Fire Away

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

John woke up to found himself over the toilet the next morning with a damp rag on his head. He felt his stomach turn over and threw up every sip he had the night before. He let out a heavy groan as he heard sudden loud bangs coming from the doors downstairs. He turned his head in a quick motion, raising an eyebrow. He looked down at his fire axe laying beside him and picked it up.

He slowly made his way down the stairs as the banging grew louder. It was coming from the door at the bottom of the stairwell. He pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on, cautiously moving towards it. He could hear the infected growling outside as he pressed his ear against the door, feeling the thuds as they tried to break in.

He slumped over onto the floor, sitting with his back against the door as he shut his eyes and listened. He knew they weren't getting inside, yet every bang made him jump anyways. Since the night before, the infected seemed more determined than ever to get in.

John wasn't sure what their thought process was, or lack thereof, but he knew he needed to do something.

He got up and entered the garage bay, climbing onto a crate and looking out the windows. The front of his station was completely swarmed as he looked around. There were two ladder trucks, a high water rescue fire truck, and the Marshal's Patrol car. They had a few stacks of hoses amongst other things he could use once he had a solid plan. Then it struck him.

He rushed up the stairs to the rooftop with sixty feet of hose over his shoulder and a canister of gasoline in his hand. He stepped outside and went to the edge, overlooking the street below as he set his things down. There were still thousands lining the roads, and he knew he could herd them.

John took a moment to think, knowing the local area like the back of his hand. He eyeballed a wooden shed not far from the station and took a deep breath. He picked up the hose and threw it as hard as he could. It tangled up as he held it tightly.

It nearly dragged him off as he used his feet to keep leverage against the edge. He used all his strength to pull it back up and give it another shot. This time, he rolled it out a bit. He took another deep breath and chucked it. This time it was less tangled, but not far enough. He grunted angrily as he pulled the hose back up the side of the building again.

"Come on!" He tried to motivate himself.

He threw the hose hard, aiming for it to land just shy of the wooden shed. He missed again, having to reel it back up. He tried this again, and again, and again. After about an hour of his best efforts, he let out a heavy sigh as he felt the sun beating down on him. He was sweating through his shirt as he looked to the other rooftop, his person nowhere to be seen.

He let out an aggressive grunt as he threw the hose as far as he could, sticking the landing perfectly. It reached down the side of the building and rolled right to the doorstep of the wooden shed. He didn't even have it in him at that point to celebrate, but instead went straight back to work.

He picked up the canister of gasoline and drained it into the hose, watching it seep out of the other end. It pooled up right by the shed, creating a puddle.

"This has to work. It has to work." He muttered quietly to himself.

He set the canister down and drew his flare gun, aiming it at the puddle. He took a deep breath and squeezed, sending the burning flare straight into the gasoline. Fire erupted beside the shed, igniting the gas all the way through the hose back up to him.