OUTNUMBERED volume 3: A Zombie Apocalypse Series (5 page)

Kira and Vivian both spoke at once, but Kira continued alone. "Grace, stop feeling so sorry for yourself and be happy for the chance you have here. Learn to adjust and roll with the punches. As for rape, I was captured by a group of asshole outlaws last year. I was beaten, raped and sodomized. They planned to feed me to the zombies after the entire group of at least a dozen was finished having rough, perverted sex with me."

Not deterred, Grace replied, "What about you Viv? I've got you pegged as having the easy rich life."

"Rich your ass, child. My parents in Mexico were poor to the point of starving. They sent me to the US when I was twelve to live with relatives. I was smuggled into the country illegally. When I was sixteen I thought I knew everything about life. I met a guy and got pregnant. He was twenty-three. My aunt and uncle raised the little boy because I ran off with my boyfriend." The talking stopped. "If either of you repeat what I'm about to tell you I'll kill you and then hate you forever. My boyfriend, he was a lazy, drunken bastard and pimped me out on the streets of L.A. He made me his puta, his private whore. I've been a prostitute since I was seventeen. I've been beaten, raped and forced to do tricks with multiple guys or get coat hangered. Do you know what I'm speaking of, Little One? No? Well that's when your pimp has his friends gangbang you as rough as they want anyway they want. While they're doing you, he takes a wire coat hanger and pulls it out straight so it's two stiff wires. Then his friends put you on your back and hold you down while they spread your legs apart. With the coat hanger, he beats your thighs and keeps working upward to your womanhood. Then your belly and breasts get whipped, and it starts all over again until he's sure you get the message. By then you're screaming bloody murder, crying and begging him to stop and promising you'll do anybody anyway he tells you. And all the while, he and his friends are laughing because they're high and don't give a god damn about you. You only think you've had it rough, child. Buck up and stop whining. Make something of yourself before you get tossed out of here. The luckiest thing that ever happened to me before Deliverance was being taken to Seattle where I was put to work as a high class call girl. This is the best life I've ever seen because they treat me good and nobody messes with my body or my head."

Grace started apologizing, and I detected a little blubbering in her voice as I made my way out of the barn. I hadn't been meant to hear their exchange and it would remain a secret forever.  At the south end of the barn, I yelled for the ladies before I approached to ask them to work with Vince and be his protection.

I went out in the alfalfa field and inspected the crumpled zombies. Two of the seven had been the fast runners; they were full-bodied and looked human except for the redness in their eyes and the missing chunks of flesh where they'd been bitten to death before turning. None of us had any idea of what was happening with the newer zombies or how far the transformation could go. As usual, we'd have to wait, watch, and learn.

~*~*~*~

Throughout the summer months, we increased our food gathering excursions in an attempt to stay ahead of the consumption of our fifty members. We'd taken to opening outer boxes onsite to inspect the contents rather than haul them back to Deliverance only to dump the cases anyway. Often whole pallets were ruined. Many of the containers that were liquid packed had frozen, burst, and leaked during last year's hard winter. Often the boxes weakened to the point the entire three or four high stacked pallets toppled over. Without consistent roof maintenance and repair for the last four years, some roofs leaked badly allowing rain water to soak the boxes and ruin the contents. Items like dry pasta often became mush from being wet for six or more months.

Our past method of recording and tracking each store we'd visited and noting the conditions of the items we'd found became even more important. As our list of stores to skip grew longer so did the distance we had to travel to new sources of food. By now, human scavengers such as ourselves had cleaned out the nearby food stuffs in Iowa, as well as the nearby border towns in Illinois, Missouri, Nebraska, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Kansas. Instead of driving a hundred miles, we were forced to drive two and three times further. We suspected the same thing happened in most states as survivors competed for food and struggled to stay alive. Traveling farther for food added wear on our vehicles and consumed more gallons of fuel. Three additional Ford pickups and two more Excursions were acquired off abandoned dealer's lots to supplement the larger group of people at Deliverance. Driving more vehicles farther demanded more frequent runs with the fuel truck. Some of the storage tanks we'd used in the past were empty or had slowly become contaminated. Albert Gonzales suggested trying the big above ground storage tanks at Keck Energy in Des Moines. That had been a great inspiration because there were many hundreds of thousands of gallons in the gasoline and diesel tanks he identified. Hopefully, the tanks would offer a bountiful supply for years to come.

Our huge gardens represented an experiment on one hand and a definite necessity on the other. That it was imperative we learn to feed ourselves, was a given. But how far could we afford to continue to use modern technology to enhance output? One member suggested we set a diesel pump at the lake and run a three or four inch pipe to the gardens for irrigation. Another wanted to use commercial fertilizer, insecticides and repellants, and weed control products as long as they were available.

The leadership committee circulated among all of our members to explain that we should get used to depending on natural rainfall, and if we used modern chemical methods until the supply of them was expended we could be left with a severe food shortage as we learned to cope. We convinced them the hard way was a wiser choice now, until we got it right, while we had backup food supplies. They finally agreed, even if some did so grudgingly. As a compromise, we agreed to use pumped water and chemicals on half our fields and grow the others naturally to learn how to deal with the environment and insects.

The harvest season tapered to a close, but it had gone well. The canning process for fruits and vegetables peaked as we strove to stock enough food to see us through the upcoming winter. We sampled a lot of our handiwork and were well satisfied with the results. The real test would be to see how it fared over a winter and maybe even two or more years.

Food handling work caused manpower shortages throughout the summer and early fall and all but curtailed foraging trips. With late fall approaching, those were soon to be restarted.

CHAPTER THREE

O
n a Tuesday morning thirty minutes after the sun rose, everyone was up and most had finished with breakfast.

Zeb Halcom was on duty in the southeast watch tower when I heard him call Verlie on the radio. "Momma, do you see movement on your side at the edge of the woods? I don't think it's zombies, looks more like humans sneaking around. It's almost like they're taking up positions to fight; one dropped down behind a felled log and several are hiding behind big tree trunks. All of them are wearing military camo uniforms, and they're armed with assault rifles."

"This is Momma, Zeb. I'm seeing the same thing on the west side, and I guess there are about ten or more. They just started moving through the trees and brush half a minute ago."

Zeb cut in. "That's about the same number I've seen, maybe a dozen. Tom, Shane, you guys catch that?"

I replied, "Good work, both of you. Don't sound the alarm. Stay down below the steel reinforcement so they can't shoot you. Since they might not know they've been spotted you've switched surprise from their side to our side."

"Shane, Ed, John, Andrea, Morgan, Ira and Shana. Check in." All seven replied then waited for my directions. "Shana, get all ten children to the safe room. Ed, get some heavy duty weapons up to the second floor. I don't know what’s going on or what to expect, so get prepared for the worst. The rest of us will move everyone else upstairs to battle stations. The entire first level needs to be clear in ten minutes. Morgan, when you get upstairs check the four ammo storage bins and make sure there's plenty for a long siege. These guys don't appear to be here to sell us raffle tickets. Andrea, seek out Elsie and tell her to get a headcount ASAP to ensure everyone is upstairs. Ira, get Marcie and set up an emergency hospital in one of the interior rooms upstairs. That's it, let’s move. Until we know differently, prepare to be under attack."

Foot traffic on the four stairways became hectic as people carried rifles and spare magazines and boxes of ammunition for their specific weapon to the second floor. Andrea, Marilyn Deutsch, and two of the Halcom girls packed large trays of roast beef, cheeses, home made bread and condiments up the stairs.

Ed wore stern features as he plowed a path to the elevator carrying two Barrett M82A1 50 caliber rifles with night scopes. Behind him four young men and women he'd commandeered carried two M24 sniper rifles in their heavy black plastic cases and two of the older model SMAW rocket propelled grenade launchers. As I neared a stairway, I looked toward the elevator and saw Ed and two of his mules run with enthusiasm back in the direction of the underground heavy weapons armory. An ammo run I guessed. The elevator cage rose, and the two ladies escorted the weapons to the second floor.

Upstairs I encountered organized confusion. Everyone looked grim as they went to their assigned stations. No one knew what to expect. I started directing people to battle stations or to stand by over by the food storage area and wait to be assigned.

Verlie called me on the radio. "Two tank-looking vehicles are coming up the driveway. The first one is tan and the other is painted in camouflage patterns."

"Tom," Zeb called, "the first one is a Humvee and the second is, I think, an armored personnel carrier like big city SWAT teams use."

"Thanks, Zeb. You and Verlie get out of the watch towers and work with the rest of us. You make tempting target hanging out there. If they have any heavy weapons I bet they'll be inclined to take those guard towers out first just to show us they can."

The two vehicles approached slowly. The Humvee stopped a hundred feet from the gate; it looked familiar. I was sure I'd seen that particular vehicle before. If it belonged to who I thought it did that bothered me. The second vehicle stayed back another hundred feet. I watched through a gunport as a slender, brown haired, man was pushed from the Humvee, fell to the ground, and rolled. The APC behind it looked like an older model BearCat with medium grade armor. I grabbed a pair of binoculars and checked out the machine guns on each vehicles. The Humvee mounted a M249 5.56mm light machine gun on top and would be fired manually. The BearCat sported a heavier M240 7.62 mm. automated machine gun controlled from inside. We could match either one, and I knew Ed well enough to know he'd think of a way to take the BearCat completely out. Another man exited the passenger side of the Humvee. He wore full military garb, from his boots with bloused pants up to his cap. Captain's bars adorned his shirt collars. A big black man, early forties, tall and stocky but not fat. I panned to the other man who rose from the ground. I couldn't believe it. Nate Robard had lost about one-hundred-fifty pounds and was dressed in faded, torn camo pants and shirt. He stood and received a harsh shove toward the gate where a hand held radio rested in a weatherproof box. His right hand sported a bloody bandage, and he carefully favored the hand.

I heard Nate's wavering voice on my radio earpiece. "Tom Jacobs. This is Nate Robard. I'm a prisoner of these men. Captain Williams wants to talk to you."

Ed looked grim as he passed me with one of the RPG units. He motioned up with his left thumb. He climbed up a fixed ladder to the metal roof and would open one of the sliding hatches we'd installed as a safety feature. Chain ladders were installed at each of the six openings, so they could be tossed over the side to reach the ground. Only Ed had no intention of escaping. One of Ed's mules followed right behind him carrying a hank of rope and two armor piercing rockets. As I stared, another mule, a female Halcom, carried two more rockets by me.

An arrogant voice thundered in my earpiece. "Jacobs. This is Captain Ephraim Williams. My soldiers are here to take over your facility. If you don't comply, I'll kill Mr. Robard and his entire family when we overrun your position."

"What makes you think we can't fight back, Captain?"

"Mr. Robard was kind enough, with some harsh interrogation methods, to describe your headquarters in sufficient detail that I know the machine guns on my two APCs will blast through the steel siding of that building like it's sliced cheese. Don't attempt to play games with me, Mr. Jacobs, because I'm not a man to be trifled with. You have approximately twenty-four fighting people, half of whom are women and teenagers. The rest are children. Surely you don't want all of them injured or killed, do you? If your group surrenders and leaves now there will be no bloodshed or loss of life. I'm waiting for your answer, and I'm not a patient man."

"We're a democracy, sir. I'll need time to gather our people and give them your ultimatum. I expect to be back shortly." Through the binoculars I saw the big blow ass smirk confidently as he hung our radio on his belt and stood with his chest pushed out and legs spread apart as he studied at our compound.

Ed hollered down that he was ready when I was. I clicked my radio knowing Williams could hear me. In a subdued shaky voice I said. "Folks, we have a bad situation. We're badly outnumbered and outgunned. I need everyone except Shana and the children to assemble immediately above door nine to discuss our likely surrender to the forces outside." I hoped Williams didn't catch the reference to above door nine instead of at door nine. Surely his mind would hang on my words of surrender. In minutes everyone assembled. Most wore looks of confusion.

"Turn off all radios, please.... Are they off? Double check." Nods and yeses assured we wouldn't inadvertently tell Williams my plan. "First, we will not surrender. These madmen expect us to walk out and turn Deliverance over to them without a fight. That's not going to happen. That radio transmission was for the benefit of the scumbag outside." Grins quickly replaced the frowns and confused looks I'd caused earlier. "I want the two portable M240 machineguns, on the stands Ed designed, placed on the east and west sides near the center of the building. Disperse the four M249 squad machineguns on either side toward the ends of the building. Does anyone not remember the equipment you're assigned to? For you new people, those shelves installed at each gun port are for the M249 bipods to rest on."

"Ed will take out the far vehicle first with an armor piercing RPG. Don't stick any rifle barrels through the gun ports until the first rocket fires. When you hear it fire, everyone is to lay down a barrage of rounds at the people concealed in the woods. They need to be wounded, killed, or pinned down so Ed can make a second shot at the Humvee closest to the gate. That takes out both of their mobile machineguns. Ed's vulnerable up at the roof because there's no armor plating to protect him. He has the most dangerous job of all, and we need to provide heavy cover fire for at least twenty seconds after the second rocket fires to allow him time to get back down here."

I hesitated and looked to Vera Robard. "Nate is at the front gate. The head of this group insinuated Nate was tortured to make him reveal information about our layout so they could attack us. Only when Nate was here, he didn't take an interest in the facility, so I'm guessing he couldn't tell them much. Also, we added the steel armor to the second floor, and Morgan's bunch joined us after Nate left, so we have many more defenders than they expect. Plus, only a few people knew the extent of the heavy weapons arsenal we have. I don't blame Nate for cooperating with them, and we'll attempt to avoid shooting him. But he could get hit since he may be in a cross fire between us and the attackers."

Vera appeared uncomfortable with the news and simply nodded. Her M16 was held loosely in both hands. Elsie put her arm around Vera and hugged her close.

I scanned the group in general. "I personally am going to target the blow ass leader of this group when the shooting starts. Are there any questions?"

Ever the clown, Martin Radcliff Jr. asked, "What time is lunch being served?"

We all chuckled. Martin Sr. shook his head and rolled his eyes upward.

I turned to Ed. "When you're ready, do it. We'll cover you. Good luck, Pal."

Ed trudged toward the ladder as he said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Fire in the hole within five minutes at the most. Be ready to lay heavy fire to protect my big ass."

I barely remembered, "Turn the radios back on. We need to be able to communicate."

My position on the south end of the building put me under the Deliverance sign mounted in the gable on that end of the building. Ed would be almost directly above me. Through a gunport I watched Williams pace back and forth with his head held high, arms folded on his chest, sure of his dominance. The impatient, arrogant twit was about to be taken down hard.

I called Williams on the radio, "Sir, we'll need a few minutes to gather our personal belongings. It shouldn't take over ten minutes."

My mind drifted as we waited. I stood two feet from the gun port watching Williams. Our situation was still dangerous. If William's force was comprised of ex-special forces, mercenaries, or even regular trained armed forces personnel, some of us could be wounded or killed. Simply because we held the important element of surprise on our side didn't mean this was a slam dunk win for our people. I thought of the other thirty-nine people on the second floor with me, and I dreaded having to deal with any of them being injured or killed. And the responsibility was all mine. I didn't ask for their buy-in. I assumed, right or wrong, that all of them felt as I did, and giving up our home and refuge was unthinkable.

Abruptly, the roaring blast of a rocket shrieking out of its launch tube shook me out of my morose mood. I raised the M14 to my shoulder, stuck several inches of the barrel out the shooting port and sighted on Williams. He'd looked up to our roof when the rocket launched, but then spun on his heels toward the armored vehicles. The BearCat exploded, sending metal and human body fragments flying upward in a ball of smoke and flames. Williams stood with his back to me, body frozen in place, arms open wide and extended toward the sky. My rifle belched fire and lead toward his spine, starting slightly above his hips and walking upward to his neck in five shots. The warlord wannabe collapsed in a lifeless heap onto the ground.

The noise in our confined space was deafening as thirty-four of us lay a withering wave of destruction toward the cover of the woods to give Ed time for another shot. Above the din we created, bullets smacked the sheet metal and steel plating like hail on a tin roof. I shifted my scope and found Nate hunkered tight to the ground as close as he could get to the chain-link fence surrounding our compound. I hoped he'd stay there with his head down and one arm wrapped around his head for protection. I shifted to the Humvee and fired at a man who rose through a roof panel to man the machinegun. He got off a short burst before I hit him in the chest twice. A split second later, a hole appeared in the Humvee's windshield as a rocket crashed through. Almost simultaneously, the old, lightly armored vehicle flew apart with body panels screaming fifty feet into the air amid flame, smoke and burnt, spit-sized offerings of the scum who'd shot at us.

Everyone slacked off the rapid fire sequence a full half minute after the sound of the second explosion. They began carefully placing shots at specific targets. For ten minutes we traded shots. The attacker's bullets continued to pound the half-inch steel plating recently installed, but the intensity began to lag as the attackers numbers dwindled.

A radio transmission stated, "Eli Allbee is down, he's dead." A minute later Zeb sadly announced, "Momma, Daddy, Morgan Jr. got hit. He's gone."

I winced at the loss. Eli and Morgan were both good guys. But I couldn't spend time mourning dead men now.

Ed stood close beside me and spoke, "Something strange is going on. Before I made the first shot I saw people jogging through the woods coming this way from the county road. At first, I thought reinforcements were on the way for these guys attacking us, but I was mistaken. Fast running zombies have slipped up behind those paramilitary guys. Let's step to the west side and see what the hells going on."