Chapter LIX: The Hollow Tower

The centre of Truck Cemetery echoed with gunshots, as two Redemption members holed up in the tower at its centre desperately held back an ever growing tide of Zombified. They had sniped stragglers at the start, but it had agitated a lot of the groups of braindead around the area, causing them to converge on their location. Now, around a dozen squads of Zombified stalkers slowly limped and staggered towards Dima and Toha.

Dima's Val was getting hotter with every shot, the heat so severe that air was starting to distort over the barrel. But there was little he could do to help his steaming gun, they needed to stop the pitiful creatures. Toha was quickly placing IEDs on the ground and on the first level of the tower, hoping to trap the Zombified if they ever got too close. Dima kept blowing holes into zombies that got too close, but his ammo supply was rapidly dwindling. He sent a quick message to anyone on the PDA network, asking for help.

• Toha? You need to drag your ass up here soon, they're getting too close, Dima shouted to his companion, as yet another swarm of angry 9x18mm ammunition dented the side of the tower.

• I'm coming, just need to place this one... Argh!, Toha screamed and fell silent.

• Toha? What happened? Don't you go quiet on me now!, Dima yelled in frustration, ending yet another zombie with a well-placed round to the forehead, but no reply came from Toha. Dima weighed actions in his head, his merc training and experience keeping him calm under the pressure. If he rushed to Toha, he could maybe save him, but he'd also put himself on the firing line, possibly dooming them both or himself if Toha already bit the bullet.

A groan, an actual human groan of pain came from downstairs. Toha was alive. Dima fired the rest of his 20-round magazine into the closest group of Zombified and ran for Toha. He found him laying on the first floor of the tower, crying very quietly. Toha was bleeding, hit by a buckshot round. He'd live, but would need patching up. Dima grabbed him and tossed him over his shoulders, Toha screaming from pain. Sending a prayer to anyone listening, Dima started painfully pushing up the stairs. Pistol and assault rifle rounds bounced around him, and anyone actually competent would have easily hit them already. Thankfully for them, Zombified can't hit the inside of a barn from the inside with an RPG.

After a long struggle up the stairs, Dima managed to get up. He lowered Toha to the ground and quickly patched his wounds. Shoddy work, he knew it, but it was the best he could do right now. Dima gave Toha some morphine, making his groaning and cries stop, a peaceful smile coming over his face. Dima turned around, loaded a fresh magazine into his rifle and scanned the maze of wrecks for more targets. A few stragglers received swift delivery out of the world of the living, but for the most part there were very few Zombified in sight.

That was when the first explosive went off. The blast shook the tower, almost causing Dima to fall over the ledge, but he grabbed the side of it just in time. Letting his pulse calm down for a second, he checked on Toha, who was now sleeping like a baby, uncaring of the ruckus. It's all up to me now, Dima thought, loading the last rounds he had into the Val, placing his KS-23 on the box next to him alongside his pistol.

• Come on then, ya brainless sukas, I'll be waiting, Dima muttered to himself mostly, chambering a round and removing the PSO scope from his rifle, there was no use it this close. The Zombified were now so close that Dima could hear their pained speech. They were muttering about just one artefact, others were talking to their daughters or sons, yet another was speaking that there was just a couple more steps to get to that shelter. One even whispered that it was indeed quite a funny looking man with those blue jeans and big head.

So this is it, the dead have come to claim the living, Dima thought. The first zombie peaked over the ledge, and was promptly beheaded by Dima's rifle round. Another suffered the same fate, and Dima decided to toss a grenade downstairs. He had been saving a single fragmentation grenade for this, and the pineapple-shaped explosive rolled down the stairway, passing multiple legs of braindead stalkers. Yet another explosion shook the tower, making it creak and wail horribly, metal scratching against metal and releasing ear-piercing screetches.

The explosion slowed the assault of Zombified for a minute or so, giving Dima enough time position behind a crate. He place his Val on top of it, giving it the best possible stability and accuracy. Every shot counted now. More hollow things flooded in, each groaning when their last pain receptors were activated for the last time by a 9mm rifle bullet. Dima's Val swept the stairs like Grim Reaper's scythe, the corpses making it difficult for the other husks to get up. Another Zombified appeared on the last level of the tower, pistol raised. Dima took aim and squeezed the trigger, releasing a resounding click. The Val was empty.

Lightning-fast, Dima grabbed his KS-23, this time releasing a thunder of lead and shrapnel from its barrel, disintegrating the husk. The day was growing late, shadows becoming longer and larger. The evening sun brought its warmth to his face, and he gave a glance towards the sun. End of the line, Dima thought, who would have guessed it would come like this? Damn it, if Boris had joined them there would be no problems like this. He pumped another round into his gigantic shotgun and fired, sending chunks of meat flying from the Zombified.

• Toha my boy, I do believe we are properly fucked right now, Dima whispered to his unconcious companion while charging his shotgun once more.

A burst of machine gun fire could be heard coming from downstairs, followed by groans of dying Zombified. The cavalry had arrived, Dima thought, loading two shrapnel rounds into his weapon. He decided it was worth striking the husks from another point, and rushed down the stairs, releasing yet more of the former humans from their painful existence. His shotgun ran out, and one of the last zombies raised its rifle towards him. Even as Dima was grabbing the grip of his pistol he knew that it was futile. He could never be fast enough.

A shot rang out, but it struck the panel above Dima's head. Bemused, Dima raised his pistol and saw the Zombified nailed in place, Mosin pointing upwards. A blade was sticking out of its chest, its mumbling silenced at last. Slowly, the corpse slid off the blade, collapsing onto the floor.

• Kept us waiting, huh?, Dima asked with a relieved grin. Boris had heard the call for aid. The look on Boris' face wiped the grin off Dima's face.

• We've got a new problem, a big one, Boris said, his face more serious than ever.