About twenty miles north of Lake City FL, 0800 hours Local, 18 October 2009, Countdown: 2 years, 2 months, 12 days

"YEEHAW!" The Steve hollered over the roaring engine. The pickup rattled ominously as it sped down the highway. Mateo wondered if the truck would shake apart before the team even reached their objective. That would definitely fall into the "not good" category. Especially considering the pickup truck was holding the precious cargo.

The small convoy – consisting of Mateo and The Steve in the pickup behind two large U-Haul trucks with the four other members of their small team – continued its race to reach the five hundred strong zombie horde as it crept down the highway towards Lake City. Lake City wasn’t one of Florida’s great metropolises, but there were enough people who lived there for the horde to explode exponentially. That many zombies would threaten the entire state of Florida, and possibly the southeast United States. At that point, the United States government would be left one option, and Mateo really didn’t want part of his home state glowing for the next thousand years.

Once out of Forreston’s electro-magnetic black hole, Sport was able to make contact with Mackenzie & Winston’s on-site team. The exchange wasn’t pretty and left the normally quiet Brit swearing with curses that Mateo had never even thought of using. Sifting through the varied connotations, Mateo gathered the M&W leader decided his job was recovery, not defense, and therefore, had advised the local authorities to evacuate Lake City. The local authorities were desperately trying to organize an evacuation, but the town was in pure panic. Regular people didn’t handle zombies well. That left Mateo’s team as the only defense between five hundred zombies and the twelve thousand residents of Lake City.

Following conventional zombie fighting techniques, the team faced two options. First, the team could nibble at the edges of the horde and hope to whittle it down before the zombies reached the city’s outskirts. The second option was the team could try to force the horde into a single engagement. The sheer number of the zombies and the distance to Lake City ruled out the first option, and the lack of shooters and explosives ruled out the second. Fortunately, Mateo had The Steve.

"Boss, that dude’s playing Pied Piper with a tanker truck," The Steve said, "So let’s use it. I’m thinking TB."

"I’m fairly certain you’re not asking me to give a disease to the undead," Mateo replied dryly. "So, what are you talking about?"

"TB. Thermo-baric," The Steve said, "Used to be called a fuel-air explosive. Spray out a cloud of fuel and ignite. The force obliterates everything around it."

The Steve went into a more technical and graphic description, and Mateo’s eyes went wide in shock. Use something casually referred to as the poor man’s nuke? What was his medic thinking? Still, the plan The Steve laid out made a certain amount of sense. Mateo half-wondered if he was becoming as insane as The Steve.

Perhaps the most startling part of the whole plan was that it wasn’t the first time The Steve used it. There were muttered references to, "this one time, outside of Fallujah," as the medic slapped together a bizarre looking device called "the Sprayer." Mateo wasn’t sure how he felt when The Steve promised this time would go a lot smoother than the last time. Something about "not going eighty miles an hour with every SOB unloading an AK at us." For the briefest instant, Mateo could almost understand why The Steve acted like he did, including insisting everyone, including himself, refer to him as "The Steve." The man had done some epic things before he even step foot on Skull Island to compete in Zombie Strike. As The Steve worked through the night, Mateo and the others assembled the needed vehicles.

"Target sighted Mr. Cortez," Slim reported, yanking Mateo out of his reminiscence on the previous night, "Mr. DuBois requests we move into formation." At another time, Slim’s insistence on maintaining formality might have struck Mateo as amusing. At the moment, it grated on strained nerves. Mateo swallowed his angry retort. Slim didn’t really deserve it.

"Do it," Mateo gritted out through clenched teeth. Ahead of Mateo, the two U-hauls closed up and drove side-by-side. Jim, the cowboy who fought beside them the previous night, drove one of the big trucks with Sport riding shotgun. Collin had been forced to drive the other. Of the three Brits on the team, Collin was the only one who had driven on the "bloody damn wrong side of the road" as Collin so eloquently put it. Slim was riding with Collin to provide fire support. The plan was relatively simple. The two U-hauls would clear the path for Mateo and The Steve. Once they opened a space, Mateo would maneuver next to the tanker, allowing The Steve to board and mount the Sprayer. If all went well, the team would recover The Steve, escape, and watch as the improvised TB bomb annihilated the horde. Then, it was just a matter of dispatching the few zombies weren’t vaporized by the big boom. If all went according to plan.

Mateo slowed as the two trucks plowed into the horde. It was like watching the two large vehicles hit a mud pit. They bumped and jostled as they ran down the zombies. Mateo jinked all over the road as he tried to avoid most of the corpses. A pocket opened up, and Mateo gunned the truck. As he came up to the right side of the tanker, The Steve scampered up the side. The tanker was barely making five miles an hour, so The Steve had no trouble running along the top of the tanker to one of the top openings. He cracked open the tanker’s hatch. The fumes slapped him with an almost physical blow.

"Boss we’ve got a bit of a problem," The Steve said, "Do you happen to know if crystal meth is flammable?"

"What?" Mateo asked, startled enough by the question he almost collided with the tanker.

"Doesn’t matter. Wouldn’t burn right anyway," The Steve muttered, "Looks like the Templetons are big into the hillbilly heroin trade boss. This thing’s about a quarter full of liquid crystal meth. Can’t use this to make a TB bomb." Mateo thought furiously as The Steve plinked away at the zombies on the far side of the tanker. The plan just went Tango-Uniform, so what did Mateo have to work with? The two U-hauls, the pickup, The Steve’s useless piece of machinery, six shooters – and the tanker. The idea flashed through Mateo’s mind.

"Okay, who knows how to drive a semi?" Mateo asked over the radio net.

"Mr. Collins says that he can," Sport answered.

"Get Jim into that cab now," Mateo ordered, "Tell him that as soon as he’s in, he needs to floor it until we’re about a mile or so from this horde." There was a moment of silence from Sport.

"What am I supposed to at that point?" Sport asked.

"Learn to drive American. Fast," The Steve quipped, "I’ll clear the cab. Give me a minute." The Steve trotted across the top of the tanker slinging his carbine. Mateo lost sight of The Steve as the medic dropped into the gap between the tank trailer and the cab. The Steve climbed around the side of the cab with a practiced ease that surprised Mateo. The cab door opened violently. The Steve casually grabbed the driver and flung him out onto the asphalt. Mateo grimaced as he watched the driver go under the rig’s wheels. He was hoping to subdue the drive and get information from him.

Sport cautiously edged up to the semi’s cab. The Steve held the rig steady as Jim stepped out off the U-Haul and into the cab. An instant later, the semi’s big diesel roared and the vehicle leapt forward. The zombies tried to keep up with the tanker in an almost comical fashion. The other vehicles matched the tanker and sped away from the horde. Mateo brought the convoy to a halt when they had put a mile’s worth of highway between the horde and themselves.

"So what’s the plan boss?" The Steve boomed as he stepped out of the semi.

"We’ve got three very heavy and very massive vehicles," Mateo said, motioning his team around him, "We’re going to line them up in a line abreast, with the semi in the center. Then we’re going to keep running that horde down until there are no more walkers."

"And after that Matty?" Collin asked.

"After that is the big finale," Mateo said cryptically before explaining the last part of the plan to his team. Their predatory smiles matched their leader’s. The Steve and Collin would drive the U-Hauls with Jim handling the big rig. Mateo, Sport, and Slim would follow in the pickup truck. They would whittle down the horde as the trucks rolled over the horde.

The approach of the convoy was greeted by a ragged chorus of hunting moans by the zombie horde. The trucks’ roared in response and picked up speed. As the rolling phalanx charged at the undead, Mateo and his two shooters set up roughly a hundred yards down the highway. A sickening crunch erupted over the sounds of the engines as the trucks slammed into the zombies. The vehicles staggered for a moment as their wheels momentarily lost traction from the slippery remains of the undead. More zombies were knocked to the side and around the trucks.

"Wait," Mateo said to his shooters, "Wait until they’re standing." The Brits didn’t acknowledge the order, but Slim took down the first zombie that wobbled to its feet. Within seconds, the shooters were unleashing a fusillade of precision fire.

The trucks broke through the horde. Roughly half of the zombies were still walking. They turned en masse to chase the trucks. The rumbling engines acted as the perfect lure for the zombies. The shooters put down another twenty by the time the trucks turned around and came in for a second pass. The trucks reduced the walkers to a little over a hundred. The third pass, and the constant gunfire from Mateo’s shooters, finished the walkers. It was time to finish the job.

The Steve had made the modifications to the Sprayer while the rest of the team was getting the trucks together. Instead of turning the tanker into a TB bomb, the Sprayer was used to coat the crawling zombies with the gasoline from one of the U-Hauls. A strike of the match and the remains of the horde exploded into a wall of flame. The team relaxed as they watched the zombies burn. Mateo let them enjoy the sight as he contemplated his future.

One thing was certain. Mateo couldn’t go back to a normal life. Being a leader, especially a leader of zombie hunters, scared him. The people under him could die, or worse, if he made a mistake. Even with that fear, Mateo couldn’t shrug away his duty. Mateo could feel the dark times coming. It was time for him to step up and embrace his destiny.

Zombie Strike Part 2 Chapter 16 – Epilogue

Forreston FL, roughly fifty miles north of Lake City FL, 1900 hours Local, 18 October 2009, Countdown: 2 years, 2 months, 13 days

Mateo stopped as Slim’s fist shot up. Of the M&W Armed Response Team, only Slim and Sport joined Mateo, The Steve, and Collin to clear Forreston of zombies. The two Brits were very vocal with their nominal leader about his decision to leave. Pryce grudgingly handed over some extra weapons, ammo, and gear before departing back to Lake City.

The small team decided the elementary school in the center of Forreston looked like it would be the easiest place to fortify against zombies. It would make a good place to rally the surviving humans. Then they could sweep out and eliminate as many zombies as they could until help arrived. Slim was point for the team as they made their way into the seemingly deserted town.

"What is it?" Mateo asked.

"Single zombie," Slim reported, "It’s in front of our door." Based on a quick satellite shot of the school, Mateo decided to enter the school from a side entrance. Mateo scanned the area around. He couldn’t see any other zombies around the school.

"Take it down," Mateo said. Slim’s suppressed carbine coughed once. The zombie’s head shattered from the bullet’s impact. The team sprinted to the door as the zombie’s body collapsed to the ground. Speed was of the essence. Mateo’s team needed to seize and clear out the school quickly if they were going to have a chance of using it. As the five men neared, the door slammed open.

"Thank the Lord!" exclaimed the woman in the doorway. She was a stout, mature woman with brown hair and eyes with a dress that hurt the eyes with its clash of bright colors. Mateo suspected when the woman smiled, she would look like someone’s favorite aunt. At the moment, the woman just looked terrified. "Is the Army here?"

"No ma’am," Mateo answered as his team pushed past her into the school, "We’re not soldiers. We’re kind of private contractors." It sounded lame to Mateo’s ears, but the woman simply nodded.

"Are you going to get us out of here?" she asked.

"We’re going to try, Ms?" Mateo asked.

"Oh, I’m sorry. I plumb forgot my manners," the woman said with a slight blush coloring her cheeks, "I’m Mary Jacobsen. Let me take you to the others." Mary motioned for the team to follow her into the school. As they walked, Mary related what happened after the zombies escaped the abandoned supermarket. By sheer bad luck, the zombies’ first target was the local nursing home. The residents never had a chance against the walking dead. Then, they turned on the staff. Their numbers bolstered, the horde attacked some of the outlying homes of the town. Those were occupied by a substantial number of snowbirds. They were easy prey for the horde, but at least they managed to raise the alarm. The town police chief ordered an evacuation of the town before his small force went to fight the growing horde.

"It was so horrible," Mary said, "Most of the folks managed to get out of town in time. The rest of us had to hole up here." She showed the team some of the classrooms that had been converted to sleeping rooms. Some were full of children with a few adults to watch them. "I mean, I’ve watched Zombie Strike! on TV. It was never that horrible on television." Mateo could only nod wordlessly.

Mary led the team into the school cafeteria. The large windows were boarded over with storm shutters. The people in the room stiffened as the team walked in. The faces Mateo saw were beyond scared. These people were terrified and didn’t have a clue how to deal with the horde. Mateo took off his helmet and gave his most confident smile.

"Are all of the surviving people here?" Mateo asked Mary.

"Everyone except those damned Templetons," a grizzled voice from the crowd answered. An old man stood up and strode over to Mateo and the team. The man looked about eighty with his weathered face and gleaming bald head. He wore a plaid shirt and jeans, accentuated with worn cowboy boots and a big lever-action rifle slung on his shoulder. "Those hooligans are trapped in their little clubhouse with nearly every zombie in town surrounding them. Serves them right."

"Now Sparky, that’s not being a good Christian," Mary said in a matronly voice. It reminded Mateo of one of his old Sunday school teachers. The old man, Sparky, scoffed.

"Who are the Templetons?" Mateo asked.

"Family of bad seeds," Sparky said, "Them and their friends cause most of the trouble in this town. Drinking, fighting, drugs. Better question soldier boy, when is the Army going to get us out of here?" Several of the townspeople looked at Mateo expectantly. Mateo braced himself before he answered.

"My men and I are not with the Army," Mateo said calmly, "We’re private contractors. We will try to evacuate all of you out of here, but it’s going to take some time. To be honest, we weren’t expecting this many survivors. If you’ll let us get in contact with—"

THUMP! The room shook as a thunderous roar rocked the cafeteria. People were thrown across the room from the concussion. A few seconds later, the sounds of shattering glass and ripping metal exploded from the hallway that led to the school’s main entrance. Something big just slammed into the school from Mateo’s estimation. A couple of townspeople started down the hallway to find out what happened, but stopped cold. The distinctive hunting moans of zombies echoed through the hallway. Lots of zombies.

"Collin, Slim, recon," Mateo ordered. The two men nodded wordlessly before charging down the hall. "Sport, The Steve, defensive positions. Have some of the locals help you."

"Not a problem boss," The Steve said. Mateo turned to Sparky.

"We need someplace for everyone to go," Mateo stated, "Do you have access to the roof from here?"

"Well, yes, but that’s not the best—" Sparky started before Mateo cut him off with a sharp hand.

"It’s the best place right now," Mateo said, "I need the children up there now with some folks to watch them. I need others gathering food, water, and blankets in case we’re up there a while. Anyone whose strong enough to fight the zombies, I need helping The Steve." Sparky nodded and hurried back to the townspeople. From the activity, the townspeople seemed to be accepting Mateo’s directions.

"Collin, what’s the situation?" Mateo asked over the team’s radio net.

"Some bleeding idiot drove an HG lorry through the front of the school," Collin answered, "Looks like the driver dumped the petrol tank he was hauling before he crashed. That’s what detonated."

"Are we on fire?" Mateo asked.

"Negative," Slim reported, "The petrol was a good two hundred meters away. Did manage to knock some of our friends off their feet."

"We’ve got roughly two hundred of the buggers bearing down on us," Collin reported, "We can take care of the few enterprising ones that managed to get close. The main party will be pouring through here in roughly twenty minutes from the way their staggering about."

"Do it," Mateo ordered. Sparky returned with three individuals. Sparky introduced them as Jim, Ken, and Jess. Jim looked about ten years older than Mateo, with the weathered look of someone who made his living outdoors. From his clothes, Mateo guessed he was a farmer or a farmhand, but the man’s stance and cool blue eyes told Mateo this wasn’t Jim’s first rodeo. Jim had a Ruger Mini-14 slung over his shoulder and a 1911 on his belt. Ken and Jess were teenagers, and quite obviously dating. They looked similar from their Nordic features to the trendy clothing they were wearing to the ARs each was carrying. It made them look so innocent for what was about to happen. The slight nervousness didn’t help. Mateo’s paternal instincts screamed at him to send these kids back, but the team leader ignored them. People always underestimated what teenagers were capable of doing. These two had the hard, determined look in their eyes Mateo instantly recognized. They would be fine. Mateo thanked them and sent them to help The Steve and Slim. Mateo was surprised they’d actually managed to get three more people out of the roughly hundred people in the school. Usually, the percentage of people who could overcome the horror of the zombies to be useful was much lower. Much less the smaller group of individuals who were willing to fight against the horde. Still, he only had eight against two hundred. Granted, Mateo had fought worse odds, but he’d had prepared positions, a trained team of proven zombie hunters, and a bunch of explosives. Mateo’s mind flashed with an insight. Not the best plan, but one that might work.

"The Steve, double thick the wall," Mateo ordered, "Collin, I need you and Slim to ghost out of there as soon as the main group starts getting close to the entrance." Mateo sketched out his plan in a few short sentences. Collin, ever stoic, made no protestations. He just double-clicked the radio mike in acknowledgement. The Steve already had more of the townspeople constructing the palisade. Any furniture or equipment large enough and heavy enough was lashed onto the growing wall. The wall curved around the mouth of the hallway. It left a pocket roughly fifteen feet deep. Firing positions were at regular intervals and provided interlocking fields of fire. Next to each firing position was a shotgun. The Steve was very good at this kind of thing. The workers followed his instructions quickly and efficiently.

"Showtime Matty," Collin whispered.

"Everyone not fighting, get to the roof now," Mateo said. Everyone froze for a moment as their minds realized what that statement meant. "My team, take your positions. We’ve got incoming." The townspeople dropped what they were doing and fled to the roof access. The Steve was positioning the small team. Jim and Ken were on the outmost positions. Jess and Sport took the next positions. That left Mateo and The Steve in the center. Well, that’s what they got paid the big bucks for. At least, Mateo hoped they were being paid for this. Before Mateo could take his position, Sparky stormed in while unlimbering his rifle. The glint in those aged eyes brooked no argument. Actually, it was a good idea. Having Sparky on the line let Mateo observe and act as the team reserve.

"Let the first ones in close before engaging," Mateo said, "Wait until I open fire. Watch your targets, and don’t waste your ammo." Everyone braced as the moans came closer. The first zombies staggered out of the hallway into the pocket. Mateo lifted his carbine and drew a bead on the trailing zombie of this first group. He waited for a long moment and then squeezed the trigger. The carbine rocked back as the zombie fell. No one else fired. What the–? Oh crap, Mateo forgot about the suppressor. It was too quiet for the amped up group.

"Open fire!" Mateo yelled, and was rewarded with a ragged volley of gunfire. A half-dozen zombies fell. From that point, each shooter fired on their own. Mateo joined in with sporadic fire as he watched more zombies pour into the pocket. They were being taken down, but not fast enough. The four townspeople were just not experienced enough to score head shots with each shot. Many of the zombies were just knocked down. Those just got up and continued the attack. Mateo could see the crush, the point when the sheer number of zombies would overcome the firepower being thrown at them. Mateo imagined it was like watching a tsunami bear down on you.

"Collin, now," Mateo said over the radio as he quickly reloaded his carbine. There was no acknowledgement. Panic flooded Mateo. Collin was the only hope for the team to survive this fight. Did he get killed before –?

"Sorry Matty, we had to throw off some of the buggers," Collin reported, "You might want to take cover now."

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Mateo roared over the gunfire. Everyone except the kids took cover. They just looked bewildered. They had no idea what the phrase meant. Mateo lunged and managed to yank Jess behind the impromptu palisade an instant before the claymores were triggered. The team only had three of the directional mines, but the shockwave from three kilos of C4 was funneled through the hallway. As close as the line was to the mouth of the hallway, it was like standing next to a howitzer without hearing protection. Mateo’s ears were ringing, and his head was swimming. He felt the cracking impacts as some of the two thousand steel balls propelled by the explosive force of the C4 embedded themselves into the palisade. He barely remembered to stand up and open fire on the surviving zombies. There were maybe twenty or so walkers with quite a few more crawlers. Walkers were priority. Training and instinct took over as he placed the holographic reticule on the nearest zombie. He didn’t even remember squeezing the trigger. Mateo just felt the recoil and transitioned to the next target. As his hearing came back, Mateo heard the screaming. He spared a quick glance towards the sound. Jess was on the ground, cradling the still and bloody body of Ken.

"Steve, Ken’s down," Mateo said, flatly, "Sport, Jim, Sparky, close up the line and keep working the walkers." The four shooters moved towards the center of the palisade and continued to fire at the remaining zombies. The Steve slung his weapon and trotted over to the teenagers. The screaming came back, this time with a string of curses that no young lady should have been able to hurl. There were three walkers left. Sport and the others could deal with three walkers. Mateo went to deal with Jess.

"Do something!" Jess said, "Do something you—" followed by various aspersions on The Steve. Ken’s body was on the floor with The Steve between the body and Jess. Part of the boy’s head was missing. It looked like Ken managed to catch some of the claymores’ blast. Mateo shouldered his carbine as he walked up behind the screaming girl.

"He’s gone, honey," Mateo said quietly as he wrapped his armored arms around Jess. She fought, screamed, kicked, and cussed. Mateo held her carefully until she expended her fury. Then, she just broke into a torrent of tears and unintelligible sounds. The Steve carefully took Jess from Mateo, like one parent relieving another of a child. The father in Mateo screamed to comfort the hurting child, but Mateo knew he was responsible for not only his team, but all of the townspeople trapped in this school.

"Collin, what’s your status?" Mateo asked.

"We’re mopping up from our end Matty," Collin answered, "It’s a bit sticky, but we should be able to handle it." Mateo double-clicked his mike to acknowledge. Collin and Slim could handle themselves. He turned to the rest of his small team.

"Sparky, check on the people on the roof," Mateo said, "Keep them away from the front of the school. The claymores may have caused structural damage." The old man nodded before hustling away. "Sport, Jim, grab those shotguns and start clearing the crawlers. Start from the palisade and advance carefully. Sometimes those things will surprise you."

"What about the kids?" Jim asked, motioning to where Jess was crying over Ken with The Steve hovering over her.

"Ken’s dead, and Jess isn’t in any shape to fight right now," Mateo said, "You’ll have to do this on your own." There was a sudden sadness in Jim’s eyes as he nodded and went about his assigned task.

"You’ve got more trouble, son," Sparky said, "Beyond not knowing how small towns work." Sparky didn’t flinch under Mateo’s impatient glare. "You got another mess of them zombies marching to Lake City behind another tractor rig. The Diggens boy saw them. Good eyes on that boy." Mateo surveyed the scene. The Steve was attending to a multitude of small wounds. Sport and Jim were going through the remains of the zombie horde looking for the still-active ones. The town mothers were consoling Jess as Ken’s body was being removed by some of the men. The rest were milling about lost, flinching each time the shotguns fired.

"Collin, contact M&W in Lake City. Tell them a horde is on its way," Mateo ordered.

"How the bloody devil do you expect me to do that?" Collin asked, clearly annoyed with his team leader, "This town is a bloody black hole for radios and mobiles."

"Collin, you’re the former SAS guy. Figure it out," Mateo said. Collin grumbled out an acknowledgement. M&W might be able to put up some defense – if Collin managed to get off a warning. The problem was Mateo couldn’t depend on that. No matter how tired and battered he was – emotionally, physically, and mentally – Mateo couldn’t stop until this outbreak was extinguished.

[Zombie Strike Part 2 Chapter 15]Chapter 15