The Eliminators | Volume 3

by Druga, Jacqueline

  Insanity.

  She was able to get ahold of Liz who put a call into Sheriff Norton, a longtime resident of Charleston who now ran the corrections division.

  There were eight prisoners in all, so Rachel figured he was pretty excited to get another.

  A corrections office was on duty, he was pretty laid back and when Rachel told him who she was there about, he laughed.

  “Oh the guy that keeps bitching about his patent being stolen? And that’s the reason he’s here?”

  “That’s the one,” Rachel said.

  “You would think he has bigger fish to fry.” The officer said. “He shot a dog.”

  “He nipped a dog.”

  “Same difference.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “The dog was going after an infected.”

  “See that’s where you’re wrong,” Rachel said, “Fred was tested for immunities. We all are as Eliminators, so your dogs were wrong.”

  “Not my dogs, I don’t give a shit.”

  “Good. So when does Sheriff Norton get back?” Rachel asked.

  “Soon. He just went to Starbucks. Did you want to see your friend?”

  “Am I allowed?”

  He shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know. No one ever comes to see these guys.” He reached to a control panel on the counter before him. The door buzzed. “Last cell on the right. I’ll let the Sheriff know you’re here when he gets back.”

  “Thanks.”

  Rachel opened the door and walked to the back.

  She walked by the first cell, the inmate stood up, but said nothing. She kept a steady pace, hoping the men and from what she saw, one woman, wouldn’t do that holler out, cat call thing she saw in movies.

  It was a long hallway. Lots of old fashioned cells. The inmates were spaced out. She just wanted to get to Yates.

  “Hey, Yo, babe,” called the deep, booming male voice.

  Rachel stopped and looked. “Babe?”

  “Sorry, Eliminator chick.”

  “Chick?”

  The man in the cell emerged forward. “Woman?”

  “Oh my God.”

  He grabbed onto the bars. He was big, really big with long dark hair. His arms were heavily tattooed and muscular. He looked as if he could have been a biker at one time. He just looked rough. “Hey, I’m an Eliminator, too.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “No, I am, see?” He wore overalls that were down to his waist and tied with his sleeves. He lifted one of the sleeves to show an E.

  “Rachel?” Yates called out.

  “Excuse me.” She held up a finger to him.

  “No!” he yelled. “Get me out of here.”

  She took a few steps and stopped. “Why exactly are you in here?”

  “Rachel,” Yates called out. “You aren’t gonna believe anything he says, are you?”

  “Shh,” Rachel told Yates.

  “I put down a FUD.”

  “I’m sorry a what?”

  “Fud. Fucked up Dead thing. Sorry,” he said. “My name for them.”

  “A stiff?”

  He laughed. “Oh my God such a Disney name for them.”

  “Yeah, well, we’re not all R rated.”

  “Rach, stop talking to Lunk,” Yates hollered.

  “I’ll be right there,” Rachel said. “So, tell me Lunk.”

  “That’s not my name.”

  “I don’t care. Why, if you put down a stiff, are you in here? If you’re an Eliminator, that’s what we do.”

  “I know. Exactly, right?” he said. “It’s illegal in Center City.”

  “It’s illegal to put down the dead?” Rachel asked.

  “Yeah, you have to incapacitate them and take them to the Peace Center.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “I know, right?” he said. “We Eliminate. That’s our job. I came here for R and R and think I’m doing good. I get arrested. Nice hair.”

  “Thanks. What happened to your team?”

  “I was supposed to get reassigned. We got hit pretty bad by marauders. Two of us were left. He decided to quit.”

  “Team name?” Rachel asked.

  “Guerillas,” he replied. “Not gorillas as in,” he proceeded to imitate an ape, complete with sounds. “Guerrillas as in …”

  “I get it.”

  “Rach,” Yates yelled out. “Can you please stop talking to him?”

  “Well, it was nice meeting you Mr. Lunk.”

  He laughed, “That’s not my name.”

  “I’ll stick with knowing you as Lunk,” Rachel walked away and to Yates.

  “Hello.” Yates said, holding on to the bars. “Please tell me you’re here to get me out.”

  “I’m here to try.”

  “Oh!” Lunk hollered. “Can you get me out, too?”

  Yates replied. “No! Shut up.” He exhaled. “How’s the dog, Rach?”

  “Fine. It was just a scratch. The bullet only grazed him.”

  “Oh man!” shouted Lunk. “You shot a dog. That’s so wrong.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Yates told him. “Good thing you’re in there or I’d put you down.”

  “It’s not easy,” he replied.

  Rachel snickered.

  “It’s not funny,” Yates said. “He’s driving me nuts.”

  “Yates, you’ve been in here like an hour.”

  “It seems like a lifetime.”

  Rachel turned when she heard the door open from down the hall. The Sheriff walked in. He wore a cowboy hat, blue jeans and a blue tee shirt, all while sipping a pink Starbucks. He wasn’t old, not at all, and not anything like she depicted.

  “Rachel?” the Sheriff approached.

  “I am.”

  “Are you the Flaming Saffron Commander?” he asked.

  “Acting Commander. Our commander is temporarily incapacitated right now.”

  “I see. What can I do for you?”

  “I need him out.” Rachel pointed to Yates.

  “He shot a dog.”

  “He nipped a dog,” Rachel corrected.

  “Only because he missed.”

  Rachel stifled a laugh. “No. If he wanted to kill the dog he would have. Trust me. It’s what we do. Hit moving targets dead on. No pun intended.”

  “Still, he willfully shot at an animal. A government animal.”

  “I get that,” Rachel said. “I really do. But … wow.” She tilted her head. “Do you work out?”

  “Rach,” Yates scolded “Are you flirting? Why would you flirt? That’s not you.”

  “She’s flirting?” Lunk asked. “I thought she was gay with that hair.”

  “We all did.” Yates said.

  “Will you stop!” Rachel blasted at Yates, then spun nicely to the Sheriff Norton. “So as I was saying …”

  “As nice as the compliment is,” Norton said, “Yes, I do work out. The flirting won’t work.”

  “Married?” Rachel asked.

  “Yes and gay.”

  “Oh, okay, anyhow,” Rachel said. “I need him out. Yes, it may have seemed intentional, but as you know we are Eliminators. And right now, he suffers from PZSD.”

  “Don’t we all.”

  “Well, you know, Eliminators more than anyone,” Rachel said. “Plus, him and I not that long ago, we were taken prisoners by these marauders. Taken hostage, put in a gladiator style fight and made to fight against growlers. Do you know what growlers are?”

  Norton nodded. “I have never seen them, but I have heard.”

  “Yeah, well, five of them.”

  “Whoa.” Lunk commented “Did you win?’

  “Obviously, you idiot,” Yates shouted.

  Rachel waved her hand out to Yates to shush. “So you see Sheriff, we just came off of that, not even two months ago and I think he saw that dog, heard the growl and just … went into defensive mode.”

  “Makes sense.’

  “Yes. So can you let him go. I really need him. “

  “Okay.” N
orton shrugged and walked by her to Yates’ cell.

  “Just like that?” Rachel asked. “Really?”

  “Yeah, I hate those virus dogs. They get things wrong all the time. I can’t tell you how many non-infected people they have bitten.” He slid a card down a card lock and opened Yates’ cell. “You’re free to go.”

  “So no judge? No hearing?” Yates asked.

  “I’m the judge until that gets sorted out. Go. Good luck in whatever you do.”

  “Thank you,” said Yates.

  “And uh … thank you guys for what you do.”

  Rachel nodded and walked with Yates.

  “What about me?” Lunk asked as they walked by.

  “You’re on our own,” Yates told him. “Bye, nice being your cell mate.”

  They got to the end of the hall and Yates opened the door for Rachel. “That was easier than I thought.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “What now?” Yates asked.

  “Fred. We need to find out what’s going on with Fred.”

  “It has to be a mistake,” Yates said. “It happens a lot according to the Sheriff.”

  “That is exactly what I am thinking. Fred’s an eliminator, he’s been tested for immunity,” Rachel said. “It has to be wrong.”

  For as normal and pre-virus the world of Charleston appeared, there was something odd about it. Maybe it was just the fact that it still existed as an organized civilization in a world that was torn apart by the undead. People moved about, walking, talking, working jobs.

  She could see them in diners and cafés, laughing and eating as if nothing ever happened.

  Granted it had been a year, but surely they carried emotional scars. Everyone lost someone.

  From the high tech science labs of Dr. Stevens to the grand opening of the second Starbucks, it just didn’t make sense.

  Something was off.

  There were rules and regulations that were just odd for the times, like it was illegal to kill a zombie. That was assuming that Lunk was telling the truth.

  Rachel guessed there were more of those strange laws than she cared to know about.

  They had spent two weeks in Center City before heading off to ‘save’ the missing Eliminator teams. Rachel was so wrapped up in Kasper, she didn’t pay any attention to Charleston, except of course, the Starbucks.

  It wasn’t easy finding out what they did with Fred. At first, she feared they had killed him, then she remembered Lunk was in jail for taking out a zombie. If that were true, then there was no way they killed Fred based on a bad nose by a temperamental dog.

  They went back to the check point and had no luck, Rachel even thought about Barry and checking on him when they passed the hospital where she knew he was, but she decided to find Fred. She was sure Barry was in good hands … Fred, not so much. So they returned to Sheriff Norton. He told them exactly where to go.

  Those infected or suspected of being infected were taken to the former Memorial Hospital which was located on the other side of the river.

  The bridge with the first check was one of the only unblocked ways into the town. The rest of the roads and bridges were heavily guarded and with good cause.

  Memorial Hospital was located in a not so protected part of town, a part not really considered ‘Center City’

  It was complicated and too much bureaucracy for a post-apocalyptic zombie world.

  She had to get passage papers from Command that allowed for her and Yates to cross the bridge and into that section of town. Papers that stated they knew the dangers and were able to handle them.

  A huge fenced in barricade closed off the bridge with a single thick gate door to pass through. It slid open wide enough for a vehicle, but Rachel and Yates were on foot.

  It wasn’t that far to walk.

  They were asked twice if they were sure they wanted to go through and were aware of the dangers both physically and psychologically.

  To Rachel it was a joke to even ask that. They were Eliminators, they had seen it all.

  But one thing Rachel didn’t see was the downfall of society.

  How the virus swept the globe. She saw it happen in a remote Bahama resort. She had been to major cities after sweep teams, but crossing that bridge brought her face to face with the reality with what happened.

  Charleston was a small city, she could only imagine what the bigger ones looked like before clean up.

  Crossing that bridge took them to a part of Charleston that didn’t get swept by a sweep team, an area that wasn’t cleaned up.

  A war broke out there between the dead and the living.

  There weren’t any stiffs roaming about, none that she could see. Those she and Yates could handle. And Rachel was pretty sure, with the warnings they were there.

  They came across the thirty-fifth street bridge and could see the six story hospital set two blocks away.

  From where she stood, even at a distance, the top floor was charred with broken windows.

  In fact, every building in the area had broken windows.

  Blood stained the streets, wrapped bodies still in bags and blankets, long since passed the stage of odorous decomposition.

  But the carefully wrapped bodies, set out were not the only bodies they saw. Remains scattered about, some skeletal and older while others seemed fresh.

  There was a Kentucky Fried Chicken there and from the front window hung a body. Trash and debris scattered everywhere.

  As an Eliminator, Rachel was used to going into barren areas. Places where the dead owned the streets, but they were also places where remnants of a human versus zombie battle had all been erased. She was seeing it for the first time.

  Instead of being scared, or being sad, it stirred something in Rachel.

  She needed to see more. There were so many places in the United States the sweep teams hadn’t touched, those were the areas the Eliminators needed to go to. Not safe zones set up for execution teams to slip in.

  Rachel wondered how many towns and cities were like that small pocket of Charleston. How many still not only housed the dead but the living fighting to survive?

  If those who guarded the bridge expected Rachel and Yates to be negatively affected by what they saw, then those who guarded the bridge hadn’t been out in the world.

  The walked the two blocks to the hospital grounds.

  White FEMA tents were erected everywhere in the parking lots. But they weren’t in use. Most of them sustained damage. No one walked around, they saw not one human being until they approached the front doors.

  The entire first floor was boarded up for safety and four armed guards stood out front with two dogs.

  Walking to the guarded area, she saw a truck and two men carrying a body to it.

  The dogs didn’t bark, one put its nose to Yates’ leg as they were let through.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” Rachel told him.

  “Thanks for getting me out of jail. And for what it’s worth … the flirting worked.”

  They entered into the former hospital’s lobby area, the furniture had been cleared out, except for the reception desk no one was at.

  There was a phone in plain sight with a note that instructed a person to ‘pick up the phone’.

  Yates walked up to it and lifted it. “It’s ringing,” he told Rachel. “Yes, hello. We’re here about an inmate … sorry, yes, patient. Fred.” He paused. “Fred … Fred …” He covered the receiver. “What’s Fred’s last name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Shit.” Yates then returned to his call. “I’m sure you don’t have many Fred’s. Oh, you have three, how odd. Must be because it’s West Virginia. His name is Fred, he was brought in just a little bit ago, he’s an Eliminator. We are part of his team, the Flaming Saffrons … Thank you.” He hung up.

  “What did they say?” Rachel asked.

  “Someone will be right out. He’s being processed.”

  A few minutes later, a man in a white lab jacket came out
of the door behind the desk. “I’m Doctor Jones, you must be the Flaming Saffrons?”

  “We are.” Rachel shook his hand, then Yates did.

  “Kasper’s friends,” Jones said.

  “You know Kasper?” Rachel asked.

  “I do. He’s a card. Come with me,” Jones instructed. “My office is right inside here.”

  He opened the door and led them down the hall.

  Yates leaned down to Rachel. “Is he speaking about Kasper before or after he turned dead-ish?”

  Rachel shrugged. “After, I hope.”

  Jones stepped in the second door on the right. “Have a seat.” He walked around the desk and sat down. “Now what can I help you with?”

  Rachel sat down at the same time as Yates. “What’s going on with Fred? Can we take him?”

  “As you know, you can’t. We cannot have the infected mixed in with the population. It’s too dangerous and we are having a hard enough time locating all those who have it. We’re trying to make Center City an infected free zone,” he explained. “Other cities and towns, not, but we can concentrate the manpower there. Charleston is too big. A lot of the residents, pre-virus, are still here. We can’t kick them out.”

  “I understand that,” Rachel said. “I know that. But there has to be a mistake.”

  “Sheriff Norton told us the dogs aren’t always right,” Yates said.

  “They’re not. That’s why the individual is brought here. We immediately test. If they test positive then we keep them, test them further, and relocate them to a town where they are set up to handle the turned. New laws by President Nazinski. We have a couple towns they are equipping with scanners taken from EPEV technology.”

  Yates huffed and looked at Rachel. “Another one of my patents.” He shook his head.

  “Oh, you’re Yates?” Jones asked. “Amazing humanitarian invention”

  “Thanks, but the EPEV is a weapon,” Yates said. “Just like those virus dogs are a danger. You have them around infected. They get infected, they turn like that …” he snapped his finger. “And watch out.”

  “Fortunately, we only have four,” Jones replied. “Well, three right now. Some one shot the fourth dog and he’s recovering.”

  “Bastard,” Yates said.