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His eyes grew large for a moment, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as we heard a huge cacophony below us. Apparently the new-and-improved zombies, or whatever the hell they were, were not content with the fact that some of their brethren were going to eat while they stayed in the shadows. I’ve got to imagine the entire hunting party came out of the small copse of woods to confront the zombies that were impeding their way.

It was a full on assault to get to the ladder. The zombies had superior numbers, but the howlers were more aggressive and had a plan as they forged ahead. It wouldn’t take them more than a minute or two to climb that ladder once they got in the well, and there was no doubt in my mind they were going to make it. Would they come out one at a time from the opening? Like a whack-a-mole perhaps. That would make my life a lot easier. Odds were the first couple would, then they’d crawl through the rungs, grabbing onto the structure and coming up from multiple areas. We were in a world of hurt.

“Didn’t you say you loved heights?” John asked, looking at the same scene I was.

One howler was able to rip and rend its way through a dozen zombies before succumbing to sheer numbers. The carnage was horrific. If this battle had been between humans, I would have walked away long ago, I’ve got to admit, I was slightly thrilled they were destroying each other. It was kind of like playing the board game Risk, nothing is quite as rousing as watching your opponents square off and destroy each other so that you can come in and mop up the mess. Stakes were obviously higher, but the same concept. I hoped they completely destroyed each other; let the devil sort them out.

The howlers had created a phalanx. They made a wedge, driving themselves through the zombie ranks and allowing their kind to gain access to the ladder. They didn’t even bother with the turned over aluminum ladder, they just leaped up and grabbed the rung.

“Shit, they made that look easy. Time’s running out. Where you going?” I asked John.

“Come on, man, you’re going to love this.”

I didn’t…not even by a long shot. I’d circled this stupid tower more than a dozen times, and I don’t know if I had turned a blind eye on the thing because I just didn’t want to acknowledge its existence or what. But on the far side from the ladder that came up here was a ladder that was adhered to the tank itself. Unlike its predecessor, it did not contain the encompassing safety shroud.

“Not a fucking chance,” I told John as I looked up the small ladder built into the tank.

It went all the way up to the domed top. The beauty of it was that this was truly a one way up deal. The rest of the tank was completely smooth, no handholds whatsoever. Oh, I’m sure Spider-Man could make it up, but I hadn’t seen any sucker hands on the howlers.

“Climb or die, Ponch,” Trip told me as he started up.

“Are you sure those are my only two options? I mean there has to be a third, like maybe a flight for life. That would be perfect.”

John was still climbing. The tower was reverberating with the sheer number of climbers on board. I hated to admit it, but John’s words were prophetic. It was really as simple as climb or die, although I was more inclined to think it was climb AND die. As if in response to my dour prediction, the wind picked up just as I grabbed the bottom most handhold.

“Really, God?” I asked, looking up. “How about a nice torrential downpour accompanied by lightning strikes…now, that would really liven things up. You know I’m kidding, right?” I wanted to make sure HE or SHE knew that.

The New Age zombies were close, they weren’t ‘talking’ as to give themselves away, but I could hear the grunts of their exertions and the twanging of metallic parts as they clanged off of them. I looked up, John was nearing the top where the ladder angled over, following the curve of the roof line. Had to be at least another fifty feet up. And then what was up there? I’m sure there wasn’t some nice seating arrangement complete with safety harnesses. Gorge was threatening, and it may have finally found release if it wasn’t for the soft vibrations I felt under my feet. Something had just made it on the landing with me. I started climbing. I didn’t like it, not one fucking bit, but I started climbing.

I was a good twenty feet off the parapet, going at a pace I’m sure a grandmother would be proud of, but no one else, when John shouted down.

“You’ve got a follower!” he shouted down over the rising wind.

A howler had found the ladder and subsequently…me. I hate heights; I also hate being eaten. I know, I know, my wife says I’m high maintenance all the time.

“Move so I can get a shot!” John shouted.

He was leaning far over, way more than I figured was safe. The slingshot, which I thought was no better than a novelty weapon, was now looming large in my eyes. That shiny steel ball looked like it had murderous intent when you’re staring up at it.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea!” I told him.

“Move in closer to the ladder, man, I’ve got this!” he said, I guess trying to comfort me.

“I get any closer, John, and me and this thing are going to mate!” I told him, but when I felt a hand clamp on my shin, I just about melted in with the metal.

I wondered what I’d name my offspring. Maybe “Chutes” (think about it). Would he be a Step-son? I think weird things when I’m petrified. I felt a metal ball graze my cheek. It caught my attacker high in the forehead. I heard the sickening thwack as his skull fractured. Blood plumed from the wound. I don’t think it killed him as he fell away, pretty sure the bouncing off the railing twenty-five feet below and then spinning wildly the other two hundred and something feet and merging with the concrete did him in.

“Holy fuck,” I said; gripping the ladder tighter if that was even possible.

“Misfire!” John shouted.

“What?”

“It went off before I meant to let it go, they really should put a safety on these.”

I don’t know if he was kidding or not, but I wanted off this ladder. I felt a slight vibration as another howler hopped on for the chase.

“Move, John!” I told him as I was coming up fast.

It was going to take a little bit of luck to get up to where the ladder sloped, then get the rifle off my back and aimed at my pursuer, but I’d be damned if I was going to chance my existence to another errant ball bearing. I was hauling ass, well compared to my earlier pace, I suppose, but the thing behind me was rocketing up. This was going to be close. I just crested the top, with my right hand, I grabbed the first rung that led onto the gentler slope of the roof. With my left, I began to shift my rifle from back to front. When the rifle came to my side, I was already spinning so that my ass would land on my previous handheld. The ladder was just about wide enough for this. A few more years of office work, and that might not have been the case; pancakes and value meals would have had me slid right down the runners.

I thumped down hard, my teeth clicking as I did so. I quickly thumbed the safety off and looked out. The howler was in flight. IN FUCKING FLIGHT! He must have launched himself from the ladder! He was on a collision course for me. All I saw was his angry, ashen face, gnashing teeth and outstretched, hooked hands approaching. I had enough time to bring my rifle up. It caught him flush on the throat, his forward progress was slowed as his weight pushed me back and down. I pulled the trigger, thankful it was on auto. Three rounds tore his neck wide open, blood sluiced from him. His head fell over to the devastated side, his spinal column nearly severed. He fell away. I shuddered when I heard him make contact below.

I didn’t have much time to recover. I scooted back a couple of feet so that I was completely on the roof. I planted my feet on the rungs below me and waited. Well, waited seems the wrong word, that implies that there was a delay. The next howler was poking his head up before the repercussions of his brethren had died down. I thought this one was going to give me the finger when he realized I had blown the side of his face off, a spray of teeth blowing in the wind as he fell away. Three more came up this way and met the same fate before they must have had a regrouping strategy below.