I burst out onto the roof to find Dave, Trish, their daughter Coral, and a couple of strangers were desperately trying to fend of an advancing swarm of zombies. I swore under my breath and sprinted up the stairs, my panting causing condensation on the inside of my mask. I got up, checked the integrity of my armor, and was about to get back to searching when I heard the worst imaginable sound: gunfire on the roof. I couldn't really get a good angle to swing my alpenstock, so I brought up my paintball marker and put a 12 gram lead ball into the patient's skull, then kicked the doctor off and spit his head open with the alpenstock. Even my socks and pants are attached that way-you can never be too careful about crawlers. My jacket is affixed to my pants, gloves and hood by heavy brass zippers, secured from working their way open by little steel clasps on the zipper pulls. Unfortunately for him, I'm not a complete moron. Apparently frustrated by the impregnability of the kevlar motorcycle jacket to human teeth, the doctor zombie tried to drag it up to expose my belly. They bit and pawed ineffectually at me as I struggled to get to my feet. I cleared out the handful of stragglers that had stayed behind or followed me back, then climbed down and headed into the hospital.Īs I made my way to the second floor, a pair of zombies, one in scrubs and another in a medical gown, burst out of a door and tackled me to the ground. It had good reach, and in close-quarters situations I can unscrew the top two feet to make a one-handed weapon. It's a 6-foot rod of oak, topped with the head of a spontoon tomahawk. It's a weapon of my own device, based on the old mountaineering tool. When I got there, I climbed out of the hatch on the roof, alpenstock at the ready. I triggered this one immediately and left the majority of the horde behind, searching dully for the nonexistant baby while I circled back to the hospital. When triggered remotely by the CTCSS from my radio, they start to cry like an infant, the perfect decoy or bait for zombies. They're just the voicebox from a baby doll wired into a cheap walkie-talkie. The zombies surged toward my little vehicle in a wave, and I led them on for a few blocks before shutting off the PA and dropping a crybaby through a small hole in the floor.Ī crybaby was a device I built a few dozen of after scavenging a toystore in Denver. I flicked a switch on the dash and the salvaged ice-cream truck PA on the back of the ATV stared blaring an off-key Turkey in the Straw. I saw Dave and Trish's bike parked in the hospital lot, surrounded by a milling sea of zombies. I'm telling you, the zombie apocalypse was the best thing that ever happened to fishermen. We got 3 Salmon over 30lbs already today. It'll probably take me a few more weeks to reach you, especially when I have to waste charge on bullshit like this." Every time I tell them to take their walkie-talkies they act like I'm their mom asking if they packed fresh underwear." They fucking left her behind on a salvage mission. You there?"Īfter a few seconds, Joey's voice came back, "Hey Laura. I keyed the gate signal on my walkie-talkie so it would patch me through the shortwave repeater I had set up back at base camp. They scrabbled at the cab, but the polycarbonate panels I'd bolted over all the openings afforded no purchase to their questing fingers. I pushed through the mass, the large wedge welded to the push bar parting them like the red sea. When they saw my little ATV, they came shambling toward it. Sure enough, the road into town was full of zombies, no doubt drawn by the passing cacophony of the motorcycle. I sighed and climbed in to the cab, going over my pre-mission checklist:Įverything looked good, so I punched in the hospital on my GPS and trundled off after the two idiots. They hadn't even charged them up after I'd insisted they take them last time. "Hold on, do you have your-" but before I could finish the sentence, they had roared off down the road toward town.Ī glance over at my ATV anwered the question: Their walkie-talkies were still next to the charging cradle. I'll be damned if they rise from the dead, too." He swung a leg over his chopper and kicked the starter to life. "If there's one thing I'm glad died with the old world," Dave said, "It's helmet laws. I'd been traveling with these morons for about a week and a half, but was starting to feel my desire for human interaction thoroughly slaked. Not this again." Dave rolled his eyes and Trish tried to hide a weary grin. Why don't we stop and get some armor? You can't just run around in jeans and a t-shirt!" "I'm just saying there's a motorcycle dealership on the way. "Guys, I'm not arguing that you shouldn't," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. "Me too," Trish agreed, strapping her combat knife to her leg. "Forget it, Laura," Dave said, "I'm going after her, and that's all there is to it."
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