Mitch Dugan and Esmeralda Lopez+11

Zombie or Post Apocalyptic themed fiction/stories.

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Re: Mitch Dugan and Esmeralda Lopez+11

Post by DTyra » Thu Sep 26, 2013 10:54 pm

Les Bund Part Four

“Hello, the house! All the Crazies are dead! It’s safe to come out!”

John Connolly shouted from the second floor balcony, “We’re up here! Thanks for the help!”

Seeing Connolly’s and Hyde’s uniforms, the man walked closer as he looked up, “You guys are cops?”

“Yeah,” Connolly answered. “These people gave us shelter when our patrol unit was damaged and they are going to try and get me and my partner back the UPD Station.”

“Oh yeah? That’s where my employees and I are headed. We heard the police station was surrounded and we thought we’d see if we could give them a hand.” He pointed out past the second truck, “I’ve got two more armored trucks in the street, do you want to ride in with us?”

While the men were talking back and forth, Les climbed down into the inside of the garage and then out the door. He walked up and joined the man from the truck talking while nodding at the other two who were making sure the infected were definitely dead.

Holding out his hand he said, “I’m Les Bund, the owner of the house. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your help.”
“No problem, my name is Gus Banner,” the man said as he shook Les’ hand. “We saw all the Crazies headed your way and thought we’d see what was going on. It looks as though you had a pretty good handle on things though.”

Les laughed, “Maybe, but I was sure glad when you guys showed up and opened fire.” Pointing at the logo on the side of the armored truck les asked, “Banner Armored Transport; can I assume you’re the owner?”

“Yeah, my dad was the original owner and I took over when he passed away.”

Les saw several of his people come out of the house and approaching, “We were just getting ready to drive the two policemen in ourselves, maybe we can join up with your group and give you a hand at the police station?”

“What kind of vehicle do you have?”

“Crew cab dually with a stake bed on the back; we just finished screwing plywood to the sides to give us some protection from the infected.”

“Well, I’ve seen some of these infected crazies jump and climb pretty high; are you sure you want to try that?”
“Do you have room inside of your trucks for more shooters?”

“Not really, I’ve got a man for every gun port and it’s kind of cramped in there with our supplies and extra ammo.”

“I guess we’re back to my truck then,” Les said.

“How many armed folks do you have?” Gus asked.

Gayle came out of the house and stood next to Les as Les answered Gus, “With the two cops we have six men armed. I thought we would leave the women here where they will be safe in the house.”

“You might need a medic, Les,” Gayle said.

Frank came out of the house and walked to the driveway where he studied the second truck blocking the driveway. Satisfied no infected could get past the large vehicle he joined Gayle, Les and Gus.

Gus looked at Gayle, “Are you a trained medic?”

“I’m a nurse,” she said, “And Les has a pretty good trauma kit I can use. Another point is I can shoot rather well.”
“She can,” Les said. “But I’d rather…”

“Good!” Gus said. “You might come in pretty handy. It might be best if you ride in one of my trucks though.”

“Gayle,” Les said. “If you come there won’t be anyone here that’s familiar with firearms.”

“My wife is,” Frank said. “She would need a gun though.”

“I have a spare SKS, what about your daughter?”

“She can shoot alright,” Frank said. “But she’s only thirteen. I’m not real comfortable with her being armed in a high stress situation and like my wife, she doesn’t have a gun.”

Gayle picked at the shoulder strap of her web gear as she said, “With the SKS, all this ammo, and the trauma kit I’m going to be overloaded; why don’t I leave the SKS for your daughter and she can back-up your wife and my sister?”
“What weapon will you use for protection?” Gus asked.

“Les gave me a pistol,” she answered. “And I can carry five or six spare mags.”

Everyone looked at each other for a moment and then Gus said, “Sounds good to me, but we need to make a decision right now; I want to get back on the road.”

Gayle started backing up as she said, “Just give me a minute to go over the guns with Frank’s wife and daughter and switch out to the pistol and extra magazines.” She turned and hurried away.

Gus watched her leave and then said, “You’re wife seems to have her shit together.”

“She’s not my wife,” Les said.

“Really?” Gus looked back at her as she disappeared into the house. “I sort of thought the two of you were together because of how she stood next to you. Is she with someone else?”

“No,” Les answered rather abruptly.

Gus smiled, “Maybe soon?”

Les pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, “I’ll pull my truck out of the garage and get some supplies loaded. We’ll need bottled water and some form of food in case we’re out for a while.”

“Okay,” Gus said as he watched Les quickly walk away.

In the garage, Les loaded two cases of bottled water and one case of MREs. Gus had said he had supplies in his armored trucks so Les wasn’t concerned about supplying his men. He glanced at his tank of diesel fuel and fuel cans, but the police station wasn’t that far from his home and he didn’t anticipate needing more than what the main fuel tank of his truck already held. Opening his garage door he then pulled the truck out and closed the door behind him. One bad thing he hadn’t ever thought of; the canteens and butt pack on his web gear seriously hampered his driving by pushing him into the steering wheel. Starting to take his LBE off he saw Roger come out the back door of his house and hand Frank a series of ammo pouches that Frank slung over one shoulder and a large canteen he placed over the opposite shoulder; Roger was wearing the same set-up.

Les waved them over and when they joined him he asked, “Frank, the gear I’m wearing makes it difficult to drive the truck, but I see you and Roger have different set-ups, would you mind driving with Roger as your shotgun?”

“No, I don’t mind, but does your truck have an automatic transmission, or a stick?”

“It’s a manual transmission, you can drive one, right?”

“I can, but Roger has never driven a stick, if he has to take over for me…”

“Damn,” Les said. “Okay, we’ll just have to deal with it some…” Gayle walked out with the trauma kit slung over one shoulder and stood talking to Gus until Les waved to her. When she joined them Les asked, “Gayle, can you drive a stick shift?”

“It’s been a while, but it’s like riding a bike, so yeah.”

“Have you ever driven a large truck?”

“Yeah, I worked for my Dad’s delivery service when I was going to college.”

“Okay, can you ride in the backseat in case Frank is incapacitated in some way, so you can take over?”

“Okay, but if someone is injured and they need me to work on them and I need to drive…”

“Shit,” Les said. He looked around and called Gary over. “Gary, you can drive a stick shift, right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, you ride shotgun for Frank and Roger will ride in back with me, John, and Darin.”

“Okay,” Gary answered.

“Everyone ready?” He asked. Everyone nodded, “Okay, let’s load up.” As everyone began to get into the cab or the back of the truck Les walked to Gus.

“Gus, are you ready?”

“Yeah, do you have a CB radio in your truck?”

“No, but I have four walkie-talkies that I pass out to guys on my work crews so we can talk on the job.”

“Good, we have CBs even though we don’t use them much. How about we all tune in to channel one and go from there?”

“Sounds good,” Les said. “What route are you going to take to the station?”

“The most direct route; we’ll go straight down Euclid to 13th and then straight over to the police station.”

“Alright,” Les said. “We’ll follow your trucks, okay?”

“You bet,” Gus said as he directed the driver of the truck blocking the driveway to back out before he climbed into his own.

Les ran to the back door of his house and stepped inside, “Emily! We’re leaving now, so lock all the doors and do not go outside for any reason what-so-ever, okay?”

Emily walked into the kitchen, “Okay, Les. Tell Gary and Gayle to be careful, please?”

“We will be,” he answered. "I don’t think we’ll be gone long, but if we are don’t worry about it.”

She nodded as Les closed the door and then climbed into the back of his dually. Stepping to the front he tapped on the rear slider window and motioned for Gayle to unlock it, which she did.

“Gayle, there are walkie-talkies in the center console. Give one to me, one to Gary, and you keep one, okay?”
She nodded and pulled the radios from the console and passed them out, “I guess this is it, huh?” Her eyes were rather round and as she handed Les his radio she squeezed his hand, “You guys be careful back there.”

Les smiled and squeezed her hand in return as he asked, “When this is all over, maybe we can get a cup of coffee together sometime?”

“Here, or in San Diego?”

“Well, uh, wherever you want.”

She smiled as she said, “Sure.”

He told her to close and lock the rear window as he stood and grabbed the top of the plywood siding as Frank turned onto Euclid and followed the armored trucks.

John moved next to Les and asked, “So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan? Shit, I have no idea and we won’t until we get there.”

John smiled, “Cluster fuck, I feel right at home.”

“Ow!” Roger said loudly. “I got a splinter!”

Les glanced at him as Roger hooked his elbow over the side of the plywood and began to dig at his palm with his fingernails. Darin leaned close to examine Roger’s hand and then looked him in the eye, “Do you want to know what we said when someone got wounded in Afghanistan?”

Roger looked up at the big policeman and asked, “What?”

“Rub some dirt on it and get back in the fight.”

They stood there staring at one another and finally Darin laughed as he rubbed Roger’s hair and turned away. Roger frowned and then held his hand up to the sun trying to see the splinter. Les turned around and saw Gus’ trucks make the turn at 13th and head west. Frank followed them. At Mountain Boulevard two of the armored trucks went through the signal and two others were stopped as the light turned red. Frank stopped behind them and waited as the first two trucks slowed to a stop on the other side of the intersection and waited for them. Behind them a pickup truck with half a dozen armed men in the back pulled up and stopped as well.

“Jesus,” Les said aloud. “We’re trying to rescue the police and we’re waiting on a damn red light!”


Les turned around and saw one of the men in the rear of the pickup waving at him. “Yeah?”

“Are you headed for the UPD Station?”

“Yeah! You too?” Les asked.

“Yeah! We’re going to follow you guys, alright?”

“Sounds good!” Les shouted back.

The light turned green and the growing convoy of volunteers accelerated through the intersection. Darin was speaking into his radio and suddenly shouted at Les, “Get on your radio! Tell Gus not to approach the station from the east; a group of civilian militia has blocked the road just west of the station and are shooting at the infected down 13th in our direction!”
Les immediately passed the word to Gus and the armored trucks slowed to a halt. Darin was listening to his radio again and finally said, “The station is organizing all the shooters they can contact. They want to set up an ELL shaped formation with the foot at the west entrance to the station and everyone else on the south side of the street. They’re suggesting anyone that wants to help to get on the roofs of the modular homes across the street from the station so they can fire down at the infected and be somewhat safe from them and from friendly fire.”

Les relayed the information to Gus and then Darin spoke again. “I told them we had four armored transport trucks and the Chief says if the trucks were to bear down on the crowd of infected they could literally kill hundreds by simply running over them!”

Once again Les relayed the information and discussed with Gus what they should do. Finally, he turned to those around him as John fired his patrol carbine at a nearby infected. “We’re going to turn around and drive back down Mountain to see if we can find a way over to the modular home tract the Chief told us about. Gus will keep his trucks here until we are in position and then make a run down 13th with two of the trucks to see what kind of damage he can do. While he’s doing that we start picking off the infected from the roofs of the houses across the street. Is everyone good with that?”
From behind him Les heard someone from the pickup shout, “Hey! My aunt used to live in there and I know how to get there from here! Do you want to follow us?”

“Lead the way!” Les shouted.

They definitely knew where they were going and how to get there, but first they had to put down several infected before they could dismount from the trucks. Once out they searched until they found several ladders and the two groups of shooters climbed to the roofs of the modular homes that overlooked 13th. Without delay, they set about firing into the mass of infected milling about the police station. Les called Gus on his radio and informed him they were in position and within moments two of Gus’ armored trucks accelerated down 13th towards the police station. As the trucks approached, Les and his fellow shooters slacked off on their gunfire to observe the effects they would have on the crowd. The infected at the east end of the crowd turned at the sound of the trucks and began running towards them as the heavy vehicles bore down on them like juggernauts. The trucks began slamming into the people running towards them; the bodies were literally being propelled dozens of feet away as they were struck. Those that were thrown forward and down in front of the vehicles were crushed by the weight of the vehicles as they passed over them. They were twisted, turned, and torn apart as their bodies tumbled beneath the speeding behemoths. Finally, the trucks hit the main body of the infected and Les was stunned by the sheer butchery that resulted.

Beside him, Gayle whimpered, “Oh, my God!” She turned away and covered her mouth with her hands.
Of all the shooters on the roofs only one man cheered as the others simply stared at the carnage. All firing ceased as they tried to accept what they were seeing. Les finally shook himself and then shouted, “Don’t stop firing! We have to stop as many as we can while they are confused! Shoot for the head!”

Everyone resumed firing as the trucks slowed and finally came to a stop as the drivers began to turn the vehicles around. Then the second two trucks began their run up 13th as the first two began to pick up speed and once again pass through the crowd headed back east. Where the four trucks passed each other going in opposite directions a cloud of red mist exploded upwards and outwards. Reaching their turn around points they once again reversed their directions and once again began to race towards one another, this time though two of the trucks speeding over the pavement, turned slippery with blood and body parts, clipped one another as they passed. The truck heading west lost complete control, swerved up onto the sidewalk, struck a lamppost, then flipped onto its side in front of the police station and in the midst of the largest portion of uninjured infected.

The wrecked truck was instantly swarmed by the infected and they began to cover it with their bodies as the scrambled over it seeking a way in. Les, and several others concentrated their rifle fire at the infected on and around the vehicle, but within moments a frantic cry came over the radio.

“Do not fire at the truck’s bottom! The protection there is weak and high velocity bullets are penetrating the metal floor!”
Les warned the others and then shifted his fire to the side and top of the armored truck, but turned as Gayle frantically pulled on the sleeve of his shirt. He couldn’t hear what she was saying over the incessant gunfire, but he could see where she was pointing; a group of infected were climbing the low block wall that separated the housing tract from 13th. He shifted his aim and began shooting them. In his haste, he started aiming for the torsos of the crazies because he feared too many would make it to a point below the houses where he wouldn’t be able to hit them. Maybe they would bleed out before they reached the ladders…the ladders!

Les spun about and started to run to the ladder they had used to access the roof they were on, but Gayle was already there pulling the light-weight aluminum ladder up to the roof where she dropped it. She then raced to the edge of the roof and began to wave her arms at the men shooting from the next roof. She finally gained the attention of one of them and with a propitious lull in the shooting warned him to pull their ladder up also. The man ran to where the ladder was at, started to lean over to pull it up, then stopped, swung up his bolt action rifle, fired and then twice more downwards. Dropping the rifle beside him, he grabbed the ladder and tried to pull it up, but it snapped back down. He lost his balance and teetered back and forth before finally tipping too far and fell head first off of the roof.

Gayle screamed for help as she drew her pistol and emptied the magazine at the bottom of the ladder. Les ran to her and fired once into the mass of infected that were boiling over the fallen man, but had to stop and reload his rifle with another stripper clip from one of his pouches. By the time he was reloaded and began to fire into the crowd, the man who had fallen was dead. Two more men ran to the ladder and while one shot the infected trying to climb it, the second pulled the ladder up and out of the infected’s reach. Once the ladder was up, the two men looked over the side at the gruesome spectacle below. One of the men covered his eyes as the second started shooting into the crowd.

Les joined in until all of the infected were down. Glancing over at the two men, he saw one of them reload his bolt action rifle with only three rounds. They were using hunting rifles that could only hold three cartridges legally. Though he wished he had high capacity magazines, he was glad his SKS at least held ten. Returning to his original position, Les saw the three remaining armored trucks had pulled up next to the overturned one and were closely parked to it. Gunfire was erupting from the trucks gun ports.

The day passed slowly as Les and his friends’ ammo supply became depleted. When the sun began to lower itself in the west the gunfire began to slow and finally stopped as the infected fell one after the other until there were none left. Oddly, before the shooting died away, some of the infected that had previously lay on the street rose and began to stumble about, but they were not only shot, they were also attacked by the infected surging around them. Les couldn’t fathom why the infected should turn on their own; he hadn’t seen them do it before.

In the end, the militia group that had blocked the west end of 13th came out from behind their vehicles and slowly progressed down 13th to the east shooting the infected one last time to be sure they were finished. Checking his pouches, Les discovered he only had twenty rounds left. He had never been particularly religious, but he thanked God his ammo had lasted the day. Les wasn’t the only person short on ammunition; everyone in his group were either out, or almost out of ammo.

Everyone on the roofs stayed where they were until the members of the militia had passed by before lowering their ladders and leaving the roofs of the modular homes. Boarding their trucks, Les had Frank follow the pick-up out onto 13th and into the driveway of the police station where John and Darin said their goodbyes and entered the station to report in. As Les watched, Gus and his followers attempted to return the overturned armored truck to its wheels, but the road and sidewalk surfaces were too slick with blood for the other trucks to gain purchase. Gus decided to return the next day with a wrecker and reclaim the truck.

After gathering up Gayle, Frank, Roger, and Gary, Les had Frank return to his house where they unloaded and then set to the task of repairing the broken gate to Les’ backyard and garage. Throughout the remainder of the day they had to periodically gather together and take out small groups of infected that were drawn to the sound of Les’ work tools. As the sun set, they entered the house and sat down to a meal prepared by Frank’s wife, Emily, and Gayle.

Once they had finished eating they sat down together in the living room and filled in those who had stayed, with what had happened during the fight at the UPD station.

“Emily and I listened to the news today,” Frank’s wife said. “They say armed civilians everywhere started going out in groups and killed the infected. They say if we keep it up we may see a slowing and maybe even a complete stop to the crazy plague.”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Les said, but he looked concerned.

Gayle rose from where she was sitting and sat next to Les, “You don’t think so?” She asked.

“No, I think if everyone continues with what we did today, then yes, I think we can eventually get control of the infected, but there are other things to consider.” He looked at Frank’s wife and asked, “Were there any estimates of how many people have been infected or killed?”

Emily answered, “They said tens of thousands of people have been killed and quite a bit more infected.”

Les nodded, “I was afraid that might be the case.”

Gayle listened intently to what he said, and then asked, “What else are you concerned about?”

Les looked around the room before he answered her, “I’m wondering how many of the dead, or infected, had jobs that were critical to our infrastructure? How many people would we have to lose before things start to break down? Can we hold things together until others can be trained to take the place of those we have lost? I don’t know.”

“Jesus,” Gayle said. “Even if we manage to actually get control of the infected we could be looking at some real trouble down the road.”

Les raised his head and looked into her eyes, “I think so,” he said. “If we have lost too many people with the knowledge we need, how long will it take for that loss of capability to catch up to us?”

“If things get a little better,” Gayle said. “I’d like to drive home to San Diego and maybe bring some of my belongings here until we know for sure how things are going to turn out. You know, my guns and other preps I have put away.” She reached out and squeezed Les’ hand, “If I thought I’d be welcome.”

“You’d be more than welcome,” Les replied. “Maybe I could drive you down?”

She smiled as she said, “I think I’d like that.”
You weren't born with a silver spoon in your mouth; you were born with a shovel up your ass, so pull it out and start digging!
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Re: Mitch Dugan and Esmeralda Lopez+11

Post by airdrop » Sat Sep 28, 2013 10:59 pm

This has been a great read ,thanks very much :)

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Re: Mitch Dugan and Esmeralda Lopez+11

Post by Spazzy » Wed Oct 23, 2013 2:11 pm

Just finished this thread, enjoyed it very much. Thanks!
Any plans to continue?
Overheard at my USN retirement ceremony....
"So he's not a team player then?"
"You mean Spazz...? Hes not even a fan of the team."

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Re: Mitch Dugan and Esmeralda Lopez+11

Post by DTyra » Wed Oct 23, 2013 10:27 pm

Thanks for asking Spazzy and yes, there will be more shorts in the future. The story of Les Bund was simply an excursion into an alternate storyline, so any further tales will probably be more inline with the Behind a Veil of Darkness Books. I'm glad you enjoyed the thread.
You weren't born with a silver spoon in your mouth; you were born with a shovel up your ass, so pull it out and start digging!
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Re: Mitch Dugan and Esmeralda Lopez+11

Post by DTyra » Thu Jan 14, 2021 12:45 am

For those who may be interested, I have recently finished another book that I am providing for free at my blog site. The name of the book is, ASYLUM, and it follows a construction worker through his many trials after a world-wide epidemic.

This story is not zombie fiction and is not connected to the Behind a Veil of Darkness stories.

The Prolog and 1st chapter have been posted and there are many more to follow. I will be posting one chapter a week until the book is completly published on my site. In case you're wondering, the book is finished, almost 400,000 words, so you won't be left hanging and wondering how it was going to end.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did wrriting it.
You weren't born with a silver spoon in your mouth; you were born with a shovel up your ass, so pull it out and start digging!
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Re: Mitch Dugan and Esmeralda Lopez+11

Post by 2T2-Crash » Wed Feb 03, 2021 2:06 pm

I love all the short stories. Your a helluva writer.

Edited to add;
Just read all three of the series: excellent work, Thankyou!

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Re: Mitch Dugan and Esmeralda Lopez+11

Post by DTyra » Wed Mar 03, 2021 12:30 am

Thanks for the kind words, Crash. I'm glad you enjoyed the writings. Have you been reading Asylum? If so, what do you think?
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