black and gray combat gear flagged them to a stop.
"Patrol five. Reporting as ordered!" The driver barked to the soldier.
"Take a position at the western end of the line!" the soldier was screaming to be heard over the gunfire. "Deploy your men, and start shooting deadfucks!"
"Yes sir!" the Driver barked, gunning the jeep into motion.
"You heard the man!" Jenkins yelled. "Once we park I want you all to take position to either side of the Humvee and shoot any deadfuck you lay your eyes on!"
The Humvee braked to a stop at the end of the line, and Jenkins threw open the back door and stepped out.
"Move your asses!"
Matt piled out behind him, un-slinging his rifle and thumbing off the safety. He stepped to the side of the Humvee and gazed across the battlefield. Ahead of the line of jeeps were a series of trenches, spread twenty-five feet apart. Each held half a dozen soldiers, rifles trained out ahead of them to the advancing wave of zombies. Forty feet beyond the trenches, the rolling lawn ended in a street that marked the beginning of a subdivision of neighborhoods, which spread to the north and west, down the hill, into the city. Zombies were pouring from these neighborhoods by the dozens. Matt blinked in surprise at the number of them; there must be at least five hundred spread out across a two hundred foot line, the nearest only thirty feet away. Hundreds more lay dead between the trenches and the street.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" Jenkins was screaming beside him. He was barely audible over the gunfire. "Open fire!"
Matt raised his gun to his shoulder and took aim. The zombie was a woman, or had been. Now she was nothing more than a pile of walking pus. Her head sagged to the side, eyes blank, her skin a slight shade of green. Her left arm ended in a jagged stump, three inches below the shoulder, with several inches of yellow bone poking through. Her clothes were tattered rags, stained with blood and grime. Matt’s hands were shaking with adrenaline, and his first shot went through the zombies throat. It stumbled back half a step, before continuing ahead. His second hit her between the eyes. He targeted another. And another. He emptied two full clips, scoring a kill with almost everyone. But the zombies kept coming. Ron was beside him, his own rifle blasting away. The kick of the gun and the smell of the powder put Matt in some kind of trance. Zombies fell dead like ducks in a shooting gallery.
Finally, after what seemed forever, it was over. He lowered his gun, surveying the carnage. Over two thousand zombies lay dead, piled in heaps ahead of them. There hadn't been a single human casualty. Matt looked around. Soldiers were smiling at one another, clapping each other on the back and laughing at their victory. Matt could hear nothing but a high-pitched ringing in his ears. Ron was beside him, saying something, a wide grin on his face. Matt shouldered his rifle, turning away from the carnage. His head spun, and he put a hand against the Humvee to keep his balance. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he opened them, Ron was beside him holding out a black canteen.
"Water."
The ringing in his ears had subsided some, and he could barely hear Ron. He took the canteen and gulped several mouthfuls of water. He splashed a bit on his face, hoping the cold water would help clear his head. He held the canteen towards Ron.
"Keep it." Ron said.
Matt sat there for several long minutes, taking deep breaths and sipping water, until the ringing faded to a dull whine. He would probably hear that until tomorrow.
"How are you holding up?" Ron asked from beside him.
"Good." Matt said, feeling anything but. "All that gunfire. It sort of put me in a daze."
Ron chuckled. "It'll do that."
"I've never seen so many of those things at once. They just kept coming." Matt was bewildered.
"It was never like that before." Ron said. "After the initial outbreak, we only saw strays every now and again. But for about
"Patrol five. Reporting as ordered!" The driver barked to the soldier.
"Take a position at the western end of the line!" the soldier was screaming to be heard over the gunfire. "Deploy your men, and start shooting deadfucks!"
"Yes sir!" the Driver barked, gunning the jeep into motion.
"You heard the man!" Jenkins yelled. "Once we park I want you all to take position to either side of the Humvee and shoot any deadfuck you lay your eyes on!"
The Humvee braked to a stop at the end of the line, and Jenkins threw open the back door and stepped out.
"Move your asses!"
Matt piled out behind him, un-slinging his rifle and thumbing off the safety. He stepped to the side of the Humvee and gazed across the battlefield. Ahead of the line of jeeps were a series of trenches, spread twenty-five feet apart. Each held half a dozen soldiers, rifles trained out ahead of them to the advancing wave of zombies. Forty feet beyond the trenches, the rolling lawn ended in a street that marked the beginning of a subdivision of neighborhoods, which spread to the north and west, down the hill, into the city. Zombies were pouring from these neighborhoods by the dozens. Matt blinked in surprise at the number of them; there must be at least five hundred spread out across a two hundred foot line, the nearest only thirty feet away. Hundreds more lay dead between the trenches and the street.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" Jenkins was screaming beside him. He was barely audible over the gunfire. "Open fire!"
Matt raised his gun to his shoulder and took aim. The zombie was a woman, or had been. Now she was nothing more than a pile of walking pus. Her head sagged to the side, eyes blank, her skin a slight shade of green. Her left arm ended in a jagged stump, three inches below the shoulder, with several inches of yellow bone poking through. Her clothes were tattered rags, stained with blood and grime. Matt’s hands were shaking with adrenaline, and his first shot went through the zombies throat. It stumbled back half a step, before continuing ahead. His second hit her between the eyes. He targeted another. And another. He emptied two full clips, scoring a kill with almost everyone. But the zombies kept coming. Ron was beside him, his own rifle blasting away. The kick of the gun and the smell of the powder put Matt in some kind of trance. Zombies fell dead like ducks in a shooting gallery.
Finally, after what seemed forever, it was over. He lowered his gun, surveying the carnage. Over two thousand zombies lay dead, piled in heaps ahead of them. There hadn't been a single human casualty. Matt looked around. Soldiers were smiling at one another, clapping each other on the back and laughing at their victory. Matt could hear nothing but a high-pitched ringing in his ears. Ron was beside him, saying something, a wide grin on his face. Matt shouldered his rifle, turning away from the carnage. His head spun, and he put a hand against the Humvee to keep his balance. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he opened them, Ron was beside him holding out a black canteen.
"Water."
The ringing in his ears had subsided some, and he could barely hear Ron. He took the canteen and gulped several mouthfuls of water. He splashed a bit on his face, hoping the cold water would help clear his head. He held the canteen towards Ron.
"Keep it." Ron said.
Matt sat there for several long minutes, taking deep breaths and sipping water, until the ringing faded to a dull whine. He would probably hear that until tomorrow.
"How are you holding up?" Ron asked from beside him.
"Good." Matt said, feeling anything but. "All that gunfire. It sort of put me in a daze."
Ron chuckled. "It'll do that."
"I've never seen so many of those things at once. They just kept coming." Matt was bewildered.
"It was never like that before." Ron said. "After the initial outbreak, we only saw strays every now and again. But for about
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