I was by his side in an instant. I could not detect any movement, not matter how much I strained to see. “You sure?”
“I was, can’t see them anymore. Maybe they left.”
“Doubtful,” I said with chagrin. “They’re just trying to find a weakness in the zombies and in our defenses.”
I walked the entire perimeter of the parapet a dozen times before they made their next move. The sneaky bastards sent two out to entice the zombies into following them. The two distractions shouted and hollered until the zombies took notice and began their pursuit. Our guardians were leaving in droves, chasing the new meat. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a large detachment of the howlers approaching from the side.
“Son of a bitch. Damn near textbook.”
“I loved school,” John said, startling the hell out of me as he came up beside me.
“Huh…wouldn’t have thought that. Looks like uninvited company is going to try and make an appearance. You need to start shouting and draw the zombies back in.”
“The funkies? We want them back?” he asked, perplexed.
“Right now we do.” Thankfully he didn’t question me anymore as he started to hoot and holler.
“Hey, girls and boys, look at this!” he screamed pulling up his shirt. “USDA prime beef! Top shelf! Come get a morsel!”
I left him to his devices. The howlers were coming en masse, maybe all of them, tough to get an accurate count as they streamed into the opening. I began to open fire; even if they had been standing still, this would have been a difficult shot. They were a football field away, and because of the severe angle, I didn’t have a much bigger target than their heads and shoulders. After a couple of them had climbed the fence and dropped to the ground, they began to randomly zigzag across the concrete. The only bonus I received was the slow zombies that had not yet made it off the pad smelled the blood and came to investigate. The howlers were smart, but not geniuses, they had not allowed their distraction enough time to truly take hold. Either they weren’t overly bright, or they were just starving and desperate. I was going to hold on to the low IQ theory for a little while longer. Made me feel better inside. Maybe not warm and fuzzy, but better.
Jack Walker — Cage Match
I’m in for a long evening, but it’s better than roaming around at night with no cover. That would quickly determine whether this is a dream or not as I’d not last long. I can tell almost the precise moment the sun sets and darkness descends upon the land as shrieks from night runners fill the air. That is a sound I’ll never be comfortable with. Their presence, and the fear they cause, is so great that the motor home suddenly feels like it’s made of tissue paper. I don’t want to be in here…trapped.
I take a deep breath to calm myself. There’s nothing to be done about it now, and I can’t let fear take over my senses. In the cramped space, if they do get in, it will be close quarters. I’m not sure if that’s a disadvantage or not. I’d prefer longer range where I have the distinct advantage as long as I have ammo available. Basically, I’m just plain fucked. I want to open up my mind to ‘see’ where they are, but that will give me away, as they’ll be able to sense me as well. No, I’ll just have to fold up and become a dark hole in the fabric of space and time.
The shrieks increase in volume. From the sound of it, one or more of the packs I sensed earlier are drawing near. The odor from the zombies outside are permeating the area to the extent that I can’t even smell myself, so I know I’m relatively safe from being discovered in that manner. Of course, that’s assuming the night runners in this world behave the same as the ones where I came from. Maybe they can see through walls here, which would suck mightily. Or sense heat.
Fuck, I never thought about that one.
The shrieks nearby stop, although I can hear faint ones farther off in the night. Shortly, I hear noise of movement coming from just outside of the thin metal shell I’m holed up in. There is the same metallic crunch I heard earlier in the day as something lands on a nearby vehicle. Then, there comes the noise of something shuffling outside and quick footsteps… several footsteps. During intervals of quiet, I hear sniffing. I’ve heard that sniffing sound enough times to know that there are night runners just outside searching for prey.
They aren’t running or trotting by in their hunt for food; they are lingering nearby. I hear them circle the motor home several times. It’s obvious they sense something, but they aren’t trying to break in. I’m hoping I’m not the thing they sense. I could have left a presence of odor farther off that they may be detecting, but why would they home in here. I didn’t urinate close by as that would have left a definite clue. I have an urge to open up my mind to sense what they are seeing but, again, I don’t dare, lest I reveal myself.
I run my thumb along the selector switch, ensuring I am on full auto. Looking down at the two full mags gives me a sense of security, but there is little of that with night runners on the prowl just scant feet away. A thump on the roof — side — draws my immediate attention. Something just landed over my head, and I’m pretty sure it isn’t Santa and his reindeer announcing their arrival. I hope the manufacturer who built this coffin prided themselves on workmanship. I didn’t feel the walls give when I was on top, but that doesn’t mean they won’t if several jump up on it.
Another thump on top follows. I now have two night runners above me. I hope the zombies I hauled on top cover any smell I might be giving off, or left behind. I’m now wishing I had the fortitude to cut them open as well. There’s a scraping as the two on top walk forward and come to a stop near the door.
Please don’t open the door…please don’t open the door, I think, listening intently for the squeak of a knob being turned.
As quietly as I can, I raise my barrel toward the door. If they open it and peer in, I’ll fire, but keep in my mind that they may just quickly drop through the opening. One of the night runners on top shrieks. I swear it vibrates the motor home with its intensity. I’m not sure what the shriek is about, but I’m hoping it isn’t one of discovery. I’ve heard that one far too many times. This one sounds a little different than the eagerness that’s portrayed when we’ve been found in one of their lairs. It still doesn’t make me feel very comfortable…like any of this does.
Bang!
A night runner slams against the side — which is actually the roof — of the motor home. I startle as my heart kicks up a notch, pounding furiously. It feels so loud in my chest that I’m sure the night runners can hear it outside. Another night runner pounds on the metal skin of the motor home by the door. Shrieks erupt in the night, filling the air. I stay still and silent.
I hear other screams mixing with the shrieks until I don’t think the air can hold any more. The pounding against the side and top cease. Footsteps run along the top as the night runners make for the front. It’s obvious something is up outside, but I don’t dare move. Whatever it is can’t be good. Outside, there is a large commotion. Shrieks…screams…footsteps pounding on the pavement. A loud thump against the side and something large, or several, slam into it. Snarling mixes in amongst the screams and shrieks. From the sound of it, it seems that a brawl is taking place.
What in the hell could be fighting the night runners? Surely it can’t be the zombie runners?
The possibility is so intriguing that I almost want to open up a window and watch. But, yeah, that’s not going to happen.
A shriek of agony momentarily rises above the other sounds. I hear the thumps of bodies on cars and just like that, the shrieks and screams diminish and then fade off into the night. I’m left with the silence in the aftermath of whatever occurred. The stench is still pervasive, but the sounds of anything nearby have vanished. Far off in the distance, there are faint sounds of gunshots — automatic gunfire at that. This perks me up a little as it’s indicative of someone else around. I was beginning to think the evidence I found earlier was just an illusion and that I was leading myself on. I’ll investigate in the morning provided I make it through the night. It’s still a long ways until dawn and anything can happen. I just hope the night runners don’t return…or whatever chased them off. I can’t imagine night runners running from anything and, if I hadn’t heard it first hand, I wouldn’t have believed it. I hope that whoever is firing makes it through the night and can tell me what the fuck is going on here. I’m so ready to go home and won’t complain about it ever again. Okay, I probably will, but I just want to see my kids again.