The Z Contingency

Chapter 63

The four men arrived back at the Zombie Prepper's compound. Bubba's tracking skills were not needed; it was clear to even a casual observer that Clarence had made a beeline back in that direction. Even in the dim light, they could see Clarence's still form ahead. He was on his knees, kneeling a about thirty yards in front of the compound gate with his head bowed down. If he had been at a cemetery, he would not have looked out of place among the grieving. Even though they could not see the bloodstained clothes or the exit wounds from the bullets that had torn through his body, they knew Clarence was dead.

Certain that the approach was closely watched, and not wanting to suffer Clarence's fate by trying to sneak up to the body across seventy yards of open ground to retrieve Clarence's pack, Bubba called out. "This is Bubba. You gave us safe passage through your territory yesterday. We have only returned because this man who trespassed back on your land stole something from us. We only want to retrieve it, and we will leave in peace." The group waited for a response from the compound, but only received silence. Bubba turned to Simon and asked, "You think they're still there? Should I risk it?"

"They're still there." Simon replied. "And I don't think there's any choice but to get that pack. You want me to go?"

Bubba thought for a moment before he answered as he sized up Simon. "You any good with a rifle?"

"I'm a halfway decent shot, I suppose."

"I think I'll have a better chance of going up there without them taking a shot at me." Bubba turned back toward the compound and shouted, "I'm coming out! I will just go to the body, collect his things, and walk away. I am not armed." He handed the rifle to Simon and added "Wish me luck."

Bubba slowly made his way toward the body, repeating his message every few seconds, as the group watched, holding its collective breath. All except for Simon, who continuously scanned back and forth across the compound, looking for any signs of trouble.

Bubba walked slowly and deliberately up to the body, removed the pack from Clarence's back , and confirmed the packages of ramps were inside, Simon suddenly stiffened as he caught the glint of the rising sun off of a rifle barrel. He brought Bubba's rifle up to his eye, and fired off two shots just as a bullet hit the ground in front of Bubba's left foot, sending a spray of dirt into the air. Bubba immediately started running back toward the group sheltered among the trees, zig-zagging erratically as he did so to make himself a harder target. Every couple of seconds, a shot or two would ring out from the compound and small explosions of dirt would erupt near Bubba's feet. Each of these shots would be answered by reports from Simon's gun, and each of his bullets would find a target. Anyone unlucky enough to be standing when he was hit toppled back into the compound or over the wall onto the hard ground below. After each bullet was fired from Simon's gun, the period of silence between shots from the compound would grow longer, and soon, there were no more shots coming from the compound at all.

Bubba stopped running, several feet away from safety, and turned around to look. There were three more bodies on the ground near Clarence's, all of them were broken or contorted from the fall. His look of amazement was then turned to Simon. "You shot them all." Bubba could not hide the awe in his voice, "You hit each one on the first shot."

"No. It took two shots for me to drop the first guy." Simon handed the rifle back to Bubba. "Very nice," he said admiringly. "It's a Winchester. Model 70 if I'm not mistaken, right?"

Bubba nodded. "Halfway decent shot, my ass," muttered Bubba with a huge grin on his face.

As the two men got up to see where the others were at, a gunshot rang from the darkness behind them to the right.

"They must have others on the perimeter. Damn it! Where's Tyler?"