Eschaton (The Scott Pfeiffer Story Book 1)

by Shane Woods

  Katie, then Willy, both complied.

  Only the new arrivals remained. Still in their own group and mostly looking quite unsure of themselves as to what to do. Then, surprisingly, one of them stepped forward. A heavier-built man nearly my age, with a scruffy dark beard and a black ballcap displaying the American flag pulled low over his eyes. He wore a large chrome revolver on an open hip holster. If I was the least bit sure that this was the aforementioned country boy, the bottle in his hand half full of tobacco spit erased all doubt.

  “Cody,” the man stated, his voice much smoother and more casual than I’d expected. “Cody Freeze.”

  “Freeze?” I asked. “Is that your real name, or your rap name?”

  “I definitely don’t rap,” he replied flatly.

  “Well,” I began in earnest, “Welcome, and, thanks, Cody.”

  As if he spoke for the rest, the other adults in their group raised their hands as well.

  “Full community of volunteers,” I observed, astonished. “Okay. We’ll see what intel and supplies James brings us. He was to watch their camp for 48 hours, then scout the military supplies. We’ll see what he gives us in the morning and go from there. I’ll keep you all in the loop. Everyone is dismissed. Have a good night.”

  We spent the next thirty minutes or so saying our goodnights as people departed the rooftop. We also addressed and did our best to soothe concerns.

  Cody began to walk past, and I called over to him.

  “What’s that you got on your hip?” I asked.

  “Smith and Wesson 500,” he stated and grinned broadly.

  “Biggest handgun in the world, isn’t it?” I inquired, to which he grinned even bigger, tipped his ballcap, and went to find an empty room to call his own. I liked the guy a little already.

  The roof had cleared, even my own friends, leaving Jennifer and Gwen.

  “Why don’t you two go get some rest,” I offered. “I’m going to grab some glasses and a bottle of CC and head down to see Henry, probably going to spend the night down there.”

  We said our goodnights and loves, and they left as well.

  I stopped by the supply floor and grabbed a brand new fifth of Canadian Club blended whiskey and headed down to Henry.

  ***

  I reached medical and found only Shannon still on duty after the meeting. With a few words, she retrieved a pile of blankets and a pillow from one of many closets and handed them to me before going back to the triage journal she’d been reading.

  I reached the end of the hallway and spread my bedding out. I was not going to leave Henry’s side this night, even if there was a steel door between us. I’d known the guy for years, and never had a word of bad to say about him.

  “You there?” I asked as I slid the homemade meal slot on his door open. “Brought some of your good ol’ CC, dude. Here.”

  I poured a healthy glass of the liquor and set it on the ledge.

  “Thank you, brother,” he replied, almost inaudibly, and took the glass. I poured a second, for myself, and settled in.

  We spent what felt like an eternity sharing the whiskey like that. I finally got him talking, though not nearly as animated as he used to be. We talked of all of our past stories between us. We spoke of people we both knew, things we’d both been through, anything and everything. I still to this day could not tell you if we were merely chatting as old friends or catching up to possibly say goodbye forever.

  Whatever the case, before the night drifted too far, the bottle was empty. Our words were slurred and heavy. In my candlelight, I could make out the visage of my friend. First, he merely sat near the door. Then he slumped, deeper and deeper, until finally, I heard snoring. I took this as my cue and lay my head on my pillow in my makeshift bed.

  Before I could recall taking another breath, I was fast asleep.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  I woke to a gentle shaking sensation. It was Shannon, and she had me by the shoulder.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “Didn’t want to startle you. I just need you to roll over that way, so we can get into Henry’s room.”

  “What?” I asked, shaking my head and rubbing sleep from my eyes. “Is he okay? What’s happening?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she reassured. “I’ve just got to get in to check his vitals.”

  I noticed Dave standing next to her, his AK-47 at the ready, cradled in one arm, a key in the other hand. He was covered with strange lumps that I couldn’t quite make out at first.

  “Mornin’, sweetheart!” he said cheerily.

  “Are those…pillows? Strapped all over you?” I asked, slightly amused, and sitting up I continued, “You look ridiculous. You here to cuddle?”

  “Best we could do at short notice,” Dave informed me solemnly. “In case he’s more hungry than usual.”

  Shannon touched Dave’s arm, and he put the key to the door. He turned the lock over and shoved the door. Hard. Shit, I didn’t warn them that Henry might still be slumped up against it.

  “Hey hey HEY! Ow!” I heard Henry’s voice bellow. “What the fuck are y’all doing here?”

  “You hungry?” Dave asked casually. “Wanna take a bite off my ass, big boy?”

  “I’ma take a bite of something, damn you!” Henry shouted. “No I’m not hungry. I’m old. I’m hungover. And you doin’ way too much, brother Dave. Too much, Lord Lord.”

  I gathered myself and started to depart as they began questioning Henry. He was reassuring them his headache was from last night’s liquor. He’s fine, he said. Shannon began checking his vitals. Dave asked where they were planning to put the thermometer, which sparked more yelling and vulgarity from Henry.

  I decided to skip heading upstairs. If Jennifer and Gwen were asleep, I intended to leave them there as long as possible. I’m sure they needed it.

  Instead, I made my way out the front of the building and into the morning. It was overcast, and threatened rain, but the heat of the waning summertime still held. The air was somewhat thick with humidity.

  The carnage from the night before was still evident. I began rounding people up who milled about nearby and directing them. With Henry down, it looked like the work project would be up to me to direct.

  “Get these infected in a truck and take them to the dump site,” I instructed and watched as people began wrapping their faces with rags. The dead didn’t even stink much yet. Why the need for cowboy bandanas? I inquired as much and was met with a basic response.

  “These don’t stink much,” Willy offered, “but the ones on the highway where we dump them? They’re getting bad. You can smell them from here when the wind blows right.”

  “We’ll get a burn going then,” I concluded. “One of these days when the wind will take the smoke away from us. For now, do the best y’all can.”

  He complied, as did everyone else, and in short order, they had the dead in the back of one of our new dump trucks. It was interesting to watch the work. The backhoe, being the more mobile of our two equipment pieces, was brought out. The bucket was then stuffed with as many dead infected as they could, then elevated to be dumped carelessly into the back of the truck.

  It wasn’t so much a recognition of the loss of humanity in the infected, nor was it a telling of the hardening of our people. It was just work. Something else to do or clean up, and they treated it as such.

  Before long, the truck was departing for the overpass, and Jennifer had approached me. Sleep still clouded her face, but she had a fresh cup of coffee in hand. Thick, black, and bitter just the way I preferred. But, this time, it had a little extra to it.

  “It’s hot,” I observed, turning to her. “Hot coffee? We have hot coffee?”

  “We plugged a pot into the command center,” she smiled, handing me a thermos full of the beverage. “Just, don’t tell James.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled in return and kissed her on the forehead. Then, I turned to the rest of the people in the area.

  “Get everyone gathered up, I want full work
crews on deck in fifteen!” I barked. “Henry’s down, but we got shit to do, people! Rich!!!”

  “Yeah man,” he appeared behind me, startling me. “What’s up?”

  “Fucker,” I murmured, gaining his grin in response to my startle. “Grab two people. I want your armory idea at fifty percent by tonight or we’re scrapping it.”

  “Oh, trust me, we got this!” Rich replied, still grinning, then departing to begin work.

  “Come on Dave,” I called over just as he appeared from the front of the building. “Let’s go, cuddles!”

  Dave met me on the way to a Smart Car, and we loaded up and departed for a few blocks away to the worksite, Katie opening the gate for us to pass.

  “You know Henry usually runs a morning dinner bell, right?” Dave reminded me.

  “Don’t think there’s any left, man,” I replied, as I eyeballed the puddles of congealed blood we passed. “Least not this morning. How is the old man anyway?”

  “Shannon says he’s not infected,” he replied, shrugging. “I don’t fuckin’ know, dude. He seems okay. She wants to keep an eye on him though.”

  “I think he’ll be alright,” I confirmed. “Why don’t you think it got him?”

  “Hard to say,” Dave replied. “Not really my area of expertise, anyway.”

  We pulled up to the work zone and I got out of the Smart Car and immediately into the excavator. It couldn’t be that hard, right? Everyone else had been operating it. I should be able to as well.

  I couldn’t. At least, not at first. I got the machine started, and with the first pull of the lever, the machine swung about, just missing Dave, and burying its bucket into the side of the car I’d just departed.

  I shut the machine off and left the cab.

  “Well then,” I spoke to nobody. I tried wiping my hands off nonchalantly and acting casual. Dave had streams of tears from laughter as he doubled over.

  Just then, Rob appeared with the backhoe, pulling it to a stop and shutting the machine off.

  “What the hell happened here?” he said, eying the scene, then Dave, and finally me.

  “I fucking hate Smart Cars,” I grunted, then, “Okay, you’re on the excavator, let’s get moving.”

  Chuckling to himself, Rob climbed aboard and flawlessly removed the bucket from the small vehicle and positioned the machine to dig.

  Before much longer, we had a full operation going despite Henry’s absence. Everyone filled their own roles just as they’d been doing for so long under his lead.

  We were steadily pulling up sections of earth and building sections of wall and barrier. Everything was going well when I heard the grinding of metal, and the crack of something as it gave way.

  “Whoa guys, hold up!” I called, eyeing the long section of piping that protruded from the newly dug section of ground.

  “Just a gas line, boss,” Rob called down from his machine.

  “Just gas line?” I asked, a bit cross in my tone.

  “Nothing left to it,” he explained. “Utilities long been shut off, no danger in an empty line.”

  I grudgingly, though carefully, watched as he used the machine to pick the busted section of gas pipe out and got back to his work. Okay then, I guess he’s right.

  Work kept trudging along when I noticed movement to our southwest. It was one of our trucks I had recognized first, a red pickup, as it came around one corner and made its way toward our gate. Following this was a sight to behold.

  Even at this distance, I could make out a white Peterbilt pulling a long tanker trailer. To the outside of each were strapped many, many things I could not discern at this distance. It swung wide around the turn and kicked its burners on, belching black smoke and rolling faster toward our main gate. Following it, a dark blue Smart Car, one of ours, that made its way in the truck’s wake.

  I started walking toward our own little car before recalling the earlier incident. Dave and I instead loaded up in a nearby Ford Ranger and, after instructing the others to keep working, we headed to meet James and his crew.

  ***

  We arrived at the gate just in time to follow the last vehicle in.

  Pleasantries were exchanged, James and the three that went with him were filthy, tired, and looked like they’d been rolling around in pig slop, but they were all intact and unharmed. Thank God.

  “Got your diesel!” James exclaimed proudly, “And a whole lot more goodies. More than we expected to find, in all honesty.”

  James cut me off from replying as he swung open the passenger door of the truck and reached up into the cab, withdrawing a large black gun. It was an M240E1, a belt-fed machine gun used by the military. It even still had the ammunition belt locked into place, though the top cover was crushed.

  “Doesn’t fire, but I thought we could maybe figure it out and get it working with time,” James offered.

  “I’ll get right on that!” Rich, coming up to take possession of the weapon, his eyes glowing with excitement. “Shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

  “Maybe have Tony give you a hand with it,” I opined. “We could definitely find a place for it if it’ll work.”

  Tony appeared, as if sensing his name being mentioned, and he and Rich disappeared with the gun before I could add anything else to the conversation.

  “Tons of ammo for it, too,” James continued. “Actually, we found lots of various ammo and things the military had left behind. Lot of it got blown clean off the bridge, we had to get crafty to retrieve it from the tree branches below and stuff. Lot of fun, that was.”

  “What’s this?” I inquired, motioning to a series of tubes sticking out from under the tarp covering the bed of the pickup truck.

  “Mortars,” James said, smiling broadly. “They only had illumination rounds, but again, it was there, I figured we could use them.”

  “Lucky Rich and Tony didn’t see those first,” I chuckled. “What else we got?”

  “Tanker’s full,” James continued. “It’s diesel. We cleared out a couple of auto parts store, every drop of any kind of fluid they had. Batteries, big and small. Military left a lot of radio gear that didn’t get pillaged, and we salvaged every piece of combat gear or supply we could find.”

  “Any vehicles left behind?” I inquired.

  “Nah, anything that would have been salvageable was destroyed from inside,” he admitted. “Clara said it’s SOP for the military to not leave vehicles behind intact. Don’t want them in the wrong hands type of thing, I guess.”

  “You’ve done very well, James,” I congratulated. “I’m impressed, and we’re all proud of you four.”

  “Thanks,” James replied, then his expression darkened deeply. “The, uh, the guys at the school. Real bad dudes, man. I want to get rid of them. We all do.”

  “Oh, brother, you have no idea,” I assured. “They brought Chris back to us. And a whole swarm of infected. First things first though, let’s get Bri down here with her notepad.”

  I motioned to the freshly dug dirt nearby, topped with a rudimentary wooden cross with Chris’ name painted on it. James muttered a curse and began helping to unload the trucks and line things up for cataloguing.

  I raised Bri on the radio and she came down and began happily attending to her duty of documenting and directing all the supplies. There even turned out to be several boxes of toys and school supplies on the roof of the smart car, held down by scavenged ratchet straps from the parts stores.

  I walked over to Rich’s pool. They’d had it completely drained, and, I was informed, the drain valve was wedged open to keep it from building up water.

  Rich had already constructed three of four walls, standard-issue studs and plywood packed with anything he could find to insulate it. He also had what appeared to be a slightly raised floor, also joisted and laid in with heavy plywood. He told me it bought a little elevation from the pool floor, there’d always be some standing water, and this kept things dry.

  “Going to move my things out here, too,” he told
me. “That way, there’s always somebody to keep an eye on things.”

  “What about your wife?” I asked. “She moving in, too?”

  “Carolyn?” he asked. “Nah, she doesn’t want to sleep near anything that goes boom. Scares her. It’ll be okay.”

  “You’re doing good, man,” I said, reassuringly.

  “Thanks,” he accepted. “Going to section it off before the roof is put on. Building a chain link wall and a counter at the front, with a door, I want to make it function as a regular armory window.”

  “Nice. Nice,” I stated.

  We continued talking about his plans for a moment, and when James was ready, we left Rich to his own devices and made our way up to the command floor. I radioed for Tony, Dave, Jennifer, and a few others to come join us so we could go over James’ recon, and begin a plan.

  ***

  “We’ve got it all,” James began, “but our files aren’t tidy. Let’s see what’s on this one.”

  He placed a memory card from one camera in the reader, made a few clicks of the mouse, and in an instant, one of the security monitor screens minimized and we were greeted with a full color video of downtown Akron, as seen from the main bridge from the north leading over the valley.

  “Oh, shit, yeah,” James exclaimed, “you need to see this. The way the infected are acting. It’s, it’s just weird, man.”

  We all became silent and watched intently.

  The scene was clearly from a shaky digital camera, but it showed what we needed to see very clearly. Downtown appeared as completely wrecked as any warzone images I’d ever seen.

  From the firebombing early on in the end of things, the buildings were all scorched as far up as several floors. Windows were blown in, and even on floors above the primary burn line there were black streaks reaching up like fingers from many windows.

  Vehicles left in the roadway were little more than burnt-out hulks of what they’d used to be. Smaller piles of debris, and what I’d assumed to be long dead infected, littered the streets and sidewalks. Street lamps were blown out and bent at odd angles, and the road surface itself had even appeared to crack and been bubbled in weird ways.