America The Dead Survivor Stories Five

The city is a refuge... Until they try to leave it... The trucks stopped a half mile away, and for several minutes there was absolute silence. Just as the sun began to sink, the first shots came. The battle began. Frank, Jessie, and Jeremiah, had been standing at the front of a line of trees, barely inside them, watching the trucks in the fading light. Jessie heard the crack of the rifle shot, muffled by distance, just an instant before Frank fell to the ground. Horror struck, she grabbed his hands and dragged him further into the woods. Even as she released his hands, and bent down beside him sobbing, she knew that he was badly wounded. The single bullet had taken him squarely in the chest, and he was losing far too much blood. Jeremiah hurried to her side, after he realized how badly Frank had been injured. Still, it didn't fully hit him until he dropped down beside him on the ground. Around them bullets whizzed through the trees, and some of their own began to return fire. Between them they managed to sit him up, resting his back against one of the moss covered tree trunks. Sitting up helped somewhat, his breathing did even out, but a huge amount of blood began to seep from his wounded chest. Jessie was sure he was going to speak. Convinced he would, when his eyes suddenly slipped shut, and he sagged back down to the ground. She tried to pull him back up. "No," she cried, as she tugged at his body. But he was too heavy, she couldn't move him, and he finally slipped all the way to the ground. Jimmy had run forward when the first shot had rang out, and Gary had been about to join him when he had seen Frank fall. He too had hurried to his side. As he watched, Sandy Watson gently pushed Jessie aside and began to work feverishly on Frank. Sandy was their only hope for Frank, he knew. She knew a little, but the wound looked mortal, and Gary became convinced that Frank was going to die. Might already be dead, he told himself, and if Frank died, was Jessie was going to fall apart? He was surprised when she suddenly stood, angrily brushed at the tears that streamed from her eyes, and headed back toward the front of the trees. Gary followed, Jeremiah behind him. It wasn't fair, Gary thought, it had happened too damn fast. He hadn't even been able to say good bye. None of them had. Tears stained his cheeks, as he lifted his own rifle and began to fire at the trucks. Jeremiah stood beside him, Jessie to his other side, and as the light began to fade completely they did their best to take out as many of the others as they could. The others, whoever they were, had the advantage, Jeremiah thought. They had the trucks to hide behind, and he was sure that a rifle scope could pick them out easily between the trees. He did his best to melt into the tree beside him, concentrated on their heads, and whenever one popped into his sights he squeezed the trigger. Jessie was carrying a fully automatic machine gun, and two spare two hundred round clips. She sighted on one of the trucks and watched as the truck began to be chewed apart. Squeeze, release, squeeze, release, the truck began to resemble a junk yard relic within seconds. Gary mowed down the occupants of that truck when they tried to flee, and had just sighted the last one, squeezed the trigger and watched him fall, when he heard Jimmy call out a short distance away. He turned quickly, his eyes searching frantically, but it was next to impossible to see in the shadows. He started to turn back when one of the bullets caught him. No sound at all, just a brief stinging sensation. He stumbled backwards, tried to think about what could have possibly happened, and then slumped to the ground...