“What’s up?” I asked, jumping over the side and grabbing a rope. The zombies were about one hundred yards away and not an immediate danger.
“There’s a chain in the canal.” Charlie pointed along the bank and sure enough, a chain was looped around an abandoned car, the links disappearing under the surface of the water. On the other side of the canal, the chain emerged and was looped around another car.
“Nice,” I said, running over to the car. I was just about to lift the chain when a shot rang out from the courthouse, whipping past my ear and plowing into the blacktop. I dove to the front of the car and hunkered down as Charlie threw up his rifle and fired twice at a second-story window. I poked my head around the car and cursed. Three orange-suited zombies were closing fast and I couldn’t get up without running the risk of getting shot. Well, crap.
I stretched out on the ground in front of the car and took aim at the zombies. No good. From my angle, I couldn’t get head shots. I used the only alternative I had, which was to bring them down to my level. I aimed at the nearest one’s knee and fired, the. 30 caliber bullet easily shattering the joint and bringing the zombie down. A second shot entered the top of its head and it stayed down permanently. I dropped the second one the same way, then ducked back as another round kicked up stinging stones in my face.
“Shit!” I yelled, spinning back to cover, wiping my eyes.
“You hit?” yelled Charlie, firing at the spot where he thought the shots came from.
“Not yet, but he’s getting warmer!”
I couldn’t stay where I was, because I could see more zombies headed my way and I couldn’t get up because the sniper was still shooting at me. To top off the fun, still more zombies were coming this way, attracted by the shots and potential feeding and I still had yet to remove the damned chain!
I had to do something, so I rolled out and shot a zombie dead, then rolled back as a barrage of shots punched holes in the car I was hiding behind. The shots proved to be just what Charlie needed and he fired one telling shot.
“Got him!” he called.
“Finally!” I yelled back. I scampered around to the back and removed the chain from the back of the car. At least ten zombies were bearing down on me and I dragged the chain to the water and dropped it in. Charlie had fired up the boat and was moving alongside the canal bank. I ran for a small way, away from the congregating zombies, and jumped the four feet of water to land clumsily on the boat.
“Thanks,” I said, rubbing a sore knee.
“No problem. We’re going to need to do something about Joslin,” Charlie said.
“Well, you know my solution to problems like that,” I replied.
“You wouldn’t happen to have been milking O’Leary’s cow way back in 1871, were you?”
“Good idea. We’ll try that in the fall when the winds kick up out of the south.”
“You’re nuts.”
Joseph Talluto
Taking It Back
27
We pulled away from Joslin, keeping a sharp eye out for any additional traps or snipers. I used Charlie’s scope and spotted what might have been two or three people on rooftops looking us over with binoculars. I sent a shot at one, causing them to duck for cover. It was over eight hundred yards and I would have been stunned by a hit, but I’ll take a duck at that range.
“Did you elect him?” Charlie asked from the pilot’s seat.
I laughed, understanding his reference. “No, but I nominated him real good.”
We continued to head south, passing through familiar territory. We had been this way earlier this year and I had to shake my head at the memories. I was still amazed Charlie and I made it out of Coal City alive. Too lucky, I thought.
The sun was fast approaching its zenith when we moved around the bend where we had stopped to go to State Center Bravo. I wondered how Trevor was doing since he and his men had gone in search of answers at the other state center. Charlie swung the boat around to the dock we had spent the night at before and we quickly reconnoitered some additional gasoline for the boat. Our buddy from the machine shop was still there, although he looked to have been chewed a bit by local fauna.
After the brief stop, we moved on to unfamiliar waters. I was sure of where we were according to the map I had, but I had no clue as to what lay ahead regarding the towns that were on the river or what else we might encounter. The first town we were supposed to come in contact with was Morris, but since it had a major highway running through it, I did not think it would have escaped the infection. But I have been wrong before and this might be one of those times.
As we pulled under the bridge to Morris, it was immediately apparent the infection had indeed struck this town. I could see shadowy shapes flitting from building to building and the omnipresent white flags were everywhere. The town seemed abandoned, but I knew there were still occupants, although likely none living.
I shook my head at Charlie as he slowed down and we sped up again, leaving Morris in our wake. We moved down a long stretch of river with untended farms on both sides. We could see the silos of farms in the distance, but had no desire to investigate. I had to assume that since Morris had been hit, that the outlying farms and small towns were hit as well when the ghouls ran out of food in the main communities they headed out to the country. No single family home could withstand a siege from hundreds of hungry, determined zombies. I had seen too many homes with the windows smashed in, the doors broken, and bloodstains marking the walls and floors.
The next town we were supposed to come close to was Seneca, which was a small, older community on the river. If I remembered correctly, there was a row of homes on an upper portion of the town, almost on cliffs. If they could have made a coordinated stand and blocked the entrance to the subdivision, there might be survivors.
We slowed to an easy drift as we approached the town, passing several barges abandoned at the side of the river. I couldn’t see the town, but I could see the long dock on the south side of the river with many boats still moored. I took that as a positive sign. My confidence was further bolstered when we spotted a lone man standing on the bridge, a scoped hunting rifle balanced on his hip. He was waving to us and I shrugged my shoulders at Charlie and, standing on the roof of the cabin, I tossed a mooring line up to him.
The man caught it with his free hand and looped it around a bridge support, holding on to it tightly. Charlie cut the engine and the boat slowly swung around under the bridge, until we came out facing the other way and facing the man on the bridge. He was about fifty years old, dressed simply, with graying black hair peeking out from beneath a worn camouflage cap. I could see an additional revolver on his belt and the bridge had been blocked at one end with a chain link gate.
“Howdy!” the man called down to us. “Nice to see another live soul ‘round these parts. Name’s Josh Courtner. Where y’all from?”
I smiled at the man’s southern accent although we were still in what many considered northern Illinois. “We’re from Leport. I’m John Talon and my partner at the tiller is Charlie James. How’s your town?”
The gentleman considered the question for a minute, then replied, “We’re gettin’ by. The kids are complainin’ they’re bored, but that’s ‘bout the worst of it. Did you pass Morris?”
“Yes,” I said. “We didn’t go in, but I got the impression it was empty, nothing living.”
“We’ve thought so for months, but never got around to checking it out. We’re too busy tryin’ to make a livin’ in a world gone dead.” Josh seemed amused by his statement, but I didn’t press him further. I had seen enough to know that unless he went in there with some decent firepower and cool shooters, someone was going to die.
“What brings y'all down the river?” Josh asked. “Not that I mind, it's great there's another town that's alive out there, we thought we were a little alone, here.”