Zombie Theorem (Book 2): The Siege, page 24
I turned to Kuppers, “We have any grenades left?”
He stared at me for a minute, then reached down into his bag and handed me two, keeping two for himself. “Vic, any of you guys have any grenades? Over.” I called over the radio.
“Yeah, we have about ten between us. Let us know when you want to throw them out. Over.”
A plan came to me then. “What do you guys think about going quiet for a second? Maybe we can sucker them in a little more? Over.”
“Roger all. Over.” We stopped firing and pushed our heads down into the dirt, hoping to not get a bullet in our brain. I peeked out and witnessed the enemy making ground on us. I clicked on the radio, “Fifteen more seconds and then let them have it. Over.”
Vic reported back his agreement. I counted off in my head and then pulled the pin on one of the grenades. I held down on the spoon as I hurried to my knees and then threw it as hard as I could into the oncoming troops. Once it left my hand, I dropped back onto my face and spread my arms and legs out like Kuppers taught me. The multiple explosions rippled through the advancing line and shredded them. I waited for a second and then went back to my knees again. Kuppers read what I was doing and followed my lead. I pulled the pin from my second grenade and threw this one like I was Orel Hershiser of the 1989 L.A. Dodgers during the World Series. I made it over the front line and into the men behind them. I barely had a chance to get back on my face before the grenade went off with devastating effects. All along the line, the enemy was shredded from shrapnel from our grenades.
I raised my MP5 and started firing above the fallen line and into the rear groups. Our line exploded in automatic fire as we tried to force the soldiers back. I was soon out of magazines for the MP5, rendering the gun useless. I had left my shotgun back at the front and had nothing but my handgun, and I was not that great of a shot. I started looking around and saw the M-14 Senshi usually carried around on the ground by the house. I unslung and disconnected my MP5 and left in on the ground while I crawled to reach the other gun. My hand finally came to rest on the metal. I pulled it over and looked it over. Next to it happened to be three loaded magazines that must have fallen with it. I snatched them up and crawled back to Kuppers. I pulled back the charging handle, unfolded the tripod in the front, and rested it on the ground. I put the stock against my shoulder and sighted down the scope. I slid my finger into the trigger guard and slowly squeezed back. The gun hammered me in the shoulder, and I saw my target’s head almost disappear into a pink mist as his helmet blew off and back into the man behind him.
My shoulder was hurting, but I ignored it and found my next target. I had no idea how many rounds I had left, or the caliber, but I kept squeezing that trigger and getting blasted into the shoulder by the stock. The bolt locked back. I turned the gun to the side and removed the magazine, replacing it with one of the others I found. I pulled back on the charging handle and resettled behind it again. Soon I was back in the fight. I was pushed into the ground hard and almost blacked out when a giant explosion rocked the ground. I turned to Kuppers, and he gave me a worried look. That explosion was at the front of the house. I left the gun I was manning and took off running for the front.
I pulled the 1911 from my thigh holster and came around the corner so fast I clipped the side of my already bruised shoulder. The D9 was on fire, and pieces of it lay on the ground around it, along with a couple of bodies. Cold ice ran through my veins, pushing out my emotions, and taking control of me. I ran for the bodies, needing to see who was hurt. I was in the zone. I hadn’t even noticed my ribs on my left side were burning. I scanned the forest line and saw men coming out from it, firing into the bulldozers and into the house and, more importantly, at me. I fired into their ranks, hitting men in legs arms and torsos. I fell to the ground, changed out my magazine, and looked over the bodies. I didn’t recognize anyone, and was relieved to find they were enemy soldiers. I saw my shotgun and dove for it on my knees. I gripped it tight, pumped it once, and came up firing into the men running in my direction. When I fired my last shot, I dropped behind the Humvee and reloaded from the side mount saddle.
I reached up and pulled the loose ammo I had left on the hood down and into my vest pouches. I reached out and picked up one of the M4s the enemy must have dropped. I wasn’t a very good shot with this gun, but I had fired one so I knew how to use it. I stood back up, seeing that the men coming out of the tree line had slowed down a bit, wary of the new threat. I looked through the scope and started firing into them. After five shots, the gun clicked empty. I dragged a body closer and rifled through his pockets, pulling out magazines. I slipped them into my pouches and loaded one into the gun. I knew the enemy had come closer and would be on me in any second. I stood and fired again. I felt a burning sensation rip into my left bicep and twirl me in a tight circle. I fell to the ground face first, but flipped over as fast as I could and started firing into the encroaching men. One of the men lying by the D9 sat up, shook his massive head, and raised his gun. He fired into the men from their side. It was Brian, and he was hurt but still fighting. He changed out magazines fast and kept pouring his rounds into them. Other bodies lying next to him shakily stood and gathered their weapons and added their firepower to the immediate danger.
My heart sang out with joy when I noticed one of those now firing was Julie. They must’ve been blown back and knocked out by the blast from the D 9. I looked around and saw bodies on the stairs and near the door of the house. The door was open. I dropped the M4, picked up the shotgun, and ran toward the house. My ribs and arm really hurt, but I was not going to let that stop me. I entered the house and sidestepped to my left. A round blew past my head and into the doorframe. I fired back and threw myself into the staircase. I heard a thump on the ground and risked a look around the banister down the hallway. I had hit the man standing by the basement door, throwing him against the frame of the door. He had slid to the ground, leaving a red glistening smear on the gleaming white paint. I moved down the hallway slowly, carefully looking around. I stood by the basement stairs and looked down.
“Dad, you okay?” I stage whispered down the stairs.
“I’m okay, son. I got this handled, go back outside and finish this up,” my old man answered me.
“The guy at the top of the stairs is dead, but I am leaving you his weapon. He has some magazines left on his vest. Love you, old man!”
“I love you too, kiddo, get going.”
I ran to the back door and looked out. We had bloodied the attackers, but they were still coming, just much slower than before. I was hoping that the fifteen minutes was almost up and that our reinforcements would be arriving soon. I ran back out the front door and into a more peaceful scene. “Brian, head around back. They need help. I’ll take over here.”
He threw me a thumbs up, grabbed a case of ammo, and took off for the battle raging on out back. I came up to Julie and looked her in the eyes, “You okay, babe?”
“A bit fuzzy from the little enforced nap, but am able to still shoot. You do know you’re bleeding, right?” I looked down and checked my armor. It had stopped the round there, but felt bruised. “Your arm, babe.” I looked at my left arm and found the sleeve encrusted in dried blood.
“I think I was grazed again. I’m starting to think I have a bullseye on that fucking arm.” I kissed her lips and pulled away. I had a job to do.
I went around and checked on Sharla, Cupcake, and Apache. They seemed ok, if not a little shook up. I pulled Cupcake and Apache aside and informed them about what happened to Senshi. They both took it solemnly, but didn’t let it affect them since they had a job to do. We moved our meager supplies and ammo behind the D-10 and prepared for a new attack. The tree line was covered in dead bodies and mutilated zombies. If we were going to stay here, we would have one hell of a clean up to do.
The gunfire out back intensified, then a ripping sound shattered the air. I looked up and saw Petunia’s plane rocket by, and then it turned and more of the ripping sound could be heard. I felt some of that fear start to subside. A spark of hope came roaring in. We continued to watch the tree line, but nothing appeared or shot at us. I clicked on the radio, “Vic, how we doing back there? Over.”
His reply came back quickly, “The reinforcements have arrived. They are mopping up in the rear. I think we are good. The air support will be over us soon. Over.”
“That’s great to hear. We are vigilant up here, but it’s been quiet. Over.” I looked around again and felt like we had come out of the fire singed but stronger.
The front door opened, and my dad came outside. He had a lit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and the M-4 from the dead soldier inside resting on his shoulder. He looked tired, a little stressed, but no worse for wear. He waved at me and made his way over. “Figured you guys could use me. I told the Kellens and Angel to stay in the basement. How are we doing out here?”
“The fight out back is almost over, and it’s been quiet up here,” I answered.
He pointed at his bulldozers. “What the hell happened to my D-9, boy?”
“Sorry, Dad, we needed better cover than the Humvees. Looks like the other guys didn’t appreciate the D-9, though. They hit it with two rockets. Saved everybody up here, though. At least the D-10 is fine,” I said meekly.
“As long as it served a purpose. How did you get past the locked door on the barn?” He leaned past me, and his eyes went wide when he saw the shape I left the barn in.
“Brian kicked the door open, and I didn’t have time to open the big doors. It was kind of an emergency. Sorry.”
“Things can be fixed. As long as everyone is ok.” He patted my shoulder.
The front door banged open, and Angel came running out all smiles. She shouted, “Dan, we made it!” She jumped up into my arms, and three shots tore the air apart. I was pushed back hard and felt something rip into my shoulder and chest. Angel and I tumbled to the ground. I then heard a mass amount of shots being fired.
Oh, God! No!
I fought the pain and looked down at the blood covering Angel’s back. I was having problems breathing, blood filled my mouth. I shook, but flipped her over in my arms and looked down at her little still face. Her eyes were still open and she blinked, looking back into mine. She tried to form words, but blood poured from her mouth and nose. Hot tears fell from my eyes, covering her shirt and mixing with the blood. I was really having a hard time breathing, black circles exploded in my vision. Angel raised a shaky hand to my face and rubbed my cheek, trying to wipe away my tears. More pain shot through my body. Her little body started to convulse, and she gasped once then stopped moving. I spit the blood from my mouth to the side and screamed into the sky, “No, please God, no!”
I pulled her close to my chest and sobbed, trying to hold onto consciousness. Something broke inside me, deep in my chest, deep in my soul. I could hear voices all around me. Someone was holding me and talking in my ear, “You’re gonna be ok, don’t leave me. Please.”
Darkness crept into me and pulled me down into it.
The End
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Keep watching for Zombie Theorem
The Endgame – Book 3
Fall 2016
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
James Wallace, Zombie Theorem (Book 2): The Siege
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He stared at me for a minute, then reached down into his bag and handed me two, keeping two for himself. “Vic, any of you guys have any grenades? Over.” I called over the radio.
“Yeah, we have about ten between us. Let us know when you want to throw them out. Over.”
A plan came to me then. “What do you guys think about going quiet for a second? Maybe we can sucker them in a little more? Over.”
“Roger all. Over.” We stopped firing and pushed our heads down into the dirt, hoping to not get a bullet in our brain. I peeked out and witnessed the enemy making ground on us. I clicked on the radio, “Fifteen more seconds and then let them have it. Over.”
Vic reported back his agreement. I counted off in my head and then pulled the pin on one of the grenades. I held down on the spoon as I hurried to my knees and then threw it as hard as I could into the oncoming troops. Once it left my hand, I dropped back onto my face and spread my arms and legs out like Kuppers taught me. The multiple explosions rippled through the advancing line and shredded them. I waited for a second and then went back to my knees again. Kuppers read what I was doing and followed my lead. I pulled the pin from my second grenade and threw this one like I was Orel Hershiser of the 1989 L.A. Dodgers during the World Series. I made it over the front line and into the men behind them. I barely had a chance to get back on my face before the grenade went off with devastating effects. All along the line, the enemy was shredded from shrapnel from our grenades.
I raised my MP5 and started firing above the fallen line and into the rear groups. Our line exploded in automatic fire as we tried to force the soldiers back. I was soon out of magazines for the MP5, rendering the gun useless. I had left my shotgun back at the front and had nothing but my handgun, and I was not that great of a shot. I started looking around and saw the M-14 Senshi usually carried around on the ground by the house. I unslung and disconnected my MP5 and left in on the ground while I crawled to reach the other gun. My hand finally came to rest on the metal. I pulled it over and looked it over. Next to it happened to be three loaded magazines that must have fallen with it. I snatched them up and crawled back to Kuppers. I pulled back the charging handle, unfolded the tripod in the front, and rested it on the ground. I put the stock against my shoulder and sighted down the scope. I slid my finger into the trigger guard and slowly squeezed back. The gun hammered me in the shoulder, and I saw my target’s head almost disappear into a pink mist as his helmet blew off and back into the man behind him.
My shoulder was hurting, but I ignored it and found my next target. I had no idea how many rounds I had left, or the caliber, but I kept squeezing that trigger and getting blasted into the shoulder by the stock. The bolt locked back. I turned the gun to the side and removed the magazine, replacing it with one of the others I found. I pulled back on the charging handle and resettled behind it again. Soon I was back in the fight. I was pushed into the ground hard and almost blacked out when a giant explosion rocked the ground. I turned to Kuppers, and he gave me a worried look. That explosion was at the front of the house. I left the gun I was manning and took off running for the front.
I pulled the 1911 from my thigh holster and came around the corner so fast I clipped the side of my already bruised shoulder. The D9 was on fire, and pieces of it lay on the ground around it, along with a couple of bodies. Cold ice ran through my veins, pushing out my emotions, and taking control of me. I ran for the bodies, needing to see who was hurt. I was in the zone. I hadn’t even noticed my ribs on my left side were burning. I scanned the forest line and saw men coming out from it, firing into the bulldozers and into the house and, more importantly, at me. I fired into their ranks, hitting men in legs arms and torsos. I fell to the ground, changed out my magazine, and looked over the bodies. I didn’t recognize anyone, and was relieved to find they were enemy soldiers. I saw my shotgun and dove for it on my knees. I gripped it tight, pumped it once, and came up firing into the men running in my direction. When I fired my last shot, I dropped behind the Humvee and reloaded from the side mount saddle.
I reached up and pulled the loose ammo I had left on the hood down and into my vest pouches. I reached out and picked up one of the M4s the enemy must have dropped. I wasn’t a very good shot with this gun, but I had fired one so I knew how to use it. I stood back up, seeing that the men coming out of the tree line had slowed down a bit, wary of the new threat. I looked through the scope and started firing into them. After five shots, the gun clicked empty. I dragged a body closer and rifled through his pockets, pulling out magazines. I slipped them into my pouches and loaded one into the gun. I knew the enemy had come closer and would be on me in any second. I stood and fired again. I felt a burning sensation rip into my left bicep and twirl me in a tight circle. I fell to the ground face first, but flipped over as fast as I could and started firing into the encroaching men. One of the men lying by the D9 sat up, shook his massive head, and raised his gun. He fired into the men from their side. It was Brian, and he was hurt but still fighting. He changed out magazines fast and kept pouring his rounds into them. Other bodies lying next to him shakily stood and gathered their weapons and added their firepower to the immediate danger.
My heart sang out with joy when I noticed one of those now firing was Julie. They must’ve been blown back and knocked out by the blast from the D 9. I looked around and saw bodies on the stairs and near the door of the house. The door was open. I dropped the M4, picked up the shotgun, and ran toward the house. My ribs and arm really hurt, but I was not going to let that stop me. I entered the house and sidestepped to my left. A round blew past my head and into the doorframe. I fired back and threw myself into the staircase. I heard a thump on the ground and risked a look around the banister down the hallway. I had hit the man standing by the basement door, throwing him against the frame of the door. He had slid to the ground, leaving a red glistening smear on the gleaming white paint. I moved down the hallway slowly, carefully looking around. I stood by the basement stairs and looked down.
“Dad, you okay?” I stage whispered down the stairs.
“I’m okay, son. I got this handled, go back outside and finish this up,” my old man answered me.
“The guy at the top of the stairs is dead, but I am leaving you his weapon. He has some magazines left on his vest. Love you, old man!”
“I love you too, kiddo, get going.”
I ran to the back door and looked out. We had bloodied the attackers, but they were still coming, just much slower than before. I was hoping that the fifteen minutes was almost up and that our reinforcements would be arriving soon. I ran back out the front door and into a more peaceful scene. “Brian, head around back. They need help. I’ll take over here.”
He threw me a thumbs up, grabbed a case of ammo, and took off for the battle raging on out back. I came up to Julie and looked her in the eyes, “You okay, babe?”
“A bit fuzzy from the little enforced nap, but am able to still shoot. You do know you’re bleeding, right?” I looked down and checked my armor. It had stopped the round there, but felt bruised. “Your arm, babe.” I looked at my left arm and found the sleeve encrusted in dried blood.
“I think I was grazed again. I’m starting to think I have a bullseye on that fucking arm.” I kissed her lips and pulled away. I had a job to do.
I went around and checked on Sharla, Cupcake, and Apache. They seemed ok, if not a little shook up. I pulled Cupcake and Apache aside and informed them about what happened to Senshi. They both took it solemnly, but didn’t let it affect them since they had a job to do. We moved our meager supplies and ammo behind the D-10 and prepared for a new attack. The tree line was covered in dead bodies and mutilated zombies. If we were going to stay here, we would have one hell of a clean up to do.
The gunfire out back intensified, then a ripping sound shattered the air. I looked up and saw Petunia’s plane rocket by, and then it turned and more of the ripping sound could be heard. I felt some of that fear start to subside. A spark of hope came roaring in. We continued to watch the tree line, but nothing appeared or shot at us. I clicked on the radio, “Vic, how we doing back there? Over.”
His reply came back quickly, “The reinforcements have arrived. They are mopping up in the rear. I think we are good. The air support will be over us soon. Over.”
“That’s great to hear. We are vigilant up here, but it’s been quiet. Over.” I looked around again and felt like we had come out of the fire singed but stronger.
The front door opened, and my dad came outside. He had a lit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and the M-4 from the dead soldier inside resting on his shoulder. He looked tired, a little stressed, but no worse for wear. He waved at me and made his way over. “Figured you guys could use me. I told the Kellens and Angel to stay in the basement. How are we doing out here?”
“The fight out back is almost over, and it’s been quiet up here,” I answered.
He pointed at his bulldozers. “What the hell happened to my D-9, boy?”
“Sorry, Dad, we needed better cover than the Humvees. Looks like the other guys didn’t appreciate the D-9, though. They hit it with two rockets. Saved everybody up here, though. At least the D-10 is fine,” I said meekly.
“As long as it served a purpose. How did you get past the locked door on the barn?” He leaned past me, and his eyes went wide when he saw the shape I left the barn in.
“Brian kicked the door open, and I didn’t have time to open the big doors. It was kind of an emergency. Sorry.”
“Things can be fixed. As long as everyone is ok.” He patted my shoulder.
The front door banged open, and Angel came running out all smiles. She shouted, “Dan, we made it!” She jumped up into my arms, and three shots tore the air apart. I was pushed back hard and felt something rip into my shoulder and chest. Angel and I tumbled to the ground. I then heard a mass amount of shots being fired.
Oh, God! No!
I fought the pain and looked down at the blood covering Angel’s back. I was having problems breathing, blood filled my mouth. I shook, but flipped her over in my arms and looked down at her little still face. Her eyes were still open and she blinked, looking back into mine. She tried to form words, but blood poured from her mouth and nose. Hot tears fell from my eyes, covering her shirt and mixing with the blood. I was really having a hard time breathing, black circles exploded in my vision. Angel raised a shaky hand to my face and rubbed my cheek, trying to wipe away my tears. More pain shot through my body. Her little body started to convulse, and she gasped once then stopped moving. I spit the blood from my mouth to the side and screamed into the sky, “No, please God, no!”
I pulled her close to my chest and sobbed, trying to hold onto consciousness. Something broke inside me, deep in my chest, deep in my soul. I could hear voices all around me. Someone was holding me and talking in my ear, “You’re gonna be ok, don’t leave me. Please.”
Darkness crept into me and pulled me down into it.
The End
Don’t forget the best way to show love to an author is to give it a review in Amazon.
Keep watching for Zombie Theorem
The Endgame – Book 3
Fall 2016
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
James Wallace, Zombie Theorem (Book 2): The Siege
