Read The Reckoning - 02 Online
Authors: D. A. Roberts
With one smooth motion, I leveled the pistol at the remaining zombie and cocked the hammer. I shot it through the forehead at less than three paces. Rancid gore exploded from the back of its skull as it took one more step before collapsing in a heap atop zombie number three.
I leaned my head back and let the rain run down my face for just a moment, screaming to the heavens. I could feel the rush of adrenalin still flowing through me and my roar only added to the intensity of my rage. I wasn't finished, yet.
I quickly recovered my hammer and scanned the immediate area. The heat of my anger hadn’t cooled any as I looked for more threats. I could see close to twenty zombies following two of the
Freemen
into the grocery store. Six more were shuffling after the convoy and another seven were converging on the wreckage of the lead Humvee. I could see movement near the roof. Someone was alive. I was moving before I knew what I was doing.
Without a second thought, I charged towards the Humvee. I didn’t know who was alive or how badly they were hurt. All I knew was that there was no way I was going to leave them to the zombies. With another primal scream, I charged at them with weapons ready.
My feet fairly flew over the puddles of gore and rain that were collecting around me. Time seemed to slow and my focus narrowed to the zombies that were closing in on my fallen friends. Right then, nothing else mattered. I would either save them, or avenge their deaths.
I leveled the pistol and took a shot at one of the closest zombies. I saw hair, blood and an ear explode from the side of its
head but it didn’t fall. I did get its attention, though. As it turned around, I fired again. This time, the shot was better. The round struck the turning zombie in the mouth, taking out the brainstem and dropping it instantly. My voice was guttural and ragged and I grunted with each step I took.
My next round took out another target, but I missed the next two. When the pistol clicked
on an empty cylinder, I howled in rage. I covered the distance to the zombies in less than ten seconds and drove the hammer into the back of the skull of the nearest one, dropping it. In a flurry of blows, I took out the remaining zombies one by one with bone splintering efficiency. Unfortunately, not before two of them had begun biting chunks out of the body on the ground. It was Sheriff Daniels.
With my heart
jackhammering in my chest and my breath heaving, I looked around wild-eyed at the carnage. There were more zombies coming from almost every direction. There were dozens of them, maybe hundreds. I quickly reloaded the old revolver with surprisingly steady hands and glanced down at the bodies of two of my friends. Ian Shane had died instantly from the explosion of the RPG. His face was shredded and his body was blown almost in half. Water and blood ran in rivulets off of his face and onto the ground.
Sheriff Daniels
lay there, covered in blood and badly burned. He’d managed to crawl out of the turret hatch while the Humvee burned. The vehicle was on its side and it was the only way he could get out. The zombies had done a number on his stomach and left leg. He’d been alive when they got to him. I was sure of that. I’d seen him moving. The zombies had finished the job the
Freemen
had started. Sheriff Daniels was gone.
I could see his eyelids starting to flutter open. He was turning. I raised the pistol and pointed it at his head. It struck me then that this was the second time I’d put down a Sheriff of Nathanael County with the same gun. The thought made me cringe and close my eyes for a moment. I said a silent prayer to the
Gods that they guide these two warriors to their rest. They’d both earned it. There was a huge clap of thunder and a massive flash of lightning that split the air above me. Thor had heard me.
Opening my eyes, I locked my gaze on the dead eyes fixed on me. Without hesitation, I shot it in the forehead before it had a chance to make its first kill as a zombie. Then, just to be safe, I put one round through the skull of Ian Shane.
It pained me to do it, but it was the only mercy I could give them. I would expect no less from either of them, if it had been me lying there on the ground. I refused to become one of the living dead.
“Goodbye, brothers,” I whispered
.
I let my head slump to my chest in grief for my fallen friends. In the pouring rain, no one could have known I was crying.
I glanced up when I heard Spec-4 yelling my name.
“Wylie!” she screamed. “They’re coming!”
From down the road, I could see close to a dozen zombies coming our way. This group was all
Sprinters
. They would be here in minutes. I reached down and grabbed the Silver Star off of the chest of Sheriff Daniels. Then I grabbed Ian’s, as well. Shoving them both in my pocket, I took off towards the pawnshop as fast as I could go. I wasn’t carrying enough firepower to take on a dozen
Sprinters.
I reached the back of the
pawnshop when I heard gunfire erupt from the grocery store. The
Freemen
weren’t going down without a fight. I glanced up to see that the
Sprinters
had heard the shots and were now heading for the grocery store. Another flash of lightning lit up the front of the store and I could see half a dozen of the
Freemen
fighting their way inside. They might have lacked our training, but they made up for it in sheer ferocity. They putting up one Hel of a fight.
“They’re all yours, assholes,” I whispered as I climbed onto the dumpster.
I scrambled up and reached for the edge of the roof. Spec-4 reached down and grabbed my hand. I knew she wasn’t strong enough to pull me up, but it did give me just enough support that I could grab the edge of the roof with my free hand. The rain made our grip difficult, but we struggled through it. With her help, I was able to scramble onto the roof. I collapsed on my back, breathing heavily. She lay down next to me, exhausted.
“Well,” she said between breaths, “now what?”
“Let me catch my breath,” I wheezed.
“Sure thing, old-timer,” she said, smiling.
We lay there for several minutes, catching our breath and resting. I didn’t mind the rain that was soaking us. If felt good on my face and skin. Like a gentle reminder that I was still alive. I could no longer hear gunfire coming from the grocery store, so I figured that the zombies had won. Peeking over the edge of the roof, I could see that the remaining zombies in the area were heading for the store. That was good news for us.
By boosting her up, I got her up on the next level of the building. We used my pack straps to help me to join her. Once we were there, it was easy to get onto the shingled part of the roof. Slowly and quietly to not attract the attention of the zombies, we made our way to the front of the store and the only windows on the building. I used a combat knife to break the lock and raise the window.
Once we were inside, I closed it behind us. We were in a small room that looked like an office. A small desk cluttered with paperwork and a computer was in one corner of the room. There was also a desk chair and a couch. I helped Spec-4 to the couch and eased her onto it. We were both soaked to the skin and I knew we’d have to find some dry clothing to change into or we’d both catch pneumonia.
“How’s the leg?” I asked.
“Hurts like hell,” she replied, through clenched teeth.
“Then you stay here while I clear the building.”
“I’d tell you to be careful, but I don’t think you know what that means,” she said, softly.
Grinning, I pulled out my flashlight and click
ed it on. Then I grabbed my Keltec shotgun from my backpack and headed for the door. I glanced back to see her pulling out her pistol and checking the load. She was tough. Even wounded, she was ready to fight. I just hoped that the building was clear. We didn’t need to attract the attention of every zombie outside. There were two more rooms on the upper floor, a bathroom and a room with a small bed and dresser. It also had dozens of boxes piled along one wall, all labeled “Receipts” and had a month and year written on them.
“
Hel of a filing system,” I muttered.
Other than that, the room was clear. I turned and headed down the stairs to the ground floor. It was extremely dark downstairs. There were no windows at all to allow
in outside light. I knew it was for security reasons, but it made it hard to see. I was glad that it meant less to defend but it also kept us in the dark, literally. With all of the tables, racks and hanging displays, the room was one massive shadow. It was going to be difficult to locate anyone hiding in here.
I swept the back room and found it full of tools, leather jackets, old computers, stereos and various items of enough value to pawn. I swept the light around and under tables, keeping the shotgun ready. I fell bac
k on my military training and kept the sight of the weapon trained where my eyes went. My upper body moved in precision, keeping the shotgun in optimal firing position. The back room was clear.
Moving into the main room, I swept from right to left. The front room was full of guns. Most of them were old, but looked serviceable. There was one wall of assault-style weapons. I knew that they would all be the civilian models, but I was thrilled to have them. The glass fronted counter was full of handguns. Shelves behind the counter were loaded with ammo. We’d hit the mother lode.
There was no way in Hel that we would be able to carry all of it, though.
I found the body of the shop owner behind the counter. He was sitting up and still holding a pistol in his hand. There were bite marks on his left arm. Since there were no other bodies in the building, I could only guess as to wha
t happened. I figured that he’d been bitten and sealed himself inside the store. When he realized that he was going to become a zombie, he shot himself in the head.
Hearing a growl behind me,
I spun around to see a child zombie emerging from under one of the tables. It was a boy no older than my youngest son. As it stood up, I could see that it had been shot in the chest at least three times. It cocked its head as it looked at me, and then lunged forward with shocking speed. I didn’t have time to ponder shooting a kid. It was a goddamned
Sprinter.
As it raced towards me, I hesitated long enough for it to come around the counter. I didn’t want to shoot the shotgun and risk alerting zombies outside of our presence, so I stepped forward and butt-stroked the thing to the face. I hit it with enough force to knock it flying back about twenty feet. I didn’t realize how little the kid weighed. I hit it hard enough to knock down a grown man, but this kid couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds.
As it struggled to get back to its feet, I looked around quickly trying to find something else to use. My eyes fell on a glass display case with a sword inside it. It was a Roman Gladius with a leather sheath. The card that was mounted with it read, “To Tony, thanks for everything. Signed; Chris at Scorpion Swords and Knives.”
Shattering the
glass with the stock of the Keltec, I reached in and grabbed the beautiful sword. The leather wrapped hilt felt good in my hand. The workmanship was amazing. It was a work of art. A
lethal
work of art. With a snap of my wrist, I brought the blade to bear just as the zombie-kid was getting to his feet. It snarled and raced towards me, oblivious to the weapon in my hand.
I felt a pang of remorse as I leveled the blade and lunged forward, piercing the right eye socket without effort. The momentum of the zombie impaled it on the blade and did the damage for me. As it fell to the ground, I gave the blade another shove and a twist just to be sure.
Cleaning the blade on the shirt of the shopkeeper, I grabbed the sheath and slid the blade inside. Then I hooked it to my belt. It felt good having it there.
I swept the store again just to be sure, but I didn’t find any more surprises.
I checked the peephole on the door and didn’t see any zombies in the area. A quick pat search of the two bodies yielded nothing from the kid, but the shopkeeper had a large set of keys and a lock-blade knife. I pocketed them and finished my search. Unfortunately, that was all I found.
Dragging the two bodies to the door, I unbolted it and opened it slowly. There were still no zombies in the area. Quickly, I dragged the two bodies out onto the front steps and slipped back inside. Then I secured the door and
replaced the bolt. We were safe for now, but for how long. I knew the zombies wouldn’t find us so long as we stayed quiet.
My biggest concern was the
Freemen
. If they knew the guns were here, you can bet they’d be coming for them. If that happened, we were in a lot of trouble. Knowing we couldn’t afford to be here if they came snooping around, I had to find a way out of here and back to the Underground. Unfortunately, my options were quickly running out.