Careful to avoid the zeds on the ground with some life still left in them, we looked under the vehicles to make sure no other zeds were waiting to jump out at us. We squeezed between the Humvees and HEMTTs and made our way toward the bridge. We paused at the last fuel truck we came to. Kurt set down his gas can, and opened the door. A second later, he stood back and gave a thumbs-up.
We stood behind the vehicle closest to the bridge, a big HEMTT, which would be our RP (rendezvous point). Clutch signaled to me, and I climbed up the back of the HEMTT. Jase came up right behind me. Until Jase started the fire, Clutch wanted him with me to provide suppression fire, but I knew it was also to keep us both safe.
Once I had my rifle set up, I noticed the pontoon in the middle of the river. The West team was in play. I motioned to Clutch, and he nodded. He signaled to our team and the four men with gas cans—Clutch, Kurt, Bryce, and Joe—jogged toward the bridge, though Clutch’s jog was more of a walk. The bridge bastards were completely entranced by the West team, who was slowly making its way to the western riverfront. The zeds followed, mimicking the direction of the pontoon and moving onto the western half of the bridge.
The East team poured gasoline in a thick line across the eastern opening of the bridge.
So far, so good.
Clutch signaled to Kurt and Joe, and they took off at a sprint for the gas tanker truck. Clutch stood there, in plain sight, at the end of the bridge in the middle of the road. Bryce stood off to the side, more skittish.
Once Kurt and Joe both gave a thumbs-up that they were in position, Clutch waved his arms toward Griz’s team’s pontoon. They waved back, and went under the bridge to where they’d go ashore on the western bank.
“Hey!” Clutch shouted.
Several zeds toward the back of the group turned.
“Yeah, you! Come and get me, you dumb fucks!”
It was irresistible bait, and I wanted to run to Clutch and yank him away from danger. The zeds moaned as they changed direction to head back down the bridge toward Clutch. The West team crept up around the edges of the bridges and started pouring gasoline across the bridge, just like the East team had.
Clutch waved at the zeds and gave them the bird. “Come on, you slow shits!”
I had to remind myself to scan the entire area, not just the bridge, with the noise Clutch was making.
Behind me, the gas truck’s big engine started, and I turned to see Kurt pull the truck out and back it toward the bridge. Joe was on top of the tank holding the hose. When Kurt approached the bridge, Clutch stepped to the side with Bryce and held up his hand. Looking in the side mirror, Kurt stopped the truck.
Clutch and Bryce climbed up on the back of the HEMTT, and I could hear them take position around us.
“You’re up, Speedy,” Clutch said.
Jase held up a lighter. “I’m way ahead of you.” He got to his feet, climbed down from the HEMTT, and sprinted toward the bridge.
Movement in the tree line caused me to adjust my aim. I fired.
“Nice shot,” Bryce said after the lone zed fell.
While I continually scanned the landscape, out of the corner of my eye I saw Joe stand on top of the truck and started spraying gasoline over the incoming herd as the truck pulled slowly away from them. They continued until they reach the end of the bridge.
Joe waved frantically. “I can’t get the hose to turn off!”
The zeds were nearly to the truck.
“Leave it! Get out of there!” Clutch yelled, motioning them to us.
Joe continued to work with the hose and then finally tossed it away. Gas continued to spray out. With the engine still running, Kurt jumped just as Joe was climbing down the back. A zed grabbed Joe’s leg, but Kurt shot it several times until its gripped relaxed enough for Joe to tumble onto the ground. He regained his footing and took off at a sprint along with Kurt toward us.