let alone risk their lives.”
Clare knew he was right. She hoped the others here wanted to survive as much as she did.
“I need to talk to Dana then I’ll talk to them. I have a feeling they’ll be more receptive to me than you.”
Clare sat next to Dana and put an arm around her, using her other hand to touch the cheek of their little girl.
“How is baby, Sydney?”
“We’re not calling her that, Thistle is fine.”
“You’ll give in, but I need to do something so we’re safe.”
“I don’t like it, whatever it is I say no. I won’t lose you,” Dana said in a soft voice.
“Honey, I need to do this. Those loading doors aren’t going to hold. I have a plan, and Frank’s going to help. It should buy us enough time until reinforcements arrive.”
Dana looked at her wife of four years.
“Clare, I love you more than anything, and understand you need to do this, but promise you’ll come back to me.”
Clare looked into the eyes of her wife, partner, and soul mate. The woman who’d given her life meaning and purpose. She’d never lied to her, and this situation was no different.
“Dana, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you and our baby safe. I love you.”
Leaning over she gave Dana a passionate kiss. Then looked down at their daughter and kissed her on the forehead.
Clare spoke to the baby in Dana’s arms. “Sydney watch, she’ll give in.”
Dana smirked. “Can you say mama, Rootberry?”
Clare snorted, and then was up and walking down the stairs before Dana could stop her. She found Frank with his bike, a haunted look on his face.
“You okay?” Frank, the only one who knew how to use a gun, couldn’t get a case of the nerves now.
“Fine.”
“I’m going to get everyone together and go over the plan.”
Clare gathered the majority of the group downstairs and went over the plan. She made it voluntary; happy to see only five went back upstairs.
They set up as much of an interior barricade as possible, and blocked off the stairs to the upper level. Everyone was armed with some sort of weapon, it was time.
*
Clare nodded and Frank lifted the handle releasing the delivery doors. As the zombies swarmed inside, the first wave tripped on the chains and bits of debris laid out. One of the survivors swung their length of pipe with deadly accuracy. Heads were cracked, and in one case lobbed across the room.
Crates from above were dropped and crushed some of the incoming horde. Those still moving were taken care of with pieces of lumber, and boot covered feet. As the chaos expanded in the warehouse, the rest of the survivors moved out into the loading area to do their job.
Thomas ran outside with Frank and a couple of the others. The teenager worked at rigging the fuel tank to expel the fuel in a specific direction using some hose and other bits he picked up.
The others moved the dumpster and took out a few zombies while they were at it. The hole had been blocked, but the zombies trapped by the barricade now attacked them.
“Hurry up kid, we have to go,” Frank yelled.
“Just a second.”
Frank hacked at the zombies, the others fought alongside him swinging bats and pipes, trying to get in as many blows to the head as they could. Frank brought his knife down on a zombie splitting its head open. Brain matter oozed out as the body fell limply to the ground. A man next to him used a board to smack the face of a woman, teeth and bone flew everywhere.
Another volunteer used a broken pipe piece on the head of one of the zombies. Nothing happened, the zombie still stood, looking at the man. Within seconds he was swarmed, screaming as they tore his arms off and dug into his stomach eating him as he watched.
The ground covered in bloody bits and gore; various internal organs caused people to slip. In a rush of rage one of the members of the group ran towards the zombies and jammed a shard of glass in its head. The surrounding zombies took him down immediately. A good
Jean; Wanda E.; Brunstetter Brunstetter