Against Zombies Series | Book 6 | Governments Against Zombies
Page 8
Two rounds from each of us knocked them down, and Hanson prepared to pull out when I could have sworn I heard something.
“Did you hear that?” I looked at the other two sitting carefully down between the gas containers and jugs of water. “There it is.”
Pena motioned for Hanson to cut the truck off, and we all listened carefully.
“That sounds like a baby or little kid crying.” Brewer jumped back to the ground.
Klein and I were only seconds behind him, heading to the back of the building. From the back door of the service station, a small, worn path disappeared into the trees.
The three of us proceeded cautiously in the direction of the cries that were suddenly silenced.
Exchanging a nervous glance, I pushed forward through the brush on either side and came to a small cabin.
Brewer motioned he was going to circle around to the back. Once there, he whistled, and we knocked on the door gently.
“If you’re alive and need help, call out. We’re part of the military.” I didn’t know what else to say that might make a scared kid open the door.
The door creaked open just a sliver to allow us to see inside.
“Can we come in?” I smiled as if there weren’t ZITs wanting to eat our faces off.
The small little boy nodded and pulled the door wider.
Brewer came back around to join us. “This is the only door inside.”
I walked inside, and immediately knew that whatever adult had been here was long gone.
“Do you have a little brother or sister?”
He pointed to what looked like a homemade toy chest with the lid down.
I approached it cautiously and opened it to find a gorgeous little baby girl of about six months.
“What’s her name?” I picked her up, making sure to keep the pacifier in her mouth.
“Jess, and I’m Simon.” He proudly pointed to himself.
“Is your mommy or Daddy here?”
He shook his head, and I looked around the room for something to clean her with. They’d left her without a diaper on, and the blankets she’d been lying on were absolutely filthy.
“Grandpa was here, but he left…” Simon paused to count on his fingers, “…two sleeps ago.”
“I see, and you’ve been taking care of your little sister, haven’t you?” He couldn’t be more than four, but I saw an empty can of formula on the table.
“Yep.” He proudly stood up straighter. “She has to be quiet so the bad things don’t come get us.”
Nodding to show I understood, I found a diaper bag with clean clothes and a partial can of formula. Wipes were in the side, and I laid her on the bed so I could quickly get her clean and diapered. She would need a bath at some point, but we needed to keep moving.
Handing the can to Brewer, I ordered, “Have him show you how to make a bottle and grab a few things.”
Brewer looked like he was going to faint, and I hid the laugh that threatened to slip out. A Marine afraid of making a baby’s bottle was priceless.
Simon reappeared in minutes with a small backpack over his shoulder.
“We should tell Grandpa that we’re leaving so that he doesn’t worry.” He looked over my shoulder to make sure I was doing it properly.
“You’re right.” I put the diaper under her little hiney and gave Brewer a look.
“Sure, I’d love to write a note. Got any paper and pens, kid?” he huffed, making his way over to the table.
Simon brightened and went over to a cabinet, pulling out crayons and blank paper.
“That’s it, kid,” he commended.
I slid the only clean outfit on the baby and wrapped her up in the quilt that was folded by the bed. As I slung the diaper bag over one shoulder and adjusted my gun on the other, I took the bottle and put it in the bag for later.
“Ready?” I scanned the room for anything else I might need last minute, but it was hardly more than a shack. If their grandfather came back, he could follow us, but I had a feeling he had gotten into trouble, and we were these kids’ last hope.
“Simon, would you like a piggyback ride?” Brewer seemed to be thawing out just a little bit. When Simon’s head bobbed up and down, he swung him up and onto his back. “Now, you’ve got to hold on tight and keep your eyes closed.”
He might have been a little worried about a baby, but he was doing great with the little boy.
We moved out the door, and Klein kept an eye out, making sure that no one snuck up on us from behind.
Pena and Hanson were standing outside of the truck, leaning against it like they didn’t have a care in the world. Anyone who knew what a Marine was capable of, wouldn’t be fooled for a minute.
“Look what they brought us. We’re going to have to be on the lookout for a larger vehicle. I don’t think we should put the kid in the back with the gasoline.” Pena shook his head at me. “Softy.”
“I couldn’t just leave them there, could I?”
“Nah, you did the right thing. We’re just going to have to keep them quiet.” He held the door open for Simon. “Think you can hold the baby while we look out for the bad guys?”
“Yes, sir.” He gave a little salute and slid down Brewer’s back before racing to the truck.
I grinned and handed Pena the diaper bag. “There’s a bottle in there if she gets fussy. Don’t lose that pacifier. It’s what’s kept her quiet until we started shooting.”
Hanson waited until we were all situated, and then started the truck, finally pulling out of the service station.
This was going to be one hell of a trip to Nashville.
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The country roads kept us from encountering many of the large groups of wandering hordes of infected. Even so, we had about an hour before sunset when Hanson pulled into a small town. We began to search for a place to hole up for the night.
What would have been a six-hour trip with no stops had turned into a rescue mission. None of the guys seemed happy with the two kids, but they wouldn’t have left them behind either.
A small little set of homes with privacy fences around each yard seemed like our best bet.
Hanson, taking his lead from Pena, backed into an open garage, staying in the cab while the rest of us checked the house for occupants.
Klein went around and shut the garage door manually so that we didn’t attract unwanted attention.
Pena lifted the sleeping baby from Simon, and I leaned in and picked up the little boy to carry him inside.
We sat them on the couch in the living room and moved toward the kitchen to talk.
“I hate to have us split up, but the baby is going to need formula. A few of the houses we passed had toys outside, so we might get lucky,” I suggested, knowing it was a long shot, but the best we had at the moment.
“They look like they were on the verge of starvation. Simon mentioned that he’d been giving her a bottle with sugar water in between the milk bottles. He’s actually five, and really smart for his age. I don’t think they’ve had much for the past few days, or even before the grandfather left.” Hanson frowned at the thought of them going hungry for so long.
“At least that means we don’t have to worry about them complaining if we run out, but I’d like to see what we can come up with.” I looked at Pena, waiting for his response.
“It’s our best bet. Cooper,” he began, “What should we call you now that you’re hiding?”
“McCarthy, or Mac,” I replied.
“All right, Mac. I think you’re the one that should go with Klein and Hanson to look around the houses on this block. Use your knives unless it’s absolutely necessary. Hanson has a radio to call back on if something happens. Watch your six out there,” Pena instructed.
We left by the back yard and pulled the picnic table over to the fence so we could scan the area. It made seeing which house had kid’s stuff easier, and would allow us to move into a safe area quickly.
“That one about three houses up has qu
ite a few toys. Let’s start there first.” I pointed, and we easily hopped down onto the other side of the fence.
After the third one, I was exhausted. I’d forgotten how much practice and training went into this kind of mission. Even with a couple of hours a week at the gym, it still wasn’t quite the same kind of exercise as what we were currently doing.
The sliding door was unlocked and we entered cautiously. Nothing moved inside, and there was plenty of evidence that children lived here—or rather, had lived here.
We cleared each room and closet, but it was in the kitchen pantry that we hit the motherlode. Stuffed into the back were three unopened cans of formula, and about twenty jars of baby food.
Hanging on a hook were several recyclable cloth bags. I grabbed one and started to fill it with all the things this little girl was going to need.
Klein appeared behind me with two boxes of diapers, placing them on the counter. “Looks like they left in a hurry, but these were in the closet. Do you want to take them all?”
“Yes, and we’re going to need some food for tonight. Find anything that can be eaten without having to cook it. I’ll go see if there are some clothes for the little thing to wear. Babies go through more clothes and diapers than you can possibly imagine.” I handed him the bag with all the things I’d collected and went to switch places.
“Can’t believe we found this stuff so easily.” Hanson joined us after checking out the other parts of the house.
“I wouldn’t call it easy. Raising that kid is going to take a lot of work, but if the Nashville group did what they were supposed to, then it’ll get a lot better when we get there,” I called over my shoulder.
Our collection was too large to throw over the fences on the way back, so I had improvised and borrowed the small wagon from the garage and filled it with most of the stuff. I could reach my weapon quickly, and our arms weren’t full in case the ZITs discovered us.
I shouldn’t have jinxed us like that, because no sooner had we closed the door and started back, a group appeared, roaming toward us.
Leaving the wagon with our haul, I pulled the knife out of its holster.
“Now or never, I guess,” Hanson said, following suit.
There were only five of the ZITs, but up close, they were fearsome looking.
We split up and drew them off to each side so that we would have enough time to take them down.
Fighting the reflex to close my eyes as I plunged the blade into one of their brains, I could see the last little bit of the person inside die out. I couldn’t dwell on it, thought, because another one was almost on me.
I shoved a hand toward its chest and tried not to gag when it sunk inward. The momentum sent it back far enough that I could get my knife ready. The second time was easier, but I had a feeling that by the time we made it to Nashville, this was going to be a common occurrence.
Klein and Hanson had also dispatched their guys, but more were starting to gather at the end of the street.
“We need to get back inside before those things make it down here,” I urged, my hands dripping with the ZITs blood.
The closest house had a small plant stand with water from the last rain in it. Dashing my hands through the water quickly, I wiped the knife on the ground as best I could while keeping an eye on how fast they were coming.
They had followed my example, and we hurried to get the wagon into the garage before the ZITs were upon us.
We weren’t going to be able to clean up every time we encountered those things, but at least this time we could make an effort.
“Did you find something?” Pena met us at the door of the garage, but his voice dropped to a whisper as the motion of the ZITs outside caught his attention.
I nodded silently, and he helped move the items from the wagon into the house.
Jess and Simon were both still asleep on the couch as I slid past them to watch from the large window in the front room with large blinds covering them.
This was a larger group of twenty-ish people that continued to move on past the house and closer to the city center.
“How many of those groups do you reckon are just wandering around out there?” Brewer had joined us as we watched.
“More than we want to deal with when we aren’t using guns,” Klein spoke up next to me.
“Do you think we’ll be okay here with the kids for the night?” Brewer whispered with a nervous glance back to the children.
“It’s much safer here than trying to drive farther, and then we run into one of those groups in the middle of the night. As long as we keep giving her a bottle, she’ll stay quiet. They’re both so tired, I’m not sure they’ll even wake up before morning hits anyway.” I looked at the poor little dears and was hit with a wave of homesickness. I wanted to be with my own family. Trevor was so cute when he was asleep. Otherwise, he could be a little terror as he outgrew the terrible twos, only to morph into the horrible threes.
“Grubs ready, or what I could make with the stuff that’s here. The gas is still running, so it’s going to be hot food tonight, gentlemen,” Brewer crowed quietly.
“Pena, you and the others go ahead. I’ll keep watch here and make sure the kids don’t wake up.” I waved them into the kitchen with the warm food.
“What about Simon? I’m sure he’s hungry as well.” Brewer looked at the little guy resting so peacefully.
“I think the best thing is to let him sleep. He’ll wake up when he’s ready. Watching over a baby for days probably hasn’t been easy for a boy his age.” My heart broke to think about how many children were out there alone or dead because they didn’t have anyone to watch over them.
“You’re right. I can heat him up something later.” Brewer went back to the kitchen with the others.
The sun was going down as I turned back to the windows, the streetlights coming on like clockwork. There were a few things that continued even when the world went crazy. Hopefully, we could restore enough order that we wouldn’t lose all of the modern conveniences. Survival was going to be difficult enough without trying to have fresh water and electricity. We’d grown accustomed to those items, and it would be a tough habit to break.
Chapter 11
Martin
News of Cooper’s demise reached me pretty quickly, considering most of the ways to communicate with others were down.
The report was simply an update, but I knew that all hope of anyone surviving this plague had died with him.
Amazingly, the Master Chief himself showed up with the empty trucks.
“Oh my goodness,” I gushed as I rushed out to meet him. “I just heard that Cooper didn’t make it, as well as the president. The Vice-President is now in charge as President. I’m so thankful that there’s someone I know still alive.”
“I’m a little difficult to keep down, even in the middle of an apocalypse.” He gave me a wink and motioned the trucks into place to be loaded.
“Does this mean you’re going to need more serum? Can you still use it to stop this thing?” I needed to hear that there was hope out there for our future.
“Yes. Iif anything, we’re going to need as much as possible in the coming weeks. The country has only been under siege for a week. It’s going to take longer than that before we collapse due to a virus.” He shook his head at my obvious doubt. “You should really have more faith and stop believing all the things you hear these days.”
“You mean that people aren’t dead or that we’re doomed?”
He laughed. “Both. Just because you hear something doesn’t make it so. Since Cooper isn’t running things anymore, I’ve been given the go ahead to take over. You’ll be getting all of your orders from me now. Unless someone gives you the code word Operation Patchwork, followed by a color, then they aren’t working for the right team.”
“There are teams? Are we working against the government?” My mind was full of all sorts of horrible thoughts. Had I been working with people trying to overthrow my own government? I neve
r meant for that to happen. What if I was the reason that all of this had started in the first place because I’d somehow managed to start a horrible chain of events?
“Hey, relax. It’s better than everyone only looking out for themselves. This is something that was set up a long time ago. You helped by making sure that large portions of the population were vaccinated so that they don’t turn into ZITs,” he hurried to assure me, probably thinking I was about to fall over and faint.
Maybe I was, because the world was spinning around me. This wasn’t what I wanted when I thought of the world ending due to the virus. I’d spent so many years trying to get these vaccinations out that it didn’t seem possible that there were any people left that hadn’t been vaccinated.
He took my arm and steered me over to one of the picnic tables employees used on their breaks.
“Sit,” he ordered.
“Who did you think you were working for all these years?”
“Uh…” I cleared my throat. “The United States of America and you, with whatever group you’re with. I just knew that we couldn’t stop making that many vaccinations. With almost eleven to twelve thousand babies born each day, it’s overwhelming to think about ever catching up.”
“Just think about the fact that we’ve been using 400,000 vaccines each month on adults. There’s a larger section of the U.S. that have been vaccinated. You’ve made a difference whether you want to believe that or not,” he tried to comfort me.
“That may be so, but I’ve betrayed my government in doing so.”
He smiled. “I wouldn’t say that. More like, your government betrayed lots of people by not keeping them from getting the virus. This is a preventable disease now, and all the problems here could have been avoided if they’d upped the production and put it on both coasts. We aren’t an anti-government group, but more like helping them behind the scenes. Helping them help themselves with a touch of gray so that we didn’t have to work with the red tape so often associated with this kind of decision.”
I rubbed at my eyes, trying not to cry at his words.
“What’s the next step? How can we make sure this virus isn’t hurting more people?”