Sunday, May 2, 2010

Frustration is a constant companion

Well, it was a trap, kind of.
The streets were chocked with the ’dead. Getting to what amounted to be the center of town was not easy. We didn’t have enough ammo to clean out the town and the vans were not going to be able to crush our way there. Our radios cleared up for a while as it just kept pouring down the rain with very little lightning. Maria was telling us they called out again, but must not be able to receive, as here responses went unanswered.

Kelly (with his Southern draw sounds like Killee), who was driving said this feels like a trap. John in the back of this van echoed his words and my thoughts. I radioed to the second van to Peter, Jake and Ellien to get their vote on packing it in or not. We were a good 4 blocks away from the Bank and the streets literally crawling with zombies. That’s when the gunfire started. The vans’ windows blew out all around us, the tell tale scrape and scream of tortured metal told us we were under fire.
Now here were our choices, stay in the big targets or try to get out on foot. Neither which are great choices. Kelly spun the van in a circle on the slick street and pushed the old Ford’s engine for all it was worth. Sparks flew from nearby cars and chunks of pavement tore up around us as we motivated the result of automatic weapon fire.

The van following us had a worse time of it, several large holes in the grille and blood splattered windshield. John is yelling now he sees where they are and opens up on the roof tops about a block behind us. Kelly slides the van to a stop behind the other van and I jump out into the pouring rain to rip open the back door on the other van. Jake jumps out carrying Eillen who has a bloody head and deftly maneuvers them both inside our now windowless van. Peter lays slumped across the wheel, blood pooling over the dash. I move in to pull him out when Jake is yelling that he is dead. Bullets splang off of the metal of the van, return fire from John is joined in by fire from Jake at the back of our van. I reach in, grab Peter and drag him between the seats out onto the pavement. Grunting with the effort I toss Peter’s body into the van as a bullet slams the door next to my head, fragments of steel burn as they hit my face. All the while Kelly is screaming at me to get inside. The zombies smelling blood and hearing the noise start to close in on us. I jump in and didn’t have the door shut before we are careening down the street again. We turn the block and we are out of range and sight of the bandits who laid the trap.

I move up to the front seat again, and stare out into the rain which is blasting into the whole that was once our windshield. Peter at least won’t be coming back; he took a round in the forehead. Kelly is mumbling to himself about never volunteering again, I second the thought for a moment, but then I think if we just all gave up, then where would we be? Eileen is staring in shock at Peter’s body I notice when I turn around again to look over our group. Could have been worse I guess. John is reloading his rifle while Jake looks at a still staring Eileen’s head wound. Just a graze, bleeding will stop in a minute or so with a compression bandage Jake is administering. Damn this sucks. Like the world isn’t screwed up enough?

We meet the convoy along the road and I give my report to the Major. Nothing I could have done better he says. I want to take the APV back and root out these bastards, but the Major says we cannot delay and it could be a bigger trap waiting on us if we go back. He’s right. I just am pissed. We wrap up Peter in a canvas tarp and place him in one of the supply trucks. Eillen is still in shock but not bleeding anymore. Jake informs me her and Peter had a thing going. I didn’t know that. I am not much of a leader if I miss things like that. Jake claps me on the shoulder and walks away saying I did all that I could. Doesn’t feel that way to me. One of my crew is dead. I write this out in bitter frustration and if the bandits that did this can read this. I will be back. There are worse things than the zombies out there. Count on it.
Over.

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