Free Rolling Thunder - 03 by Dirk Patton Page B

fought with her the one on
my back was frantically tearing at my vest and clothing, raking the back of my
neck with her nails as she tried to tear into me.  I tried to reach my Ka-Bar
but the female in front of me was pressed too tightly against my body for me to
draw the blade.
    Unexpectedly, the female on my back was gone and I was able
to apply enough force to the one in front to clear space, draw the knife and
bury it in her throat, twisting up until I hit the brain.  Rolling over her and
getting my feet under me, ready to battle the second one, I was momentarily
confused when I saw Rachel and Dog standing there looking at me.  Dog had
killed the first female when we were attacked and Rachel had dashed over and
yanked the second one off my back, allowing Dog to have the honor of finishing
her off.  I grinned my thanks, wiped the blade clean and sheathed it.
    These three had attacked silently.  So far I had only seen a
very few female infected that I was referring to as the smart ones that
attacked without mindless screaming.  Unfortunately it seemed as if we were
starting to encounter more and more of them.  Raising the rifle I scanned the
area, spotting a small group of males shambling our direction from a
neighboring warehouse.  They were still a safe distance away, but we didn’t
have time to be messing around.
    “In the shack,” I gestured to Rachel and Dog as I hopped
behind the wheel of the Dodge.  When they were safely inside I pulled the truck
up tight against the wall of the small building, front bumper pushing against
the chain link gate and driver side door lined up with the empty doorframe. 
This effectively blocked any infected from being able to enter the shack and I
was able to open the truck’s door right into the opening and step out of it and
into the shack.
    There was nothing notable about or in the shack so I quickly
moved to the steel door that opened onto the parking lot side of the gate. 
Rifle at the ready I started to reach forward to turn the knob but had to pause
a moment to change my grip on the rifle.  The latest anesthetic that Rachel had
injected me with a few hours ago was wearing off and my hands were starting to
hurt.  Rachel noticed me pause and shake my hands in the air and gave me a
concerned look.
    “Bad?”  She asked.
    “They’re fine.  Just a little tender.”  I lied.
    “Bullshit.  Come over here and sit down.”
    “No time.  Later.”  I said, getting ready to open the door.
    Rachel stepped up and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from
the door.
    “Like I said, bullshit.  You’re hurting, and if you’re
hurting it’s going to affect you.  This will take five minutes at the most.  We
have that much time if we don’t waste any more of it arguing.”  Not releasing
my arm, she guided me over to a vacant chair and forcefully pushed me down into
it.  Digging through her pack, she found the supplies she needed and set about
working on my hands.  While she worked, the males I’d seen approaching had arrived.
They tried to squeeze between the truck and wall to get to the doorway but I’d
parked the truck with only a few inches of space left.  They couldn’t get to
us.  Dog walked over to the door and sat down to watch them.  Just in case.
    “Looks like your nose is broken.”  Rachel leaned sideways
and shone a small flashlight on my face.  “Actually, I think it’s an
improvement.  It’s straight now.”  Rachel finished treating my wounds and
quickly bandaged me up, took a moment to pack gauze into my nostrils to stop
the bleeding then re-stowed the supplies.  I thought about saying something
smart-ass back to her, but remembered she always found a way to get even so
decided to settle for thanking her for treating me.
    It had only taken maybe three minutes and though I wouldn’t
admit it I was glad she had insisted.  The numbness in my hands was welcome
after the sharp, burning pain that had been growing worse by the minute.