Read Online Living With the Dead: This New Disease (Book 5) by Joshua Guess - Free Book Online
Authors: Joshua Guess
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things
aren't tall, five feet at most. But the center seam and the angles
made it almost impossible for the undead to climb the things. They
were forced in between the diamonds, funneled into small areas where
our teams of shield-bearers could hold them off while others mowed
them down.
We were worried at first that the New Breed would
retreat when they saw our people react with what was clearly a
pre-planned routine. To better entice them, we made sure one of the
deer our hunters brought in that morning was set aside. The smell of
blood and raw meat probably wouldn't do it alone, but the New Breed
couldn't smell that and see us, greatly outnumbered, and just walk
away.
I didn't get any front-line action in the fight. I was
serving as a bowman and unit commander. I was the one who ordered the
people in my wedge of our circle to raise their diamonds. I shouted
for the shield-bearers to move into position just as the first few
zombies rushed forward. The spearmen (and women) behind them didn't
need orders--they rushed forward exactly as practiced and set their
weapons butt-first in the earth.
The people behind
them? They threw
the first volley of gel bombs. Becky's nifty invention.
I
don't know what the hell she mixed the thermite with to turn
flammable dust that's very tricky to ignite into a sticky gel that's
hard to wipe off, but she did it. Every gel bomb is a just a water
balloon (one of the small ones, about the size of a grenade) filled
about halfway up. The things aren't tied at all, because the opening
of each balloon has a magnesium fuse in it. Turns out you can make
those really easily, and you don't need tons of magnesium to do it.
Mixed with some easily flammable dust (mostly scraped from matches),
those things light without too much fuss. It's dangerous as hell to
light one, but that's unavoidable.
The throwers worked in
groups of two. The person in front held their bomb in one hand, over
their shoulder. The person behind lit the fuse and gave the throw
order. The volleys weren't simultaneous, but the results
were awesome. Most
of the bombs hit their targets. Almost none managed head shots, as
our throwers were desperate to avoid accidents that might cause them
to lose a hand. But from where I stood, shouting orders and firing
arrows into the swarm around us, I saw many bombs splatter unlit into
chests, legs, arms, necks. The act of the balloon compressing against
a body was usually enough to cause the fuse to hit some small portion
of the gel--igniting it.
Even the bombs that hit the ground
did damage, as the brief but intense flares of heat were impossible
not to step on in the press. Zombies with suddenly useless feet and
lower legs fell to the ground, their brothers tripping over them. As
I stood on one of the small wooden boxes our archers carried into the
field (to get a better view of our targets), I realized that we might
actually win this one. Like, decisively win it. Not one of those
insane wins that require us to lose a lot of people.
I really
thought that as I saw a hundred and fifty gel bombs fly in less than
thirty seconds. As I fired arrow after arrow, saw the other archers
do the same. Oh, I worried when the zombies in the front got
desperate, too close for us to hit with gel bombs, and pushed super
hard. Our defense was good, but not perfect--they got through in twos
and threes. Our flying companies moved between the breeches, taking
down stragglers. I saw a couple people go down. But overall, we
held.
Most of our gel bombs had been used when the fight
really turned our way. We'd been heavily outnumbered at the
beginning, at least three to one. My best guess was that after a
scant few minutes, the number of undead left fully functional and
attacking was even with our fighters. That was when someone threw a
gel bomb that didn't quite make it. The thing bounced off a zombie
close to the front line, disintegrating into a flare of white fire as
it rebounded, and struck one of the
aren't tall, five feet at most. But the center seam and the angles
made it almost impossible for the undead to climb the things. They
were forced in between the diamonds, funneled into small areas where
our teams of shield-bearers could hold them off while others mowed
them down.
We were worried at first that the New Breed would
retreat when they saw our people react with what was clearly a
pre-planned routine. To better entice them, we made sure one of the
deer our hunters brought in that morning was set aside. The smell of
blood and raw meat probably wouldn't do it alone, but the New Breed
couldn't smell that and see us, greatly outnumbered, and just walk
away.
I didn't get any front-line action in the fight. I was
serving as a bowman and unit commander. I was the one who ordered the
people in my wedge of our circle to raise their diamonds. I shouted
for the shield-bearers to move into position just as the first few
zombies rushed forward. The spearmen (and women) behind them didn't
need orders--they rushed forward exactly as practiced and set their
weapons butt-first in the earth.
The people behind
them? They threw
the first volley of gel bombs. Becky's nifty invention.
I
don't know what the hell she mixed the thermite with to turn
flammable dust that's very tricky to ignite into a sticky gel that's
hard to wipe off, but she did it. Every gel bomb is a just a water
balloon (one of the small ones, about the size of a grenade) filled
about halfway up. The things aren't tied at all, because the opening
of each balloon has a magnesium fuse in it. Turns out you can make
those really easily, and you don't need tons of magnesium to do it.
Mixed with some easily flammable dust (mostly scraped from matches),
those things light without too much fuss. It's dangerous as hell to
light one, but that's unavoidable.
The throwers worked in
groups of two. The person in front held their bomb in one hand, over
their shoulder. The person behind lit the fuse and gave the throw
order. The volleys weren't simultaneous, but the results
were awesome. Most
of the bombs hit their targets. Almost none managed head shots, as
our throwers were desperate to avoid accidents that might cause them
to lose a hand. But from where I stood, shouting orders and firing
arrows into the swarm around us, I saw many bombs splatter unlit into
chests, legs, arms, necks. The act of the balloon compressing against
a body was usually enough to cause the fuse to hit some small portion
of the gel--igniting it.
Even the bombs that hit the ground
did damage, as the brief but intense flares of heat were impossible
not to step on in the press. Zombies with suddenly useless feet and
lower legs fell to the ground, their brothers tripping over them. As
I stood on one of the small wooden boxes our archers carried into the
field (to get a better view of our targets), I realized that we might
actually win this one. Like, decisively win it. Not one of those
insane wins that require us to lose a lot of people.
I really
thought that as I saw a hundred and fifty gel bombs fly in less than
thirty seconds. As I fired arrow after arrow, saw the other archers
do the same. Oh, I worried when the zombies in the front got
desperate, too close for us to hit with gel bombs, and pushed super
hard. Our defense was good, but not perfect--they got through in twos
and threes. Our flying companies moved between the breeches, taking
down stragglers. I saw a couple people go down. But overall, we
held.
Most of our gel bombs had been used when the fight
really turned our way. We'd been heavily outnumbered at the
beginning, at least three to one. My best guess was that after a
scant few minutes, the number of undead left fully functional and
attacking was even with our fighters. That was when someone threw a
gel bomb that didn't quite make it. The thing bounced off a zombie
close to the front line, disintegrating into a flare of white fire as
it rebounded, and struck one of the
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