Beginning of the New Beginning, Vol 1

by Taylor, W. Joe

  “Copy. I have an idea to give you an assist. Let me know when they drop out of your line of sight,” Bill replied.

  Q had figured out the balancing machine and was finishing the first tire while Bill had swapped out the others. Bill crept out of the tire center, bringing the other three with him, knowing Q was secure inside. The slowly stalked towards the front with melee weapons drawn. If they needed to re-dead any stragglers, they didn’t want to draw the whole crowd. Bill climbed up on a pallet of one-gallon water bottles so he too could see out the front doors. His view over the dead heads to the outside was limited, but he didn’t need to see far. That was why D was up top. The thrillers had spotted the bikers outside, and their attention had been drawn by the sound of the bikes approaching.

  Over the coms, Bill heard the first shot, then D’s breath, and then another shot.

  “Ok, I got the leader in the head this time. He really isn’t coming back from that. The next dude moved, and I think I got him in the shoulder, but I can’t be too sure,” she reported.

  “No worries. Charity, I need you to shoot out the windows of a few cars on my word. I need to shoot out these doors first. That will draw the thrillers out. They are already worked up into a frenzy.”

  “Copy,” she said.

  Bill aimed at the right side front door with his AR and shot the glass. It made a small spider web about three inches across, but nothing more.

  “Fuck. Bulletproof glass. That’s how they couldn’t break out. I need all three of y’all to aim for that same spot and give it hell.”

  Several rounds later, the glass finally shattered, and most of the thrillers headed out. A few in the back realized a meal was closer and headed towards the small group. Charity did her part to draw out the thrillers, and the bikers started to panic. The four inside made quick work of the stragglers while D and Charity took care of the bikers as they ran from their hiding spots. They continued with the thrillers that had been released from their glass box of emotion until all was still outside.

  With the all-clear from above, Kathrin started to climb down from their perch on the water pallet and lost her footing. Her arms pin wheeled a few times as she tried to keep her balance, but to no avail. She belly-flopped onto a pile of three re-dead thrillers below, busting two of them open like piñatas.

  “Kathrin!” Terry hollered, and he jumped off the pallet. In his haste, his aim was not so great, and he landed on the third thriller next to Kathrin. It also burst open, further covering her in congealed blood, puss, shit, and other liquefied intestinal matter. Jake hopped down to the other side and he and Terry hauled Kathrin up to her feet. Her eyes and mouth were squeezed shut too keep the goo out, so she let out a muffled scream through her nose. Bill whipped out his knife, cut the plastic holding the pallet together, and spun the top off a couple of water bottles. He dumped them over her head, washing her face off as best as he could. The other two followed Bill’s lead, and very quickly, Kathrin was soaked to the bone, but she could open her eyes again.

  Panting from the adrenalin and holding her breath, she started to hyperventilate while repeating, “EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW!”

  “Are you injured?” Bill asked.

  “I DON’T KNOW! OH MY GOD, IT’S IN MY NOSE!”

  “Kathrin!” Bill hollered, and he lightly slapped her on the check. “I need you to focus on me right now. I know it is gross. We can all smell it. Look at me. Ok, good. I need you to lift both arms over your head. Good. Put them down. Follow my finger with your eyes. Good. Now, follow my finger with your whole head. Ok, good.”

  Right then, she bent over and threw up everything she had eaten that day.

  “I think she is going to be fine, guys.”

  “I need one of you guys to grab the other tire,” Q said into the coms.

  Jake took off to the tire center. Regrouping, and while giving Kathrin a minute to breath, Bill shared his ideas to get them going again. “Here’s my thoughts. Q, can you put the tire on while I get everyone off the roof?”

  Q gave a single nod as his response. As they walked towards the entrance, Bill looked at the front doors and noticed someone had locked them. He figured that when shit had gone down, someone had tried to keep out the monsters, only to lock them in.

  “Sweet, thanks. Kathrin, strip down to your undergarments, outside the camper, please. Then go in and shower while we finish up here. You two”—he pointed to Jake and Terry—“keep security, one in front, and one in back. On your way there, any remaining thrillers or freshly dead with a chance of turning need to be guaranteed death forever. As soon as we can, we will come help you. I want to be on the road in, like, ten minutes. We don’t know if there are more bikers, and I don’t intend to find out.”

  They missed their deadline by just a few minutes. The forklift ran out of propane with the tines only three quarters of the way down. Bill piled up some empty pallets so D, Andrea, and Charity could climb down without breaking a leg. By the time they got to the camper, Q had finished putting the original wheel with its new tire back on Bill’s trailer. He put one spare back in its location, and was putting the remaining spare on the back of his camper. Kathrin was freshly washed, and she decided to leave her nasty clothes where they lay for all of eternity.

  During the four hours between Baton Rouge and Pensacola, barely a word was spoken. Bill was extremely happy to find the tunnel in Mobile was passable. Thoughts of being trapped underground terrified him. When the signs for it came up, he had them stop so he could recon ahead. Even the songs played from a phone via Bluetooth to the radio were kept at a low volume.

  Chapter 4. Pensacola

  Exhaustion and fatigue started to set in amongst the group. The last day and a half had been the hardest some of them have ever experienced. It had been years since D, Q, and Bill had endured that kind of hours-long push, one always happened at the beginning and end of every deployment. D and Q had retired a few years ago. While Bill was still technically active duty, he had been flying a desk for years and had gotten soft. He cursed himself for that now. He’d had a hunch something like this was going to happen in his lifetime and was going to get back to working out daily next spring after he retired. He guessed it just goes to show that you can never really be ready for everything.

  He knew getting across town to where Sam and Sally lived would grant them the rest they desperately needed. The girls lived not too far off one of the main roads through town, Palafox. He worried about what would follow them, drawn by the sound of the convoy. Whether it be man or beast, the last thirty-six hours had taught them to not trust either.

  They stopped on the street in front of the house at eight pm on the second day, almost a full day later than he originally planned. He’d called Sam when they’d hit the city limits and asked her for a site rep, and she’d said it was clear in the street and they would be looking for the convoy. When they arrived, you could feel the relief wash over everyone. Once they were in the house, hugs had been given, and introductions had been made for Jake, Kathrin, and Charity, they began to discuss their next move.

  "I know everyone is probably exhausted, but we need to keep a watch tonight while we rest. God only knows what heard us and is going to come investigate," Bill said.

  "Daddy, we have been taking turns already,” replied Sam. “And we can keep doing that while y’all rest. You guys look pretty beat, and we haven't been doing anything but sitting here."

  "I don't know about you all, but I'm sleeping in my bed. That's why we brought it," D said.

  "I know, trust me, no hard feelings here," Bill replied. He handed Sam one of the handheld CBs they’d picked up and said, "Call us on this if you see anything. Anything at all. We both have one in our campers. Terry, Kathrin, and Jake will stay in the house with you. That way, we have coverage should we need it, and everyone can get some solid sleep, God willing.”

  "Ok, Daddy. Don't worry about us.”

  "Tomorrow, we'll go to your grandparents’ house and talk
to Papaw about going to Washington with us."

  "That would be good. I can't get ahold of them, and I'm really worried."

  "When was the last time you talked to them?"

  "This morning some time, around noon, I guess."

  There were a few bumps in the night but nothing major enough to stir anyone from their much needed sleep. Nor did the radio go off at any time. When Bill first emerged from his camper, he cautiously peered around. He was feeling much better than he did two days ago; whatever his body had been fighting must have lost. At the park across the street were a few thrillers. The park housed a jungle gym with a spider-web rope ladder—like one might have seen on pirate ship—leading to an elevated platform. Of course there was a slide and a bubble window at the top so kids could wave to their parents.

  Looking to the right, up the street, there were a few more thrillers and a dozen more in the other direction. The thrillers in the park heard the camper door snick shut and turned to investigate. Bill froze in place and watched them sniff the air. Looking both ways again before crossing the street, he estimated how much time he had before the others arrived at the park.

  "Breakfast time!" he said to the nearest zombie.

  "ARGHRGHRGHRGHA!"

  He waited a few seconds, and the nearest one tripped over the rope that was strung between foot-wide wooden posts spaced eight feet apart to signify the edge of the park. With aching muscles sore from the last couple of days, Bill walked up to it and speared it through the back of the head with his machete. Right then, the second and third fell over, and he quickly got the second one. As the third was starting to get up, he swung with both hands and lopped off the top of its head, sending it flying into the mulch that surrounded the jungle gym.

  "What a mind-altering experience this has been for you," he said to the one he’d just topped off. Already panting from the effort, he thought, Man, the movies made this look easy. Stepping over the rope, as no zombie could ever do, he steeled himself for the other sixteen to make their way towards the sound of the fight that had just ensued.

  The first few that came from the right side of the street (now approaching from his left) had reached the rope. The first two fell over the rope and were quickly dealt with in a similar fashion as their brethren. The next three came almost too fast. The first one, he jabbed in the back of the head with no problems, but when he stabbed the second through the eye as it was standing, his machete stuck. Again. By the time he’d freed it, the third had stood back up. Bill swung for the fences again and lopped this one’s head clean off. Now the larger group was at the rope border, and the first one was already standing.

  Bill made for the rope ladder. He didn't remember them being that hard to climb.

  "Oh, it's because I haven't had my morning coffee yet," he said the nearest thriller as he chopped its head off. Walking over to the bubble window would give him a second to catch his breath and assess the situation. The first thriller to approach was almost seven feet tall, its head high enough that it could look into the window from the apex of it, and it began to lick the window with its gray rotting tongue. At some point, it had bitten the tip of its own tongue off, judging by the shape of the teeth marks. Black and white congealed liquid (a combination of dead blood and puss was Bill’s assessment) was being pushed out every time it licked. With part of his view blocked, Bill figured he had taken a long enough rest. He walked back over to the rope ladder and found four thrillers tangled in it, trying to climb up. He shot them in the face with his .22 semi-auto pistol because he was tired of fighting and he knew this was going to be a long day.

  He was warmed up and awake now; the time for fucking around had passed. The other thrillers were crawling up the backs of the four on the rope ladder, and he popped them off with no trouble. As he reloaded his .22 to take care of the remaining thrillers—the tall one being one of them—he heard a camper door close.

  He shot another one, and while was trying to take care of the tall one, Bill heard Q say, "What the hell, man? Why didn't you call for me?"

  At this, NBA thriller turned towards Q, trying to find out if the new meal would be easier to attain. After shooting it in the back of the head now that it was away from the plastic window, Bill said, "A,, I knew you needed your beauty sleep as much as I did, and 2, I wanted to get a little workout in. It was no big deal. I saw that I had some barriers to slow them down, so I made the best of it."

  "Well, I'm glad you’re ok. And thanks, the last couple of days have been pretty rough.”

  "No shit, tell me about it."

  "Umm, weren't you there?" Q said sarcastically.

  "Hahaha. Yea. How's D holding up?"

  "All right. She might ride in the camper today though."

  "No worries. We seem to be picking up more people to help with the duties around here."

  “Yup, that was why we wanted to stick with you, safety in numbers and all that. So you think your girls are ready for the shit storm that’s about to happen?"

  "Well, they can shoot. I made sure of that over the years. But they've never been in a stressful situation like this before. They’re just like the others we picked up in San Angelo, but they’re all resilient. I tried to make sure of that too. They'll adapt. They have to. Its survival-of-the-fittest time. Sam is the one I worry about the most with this. She has her sister kill bugs for her.”

  "Yup, they’re all good kids. I’m sure Sam will be fine. She just needs to find her groove.”

  "Andre too."

  "Thanks. I'm just glad he came to live with D and me when he did."

  "So am I, bud. All right, let's get everyone together and talk about the plan for today now that the street is clear.”

  "I'm still pissed at you for having all the fun without me!"

  "To quote one of my favorite movies, the bad guy said, 'I like to do my killing before breakfast.'" They both laughed heartily, knowing there would be plenty of killing for everyone on this day.

  A couple of hours later, the three girls were fitted with helmets and rifles, and the convoy was headed out to the nearest relative of the girls. Their mother was from there, and a lot of their family still lived in the area. Passing through the cute little neighborhood they lived in, they saw a few thrillers shambling about toward them, most likely dawn in by the sound of their arrival last night. They went to a few aunts’ and cousins’ houses, but no one was home. They started to realize that their relatives had not fared well in the initial outbreak: whatever had caused billions of people around the world to die and reanimate in a few minutes’ time had apparently claimed these people too. They had not seen any living people either, and that was beginning to worry Bill. He didn't want to deal with any more opportunists—who did? But it also meant there was nobody to help rebuild society.

  There had been little in the way of thrillers all day, and finally, Bill asked Sam if she knew anything about it. She then informed the group that the annual Blue Angels show had been that weekend and most people had gone there to watch. It was one of the biggest things that happened every year. The show team was stationed there, and many people knew the crews personally. Plus, things had gone down on a Saturday, so many people had gone to the beaches or boating for the day.

  After three hours of driving around town, Q radioed up to Bill that they were going to need gasoline soon. They hadn't refueled the trucks since Mississippi sometime yesterday. The small convoy pulled into a gas station that was on the edge of town and nearly alone. They had already briefed the three new people on how guard duty worked and given them opportunities to practice a few times when they had stopped along the way. D was on the roof of their camper, Andre and Jake were standing at the backs of the campers, and Sam and Sally at the front, while Kathrin and Leah stood in between. Bill and Q refueled.

  When the tanks were full, Bill, Q, Kathrin, and Leah went inside to see what they could scrounge up. Q thought it would be a good opportunity to teach the two girls how to clear a building. A door chime announced their arri
val to the inside of the store, so they didn't have to do it. Immediately, they heard sounds from the back room: a crash, a curse, and another crash.

  "We're alive. We are friendly and not here to hurt you," Bill called out to the person in the back. "We can help you if you will let us."

  "Go away before I shoot you," said a very scared voice.

  Q got the attention of the two girls and had them post up in either direction to make sure they wouldn't be flanked.

  "I guarantee we have a lot more firepower out here than you do," Bill hollered back. "Just come out so we can talk face to face," he continued as he and Q advanced towards the voice. It sounded like that of a man in his twenties, obviously trying to be brave. This worried Bill; a frightened human could be more dangerous than a frightened dog.

  "Look, man, seriously, I can tell you’re scared. We really are nice people and would like to come to a mutual agreement. If you’re protecting someone, we are too. Let us help you.”

  The stranger must have been convinced, because he opened the door a crack, and saw two men standing there. The stranger could also see a woman close to the main entrance. They all had their weapons at the low ready, but not pointed directly at the stranger.

  "Name’s Bill. This is Q, and back there, we have Leah and Kathrin."

  The stranger opened the door more and said, "I'm Shane, and this is Anna," as he and a young lady stepped out. Just as Bill had suspected, neither looked a day over nineteen, and they were scared shitless. The gun Shane had was an AR-looking weapon, and upon closer investigation, while shaking Shane's hand, Bill could see it was only a .22.

  "That your only weapon?" Q asked with slight amusement in his voice. "That's what you were going to shoot us with?"

  "Yea, it's all I could get from my house before we made it out. It's pretty effective against those things though, as long as you get them between the eyes, and Anna has a baseball bat. She went to state last year with her softball team. A real killer with that thing," Shane said proudly.