Operation Z | Novella | Everyone Dies

by Szepanski, G. D.

  Lily walked through the slider, wearing the fluffy white hotel robe, pulling Jim from his thoughts of the past. “Good morning. You’re up early, Jim.”

  “Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you. Too much on my mind and I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Well, it’s a big day for you. You made it through your last mission. Congratulations on your retirement.”

  “Thanks. That’s what’s been troubling me. I happy to be done, but not sure of what comes next.”

  “Just enjoy life. What did you do before?”

  “I joined the PS when I was 18. So, before that, I worked on my family’s corn farm in Iowa.”

  Lily laughed. “I can’t imagine you as a farmer.”

  “Lily, why don’t you come with me?”

  “What?”

  “Leave the CIA and start a life with me.”

  “As a farmer? Sorry, that wouldn’t work for me.”

  “We don’t have to go to Iowa. Would could go anywhere. With you at my side, I can face anything.”

  She smiled at Jim, but the smile quickly faded. “You don’t understand. Things are easier for you as a man. I was the first successful Navy Seal and female recruit to JSOC. I can’t throw all that away for anyone. Even you, Jim. I do love you, but I just can’t do it. Please stay out here while I gather my things and go. I can’t stand to see the hurt in your eyes.”

  With tears running down her checks, Lily turned away from Jim and walked back into the hotel room. He heard Lily banging around inside the room and then the room door slammed shut. The sea breeze dried the tears which rolled down his face. Only the unknown lay ahead of Jim and he would face it all alone.

  Big Jim stayed at the hotel for another week. On day number five, a package arrived for him. It released him from service with a thank you and gave him the paperwork for his retirement. A reminder about the top-secret nature of his work with the PS and a warning to not discuss it with anyone. To the world, James Richards had served in the Marines and retired a Colonel. If anyone ever questions his service, the message was to obfuscate and lie. In addition, they provided a onetime payment of $10 million tax free to an offshore account for his service. Jim laughed to himself, realizing the PS used both the carrot and the stick on their retirees. He was happy to leave the life behind and never wanted to see any of them again.

  The last day of his stay in this paradise came too fast. Now he had to face the future, but no fresh revelations came to him. With no other options, Jim headed to Iowa and visit his brother, Judd Richards. Judd had taken up the family business and farmed corn on 350 acres of fertile Iowa farmland. They had always been close growing up, even with the four years that separated them. Jim had wished he had been a better big brother these last 15 years, but maybe he could make up for it now.

  A top of the line Learjet sat waiting to fly Jim to Iowa. It would be his last benefit from the PS. At the other end, the local Ford dealer had a brand new F150 waiting for him. Might as well spend the money he earned for some good. The GPS directed him to Judd’s place. It was close to the farm he grew up on, but Judd had been smart and grew the business well beyond their father’s old farm.

  Jim drove down the long driveway to the large farmhouse. No one would ever call Judd tiny, but he was a smaller man than Jim. He stood at only six feet tall and weighed around 200 pounds. His skin had become well tanned by the summer sun and his hair bleached blond. The same easy-going smile Jim remembered growing up lit up Judd’s face. He ran toward Jim and squeezed him in a bear hug.

  “Jim, it’s so good to see you. It’s been ages.”

  “It’s good to see you too, little brother. Is it alright if I stay with you for a while? I’m between jobs right now.”

  “Shit, yeah! I’d love to catch up with you. Stay as long as you want. You’re always welcome wherever I am.”

  “The place looks great.”

  “Thanks. Let’s grab your stuff and I’ll show you around. Do you remember Melody?”

  “Little Melody? Of course. She was your age and always crushed on me when I was in high school.”

  “Well, she’s all grown up now and I don’t think she’s over that crush. She’ll be glad to know you’re here for a visit. Maybe you’ll get lucky?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Day Three

  BIG JIM AWOKE with the rising sun. He always had the natural ability to wake up at a time of his choosing, and Jim knew he needed an early start to the day. Tears blurred his eyes as the aftermath of last night’s dream about Lily faded from memory. It would be a miracle if she were still alive. Jim grieved over the death of Melody, Mary, and all the nameless people he tried to save at the zoo. The weight of all this loss piled upon his shoulders and threatened to smother him, but Big Jim kept going. There had to be other survivors out there somewhere he could help. He just had to go out and find them.

  The power remained on in the house where Jim trespassed for the night. Before it failed forever, he took a hot shower and ate a hot breakfast. No saying how long this good luck would last. Jim packed the truck with all the non-perishable food, the stolen electric bike, and a Smith & Wesson 38 Special he found in a nightstand in the bedroom. He hit the jackpot staying here.

  When he climbed into the truck, he discovered his direction of travel had in fact been southwest and not pure west as he originally thought. Big Jim decided his best designation would now be the mountains of Tennessee. They were far enough from any major city which would be safer from any more nuclear weapon attacks and zombies. Any survivalist would pick the area too, so it was his best chance of find other people to help.

  The stolen F150 ran like a champ. It had been a newer model, and the owner spared no expense with all the options on the truck. Jim still found random cars abandoned along his route, but no other traffic moved. There had to be other survivors. Around midday he found a teenage girl hitchhiking alongside of the road. Since this was the first living person he saw since Mary, he stopped to give her a ride.

  “Hi, I’m Jim. I’m glad to see another survivor. Do you need a ride?”

  “Uh… Yeah... Sure, I’m Beth. I’m glad to see you too…”

  Jim noticed Beth didn’t make eye contact with him when she spoke, and she searched for her words. She didn’t appear to be a drug addict, so he thought she might only be scared traveling on her own.

  “Well, climb aboard then.” He added a big smile, hoping to relieve her fears.

  Beth climbed in slowly, not like one being saved from a deserted island but like one heading to the gas chamber. She took the passenger’s seat and pulled the door closed, all the while avoiding any eye contact with Jim.

  “I’m planning on heading to the mountains of Tennessee and you’re welcome to come with me. Otherwise, I can drop you off anywhere along the way.”

  Jim hoped she would consent to traveling with him. He could use the company and he would hate to doom her to a certain death.

  “Um… Ok… We’ll see.” Beth wasn’t turning out to be much of a conversationalist.

  They drove on in silence. After entering a blind sweeping turn, she finally spoke again.

  “I need you to keep your hand on the steering wheel and prepare to stop. Sorry, it’s just survival of the fittest.”

  Beth pointed a Glock 30S at Jim with a shaking hand. He knew he could disarm her with little effort and prepared to do so when he noticed the ratty pickup truck blocking the road ahead of them. Two men armed with older hunting rifles stood behind the truck. None of them were professionals, and they didn’t know who they were messing with.

  “Beth, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, I do. Those two are forcing me and they’ll kill me if I don’t. Living with them isn’t pleasant either, but it’s better than trying to survive on my own.”

  “I could protect you.”

  “You’ve got three guns pointed at you. Just do what you’re told and maybe they won’t kill you.”

  Beth’s eyes danced everywhere, except f
or looking at Jim. He took advantage of her distraction to stuff the 38 Special out of sight into the belt on his jeans. Jim had only five shots, but he’d make them all count.

  “If you give me that gun now, I’ll protect you.”

  “Don’t think so. The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.”

  “I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but I’m not like them. Not everyone is evil.”

  She only responded with a mirthless chuckle. Big Jim eased the truck to a stop and prepared for action.

  “Looky ‘ere. What’s you bring us, Beth?” The greasy looking red neck standing furthest from them spoke. Even if he didn’t look like it, he must be the brains of the group.

  “Step out slowly. Nothin’ stupid. Cover ‘im, Rufus.”

  The second man, Rufus, wore dirty overalls with a torn flannel shirt underneath. His high fashion sense included cutting the sleeves of the shirt, making it into his own wife beater. Jim knew there must be some symbolism there. Rufus’ long beard hadn’t been groomed or cleaned for months, and Jim wouldn’t be surprised if lice infested it. Beth had found a couple of real winners to hang out with.

  Rufus approached Big Jim as he climbed out of the truck. He led the way with a beat-up bolt-action hunting rifle. Stopping short would have been smart, but neither of these guys were. Instead, Rufus jammed the barrel of the gun into Jim’s chest. This was the break Jim needed.

  With one fluid move, Jim knocked the rifle barrel away from his chest with his right hand and drove his left through Rufus’ head. The man’s neck snapped at an odd angle and he dropped to the ground in a heap. Jim’s right hand continued around and pulled the 38 Special out from his belt. It looked like a cap gun in a tootler’s hand, but much more deadly. He squeezed off three shots at the redneck who had spoken, and two of three found their mark. Two down and still two rounds left in the gun.

  The entire battle took seconds, and Beth hadn’t moved during it. Jim turned the gun on her.

  “You have a choice to make now, and it’s an important one. Put the gun down or end up like your two friends.”

  Beth’s eyes still roamed the battlefield, but the gun lay impotent at her side. When she finally focused on Jim, her eyes blinked rapidly while tears formed at the edges. She stared without saying a word.

  “Slowly, open the door and climb out of the truck. Leave the pistol behind.”

  For a moment, Beth just stared at Jim but didn’t move. She was a young girl who got mixed up with two losers. Jim hoped she would comply because shooting her would be so wrong. Beth finally reached for the door handle and climbed out of the truck. He grabbed the Glock off the seat and checked the load. The magazine held bullets, but there wasn’t a chambered round. He chambered a round and tucked the revolver back into his belt.

  Before dealing with Beth, Jim checked on the two other men to make sure they were out of the fight. The blow Rufus took did him in. Jim scrambled his brains with the powerful punch. As he moved around the ratty old pickup truck, he saw the effects of his shooting. One round hit the man’s shoulder, and another drilled him through the forehead. Jim’s third shot had missed. Oh well, no one was perfect.

  He turned back toward his stolen truck and didn’t see Beth. Before he called out, he scanned the area. Beth had taken the opportunity to run while Jim’s attention was elsewhere, but she didn’t get far. Her corpse lay on the ground in front of the trees, being ripped apart by three zombies.

  “Shit!” Jim cursed out loud over the waste of another life. Everyone he met ended up cursed. There would be no helping Beth, so he climbed back into the truck and set off down the road.

  A few hours later, the F150 ran low on gas and Jim came across an old gas station. Pay at the pump never came to this place, and Jim hadn’t seen gas pumps like these for years. The electricity remained on, but Jim knew he had to go inside to authorize the pump. A small convenience store sat on the property along with two garage stalls. It reeked of age but had been well kept.

  Big Jim approached the front door and found it unlocked. He led with the 38 Special, remembering it only had two rounds left in it. A blood trail ran from in front of the cashier stand and down the center aisle of the store. The trail led to a corpse being devoured by two zombies. They must’ve ambushed a potential customer. Not great customer service. Neither zombie sensed his presence, and they kept devouring their victim’s insides. It was a gruesome sight, becoming more common with each passing day.

  With their backs to him, Jim drilled the two monsters through the back of their heads with the last two rounds in his gun. Their gore joined their victim’s on the store’s floor. So much for the place being clean. As he turned back to the cashier’s stand, a third zombie bum rushed him. Jim could count to five, so he knew the gun held no more rounds. It did however work as an effective bludgeon and two quick blows to the head rendered the monster lifeless.

  Jim dropped the gun on the floor since he had no more ammo for it and didn’t know where he’d find more. He walked around the back of the counter and authorized the pump he parked the truck in front of. Underneath the counter, Jim found a Mossberg shorty pump shotgun with a pistol grip and a box of shells. This lifestyle of looting didn’t make Jim proud, but he decided he needed to take advantage of anything he found while he could. There must be other survivors and times would get tough quick with no new supplies being delivered.

  The truck, along with the five Jerry cans he found inside the store, were filled from the gas pump out front. He loaded five cases of water along with some of the healthier snack alternatives he found. Jim would be ok for weeks with the supplies he had on hand, but he still hoped to find other survivors to help. Even if his track record hadn’t been good at helping people so far. Someone had to live.

  Jim made the border of Tennessee before having to stop again for the night. He discovered a rustic-looking log cabin well off the main road. It must have been a wealthy man’s getaway since the outside looked rustic, but the interior had every luxury known to man. As Jim cleared the house, he found no signs of any recent visitors. There wasn’t any stored food in the pantry, but he found a glass front gun cabinet in one room. It held three high priced shotguns designed as conversation starters rather than serious weapons. A cleaning kit along with five boxes of shells were in the drawer underneath the display.

  Before he retired for the night, Jim tore down and cleaned the Mossberg he took from the gas station. He found the gun to be like new, so he cleaned, oiled and reassembled it. With nothing but time, he tore Beth’s Glock down too. This weapon suffered from a lack of attention, so he did the best he could with it. There were seven rounds in the magazine and would hold on to it for now since it was easy to conceal. If he found more 45 caliber ammo, he would try to work on the gun some more.

  Night fell and Jim drifted off to sleep in the second-floor bedroom. There was only one bedroom upstairs, and he used furniture to secure his location. This was the best he could do since he needed to rest and remained alone. With all the action and pain of the last three days, Jim fell into a deep sleep. He programmed his internal clock to wake him up at dawn to get an early start on the day.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Day Four

  A CREAK FROM the floorboards downstairs roused Big Jim from sleep. He grabbed the Mossberg and rolled to the side of the bed, away from the door. Whispered voices came from the first floor, but Jim couldn’t understand the words they spoke. From their movements he knew there were two intruders, and they were both untrained and undisciplined. The advantage of surprise, elevation, and training all went to Jim, but he was reluctant to be responsible for more death.

  Jim tried to defuse the situation. “Hi, my name is Jim. I’m no threat to you. Come out where I can see you and I won’t hurt you.”

  All sounds of movement below stopped with the echoing of his voice within the cabin. It took a few moments before anyone responded.

  “Nice try, buddy. We’re armed and we want your stuff. Give
it up and we’ll let you live.” Another short-whispered conversation followed the man’s voice. Even with the quiet inside the structure, he couldn’t catch the words, but he recognized the second voice as female.

  “Sorry, I’m not giving up my stuff. However, I’m willing to work with you and share. There’s safety in numbers.”

  The man laughed before responding. “Work together. Share. You’re funny. This is how it’s going to work. Throw down the keys to the truck and we’ll let you escape with your life. You’re outnumbered and we’re armed. There’s no escape for you.”

  “Look, I’ve been patient with you and kind. I will not give you the keys and if you try to come up here, I’ll kill you. I’ve offered you a chance to survive together, either take it or walk away now. Otherwise, my patience will end, and you will die.”

  More urgent whispers came from the female voice. Jim still couldn’t understand her words, but the tone implied a critical message. The floorboards creaked again, signifying further movement.

  He laid the shotgun down at his side and aimed the Glock down the stairs. Neither were effective long-range weapons, but he guessed the 45 caliber rounds would do more damage even being fired from the short barrel. A dark figure appeared at the bottom of the steps.

  “Stop!” Jim shouted with his most commanding voice, but it didn’t stop the charge. He aimed down at the figure and pulled the trigger. It took four rounds from the Glock to stop the figure’s advance. Dawn was coming, but not enough light entered the house for Jim to see where the bullets hit. The body slid down the steps, not trying to arrest their fall, so Jim expected the rounds had been fatal.

  A woman’s voice called out from the first floor. “Please, don’t shoot. I told Mike this was a stupid idea. My son and I will leave. Just please don’t hurt us.”

  Jim pocketed the Glock and picked up the shotgun. “What’s your name?”

  “Huh… My name is Nancy and my son is Chris. Mike was my neighbor, and he said he would take care of us. I never should have trusted him.”