A Troll is Haunting Tex's

Doom was backing MelissaBaby, working his Warhammer and fuck knows what'd happened to that M4 I gave him and you could hear those wet crunches as he hammered through skulls, shattering the bone, turning those heads to pulp and Barefootgirl was trailing him, Smith and Wesson .38 Special AirLite PD in one hand, short sword in the other and I had to take back everything I said about that little sword.

Doom's Warhammer crunched and hammered them, Barefootgirl put them down, that sword flickering out, spearing eyes, lancing into whatever a zombie used for a brain and finishing them off as we moved forward in a wedge and she hit her mark every time. Steve and MelissaBaby were the pointy end as we sliced into those zombies like a spear through paper. Where that little sword didn't finish them off, Barefootgirl's Smith and Wesson cracked, those .38 Specials blowing the insides of their heads into scrambled black mush and while no scientists had ever figured out how zombies functioned, a hi-powered bullet through the skull pretty much put them down every time.

Taking their heads off worked just as well and massive body trauma from bullets tended to do the trick as well but body shots, those zombies took a lot more damage than they would've if they'd a been alive before they stopped. Behind us, Biscuit Hammer and TP and Ogg and Gus kept them off our backs and they'd managed to hold them off our asses while we carved our way forward and all of a sudden Bramblethorn moved forwards between Steve and MelissaBaby and those long jets of flame lashed out from his flamethrower, licking forward with delicate precision and whatever else he was, Bramblethorn was an artist with that flamethrower and even zombies don't tolerate being set on fire that well and Bramblethorn was picking them off like flies.

"Let's get the fuck outa here," Steve yelled, going into overdrive and fuck me it was hard to keep up with him and even MelissaBaby was pushed and she was just going wild with that frigging axe and heads were flying through the air like giant frigging golf balls 'n I had to duck more than a couple of times and one frigging hit me in the side as I turned to behead a zombie that Steve had taken to its knees and left for me to finish off and I did.

Burning alive distracted them and distracted, they went down even more easily and that was enough to get us to the mall entrance where there were a couple of National Guard guys down and dead and mostly eaten, there uns on the ground and we burst through those glass doors as if the devil himself was behind us and outside, we pretty much turned as one and fired back into the mall 'n Bramblethorn was doing his best to set the entire entrance on fire and he was pretty much successful until he ran outa fuel and then he backed up real fast. Steve tossed him one of his 1911's and he kinda figured that one out fast enough.

Needs must when the devil drives I guess and it wasn't more than a few seconds before he was up and shooting with the rest of us 'n I guess he was one of those fast learners coz he'd made it all the way in and out again and he still wasn't frigging dead and that was what usually happened when you were up against monsters and you were a bit frigging slow on the uptake.

You died.

Behind us, the Mall was in flames. We backed away from that entrance 'n the team was all there with Steve and me and Gus, laying down fire, gunning down the zombies that flamed like torches as they stumbled mindlessly out of the fire. Hoped the rest of them had got out and were okay coz I had no idea what'd happened to them after we got separated and my coms set was gone. No idea what'd happened to it but I guess I'd lost it down in those basement levels somewhere, somehow.

"Mendoza, what's happening?" I sortof knew that voice, glanced over my shoulder for a second. Some Fed in that black getup they all wore and he had his M4 up and he was shooting with us. Only him though and so much for the frigging cavalry although I could hear more shooting. Way more shooting. Just, none of it was near us and I wanted to fucking cry coz we were so close now to getting outa this alive but those frigging zombies, they just kept on coming. How many of the fuckers were there?

"You guys 're late." Gus sounded totally frigging exhausted. Looked it too. "They're contained. Took out the nest, Mall was full of 'em. Them and Zombies. Don't let any of those things get outa the flames." He coughed. "Relay to the Cee Pee that we still got guys in there will 'ya."

Beside us, the rest of the team was taking positions. Standing, kneeling, lying down, whatever suited them coz there wasn't any return fire. Just howling zombies pouring out like ants and Ogg opened up with the Bren, a rapid-fire series of staccato bursts that cut down another wave of zombies as they staggered out of the flames. Me, I was on three round bursts, targeting anything that was standing and everyone else was using whatever they had coz there was just an endless flood of 'em coming out of the fire and even on fire they didn't stop. Not until they were charred down to the bones.

BiscuitHammer was laying it down hard and fast, that Remington we'd loaded him with was slung and he was using an M4A1 M203 combo that he musta picked up from one of those dead Guards just inside the Mall Entrance and he was working that M203 40mm grenade launcher like he really knew it, reloading and firing like an automaton and he was landing those grenades right in the mall entrance, one every ten seconds or so and with every burst I could see zombies falling back into the flames but they just kept pouring out and how many of them fucking were there.

Click. Drop the mag, clatter on the paving, slam in a reload, work the action, resume firing and they just kept fucking coming and thank god Ogg had that Bren and Steve's Predator was just hammering away and those .308 rounds ripped the zombies to pieces when they hit and if I kept this kind of shit up I was gonna have to learn to use a .308 coz my 5.56 was taking half a dozen rounds for every zombie.

The coughing and puking behind me stopped and TP was up on the line now, working his 1897 Winchester pump and the range was a bit extreme but he was an artist with that shotgun and every time he fired, a frigging zombie went down and behind me, Barefoot girl was firing away with my old Sig-Sauer, keeping our backs clear coz there were still zombies out here in the parking lot and her and MelissaBaby and Doom were shooting like there was no tomorrow and I hoped like fuck there would be but there were so many targets coming outa that burning mall that there was no way I could take the time to turn around and look now.

Even Bramblethon had dumped his flamethrower coz without the fuel it was just a useless lump of metal and he was making pretty good use of Steve's 1911 although he fucked up a bit on the reloads when I tossed him a couple more 1911 mags but at least he had the sense to step back and get outa the way while he sorted it out. More and more zombies were making it out, spreading out, moving towards us and fuck, they were spreading out either side of our little fireteam and I was on the left and there was only me and I couldn't pick them off fast enough. Steve's hand tapped my shoulder.

"Fallback, Chloe," he yelled. "The Guard's here."

I glanced around and there was that moment of relief at the sight of that line on armored steel boxes moving across the parking lot towards us. That moment was all those frigging zombies needed to close the gap 'n my first warning was Steve's arm grabbing my harness and pulling me back as that frigging monster of a kukri swept past me and separated the head from the body and frigging fuck, I just about crapped myself as I pointed my DD past him and just held the trigger down and emptied the mag in about point zero of a fucking second coz it was only about a quarter full. Killed that next zombie anyhow.

Let the sling take the DD, Remington over my shoulder and thank fuck I'd reloaded as I raised the butt to my shoulder and caressed the trigger, slamming the nearest zombie to the paving with that solid slug that just blew a hole right through the chest. Cup sized hole going in, dinner plate sized hole going out coz those rounds were hollowpoint and fuck they were good. Before it was even down I was firing at the next zombie as it reached for me, clawed hands extended, eyes full of mindless hunger, mouth snarling and slavering coz I was fresh meat and that's what it wanted.

Well, fucking excuse me if I prefer not to be zombie dinner and I stepped back as it sprayed black ooze from the gaping hole and went down and Steve was lopping off heads and arms like he was trimming branches from a hedge or something 'n we were dancing around each other as we backed up. Five rounds gone just like that and a trail of dead zombies as we backed away and the others weren't gonna be any help coz they were busy holding their own line as we fell back.

Grabbing shells from my harness, I rapid-fire reloaded and resumed firing around Steve, firing as fast as I could as the zombies boiled around us, more and frigging more of them and then Steve somehow had his Predator back up and those .308 rounds were lashing out, vaporizing zombie heads in sudden explosions of white bone and the black ooze that was, as it turned out, zombie frigging brains and it was just fucking disgusting. One got past Steve, its mouth wide open, roaring as it scented food and as it lunged at me I stuck the muzzle in its mouth and pulled the trigger 'n its head just exploded right in front of my eyes 'n I wanted to puke but there wasn't time.

"Tres bien, Chloe," TP yelled and he was beside me, working that 1897 Winchester as fast as I was working my 870 and between the two of us and Steve we cleared the line and then one of those M113's rumbled and roared past us, the treads chewing up the zombie bodies and crushing them, the .50 caliber in the turret spitting out an endless line of fire that mowed the zombies down and we were fucking saved which didn't stop me putting head shots into every zombie body in sight just on principle as we fell back, coz yeah, the only good zombie is one without a frigging head and at close range, those 12 gauge shells made damn sure of that.

MelissaBaby's axe was getting maybe a bit blunt but she was lopping of heads as she moved and TP was booting them half way to Mexico and some Guard guy saw what he was doing and just grinned and fielded the head right back at him and Jesus Christ, the two of them were playing zombie football and that was just frigging gross. One of these heads came tumbling my way and I went to kick it back and fuck, I'd forgotten about the spikes on my boots and there's nothing freakier than having a zombie head spiked to your boot and the frigging thing wouldn't come off until Steve saw and gave it a kick and that sure as fuck got rid of it. Thank Christ.

"Tex's team is out," Steve told us as we fell back behind the Guard units and those old M113's clattered and roared across the parking lot, those .50 caliber machineguns just sweeping the parking lot clean and half a dozen of them were targeting that mall entrance and nothing was coming out now. I just kinda sank to my knees on the paving, giddy with exhaustion, not hearing or seeing a thing as I just breathed and then, after a couple of minutes, drank from my camelbak and then, when my hand dived in to check for reloads, I only had half a dozen full mags left and fuck, that wouldn't have lasted me long.

"You okay, Chloe?" Black tactical glove on my shoulder and when I looked up it was that Fed, the one that'd been flirting with me what seemed like years ago. The guy that'd had his balls chomped down on by that chupacabra and I couldn't even remember his frigging name.

"Yeah," I said, using his arm to pull myself to my feet and even standing, top of my head was way below his shoulder. Had to be even bigger that Steve. "How's the balls? Sorry 'bout that, I missed that one."

"Good as new," he said, grinning, but it was a pretty tired and exhausted grin and he was looking like he'd been in mixing it up. Wheeler, that was what his nametag said. I remembered now. Wheeler.

"Had an outbreak down south of Dallas," he added before I even asked. "Another bad one, nipped that one in the bud but it was pretty hot." He looked around, Mall in flames and something inside collapsed, huge towering pillar of sparks and flames and yeah, that looked hot enough to take out any vampires that we hadn't gotten to for sure. Parking lot covered in dead zombies and there were squads of Guard guys working through making sure they were all permanently down. Shots crackling out steadily so I guess they'd learnt not to make assumptions.

"Not as hot as here though," he said and his finger never left the trigger, his eyes scanning every which direction and I realized I was doing the same thing. "Bronstein send me to get you guys out," he went on. "This it or you got more guys out here."

"More out here," Steve had joined us. "Tex's team came out through Walmart 'n BB's team's down the south end, almost out and they've got some Feds and Guard with 'em."

"Yeah, we're in contact with those guys," Wheeler said. "Come on, get you guys' outa here and back to the Command Post. Guard can hold this line now. These guys know the deal."

That Humvee he'd come in on was frigging luxury, let me tell you and I didn't say no when Steve helped me up and in coz I don't know if I coulda climbed in by myself.

"Guard's in position all around the Mall, got it isolated," Bronstein said into his headset as Steve and Tex followed him towards this frigging military looking tent thing that hadn't been there a few hours ago when we went in and I tagged on behind them. Nosey, that's me. "That unit from Stephenville's turned up and been briefed, had to replace the Commanding Officer. Couldn't handle it but they're good now." He was nodding to himself and talking as Steve and Tex followed him into the command tent that'd been set up since we'd gone in and me, I just followed on the end and nobody stopped me.

"Yeah, got more Guard and Police units working through clearing the town, some of our guys are with them to make sure they follow the protocols." He glanced at Steve and Tex and Gus. "The boss says you guys can stand down now. Thanks Mendoza, your guys sure went above and beyond."

"Goldmann here." Guess that was Bronstein's boss coz he waved him over and us with him and he was speaking into some high tech radio set. "You can tell the Pentagon to put the B1 on hold. Won't need the special. ... okay, we'll keep you updated. Sitrep every fifteen minutes but right now the nest is reported destroyed, outbreak's contained, we're clearing any leakers out of the town ... yeah, we're terminating any infected ... shipping casualties to the facility for monitoring ... yeah, we'll put down any that turn, standard procedures .... Zombie outbreak as well but that's contained ... yeah, we figure 'round three to five hundred civilian casualties ... acceptable, yeah .... Okay, fifteen minutes .... Goldmann out."

"What was the payload?" Bronstein asked.

"Low tactical yield. Five kilotons. Minimal radiation," Goldmann said without looking around. "Casualties would be acceptable."

"Including us." Bronstein sounded dry.

"Including us. You know the protocols." Goldmann sounded like he didn't give a crap.

"Jesus," I said, kinda stunned. Were they talking about what I thought they were talking about? "You were gonna drop a nuke on Texas."

"Small one," Goldmann said, without looking at me. "If you guys hadn't held it like you did and this outbreak had spread out of this town, I'd 've called for a bigger one." He nodded at Steve, Tex, Mendoza and that National Guard Major that'd just joined us. Guess that dude was a believer now, he had that thousand yard stare 'n he wasn't quite as covered in blood as I was but close. Real close. "Thanks to you guys and your men, I don't have to do that."

"Men?" I said, kinda bugged.

"Whatever," Goldmann said, looking at me and I think that was about when he realized that okay, that little person was a frigging girly. Expression didn't change. "You all did a good job. Bronstein, these guys all know the score, right? Don't need to read 'em the regs. Just make sure they get the usual bonuses on this one. Any injured, take 'em to the facility."

"We'll look after our own," Gus said, flatly.

"No you won't," Goldmann said, just as flatly. "Sanguinare Vampiris, exposure to, there's a thirty day quarantine period. They turn, they burn. They don't come down after thirty days, we test 'em and if they're clear, they're released. Straight up, Mendoza, you do not want a new vampire turning on you by surprise. Leave that one to us, we got the facilities for it. They don't turn, they'll come back. They do, well, in the line of duty and all that. Full benefits and payouts for dependents and they're part of the bonus payout on this one. Family's 'll be taken care of. Like always. You know the score."

"I don't like it." Mendoza was digging his toes in.

Goldmann shrugged. "Neither do I, Mendoza, but I do it by the book. That's how it's gonna be."

"Leave it, Gus," Tex said, arm around Gus's shoulders. "Nothing you can do. Come on, let's go check everyone got out."

"They didn't," I said. "We lost Lovecraft and Voboy in the nest. Frigging demon or something got 'em."

"That sucks!" Tex said.

"They took down the necromancer though," I said. "Last thing they did before that demon or whatever it was showed up for the party." I shuddered. Just thinking about that thing had me cold and shivering and Lovecraft and Voboy, they'd fought that demon right to the bitter end before the vampires swarmed them. I'd got that demon good though but the how that, I just wanted to puke and it musta shown. Guess it's not everyone can say they rammed a silver crucifix up a demon's ass and gave it a holy water enema, then stood back and watched it explode. What a frigging mess. It'd worked though.

Steve slid an arm around my shoulders. "You can tell us about when we're back at Tex's," he said. "everyone'll want to know how they went."

"I took their heads," I said. "Staked 'em and tossed the heads into the flames just to play it safe. All I had time for. They won't come back." I could say it, but saying it, I just wanted to cry.

"BB's team's out," Steve said. "Other side of the Mall. He just called in."

"You guys done real good," Goldmann said. "For civilians. Now leave it to us to clean up. Bronstein, get one of the admin pogues to do the paperwork before they go."

"Will do," Bronstein said. "Come on over here, Mendoza. Bring these guys with you. Now, let's get the paperwork done ..."

"Find out who that developer was who built this mall on the cheap and didn't clear the cemetery," I heard Goldmann say as we walked away. "That asshole's going down as an example to the rest of them...." And then he was outa earshot and I didn't feel sorry for the mall developer at all. Had my way, I'd throw the asshole to the zombies and laugh as he was frigging eaten.

Frigging paperwork. It took hours. Longer than the frigging fight had but at least it give us time to gather everyone together, check for injuries and thank god for Kevlar. And coffee, although the coffee was the worst I'd drunk in years. Almost as bad as Starbucks. I musta drunk a couple of jugs of it before I slowed down. Thank god for caffeine. Thank god the Guard had loaned us body armor for the guys that hadn't had it. We've have lost more than Lovecraft and Voboy without it.

A lot more.

"Kay, guys." Gus, Tex and Steve emerged from the Command Post at long frigging last. Not exactly smiling but they hadda bunch of paperwork. "All done, let's move. Back to the Coffee Shop."