“Yes, sir,” Mason replied.

  Bretz, Baker and Johnson met Kersey and Kowalski in front of the bridge, taking a good, long look at it in a loaded silence.

  “Well?” Johnson asked. “We could always just plow through ‘em. The SUVs will make quick work of some o’ them hatchbacks.”

  Kersey shook his head. “I don’t want to risk damaging our vehicles and not being able to get to the railyard,” he replied. “Getting Bill to a train is priority one. If we can’t do it quickly, then we need to do it as safely as possible.”

  “You think we should go back to the 83 bridge, then?” Bretz asked. “What if it’s just as blocked?”

  Kersey sighed. “If that’s the case, then we can work on making a path on this bridge. But I feel that trying to take the path of least resistance might be our best option right now.”

  “Whatever you say, Sarge,” Johnson replied.

  Baker shrugged. “It makes sense. It’s not really that many blocks over, anyway. If we’re going to encounter resistance, I don’t think taking the other bridge will make it that much worse.”

  “Famous last words,” Johnson replied, and clapped him on the back as the headed back to the SUVs.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The 83 bridge had a few cars smashed up here and there, but was fairly clear. Kersey led the convoy carefully across, keeping eyes peeled for any signs of trouble. Not only were there zombies to worry about, but after what he’d seen in La Crosse he couldn’t help but be wary of any survivors lurking about, especially opposing the military.

  Once across, he turned left on an eerily empty street, away from a big box store. They passed a car wash and a few industrial buildings, and then a hospital on the right.

  Kersey fought the urge to stop. Medical supplies were the most important thing next to food. But they wouldn’t even know what they were looking for, and they didn’t have a lay of the land. Not to mention the amount of zombies wandering around in the courtyard, in and out of the busted-in emergency room lobby.

  Shortly past that was a park, and he had to slow down to avoid debris in the road.

  “What the fuck is that?” Mason breathed, looking out the window to his left. There was an adjacent park, but it was absolutely littered with little crimson lumps. It looked like there had been a massacre, but the bodies were too small to be human or zombie.

  Kowalski pointed to a sign up ahead: Waggin’ Tails Bark Park. Bill gagged.

  Mason shook his head. “Maybe it’s stupid to be sad for a bunch of dogs… but it’s worse they probably died trying to protect their owners.”

  “Who probably fed on them after they turned,” Kowalski muttered, and the imagery made the other passengers shiver.

  “Okay, be ready,” Kersey said as he pulled into a parking lot, avoiding a few burning cars. “I’m going to drive the walking path through those trees and then we’re in the suburbs. This could get ugly.”

  The soldiers checked their weapons, and Bill grasped his handgun tightly. Kersey eased up onto the walking path, the sturdy grass on either side providing traction for the large vehicle. Bretz stayed right up close to his back bumper, knowing they were about to head into a possible war zone.

  What else was new? They were always about to head into a possible war zone.

  When they crested the trees and hit asphalt once again, the soldiers’ eyes widened.

  “Looks like they got hit hard,” Kowalski breathed, surveying the damage. Not one house seemed to be intact, windows and doors blown out. Cars were overturned, some smashed together, some burnt to a crisp. There was new development happening on the right of them, but the wooden framing was busted and all caved-in on itself.

  Kersey took it slow, eyes sweeping the road in front of him, back and forth. A few houses on the left were on fire, and the smoke blew lazily onto the road. Visibility was poor, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as if each follicle were on high alert.

  “Sarge!” Kowalski cried, the first to spot the jagged shadow of a pack of zombies through the smoke.

  Kersey hit the brakes, turning slightly so that Bretz could avoid him if he didn’t stop quickly enough.

  “What’s up, Sarge?” the other driver asked through the radio.

  Kersey clenched his jaw. “We’ve got company,” he said, and opened the sunroof. “Kowalski?”

  The sniper nodded and stood, poking the top half of his body up through the hole, bringing the scope to his eye. There was a short gust of wind, and it blew the smoke clear from the top for just long enough of a moment for him to see just what lay ahead for them.

  “Sarge, it’s a horde up there,” he called down.

  “Fuck,” Kersey muttered. “How many?”

  “I only got a glimpse, but they went over a block up the street, and are covering everything, front lawns, sidewalks, there are a lot,” Kowalski replied.

  “Okay, come back in,” the Sergeant instructed, and lifted his radio to his mouth. “Bretz, we gotta turn around, there’s a horde here that’s too risky to face head on. You take point, take the next sidestreet and then take the next left, we’ll see what we can see.”

  “Ten-four,” Bretz replied, and began a five-point turn to swing around. “Shit, Sarge, there’s a bunch on this side now, too.”

  “How many? They can’t have just amassed out of thin air,” Kersey replied.

  “A fucking sea of them, sir,” Bretz said.

  “We don’t have the bullets to deal with a battle of his magnitude,” the Sergeant mused. “And this neighborhood is in a lot worse shape than the last one we were in. I doubt we’ll be able to forage for weapons here. We need the ammo to sweep the trainyard.”

  “But we need to get to the trainyard,” Kowalski replied, and as if on cue, the corpses reached the SUV, smacking wet flesh against the fiberglass and windows. The groans echoed in the pungent air, bouncing into them from the sunroof.

  “Let me draw them away,” Mason said, leaning forward from the backseat.

  Kersey shook his head. “What?”

  “I’ll get in the other SUV, they get into this one, and I’ll crank the music and lead them away,” he said.

  Kersey shook his head again. “No, that’s ridiculous. We can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Mason jutted out his chin. “Sarge, we don’t have another choice. We can’t just drive over them, because they’ll follow us. We don’t have the ammo to take them all down, and you need to get Bill to the train yard. Two hundred and fifty thousand troops need those trains.”

  The Sergeant scrubbed his hands down his face. “It should be me,” he muttered.

  “No, you should be heading this mission,” Mason countered. “Let us grunts do the grunt work. When you’re all ready to go, radio me and I’ll leave ‘em in the dust and circle back.”

  “You’d fuckin’ better,” Kowalski said sternly.

  “Bretz, I’m going to need you three to climb over into this vehicle,” Kersey said into the radio.

  A laugh came back. “Sorry, Sarge, I misheard you. It sounded like you said you wanted me, Baker and Johnson to get into your SUV.”

  “That is what I said,” Kersey replied. “Mason is going to take yours and draw the horde away from the trainyard.”

  “Alone?” Baker’s voice came through, sounding strained. “I’ll go too.”

  “No, Private, priority is to secure the train yard,” Kersey replied. “Mason can handle himself. Bretz, pull up beside us.”

  Mason slung his rifle over his shoulder and smirked. “Finally, I’ll get to listen to the music I wanna listen to.”

  “Ugh, you’re gonna blast shitty gangsta rap?” Kowalski wrinkled his nose.

  “That,” Mason pointed at his comrade, “is racist.” He stood up, and slid out of the sunroof onto the roof of the SUV.

  “Be safe,” Kersey called, and Mason gave him a salute before clambering over to the top of Bretz’s vehicle.

  Johnson was the first to pop up, shaking his head. “Crazy fuckers, how are we all gonna fit in there?”

  “You could always sit on Bretz’ lap,” Mason replied with a smirk.

  Johnson muttered to himself as he stepped over to the other SUV, lowering himself into the backseat, narrowly missing kicking Kowalski in the head. Baker was a little more graceful, dropping down to sit between the redneck and Bill.

  Bretz paused a moment, reaching out to shake Mason’s hand. “See you later, Private,” he said firmly, and his companion nodded with a smile.

  “Yes, sir,” he said, and then dropped into the driver’s seat.

  By this point, the zombies were going absolutely crazy, so upset that their boxed meals weren’t opening up for them.

  “Guess you’re gettin’ in the trunk,” Johnson bellowed, and Bretz shook his head.

  “Fuck no, I’ll stay up here,” he replied, and dangled his legs into the sunroof, planting his ass firmly between two lengths of roof rack. Kersey cut the engine, turning off the lights, and pulling out the keys so that there was no incessant beeping.

  Mason revved his engine, and a sudden blast of loud death metal exploded into the air. Kowalski laughed and shook his head. His companion gave him the devil-horns through the window, and then squealed the tires, putting the car into gear to start plowing through zombies. He moved slow enough that the could keep up, but drew them back towards the 83.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Baker said quietly, and the mood in the car was somber as the distorted power chords faded away into the distance.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The air in the SUV was thick with trepidation. Bretz eventually ducked inside and closed the sunroof, as it seemed that some of the zombies were too interested in the breathing meal up on top of the vehicle. There was enough leg room that he was able to sit backwards on the center console, facing the three in the backseat.

  “He’ll be fine,” Bretz said quietly, studying Baker’s fearful expression.

  His comrade shook his head. “I know. I mean, there are about a billion things that could go wrong, but he’s tough. As long as we don’t leave without him.”

  “I’m not leaving him behind,” Kersey replied firmly.

  “If anything happens, at least he knows to just follow the train tracks back towards Kansas,” Bill supplied, but Baker just glowered at him.

  “They’re starting to thin out,” Kowalski cut in, in his level tone. Everyone looked outside, and he was right. The zombies were no longer shoulder to shoulder—there was definitely more breathing room.

  It felt like forever for the horde to finally break up into a few stragglers. They didn’t seem to be interested in following their brethren, but it was only a dozen or so.

  “Wish I had ol’ Betsy with me,” Johnson said wistfully, and Bill raised an eyebrow at him.

  Bretz laughed. “You sure seemed to have fun with that spiky truck,” he said, and the redneck nodded emphatically.

  “Okay,” Kersey piped up. “I think we’re on enough of a decline that if I put it in neutral we’ll roll back without making too much noise. Bretz, head back up top and see if you can get a better lay of the land.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, and opened up the sun roof, climbing back up onto the roof rack. The smoke wasn’t as thick anymore, and the few zombies milling about didn’t even seem to notice him. He drew his hunting knife and laid down flat on his belly, holding onto the rack and entwining his feet in the sunroof so that his arm was within headshot distance of the enemies that would be going past.

  Kersey put the shifter into neutral, and eased off the brake. The SUV began to roll backwards, as he’d hoped, and slow enough that it wouldn’t attract too much attention. Bretz grinned as a few zombies thwacked off of the back bumper, staggering and being flattened by the big tires.

  He managed to stab two on the way by in the skull, dropping them in crumpled heaps to the ground. Soon the street was clear, and he flipped over, sitting up so he could look down into the driver’s seat.

  “Clear behind us, Sarge,” he reported. Kersey gently turned the wheel, looking behind him to guide the SUV half-into a driveway before there was no more gravity pulling them backwards. He turned off the headlights and started the engine, and then eased back onto the road, trying not to rev too loud. When it looked like they were in the clear, he sped up a bit and they wound through the rest of the suburb, fingers on the trigger.

  Mason leading the horde away had been a one-time thing. If they encountered anything to that magnitude again, they’d be in a shitload more trouble.

  Kersey let out an audible sigh of relief as they drove out of town, hitting a dirt road that would wind along the river to the south end of the railyard.

  Johnson hooted, startling everyone in the vehicle. “Fuck yeah! We fuckin’ got this!”

  “Save your cheering for when we’re driving away on a train,” Baker muttered, but he couldn’t put a damper on the redneck’s excitement.

  Kowalski lifted his radio to his lips. “Mason, we’re clear of town, copy?”

  There was a pregnant pause, and everyone held their breaths.

  “Copy, good to hear, buddy,” he came back, crackling a bit with some crunchy guitar riffs in the background. “We’re having a rave downtown.”

  Kowalski laughed. “Copy that,” he replied. “We’ll touch base when we’re on a train. Head to the north end of town and try to circle back, got it?”

  “Ten-four,” Mason replied, and then cranked the music back up to full volume before letting go of his receiver.

  “If you take this road up, there’s a tourist tower where we can see the entire railyard,” Bill said, leaning forward and pointing at the next crossroad.

  Kersey nodded. “Good idea.” He turned up Homestead road, stifling a bitter chuckle at the name. There was nothing about the apocalypse that felt like a homestead anymore.

  The tower stood tall and proud overtop of a parking lot, with a tourist building attached to it, likely a gift shop. Kersey pulled into the parking lot and drove as close to the front door as he could. He turned around, and Bretz leaned forward to listen in.

  “Baker, Kowalski, you’re with me,” Kersey said. “We’re going to take Bill up that tower and have a look at the railyard. We’ll sweep the area and see if there are any threats, figure out how to neutralize them, and Bill will locate where we need to go to get the rig that he needs.

  “Johnson, Bretz, keep your eyes and ears peeled, make sure there’s nothing lurking about. One of you stay in the driver’s seat in case we need to make a quick getaway. Everyone clear?”

  There was a chorus of yessirs all around, and then Kersey nodded. He turned to the driver’s side door, peering out before opening it and hopping down to the asphalt. Bretz slid down into the driver’s seat from the sunroof, giving him a thumbs-up as he closed the door. Kowalski opened the back door to let Bill and Baker out, and Kersey touched the conductor’s arm.

  “You stay between us at all times, understand?” the Sergeant asked firmly.

  Bill rolled his eyes, and held up his gun. “I’m not exactly helpless, ya know?”

  “You’re still not trained military,” Kersey shot back. “And you’re the only one who knows how to operate that train. So stay between us.”

  Bill nodded in defeat, and let the men form a rough triangle around him, Kowalski in front. They knocked on the front door of the tourist building, to try to draw out anything from inside. A lone zombie staggered to the door, looking pretty loopy with a bashed in head.

  “Apparently somebody didn’t finish the job,” Baker mused. Kowalski opened the door and immediately stabbed the corpse in the head, kicking it inside so it wouldn’t obstruct the doorway.

  The quartet moved slowly through the area, which was a museum and gift shop combo, all the way to the back where the walkway to the Golden Spike Tower was. The glass-topped walkway was ominously quiet, but the encountered no resistance. Kowalski moved slowly but purposefully all the way up the spiral staircase inside, popping up into a large viewing area. It was easily the size of two conference rooms, with windows all along every wall. It was a panoramic view of the area, and showed them all of the railyard.

  “Clear,” Kowalski announced, and the other three emerged behind him. He crossed to the panels facing the southern rail yard, and slid open the window so he could rest his rifle on the sill and have a look through his scope.

  “What have you got?” Kersey asked, coming up behind him.

  The Private shrugged. “Nothing we can’t handle,” he replied. “Random stragglers around, none in groups of more than two. It doesn’t look like there are any pockets where there could be giant groups, aside from the warehouse buildings that I can’t see inside. But they look open, so I don’t know if there would particularly be anything trapped inside.”

  “That’s good news,” Kersey replied with a nod. “Bill, do you want to take a look, see what we’re working with here?”

  He stepped forward and Kowalski gently handed over the rifle. The older man peered through the scope, and swept around the large railyard.

  “There’s our girl,” he said quietly, and pulled back, pointing. “See the red engine over there with thirty-or-so cars behind it? We’d have to make sure they’re all attached, but that’s the one that’ll be most useful to us. It’s a diesel-electric, too, so better on fuel.”

  Kersey looked through the scope to where he motioned, and nodded. “Looks good.” He turned to Kowalski. “I want you to monitor things from up here. Keep a bird’s eye view on what’s going on, if you see any big groups of zombies you give us a heads up. Don’t fire unless you have to, though, we don’t want to make too much noise before we get up and running.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kowalski replied.

  “Okay,” Kersey turned back to Bill. “Let’s get you in that train.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Bill directed Bretz from the backseat, driving slowly around the winding driveways to get to where they needed to be. Thankfully all of the tracks were lowered into the asphalt, so there wasn’t any trouble driving the SUV over them.

 

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