Aim… fire…
She reloaded as quickly as possible and kept firing. The zombies were pushing hard against the truck and tiny tremors could be felt under their feet.
Mike fired with precision and swiftness. She tried to match him the best she could.
Each mangled, screaming, distorted face that dissolved into bloody mist beneath their assault made the knots in her stomach ease just a bit. They were thinning the crowd, making them pay for what they had become. She hated them. She fiercely, passionately hated them, and each time their head burst beneath the hail of bullets, she felt her smile grow.
Ten minutes in, the killing in full swing, she started to reload. It was then a zombie came up over the sandbags and began to charge her. She was so startled by his abrupt appearance that she was surprised when her hand automatically drew her revolver and shot a nice little hole into it’s head.
"Fuck," Mike exclaimed.
Another was scrambling rather easily onto the truck.
Mike took this one down, firing over Jenni's head.
Jenni stood up and Mike quickly went back to firing into the area that he was assigned.
"Cover that area, Jenni," he said.
She stepped cautiously toward the edge and blinked, then blinked again in horror. "Juan, get us the fuck off of here!"
By killing the zombies toward the front of the crowd, they had inadvertently made a nice little ramp of bodies right up to the truck.
Two more zombies rose up at the far end of the truck and started to race for them. Jenni shot both of them.
"Fuck!" Mike grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Get us the hell off this thing!"
More zombies were beginning to charge now. At least four. Jenni kept firing, but more were coming.
Her body was jerked upwards so hard, the revolver fell from her hand and she gripped her rifle tightly with the other. Pain erupted through her back and arms as she was dragged upwards. The zombies kept coming. She curled her legs up to her chest as fast as she could, and they swung their arms under her trying to catch her. Being far taller, Mike was much longer, and one zombie gripped his leg. The large black man screamed in anger and fear and fired point blank into the zombie's face. Another grabbed his booted foot and was lifted with him. Mike kicked his leg hard, but the creature was tenacious and was trying to pull itself up to bite him.
Jenni tried to take aim with her rifle, but they were swinging a bit wildly due to being hoisted so quickly. "I can't get him. "
"Muthafucka," Mike snarled and kicked as hard as he could. The zombie fell and landed face first on a spike.
At least a dozen zombies had clambered up onto the truck now under them.
"Why aren't they swinging us back," Jenni screamed.
They were now lifted high enough that no zombie could grab hold.
"We're bait," Mike answered.
Sure enough, Jenni saw that all the zombies making their way up onto the trucks were pooling directly under the two humans hanging over them.
Sadly, Jenni saw their bags of ammo were getting trampled into the dirt.
They both hung there, over the zombies' heads, watching them leap and scream, trying to grab them.
"They can't take us toward the fort or they'll follow," Mike said. "And that will compromise everyone. "
"Do we shoot?" Jenni held tight to her rifle.
"Praying sounds good to me. Told you, the black man always gets it,"
Mike said grimly.
Twenty of the undead were now crowded onto the truck.