Zompoc Survivor: Odyssey by Ben Reeder Page B

Damon’s crew poured lead into the darkness. I opened the top of the water container and up-ended the bottle of Werx into it. The six reactants inside rattled as I screwed the cap back on and shook it. Another crack came from the park, and someone cried out in pain. Another crack, and I heard the whine of a ricochet while I dumped the ammonia in with the bleach and hastily recapped the bottle. The sound of the two liquids sloshing was covered by more gunfire. Seconds later, I heard the call of “Reloading!” In the fitful light from the Molotov, I looked at the two bottles. The pressure bomb was starting to swell, but the gas mixture hadn’t caused a very noticeable change in the bottle’s shape. So far, so good. Neither was in danger of blowing up on me. I took the smoke bomb and my lighter out, then lit the fuse. More shots came from the park, now more quickly. Again, the boys behind the sandbagged entrance emptied their magazines at nothing, and I tossed the smoke bomb.
    It went off a second before they ran their mags dry, and by the time the first one of them called out that they were reloading, there was a plume of thick gray smoke billowing up.
    “What the fuck is this shit?” one yelled. Light flared behind me as George’s second and last Molotov went off. With the renewed light, I could see a white vapor starting to form at the top of the water bottle. It was time to throw the pressure bomb. Under the cover of the smoke, I went around the corner and tossed the bottle over the top of the sandbags, then dropped flat. Gunfire erupted over my head, then cries of alarm.
    “What was that?”
    “Throw it back!”
    “I got it!” Half a second later, the pressure in the bottle exceeded its strength, and it blew apart, sending boiling, corrosive liquid flying. I lit the fuse on the powder charge as the first screams tore through the night, then chucked it over the sandbags and scurried back to the corner. No one seemed to notice it amid the chemical burns, and it went off like a charm. I pulled the respirator up over my face and pulled the goggles into place.
    When I came back around the corner, the smoke was clearing. Sandbags were tumbled onto the ground, and only moans reached my ears. The glass door had been blown off its hinges, and almost nothing but broken glass and wisps of acrid smoke stood between me and the interior of the armory. I tossed the deforming chlorine bottle into the hallway then stood to the side and unslung the Mossberg. I heard it bounce once, then the deep boom of it rupturing came from inside. After a few seconds, I came around the corner and found myself in a reception area that opened onto a hallway. A tumbled lantern lit the room. Movement came from my right, and I turned the shotgun toward it. It bucked in my hands as I found a target, and the guy went down. I heard footsteps coming my way, then coughing and cursing. I pointed the Mossberg down the hallway, pumped a fresh round into the chamber and sent three more blasts down the hallway. My effort was rewarded with a scream, and I put my back to the wall and loaded four more rounds into the tube.
    Muzzle flash lit the hallway and plaster flew as someone opened fire from down the hallway.
    “Got your six,” I heard in my earpiece, then a fresh scream joined the chorus.
    “They’ve got the doors covered!” someone called out from deeper inside.
    “We got night vision!” I heard Damon yell. “We fucking own the night!”
    “Damon, someone’s inside, man!” I heard from nearby. “They shot me!”
    “We got fucking body armor!” Damon yelled back. I peeked around the corner and didn’t see anyone.
    “I’m bleeding man!” the guy close to me screamed. Then he coughed, and staggered into view, and I aimed for his hips. He flopped and writhed as he let out a high pitched squeal.
    “They’re using some kind of nerve gas!” one yelled as I scrambled down the short hallway. Ahead of me I could see a dim light in an open area.