Homeward Bound, Part Four by patricia51

(Quick note: Kudos to WhatHurtsMeMost. She was the first to spot that the yellow Humvee in the last chapter beonged to Tallahassee in "Zombieland".)

(Becoming Mobile)

(Along the California Coast)

The deep rumble of an engine filled the bays of the spacious metal building that had once been the service center of a used car dealership. It drowned out the hiss of a nearby arc welder but did nothing to darken its eye-searing light.

Chris shut off the welder. He looked over at the now smoothly running four wheel drive SUV, back at the heavy metal screen he had constructed and nodded in satisfaction.

"This is industrial strength rebar. Nothing's going to rip through it."

"It's not the screens themselves that I'm worried about," replied his sister Claire. "When we were attacked by Isaac's Crimson Head zombies in Las Vegas it turned out the weak point was their attachment to the vehicle. Instead of going through them they ripped the entire screen off the vehicle."

"Good point," Chris conceded. "I'll hunt up some high grade bolts to hold them in place. They need to cool tonight. Tomorrow we'll get them installed and we'll be on the road."

A rifle cracked from over their heads. Neither sibling paid much attention to it. Nor did the trio of Alice, Sam and Carlos who were shutting the hood of the vehicle and conducting an inspection of the rest of it and the other two.

Up on the roof Angela Valentine was settling down behind the sniper rifle. She thumped the bag that her left forearm was to rest on, wrapped the rifle's sling around that arm and settled the butt against her shoulder. Rather than lowerong her cheek to the stock she looked up at the woman who was sitting cross-legged next to her, peering through a set of binoculars at the surrounding area.

"Okay sweetie, your turn. By the way, very good shot K-Mart. That was about five hundred yards and you dropped the zombie with the first shot."

"Thank you," the teen beamed with pride at the woman's praise.

"You're welcome. Okay honey, I see another one. To your left about twenty degrees, distance about four to four hundred and fifty yards."

Angie shifted slightly, tracking with both eyes. She nodded and lowered her head to look through the telescopic sight mounted on the rifle.

"Target acquired mom."

"Good. Now chamber a round." Angie worked the bolt. "Now, remember, hold the butt in tight to your shoulder. At that range you should aim where?"

"I should hold about three inches high from where I want the bullet to strike."

"Exactly. Set your aim point, take a breath, let it out slowly and squeeze the trigger."

Boom!

The rifle slammed back into the teen's shoulder but she was prepared for the recoil and rode it without the wincing that had happened the first time she had fired the rifle. She kept her cheek firmly in place and her eye focused on the target through the scope.

"Good shot!" Jill Valentine scanned the rest of the area before them before rising and making a full three hundred and sixty degree sweep. "I think that's cleaned them all out." She looked at her daughter and her best friend's daughter. "Speaking of cleaning I'd say we have just enough time to do exactly that to the rifle before supper. So rather than reload go ahead and unloaded."

"Yes Mom, Yes ma'am," the two girls answered together. Angie carefully unloaded the rifle, passing the two unexpended shells to her mom. K-mart helped her up and the two teens picked up the empty casings."

"Once the rifle is cleaned what do you do next?"

"Reload it," the pair chorused.

"Exactly. When things get scary, and we certainly know they will before we get home, you react as you have been taught and as you practice. When Chris and I went through the Raccoon City Police Academy we studied a famous case where four police officers were killed in a shootout with two suspects."

"In those days firearms training was not very realistic. You stood at the range and slowly fired at paper targets. There was no rush, no hurry and certainly no pressure. Safety was paramount. You fired and then holstered an unloaded weapon. When you reloaded, and this was in the days when revolvers were the usual side arm, you carefully dumped the expended casings in your hand and then, to keep the range clean, put them in your pocket. During the examination of the fallen officers after the manhunt was concluded for their killers one officer was found with empty shell casings in his pocket. Under stress you revert to how you're taught. So you girls ALWAYS keep your pistols loaded as well as any other weapon you might use. And treat them that way."

Two serious nods met her words. The trio climbed down the ladder welded on the side of the building and joined the others. Supper was bland but it was hot and filling.

"Another early morning," Alice said, ignoring the muttered undertones from K-Mart. The woman grinned, reached out and ruffled her daughter's hair. "Without interruptions." A discussion followed for a short while that covered their route for the next few days and then they adjourned. One adult remained on guard, a guard that would rotate through the night.

K-Mart snuggled down into her improvised bed, conscious that she was probably the safest person in the world tonight with her formidable dad on one side and her even more formidable mom on the other. She was glad the walking was over, at least for the foreseeable future. Perhaps they would be able to drive all the way home to Alaska.

After days of hiking up the highway without finding vehicles they could use an observant Carlos had spotted the half-fallen sign for the dealership. They had scouted it out and after dispatching no more than four or five zombies had found it had everything they needed. Trucks and SUV's with heavy duty frames, a body repair shop that had everything they needed to armor those vehicles and hidden in the back corner of the facility a gas pump. An unlooted gas pump. There wasn't a tanker around but Chris and Sam had removed gas tanks from other vehicles and set them up on trailers the trucks they would be riding in could tow.

Nearby they had found a small grocery store. The shelves had been looted but wonder of wonders the storeroom was practically untouched. The food they picked up should carry them all the way home now that they didn't have to carry it on their backs. Fortunately there had been NO cans of pork and beans. Perhaps, as she admitted to herself, she had been spoiled by the months in Alaska, an Alaska that due to the climate changes had a long and fruitful growing season that had let her get accustomed to real fresh food, but she didn't care if she never saw a can of pork and beans again.

The prize had been in a corner closet. Methodical by nature Sam had noticed that there was a good deal of space unaccounted for by the nearly barren shelves inside. Taking them out and pulling away what was discovered to be a false back had shown them a nice treasure trove of weapons and ammunition.

There had been a stash of twenty-two long rifle for the silenced pistols and nine millimeter for the HK-94's and Glock pistols. Twelve gauge shotgun shells in a variety of loads filled up her mom's slightly depleted inventory. Best of all for her though had been the discovery of two twenty gauge pump shotguns. Now with their barrels cut down and loaded with a mixture of buckshot and slugs one was securely clamped right where she would be riding come morning. The other of course was in the same position in the vehicle Angie would be in. K-Mart admitted that they kicked a lot less than a twelve gauge such as she had used before.

They certainly could use the resupply. They had been running low on all kinds of ammunition, especially the rifle ammo for the M4 carbines and her Dad's Galil. There hadn't been a lot of 5.56 millimeter shells but the few boxes they had found had been very welcome, especially after the fight they had three days ago.

(Three days previously)

"This is beginning to remind me of a song from the 'Lord of the Rings',", grumble Angie.

"Song?" K-Mart went blank. She could remember seeing the three movies before the apocalypse but couldn't recall any songs.

"Bilbo sings it in the early part of the first film." At the blank look on K-Mart's face Angie softly sang. "The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began."

The blonde teen remembered and laughed. "Yes, you're right."

Claire put a mock scowl on her face and looked at the pair of girls. "If you're that tired maybe you should save your breath for walking."

The laughter stilled when Alice slowed down and stopped, the expression on her face one of sudden alertness. Her head turned towards the coast, into the stiff sea breeze that was blowing in. Carlos yanked out a set of binoculars and scanned that direction.

Angie actually saw her best friend's dad's face pale as he lowered the binoculars and shot a near frantic look around them. Then both he and Alice were yelling and he was pointing to the group's other side.

"There! Up there! Quick. Run!"

K-Mart cast one quick glance at the pack of creatures creating a rise in the not far enough away distance. Then she was running up the hill, heading towards what looked to be the remnants of some kind of pumping station around a huge drum shaped tank of some kind.

"Faster. Drop your packs!" yelled Alice.

Angie shrugged out of the straps of her pack, seeing K-Mart doing the same. Then she was caught up by Chris and practically carried up the hill when her feet slipped. Reaching the tank she was unceremoniously tossed up to a waiting Sam who was on the metal steps leading up. Moments latter Carlos hurled K-Mart up there and the two men began to climb themselves.

Overhead Claire's sniper rifle started to crack in slow measure booms that indicated the former convoy leader was hitting everything she was aiming at. Angie reached the top and turned, grabbing her friend's hand and pulling her up. The other adults poured onto the smooth metal surface and fanned out. Gasping for breath Angie looked at the rapidly approaching threat and her heart froze.

Dogs. Dozens and dozens of dogs. They looked horrible, the remnants of their skin peeling from them, foam dripping from their jaws and the redness of their eyes showing. Angie shook, the memories of her school coming back.

She had always loved dogs. But what had happened to the police dogs brought in to try to stop the already infected, the dogs and their police handlers going down under the waves of the undead the students and faculty had become and their rising again as mutated creatures had terrified her beyond words. Only the arrival of Jill, her mom, had saved her.

In a flashback she saw again the dogs charging them and Jill throwing her lighter into the room behind them hoping to set off the gas from the stoves. A completely irrelevant thought popped into her head, as often happens in situations of extreme stress. She was glad her mom had quit smoking. Then the creatures were upon the group and her mind was back in the fight.

The adults opened fire as the mutated dogs of all sizes and kinds tried to leap up at them. Gunfire poured into the pack. Instinctively, as both parents and adults do, the older members pushed the two teens behind them. Angie saw K-mart had drawn her pistol and was turning to cover the back. She followed suit just in time.

Two huge beasts of some big dog breed had found something to climb on or leap from and had reached the edge of the tank. One jumped for the girls. K-Mart's pistol spat fire, rapid instinctive shooting that brought down the creature only a few feet away from them. The other bounded to the side, passing them, its jaws foaming, headed right for Jill's back.

Angie should have screamed in panic at the sight of death bearing down on her mom. Once perhaps she would have. But instead her pistol rose, her arms locked, the barrel pointed. Both eyes guided the muzzle as she immediately opened fire. Bullet after bullet struck the undead creature until it collapsed, its momentum carrying its now dead for good body towards Jill.

Now Angie yelled. But rather than a scream it was a command. "Mom, dodge left. NOW!"

Without turning Jill followed her daughter's instructions. The sliding body which might have pushed her off into the rapidly shrinking pack missed her, falling off into the pile at the foot of the tank.

Several other creatures had managed to leap all the way up only to meet Alice and her long knives. Shortly the gunfire ceased. The party scattered and climbed down to make sure everything that had attacked them was dead and gather up their abandoned packs. But before they did Chris wrapped Angie up in his arms and squeezed her tightly.

"Wow sweetheart, what shooting. You know that you saved your Mom's life don't you? I'm so proud of you I could bust."

As she fell asleep K-Mart smiled as she remembered that scene and how Angie had flung her arms around Chris' neck and called him by another name.

"Looks like there's no doubt about it," she thought as she cuddled against her own parents, "Angie has a dad as well as a mom now."

(To be continued)

(Note. The shootout Jill mentions to Angie and K-Mart was the infamous Newhall Incident of April 1970 where four California Highway Patrolmen were killed in a shootout with two subjects. It led to a massive overhaul nationwide of how firearms training were conducted as well as improvements in traffic stop procedures, officer survival and equipment upgrades and additions that have saved a lot of lives since then.)