesitation, took the hand and shook it.

The man spoke, “Mein Name ist Wilhelm Kohl.”

Jones nodded, even he could understand what the man was saying, he introduced himself, “Sergeant Jones, British 6th Airborne.”

The German nodded and indicated to the stairs.
 
Jones took this to mean he was ready to leave.
 
The three men headed down the staircase and out into the street.

* * *

Smith had now entered the base and had a good idea of the layout.
 
There was one way in and that was the way they had come.
 
What was strange was that there were many blood trails, some from the containers and others from where there had presumably been trucks.
 
The ground in the centre of the base was freshly scraped and looked like whoever had been there had left in a hurry.
 
The base or more accurately, the compound, contained three Opel-Blitz 3 tonne trucks and pile upon pile of the wooden containers that seemed to pop up everywhere.
 
There was a small prefabricated building at the far end and a small building, possibly a generator room for the lights.
 
Smith moved to examine the containers whilst Lewis went to the generator room.
 
Upon closer examination Smith found all the crates were either broken or missing their lids.
 
Not one of the crates was sealed.
 
What were they transporting and where were they now?
 
Meanwhile Lewis had opened the door to the room and found equipment and fuel for a petrol generator.
 
He closed the door and moved over to the building at the far end, staying close to the trucks to avoid being out in the open too long.