Free Rolling Thunder - 03 by Dirk Patton

boots sank into the
saturated ground.  Halfway to the river and the water was over the tops of my
boots.  I only needed to take a few more steps to realize the river was
flooding and already over its banks.  The swollen water was running fast, way
too fast for any of us to risk going in.  There was an occasional banging noise
coming from the barricade and I peered through the scope to try and identify
the source.  Eventually I happened to be looking at the right spot when the
noise sounded again.  The rushing river was carrying bodies along with tree
limbs and other debris.  I watched as a body slammed into the metal barricade
before being whisked away by the water.  OK, not going that way.
    Turning, I was happy to see Rachel with her rifle up and
watching our rear.  I stepped next to her and filled her in on what I had
seen.  “Could you tell if it was infected or not?”
    “No.  All I could see was lots of bodies being carried on
the current.  Couldn’t even make a guess.”
    “Couple of males crossing the road near the truck.”  Rachel
said, keeping her rifle up and aimed as she watched them through the scope.  I
spotted them easily enough, but decided to conserve ammo since they were moving
parallel to us and seemed to be unaware of our presence.
    “I think the only option we have left is to try and go
through the warehouse this barricade butts up against.  I’m sure there will be
doors on the far side, and hopefully they aren’t welded shut.”
    Rachel nodded and I headed back toward the pavement, Rachel
on one side of me and Dog on the other.  He was completely soaked by now and
walked with his head hanging down, a constant stream of water running off the
end of his muzzle onto the ground.  I tried to feel sorry for him, but I was
just as wet.
    The warehouse we needed to get through was one of the
largest buildings I had ever seen that wasn’t a sports stadium.  It was built
from red brick and as tall as the barricade.  The wall that faced the river was
at least 400 feet long, but the wall that fronted the road was closer to 800. 
The longer wall was fitted with a loading dock that ran its entire length and
had more roll-up doors than I could count.    Every 100 feet there was a ramp
up from the parking lot with a metal access door at the top.  None of these had
a handle on the exterior and had most likely been put there to meet the local
fire code for emergency exits.
    Our first obstacle was a 20 foot high chain link fence that
surrounded the parking lot.  There were also a couple of dozen infected males
shambling around the parking lot, bumping into parked trucks or trailers as
they moved.  The parking lot itself was a maze with semi-trucks parked all over. 
There were probably a thousand hiding places for the infected and we’d have to
be very careful as we moved through, but first we had to get over or through
the fence.  Over was out.  There was no good way to get Dog over the fence. 
That meant through it or under it.  We walked along the perimeter, looking for
a gate.
    We finally found it at the far end of the parking lot.  The
gate was actually a large guard shack with motorized sections of fence that
with the push of a button the guard could roll out of the way for incoming and
outgoing trucks.  The shack was wooden construction for the first four feet off
the pavement, then rows of windows above that to give the guards a good view of
the area.  It was dark inside the building, but using the night vision scope I
spotted three infected males wearing security uniforms.  They were all just
standing there as if they were still on duty.
    I also spotted the two doors in the shack.  One on the
outside of the fence, the other inside so the guards could move in and out
without having to open the gate.  Here was our way in, we just had to deal with
the infected.  Moving quietly I stepped up to the exterior door and gingerly
tried the knob, but it was locked tight.  The door