Chapter 109

Trudge: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse By Shawn Chesser

Day 2 - Southeast Portland

 

Rawley had himself quite a fan club. From his vantage point in Raven’s bedroom on the second floor, Cade could see at least twenty walkers around the front and sides of his neighbor’s house across the street. One of the putrid creatures was on the porch pawing at the door.

It looked like Rawley had shored up his big picture window. The bottom of the sofa was visible through the glass. Fortunately the narrow basement windows were too small for the ghouls to fit through, and the windows on the sides of the house were well above ground level.

Cade couldn’t remember what Rawley’s backyard looked like, even though he’d been to a few barbecues there. He did remember that Rawley’s hickory smoked beef ribs were awesome.

Over the years he had proven to be a pretty nice fellow. He played guitar and looked the part. His long hair was dyed black and he had full sleeve tattoos on both arms. Rawley occasionally toured with a rock band, which meant that a lot of different girls came and went from his house. Cade knew these were the perks of the lifestyle, and as far as he knew Rawley didn’t have an exclusive woman living with him.

It looked as if his plan of circling the wagons with his guitar and supplies wasn’t going to work. Rawley had been a little careless and let the walkers see him taking things in the front door.

The undead’s senses didn’t seem that adversely affected. Their movement suffered a little and their speed was usually about halved, but some were faster and some were slower.

The lone zombie on the porch had lost its infatuation with the door and started banging on the big plate window. The glass shattered with a loud report, drawing the attention of other walkers in the vicinity.

What happened next was the last thing Cade had anticipated. The front door opened and Rawley emerged with an SKS assault rifle, pregnant with a fifty round drum magazine. It was the type of rifle the two bank robbers used to outgun the police in North Hollywood in the early nineties. Rawley dispatched the one on his porch with two well-placed shots to the head. Flesh and brain matter splattered his welcome mat. Carefully aimed bullets cut down more walkers on the bottom stairs leading to the porch.

Cade had never seen Rawley mad before. Now he was channeling Rambo.

Cade left his perch at the bedroom window, went into the office and punched his PIN on the gun safe’s keypad. He pulled out his Colt M4 and four loaded thirty round magazines. It was a civilian model kitted out just like the personal weapon he used on deployment. Uncle Sam kept the fully automatic M4 when Cade left the teams.

Returning to the room that overlooked the front of the house, by feel he seated a magazine, pulled the charging handle and switched the selector to fire. Bracing the rifle against his shoulder he practiced steady controlled fire and made his contribution to the body count.

At first Rawley looked up at him with a bewildered look, but recognition dawned on his face and with renewed determination he kept on shooting.  

Ike and Leo joined Cade in the front bedroom upstairs and marveled at the shooting display. It was not planned but Cade and Rawley had the undead in a withering crossfire.

Cade yelled above the din at the two brothers. “Ike, go downstairs, load the truck in the garage with all of the canned food, and then throw in all of the dry stuff that will fit.”

Gesturing towards the open door in the hall he said “Leo, go into the office over there and take all of the ammo and magazines from the safe and throw them in this,” tossing a long black bag his way. “Do you know what a magazine looks like?”

“It’s the square thing that fits in the gun, right?”

“You got it. When everything is in the bag, have Ike help you put it in the Sequoia,” Cade said.

The two boys sprinted down the stairs. Ike stopped near the front door as a shadow moved past the living room window. Curiosity got the best of him. He reached up and pried opened the louvered wooden slats a half an inch. A gaunt gray face with milky eyes peered back at him.

Ike bolted back upstairs out of breath exclaiming, “The walkers are on the front porch now. I looked out the kitchen window and it looks like the backyard is still clear if we need to leave that way.”

Leo added, “The sound of the shooting sure is attracting a lot more of them.”

Having concluded the house wouldn’t be safe for much longer, Cade told the two boys to go downstairs, get in the truck and be ready to go.

Rawley had culled most of the undead that had his house under siege. At least fifteen of the corpses were piled around the porch. The dead girl in the bloody sundress was splayed out exposing herself in an unflattering way. She faced downstairs head first and her dress was pulled up around the top of her torso. Flip flop boy in the PBR shirt had been shot through the eye socket and now lay on the pile of corpses as well.

During a lull in the gunfire, Cade yelled loud enough so Rawley could hear him. “We are coming out in three minutes and are going to create a diversion for you!” He then entered the garage, drew his Gerber knife and cut two four-foot lengths off of the coiled garden hose hanging on the wall. “God Damn!” Cade muttered angrily to himself as he remembered he had left the ice axe strapped to his bike in the alley; it would have to stay behind. He had the two Glocks on his person. He stowed the M4 carbine up front in the truck, safety on, with the stock fully collapsed.

Cade put a second long black canvas bag containing his other rifle and tactical gear in the back of his truck. A box marked Camping Gear held the headlamps, a pair of two-way radios, Bushnell armored binoculars and a camp stove. Next went the tent and three sleeping bags which they tossed unceremoniously into the back of the truck. Lastly he threw two empty five gallon potable water containers on top of everything and closed the door.

Peering through the small glass windows lining the top of the garage door, he saw that the bulk of the remaining walkers were now on his porch and trampling the front yard. A very large ghoul was trudging up the driveway. A pair of walkers leaned on the front window and fell into the living room riding a wave of shattered glass. The smell of death permeated his home.

Cade climbed into the truck and turned the key in the ignition. The V8 rumbled to life. He punched the remote button that started the garage door’s plodding upward movement. Achingly slow, it revealed the sunny outside and the giant rotting roadblock standing five feet away. He was missing most of his left arm. With each step the stub twitched like a dog’s cropped tail. Along with the arm, most of the flesh was missing from one leg leaving the white femur and kneecap exposed, all the while lending to his slow gait.

At first sight of the truck and its occupants, the one armed gargantuan started moaning excitedly, alerting the other walkers of his find.

The ghouls swarmed inside the house through the broken front window, spilled into the garage and began banging on the back of the SUV.

“Go, go, go….!” Ike screamed hysterically from the back seat of the Sequoia, staring eye to eye with Cade’s dead next door neighbor, Dave. Judging from his condition, he wasn’t here to borrow tools. 

The instant the door was fully opened, Cade gunned the truck forward. Several undead now flanked the driveway. They pawed at the closed side windows as the three ton truck sucked the muscular one armed ghoul under the front skid guard; its skull popped like an overripe melon as a rear wheel rolled over it.

Cognizant of the ghoul-filled garage behind them, he stopped the SUV momentarily to survey the scene across the street. There was no sign of Rawley.