by Mike Fosen
“Tell me again of this trap you men had set up yesterday,” he ordered.
The small group fidgeted and looked at one another, afraid to risk Kettle’s wrath in case he disliked what had happened. Finally one cleared his throat and spoke up, “Father, we found a natural bottle neck in the roadway caused by disabled vehicles. We laced the road with stuff to flatten their tires on their return trip.”
Kettle waved his hands at him annoyingly. “Yes, yes I understood that part of it, continue.”
The man looked at his comrades nervously. “We rigged the garage doors of auto shop to open via a trip wire when they approached. We had it hooked to a counter weight made of sandbags. It was well designed and that part worked perfect. The garage was filled with infected people that we lured inside before sealing it off. We used one of our prisoners as bait, the man who tried to fight after we had our way with his girlfriend.
Kettle smiled. “That is good to hear. His woman was an ugly troll; he never should have tried to defend her. Some people just refuse to learn.”
The spokesman of the group chuckled. “Well, we figured the infected would catch them off guard wipe most of them out. Then we could go in, grab the woman, and finish off the rest afterwards.”
“I see, very daring,” Kettle murmured. “And what went wrong?”
“Well it appeared that the salty guy with the cigar must have smelled a trap because they wiped out all the infected souls,” the group’s spokesman replied. “They lost a couple people but none of their leaders. We didn’t have the firepower to engage them at that point.”
Kettle cursed silently and sat back into his chair. “Did any of them see you?” he asked. “We are not ready for a war against them yet. They’re way too organized and outgun us significantly at this time.”
“No, Father, the unbelievers did not observe us from our vantage point in a nearby apartment building,” the man replied.
“This is a good omen, my sons,” Kettle said. “What is the status of Mattie?”
“The men have her around them at all times outside of the prison,” the man replied. “I think we need to kill a few of them to get the chance to take her.”
Kettle sighed in irritation. “Very well, but don’t try anything else quite yet. Let them finish up their little trips for the campers without incident. I can’t have them getting suspicious.”
“Yes, Father.”
“As for Mattie,” Kettle said, “need I remind you gentlemen that I want her unharmed?”
“No, Father!” they all replied in unison.
Not the brightest bunch, Kettle mused to himself as the men filed out. But they would have to do until Jonas could get inside. They must move forward on that, and soon.
* * * * * * * *
Councilman Lewis had no idea what day it was. He knew that he was hungry. He felt the constant gnawing at his gut. He was also constantly thirsty, forcing himself to conserve the small amount of soda he had left. Things had not gone very well for him since he’d had the safe zone destroyed by the Air Force, but it had been satisfying knowing that he killed those arrogant law enforcement officers in the process. After the jets had bombed the place, he traveled south for several blocks, using all of the ammunition from Sgt. Henderson’s firearm in the process. He was eventually forced to take refuge in this small one story building as several zombies closed in on him. The front door didn’t slow them down for shit, but he was able to climb up into the attic and pull the retractable stairs up behind him. He was safe for the time being, but he was also trapped.
After days of sitting up there, he had burned through all the food and most of his water from his travel bag. Either he would have to try and fight his way out or wait until they got bored and left.
“Do zombies ever get bored?” he wondered out loud, looking down on the patiently waiting horde below.
The screaming and moaning began to drive him crazy as the days passed. Just when he was about to go mad, he saw something that made his blood curdle. He thought it was a hallucination at first but soon realized it was not. A convoy had passed by, and from his vantage point Lewis was able to make out that the big cop with the shaved head was driving a large RV eastbound. Lewis screamed in rage at the sight but soon found an opening. The noise of the convoy had drawn the zombies away from his hiding spot, allowing him a chance at escape.
Now Lewis stared at yet another returning convoy with hatred as he shoved nacho flavored Doritos into his mouth and guzzled his third bottle of Gatorade in an hour. His escape from the attic perch he’d thought was going to be his grave had given him a renewed sense of optimism. He thought he was surely going to die in that fucking house surrounded by these endless hordes of undead. The thought of dying by starvation or being bitten was terrifying enough, but the fact that the very police officers who he blamed for bringing his plans to ruin survived the bombing was unacceptable. This and the fact that they now seemed to be running a top notch operation made his hatred burn. They had returned for three days, each time to retrieve more campers.
“They are just trying to show me up out of spite because I didn’t think of it!” Lewis growled.
Returning to the kitchen of his new hiding spot, Lewis tore through the cabinets for more food. Salvaging two cans of soup and a package slightly moldy hotdog buns, Lewis threw them into a white plastic shopping bag along with three small bottles of water and a box of graham crackers.
“Well, two can play at that game,” he schemed. “You destroyed my destiny, you bastards. I’ll make you pay dearly!”
Lewis caught a reflection of himself in the kitchen window. Dried blood caked his face along with dirt and grime accumulated from the days spent in that attic. Filthy, tattered clothing showed his starved gaunt body. His own family would be hard pressed to recognize him right now.
Lewis knew that he had to do something. Looking around for a weapon, he settled on breaking off a wooden table leg. He was weakened from his ordeal and hoped he would not be forced to use it. Seeing that the convoy with the campers went east, Lewis decided to head that direction as well.
Thank God these rotting corpses moved slowly. Lewis spent the next couple of hours narrowly escaping being yet again trapped by several groups of infected after the sun went down. He finally managed to cross a bridge over the river into the east side of the city. Nearing a barricade consisting of a large mass of parked vehicles, Lewis slowed.
He saw fires lit in the background and that that somebody must be alive behind the barricade.
He froze when a spotlight was trained on him.
“Look, it’s another damned undead creature,” a male voice echoed across the night. “This one’s by himself.”
Lewis was so startled he put up his hands and yelled, “Don’t shoot! I’m not dead! I’m not sick!” He was so weak he couldn’t help himself and felt the warmth trickling down his legs.
There was a long pause on the other side of the spotlight.
“I don’t know, Gus…he looks like he is dead,” the same voice called out.
“That ain’t no walking dead man you idiot,” another said along with the sound of someone getting slapped. “They can’t talk or piss themselves like that guy just did.”
“I need help please. I’m hungry and without shelter. Have mercy!”
The second guard hopped down and walked up with a shotgun trained on Lewis and looked at him hard.
“Mercy,” he snapped. “Well that isn’t for me to give.”
The man waved his partner over. “Take him over to the truck and make sure he sees the Father for ‘mercy’. You never know, he might be in a good mood for once.”
“That’s a good one!” one of the guards laughed.
After a short ride in the bed of a truck, Lewis was dragged out and pushed into the old St. Joseph Catholic Church, which he recognized and was once an actual member of. Not that he ever went; it was just for getting the votes whenever he ran for office. Wondering if the old priest was still alive, Lewis f
igured if so, he might be able to scrounge up some leverage here and become a person of authority again. The two men stopped dragging him when they approached the door to the priest’s office. Lewis took a second to fix his clothing as best he could and smoothed his hair. The guards knocked and opened the door after hearing the order to enter come from inside. Lewis stepped inside and stopped dead in his tracks. There sat a man reading reports by candlelight. A man Lewis thought dead. Yet there he was sitting behind the huge antique oak desk, clearly in charge as others rushed about carrying out his orders. The man in priest robes put down his papers and looked at him calmly for a few moments, studying his face. Then a smile that didn’t reach his eyes stretched his lips as his fingers drummed on the desktop.
“Hello, brother,” Kettle purred.
41
October 5
Day 41
Texas, USA
Matvei stayed an extra couple of days at his ranch. Much thought was put into the men, vehicles, supplies and route to be taken. Tamera had proved very convincing as well, begging him first to stay and then to take her with him. A short expedition in the direction of Phoenix changed that idea. The ranch had indeed shielded her from the total devastation gripping much of the country. Being put face to face with flesh eating monsters really took the fight out of her.
“Many people are counting on my company and my leadership, Tamera,” Matvei told her. “After I oversee this coming operation we should be able to settle in for the winter.”
Finally he managed to get his small ten man convoy on the move east. He rode shotgun in the lead vehicle, a tan Chevrolet Tahoe, with a driver and two back seat gunners. Another Tahoe ran second with four occupants as well, and the third vehicle was a large flatbed truck loaded with fuel, ammo and food. His plan was to stop at the outposts set up along the way and check up on the men. It was slow going initially as the group took their time, careful to not get boxed in by the large groups of infected that permeated every urban area they came across.
There were signs of life in the rural areas, and the small convoy even passed several vehicles on the road. No one from either party attempted to make any introduction. When he finally arrived in Silver City, New Mexico, their first stop, he found everything in order. The town had a population of over 10,000 before the outbreak and at least 700 were still alive. Matvei’s men had moved into the Western New Mexico University campus, which had been mostly deserted. Matvei located the campus on the western edge of the small city and just south of Interstate 180. He found that his team used vehicles to first establish a perimeter around the campus and athletic fields and was advised that they met with zero opposition from the locals. His men then aided the locals in securing the town, destroying any infected persons and then burning the bodies outside of town. While skeptical at first, the town’s people began working with the mercenaries for the common good.
“This is exactly what I am looking for,” Matvei remarked, commending his men on their progress before heading out. “When you feel like you’re fully fortified, work with the locals on branching out. See about power and water as well. Before long we will have them all eating out of our hands.”
He only spent one night on campus before moving out at dawn.
Things were not looking quite as good in Roswell, New Mexico. The population had been in the 50,000 range prior to the virus and the 170 men assigned to the town had their hands full. They had moved into the New Mexico Military Institute. The Hagerman Barracks on campus had proven to be a formidable facility, perfectly capable of supporting their entire operation with the building’s four outer walls protecting a large courtyard. Matvei was impressed with the facilities but dismayed at their lack of progress. That lack of progress had started from the very beginning, when not all of the school’s 900 students had fled. Several dozen had defended the barracks from the mercenaries with military discipline that would have made their teachers proud.
Roswell itself was hit hard by the virus, and the infected basically had the compound under siege. Only by creating a large diversion and shooting their way in did Matvei gain entry to the facility. Little had been done in the way of gathering supplies or survivors. The men’s morale was shot, and the man he had placed in command was dead. Matvei ended any internal competition for leader by placing a man named Santos in charge. Matvei spent several days with Santos scouting out the town and laid out some operational goals to be met by his return.
“Reach out to the locals,” Matvei urged. “Help them out and gain their trust. We’re going to need the manpower moving forward. I expect results on my return trip.”
From there Matvei set out yet again, traveling eastward over the land that someday he hoped to rule.
Finally there was Brownfield, Texas. With Brownwood having been wiped out by the military convoy, it was his only outpost before Dallas. Radio communication had been spotty before his arrival, and Matvei scanned the town with his binoculars upon his arrival. The town had a population of fewer than 10,000 and was surrounded by cotton fields. The sunrise made the soil look red in Matvei’s lenses, and he correctly guessed that it must be from high iron oxide content in the soil. His contingent of men had taken up residence at the local high school, but even that looked quiet from here. A vehicle barricade around the football field looked abandoned. There was no movement from the living or the dead.
“Take us in nice and easy,” Matvei advised Raul, who was driving the large SUV.
Taking U.S. Route 62 south into town, Matvei finally saw a few infected wondering in the downtown area. Arriving back at the school, he found it undefended with the front door open.
Matvei assembled his small team, and they made a sweep of the school. What he found made him sick. The mutilated bodies of several women were found in multiple classrooms. They had obviously been raped and tortured and had no signs of being infected prior to their death. In other rooms were the remnants of all night parties, complete with alcohol and drugs. The baseball fields were also full of corpses, belonging mostly to the locals, and the stench was overwhelming. A half-assed attempt had been made at burning the bodies, and Matvei and the others vomited before clearing out.
When they were getting back to their vehicles, a mercenary patrol pulled up, and Matvei got the story on how it all went down. A large gang population had augmented his command, and they had a large shipment of the Cartel’s product with them. The outbreak terrorized the small town to its core, but the gangbangers were far worse in this case. The bangers could still reason, unlike the infected, and quickly overpowered any resistance. They then raped and killed at their leisure while security and discipline went by the wayside. On a power crazed coke binge the men got reckless, and many were killed by a combination of locals and infected alike. Eventually the men just broke up into small groups as resources got scarce.
“What a fucking waste!” Matvei cursed. “I would love to kill them all myself!”
The patrol informed Matvei that about twenty of them stayed clear of the entire mess and were holed up at a ranch outside of town. Matvei followed the patrol to the ranch to have a look. It was a nice location, with several trees and a small pond. The men had put up a watchtower and several rows of fencing around the property. No major supplies had been gathered, and Matvei eventually decided to give up the outpost and have the remaining men follow his group into Dallas.
“We’ll need to hole up here for a bit and outfit enough vehicles with supplies to make the journey,” Matvei ordered after a group meeting. “Let’s get on it.”
Raul had been pulling guard and answered Matvei with a burst of rifle fire from his AK-74. “We got company!”
Infected had made their way to the ranch, and Matvei knew he was going to be in for a long night.
42
October 6
Day 42
Drab gray clouds drifted eastwards and filled the sky from horizon to horizon. The chilly light rain gradually soaked one to the skin if they didn’t pay attention and wear prot
ective clothing. The fall season was already upon us, and we had so much to still do before winter. I burrowed myself under the blankets again and tried to fall back asleep in my soft bed. I had finally gotten the chance to dig into that latest Dark Tower book last night and stayed up reading it way too late. The soundproofing of my new quarters almost but not quite muffled the retorts of gunfire as our sentries killed zombies from the towers. Logan and Kleaner had attacked that responsibility with a vengeance; I didn't think anyone, not even Stephen, could enjoy shooting that much. I saw our friendly postman Casper last night in a competition with the two of them to see who could make the farthest head shot. They had a case of beer on the line, but it was late and I never did find out who won.
The large stone walls themselves offered me the most comfort. Not only did they protect us against the zombies, they masked a lot of noise from the howling bastards and also kept our background noise down as well. Only the hum of our generator gave away our presence. The zombies outside the walls would just howl and batter their hands into the wall until they were killed by the guard towers. They had been able to keep up with the amount of creatures that arrived, but I had a feeling that would change soon.
Groaning, I kicked the blankets back and swung my feet out of the bed and onto the floor. Standing and stretching arms over my head, I heard my joints pop like bubble wrap.
That can’t be good!
I shuffled into the living room area of the bus, found the remote to the entertainment system and turned on my iPod that was hooked up to the stereo. I felt almost guilty having such an outrageously nice RV, but not so guilty I wanted to give it up. At this point there was nothing to stop any living man from going out and taking almost anything he wanted. Now that we had power I had seen more than one flat screen TV, PlayStation, and Blue Ray movie collection pop up. Lots of high end shit that the person probably always wanted and was now there for the taking.