John Colton placed himself on the opposite side of the map. He wore a tattered brown canvas jacket covered with splattered blood and burn marks. Underneath the coat, his black shirt no longer showed signs it was once a police officer uniform. He asked, "How are we doing on fuel for the flamethrower?"
"We're down to one tank."
"Shotgun shells?"
"We have ten. Six are reloads with gravel."
Colton
rubbed his chin and replied, "Let's save those
in case
we are overrun. We'll make axes and blades our primary weapons." He glanced over at the doctor. "Daniel, how's our food rations?"
"We're low on bread and dried fruits. There's thirty cases of canned beans and eight pounds of dried noodles. The military gave us twenty pounds of rice
,
but we gave half of that to a caravan of folks headed to the coast in exchange for fixing our main generator."
"It looks like we'll be eating a lot of beans for a while. How's the greenhouse looking? What about the fresh vegetables?"
"We have guards posted night and day at the greenhouse. So
far,
there hasn't been any trouble
,
but it's pretty well hidden. The corn, tomatoes, green beans, squash and spinach are all starting to grow. If we can keep the boiler running, they should be ready for harvest in two months. We're working on making a trade with the
Boulder
militia for some watermelon seeds."
"What about the horses? How are they doing?"
"The horses are doing fine. They are grazing out in the fields and drinking from the river. They have it better than us."
Colton
brought his attention back to the map. "Okay, I talked to East Arapahoe and they gave me the details of the offensive tomorrow. Every remaining civilian militia in
North
America
,
combined with local military units
is
going to launch a
blitz
on all re-an
tribes
within reach. It's our version of a zombie Tet Offensive. We've been assigned to
move
on the Lodo tribe around the old Union Station." He pointed to the spot on the map. "The regular soldiers are going to lead the show. We're going to hang back and cover their flanks."
Daniel asked, "When do we move?"
"The re-ans are more active at night. If we hit them right around dusk, we can catch them at the time they are most vulnerable."
* * *
Standing
on the
second
and highest
floor
in the skeletal
remains
of what used to be a skyscraper,
Colton
raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes. A quarter mile away, he saw the thirty to forty re-ans
staggering
aimlessly around the scattered rubble. The walking partially
decomposed corpses wore ragged and torn clothes, which covered their gray rotted skin. Mixed among
them,
undead coyotes sniffed the
ground
in their
search
for something living. A hundred yards away, sixty soldiers hid behind piles of shattered concrete, burnt out tanks, and inside blast craters waiting for their orders to attack. Between them and the living dead
,
lay an open field of dirt
,
which once used to be the heart of the downtown
nightclub
district.
Colton
lowered the field glasses and quietly said to Daniel, "The regulars are in place. Those walking meat bags are going get mowed down before they get the chance to drool on themselves."
One of the soldiers closest to the open field, waved his hand to the men next to him
,
signaling it was time for them move. All ten men sprang up, jumped over the dirt mound in front of them and ran across the field with shotguns in-hand. The re-ans didn't react. They only continued their
directionless
wandering
.
Remaining in tight formation, the ten soldiers closed to within thirty yards and raised their shotguns to their shoulders. Around
twenty-five
yards, the ground beneath them gave way and they all fell into a deep concealed pit. Three foot
long,
sharpened wooden
spikes,
five inches in
diameter,
lined the entire
bottom
of the hole. The soldiers all became impaled as the several
stilettos
pierced through their bodies and killed them instantly.
The aimless walking of the re-ans turned into a coordinated charge toward the second wave of soldiers who carried
flamethrowers
and laid down a wall of flames. Through the wall of fire, burning zombies staggered toward the soldiers, grabbing them in a death hug, which spread the fire causing their fuel tanks to explode.
Attacking from both flanks, the remaining soldiers moved in launching grenades into the center of the battle. The explosions tore re-ans apart
,
but the upper portions of their decomposed bodies continued to crawl and roll toward their enemy.
Hundreds of re-ans emerged from the sewers, dark shadows of building ruins, and the side streets. They had all the regulars surrounded and
closed in
the circle. Daniel asked, "Do we move now?"
Colton
raised his hand and yelled, "We need to get down there and clear a hole in this wave of re-ans so the regulars can pull back." Throwing his arm forward, he said, "Let's go!"
The former police officer led the charge with Daniel and the other men close behind.
Coming
in contact with the first wave of zombies, they quickly swung their modified axes with serrated blades,
and
makeshift swords made from scrap metal
,
and
they
sliced the heads, arms
,
and legs off the undead.
They opened a small clearing in the rear wave of zombies as hundreds more continued to pour in from below ground and the dark corners of the crumbled buildings. One of the regular soldiers called out, "Pull back!" and they made their way through the small opening as it closed tighter. Several of the
soldiers,
who were
killed
in the pit, crawled out with glassy eyes and staggered
around
in a confused state. Several of the wounded soldiers tried to crawl toward
safety,
but the dead coyotes
pounced
on them, finishing the job.
Colton
helped the last soldier through the opening and gave a quick scan to see if there were any more men alive in the midst of the horde. He turned back toward his retreating men and
stepped
on a hidden bear leg
spring
trap. The steel contraption clamped down on his lower shin, shattering his bones as the large sharp teeth dug in deep. He fell to the ground and heard the crack and crunch of his ankle. Looking down on the trap, he saw his foot turned backwards pointing the opposite way of his knee.
Trying to pry the vise open, he only managed to cut up his fingers and hands. A quick glance
at
his men
,
and he saw them all with their backs turned
,
still retreating to safe ground. Turning back to his mangled foot, he saw a pair of leather
boots
standing next to the trap.
Slowly,
his eyes followed up the legs inside those
boots,
until he saw a tall female re-an wearing a tattered camouflage
jacket,
with a sawed off shotgun strapped to her back. Her stringy long brown hair hung down to her shoulder and helped hide her sickly gray skin. Parts of her jawbone were visible through the open decayed holes in the side of her face.
Colton
knew he was done. He
lay
back on the ground and watched the dead woman pull her weapon off her back. She pointed the barrel directly at his face and held it inches away.
The former police officer thought about the time he came home with a new puppy. His
five-year-old
son came running out the front door of their house with a smile spread from ear to ear. His wife stood on the porch
,
with her arms crossed in front of her
,
watching their son grasp the little dog under a clear blue sky. The air smelled like fresh cut grass. His son rolled on the lawn, as the puppy
licked
his face. As he turned toward his wife, all went silent and black.
Hundreds of candles
,
placed throughout the tunnel
,
provided the only light in the underground cavern. The flickering yellow glow
,
which faded off and disappeared in the distant darkness,
cast shadows on the old rock and brick structure. Tiny bits of mortar and dirt flaked off the arched roof and left thin streams of dust like strings hanging from the ceiling. The dripping sounds echoed through the
passageway
,
while small patches of water oozed through the sections of the old worn brick walls. Prometheus and Itaiyo walked past two undead working a forge while a third hammered red hot metal on an anvil.
"There's a big advantage to having all of you ancients. Blacksmithing and sword making has been a lost art with all of us moderns
,
" Itaiyo commented
,
as he watched the red glowing sparks fly from the metal and bounce along the ground.
Prometheus responded, "Considering all of the magnificence this world has to offer, it is odd as to how the skills from my place in history, seem to have become the necessities for our survival."
With the metal works in the distant end of the tunnel, the two living dead approached a table with Captain Bartholomew, Patricia, Salsa and several others. More candles lit the area with a yellow flicker. Spread out in front of them
was
a hand drawn map of the city with areas marked as descendants and dead. Remembering their last meeting held in the former library, Prometheus scanned his surroundings and asked with some confusion, "What is this cavern where we stand? Why do we not gather in that grand building called a library?"
Itaiyo replied, "The library's gone. The army kept blowing up any buildings where we gathered. There's not much left on the surface for us or the humans to occupy." He waved his hand over his head at the bricks above him. "These tunnels were built under the city back in the late 1800's. They ran between the upscale hotels and the brothels
,
so the socialites could get there and back without being seen. Because of the powerful people using these passages to get to the hookers, the city didn't exactly brag about their existence. As the decades passed, and the brothels closed down, people forgot these things existed. Apparently, these don't show up on any current charts used by the army
,
so we're somewhat safe down here."