Chapter 9

Alexiev Sarkorsky

I looked up and down the side of the train, moving the M60 with my head. A belt of ammunition connected the gun to my backpack. I felt like this John Rambo I had seen from an american movie. It was times like this that made me wish I was American. They never had to reload in their movies. Hopefully, Salone would be useful. For once.

The moans continued to grow louder...more consistent, growing in volume. Up ahead on the tracks, I could see a group of zombies stumbling towards the train. Two shots blasted from the left side of the train. A two holes made their homes in the forehead of a zombie, causing it to snap back and fall to the ground. The others behind it fell, losing their balance over the now-unmoving corpse. THis Josh person was quite a shot. I pulled my M60 up to my shoulder, sighting in a zombie...then I heard it. A low, guttural moan behind me. I turned. Zombies! Zombies coming from behind! Screw it, Josh could deal with the front, I could take the back. I crouched down on my knees to give myself a more level position before opening fire. Round after round screamed through the air, blowing holes in their bodies and sending chunks of meat and bone flying. I tried to refine my aim, letting loose of the trigger and keeping it to short bursts whenever I could. I popped one in the the head, and it went down. I moved as quickly as I could while crouching to the back of the train. What was taking Salone so damn long? I moved closer, perfecting my aim as I put down three more. They didn't seem to move much, so that was a plus it seemed. Almost simple, in a way.

I finished with the group in the back before turning...what I saw made me want to cry for my mother. The front of the train was not surrounded, it was covered in zombie after zombie. Surrounding the front half completely. I stood, up, holding my gun like a normal rifle and hammering the trigger. Fire spewed from the barrel, hurling bullets through the air. They seemed completely unaffected! They only stopped when shot in the head...this seemed to be a very bad mistake on my part. The M60 was meant for mowing down people, not making headshots. I tried my best, aiming and firing off one or two rounds. Every now and then I seemed to hit one in the head, but the crowd was growing. They were still coming from the front. The bodies...the moaning...it was horrid. Like a ghastly chorus of undead. I couldn't hold myself back. This was too much, they were all around, surrounding us! I hit the trigger hard, screaming as I waved it back and forth. One fell. Another fell back. And then it happened...

The loud bursts of machine gun fire stopped. I hit the trigger as hard as I could. Nothing. I dropped my gun to waist level, looking it over. Dammit! A round had gotten caught in the breech of my gun, I had a jam! I dropped to the ground, working furiously, trying to get it unstuck. I had to be careful though-the jammed bullet might go off if I messed with it too much. The moaning...it seemed closer. I looked up. Near the back of a train, a zombie had managed to make it's way up the ladder. It was headed towards me! I was scooting myself back along the walkway, trying to fix the jam...but it was no use. It was stuck. It was stuck, and I was going to die while holding one of those most revered guns in the world.

The train started to hum...it roared to life. Finally, he had figured it out! But it was too late. We were going to escape, and I was dying. The zombie lurched closer...I kept moving back, trying to keep out of it's reach...I was shaking, I couldn't move anymore. I closed my eyes...suddenly I heard the sound of a three-round burst over my head, and something wet and cold splattered my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked up. Nikole stood above me, her M4 in her hands. Looking back across the walkway, I saw three holes in the zombie's face. Putting the stuff on my shoulder and the lack of an eye together, it appeared I had been hit with eye-bits. Better than being dead...or undead, I suppose.

She reached out a hand, helping me up. We wavered as the train jerked forward, moving slowly. From the other side of the train, I heard the burst of gunfire cease. Nikole turned to the front of the train, leaning over the rail to take a few shots. There was a large squelching sound, followed by a series of cracks and poppings...It sounded as if one had gotten ran over. We were picking up speed, moving...There was more squelching noises. Zombies seemed to roll past us...Nikole fired off a few shots as we moved. We were going faster now, too fast for them to follow. I sighed, giving one last heave on the ammunition belt before feeling it jerk free. It could be reattached later...

" Eh uh...thanks, for that. I'm going to go check on Josh."

Nikole nodded to me, giving me the hint of a smirk before turning and opening the cabin door, closing it behind her. I made my way to the back of the train, being careful to not fall off-I had already fought enough for this damn thing.

I looked around as I turned the corner. If I weren't already leaning back from the wind hitting me, I would have been reeling. The entire side of the train was covered in flesh and body parts. Organs, pieces of bone...everything.

"Josh!"

The only thing I heard was the echo of my voice. Out of all the carnage, he alone was missing. I winced every time I took a step; the pieces of body parts were everywhere. As I put my foot down, I hit something hard. I looked down.

An M4A1 Carbine. Josh's M4 Carbine.

I picked it up with a shaking hand. It was clipless, like it was still in the process of reloading. No, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't be gone...could he?

"JOSH!"

Again, no answer. Overhead, the sky darkened as clouds began to thunder. I felt myself tearing up...I leaned back against the train, sinking down to the hard steel beneath me. It seemed like all this had just hit home. It was real...my god, it was real. I closed my eyes, trying to hold back tears. Cold, wet rain stung my face leaving me unsure if I was crying or if it was just the rain streaming down my face.

I got up once the rain got heavier. Holding my gun in one hand and Josh's in the other, I made my way back to the cabin...

It was real.