down. Thirty feet away a white cylinder was lying in the parking lot. There was still smoke rising from it. Below his feet, he could see zombies climbing through the hole in the side of the building. There was smoke pouring out of the hole, and a strange light emanating from the building.
“Shit, we have a fire,” he announced. His mind began to race. How was he going to get 11 people off the roof of a burning veterinarian’s office in the middle of the zombie apocalypse? They never covered that in BNCOC, Basic Non-Commissioned Officer Course.
He trotted to the front of the building. There, about 8 feet below him was the HMMWV, surrounded by about a bazillion zombies. He wasn’t even sure if they could drive it through the mass of flesh.
“Jackson, Sgt Procell,” he said over his shoulder. “Over here.” The two soldiers complied.
“Jackson,” he ordered. “Hop down and get her started.” Jackson handed his rifle to his NCO and slid his body over the edge, slowly lowering himself until his feet were about a foot above the top of the vehicle. He dropped the last foot. SSgt Brown handed the young trooper his rifle.
“You’re next,” he told Sgt Procell. They heard the HMMWV start. The NCO handed his rifle off and followed the young trooper. His right boot caught the turret ring when he landed. The Engineer fell onto his back. Hands grabbed at his uniform. He quickly shook them off and stood in the center of the vehicle’s roof, out of reach of the zombies.
It was SSgt Brown’s turn. SSgt Brown handed his own, and Sgt Procell’s rifle to the younger NCO. He turned to the group of civilians. “We’ll be right back with the truck.” He turned and began sliding over the side. They watched him disappear from site. He hit hard, but was able to keep his balance. Sgt Procell returned his rifle as the older man climbed into the turret ring.
“Pull up behind the LMTV,” he ordered. “Get as close as you can.”
The HMMWV began to move forward. Jackson was forced to give it some gas as the mass of flesh pressed against the vehicle. Finally, the zombies in front of them were either knocked down and run over or pushed out of the way. Jackson pulled the HMMWV up to the bed of the LMTV.
SSgt Brown climbed out of the turret ring and into the bed of the bigger truck. After climbing down the turret ring, he started the truck. He backed it against the front of the building.
Climbing into the back of the truck, he noticed several undead who were pinned between the bumper and the wall. Pulling out his combat knife, he jammed it into the head of each one. They stopped clawing at him as he did.
“Send the kids first,” he ordered the people on the roof. The first kid was the girl named Alicia. She was the girl who had fallen out of this very truck a little over a week ago. Mike held her by her wrists as SSgt Brown grabbed her waist, guiding her feet to the deck of the truck. He continued to help everyone until all the survivors were in the back of the truck.
The truck was completely surrounded again when he finally climbed into the driver’s seat. He slowly let the truck roll forward.
“Hang on back there,” he yelled. He wondered if anyone else found it funny. Probably not.
His heart sank as he looked in the rearview mirror. There, sitting in the parking lot was the yellow panel van. He thought about all the supplies he’d just left behind. Shit.
Jackson pulled the HMMWV in behind the LMTV as it moved east along the highway.
“So, you still think your unit made it to Atlanta?” the young trooper asked Sgt Procell.
“I don’t know,” he answered. He felt ten years older today than he did yesterday. “I sure hope they did. There were a lot of good people in the 326 th .” His voice cracked as he spoke. He could feel the tears welling up again.
“Did I ever tell you about Anderson?” the young
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