Free Web NovelChapter 235: Chapter 235 - Forced Through
Malcolm POV
The sun was dropping behind the buildings, turning the streets below darker by the minute, and Malcolm knew the roof would not save them once night came.
"We can’t stay here," he said.
Archie looked up fast. "Why not? They can’t climb here."
Malcolm looked at the edge where the hunter had fallen between the buildings. "One already jumped."
Archie’s mouth closed.
Harry wiped sweat off his jaw with the back of his hand and looked toward the roof they came from. "Guns are over there."
Malcolm already knew. The rifles, the extra rounds, half their supplies, all left behind when they ran and jumped. They were lying on the other roof near the stairwell door, and that roof now had close to twenty walkers dragging around the place, pulled up by the noise and blocked by the roof door they had broken through.
Arnulf stared at the next building, his face tight. "We go back, we stir everything again."
"We stay, hunters come," Malcolm said.
Archie shook his head, still breathing too fast. "Then we stay for the night. We keep quiet. We wait until morning."
Malcolm turned to him. "In the dark?"
Archie swallowed.
"You heard it click," Malcolm said. "You saw it jump. You want to wait here blind?"
Archie looked away.
Arnulf stepped closer to the edge and looked toward the direction of the base. His eyes stayed there too long. "They don’t have enough weapons."
Malcolm said nothing, but Iyisha’s name hit hard in his chest. Lance was weak. Marybeth had a mouth and a knife. Aljun had nerve when it counted, but not enough training. If that hunter came from the base, if those bullet holes in its chest were from there, then every minute they wasted was another minute the others might be alone with nothing.
Harry looked over the next line of roofs. "There’s no clean path."
"No," Malcolm said.
The gaps were bad. Some rooftops were too far. Some had railings that would slow them down. One had a locked access shed and no visible exit. The street routes were worse. Walkers packed the nearest block, and more were still feeding in from the noise, dragging themselves around cars and broken posts.
The twitchers stayed scattered in the horde, jerking in place, waiting for another sound to set them loose.
Arnulf pointed down. "There. Smaller number on that side."
Malcolm followed his line of sight. A narrow street between two buildings. Fewer walkers, maybe forty in the first stretch. Still too many with no guns. Still possible if they moved behind something.
"We need cover," Malcolm said.
Archie rubbed both hands over his face. "Like in movies? Put blood on our clothes and walk through?"
"No."
"It works sometimes."
"No, it doesn’t."
Harry gave Archie a look. "You want to bet your skin on a movie?"
Archie shut up.
Arnulf leaned farther over the edge, then pointed below. "Shopping carts."
Malcolm looked.
A small grocery store sat at the corner, its front partly collapsed. Outside it, several metal carts were scattered near the entrance, some overturned, some jammed together. A few were rusted, but the frames looked intact.
Arnulf kept looking, thinking fast now. "Tie them together. Stack whatever we can inside. Doors, shelves, bags, anything. Make a moving barrier."
Harry stared down at them. "Against a horde?"
"Not a horde," Arnulf said. "A narrow street. Smaller group. We keep them upright and push through."
Malcolm studied the street. The carts would make noise. The wheels would fight them. The undead would press from every side. But it was better than walking into teeth with nothing but knives.
"We get the guns first," Malcolm said. "Then carts."
Archie’s face drained. "Back there?"
Malcolm looked at him. "You jump when I say. You don’t stop. You don’t fire unless I tell you."
Archie nodded, but his hands were already shaking.
Malcolm moved to the edge and looked across. The roof they had left was worse now. Walkers crowded near the broken stairwell door, some dragging themselves across the roof, some bumping into vents and low walls. None of them moved fast, but there were enough bodies to turn one mistake into a pile.
He jumped first.
His boots hit the roof hard.
The sound carried.
Below, the undead stirred.
Malcolm was already moving. He drew the machete and drove it into the first walker’s skull before it fully turned. The second reached for him and he cut through its neck, kicked the body aside, then stepped into the next one before it could crowd him.
Harry landed behind him with a grunt. Arnulf came next, lower and cleaner. Archie landed last and stumbled, one hand hitting the gravel hard before he pushed himself up.
"Get the guns," Malcolm said.
Harry and Arnulf moved for the weapons while Malcolm cleared the nearest dead. He didn’t swing wide. No wasted motion. Machete up, strike down, boot to the chest, shove away. A walker grabbed his sleeve and he broke its wrist against the edge of a vent before cutting into its head.
Archie raised his rifle at a walker ten feet away.
"Don’t shoot," Malcolm snapped.
Archie jerked, lowered it, then grabbed the fallen bag instead.
The stairwell door shook from below.
More were coming up.
"Harry."
"Got them."
"Door."
Arnulf and Harry dragged a rusted maintenance shelf across the roof and jammed it against the stairwell door. Malcolm kicked a dead body into the gap, then shoved another against the lower frame. It would not hold long, but it would hold enough.
They cleared the roof fast after that. Not clean. Not quiet. Just fast.
By the time they were done, the roof was slick in places, and the street below had begun to move again. The undead had heard the landing. They were drifting toward the building, bunching below the walls, hands lifting at nothing.
Malcolm looked down at the grocery store corner. "Now."
They climbed down through the access building, moved through a stairwell that smelled of mold and old blood, then forced their way through the second floor and out through a broken side window onto a low awning. From there, they dropped into the alley beside the grocery store.
The sound of their landing pulled heads.
Walkers turned.
Harry shoved the first shopping cart upright. One wheel screamed against the concrete.
"Quiet," Archie whispered, uselessly.
Malcolm cut down the nearest walker and grabbed the front of the cart. "Move."
Arnulf and Harry pulled more carts together. Archie found a length of cord from a torn tarp and wrapped it around the frames with shaking hands. They tied three carts side by side, then two behind them, filling the baskets with broken shelving, plastic crates, torn boards, and anything that added height between them and teeth.
It looked ugly.
It looked weak.
It was all they had.
Malcolm broke the handle off a mop, tied his machete to it with wire and cloth, then tested the grip once. It would loosen. It would still reach farther than his arm.
They pushed out.
The carts rattled into the street, metal shaking, wheels dragging through old trash and broken glass. The walkers closest to them stirred at once, turning toward the sound, mouths opening as the barrier rolled forward.
Malcolm stayed at the front left, jabbing the machete blade through the gap when one came too close. Harry pushed beside him, shoulder low, face tight. Arnulf held the right side, shoving hard when the line bent. Archie stayed in the middle, pushing with both hands, eyes too wide as the dead pressed closer.
"Keep it straight," Malcolm said.
"I’m trying," Archie said.
"Try harder."
A walker hit the carts and pushed its face between two frames. Harry kicked it back. Malcolm drove the blade through its eye and pulled hard. The body dropped, but it fell under the wheels.
The cart bucked.
"Lift," Arnulf said.
They shoved harder. The wheel rolled over the body and dropped with a jolt.
More came in.
The barrier worked at first. The carts kept the walkers upright and away from their bodies. The dead pressed against metal instead of flesh, hands clawing through the gaps, teeth snapping at air. Malcolm cut the closest ones only when he had to. He saw the problem fast.
Too many bodies on the ground would ruin them.
If they dropped enough walkers in front, the carts would climb and stall. If the fallen crawled under, they would come at their legs through the bottom.
"Stop killing unless they reach," he said.
Harry grunted. "That’s a hell of a request."
"Do it."
They pushed deeper into the narrow street.
The pressure built.
The carts started to bend inward, the cord biting tight around the frames. A wheel caught in a crack and jerked sideways. Archie shoved without looking and opened a gap at the middle.
A hand shot through.
Archie cursed and jumped back.
Malcolm slammed his boot into the frame. "Push forward."
"It’s stuck."
"Push."
They hit it together. The wheel scraped, lifted, then dropped free, but the delay cost them. More walkers pressed from the sides. The barrier groaned, metal twisting under the weight.
Arnulf’s shoulder dug into the right side. "It’s giving."
"I know."
The street ahead was almost clear, but almost meant nothing. The horde behind them had tightened. The undead in front kept pressing inward. The carts were slowing with every foot.
Another body went down under the front.
The barrier climbed over it and tilted.
"Hold it," Malcolm snapped.
Harry and Arnulf shoved down. Archie pushed from the center, panic making him stronger for one clean second. The carts slammed flat again, but the frames had shifted. The middle gap was wider now.
Too wide.
A crawler dragged itself under, fingers scraping toward Harry’s boot.
Malcolm stabbed down and pinned its head to the street.
"Don’t drop them," he said. "Keep them standing."
Harry looked at the mass ahead and breathed hard. "We can’t keep pushing this."
Arnulf looked back. "We can’t go back either."
The carts jolted again.
The cord snapped on one side.
The right cart swung outward and the walkers pushed into the opening, hands reaching through, mouths snapping close enough for Archie to scream and stumble back. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
Malcolm grabbed his collar before he fell. "Stay up."
Archie’s eyes were wild. "It’s breaking."
Malcolm looked over the barrier.
The street ahead had a gap. Small. Dirty. Maybe enough if they ran hard and cut through the nearest bodies before the horde folded in.
He tightened his grip on the machete.
"We force through," he said.
Harry looked at him. "Through that?"
Malcolm shoved the loose cart back with his shoulder, holding it for one more breath as the dead pressed in from the other side.
"Yes."
Arnulf lifted his rifle and nodded once. "On you."
Malcolm looked at Archie. "No freezing."
Archie swallowed hard and nodded.
The barrier groaned again. Metal bent. A walker’s arm came through up to the shoulder.
Malcolm pulled the machete free.
"Now."
