Lost in Los Angeles- Chapter 3
#3 of Lost in LA
Lost in Los Angeles- Chapter 3
"Where the fuck are they?" A metallic clack sound accompanied these words as the charging handle racked back.
A nine millimeter Parabellum pistol round slipped into the chamber of the Calico M-960A submachine gun clutched in her hands. Her hands gripped the synthetic pistol grips tightly, holding it up and ready to fire.
Her right thumb flicked the fire selector, switching it into semi-automatic mode to conserve ammunition.
A moan sounded behind her, and she whipped around, bringing the little gun up to bear and pulling the trigger.
The gun barked, brass casing bouncing off the wall. The round punched through the zombie's face, splattering blood and brains across the wall. The zombie dropped to the floor. Another one stepped up over its fallen brethren and reached for her.
Another bark sounded as the gun went off again, dropping the second zombie.
"Damn, there's too many!"
She dropped another pair of zombies with twin headshots and took off running. Her bandolier clanked with extra magazines and the snap for the pistol holstered at her waist clicked against the slide with each step.
She ran on and on, not stopping for breath. Her chest heaved with each pant, and her legs soon started to ache from the endless exertion.
Something caught her foot and she went sprawling on the ground. She looked around and saw that a legless zombie had gotten a hold on her foot. Her hand went to her pistol and drew it in a smooth motion, flicking off the safety and putting a round right between the zombie's undead eyes.
She scrambled free and kept running, trying to put as much distance between her and the undead as possible. She gripped her Walther tightly in her gloved hands, ready to use it at a moment's notice.
The growl of a heavy-duty diesel engine caught her attention, and she turned to look right at a military Hummer that was rolling up the street with an Army soldier at the big machine gun on the top.
She stopped, debating on whether or not to attract their attention. They could either be very helpful or damned dangerous. Crouching behind a car, she withdrew a pair of high-powered binoculars from her pack and brought them up to her eyes, twiddling the focus dial with her thumb so that everything was crystal clear.
There were two in the front, another in the back seat, and a fourth manning the Browning M2 fifty caliber machine gun mounted on the roof. The passengers, aside from the gunner, were cradling M4A1 assault rifles. All were dressed in full-on tactical gear, with helmets and Kevlar vests.
As she spied on the quartet of soldiers, they stopped their Hummer next to an abandoned car. The guy up top rotated the machine gun to bear on the vehicle and the one in the back got out, bringing up his rifle.
The radio at her belt crackled.
"What've you got?" came a scratchy voice.
"Nothing. Just shadows."
"Then let's roll. We have to rendezvous with a group at LAX."
"Alright, alright, hold on."
The soldier climbed back up into the Hummer and it slowly rolled down the street, accompanied by the rumble from its engine.
Penny made a snap decision and yanked the military walkie-talkie off her belt and keyed the button.
"Hailing United States Army foot soldiers on Wilshire Boulevard, I am at your six o'clock, one hundred meters, requesting some assistance."
"Acknowledged. Step on out where we can see you."
She stepped out from behind the wrecked car after holstering her pistol, hands up in the air. The Army guys stopped their Hummer again and three of them got out, one staying on the machine gun and bringing it around just in case she was hostile.
"What's your name, girl?" called one of them, a burly black man with an M4 grenadier clutched in his hands.
"Penny Forrester, sir."
"How did you get one of our radios?"
"I..." She had to tread carefully. "I found it laying on the floor a few days ago, with some of these." She fingered the flashbang grenades clipped to her belt. "Nothing else, other than ammunition."
"Interesting..." The lead soldier turned to confer with his comrades for a moment before turning back. "What else are you carrying?"
"I've got an M960A on my back, a P99 on my hip, and an Emerson CQB-7."
"Where'd you get all that?"
"The machine gun I bought from some guy that was selling a whole bunch of stuff. The P99 was my mom's, and I got it when she died. I bought the Emerson off the internet before all this shit started."
"Where you from?"
"Originally here, but I live in some little town in Nebraska now. I came in for a convention."
"You look mighty familiar," said one of the other soldiers with a Southern accent. "I swear I seen you before."
"I was on TV. Ever seen a show called Bolt?" she asked with a grin.
"Yeah! My kids watch that all the time."
"That was me and my dog. We got separated a few days ago and I need some help searching for him."
"Lil' lady, we're Army. We can't go around helping find your dog. What about your parents?"
"Like I said, my mom's dead, and I never knew my father."
"I'm real sorry to hear that," said the Southern soldier.
"Anything we can do to help?" asked the last soldier, a slightly built female. She looked kind, but then, she was carrying a military rifle.
"I'm starting to run low on ammo. You guys wouldn't happen to have any nine mil' Parabellums, would ya?"
"Actually, as a matter of fact, I think we have a big case of those in the back," said Southern man.
Penny smiled. Things were starting to look up.
Two of the soldiers went to the back of their vehicle and got out a big box and brought it over.
"Here ya go. Take as much as you need."
"Thanks, guys, that's a big help." Penny pulled out more than a dozen empty clips for both guns and cracked open the box of ammo, reloading them with swift practiced movements. She then pulled the clips out of both guns and topped them off, slotting them back into their receivers.
"You all set, hon? How are you on food?"
"I'm okay, I think. I've got some energy bars and water in my pack."
"You sure you don't need anything else?"
"I think so. I didn't get your names."
"I'm Shawn ," said the black man.
"I'm Ricky," added the guy with the Southern accent.
"And I'm Trudy. That guy up on the gun is Michael."
"Nice to meet you all. Hope you guys stay safe."
"You too, little lady. If you need us, just give us a shout." Ricky stepped forward and tapped the radio at her belt. "We'll come and lend you a hand if we can. Hope you find your buddy."
"Thanks guys," Penny said, checking herself before turning to leave.
"Hold on a second," said Ricky after a second. "I've got something for ya."
"Hmm?" Penny said, turning back.
Ricky stretched his hand out and opened it. Sitting in his palm was a set of car keys, Toyota, based on the logo on the fob. "You might need these to get around."
"A car?"
"Yeah. It's a Toyota Tacoma. The blue one parked outside of Denny's just a few blocks away. We figured it might stop someone from stealing it, but I like you, kid. It's yours."
Penny looked down at the keys in her hand, then back up at the kind soldier.
"Thank you. I hope it'll help."
"Don't mention it."
Penny stepped up to him and embraced the built soldier in a hug. "I owe ya one."
"You don't owe me anything, darlin'. Just put it to good use, okay? I can tell that you're an upstanding kid, and I think you deserve some good luck like this."
"Like you said to call you if I need help, you do the same. I'll be on channel seven."
Ricky smiled and nodded. "I'll do that."
Penny smiled back at him and took off running to retrieve her new truck.