Week 18: Just Like the Good Old Days

I am not sure if we won the battle or not, but we did survive. Half of the fortified squares fell in the process and the Savannah Coalition lost about 25 soldiers to the enemies. To give them credit, not one civilian was attacked nor was a single private residence broken into. I guess it was actually a good outcome considering the size of the horde that came flooding in.

Each square had been converted to a fortress. A thick wood and timber wall had been erected around the perimeter of each square with horizontal slots for the canons and other weapons to aim through. The wooden posts that made up these walls had been sharpened to spikes at the top and a landing/walkway was added just on the inside of the wall for patrols to move about on. They were like mini-forts pulled right out of some spaghetti-western.

And within the confines of one of those forts Brenda and I sat and waited. Not sure why we volunteered. Brenda seemed to be interested in helping them out with her nursing background and I guess I didn't want to look like a coward. In reality I just wanted to get back to searching for Matthew, but Brenda had already said she would help and I wasn't going to abandon her.

So we waited and soon the deluge began. We heard them first. Like a stampede rumbling through the valley. Then we saw them.

Strategically speaking, being able to see in all four directions makes sense. But from the standpoint of morale, it was a crushing detriment. Every way you turned there was an advancing crowd of zombies filling the streets.. overwhelming your senses. Many of the soldiers simply went catatonic until it was over.

Shooting at the zombies from a distance doesn't do much good. You may hit them but you won't stop them. That is why the Savannah Coalition had us following the orders of a long dead commander from the Revolutionary War. We were not to fire until we could see the whites of their eyes. And that is exactly what we did.

Jesus you should have seen the cannon balls cut through the crowd. It was sheer overkill. Like blowing up pumpkins with sticks of dynamite. The whole time I just kept reloading my shotgun and blowing the heads off any meat puppet that came near my section of the wall. Eventually the flood subsided and the clean-up began. As fun as that sounded, we did not stick around for that part of the battle. I did warn them of the concentrated zombie juice, however.

Now we are finally back on the road and headed north once again.