Floyd & Mikki (Book 2): Zombie Slayers (Dawn of the Living)

by Tatner, Joseph

  Mikki found another command to expand the view. The map switched to an expanded globe, with red dots appearing in other countries, as well. Those dots started multiplying and growing before the USA was covered in red. The two sat in stunned horror, witnessing how the outbreak had conquered the world. Any hopes of anyone overseas coming to their aid were clearly unfounded—not that they had any such hopes to begin with. The map confirmed what they had known in their hearts, all along.

  They were on their own.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Within about 20 minutes, Mikki had figured out enough of the user interface to bring up maps for anywhere in the world. There was even a satellite option, enabling her to zoom right in to any location. The only problem was, they couldn’t be sure if the images were recent or two years old. She did find something that seemed to be promising, though. A camp of some sorts was only about 50 miles away. If the satellite images were recent enough, it meant there was another small pocket of survivors nearby.

  Mikki printed out a number of maps of the surrounding area for Floyd, including a route to the newly discovered camp. She also printed out maps of the nearby town. In one, she zoomed in on a route to the hospital, which wasn’t far past the outer boundary. The satellite images even had all the buildings labeled, although there was no mistaking the hospital, with its helipad and a big red cross on the roof. There was even a helicopter up there, but neither Floyd nor Mikki knew how to fly one.

  Leaving the mobile Comm Center, Mikki used a can of red spray paint to tag the outside with their logo before the two investigated the rest of the camp. None of the trailers or large canvas tents had any markings, and everything was flat black in color. No army green or camouflage was to be seen, which seemed a bit odd for a military base. One large tent had obviously been a barracks, but was devastated inside. With no solid door to keep out the Super Zs when they turned, whoever was in there at the time had been ripped to pieces. Body parts and remnants of shredded sleeping cots were strewn everywhere. Many had probably turned while they were sleeping in their bunks, then they went on a rampage.

  One trailer sat in front of a number of tables and benches that were sitting under a tarp. Surprisingly, it was still intact, offering shade and shelter to nonexistent outdoor diners. The trailer, of course, was a well-stocked mobile diner. The multimillion-dollar military version of a mobile roach coach.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!”

  “What is it, now, Floyd?”

  “Do you like hamburgers?”

  “I did, before the world went all to shit. Why?”

  Floyd held up a plastic pouch he had pulled from a freezer. “’Cause we got hamburgers, baby!”

  “No shit! Really?” Mikki asked, all excited.

  “Really! Flash frozen and vacuum sealed!”

  Mikki had never seen Floyd smile that big in all the time she had known him. Well, not out of bed, anyway.

  “Maybe we got meat, but it ain’t a hamburger without buns.”

  Floyd opened a cupboard door and stepped back, gesturing with his hand for her to take a look. There were stacks and stacks of various bread products in sealed packages. One stack had packages labeled “Hamburger Buns.”

  “Ha! You try one first. I’m still get sick thinkin’ ‘bout them damn oyster crackers.”

  Floyd laughed and popped open a bag. He took a big bite. “We had these in when I was in the Army,” he explained. “They ain’t as soft as a regular bun, and the bread is made a little different, but I never appreciated ‘em before as much as I do now!”

  He tore off a chunk and passed it to Mikki. She took it reluctantly. It looked like bread, but felt a little weird. She, sniffed it, examined it, and eventually took a bite. Much better than two-year old stale oyster crackers.

  “Hey, these are good. A little weird, but good enough to throw a burger on.”

  “Let’s get grillin’!”

  Floyd lit the propane grill, and five minutes later they were munching on “fresh” hamburgers. When loaded with some kind of ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise substitute, pickles and non-dairy cheese product, the buns didn’t taste weird at all. The two were in heaven. Cheeseburger in Paradise.

  They ate seated at one of the benches. Floyd used a couple of cold water bottles to make some kind of limeaid with beverage powder. For a few brief minutes, it was like the world had suddenly turned normal.

  When they were done, Mikki opened the door to one of the freestanding porta-potties. She was greeted by the gaping mouth of a time-ravaged corpse. It damn near fell on her. What a helluva way to die! She grabbed the thing, threw it out on the ground and stepped inside to do her business. When you gotta go, you gotta go. Floyd took the one next to her, which was unoccupied.

  Returning to the task at hand, they found a fairly empty supply trailer, the admin trailer, commander’s quarters (complete with the commander—long dead), and a large trailer that was half-filled with unopened MREs. Floyd stood their gaping. Mikki didn’t understand his fascination with MREs, but they made him happy, so she accepted it.

  “We are definitely marking this on the map. Don’t you go blowin’ up this place, Mikki, you hear?”

  “Are you kidding? Wouldn’t dream of it. At least, not until all the hamburgers run out.”

  The two put their helmets back on and continued their exploration. As they walked along the perimeter, a sudden loud banging noise made them both jump. Holding up their shotguns, they scanned the area rapidly for any immediate danger.

  The noises were coming from a trailer on the edge of the camp. The closer they got, the louder, more frequent and more urgent the banging became. Something inside—or rather several somethings—were desperately trying to get out. The door handle kept turning up and down, incessantly.

  Normally, the trailers locked from the inside, but this one was different. This one had a metal bar welded on over the door and was sealed with a heavy padlock. Whoever the welder was had wanted the contents to stay inside the trailer.

  “I give ya three guesses what’s in there, Floyd.”

  “I only need one. Real question is, how many are in there?”

  “You gonna let ‘em out, aintcha?”

  “Only way to make sure they won’t become a problem is to kill ‘em.”

  “Alright. Cain’t be more than a dozen in there. Trailer ain’t that big.”

  “I reckon only two or three. Not enough banging from inside to be a dozen.”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out. You get the door. Shoot ‘em in the back as they come out and I’ll shoot ‘em in the front.”

  “Right!”

  “You gonna shoot off the lock, or should I?”

  “No need.” Floyd reached around the corner and pulled a ring off a hook. He held it up to show Mikki. It had one key dangling from it.

  “Convenient,” Mikki said.

  Sure enough, the key fit the padlock. A quick flip of the bar and the door was free. Only moments later it burst open.

  Four Super Zs emerged from the metal prison, and they were pissed! Fortunately, none of them were armored. In fact, they were all in their underwear. Military gray underpants and brown T-shirts. Skin was peeling off every limb and half their faces were all gone, but they all still had those horrible, drippy eyes and mouths.

  They moved so fast, it was hard to aim, so Mikki just started firing rapidly in their general direction. Floyd tried a different approach and shot at their legs. One of them lost a femur and stumbled before catching itself. That gave Floyd enough time to blow the other leg off above the knee.

  Mikki managed to blow the head off of one as it turned around to see where it was. Another tripped over the body of the Super that Floyd had deprived of its legs. It caught its balance, dove over the body of its fallen buddy, executed a perfect summersault and came back up onto its feet. It stood up just in time to meet the barrel of Mikki’s shotgun, but didn’t have enough time to say goodbye to its face before Mikki pulled the trigger.
<
br />   The last one took a flying leap at Mikki, who deftly dodged to the right out of its way. It swept a leg at Mikki’s ankles but she jumped out of the way. After taking a shotgun blast in the back from Floyd, it turned and leapt straight at him. Floyd blew it away at the neck as it sailed in his direction.

  “Well, that went well,” Floyd commented, noting the bodies on the ground.

  “Don’t forget yer creepy crawly,” Mikki reminded him, pointing to the torso that was rapidly scuttling in Floyd’s direction, dragging itself along with its hands. Floyd jammed Clyde’s barrel right in the creature’s mouth and pulled the trigger.

  “What creepy crawly?” he asked.

  “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

  Mikki led the way into the trailer. It seemed a lot bigger on the inside. From the looks of the equipment and debris, it had been some sort of medical facility.

  Nearly everything had been smashed. Computers, medicine cabinets, syringes, medical lighting—everything was in shattered pieces on the ground. There were 10 overturned medical gurneys, all fitted with heavy metal straps. Six still had corpses firmly attached, but four were empty with the straps ripped open. No doubt, that’s where the four Super Zs had been inadequately restrained. The remains of several doctors and nurses in white lab coats with old, dark brown bloodstains were strewn about the place as well.

  The two were just about to leave when Mikki noticed something in the corner. She picked it up and inspected it. She flipped a latch and opened the lid. It turned out to be a laptop that had been ruggedized to withstand rain, weather, drops from high places, and other punishment. Including zombies.

  Floyd laughed. “Leave it to you to find the only working computer in here,” he quipped. “What games you think you’re gonna find on that one?”

  “I ain’t lookin’ for games, Floyd. Flip up that gurney for me, will ya? Looks like it’ll stand up OK”

  Floyd did as he was asked, and Mikki set the laptop on it. She hit the button, but nothing happened.

  “Maybe it ain’t as rugged as it looks,” Floyd suggested.

  “Nah, this thing looks like it could withstand a grenade. More likely the battery drained over the years. I bet there’s a power supply around here somewheres.”

  Sure enough, after about five minutes of hunting through shards of broken medical vials, pieces furniture, and body parts, Mikki found what she was looking for. She plugged one end into the laptop and the other into a wall socket. A tiny light started to glow on the lid.

  Mikki smiled. She hit the power button, and this time the laptop screen lit up. She was greeted with a very interesting question, “Restore from hibernate?” Mikki traced her finger along the built-in mouse pad and tapped to select “yes.”

  Someone had been trying to send a message with several attachments. A button at the bottom of the screen read, “Send.” Whatever was in the message, it had never been sent. Mikki started reading the email and opened all the attachments, one by one.

  “Holy shit!” she said eventually.

  “What’s up?”

  “Floyd, it wasn’t no accident these military guys showed up here! This whole damn town was a lab! They was doin’ experiments on the zombies here. This was part of the research to try and find a cure.”

  “Just our luck to run into the only place in the USA where they decided to experiment on brain-eaters.”

  “Not really. Looks like they had at least 29 camps, because the email signature is from ‘Desert Station Zebra, Project Bokor 29.’ I don’t know what ‘Bokor’ means, but it seems pretty clear the town next door here is number 29. Must be a bunch o’ these little nowhere towns tucked away all over the US. The research is fascinating!”

  “You mean you understand all those numbers and diagrams?”

  “I ain’t no doctor, Floyd!” Mikki snapped, “But I ain’t stupid, neither. I can figure out a lot of it. And it don’t take a rocket scientist to read this email and figure out they had no idea what they was doin.’ They were tryin’ everything to find an answer as soon as possible. They never found one, but there’s a whole lotta data on this laptop.”

  Mikki sat back and looked at the screen. After thinking a bit, she moved the mouse curser and clicked Send.

  “What’d you do that for?” Floyd asked.

  “Who knows? Maybe somebody’s still out there. Maybe this information will help. Maybe someone will answer back. I don’t know, but it don’t seem like it can do much harm.”

  Mikki powered down the laptop and put it in her backpack, along with the power cord. If nothing else, maybe they could raid a computer store and pick up some games she could add to it later. And who knows? Maybe they might run into someone someday who could make some real sense out all the data on the laptop.

  “Doc!” Mikki shouted. “Duh, Floyd! I bet doc could make more sense of this research.”

  “Good idea. We’ll show it to him when we get back. If you’re done in here, we still got a couple more trailers to check.”

  “Right. Hope we find some more grenades!”

  “Damn, girl! Don’t you ever have enough grenades?”

  “Floyd! A girl can never have enough grenades!”

  He laughed. Mikki was one of a kind.

  Chapter Forty

  The next couple of trailers were pretty useless. They found a Supply Records tent, administration office, and Human Resources records trailer. One small recreation trailer had a large-screen television in it. There was no signal on any of the channels and there was no Netflix connection, but there were a number of movie disks that Mikki scooped up, once she found they would play in the disk drive of her new laptop. She also found some more audio CDs that also played in the laptop, including Grenade by Bruno Mars. The lyrics didn’t really apply to Mikki but she loved the title (of course). She ran out of spray paint on the last trailer, so it read “F+N.” She threw the can away.

  The last trailer was heavily fortified. This one had two metal bars over it with special locks. No keys were hanging from a hook, this time, though. It took two anti-armor rounds from Bonnie to finally blow each of the two locks off. When they opened the door, they knew why. It was the armory.

  There was a cage just inside, with a sliding metal-framed window of bullet-proof glass. A dried out corpse sat in the chair behind the glass. The window slid open, but it was too small for Mikki to fit through. She reached in and felt around to see if there was a button under the desk to open the door on their left. Nothing. Then she had an idea. Reaching in with the butt end of Bonnie, she managed to snag the back of the chair the corpse was in. The chair was on rollers, so it was fairly easy to pull it closer. Mikki reached in through the window again and snatched the badge off the dead clerk’s uniform.

  “Bingo!” she shouted, looking at the back of the badge. There was a black magnetic stripe along one side. She slid it through a card reader next to the door and the lock snapped open. She was as happy as a kid in a candy store.

  Everything was marked. Along the left wall were boxes and boxes of ammunition, including more antipersonnel and anti-armor rounds that would fit Bonnie and Clyde! There were 9mm antipersonnel rounds for the Mini Uzis and special ammo for her sniper rifle. In addition to boxes of ammo, Floyd grabbed a high-powered military sniper rifle for himself, to replace the one he had lost to the Super Z back at the navy base. He would load up the Doom Buggy and come back for more ammunition.

  On the right were dozens of cases, each holding weapons of some kind. There were tactical shotguns, machine guns, large 50-cal weapons, and a wide assortment of small cases with handguns. Floyd decided to switch out some of the pistols he had been carrying with newer models and took a number of high-capacity magazines for each as well, to fill his bandoleer. Mikki did the same.

  There was a lot of other fun stuff to play with, but not much was of practical use. One case held a prototype rail gun. According to the manual, it could fire a depleted uranium projectile through a dozen concrete walls or armor plates
up to a mile away. Pretty cool, but totally useless for killing a crowd of zombies, and way too heavy to carry on your back.

  Another couple dozen cases held portable grenade launchers. At first, Mikki got all excited, but they were bulky, heavy, and only held a maximum of six rounds. Again, thoroughly impractical. There were several grenade launcher attachments for machine guns that could have been fitted to the Mini Uzis, and there were several machine guns pre-fitted with grenade launcher attachments, but none of these really seemed worth trading for their current weaponry.

  Floyd did find a decent solution for the Doom buggy, however. A rather small, tripod-mounted, belt-fed, automatic 40mm grenade launcher. Each belt held 50 grenades. A devastating shrapnel/incendiary grenade combination seemed especially promising. He promised Mikki he’d mount it on the back of the Doom Buggy later.

  Mikki found a few more missile launchers like the ones from the Groverstown nuclear facility. They were bulky, but would no doubt come in handy someday. They planned to drag four of them back to the Doom Buggy to store in the back seat with her.

  Way in the back, tucked sideways into a corner, were 12 boxes that they almost missed. The little label on the shelf just said “Blockbuster.” Mikki yanked one down and flipped the lid. When she was what was inside, she almost flipped her own lid. There was a small launcher of some sort inside. About half the size of the other missile launchers, but apparently far more powerful.

  “Damn, Floyd! You know what these are? These are those nuke grenades that colonel told us about back in NCH!”

  “The ones that wipe out a city block?”

  “Yeah! These must be what they were usin’ in Anaheim and other places we seen.” She devoured the manual in record time, scrutinizing and memorizing every detail. “Get a load of this. There’s a laser sensor that won’t let you fire it at anything that’s too close. The warhead has its own guidance system, too. It takes a picture of where you want it to land and guides itself there. Holy crap! I’m definitely bringin’ me some o’ these!”