Chapter 73- Scramble

I turned the key, hoping there was enough to get me started and over to the gate.  The engine tried and tried, but wouldn't turn over.  My stomach rumbled in sympathy.  Now we were both empty.  I looked to my left at the eight foot chain link fence surrounding the storage facility.  The answers to all my problems lay inside.

Turning to look out the rear of the van I could see the horde of infected walkers approaching steadily. Some limped, others crawled, but all hissed and snarled, determined to get to the only food in blocks... Me.  I leaped into the back of the van and looked around for useful items before I abandoned the vehicle.  I emptied the pockets of the tool belt, replacing the measuring tape, spool of marking chalk, and the square with a flashlight, a pair of bolt cutters, and a small pry bar.  I slid the two hammers back into the metal loops and unhooked it from the wall.  Wrapping it around my waist I connected the buckle in front and pulled it tight.  Apparently whoever used this van before me was a lot larger.  

I felt the van lurch to one side and the pounding of fists echo through the interior.  Turning to look out the back window I saw dead faces pounding on the rear of the van, desperate to obtain their goal.  Their hands beat forcefully on the glass, and I wondered how long I had before they found a way inside.  

I climbed back up to the front seat to climb out the passenger door but was met with two others pounding on the window there, and another joining them on the driver's side.  My options were dwindling rapidly as the van began rocking back and forth violently.  I climbed back into the rear and weighed my options.  As the van rocked back and forth the last remaining boxes fell from the shelves onto the floor.  A box of nails crashed to the ground, sending metal flying in all directions.  A flash of green rolled from the back of the shelf to the rail along the edge.  A can of cheap lemon lime soda, unopened.  I grabbed it in gleeful desperation, cracking it open and slurping the contents.  It was hot and flat, but it was wet, and I felt renewed energy flowing through my body.  

Staying in the back I reached up to the steering wheel, using the handle of my hammer to push on the horn.  I hestiated...  How loud would this be?  I wanted to attract the ones in back away from the rear doors, but couldn't afford to attract the mega horde swarming the gas station only a few blocks away. Instead I hit the metal roof with the head of the hammer. The sharp rap echoed through the van, and I could see the infected outside buzzing like a mass of angry hornets.  I hammered toward the front, glancing back to see the group behind move forward.  Only one or two remained, pounding on the glass of the rear doors.  I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer, then lunged toward the back.  

Flipped the handle I burst out into the street, the doors pushing the few remaining zombies onto their backs.  I didn't wait to see if the pack was following, I sprinted, full out, toward the fence.  My tool belt rattled loudly and I put my hands over the pockets to keep the contents from falling out.  Lunging with my might I reached for the top of the fence and scrambled up the side, pushing my toes into the fence, desperately trying to find footing.   My left toe found a rung and I pushed up, giving me just enough leverage to heft my stomach onto the top of the fence.  Suddenly I felt a hand around my ankle and a sharp tug.  Glancing down I saw a tall, ugly zombie with a scraggly beard and black teeth.  His yellow, encrusted eyes stared up at me menacingly as he snarled and an awful gargle emanated from his throat. Several others were close behind him, and beyond that, the entire pack of over 20 infected.  They limped and surged, moving like a tidal wave toward me.  I kicked my leg, trying to break his hold, but his fingers dug hard into my leg.  Were it not for my jeans he surely would have pierced my skin.  I kept a firm hold on the fence, using my weight of my torso as leverage to keep me from falling back into the growing crowd.  With my free leg I kicked hard, missing his face by inches.  I kicked again and felt my toe glance off his forehead.  He shuddered but did not release me.  A second set of hands wrapped around my ankle and I felt a wave of panic flow through me.  Suddenly a shot rang out into the air and felt the grip loosen.  I pulled my leg up quickly, pouring my body over the fence and onto the roof of the storage facility.  Footsteps approached, but the figure was silhouetted against the fading sun.  I held my hand to my eyes, trying to see the identity of my savior.  They had a small frame, a rifle over one shoulder, and extended a hand toward me.  "It's you," I heard a familiar voice say.  "Figured you'd get here eventually."