| Empty Graves Part Ten: Fight Against Those Who Fight Against Me After having seen the extra hoards of the undead loosely marching in unison down the hills, slowly creeping, their dead flesh rippling towards the town of Fort Severn, Jake had to now put the initial preparations of his plan into action. He took some food from his family's supply and stocked it in the back of his father's old saloon, which was hidden safely in the garage and had not been used as a means for a useless defence barrier against the undead outside the town. Jake was tempted by his father's new import truck, but the mileage was terrible and it was foreign, half-made from plastic. At least the old saloon got a good number of miles to the gallon and was made from metal. Always buy American Jake said, but his father never was one for listening to Jake on matters such as that. After stocking the car with some supplies as well as the remnants of what could be called weapons from the hardware store that had been raided earlier on by the 'A-Team' and stashed them on the back seat, covered by a blanket. He had thought of applying some sort of barriers on the side windows, especially those of the driver and passenger, but time was running low at his estimation, and he knew nothing about such practical matters as welding. As he quietly closed the back door of the car he thanked his high school for all the practical help it had given him. If the exact time two trains running at different speeds would meet helped you in this situation he would have been sleeping it all off on a remote island, but in the real world that meant no more than a bag of shit. Mary's house was just as somber and as suddenly religious as his own house, but like him, Mary considered it all to be a crock of shit and was quick to agree to the idea of getting out as soon as the dead broke into the town, which they both thought would be very soon, perhaps in the next couple of days as the dead were coming down the hills very fast, thanks to wet grass and the use of gravity. It was like seeing free-style toboggan racing, except with now snow, no toboggan and dead people. Meanwhile at the front lines of the ongoing battle the situation was heating up again and after having just burnt the rotting corpses that lay at the main road into town, a new batch had culminated there and were desperately trying to get into the town. There were at least a hundred of them and there was going to be at least a thousand by the looks of the hills, which wriggled like a beehive in heat. The future of Fort Severn looked very dead indeed, and this was spotted a mile off by Mr Romero who had since left his plush office, taken his cigars and as much food as he could carry to the docks. He had tried rowing his way to freedom, but after about twenty minutes the poor bastard had a heart attack and died, his zombi-fied corpse now struggling with the oars, rowing its rotting ass around in circles, too far away to even smell the live flesh of the living. "Poor bastard," said Chip. "What?" asked Ed. "That Romero dude, see his zombie ass out there rowing around?" replied Chip as he handed Ed the binoculars as they sat cross legged on their watch tower position. "God damn! Funniest thing I seen all day!" chuckled Ed as he handed the binoculars back to Chip who was quick to scan the main barrier once more. "Did Sarge ever stop and wonder what was happening at the other barriers? Why do we always have to watch this one single barrier? You would have thought that those things, even with brains as useful as that of a cheerleader, would have figured it out that taking the back entrance would be a smarter move." "Ed," Chip paused as he began to process what now seemed very obvious. "Shit!" he shouted as he leapt to his feet and ran to the left of his seating area, focussing his binoculars on the back street barriers, which were now teaming with the undead, just as many as what there was at the main barrier. "Holy-fucking-shit! Hand me that walkie-talkie!" Ed threw the radio over to the red-faced Chip who quickly alerted the attention of Sarge to the fact that the dead was now breaking in through the back door. "What in tarnation are you talking about boy? Do you think I haven't thought of this situation? Well I have and I can guarantee you son that those puss-brained bags of shit don't have the brainpower to figure out about a back entrance. Now stop interrupting me boy as I have company!" bellowed Sarge as he was laid down on his desk with a younger woman, formerly the town bicycle as she was called in private. "Stupid fucker!" shouted Chip as he threw the radio down to the ground, smashing it wide open. He then proceeded to grab Ed and drag him down the stairs past their 'Sarge' and his latest squeeze and onto the streets where they burst onto chaos as the ugly heads of the undead began to appear from the back streets to their left. "Now we're in the shit, Ed. Now we're in the shit!" shouted Chip as he grabbed his pistol and dragged his friend over to the main building, which had formerly been inhabited by Mr Romero. Fortunately enough, the five teams of ground troops were still there, weapons at the ready. "Jesus Christ! Don't you guys ever look out the window! They're in! The zombies are in!" shouted Chip as he crashed through the doors to the rest area in which all five teams were enjoying themselves, drinking, smoking and anything else that went along with it as long as you had a twenty in your pocket. The men stared blankly at Chip as he ran out of the building, grabbing a pair of shotguns and a rifle as he did so. "Ed! Get as much ammo and guns as you can carry!" blared Chip as he fell out of the building, spilling onto the streets, which were now beginning to slowly fill with the undead. "Come on! Get your asses moving!" bellowed Ed as he slammed his fist into a large red button on the wall labeled 'In Case of Emergency.' As the shadow of Ed disappeared into the stairwell and onto the streets outside that groaned quietly, Ash leapt out of his bunk leaving his half-naked 'piece of pie' as he so eloquently called her as he said he'd be right back. He dashed over to the window and glared down onto the street, which was now beginning to look like a party as more and more of the undead spilled onto the streets and as one of his company's trucks roared off into the crowds of zombies, guns blazing from inside, the twisted bodies of cadavers flying into the air as they were hit head on with the force of good old American automobile craftsmanship. "Get a fucking move on lads! We've gotta move our asses! He's right! The dead are inside the town! Move!" yelled Ash as he grabbed his personally constructed 'sniper' rifle from his bed, still inhabited by his 'bit on the side.' "Come on you dumb bastards, come and get 'um!" he shouted from the balcony of the building, firing hasty rounds of ammunition down at the street, occasionally hitting a zombie or two as the rest of his men quickly leapt into action either running to the roof or to the streets and into their trucks. Chaos had come to their town at last, survival was slim, but they were damned sure they weren't going to give it all up to some rotting minions of hell. It was now time for the lake of fire to take down the undead, sending them right back to hell where they belonged. |