Timothy Long: Beyond the Barriers

I squinted as we came into the light above. I worried that Scott or Jack would see the ghoul and shoot on sight, but they seemed to have their attention on taking out zombies.

When I came into the light outside, I looked around. The vehicle was fifty or sixty feet away with Scott on the machine gun, firing toward the entrance of the camp. Jack was on the side of the truck firing in single-shot mode from an automatic. I grabbed the ghoul and thrust him in front of me. He nearly fell, but I didn’t help. Touching the thing was repulsive.

“Look at all of your sheep dying.”

“There are always more sheep—many more sheep. A whole world of sheep.” the ghoul said. “I was one once. My name was Warren. I was much like you, but now I am better.”

“And dead.”

The thing turned to look at me, his face a nightmare of bruised and mottled flesh around large green eyes that even glowed in the light of day.

“As will you be, someday. I look forward … to it.”

I could just shoot him here and now, be done with it, but then I would lose a bargaining chip. I needed him, but only for the time being.

“Scott, Jack, you ready to roll?” I called out.

Jack looked at me as he changed a magazine. Bullets whizzed by him, and one pinged off the side of the truck. Scott readjusted his aim and fired in the general direction of whoever was shooting. He was smart, for he didn’t pound the gun. Instead, he shot a short burst, moved his aim, and shot again.

Who the hell was shooting at them?

“Are there more ghouls out there with guns?”

“Only your kind use guns. Mine use a much greater weapon.”

“Blah blah. Why don’t you stick to simple yes or no answers?” I considered shooting the ghoul again, then I had a better idea. Besides, he was full of shit. I knew one of them had shot Katherine.

I grabbed his cold neck, but shifted the remains of his shirt up so I didn’t have to touch his flesh. Then, with the warm barrel dug into his neck, I propelled him ahead of me toward the truck. There were a few hordes coming at us.

Pushing the ghoul ahead of me, I used him as a shield. We walked as fast as he could, but his movement was wooden, stiff, and resistant, like he was on stilts or had boards strapped to his legs. The ground was flat, and I frowned when we passed a cage that was now empty.

A zombie came at us; a large naked man covered in mud. There were two more behind; one was missing a foot and dragged the remains of his leg. I lowered the big gun and fired, but the shot went wide and only hit his shoulder. He spun around as the round ripped a path of destruction along its way. Stumbling, the zombie fell into one of the others, then they all went down like dominoes.

Bullets kicked up clumps of dirt around me, but none struck the ghoul. He stumbled once, over the foot of one of the dead lying discarded on the ground. I stayed with him and guided him back to his feet so we both didn’t go down.

Scott tore his gaze away from whatever he was aiming at and scanned the area. I followed his focus as I tried to keep it together. Just a few more feet. Then, once in the truck, I would rearm and shoot everything that moved. That was the plan now.

“You got a new girlfriend?” Scott asked as we slammed into the side of the truck.

“You run off and I’ll shoot you in the back of the head. Got that?” I said in the ghoul’s ear, but his dead eyes were unreadable. I wanted to smash the gun into his head, wanted to grind the barrel between his lips and blow the back of his neck out. The thing that was once a man disgusted me.

“Who the hell is doing the shooting?” I ducked down as more fire rippled our way. Behind us, several hordes advanced in our direction. Ten shambled into view, then, or so it seemed, hundreds came. There were so many that I couldn’t count. They came from the woods, from the buildings. They crawled if they couldn’t walk. A couple of them moved faster than the others, in a way that was closer to a normal human gait, and they were snarling. Their eyes were livid as they got a look at us.

Scott leaned down out of sight and came up with a bottle. He applied flame to the piece of cloth that hung out of the top.

“Cover me!” he yelled.

Jack sprayed the area ahead of us, emptying most of his magazine.

Scott stood up and tossed the Molotov at a cluster of dead that had taken a liking to us. It splattered the ground and set their clothing on fire. One must have sensed his fate and walked away, but the others came on even as they burned.

“We need to get the fuck out of here, now!” I yelled.

Scott answered by ripping a blast of machine gun fire into a horde that came in at a fifteen-degree angle. They blew apart as rounds pounded into their mass. The carnage was horrific, but it was what we had come for. We had come to kill these dead and soulless things in their multitudes. I would not rest until I eradicated them.

“That asshole from yesterday followed us,” Scott told me. “Waited until we got inside, then pinned us down. He won’t poke his head out, but he keeps shooting at us.”

“What?”

“Lee, that son of a bitch. He must have been waiting, because as soon as we got inside the perimeter, he started shooting. I recognized him as we sped away toward the center of camp.”

“Ah Christ!” That was just great. Just great!

“What do we have for wares?” I crawled in behind the back seat next to Scott.

“An AK, I think. Looks beat up, but it probably works well enough.”

Grabbing the ghoul by his shirt, I pulled him in. He went almost willingly. I grimaced as more of the dead closed in. They were everywhere.

“Fuck it. Charge him,” I said as I looked over the mass around us.

“What?” Jack teetered off balance as he slapped a fresh magazine home. His head snapped back, and then he fell flat on his back. A blast tore at the air. It shook like a plane breaking the speed of sound. Part of Jack’s head was gone.

“Ah hell. Get ready to fire at anything that moves!” I called to Scott as I crawled over the passenger seat and into the driver’s seat. I waited to feel the blast of a bullet any second, wondering if I would see the glass of the windshield break when the bullet took me apart. Lee had a damn accurate rifle, and I didn’t want to be his next target.

The truck was rumbling, so I slammed the stick into gear and hit the gas. Rocks shot out as it rocketed forward. Four or five zombies had been heading in our direction, and I angled the big front end so we sideswiped a pair of them.

Scott went to town with the giant gun. It rattled away, picking off a few of the zombies moving in our direction, but he also shifted aim and sprayed the area that led into the camp. Dirt kicked up as he tried to find a target. It was too hard to see where the shots had come from, but he kept a steady finger on the trigger and sprayed anything that moved.

Hot shells rained down on the hard metal floor, creating a staccato that sounded almost like rain—metal rain. The gun was immensely loud, and it battered away at my hearing.

What a mess this assault had become. What was I thinking? I should have waited and come back with an army. Lee was a wild card, but if we had waited at the farm then moved on later, Jack would still be alive. Another death meant more blood on my hands.

A glance in the rearview mirror showed me the ghoul sitting perfectly serene, as if we were heading to the store for groceries. Was he communicating with his brethren somehow?

A green and tan vehicle lay near the line of trees, and a pair of giant wheels were exposed toward the front of what looked like a Stryker. Our HMMV was a big truck, but that thing was huge by comparison. If I hit the tires, I doubted we would do much more than piss off the guy lying on top of the vehicle. So I aimed for the front.