Chapter 120

Trudge: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse By Shawn Chesser

Day 2 - Wahkeena Falls, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon

 

Cade, Rawley, Leo and Ike were about to get back on the road when the obese undead woman made her appearance. The soaked clothing she wore left a wet trail behind her as she slowly plodded towards them. Cade shouldered his M4 rifle and aimed at the ghoul’s forehead. He still couldn’t distance himself enough from the fact that these things had once been someone’s mom, dad, sister, kids... especially the kids.

Shooting the zombie kids was ten times harder than killing his undead neighbors Ted and Lisa. What amazed Cade was that he actually felt empathy for who the undead used to be. He found the longer he was removed from active duty and running ops, the more emotions began to manifest in him when he was forced to defend himself.

When Cade arrived in country during his first tour in Iraq, he had an internal giddy anticipation of what combat was going to be like. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t just a little curious about what it would feel like to kill another man. His questions were answered within a week of being on the ground.

The patrol Cade was on was supposed to be a routine daylight show of force. Six up-armored Humvees and the squad of Rangers were ordered to patrol a series of canals in the El-Anbar province. Mortars had been lobbed from the area the night before. They were going to bang on some doors and search some hovels looking for weapons or caches of explosives. They were on an elevated canal road when the Humvee in front of them disappeared in a cloud of fine dust and black smoke. The convoy halted. Their escape from the kill zone was limited because of the water-filled irrigation ditches on each side of the road. RPGs sailed over the Humvee with their telltale whooshing sound. The distinctive rattle of AK-47’s and PKR belt fed machine guns entered the fray. All hell was breaking loose. The radio operator was calmly calling for Apache gunships and any available aviation assets to provide close air support.

A cacophony of fire from the turret mounted Ma-Deuce, M2 .50 caliber machine guns added to the decibel level. Cade was scanning his sector from his rear passenger window. A group of three insurgents in their traditional man dresses were crouched down and fumbling with what appeared to be a twelve volt car battery. The wires snaked atop the ground near the men and then dove under the sand, emerging near the dirt berm two meters from his Humvee. Without hesitation Cade sighted on the insurgents through the ACOG scope attached to his M4 carbine. In the split second it took him to acquire them with the scope he ascertained that the men were trying to attach wires to the battery; Cade guessed they had failed to detonate one of the roadside IEDs on their first attempt.

For Cade, everything slowed down and his senses were heightened. He felt a super awareness wash over him. He could see the three very clearly through the magnified scope and they were fully aware they were going to meet their maker. A surprised look registered on the nearest insurgent’s face as the bullets tore into him and caused him to crumple over the battery, wires still in hand. The other two terrorists ignored their comrade’s act of martyrdom, rolled his body away and continued on with the task. Cade admired their tenacity, realizing that they were trying to finish the job they had started. He sighted on the man holding the wires and shot him three times in center mass. The fatal 5.56 hardball broke apart upon impact and tumbled through his body shredding muscle, lung and intestine before lodging in his liver. The remaining man tried to detonate the bomb. He was furiously clicking something with both hands when the Ranger to Cade’s right killed him with a sustained burst from his M-249 SAW. The tango’s body folded over backwards at an unusual angle.

The whump, whump, whump sound of the Apache gunship’s rotor blades filled the air. Another insurgent materialized from the canal. He was looking up, searching for the source of the hated sound when a three round burst from Cade’s rifle struck him in the throat and chin, effectively ending his ability to wage jihad. The Apache gunship orbited overhead, the continuous fire from its nose-mounted cannon decimating the rest of the attackers.

In the end, two of their Humvee gun trucks were destroyed and they suffered four KIA, all from the lead vehicle. Six more soldiers were wounded gravely enough to warrant being medivacked. 

In the aftermath of the ambush the Explosive Ordinance Disposal experts confirmed that the wires were indeed affixed to two 120mm mortar shells intended to destroy the other vehicles stranded on the berm by the first destroyed Humvee. Cade’s quick thinking and precise fire saved the rest of his squad from certain destruction and earned him a Bronze Star in the process. He also learned that day, to his relief, that he derived no pleasure from killing another human being. He did, however, feel no remorse over taking an enemy combatant’s life.

Wahkeena Falls

Cade put the scope to his eye; the female walker’s pasty white form filled the reticle. A single shot to the forehead dropped her body to the gravel path.

Eat, feed, want..., eat, feed, want..., eat, feed, want.... It was the mantra of the living dead, the cadence drumming autonomously from the instinct-driven part of his brain. He possessed no memories, feelings, or true desires. That part of his brain died when he did. The only urge left in him was to eat, feed, want... and it propelled the legless husk that used to be Stu up the shallow incline from the scene of his first death. Clawing...eat, pulling...feed, inching...wanting to get to the sounds that meant food.  

Cade had the unenviable task of searching the dead creature’s clothes for the keys to the van. They were in the front pocket of her wet sweat pants, much too close to her crotch for his liking. After extracting the keys he tossed them to Ike and told him to check the locked van for anything they could use. Surely there would be food and drink they could liberate.

Ike obliged, and while the kid searched the bus Cade reloaded the shotgun and the magazines for the other weapons. Rawley followed suit.

Ike tossed the sack lunches onto the ground and went back for the cooler which contained little milk cartons that were still cool. The Coleman cooler was awkward to lug out of the bus, but he struggled with it in the stifling heat until it was on the pavement of the parking lot. Catching his breath on the bottom step in the stairwell of the bus, Ike let his legs dangle as he ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and drank a carton of cool milk. He called out to the others, held up his drink and asked if they wanted some. Mid-sentence he let out a yelp that escalated into a piercing scream.

Stu’s teeth tore into Ike’s Achilles tendon; blood soaked his sock and coursed into his sneaker. Ike fell from the stair onto the hot pavement face first and the legless creature crawled on top of him.

Leo, Cade and Rawley sprinted across the grassy median to his aid. Leo arrived first and proceeded to kick at the legless corpse, screaming hoarsely in fear and rage. Rawley yelled for the others to stand back, and then put two rounds from his SKS into the side of the ghoul’s head.

Grimacing from the pain, Ike freed his legs from under the motionless thing that had just bitten him. He shed his Converse first and then removed the blood drenched tube sock. Ike started to cry when the extent of the damage was revealed. The grim recognition crossed Rawley’s mind that Ike was as good as dead.