The ZTRT Team

   I am the commanding officer of a small tactical team. We named ourselves the Zombie Tactical Response Team. We were on maneuvers out in the woods near our makeshift base, when we got back, the word came over the line that an outbreak of violence had broken out in town.

   The local sheriff's office called me while we were preparing to bug-out to check on our families. He activated our group.

   Now, the Zombie Tactical Response Team was nothing more then a few of us preppers, which a couple were on the local police force, who took the responsibility of our safety in a Zombie Apocalypse into our hands and developed this team. With the help and the efforts of every member of this team, a team that totaled 5, we were able to purchase a small 5 acre lot in which we were able to build a small military style commend center and training facility. We trained every weekend for about 5 years. We were a working machine. Everyone had their jobs in the group. I was chosen leader of the group, just because of my knowledge and never quitting attitude...Which also led to the name Dragon.

   There was Duff, who could get any and everything that we needed. He was about 5' 4", brown hair, blue eyed lady's man. We of course called him Lover, it seemed he had a different girlfriend about every damn day...

   Then there was Danger. He earned his nickname honestly. That little prick was always combining and mixing shit to create explosives. He would throw something and then a loud bang would go off and a tree or something would fall or launch into the air. He had made some shit one time and it wasn't that strong, but it was enough to rattle you when he would throw the little film canisters behind you and the damn things went off..

   There was Little Jon. Now he was not even close to being little. He stood around 7 foot tall and built like a brick shit house. The biggest, baddest motherfucker I have ever seen. But when he talks, he sounds like a damn kid. It started out as a joke one day and some how it stuck. He didn't seem to mind it.

   Last but not least, there was Mozart. He was nothing like anyone I've ever seen. he could come up with the perfect song for any situation. We did a mock outbreak at out facility. Of course in the middle of the drill, he had a song playing in through the system. He's one hell of a moral couch. I had Little Jon go into a full emotional breakdown and within a couple of minutes Mozart had Little Jon raging. Mozart main job was mechanics. He could tear down a motor or a weapon have it built back in a few minutes or a couple of hours, running or working better before he got his hands on it.

   The sheriff called and activated us. Our main job was to back up the few deputies in our little town. We geared up and as we made our way back into town, we called our families. Of course the cell towers were down. We got to the station and my guys grabbed phones and tried calling their families. Mozart and Duff were able to get in touch with their folks. According to what both told me, their folks told them that this was no normal riot, it was a viral outbreak. I was unable to contact my girlfriend. As for Little Jon, he never tried to call anyone. He told me a few years back that he had no family. That the ZTRT was his only family.

   We were dispatched to the intersection of highway 641 and highway 70. We were to set up a road block next to the Marathon station. When we got there, there was nothing. Nothing but blood, body parts and a few people feeding on some of the bloody remains. instantly my mind snapped into Z-poc mode and that's when all hell broke loose.

   I radioed into the station to let them know our position was compromised and we were falling back. Suddenly from out of the radio's speakers came roaring sounds of screaming and gunshots. At that very moment I knew the police station in anyone in it was lost. With a wave of zombies surrounding us and rocking the truck, I dropped it into drive and put the gas pedal to the floor. The truck's engine roared and pushed forward. Bodies of these infected bastards fell or were pushed out of the way. We reached the edge of the large hungry crowd, Little John kicked open the back door and Danger stood in the doorway and started throwing many of his small explosive devices. Before I was able to tell them to hold on, I rammed a car. Little Jon grabbed for Danger, but wasn't fat enough. Danger fell from the truck. 

   By the time I was able to get the truck stopped, we were about a block or two away from Danger. I jumped out of the driver's seat and told Mozart to get ready to drive. I started running back towards Mozart, who was on his feet and moving as quick as he could. It looked as if the fall from the truck had screwed up his leg or his ankle. I was half way to him when from out of the car I had blasted through, a hand darts out and grabs Danger. I heard Danger scream as I saw blood erupt from his arm. Knowing that our rule was never to leave a man behind, I knew what would happen. I raised my gun and aimed it at Danger. I shot once and took out the corpse that had taken a bite out of him. I closed in when Danger hollard.

   "Stop!! Don't come any closer. Remember our rule. No mater what, we take out our own."

   "Danger, listen to me. We need you as long as you can move we can use your ass to make more of those little creations of yours."

   "Dragon, forget it. I'm done. I have enough explosives on me right now to level this entire block. Plus I've been bitten. Rule number 2, if anyone within the group or within our protection is bitten, they receive their choice of death. I've chosen my way. Get the fuck back to the truck and get the hell out of here...GO!"

   Yes we did make a list of rule to govern our compound and to safe guard ourselves and families in the time of the Z-poc.

   I stood there for a few seconds shocked, not really catching that this was all really happening.

   "RUN!!"

   I heard Danger's voice scream into my ears. I snapped back from space and saw Danger pull out, something that was like brass knuckles, but I knew he was turning into a suicide bomber. As I ran towards the truck, Mozart started driving slowly away. I picked up my pace when and reached the back of the truck. Little Jon threw his hand out and I took hold. Little Jon jerked me inside the truck just as I heard Danger scream. As I turn my head to look back at Danger, a large fireball explodes. The truck has reached full speed as the fire rises into the darkening heavens.

   Mozart yells from the front of the truck, "Where in the hell is Danger?? Is he alright??"

   Little Jon looks at me, I shake my head and then turn to the front of the truck, "No, he got bitten and decided to go out his own way. Rule 2..."

   "What the hell is going on Dragon?"

   "Look, head for base."

   "What about Danger?"

   "He's gone Mozart. We have to get the hell out of this damn truck. This damn bread truck is just to fucking slow. We're dealing with the shit we've been training for. No get your head out of your ass and follow orders."

   Mozart whips the truck around the next corner. The truck lurches to the left, Little and me fall against the side of the truck. Mozart slams on the breaks.

   "What the Fuck are you doing up there?"

   "We have people up here."

   I head to the front of the truck. I look out the windshield. There in front of our ZTRT van was a small road block being guarded by a small band of people. They all raise their guns toward the truck.

   "You, in the truck. step out and place your hands on your head."

   "Dragon, I'm not sure we should do that. These people are scared shitless and they will probably most likely shoot us as soon as we get the fuck out of the truck."

   "I'm with you on that one Mozart. Can you back the truck up and get us turned side ways in the road?"

   "Yeah, I can. But they'll most like start shooting the shit out of the truck."

   "That's a chance we have to take. Little Jon, is that group of zombies still behind us or did we lose them?"

   "I don't know. There are some strays heading our way, but I can't tell if they are dead or living. Why?"

   "This is what we're going to do. This is going to be fucked up, but, we need to get back to base. We're going to turn the truck sideways, blocking the road. This will even block their view on what is coming or what we are doing. I don't think they'll let us through alive."

   Mozart starts to slowly back the truck up. And like scared little rabbits, the roadblock pussies open fired. Mozart ducked as the windows of the truck shatter from the rain of bullets from the road block. Bullets rip through the side of the truck. Little Jon is ht in the leg and Mozart dives for the floor. As he throws himself towards the back of the truck, he falls to the floor. A large pool of blood begin to form under him. Little Jon panics and grabs his Ak-47 assault rifle and kicks open the side door. 

   "LITTLE JON!! GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!!!!"

   But it's to late. Little Jon opens fire back on the roadblock thugs and as he walks towards them, the throws one grenade as he continues to fire his rifle. The explosion from the grenade shakes the truck violently and deafens my ears. I fall to the ground covering my ears. I roll so I can see what's going on on the other side of the truck. Little Jon has really fucked up. He was able to blow a hole in those bastards defensive station, but in the process, he has called lunch for every fucking dead and infected sonuvabitch in a 30 miles radius. 

   I noticed that after the grenade, there were very little of the roadblock thugs left. A few of them took off to the hills I guess when Little Jon threw that grenade and I bet the rest were killed when it went off. But as for those still standing their ground, fighting back was something more of a joy of shooting their big gun. I rolled behind the large tires at the back of the truck. I looked down the road the way we came from before we hit the roadblock. There were a few things moving toward my position. I returned fire again and something told me to look back. I turned my head to look back and I realized I had to move quickly from where I was.

   I got to my feet, and jumped into the truck. I pulled the side door closed, ran to the front of the truck and slammed the little sliding door that connected the front of the truck to the back closed. I knew I would be trapped here for awhile, with the body of a dead friend. Through one of the side port holes, I spotted a group of about 25 or 30 of these things stopped on the side of the truck. I knew they would probably stand there till some kind of noise from the roadblock thugs or me got them back moving.

   I looked out the other port hole And several of those left in the roadblock were moving slowly, but quietly. I knew I was going to have to get them to set these things in motion. We had placed a spear gun inside the truck after we had finished the remodeling. We joked about it being a single shot weapon and whoever used it better be ready to run.

   Never thought the damn thing would come in handy. I'll have to make my shot count on this damn thing. It's not going to be easy. I have to wait for a good clear shot and try to stay quiet when I make the shot. 

   I take another look out the other port hole to see how many of those dead bastards were out there. As I peeked through the window, the group had grown. It looked a someone was putting on a free concert and everyone in town and from two cities over was there. I bet there must have been at least 100 or more now. The sea of twisted, ripped, torn clothing and flesh I was looking into was just enough to cause my stomach to try and rid itself of any food or whatever was left in it. I managed to fight the urge to puke. I had to tear my face way from the sea of horror and focus my mind on getting them to rid me of those that had killed my team.

   How stupid could I have been. The best way to make the shot was through the gun port we had placed on each side of the truck. This was just in case we were trapped inside a damn horde of the undead. But for some reason, our minds didn't work properly when we had to face the very thing in which we were training against. I grabbed the spear gun, opened the gun port slowly and looked at the roadblock thugs. There was one who was about 10 yards from the truck. He was an easy target, just because he was short, fat and wobbled as he walked around the from of the roadblock.

   I need to make sure that my shot didn't kill him, but made him scream and cause the others to open up either with voices or gun fire. I had one shot at this and if I missed, I would be trapped in here till either the roadblock thugs decided to move it or I starved. 

   Fat boy stopped in the middle of the road and started walking towards the truck. This was my chance to get this shit right. He stopped just about twelve feet from the truck. I raised the spear gun and lined up the shot. As he turned around to look back at the roadblock, I fired. The spear hit it's mark. It ripped through the man's back and lodged in the man. As close as he was, it should have ripped through him like a hot knife through butter. He turns to look at the truck and I see the spear head sticking out the front of his belly. He turns slowly back at the roadblock and that's when the screams and the voices erupted.

   I watched as three men ran towards fat boy and as he hit his knees, fat boy lets out a scream. I turned and got to the window overlooking the dead things on the other side of the truck. Many of them begin to filter to the front and rear of the truck. Of course those few were the ones that got the gun fire going. Once that started, I knew these dumb ass would try and shoot through the truck. I dropped to the floor and crunched myself into a ball between the inner rear fender wells. There was sounds of men and women screaming, moans and cries of the dead and gunfire penetrating the thin walls of the truck.

   It felt like hours, but it was a little over 20 minutes when all sounds were nothing more then silence. I knew who had won this battle. Not because of fire power, but by sheer numbers. I stayed in the fetal position for about 30 minutes after the fight was over. After awhile, I had to see. My mind wanted to see the horrible action I had perpetrated upon those just trying to protect themselves. The horror was just to much for my head to wrap around. Blood, guts, body parts and torsos being ripped apart and the dead feeding on the dead. 

   I turned away and looked out the other window. There was nothing on that side of the truck. If my team had survived, they would not have approved this, but in this situation and being in the position of leader, i had to do what I thought would be right to protect my team. To bad it had gotten my team killed.

   I had to move quickly and move quietly. I checked my tac vest and made sure every pocket and pouch was filled with magazines for my M4 tactical style .22 rifle. The only features i had placed on my rifle was the ACOG, (cross hairs), scope and a tactical light. My pistol in my tac vest was packed with a suppressor, a red lazer sight and a flashlight. I packed one of the tactical packs full with whatever was in the truck for my guns. I was weighted down something fierce.With all the ammo and a few of the extra guns we kept in the truck, that I wasn't leaving behind, I felt like a 1000 lbs water buffalo.

   I'm not sure how quiet I was going to be with me loaded down the way I was and from my calculations, I was around 10 miles from my base. So I had one hell of a walk and one hell of a load to carry. Before I put this pack on my back, I checked outside of the truck. I turned to pick up the pack when Mozart's hand grabbed my leg. 

   The grip of his dead version of Mozart was way past human strength. I pulled my hunting knife and was about to plunge the damn thing into Mozart;s head when he spoke.

   "Dragon..."

   kneeling down next to him I whisper to him, "Look, you have to be quiet. We're not out of danger yet, you stubborn little fucker."

   Mozart rolls over and rubs his chest.

   "What the fuck happened?"

   "Dude, I forgot I had put on my blood pack vest. When the bullets started flying, one of them hit the auto knockout button on my vest and it put me out, making it look like I was dead. Where's Little Jon?"

   "When he saw you go down, he flipped the hell out. It was like he was Rambo and Hercules rolled into one. He killed a lot of those bastards in the roadblock. But it was short lived. He went down. We're still stuck in the truck, but the roadblock thugs are no more."

   "You're plan worked then I take it?"

   "Yeah it worked. Worked to well. I didn't know they had women and kids on the other side of the road block. I heard screaming women and children when those walking corpses took the bait. But I can't help that now. It was a shame it  had to come to that, but the situation is now do or die. I made a decision and now I have to live with it."

   "Dude, if they would have waited and let us turn around, maybe they would be alive now. But they open fired on us first. So by all rights, every member in that group deserved what they got. Hell, I saw three boys, probably about 12 or 13, up on that stack of overturned cars shooting at us. So they had everyone on the front line fighting the living and the dead. So don't let your maneuver weigh you down. you're still leading this fucking squad and we have to get the fuck out of here."

   "I'm working on that right now. How about you switch out tac vests and load up on gear. I might have an idea to lure those dead fuckers off the opposite direction in which we need to head."

   "Well clear your head and work it out. I'll load up and be ready to go in 5."