as I ground the ingredients for primitive gunpowder and got the rest of my improvised arsenal ready. By the time I was done, I had half a dozen Molotov cocktails ready to go, a big pressure bomb, a trio of smoke bombs and a black powder charge in a coffee can and two gas charges that just needed to be mixed and tossed.
“Okay, what time is it?” I asked as I straightened from inserting the fuse into the black powder charge. George looked at his wristwatch.
“Almost two in the morning,” he said.
“Good. We just need a couple more people, and we can get this party started,” I said.
“How many people do you need?” Amy asked after George left to find a couple of volunteers.
“At least five. The armory has doors on all four sides. The Molotovs will take care of keeping the side and back doors out of action at first, then we’ll have to rely on old fashioned suppression fire. Amy, I want you on my six, covering the front door.”
“You’re not going in there without me,” she said. She put her hands on her hips, a pose that she had clearly inherited genetically from her mother.
“Surviving this would be a cinch compared to facing your mother if she ever found out I deliberately took you into a firefight,” I said.
“And you think you can stop me?” she asked.
“Short of tying you up…not really. Just bear with me.” George came back in with three other men. One of the men was carrying what I recognized as an SKS assault rifle, and the other had a deer rifle. George’s rifle turned out to be an old Mosin-Nagant. In addition to the men I’d seen with him earlier, Johnny had tagged along.
“You’re going to need something a little bigger than a handgun for what we’re doing tonight,” I said, pointing to the pistol on his hip.
“I’m not much of a fighter,” Johnny said. “I’m going to be your witness. Somebody’s gotta tell your story.”
“Johnny, we already talked about how dangerous that would be,” I said. He shook his head and gave me a broad smile.
“I’m not gonna use your name, Dave. But I am going to tell the world what you did. People need hope, and something like this will give ‘em that in spades.”
“Assuming I survive,” I said. “So, here’s the plan.” They listened as I laid everything out for them. It didn’t take long. As plans went, it was pretty simple. Less than twenty minutes later, we were on our way. It took us almost an hour to cover the ten blocks to the armory. The moon was at the last quarter, providing just enough light to see by once we let our eyes get used to the light. The dead were out, and we had to bring down a handful of them at an intersection with our blades. George’s men looked at Amy with a little more respect once they watched her put her blade through a zombie skull. Finally, we reached our destination. George stayed with us while the other two went to take up their positions.
“Remember,” I said to George fifteen minutes later. “Light ‘em up when the shooting starts.”
“And come in when Amy blows the whistle. Got it.”
“Yup,” I said, then turned to Amy and put my radio’s earpiece in. “Remember, shoot and move. We go on your first shot.” She did the same, and headed into the park while I crept up to the edge of the house on the corner and waited.
It seemed like forever before I heard the first crack of her Ruger going off. Someone cursed, and George and I rushed forward. He took cover behind a tree and light the gasoline soaked rag on his first Molotov while I kept sprinting for the corner of the building. The back of the building lit up as the first Molotov went off, and George’s arced through the air as I closed on my objective. The night lit up behind me as I made it to the wall and crouched looking away.
“What the fuck was that?” someone called out.
“Get the night vision goggles!”
“Open fire! Shoot ‘em!” Muzzle flash and the sound of gunfire erupted around the corner from me as
“Okay, what time is it?” I asked as I straightened from inserting the fuse into the black powder charge. George looked at his wristwatch.
“Almost two in the morning,” he said.
“Good. We just need a couple more people, and we can get this party started,” I said.
“How many people do you need?” Amy asked after George left to find a couple of volunteers.
“At least five. The armory has doors on all four sides. The Molotovs will take care of keeping the side and back doors out of action at first, then we’ll have to rely on old fashioned suppression fire. Amy, I want you on my six, covering the front door.”
“You’re not going in there without me,” she said. She put her hands on her hips, a pose that she had clearly inherited genetically from her mother.
“Surviving this would be a cinch compared to facing your mother if she ever found out I deliberately took you into a firefight,” I said.
“And you think you can stop me?” she asked.
“Short of tying you up…not really. Just bear with me.” George came back in with three other men. One of the men was carrying what I recognized as an SKS assault rifle, and the other had a deer rifle. George’s rifle turned out to be an old Mosin-Nagant. In addition to the men I’d seen with him earlier, Johnny had tagged along.
“You’re going to need something a little bigger than a handgun for what we’re doing tonight,” I said, pointing to the pistol on his hip.
“I’m not much of a fighter,” Johnny said. “I’m going to be your witness. Somebody’s gotta tell your story.”
“Johnny, we already talked about how dangerous that would be,” I said. He shook his head and gave me a broad smile.
“I’m not gonna use your name, Dave. But I am going to tell the world what you did. People need hope, and something like this will give ‘em that in spades.”
“Assuming I survive,” I said. “So, here’s the plan.” They listened as I laid everything out for them. It didn’t take long. As plans went, it was pretty simple. Less than twenty minutes later, we were on our way. It took us almost an hour to cover the ten blocks to the armory. The moon was at the last quarter, providing just enough light to see by once we let our eyes get used to the light. The dead were out, and we had to bring down a handful of them at an intersection with our blades. George’s men looked at Amy with a little more respect once they watched her put her blade through a zombie skull. Finally, we reached our destination. George stayed with us while the other two went to take up their positions.
“Remember,” I said to George fifteen minutes later. “Light ‘em up when the shooting starts.”
“And come in when Amy blows the whistle. Got it.”
“Yup,” I said, then turned to Amy and put my radio’s earpiece in. “Remember, shoot and move. We go on your first shot.” She did the same, and headed into the park while I crept up to the edge of the house on the corner and waited.
It seemed like forever before I heard the first crack of her Ruger going off. Someone cursed, and George and I rushed forward. He took cover behind a tree and light the gasoline soaked rag on his first Molotov while I kept sprinting for the corner of the building. The back of the building lit up as the first Molotov went off, and George’s arced through the air as I closed on my objective. The night lit up behind me as I made it to the wall and crouched looking away.
“What the fuck was that?” someone called out.
“Get the night vision goggles!”
“Open fire! Shoot ‘em!” Muzzle flash and the sound of gunfire erupted around the corner from me as
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