The Scott Pfeiffer Story (Book 2): Sheol

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The Scott Pfeiffer Story (Book 2): Sheol Page 19

by Woods, Shane


  Equipment festooned the trucks and trailers from all angles. Belongings and generators, boxes and crates all strapped across roofs, bumpers, and trailer sides. Add the people, and there was barely room to fart, let alone add anything else.

  I could not and may never be sure it was worth the trade-off, but I had hoped so. Every trip was a risk, and not just a risk of expendable materials but, as had been displayed the day before, life as well. Was a new family to feed and a bunch of animals worth trading the lives of six of our people? Can you even measure that?

  Ready to leave, we pulled near the front gate and waited. And waited another minute.

  “Right,” Cody said, and got out of the truck to go open the gate.

  I guess none of us considered that we weren’t leaving anyone behind at a home base willing to do it for us this time.

  Cody returned, rocking the truck once again as he entered and settled in, and we were off.

  I cut a right onto the side road, then after a short distance, another right onto the main road.

  The lengths of Erik’s fence, or whoever’s fence it was now, seemed to chase us as we left, a chain-link barking dog seeing its owner off, not knowing he may not be coming back.

  We had made an offer to those Erik was leaving. We told them where we were, and what we were about. Gave them the same offer for trade and security between us all that we had with Hashman. We even told them about Hashman, too. It was a no-go. They explained that they felt safer behind their fence, and when the time came, they would find more members here and there.

  Maybe they’d expand that way. Maybe they wouldn’t. They made it clear though that they’d handle it on their own from there.

  We traced the exact path we had come from. Mostly because we already knew the way, but also because we knew it was clear. If anything was out of place from the day before, we’d know to exercise care. And despite the urge to cruise openly under the assumption nothing had changed, I decided to err on the side of caution and maintain a steady thirty miles-per-hour, just in case it was fucked.

  Within about fifteen minutes of travel, we came across the area we were ambushed at the day before. A number of infected littered the area, both dead and alive. Even with the windows up, the stench was immense.

  A mixture permeated us that was worse than opening a fridge in the apocalypse. The wet odor of the infected mixed with the aroma of those burnt, heavily accented by the recent fire which still raged on here and there. The woods and field smoldered, and among the flames, they still roamed. The sick, the dead, the undead, whatever name you preferred, they still ambled about aimlessly. I knew not whether they searched for something lost, or just meandered, waiting for their next victim of opportunity. I didn’t think it mattered, because they were there either way.

  We’d adopted a heavy sweep and clear policy every time we’d scavenge, except in a couple of extreme cases. Extreme as in those kinds of cases where a single movement could bring three-thousand of these fuckers your way.

  Either way, here was a good chance to cut down their numbers in one big heap, and we had open avenues to escape front and back. Take out more of them, there’s less of them to trouble you in the future. Yeah, it’s easy to joke about, or picture yourself as some kind of badass out here just mowing down hordes of them, but it isn’t fun. It’s grisly, it’s terrible work, and if there were any other way, I’d take it. These aren’t desk lamps, these infected, freak or not they were someone somebody loved.

  But it still had to be done for the safety of those we still had with us.

  I slowed the truck to a stop, the other rigs also presenting themselves in line.

  “Get ready, lock and load. We’re going to keep our M.O. and sweep and clear. Over,” I instructed over the radio, then waited a few moments before issuing another order, “Fire.”

  Like a car crash early Sunday morning, the air erupted with noise. The cosmic typewriter clack of explosive small-arms fire ripped the air apart and left space for uncounted bullets to fly free as the vehicles vibrated from falling brass casings. Freaks started dropping on both sides of the convoy as bodies turned and contorted, tugged this way and that by the rounds we sent their way.

  A few began running in our direction but barely made any progress before being removed from our plane of existence. One turned, and I recognized it from the day before. And from months before this point. It was Parker. He looked beyond ragged, and a good half of his face was burnt by fire and contorted into a permanent toothy sneer, but I’d have recognized him from a mile away.

  Clara paused her firing form the window and turned to face me, having seen him herself.

  “Yup,” I said coldly, and she complied, turning back into position and digging her rifle deep as she unleashed a volley of fire that found a home right below the unkempt mass of hair that remained on the poor boy’s head.

  The ammunition expenditure lasted maybe another forty-five seconds before it really petered out.

  “Cease fire, cease fire,” I repeated into the microphone and all guns fell silent.

  I turned and watched, all down the line of trucks and trailers, everyone had been firing. A wave of ammunition meant no freak was forgotten and none in near range was likely going to be any trouble for anyone now, save for the scavengers. If they still ate the infected, it seemed to depend on the animal.

  Erik could be seen checking his rifle as he got back into his vehicle at the tail end of the line.

  He had cleared his own swath through the monsters and did so without question or hesitation.

  This worked great for both parties. I now knew that at least to some extent I could count on him. His wiry little wife even was going about the process of reloading a shotgun and putting it on safe, then doing the same for her pistol.

  It also seemed to show a little of our own hand to Erik and his family. Yes sir, we were everything we said we were. Tried to be, at least.

  I settled back in and put the truck back into drive and continued onward.

  It was graciously uneventful the rest of the way back to our compound. The biggest event to be seen was watching a couple of the guys barely hanging onto the junk tied to the trailers as they policed loose brass to reload shells with if possible. They’d laugh as they went about the mundane duty, and each spent bullet casing they rounded up was treated like a mini celebration. Kids at any age, regardless of the firearms they carried.

  We approached the road we departed the compound on, and our own wall came into view. I examined the face in the windshield of Erik’s truck as best I could from my mirror. Unable to see much in detail I stuck up a single thumb and watched him return the motion with a broad grin that was finally visible even from my vantage. Yeah, Erik, you’re home, buddy. You and your family can actually relax.

  We took the final left before the wall and swung wide to park in front of the gate as usual, but this time was anything but usual.

  One gate guard on the outside, and one in the makeshift guard shack with a radio was the norm.

  This time, we were met with eight armed men. Not exactly children, not the younger end of the high school kids that typically filled in where needed, but men. One of them, Ashley’s husband Zack, produced an electronic bullhorn. I hadn’t seen hardly anything of the guy since the first day. He spent most of his time switching guard posts along the walls or helping with construction crews, rarely scavenging but he seemed to always make himself scarce. I’d not heard good nor bad of him, and therefore essentially forgot him most times. Surely, I’d never seen him lead a position of authority before, so I was taken aback a bit.

  “DRIVER!” his voice boomed through the amplification. “STEP OUT OF THE VEHICLE SLOWLY AND APPROACH THE GATE!”

  “Okay what the fuck?” I questioned to nobody in particular.

  I complied, but not slowly. I pushed open my door and stepped out into the still-cool morning air. Walking around the door and pushing it closed behind me, I strode purposefully to the gate.

&nb
sp; “What the fuck, Zack?” I demanded as I approached, watching all with him relax when they saw it was me.

  “Attack last night boss,” he explained. “You’re going to have to vouch for these people or we’re going to need to search everyone and everything.”

  “Open the gate and step aside, they’re with me, of course I fucking vouch for them!” I instructed, then, “And put out a call for anyone with information to meet me on the ninth floor. Immediately.”

  I turned from the gate without seeing if Zack responded, and I didn’t wait for a confirmation. I just shouted over my shoulder to open the gate now, not later, or I was coming through anyway.

  I didn’t even know if it was possible to bust the front door of our compound with a pickup truck, but luckily, I didn’t need to find out. By the time I had slid into my seat, the outer gate was rolled clear and I pulled into position to wait for them to work the inner. I then pulled aside to wait for the rest to come through and pass, motioning for Harrison and the last truck to pull alongside me long enough to tell him I wanted the inner gate open and waiting for me.

  “What the hell is going on, Scott?” Clara questioned me.

  “All I know is we were attacked, according to them,” I told, “and security has been bolstered. We’re going straight in to command.”

  Harrison’s truck pulled away and after a few seconds we were back in gear and following.

  I drove through our partial neighborhood, and straight for the front gate, barely having to wait for the last trailer to clear as I pulled on in and flipped Noah off on my way by. The move was needless, but he was far from an ‘alpha’ of any sort, and the dickhead in me relished in the look of his face.

  I parked my truck every bit as willy-nilly as cattle roamed and got out of the driver’s side, barking orders as soon as my feet hit solid ground.

  “Ash!” I shouted as he crossed the lot to head into the North Building, watching him turn and move in my direction instead. Good. I turned and started barking orders for anyone in earshot.

  “I want these supplies staged out NOW!” my voice boomed. “Erik’s stuff goes to an empty truck for them, start laying bedding in the first floor apartments’ front rooms. Move the cattle and other animals into those rooms, they get the first floor now, just not the heat rooms with Henry’s things.”

  People started moving double-time and cutting their stretching and conversations short to get moving on the new tasks.

  “Fred, as the trucks and trailers get emptied, find someone to bring them to the garage,” I spoke more quietly, as he was nearer to me. “Then you’re in charge of the willy’s and the nilly’s. Find ‘em all suitable homes, remove the front sliding doors for each apartment if you need to.”

  “Got it,” Fred acquiesced and started barking his own orders.

  “Ash, thank you for joining us,” I said as he approached. “This is Erik. You got the most recent tour, take them around, show them the basics and go house shopping for them. This is our new farm family, the animals are theirs.”

  “Sure thing, buddy,” Ash complied and took Erik by the shoulder as I motioned Clara and Cody to follow me. Within a minute we were walking into the command center.

  It was already filled with more people than I expected, but what dismayed me the most was Tony sitting in my seat at the head of the table. That dickhead. Still my buddy, but what a dickhead.

  “Get up, titties,” I shot at him, “Daddy’s home.”

  He moved amid the laughter in the room and I plopped down into the chair, motioning for a cigarette from Dave and lighting the stale stick of tobacco before beginning.

  “Ryan! Rob!” I called over my shoulder into the brain of our facility, and they both stepped out, looking around at the sheer number of people in here.

  I sat for a moment and surveyed the faces in the room as I watched the mood drop into silence.

  “Start at the beginning,” I said. “What happened while we were gone?”

  The room erupted, everybody offering different bits of info at once. I put my hands up and waited for it to die down.

  “Who was the first to see anything at all?” I reiterated, and Henry put his hand up. “Henry, what was it?”

  “Bunch of guys with guns. I was on the South Building, Eighth Floor balcony on guard duty,” he explained. “They came in with a little boat real smooth and quiet like. I ran back in; I was trying, brother. Tried getting to the bell to ring it.”

  The man looked so lost, almost like a puppy that had done something wrong but wasn’t sure what yet.

  “It’s cool, man,” I soothed my friend, “you saw something wrong, and went to alert the compound. That was your job.”

  “Thank you, my brother,” Henry conceded. “They was gone by the time I hit the bell, but I rang it anyway. Somebody took a shot at me but that’s all I know. I dropped down when they shot and tried to get to a lower floor.”

  “Who next?” I asked the group.

  “Right here,” Rich offered, and I could see the red blotch of blood on a bandage wrapping his left arm. “They shot me when I came out of my building. Must have thought they got me because I hit the ground, when they passed, I loaded them up with an M4 from behind. By then Dave started from a balcony with his AK, and all of a sudden, all of the balconies were firing.”

  “Does anyone know for sure if it was just a team, or if they were there from a larger group?” I questioned.

  “Colonel Parker,” Tony said.

  “You know this though?” I asked him. “How are you sure?”

  “Because we’ve got one tied up in the storage units below the South Building,” Dave said coldly. “He was literally screaming Colonel Parker’s name before the sun was even up. He may have bled out now though.”

  “Bled out?” I asked in response.

  “Yeah,” Tony confirmed, “He didn’t start talking until I shot him in the balls.”

  “Well shit, that’s convincing at least,” I said, cringing a bit. “But no need to make anyone suffer. Rich, if he’s not dead, go make him so.”

  “Aye aye,” Rich said and got up to leave.

  “Sounds like it was Tony and Dave, uh, interrogating the hostage?” I asked.

  “Me too,” Henry clarified. “Them fuckers shot at me. I got to help beat one up.”

  “That’s fair,” I offered, watching Henry relax again, the stout black man cocooning himself into the plush office chair. “So what useful info did you get?”

  “They were here for you,” Tony informed, “and me, Rich, Dave, pretty much all of us they could identify. Said if this failed, they were going to stage an assault in the near future, but we have reason to believe the guy didn’t know exactly when, just that it was coming soon.”

  “We need to get ready then,” I advised. “We’ll send anyone that doesn’t want to or need to be involved upriver to Hashman until this blows over or ends either way. Children first. No scouting or scavenging for the next few days to a week, and, no more overnight excursions. Nothing. We all guard the compound, or we leave.”

  “But if we all leave,” Jennifer offered, “you included, won’t they just give up and assume we’ve moved on?”

  “Then they’ll never stop looking for me. For us,” I suggested. “If we face them here and crush them, they won’t be looking for much of anything, and our neighbors and children will be safe. And if we don’t face them here now, they’ll just come back for us when we return. We’re kind of stuck, in a way. Damned if you do type of thing.”

  “They have a tank…” she started again.

  “APC,” I corrected.

  “It has a big gun and a lot of armor,” she reminded me, “it’s a fucking tank to me.”

  “They have a tank,” I sighed as I rolled my eyes, “we have a Richard.”

  “This isn’t the Avengers, you shit,” she nearly growled.

  “It’s also not up for debate,” I responded, then stood from my seat. “When Richard gets back, I want some of you to take m
ore of you and go with him. Whatever way he has to limit the equipment they can use, I want it done. I don’t care if we have to find a way to make this place fly, we do it.”

  “They have a gunship,” Dave said. “Well, a small helicopter with guns, but they have one. We’ll even have a fight if we fly.”

  “That’s right! You guys,” I motioned to Tony, remembering their detail I sent them on, “you’re supposed to be scouting the Colonel, what happened to that?”

  “Didn’t take much,” Tony shrugged. “Even in broad daylight the guy doesn’t know dick about security. We pretty much snuck up between some houses and into another, saw everything he had from one place. They’re currently set up in the parking lot of the old Market District.”

  “Well?” I urged him.

  “About three-hundred people, all armed,” He detailed. “They’ve got an AH-6, that Brad, a few supply or cargo trucks, and 5 Humvees.”

  “That’s the bad news, what’s in our favor?” I asked, eying my friend.

  “I watched a fight break out over food, handful of people scrapping for scraps,” he offered.

  “And?” I urged.

  “Tells me they’re probably low on food,” he continued. “I also saw very few people with any kind of drinking water, and about half his men are sleeping right outside with no cover.”

  “That puts me a bit more at ease,” I confirmed. “We’ll have to fight the military, and they outnumber us, but they aren’t doing as well. Worst case, unless they can call for backup, it’ll end up fairly even. And even stuck in here, the land is in our favor.”

  “What about using the infected to our advantage?” Rob suggested. “You know, like before?”

  “The Colonel,” I advised, “has the ability to break our walls in one way or another. I don’t want the infected anywhere near us if that happens.”

  “It could help us though,” Cody suggested. “Even if the infected got inside, it could interfere with the Colonel’s ability to interfere with us.”

 

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