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Ranger Martin (Book 2): Ranger Martin and the Alien Invasion

Page 5

by Flacco, Jack


  “Charlie would like it if we could bury his sister.”

  Studying the room, Trish found a towel on one of the shelves. She flung it open and walked to where Amber’s head lay. Careful with how she handled it, she covered it with the towel and made sure she wrapped it without sparking an incident. She didn’t want to drop it.

  In the meantime, Eddie drifted to Amber’s body and slipped his hands under its arms. It seemed as if Trish and Eddie had gone through this before. They played their parts without flinching, and carried out Matty’s request without so much as an argument.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll look after your sister.” Matty said, bending to tie her shoe. “Are you from here?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to follow them. I need some time alone.” Charlie said. He didn’t even give her the satisfaction of a good-bye.

  When Eddie, Trish and Charlie left the storage room, Jon asked, “Are we done here?”

  “Yeah, we’re done.” Matty rose, but didn’t look at him.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Randy, isn’t it? You left him and now you’re missing him?”

  “I left Ranger.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot. Because he was a jerk for carrying on like a big macho man.”

  “You don’t understand. One day he could have gotten us all killed. I didn’t like the idea of me picking pieces of you from the mouths of the undead.”

  “We were safe.”

  “For how long? Until he had decided he wanted to take out another stadium filled with eaters? No thanks. I’ve had my fill of adventure.”

  “Yeah, we’re really living it up here.”

  “Just drop it, okay.”

  “I miss Ranger.”

  Chapter 6

  As nightfall approached, Randy wiped his hair and face clean of the green blood that had sprayed in the backseat of the SUV. As his final act of closure with the old vehicle, he threw the towel over the face of the dead body, which, hours earlier at Oak Ridges, he had thoroughly carved with the blade of his knife, evidence that Randy had it in for any zombie that dared stake a claim on his hide.

  To add to the events soon after their escape from cottage country, Ranger and Randy had pulled into McDover Motors on the northeast corner of North Washington Avenue and West Center Street in Provo, searching for a new vehicle. While Randy cleaned himself, Ranger had broken into the main office without much resistance from anyone or anything, and swiped the keys to the new SUV parked in the lot. Luck played a part in much of Ranger’s life after the change, and he never felt the need to explain why he did what he did until Matty came along. McDover Motors sat a few blocks away from where he had dropped off Matty and Jon to fend for themselves.

  Unloading the back of the truck, Ranger moved the supplies to the new vehicle. While he walked passed Randy with a handful of items, he shook his head, not out of anger, but from all the trucks they’ve had to replace.

  “What did you want me to do, Ranger? Politely ask if it could leave so we could make a clean escape?”

  Ranger dumped the bags in the back of the shiny new SUV, and kept his focus on organizing everything. He couldn’t help chucking to himself as he remembered what Randy looked like covered from head to waist with zombie goo.

  But Randy didn’t find it funny. He slammed the backseat door leaving the old untidy truck behind. “Next time, you deal with it.”

  Within minutes, they left McDover Motors and drove west on Center Street passing empty shops, lots and schools. When they arrived at Perry Park, the location the boys had last seen Matty and Jon, they studied the area, carefully paying attention to the playground, the trees and the tall bronze statues surrounding them. The park spanned the length and width of a full block with residential neighborhoods running alongside.

  Ranger turned off the engine and asked, “What was your agreement with Matty?”

  “I didn’t have an agreement with Matty. Whoever would make it here first would wait for the other.” Randy said, as they stared at the grassy knoll from Ranger’s driver side window.

  “That was a while ago.” Ranger said, turning to Randy. “How do you know she’ll come back?”

  “I don’t know, but I trust she will.”

  “For how long, Randy?”

  “That didn’t come up.”

  “That didn’t come up.” Ranger repeated, but stopped short of mocking. “We might be waitin’ here for a long time. You know that, right?”

  “Right.”

  Ranger tightened his grip on the steering wheel, pressing on it as if he wanted to strangle someone. It didn’t last long, though. He came up with a light bulb moment. “We’ll stay here until moonlight, then we’ll find a place to sleep. I’m sure there’s somthin’ around here those gut snappers haven’t infested yet.”

  “I’m good with that.”

  For a while, Ranger didn’t have a problem sitting in the truck waiting for the kids to show, but, as he waited, he began to tap on the steering wheel, play with his cap, check his ammo, unbuckle and buckle his pants, and roll up his sleeves. He attempted to stay busy yet his mind wandered. He couldn’t imagine sitting there doing nothing while beyond the park there could have been more of the undead to kill and tyrants to overthrow. With those thoughts that ran through his head, he stepped from the vehicle and pulled his shotgun from its holster.

  “Where are you going?” Randy asked, still sitting in the passenger seat hoping Matty and Jon would appear soon so that they could go back to the silo in Arizona where they belonged.

  “We passed a mall a ways back. I’m goin’ to have a look.”

  Randy popped from the vehicle and said, “What about Matty and Jon?”

  “They’ll be fine. Just stay in the truck, I won’t be long.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “You kids are all the same.” Ranger uttered under his breath. He needed time alone and hadn’t had any since leaving Temple City. Instead of yelling at Randy, he thought he’d try another tactic. “If you leave, and Matty and Jon come back, no one will be here to greet them. You can come, but how safe will they be without anyone’s help?”

  Randy’s shoulders sank. He didn’t like the idea of remaining in the truck all alone so Ranger could explore by himself. Then again, Ranger did have a point, since no one would otherwise have stayed with the truck. He said, “Fine, I’ll stay.”

  “Good. I’ll be back soon. Trust me.”

  * * *

  Between George H Hansen Peak and Thomas Range HP, ten miles north of Weis Highway, one after another, a dozen military trucks passed through the desert gates of Logan Airbase. The barracks sat ready to receive their new guests. Sharpshooters stationed in the towers controlled the four corners of the camp. Guards patrolled the inside and outside perimeter of the fence. Should anyone have attempted to escape, bullets would have made the perfect greeting.

  When the convoy stopped in the middle of the base, Military Police spilled from the transport trucks’ cabs to the ground amidst the spewing dust brought on by the braking wheels. Dressed in desert fatigues, the MPs carried SCAR assault weapons, perfect instruments to deliver death to their intended targets. The MPs’ strut came off as if they owned the place. No doubt, if met with resistance, they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. These soldiers have seen things, and the disturbing looks on their faces proved no one was safe in their presence.

  As they made their way to the back of the trucks, a general, a five-star general no less, stepped from his office and strode to the edge of the deck where he inspected the new arrivals. He wore mirrored sunglasses to shield his eyes from the tower’s bright lights. His beret fit tightly around his shaved head. Unlike his soldiers, whose uniforms appeared worn and dust-filled, his attire fit snuggly and fell neatly on his body, as if the starch hadn’t lost any of its strength. On the right side of his hip, he wore a gun accessible with a quick pull, should he have needed to blast anything that would have proven a t
hreat.

  The guards stationed outside his office, one on either side of the door, saluted him. He returned the salute and proceeded to cross his arms.

  When the MPs unlocked the hatches to the trucks, they pointed their guns at the prisoners within, a universal gesture to haul ass from the vehicles. Each truck carried fifty people. With a dozen trucks that had entered the compound, that made it six hundred people flowing from the rears of the transports. The families stayed together, nudging their way with the bags they had carried for the trip. Husbands held their mates and children tight under their arms. Some families, eight children or more held hands, not letting go for fear of losing one another in the crowd.

  The soldiers’ first lesson came with the crack of a rifle butt on a man’s head. He thought he could skirt around security to retrieve his dog that had run away. The second lesson came when that same soldier, a sergeant, the stripes on his arm gave away his rank, pointed his rifle at the dog and pulled the trigger. The prisoner fell back in line. No pets allowed.

  Orders passed between soldiers and guests to leave all baggage on the trucks. After the killing of the dog, no one argued. One little girl cried, though, and told her mother she had left her favorite doll in her bag. The sergeant shook his head, pointing his rifle at the mother who thought she could remove the doll from the bag without anyone noticing. She left it behind and fell back in line like everyone else.

  The buck sergeant, a fit officer wearing week-old stubble and an attitude, barked at the other soldiers to gather the prisoners as he marched away to have a word with the general. The military needed disciplined officers like the sergeant to keep army personnel in check.

  The sergeant stopped a few feet from the general. A salute hit his head and the general acknowledged without removing his shades.

  “Well?” The general asked.

  “We don’t know yet, sir.” The sergeant answered resting his body at ease.

  “He’s got to be someplace. You’ve searched the towns?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What about the jails?”

  “The last we heard, we had picked him up and sent him to Worship Square.”

  “Idiots. We had him. Three times we had him and he escaped. What do I have to do, firebomb the entire state?” he asked, then allowed silence to linger for several seconds.

  “General Grayson, Sir. If I may?”

  “What’s on your mind, Baskins?”

  “Send me to find him, Sir. I’ll guarantee I’ll bring him back alive. There’s no way he could have gone far.”

  General Grayson smiled, then said. “Guarantee? What sort of guarantee?”

  Sergeant Baskins gazed at the general not knowing what else to say, “Sir?”

  “You said guarantee. Are you telling me if you don’t find him I can throw you in with the rest of the prisoners?”

  For a moment, Sergeant Baskins’ gaze broke from the general, “Sir. If I don’t find him within the next seventy-two hours, I’ll personally hand you my stripes.”

  The General rubbed his chin, but couldn’t help but smile at his own joke. “Listen to me, Baskins, if we don’t have him in our hands in the next seventy-two hours, I might as well join you.”

  “Sir.”

  “I know he had something to do with that Worship Square bombing. We can’t have him running around this great nation of ours blowing things up. It’s un-American.” The general stepped from the deck in a slow, tempered rhythm, then faced Baskins. “Bring him back to me alive. We can’t afford another body bag. He’s the weak link to our entire operation. If the Resistance gets a hold of him, there’s no telling what they’re capable of. I want him in my hands in the next seventy-two hours.”

  The Sergeant kept staring straight ahead without flinching.

  “Otherwise, it’ll be your ass in that crowd behind you.”

  “Yes, Sir!” Sergeant Baskins saluted the general.

  * * *

  A block from Perry Park, where Ranger had left Randy in the SUV, Matty led Jon, Eddie, Trish and Charlie through the alleys of downtown Provo. The familiar sound of a locomotive burned in their ears. Although not a train, Matty knew the sound so well from previous encounters that it had stopped them from going forward. Her breath sped faster. She instructed everyone to hug the walls, not wanting to make a mistake by standing around in the open.

  Matty pressed Jon backward into another alley. Everyone else followed, thinking she knew where she was going. To some extent, if instinct had anything to do with it, she did. They jogged a narrow path to the end of the block, then turned left where again they trotted until Matty found a set of stairs with a door. Holding the railing, she sprinted ten steps to the bottom, flung the door open, then flicked on the light. When they had all piled inside, she locked and barred the door with a large concrete block, which Jon helped move.

  The room had a gas stove, a table and chairs, a single bed in the corner and no visible entry except for the door they came through. A small lamp in the corner of the room cast an amber glow on the occupants and created dark shadows that covered everything. Trish disappeared in a bathroom to the left. Jon pulled his deck of cards, made a comfortable seat against the far right wall and sat quietly, letting the cards amuse him.

  Charlie took a seat on the bed, raised his legs to his chest and scrunched into the corner where he wrapped his arms around his knees. He needed a place where nothing could touch him from the ills of the world shaped by those furry dog-like things he didn’t even know how to describe.

  “What was that sound?” Eddie shifted a chair and sat at the table. He placed his gun on top of it and leaned back.

  “That sound may be the last thing you’ll ever hear.” Matty unstrapped her knapsack and let it fall to her feet.

  Eddie ruffled his hair, then traced his fingers on his scalp, more as a nervous tick than to appear cool. “Look, Matty, I know you’ve been through worse, as you keep reminding me, but you have to tell us more. I can’t keep running away every time I hear something I don’t know what it is.”

  Matty nodded thinking he had the right to know the truth. Moving her knapsack aside, she wandered and stopped at the opposite side of the table from where Eddie sat. Her hands sunk in her pockets and her tousled red hair covered her face. “Do you believe in aliens?”

  Eddie laughed through his words, “Aliens? You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. I’m dead serious. Aliens. Do you believe in them?”

  “After that encounter with that creature, whatever it was, I’ll believe in anything.”

  “Good. That sound you heard? The one where it sounded like a locomotive was about to storm through the area? That was the sound of an alien ship. It was looking for us. Humans. We have something they want. Before we found each other in this godforsaken city, Jon and I saw one of these saucers in action. They look harmless, almost friendly. But once their lights turn on, they are what makes hell a better place to live.”

  Charlie began rocking back and forth on the bed, staring in one spot. He held his legs tight as if he would allow nothing to break through his fortress.

  “Listen, Matty,” Eddie leaned forward in his chair, then rose from his seat, leaving his gun on the table. “I appreciate you looking after us and all, but Trish and I have done well on our own without your help. If anything, we’ve gotten into more jams than I’d care to talk about after meeting you. Once Trish gets out of that bathroom, we’ll be on our way.”

  Matty brushed her hair from her face, then gazed at him and thought what an ignorant thing for him to have said. If he only knew, he would have begged to stay.

  And as perfect timing would have it, Trish came from the bathroom. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re leaving.” Eddie grabbed his gun and slipped it into his pants.

  “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.” Matty moved to the center of the room.

  Eddie leaned on the table, crossed his legs at the ankles and his arms around his chest. Then, h
e smiled as if he said he didn’t care what Matty thought, he had made the decision and that was that.

  Matty would try one last time to convince them to stay. “I’ve never told you where the zombies come from.”

  “Right, you did say you knew how the zombies came to be.”

  Trish glared at Matty. She never did like her, even while Matty did everything to help Eddie and her escape.

  “Remember how I found you?” Matty asked.

  Not a word came from either of them.

  “I found you both cowering in the corner of a room, in a basement apartment, much like this one, praying those creatures wouldn’t find you.”

  “We were praying for a miracle.”

  “I know. Remember what happened next?”

  Again, neither one of them said a word.

  “Three eaters had torn through the windows of that apartment, crawling through the panes and dropping in front, ready to make you their midnight snack. I couldn’t stand seeing you have guests unannounced. I took it as disrespectful behavior.”

  “I know what you’re going to say next.” Trish said, grabbing a hold of Eddie’s arm.

  “And what’s that.”

  “We didn’t ask for help. You came in, and for all we know you led the chewers to our place.”

  Matty shook her head in disgust. “You know, you’re one of the most ungrateful people I’ve ever met.”

  Unwinding her arm from Eddie, Trish stepped forward with two closed fists.

  That didn’t bother Matty. She stood firm and stared wanting to deliver a message that no matter what Trish thought about what had happened Matty had saved both their asses from extinction.

  Although Trish never saw it that way, she tore her eyes from Matty and backed off. Even Eddie sensed Matty’s unwillingness to compromise when threatened. It led him to pull Trish by the arm and head back to the door from where they came. He announced in a voice becoming of a president, “We are now leaving.”

  “If you leave,” Matty said, “You’ll never come back. At least, not alive anyway.”

  Before Eddie could place his hand on the doorknob, Trish turned to Matty and scanned her from head to toe. She wanted to make sure Matty understood the words specifically tempered for her. “Eddie’s parents took me in as part of their family. I had lost my parents in a house fire that destroyed everything I owned and everything I cherished. It didn’t bother Eddie’s parents I wasn’t like them. I went to church with them every Sunday and I tried to fit in. It took a long time before I felt accepted, but still, no matter how hard I tried, I was always the black sheep. Not to Eddie, though. He didn’t think of me as his adopted sister, but he thought of me as his friend. When it was time for me to decide what I wanted to do with my life, Eddie stood by me. Even though it might have caused him trouble with his friends and relatives, he didn’t abandon me.”

 

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