John Lowardi's Story

Sergeant Henderson

Henderson missed most of what was happening in the truck behind him as he knelt, taking careful aim, breathing evenly, as he fired all thirty rounds in his clip, thirty head shots, his training was paying off. He popped the exhausted clip from his assault rifle, handing automatically finding a new one and slamming it home.

He swept the area with the night vision scope and realized that they had a few precious minutes before any more of the creatures reached them, though he could see the entire horde from the 112 exit starting to spill down the embankment towards them, their moans loud enough to drown out much of the shouting behind him.

He slung the assault rifle and turned, helping to pull the survivors of the crash from the truck. A glance inside revealed a couple of causalities and he grimaced as he snapped at the others to leave them alone.

“Leave the dead! They will buy us some time.” Those words to the man who had addressed him as “hot shot”. Then to the rest of the survivors, raising his voice so they could all hear him, he continued. “Gather your gear and follow me.”

He plunged down the bank into the icy water, pausing long enough to haul his rucksack from the truck cab and un-racking the shotgun which he slung next to his assault rifle. Then he splashed his way towards the far bank, the water was not more than four feet deep but godamn was it cold!

He unclipped his pistol, fixed a flashlight to the bottom, and began to head further into the darkness. The moon, though weak, revealed a cluster of buildings nearby and if they could find shelter on a second story they might have a chance to hide until morning. With luck the undead would be too busy with the still warm bodies in the truck. If not… Well, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Come on folks, keep together, those with weapons, do NOT fire until you are 100% sure there is a zombie out there. Any gunfire will attract attention.”

He waited for the nods of agreement before turning and plunging into the field, his red flashlight lighting just enough path for him to see what was ahead. In the distance loomed potential salvation. They had to reach it, and fast.

Luca slung the satchel onto his back, wincing as a few stabs of pain shot through his body. If he survived this, he was probably going to have some lovely bruises over the next few days.

He followed the older man who had taken lead of the terrified group, and he leapt into the water. The icy chill forced the air from his lungs in a loud exhalation of shock, this water was freezing cold! He pushed through the water and struggled up onto the bank, his teeth chattering now from the cold.

Weapons... His knife. Where was it? His numb fingers fumbled to remove the knife from the side pocket of his bag, it might not be the best thing to use to fight these things... but it was better than nothing. Luca just kept wishing he would wake up, that this was all just a really, really bad and really vivid dream. Sadly, he doubted that was going to happen.

In the distance there seemed to be buildings, perhaps they could hide there? It seemed the guy who was ahead of the group had already spotted it.

"How... how kill them?" He stammered through chattering teeth. He'd not killed one of these things before, and he had no idea how -to- do it.

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

"Let's go." Was all Jeff muttered to say.

She gave him a slight nod, heading away from the woman who had just been stabbed. Alex chose not to look back. She didn't blame Jeff for his actions; times had changed, and if this was the only way to fix it, so be it.

"You did the right thing." She addressed him, tilting her head in his direction.

Alex guided the group forward, every so often checking her surroundings to see if there were any lurking Roamers nearby. So far, the group had come in close contact with two of the creatures. One had attacked Alex, the other one had bitten a helpless woman who eventually ended up dying by the hands of Jeff. If Alex was ever bitten, she would choose to be stabbed, most likely shot, too. It was the good way to go. She wouldn't want to be trapped inside a lifeless body who roamed the Earth aimlessly. She wouldn't have any purpose to life anymore. She would be nothing.

The buildings were becoming closer now with each stride. She wondered what they were once used for. Houses? Apartments? She liked to imagine normalcy amid the crisis. It was nice, maybe even relaxing to think back to how things were before. But one question remained; were there any people left inside of the buildings? Probably not, but hope was one of the few things Alex had left to hold onto.

---

An hour had passed, perhaps and hour and a half. The group was beginning to grow tired as they made they approached some type of nearby farmland. It had been a long walk through the creek, and a mile back they had finally exited it and made it into a dirt road. She could practically kiss the ground.

Above her stood an abandoned, but very large barn. She wondered if the outbreak hadn't hit less-known areas as badly. Because of the amount of people and how fast the pathogen could spread, her predicament was probably right.

"Okay everyone," She turned gathering the group's attention towards her. "We need to stay quiet. We don't know if there are any Roamers nearby." She looked over her shoulder, glimpsing the outline of the barn once more. The poor crowd needed refuge from the long trek to safety. Maybe they should set up camp and rest. She faced the group. "I think we should take shelter for the night as we wait for The Sergeant. Those who can shoot, make sure to surround the group as we enter."

Taking her pistol out from the backside of her pants, she brought it to her eye-level, carefully walking into the barn. The place was lifeless, cold, and miserable. The group proceeded through, eyeing their way over scattered debris. Alex kept a close eye out for Roamers. So far, there had been no cries or wails in the darkness. She only prayed it stayed that way.

After a few minutes of scoping out the place, Alex guided the group into the dormant barn. Hay had been laid across the ground, and in the corner sat a rusty ladder which could lead the group up into the wooden loft above them. Typical farmer's supplies was scattered about the area.

She had a plan, and she was going to use it.

"We'll make sure that any Roamers can't make it through by blocking the entrance. Night shifts will also be distributed to those who can use a weapon. Those who have a weapon will guard through the night, switching off every hour or so before Sarge gets here."

She met the eyes of worn out faces. "Hopefully this place is safe." She thought in her mind.

"By the time The Sarge gets here, we'll figure out what to do next. For now, let's set up camp." She sighed, taking a deep breath. "Try to find anything that will support you and others as a bed. Any source of food would be nice, too."

"Sarge, you better get here. And fast." She thought.

The walk was long and painful. He was used to being on his feet all day, but not in a wet heavy feet. His steel toe boots were soaked to the bone. He could feel his feet starting to crack. Zac didn't care about what anybody else thought he was changing his socks when they reached dry land. He kept his arm raised to slow the bleeding, but he could feel the blood dripping off his elbow. He kept his finger away from the trigger to prevent any accidental shots. He didn't need to be surrounded by psycho's right now. His arm was like the freaking dinner bell.

He kept to the back of the group. Figuring if anything would happen it might as well be to him. He was already wounded. The only person who would miss him was Alex. His thoughts turned towards her. He looked around and saw nobody was even paying the least bit of attention to him. He shrugged and decided now was a great time to talk to himself.

"So, we're screwed right? Yeah, but look at this way; I got a great nurse tending to me. If everything was normal you wouldn't have even talked to her. She is definately out of my league. What makes you think she's even interested in a person to you." Zac was actually having fun talking to himself. He hadn't done it in a while. It felt relaxing.

"Well, she thinks I'm funny and her options at this point aren't really the greatest. So, you think the fact that the human race failing is the ultimate form of romance. Yup, it's official your crazy." Zac couldn't believe he lost an argument with himself. He decided to shut up and keep walking.

When the group finally hit dry land Zac immediately dropped down on his ass and took off his shoes. He ripped off his socks and threw them on a nearby rock to dry. He opened his bag and grabbed a fresh pair. He pulled them apart and slipped them on his feet.

"Oh god, I never knew that a pair of socks could feel so good." Zac exclaimed as he laid back.

Luca was used to being on his feet a lot, it came with the lifestyle. What he wasn't used too, was the panic and the fear and everything that came along with it. His entire body was shaking now from the fear, and the cold; probably a touch of shock too. The voices around him of the others were kind of fuzzy, blurry. Luca couldn't make out words, only who the sounds belonged too. Sort of.

He pressed on, moving with the group, not straying or making barely a sound. The chattering of his teeth were almost louder than his heart pounding in his chest. His feet felt awful, his socks were soggy and making squechly sounds. They'd be kicked off once they had somewhere safe to hide.

The roamers that were stumbling towards the ground terrified him and he just gripped his knife a little tighter. If they got too close, he'd have to stab them. Somewhere. All he wanted to do right now was to curl up in a ball and hide until this was all over.

Henderson was glad that the girl was in front of him, she wouldn't see him stumble in the dark as the exhaustion of days events started to catch up him. He was a strong man, physically and mentally fit, but thirteen hours of driving plus the past two hours of panic and terror were taking their toll.

The grass around them made gently swishing sounds as they passed, the occasional twig snapping or panicked flight of some ground nesting bird the only sound other than their breathing and foot falls. The breeze at least was warm and he felt comfortable enough despite his damp clothing and 60 pounds of equipment on his back. Some of it would have to go, he realized that now, the pack was to big and unwieldy to have on at all times, plus the assortment of weapons he carried would surely get in the way at some point.

Several times the girl turned to speak and he mimed shooting her again, glad she had finally taken the hint. That same thought came with a rush of self criticism though. It wasn't far to expect the people of truck eighteen to handle the situation well, he was the only one amongst them with any sort of training and he realized that he would need to be more patient when dealing with them.

Finally the girl had taken enough silence and whispered an introduction. He thought for a moment then replied in a whisper almost to quiet for her to hear.

"Sergeant, or Sarge will do ma'am."

Before she could ask another question he held up a hand and signalled for her to kneel as he did the same. Something was moving swiftly towards them through the undergrowth. He levelled the pistol, unsure of what would come, almost certain it was no zombie for they did have the welcome habit of moaning whenever they detected prey. Instead of shooting though, he almost cried out for joy when the shape resolved itself into Gunner, tongue hanging out, tail wagging as Henderson whispered praise in his ear and pulled a soggy, but much appreciated, treat from his combat pant pocket.

The farm wasn't far ahead now but before he could say anything to Jenifer the sound of gunshots echoed flat and clear across the fields, low moans filling the air at once. He waited but no more shots came however and no screams, whoever had done the shooting was either dead or escaped. He hoped it was the second one. He knelt next to Jenifer, his mouth almost to ear, aware suddenly of the perfume she was wearing.

"Jenifer, you need to listen carefully to me. We are going to try and make it to those buildings." He gestured in the dark towards the distant structures. "I am going to lead, you follow me, and for the love of whatever god you believe in, do not make a noise or we're both dead. Understand?'

Once she had nodded he shrugged his rucksack off and carefully re-slung his weapons so they would not impede his movement. Then he unstrapped a small folding shovel from the side of his pack and slowly clipped it open. He tested the edges of it, still as sharp as when he'd honed the edge while waiting for the truck to leave.

He took her small slender hand in his, and with Gunner stalking silently next to them , began a slow approach on the farmhouse. He wasn't entirely sure how zombies detected human presence but he wasn't going to make it any easier and so went slow and quiet.

They came across the first zombie a hundred yards from the house, the vast majority of them were clustered beneath the nearby silo, he could hear their fists beating on the metal and see where they had started to stack slightly as they climbed on top of each other to reach whoever was up there. He also caught movement on the second floor of the barn, a terrified facing peeking out quickly before ducking back inside.

The first zombie wasn't even aware of their approach as it stumbled towards the silo and Henderson moved swiftly, releasing Jenifers hand to slam the shovel blade down into the creatures skull. It gave one hideous spasm and then dropped at his feet. He dragged the blade free, cleaned it carefully on the grass and then grasped Jenifers hand again, leading her to the wall of the house.

The zombies arriving were fewer now, their moans drowning out any other noise as Henderson dispatched two more with quick blows to the head. Only once were they spotted but the zombies moans were lost amongst all the others and he allowed it to follow him into the space between the house and barn before killing it quickly.

Spade cleaned once again he knelt at the corner of the barns far side, Jenifer pressed close behind him, and scanned the open space. No zombies appeared here and he could see the doors to the barn, a small man door and two massive sliding doors. If the rest of truck eighteens survivors had made it he hoped they would be smart enough to have climbed to the second floor and removed any access, which presented a problem as much to him as zombies.

"Keep close." He hissed at Jenifer and repeated the words in a foreign language to the dog who instantly sank into a belly crawl at his heel and as one the three of them crept slowly along the side of the barn. They arrived at the big sliding doors first and he could see at once they were locked from the inside by a chain. He peered through the crack but couldn't see anything in the darkness of the barn.

The small man door was next and he found it unlocked, gently opening it, the sound of the click muffled by the moans outside. He urged Jenifer and Gunner inside before closing it just as quietly behind them, taking a 2x4 and propping it so the door couldn't be opened again from outside.

The three waited for a moment in the darkness before Henderson motioned for Jenifer to wait as he hoisted himself into the rafters. He could hear frightened whispers now and the sound of movement.

"Truck eighteen." He called quietly. Nothing. He tried again, louder this time.

Jenifer was a bit irritated when Sarge didn't reveal his true name. She hated nicknames, titles, or whatever else that's used to replace a person's name. Before she could ask another question, Sarge motioned for her to kneel down. Jenifer grunted, following his command. Once her knee made contact with the ground, Jenifer heard what Sarge was hearing. Something was heading towards them quickly. When Sarge leveled his pistol, fear struck Jenifer, and the need to scream arose in her system.

A black dog emerged from the dark and Sarge looked like he was about to burst with joy. They had a little reunion party, which Jenifer kind of admired. She was about to comment on how cute she thought the dog was when the sound of gunshots fired through the air.

Sarge focused Jenifer's attention on him and told her that they were going to head towards the distant buildings in the darkness. When he mentioned that they were both dead if she made a noise, Jenifer's heart began to beat much more swiftly. That little task she was given already seemed too much to handle. She nodded anyways and Sarge began to fix and adjust his weaponry. A folding shovel was one of the weapons he had and Jenifer started to become more afraid of the incoming events. Sarge took her hand and they began their journey to the others of Truck Eighteen.

What came next dashed by to Jenifer. All she could remember was Sarge attacking a zombie with a shovel and that's it; everything else was a giant blur. She was urged into darkness with Sarge's dog and soon Sarge joined them. They all waited in darkness for a short moment. Jenifer could hear muffled voices inside the building they were in.

Sarge called out for Truck Eighteen. When he got no response, he repeated. Jenifer observed the darkness, trying to see if she could make out any human bodies.

"Hello?" whispered Jenifer, shortly after Sarge's second call. His dog snuggled close to her legs, making Jenifer feel safe for just a short moment.