SURVIVORS OF THE DEAD: FROM THE ASHES

by Tony Baker

  “If you think the outside is pretty, wait until you see the inside,” Derrick said as he walked up to the rear double doors, inserting a key and swinging them open. Harry walked to the open doors and could only stare in astonishment at the neatly stacked boxes of ammo, various supplies, and the weapons that had been secured to racks on the inside walls of the Bearcat. He also noticed at least a dozen cases of MREs lining one area of the compartment. Seeing Harry looking at those, Derrick said, “Oh, we found the MREs in the supply room along with about thirty gallons of water before you showed up at our back door. We’d thought maybe those would also come in handy, so the Rook and I loaded it all.”

  “Derrick, not only am I going to kiss you, I might even give you some tongue!” Harry said with a huge grin, still looking into the compartment.

  “Dude, seriously! I already spoke to you about this pretty face and all!” Derrick replied, chuckling.

  Harry stepped up into the compartment and, although a bit tight with all the items Derrick and Frank had loaded, there was still plenty of room to move comfortably. Harry looked at the center roof hatch then, reaching up, he tried to unlatch and push it open but it would not budge.

  “No, you open like this,” Derrick said, stepping into the rear compartment and showing Harry a toggle switch just to the left of the hatch. Harry flipped the toggle forward and was a bit surprised to see the hatch rise approximately five inches, then slide back toward the rear of the vehicle.

  Derrick then reached toward a recessed lever on the right side of the compartment wall, pulling it outward. Harry heard what reminded him of air brakes as they released pressure and then watched as a small platform rose from the floor just under the ceiling hatch. It stopped after reaching a height of about two feet.

  “That’s awesome.” Harry said as he excitedly stepped up on the platform to look out the hatch.

  “Careful, Harry,” Derrick said, knowing his warning was too late.

  Harry stepped up, put his upper body through the open hatch, and immediately banged the top of his head on a ceiling light fixture that was hanging above the Bearcat. Ducking back down, rubbing the top of his head while spewing several verbal metaphors, he looked at Derrick as if he had set him up.

  “Told you to be careful. We only have about a ten-inch ceiling clearance here,” Derrick replied, shrugging at Harry’s accusatory gaze.

  “Whatever,” Harry replied, stepping off the platform and exiting the rear of the vehicle still rubbing the top of his head. “Let’s just get this done. Damn that hurts!”

  “I’ll kiss your boo-boo later,” Derrick responded as he went to the driver’s door and got in. Harry gave Derrick’s back a one-fingered salute and closed the two rear doors.

  Walking up to Derrick’s door, Harry said, “Go ahead and move it to the bottom of the ramp. When I hear you shut it back down I’ll go up and radio the kid, then wait for him at the stairway door.”

  Derrick gave him thumbs up and started the BCRC. Harry was pleased at how quiet the big V-8 turbo turned out to be. It was not as loud as he had first feared, and he knew that would be to their benefit. He watched for a moment as Derrick maneuvered the big vehicle down the garage and toward the ramp, then turned and ascended the stairs, going back to the first floor entrance.

  As soon as he reached the stairway door and opened it he radioed, “Frank, it’s Harry, you ready?”

  Frank instantly replied back and said, “I picked up the unit’s keys from the intake desk and am looking out of the street door now. Looks clear so I’m ready when you are.”

  “Okay, just remember the plan, kid. Out the door, start the car; activate the lights and siren, then book it back in. You even think there’s danger you abort and head back here. Got it?” Harry said with growing anxiety, and then muttered, “I should have gone myself.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” Frank responded with what Harry thought for sure was some form of teenage angst. “I’ve got this, okay. Ready?”

  Harry had been listening to the Bearcat while he spoke to Frank, the rumble of its engine quite clear in the quiet and empty garage. After a couple of minutes he heard the engine go quiet, indicating that Derrick must be in position and had turned the truck off.

  “Do it,” Harry said into the radio mic. From Harry’s location he would not be able to hear anything other than the siren if all went according to plan. He would give it a slow count of ten, then he would run to Frank’s position. He knew if anything did go wrong he would be far too late to help by then. He cursed again, second-guessing himself.

  Harry had not even reached the count of eight when the wail of an electronic siren became very evident from outside.

  “Frank, you okay? FRANK!” Harry shouted into the radio mic as he rushed out the stairway and into the main floor.

  “On … the ... way …” Frank finally replied, obviously running and speaking between breaths. “There … in … a … few ...”

  Harry let out his own breath that he had been holding while relief washed over him. He had already started toward the inner hall that led to the side doors when he reached a count of four. Knowing that Frank was headed back in one piece, Harry immediately veered his direction and took the stairs onto the balcony proper. Once he reached the balcony, he looked out of the windows onto the street in front of the station. He was relieved to see the Zs making their way toward the side of the building and the sound of the siren. Some ran like Olympic athletes, while other shambled slowly like they didn’t have a care in the world. A few, he noticed to his complete disgust, were dragging themselves along with what appeared to have been broken and mangled legs, but they still moved with dogged determination. “It’s working,” he said to himself as he descended the stairs to wait for Frank. He didn’t have to wait long.

  As Harry reached the bottom stair he saw Frank run around the corner into the lobby. He was clutching his AR to his chest, and sweat was pouring down his face. Stooping in front of Harry, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees, Frank gasped, “That was intense.”

  “You okay, kid?” Harry asked while placing his hand on Frank’s shoulder.

  Not looking up but taking in deep breaths, Frank said, “Yeah I’m good. Just got the lights and siren going and was headed back in when I looked up and saw a shitload of those things coming around the other side of alley. They saw me, too. I was able to get the outer door closed and locked before they hit it. Boy did they hit it! Locked the inner door and booked it back here.” Frank was then able to stand and it looked as if his breathing was returning to normal. The next thing he said caused Harry great concern, but he kept that hidden from his expression. “You know both of those doors open inward and I’m not sure how long they’re going to hold. I know they are normally pretty sturdy but the electronic locks are not engaging for some reason. The only thing securing them is a deadbolt.”

  Harry nodded his understanding and said, “Doesn’t matter, we’ll be gone before they get through the first one.” As if on cue, however, both men heard what sounded like a muted explosion coming from the direction from where Frank had just come: the double security doors at the side of the building.

  “Let’s go!” Harry said while looking in the direction of those doors. “Let’s go now.” With that they immediately ran for the stairway leading down to the garage.

  20

  Once they descended the stairs to the lower garage, Harry turned to Frank while pointing to the white Ford pickup truck and said, “See if you can gain entry into that truck and let’s get it ass-ended against this door,” indicating the door to the stairway they had just come through. Frank nodded once and ran to the truck; within moments Harry heard glass break. Glancing over, he saw Frank open the driver side door, shattered glass on the concrete floor around his boots, then lean down below the steering column. Daddy must have taught him how to hotwire a car I guess.

  As he was walking toward the ramp where the Bearcat was parked, Harry heard the pickup truck start from behind h
im. The engine revved just a bit, and after a moment there was a slight screeching of tires as Frank put it in reverse, then a minor metal-on-metal bump confirming he had backed the rear end of the truck against the inward-opening stairway door, thus securing it. Within another couple of seconds the truck was shut down, and before Harry was within fifteen feet of the Bearcat, Frank trotted up beside him.

  “I’m not even going to ask,” Harry said with a grin while glancing sideways toward Frank. Looking straight ahead, Frank shrugged his shoulders. Harry clapped him on the back and they both continued to approach the big monster truck waiting at the ramp entrance.

  As they approached the Bearcat, Harry saw Derrick sitting on the rear ramp, with the back doors open, thumbing 5.56 rounds into magazines. Harry walked over to Derrick, while Frank continued around to the driver side door, and asked, “How many mags good to go?”

  Derrick glanced up without breaking his loading rhythm and said, “I think maybe two hundred and fifty 30-round mags for the ARs, and one hundred 13- round mags for our Glocks. The Rook carries a Glock 17 9mm so he’s got seventeen in the handle and I saw four mag cases on his belt. I didn’t load all these mags, of course. They must have been done at some point while there were still other officers left in the station.” Harry simply nodded in reply but was suddenly troubled, knowing that from what he had seen so far, and the sheer number of those things running around, they could burn through seventy-five hundred rounds of 5.56 and thirteen hundred rounds of .45 caliber very quickly. Frank’s sixty-eight rounds would be gone before they could go a city block.

  “Damn Derry, how come you guys couldn’t have a couple SAWs lying around?” Harry asked rhetorically. He was referring to a Squad Automatic Weapon machine gun that fired a heavy belt-fed 7.62mm round at almost eight hundred rounds per minute. “With a couple of those we could have just taken a leisurely stroll down to the marina.”

  “Seriously dude? You do remember our SWAT operates in San Francisco and not Afghanistan, right?” Derrick said with a chuckle.

  “Yeah I know, I’m just saying,” Harry muttered. Taking a deep breath he said, “Let’s button up and get ready.” Climbing into the rear of the Bearcat, Harry made his way to the front, stepping over the center console and sitting down in the passenger side seat. This was the first time that he’d been in the front section, and he was amazed at all the buttons, switches, and monitors on the dash, ceiling, and center console. Glancing over at Frank who was sitting behind the wheel, Harry swore he was doing what looked like some sort of preflight checklist.

  “Now I suppose you are going to tell me your dad had one of these things, too?” Harry asked Frank.

  “Naw, I glanced over the owner’s manual,” Frank replied, not looking away from some sort of display screen in front of him. He briefly gestured toward what appeared to be a four-inch-thick full-sized binder sitting on top of a closed mobile laptop attached to the center console.

  “Seriously, you know how to operate this thing by glancing at a copy of what looks to be a book out of an encyclopedia set?” Harry said while picking up the heavy, thick volume that Frank claimed was an owner’s manual.

  “It’s all just basic operational stuff, but man, is it cool! State of the art GPS, satellite uplinks probably for faster NCRC and Interpol connections. This radio system is more advanced than anything I’ve ever seen,” Frank said excitedly, looking and acting more like the eighteen-year-old kid Harry had thought he was when they’d first met in the armory. That only being about three hours prior. Harry felt the weight of responsibility hit him full force once again. He had to do this right. He had to help this kid, his close friend in the back, and anyone else he could to survive. There were no other options for Harry to consider; no other course to take.

  Taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts and get his head back in the game, Harry said jokingly to Frank, “Okay then Number One, activate the cloaking device and arm forward phasers. Prepare to engage.”

  Frank quickly looked over to Harry with a huge grin on his face and said, “Actually, I was just thinking how awesome it would be if this thing was a Transformer! Not just any ordinary Transformer, but a Prime! It would transform into Bear Prime with twenty-four-inch talons on one hand and a mini gun on the other! With rockets that would fire from his shoulder! Bear Prime could seriously kick some zombie ass!”

  Harry knew exactly what Frank was referring to. He had really enjoyed the three Transformer movies and knew that a Prime was a leader, the most powerful and advanced Transformer from Cybertron. Harry actually laughed and said to Frank, “That would be totally awesome!”

  Derrick had been leaning between the rear compartment and front during Frank and Harry’s exchange and finally said, “Okay kiddies, not to interrupt your interplanetary strategy session or anything, but if you’re ready to rejoin adulthood we’re buttoned up back here and ready to roll.”

  Frank and Harry exchanged glances like two kids caught doing something they shouldn’t. Harry fired back to Derrick in a whiney voice, while pointing at Frank, “Yeah, but HE brought all that stuff up! I was just trying to do my homework, Dad!” Both Harry and Frank burst out laughing at the dumbstruck expression on Derrick’s face.

  “Geez, children; one just out of diapers and one getting ready to wear them.” That was the best Derrick could get out before he joined the other two men in laughter.

  Turning serious, Harry said, “Let’s give it ten to fifteen minutes for the siren to draw as many as possible. They know somebody’s in the building now, and it sounded like they broke through at least one set of doors downstairs. Hopefully a bunch of them will pile in looking for us, clearing more from the street out front.”

  Frank had also reverted back into the professionally trained police officer that he was and said, “I know they saw me, and from what you relayed from GNN and the other reports they should continue to look for a while before losing interest. That truck should keep the door secured if they get this far down.”

  Derrick nodded in agreement and asked, “Maybe we should try that super keen radio while we wait?”

  “Do you think we could get anything down here? I know we used to have to be on street level before our cars could transmit,” Harry asked Frank.

  Looking up from the manual he had opened as soon as Derrick had suggested the radio, Frank said, “This vehicle has a microwave transmitter array built into the roof which is necessary to utilize the type of satellite connections it can use. Most of our radio systems we use standardly operate on an 800-megahertz bandwidth which has a much weaker power range compared to microwave transmission. That’s why those radios lose signal when blocked by heavy or thick obstructions. The radio equipment in the Bearcat is almost military grade so I don’t think the building would be a problem. I don’t understand it all completely, not yet at least, but I’m confident it has transmitting and receiving capabilities far more powerful than our main central dispatch, let alone the station equipment or our cars.”

  “Okay, so I think he just said it’s a pretty good radio. So unless I need a lead cup to protect the jewels from those microwaves, I say we fire that sucker up. Let’s see if we can talk to Finland or maybe the International Space Station,” Derrick said with a chuckle.

  Harry was too engrossed with what Frank had said for Derrick’s comment to register and said, “Hope it’s been programmed with at least the local channels but let’s find out.” Frank flipped three different switches on the dash and instantly, in what seemed like quadraphonic surround sound, they heard radio traffic!

  There were units calling in from various locations reporting their situations, and a calm female voice responding back to each call. The radio traffic sounded almost normal but everyone in the BCRC knew it was anything but. The thing that hit Harry hard was the actual lack of traffic. There should have been more units transmitting than he was hearing.

  Harry pulled the hand mic from the dash clip and said, “Three Edward Six, Central Station.” The respons
e was immediate from the calm female voice.

  “All units, 10-3, all units 10-3 unless emergency traffic.” The calm female voice had just directed all units on air to stop transmitting. “Three Edward Six, please advise current status. One Adam is standing by.”

  “You’re in deep shit now, Harry. The chief wants to talk to you!” Derrick retorted with a snicker.

  21

  One Adam was the Chief of Police’s radio call sign. Harry was almost too excited to reply, but finally said, “Edward Six, with two other officers and secure at Central Station. We will be mobile in about fifteen in the Bearcat.”

  “Edward Six, Adam One, 10-6 to channel …” Harry heard the voice of Chief Greg Ekers, someone he had known during his entire twenty-five-year career, directing him to change radio channels. Glancing over to Frank, Harry nodded once and Frank immediately started programming in the new channel on the Bearcat’s radio system.

  Greg Ekers was a thirty-year career cop who had worked his way up the ladder in the department and was highly respected by the rank and file. He was a no-nonsense police officer and a very effective commander and administrator. Ekers spent as much time in the field with the officers as he did sitting behind a desk. He was able to work and interact very well with the many diverse groups of people who lived and worked in San Francisco. The most surprising attribute Ekers had mastered was the ability to work well with city government which, in and of itself, amazed most people who knew him.

  When Frank acknowledged that the new channel was programmed, Harry said into the mic, “Greg, can you hear me?”