the shambling
idiots. I guess it was one of those situations where you either laugh, or you
into hysterics. Laughing feels better, and was less likely to get me killed, so
that’s what I did.
The
horde packed in tighter and tighter, forcing more and more of their number over
the side of the cliff. Gabe continued pouring fire at the ones toward the back
to thin out their numbers. I refrained from shooting the ones at my feet for
fear that the undead behind them would use them as a stepping stool to get
closer to me. In very short order, there were so many corpses trapped between
the truck and the fence that they actually managed to slide the truck backward
a few feet. I nearly lost my balance and had to hop down into the bed and leap
for the fence. My foot slipped on the rail, and for a terrifying instant, I saw
myself being pulled down into the press of corpses and savagely ripped apart.
The image sparked a desperate burst of adrenaline that lent me enough strength
to haul myself up with just my arms until my feet could gain purchase. With my
heart pounding like a kick drum, I reached the top of the fence and hooked a
leg over the uppermost rail. My instincts were screaming at me to climb down
and run as fast as I could in the other direction, but I knew it was important
to stay where the undead could see me. Wherever I went, they would follow. I
wanted them to keep doing what they were doing and annihilate themselves, so
running away was not an option. A few deep breaths helped me get myself
together, and I settled in to watch the show. The truck slid a few more inches
in the hard gravel under the weight of the infected pushing against it, but not
any further. Corpses poured over the cliff by the dozens, then by the hundreds.
Their chilling, ravenous eyes never left me for a second, even as they toppled
over the edge.
After
the better part of an hour, only a hundred or so infected were still moving
between the fence and the cliff. Gabe and I climbed down from our roosts and
gave Tom and Sarah the all clear. They were more than happy to take up their
M-4’s and help us deal with the remaining undead. We formed a firing line along
the fence and went to work dispatching the few stragglers that somehow managed
not to fall off the mountain. A few minutes and a lot of burned cordite later,
the last few revenants slumped to the ground with bullet-sized holes in their
skulls.
Gabe
and I stood outside the fence with the others for a few moments looking out
over our handiwork. My ears rang from the sound of gunfire, my shoulder was
sore from recoil, and my headache had returned with a pounding vengeance, but
in spite of all that I couldn’t help but feel a sense of elation. A horde of
over a thousand undead had attacked us, and we managed to defeat their threat
with only a little bit of damage to the fence and a minimal expenditure of
ammunition. My good mood was short lived, however, when I remembered that these
corpses didn’t find us on their own, but were led to us. Gabe made a gesture at
the vultures that were already circling overhead.
“Reckon
we ought to do something about this mess?” He said. “Damn buzzards ain’t gonna
wait too much longer.”
I
nodded in agreement. The last thing we needed was a swarm of giant carrion
eaters spreading bird crap and infected tissue all over the place. Better they
do that at the bottom of the cliff.
“Tell
you what, if you and Tom don’t mind pushing those bodies over the edge, I’ll
take Sarah and put down any crawlers still moving in the field.”
“Sounds
like a plan, come give us a hand if you get finished before we do.” He said.
I
clapped him on the shoulder and walked over to Sarah. She and Brian followed me
as I moved toward the eastern gate. Sarah noticed that her son was in tow and
rounded on him, pinning him in place with the kind of stern, no-nonsense glare
that mothers have used since time immemorial to stop unruly children in
idiots. I guess it was one of those situations where you either laugh, or you
into hysterics. Laughing feels better, and was less likely to get me killed, so
that’s what I did.
The
horde packed in tighter and tighter, forcing more and more of their number over
the side of the cliff. Gabe continued pouring fire at the ones toward the back
to thin out their numbers. I refrained from shooting the ones at my feet for
fear that the undead behind them would use them as a stepping stool to get
closer to me. In very short order, there were so many corpses trapped between
the truck and the fence that they actually managed to slide the truck backward
a few feet. I nearly lost my balance and had to hop down into the bed and leap
for the fence. My foot slipped on the rail, and for a terrifying instant, I saw
myself being pulled down into the press of corpses and savagely ripped apart.
The image sparked a desperate burst of adrenaline that lent me enough strength
to haul myself up with just my arms until my feet could gain purchase. With my
heart pounding like a kick drum, I reached the top of the fence and hooked a
leg over the uppermost rail. My instincts were screaming at me to climb down
and run as fast as I could in the other direction, but I knew it was important
to stay where the undead could see me. Wherever I went, they would follow. I
wanted them to keep doing what they were doing and annihilate themselves, so
running away was not an option. A few deep breaths helped me get myself
together, and I settled in to watch the show. The truck slid a few more inches
in the hard gravel under the weight of the infected pushing against it, but not
any further. Corpses poured over the cliff by the dozens, then by the hundreds.
Their chilling, ravenous eyes never left me for a second, even as they toppled
over the edge.
After
the better part of an hour, only a hundred or so infected were still moving
between the fence and the cliff. Gabe and I climbed down from our roosts and
gave Tom and Sarah the all clear. They were more than happy to take up their
M-4’s and help us deal with the remaining undead. We formed a firing line along
the fence and went to work dispatching the few stragglers that somehow managed
not to fall off the mountain. A few minutes and a lot of burned cordite later,
the last few revenants slumped to the ground with bullet-sized holes in their
skulls.
Gabe
and I stood outside the fence with the others for a few moments looking out
over our handiwork. My ears rang from the sound of gunfire, my shoulder was
sore from recoil, and my headache had returned with a pounding vengeance, but
in spite of all that I couldn’t help but feel a sense of elation. A horde of
over a thousand undead had attacked us, and we managed to defeat their threat
with only a little bit of damage to the fence and a minimal expenditure of
ammunition. My good mood was short lived, however, when I remembered that these
corpses didn’t find us on their own, but were led to us. Gabe made a gesture at
the vultures that were already circling overhead.
“Reckon
we ought to do something about this mess?” He said. “Damn buzzards ain’t gonna
wait too much longer.”
I
nodded in agreement. The last thing we needed was a swarm of giant carrion
eaters spreading bird crap and infected tissue all over the place. Better they
do that at the bottom of the cliff.
“Tell
you what, if you and Tom don’t mind pushing those bodies over the edge, I’ll
take Sarah and put down any crawlers still moving in the field.”
“Sounds
like a plan, come give us a hand if you get finished before we do.” He said.
I
clapped him on the shoulder and walked over to Sarah. She and Brian followed me
as I moved toward the eastern gate. Sarah noticed that her son was in tow and
rounded on him, pinning him in place with the kind of stern, no-nonsense glare
that mothers have used since time immemorial to stop unruly children in
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