Rachel nodded. “Like the one in the people that can turn instantly.”
“Yes.” Stephanie looked at Kasper, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t beat your strain. I haven’t worked on that one. Just the organic one.”
“Speaking of which,” Yates said, “You’ve been working on the cure since when?”
“Actually, I have been working on the cure long before the general population knew about this virus. It was around nearly a year before it broke boundaries and got out of control,” Stephanie explained. “It was quite easy to contain until it mutated enough that people were asymptomatic and it spread like that.” She snapped her fingers.
Yates continued. “So you were working on the cure when all hell broke loose and you just so happened to be in this small town.”
“No, I was trying to make it to Chicago and I took refuge in the town,” Stephanie said. “They were battling the dead inside, but the gates were able to stop more from coming in. Trust me they didn’t take too kindly to strangers and wanted us out. The strangers did all the work, we farmed, we cleaned. The only reason they didn’t abuse me was because they knew I had the cure. I cured one of them to prove it.” She looked around. “He was symptomatic and he wasn’t after I gave him the injection.”
“How did they know?” Yates asked. “I mean if he was asymptomatic, how do they know you cured him?”
“I don’t know, they took my word for it,” Stephanie said. “Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a prisoner. I could leave at any time and good riddance they would think. I had no safe way to get across the country. The only way my cure was found out was a few of your men from St. Louis were headed toward a survivor camp. I gave them a copy of my data and the next thing I knew, someone was coming for me and anyone else that wanted to come along.”
“How did you work on the virus in that small town?” Yates sked. “I mean I would think it would take a lab.”
“It does,” Stephanie answered. “Surprisingly, there was a huge lab under the library. Clean, brilliant … illegal.”
“A meth lab?” Zeus asked.
“Actually, yes.”
“Oh yeah!” Zeus boasted. “See, I told you.”
“Are you kidding me?” Yates asked. “You’re really going to tell me that you used a meth lab to cure the virus and expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
Yates laughed, the smile instantly dropped from his face when the EPEV slowed down. “Hey Rigs? Something wrong?”
“Um … this is interesting,” Rigs replied.
His response caused everyone to rush to the front of the EPEV to look out the windshield.
They had moved off the main highway to a secondary route, at least for fifty miles, because outside of Indianapolis the stopped traffic on the highways due to an exodus was insane.
It didn’t hamper the phenomenal time they were making.
Such good time, they contemplated driving straight through.
But now they stopped.
Fields with high grass and unharvested crops lined both sides of the four lane road. A man stood on the side of the road, west bound lane. He moved backwards, staring at the field, appearing to not notice or not care about the EPEV a hundred feet away.
He wore dark pants, a blue, long sleeve shirt, suspenders and a hat.
“Well, there’s something you don’t see every day,” Yates said. “An Amish zombie.”
Zeus asked. “Would we call him an Ambie?"
“Wow,” Rachel added. “I never even thought about the Amish communities.”
“He’s breathtaking,” added Stephanie.
Everyone looked at her.
“Quick Yates,” Kasper said. “Shoot him. We know how fast you are to take down something that is dangerous and unseen.”
Rigs shook his head. “I don’t think he’s a zombie. I have never seen one walk backwards. He keeps looking at the field.” He looked over his shoulder when he heard the sound of one of his eliminators prepping a rifle. Yates had opened the door, assault rifle ready. “Yates, what the hell are you doing?”
“He may not be …” Yates said, “But that is.” He pointed as has stepped out.
A horse came from the fields, he moved toward the Amish man. The side of it clearly torn apart. The horse jerked its head left to right. The only thing that stopped the horse from charging the man was its bitten and gimp leg that kept giving away with every step it took.
“Yep,” Kasper commented. “There he goes, the Zombie animal slayer.”
Rigs was going to let Yates go and do his thing. He watched as Yates moved down the road, strutting with confident arrogance. Moving for a closer shot at the horse. The Amish man just stood there, waiting to be a victim, maybe his way of committing suicide.
That was when Rigs saw it. The high grass on the left side of the road, began to move quickly.
“Shit.” Rigs jumped up from his seat. “Everyone arm up. We’re under attack.”
Was the Amish man insane? Yates wondered. Just frozen there, waiting on that horse.
It amazed Yates that animals weren’t immune at all. Which in turn made him think of rats and how they probably were the culprits spreading it so fast.
He hated the thought of putting down the undead horse. He liked horses, unlike cats which were easier. Yates knew he had to get closer.
He lifted his rifle to get the animal in his scope as he moved even closer.
The Amish man backed up even more and for the first time looked at Yates.
“Go,” he said. “Go now.”
“Yates!” Rigs yelled. “Incoming! We need you to run the EPEV system.”
Yates heard his request then he heard something else. The rustling of grass and weeds and slowly he shifted his eyes to the field. He could see them emerging, fast and agile … the undead.
Another shift of his views, he saw his team. Rigs and Kasper on the road. Rachel and Zeus emerged on the roof of the EPEV.
He wanted to be part of the battle on the road, but knew he was the only one experienced enough to effectively take down a hoard.
He turned his sight to quickly take out the horse.
“Bezighouden!” shouted the Amish man as he lifted a sword hidden on his right side, raised it high and with a mighty, swift swing forward he beheaded the horse.
The head of the animal popped up and slammed to the ground as the first of the undead emerged from the fields and Yates shot him.
He had to make it back to the EPEV and quickly, Rigs was right, there were too many.
But it happened so fast.
Rigs shouted.
The Amish Man yelled and beheaded the undead horse … the first undead raced forward and just as Yates shot him a crowd of shouting voices came from behind.
Just as Yates turned to run back to the EPEV, from the fields on the opposite side of the road emerged a massive army of Amish, all armed with swords and other weapons.
“Dudes!” Kasper shouted it. “Yes!”
“Yates!” Rigs hollered again. “The EPEV.”
“Oh, hell no,” Yates replied. “I’m joining this fight.”
And he did. He stopped backing up and turned, weapon raised.
The Amish had become in their own way, an old school army like something from the medieval days. They moved skilled and ready, poised for battle.
So many of them.
They engaged with the undead without hesitation.
Yates only wished he had his sword on him, because they were slicing through heads, left and right.
In all his time on the road as an Eliminator, it was something he had never seen nor did he think he’d ever see, and Yates wasn’t going to miss the undead slaughter party.
He stayed on that road and fought right alongside them.
FIFTEEN – OVERPOWERED
Some place in Ohio
Kasper and Rachel giggled like teenagers, sitting in the control room of the EPEV watching the video replay of the battle.
“Wait,
wait, wait,” Kasper pointed. “Watch Yates face when he realizes the zeds are coming.”
Rachel laughed. “Then he smiles. He never smiles. I am so mad I was on the roof.”
“But dude, you got a front row seat.”
“I did. It was pretty awesome watching the Amish emerge from the fields.” Rachel turned quickly to the knocking.
Rigs stood in the open doorway. “You guys coming?” he asked. “The dead are cleared from the road and burning. Eli said they are setting the table for a meal. They’ve invited us to join them and stay if we need to.”
Rachel looked at Kasper. “Go ahead, I’m going to stay here with Kasper. They … they won’t accept him.”
“You’re wrong,” Rigs said. “Eli even asked about the ‘pale’ boy. He said to bring them.”
“They aren’t gonna slaughter me, are they?” Kasper asked.
“I won’t let them. But the food smells good. I mean … real good.”
“Okay.” Rachel stood. “We’ll go. Should we bring something?”
“Rach, this isn’t like a neighborhood dinner party,” Rigs laughed.
“It’s bad manners Rigs to go empty handed,” Rachel defended.
“I totally agree, Rach,” Kasper said. “Let’s look through the stash to see what we can bring.”
“What are you watching anyhow?” Rigs asked.
“Oh, the camera view of the road battle,” Kasper answered. “Dead to the left, Amish to the right and the Eliminators not looking anywhere as cool as the Amish.”
“I bet. I think I’ll watch it.” Rigs stepped forward. “I’m trying to get a hold of Command.” He took a seat.
“You haven’t yet?” Rachel asked. “You think something is wrong?”
Rigs shook his head. “No. It’s fine. Just a bad connection. I’ll get through. Eventually. After all,” he said. “What can be wrong in Center City?”
<><><><>
Century City – Resting Meadows
Sandy tried her hardest to hide the fact that the dinner was served with a silver tin cover. She wanted to cook for Barry, but everything was on lockdown and they couldn’t go out. He was going to complain. She left the covers in the hall then knocked once on Barry’s door before opening it.
“Room service,” she called out, pushing the cart in.
Barry stood at the window, balancing on a crutch.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked. “You are not supposed to have weight on that.”
“I don’t. I’m using a crutch and I’m trying to see what’s going on out there.”
“Well, you won’t see much. We’re off the main road.” Sandy put the plates on the table. “This is all the kitchen had. Staff is short.”
“Do we know how bad it is out there?” Barry asked, “Maybe we should go …”
“Barry. Sit. Eat.”
“It smells like hospital food.”
“Well, yeah, that’s because it is.” Sandy sat down. “Looks yummy. Chicken, peas, potatoes and juice.”
Barry groaned and hobbled over. He stopped before sitting down. “You’re kidding me.”
“I promise to make you real food once the crisis is over. Sit.”
Barry reluctantly did. “What is this?”
“Dinner.”
He glanced down to the plate. Visually it was alright, but he knew that chicken leg and mound of peas was an optical illusion. He poked his fork into the chicken. “It’s puréed food molded to look like what it’s supposed to be.”
“That’s all there was.”
He lifted a forkful into his mouth. “Oh, this is tasteless.”
Sandy placed a saltshaker on the table. “Douse it. I swear I’ll get us real food soon.”
“Fine.”
“Did you want to go into the rec room and watch a movie?” Sandy asked, really trying to act as if she enjoyed her meal.
“If Agnes doesn’t dictate.” He exhaled. “You know what? Gretchen is working. Bet she can steal us some snacks from the bingo prize closet.”
“Make you a deal. Eat one of those mounds and I’ll eat one and we’ll go search her out.”
“Deal.”
They both muddled through the meal as best as they could and Sandy allowed Barry to use crutches, but only if he used both and not just one.
They made their way down to the recreation room. Other than the occasionally high volume television, the hallways were quiet and void of anyone.
“Wonder what’s going on,” Barry said. “They have bingo tonight.”
“Maybe it ended early.”
“Maybe it didn’t start yet. Look.” He pointed down the hall. Gretchen carried a tray of bingo balls and waved before stepping into the recreation room. “God I hope she doesn’t make us play for the snacks.”
“Wow,” Gretchen said as she walked into the recreation room, there were four residents there all seated at different tables. “Everyone is so quiet and still. I’ll get things passed out. We were short staffed in the kitchen. So I’m a little late. Maybe we can watch an old episode of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman after … Mr. Peach.” She called an older gentleman.
Mr. Peach stood with his walker by the window, his back to Gretchen.
“Mr. Peach?” She walked up to him, tray of balls in hand. “We’re gonna play now.” She reached out to tap his shoulder, when she did, he slowly turned his head and looked at her.
Gretchen screamed.
It wasn’t a normal scream Barry heard.
It was definitely Gretchen and she cried out short spurts of frightened, ‘Ahs’ over and over.
As best as he could he vaulted his way on the crutches to the rec room.
By the time he and Sandy got there, Gretchen stood center of the room, throwing bingo balls at the residents.
A man in a walker, clearly had turned and inched his way to her.
There were two women seated at the tables, they too had turned, but were having a hard time getting up. They’d rise and fall back down.
There was another man there and a woman, they hadn’t turned, they watched the events as if it were a live production of something entertaining.
“Gretchen!” Barry called.
“Help!” Gretchen cried out. She’d take a few steps toward the walker man, throw a ball and back up. “Get back, Marv,” she yelled at the man. “I’m warning you. Back.”
“My God,” Sandy said. “They’re moving so slow.”
“Gretchen.” Barry hobbled to her. “Calm down.”
“Get out Mr. Bick, they’re deadly,” Gretchen cried. She turned when one of the women again tried to get up. Gretchen screeched, hit her with a bingo ball.
“Gretchen,” Barry tried to reason with her. “It’s okay. They can’t get you if you just move.”
“He’s coming.” She pointed to the man using a walker. “Marv.”
“Yes, he is. But it’ll take him a while. Let’s you and Sandy get the two out of here that haven’t turned.”
“And take them where?” Gretchen asked.
“Anywhere other than here and we’ll get in touch with Command,” Barry said. “Sandy, can you help?”
“This has got to be the strangest thing,” Sandy said. “They’re so slow. It’s not even dangerous.”
“As long as none of the young workers turn, we’ll be fine.”
Boom! The door to the recreation room opened with a bang. A male aid wearing bloody scrubs, stood in a lunging manner. His arms held out to his side as his head went left to right.
Sandy look at Barry. “You were saying?”
Gretchen screamed.
Barry saw the bingo ball whiz by and hit the undead aide in the forehead.
“That’s not gonna do it.” Barry balanced on one crutch, reached behind to the holster he carried concealed on his hip, pulled out the pistol, loaded the chamber, aimed and fired.
The aide went down.
Gretchen screeched again, this time short. She turned to Barry and like a light switch, her demeanor cha
nged. “Why do you have a gun?”
<><><><>
Some Place in Ohio
What it needed was a single scoop of vanilla ice cream, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and Rachel loved that warm and gooey apple pie, ice cream or not. She savored every bite, even though her belly was full beyond belief.
It was the first time since the outbreak that she just didn’t want to leave.
Roasted chicken, potatoes, fresh carrots and pie. Along with coffee brewed in a tin pot with fresh from the cow milk.
Everything was amazing. Of course, when she told Rigs about wanting to be Amish, he just laughed. He couldn’t see her in the clothes.
The Amish community had it together.
Only one family from that particular area had survived, the massive grouping of Amish were the accumulation of many communities across Ohio and Pennsylvania. They joined up as they sought a safer area and for the previous nine months they remained in that one place, making a home and keeping the undead away.
At least twenty tables were set up outside in the community circle around the houses. It wasn’t that they always took meals that way, they did it for the guests.
Zeus nodded when Eli, the leader in his fifties told of how the undead always found their way to them. But Rachel knew Zeus was more into the pie.
Forkful after forkful.
“We knew we had to rely upon the skills that God has given us,” Eli said. “So we learned as best as we could.”
“I hear you,” Zeus said, then lifted his head. “Why is he staring at Kasper so much?”
Rachel looked to see what Zeus was talking about. The man at the next table kept looking over.
“Is he scared?” Zeus asked. “Because there is no need to be.”
“No, no,” Eli stated. “I would believe it is because we did not think there would be another like Mary.”
“Mary?” Zeus asked. “Is that like a religious thing?”
“Yes, as he is.” Eli nodded at Kasper then looked over his shoulder. “Mary, please come here.”
The Eliminators | Volume 3 Page 13