“You could have asked for the damn key.” Anger overwhelmed him. He stood clutching his handgun, fingers turning cherry red because of the tight grip.
“Sorry.” Jodi knew sorry wasn’t good enough. She tried a new tactic. “Lunch is on me. Hungry? Sky’s the limit!”
Her smile warmed him. He relented and returned the smile. “I thought they came back.”
“No, sorry.”
Jodi opened the case and motioned Tammy forward. “Be careful, baby.”
Tammy held tight to her bear. She stood looking at her choices, mulling them over.
“Let me have the bear,” said Jodi.
“No,” said Tammy, clutching tighter. “Wilbur is mine!”
Pierce took a knee. His voice softened. “Ask Wilbur if I can hold him while you get something to eat. Tell him you will need both your hands and it will only take a minute.” His smile was warm and accented with a slight touch of pearly white teeth.
Tammy studied Pierce’s face. After satisfaction was met, she brought Wilbur to her face and looked intently at him, as if talking to Wilbur. She looked at Pierce and handed her security blanket to the man. Jodi thought she would gladly do the same. Pierce had one of those trusting faces.
While Tammy went for treats, Jodi grabbed Pierce and moved out of hearing range of the child. “What happened?”
Pierce stroked the bear as if not wanting to get into a deep conversation. Blue eyes looked at her, softening her for the bad news. “They didn’t believe him, thought he was crazy. Moore is going over their heads.”
“To who?”
“He has a couple buddies on the Bohman. They say the Vice President is on board. He is trying to get a message to him, but it will take time, something is going on that they won’t discuss with him. He is trying, and will get through sooner or later. I know he will.”
The last part brought comfort to Jodi. She took several breaths. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat. No use hollering about it.”
Tammy stuffed a candy bar in each of her front pockets and ate from her bag of potato chips. Her half-red, half-orange tongue flicked chocolate from around the edges of her mouth. A half-eaten bar of candy lay on the floor, her starting place. Jodi moved to the machine and grabbed a bag of potato chips and a Twinkie. She felt thirsty. While Pierce made choices for him and the Sergeant, Jodi looked at the soda machine. She found a bottle of water. “Pierce?”
“Yeah?”
“You got the key to the soda machine?”
“I’ll go get it.” He had two bags of chips in one hand and two candy bars in the other. Wilbur was tucked firmly under an elbow against his side.
“Give me, Wilbur.”
Pierce turned sideways so Jodi could retrieve the bear. After that, he strolled off. Tammy was on the opposite wall. Sitting and eating. Jodi sat next to her. She put Wilbur between them and ate. Minutes later, Pierce returned with the key. He unlocked the machine and tossed them each a bottle of water to wash their meal down with. Pierce joined them on the floor and they ate in silence. What was there to say? They had fought zombies and sooner or later, would have to go into the woods to hunt the rest. Right now, eating and relaxing were enough.
“Well,” said Pierce, after finishing his meal. “Let’s check with Moore and then we have to get after them, before they get too far away.”
“We’ll leave Tammy with him and go. Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Jodi went back to the cabinet to look over the weapons. She needed to be armed to the nines. Only then, would she feel safe going after zombies. Her eyes scanned the weapons. Her father taught her how to shoot at seven. Last year, over the summer, her best friend and roommate, Connie, was attacked. They had both bragged how they would shoot a man between his eyes and not blink. No man would harm them. Unfortunately, Connie was jogging in the park without her weapon. A kind stranger spoiled the attack, but not before she received two souvenirs in the form of shiners. Jodi determined to learn from the lesson. She enrolled in a self-defense class to be able to protect herself if no weapon was available. She felt good about hand-to-hand combat, but preferred a gun if push came to shove.
She stared at the weapons, evaluating what she knew about each. Jodi chose a confiscated AK47 rifle. She grinned: AK-47, the very best there is. When you absolutely, positively, got to kill every motherfucker in the room; accept no substitutes. She smiled, then stuffed a nine millimeter in her right pocket and two extra clips in her left. She grabbed an eight-inch hunting knife and put on an accessory belt to hold her extra clips. She didn’t wear the uniform, but felt like a well-prepared soldier. She turned from side to side, evaluating her mobility. Satisfied, she nodded.
Pierce came alongside. He nodded his approval. He kept his government issued rifle, but gathered extra ammo. He clipped a hunting knife to his accessory belt to complete his look.
“You guys don’t happen to have bulletproof jackets, do you?”
“I wish,” said Pierce. “However, we do have pants.” He grinned.
Jodi left the cabinet. She changed and went to the door to wait for Pierce.
Pierce came into the room and took a step in her direction, then stopped. She looked out the window toward the deep woods. A sensation crept over her. It rose through her feet, wrapping itself around her as if it were the coils of a giant python.
Going in to the woods did not set well with Jodi. Her hands shook. She found it hard to breathe. She caressed her gun for comfort. Like many times in the past, she fought the sensation, forcing it down and out her body. The key: she kept telling herself she had no choice and it had to be done. With a last shudder, the feelings of dread left her. She walked to her partner to urge him into action.
“We have to go, Pierce.”
“I know.” He hesitated about getting started.
Jodi stood in front of him. She looked into his face. He was reverting to a helpless child. “Pierce, come on. If we don’t get in hot pursuit of the zombies, they will spread. You saw what they did here.”
“I know.”
“It didn’t take long for us to get knee deep in these things. We have to move.”
Her sternest effort didn’t deter him from the obvious. “These Zombies are capable of tearing a man limb from limb, literally.”
“I know,” said Jodi.
“I think we should wait for help.” He gulped. “Sergeant Moore will get through and we will get backup. We’ll be able to mow them down in seconds.”
His indecision didn’t faze her. She watched him, staring at him with an intimidating stare. She would make him move. Jodi stood her ground, directly in front of Pierce, rifle next to her chest, clutched tightly. A familiar itch hit her, letting her know she was winning. Her eye contact strengthened, reducing Pierce to a puddle of agreement.
“All right, damn it! Stop staring at me, for god’s sake!”
A smile crossed her lips. She held her rifle and wanted to jump for joy. “Ready?”
“Let’s go.”
Jodi took the lead and led her unwilling accomplice toward the door. She stopped, eyes wide.
Tammy sat on the couch in front of Moore. Her tiny legs dangled, not able to touch the floor. With Wilbur clutched in her arms, she was setting back as far as she could and maintaining eye contact with her rescuers. The little girl stared at Jodi and Pierce, following them with her head. A look on her face said she was afraid. Who wouldn’t be? She watched them while Moore fumbled with the radio, generating nothing but static noise. Frustration crossed his face. He let out a low growl as if he were a zombie.
Jodi saw Tammy. Her heart went out to the small child. The little girl had no idea what was going on or became of her mother and brothers. If she could, Jodi would put her mind at ease. She didn’t know how exactly, but would start with the basics, a smile. She went to Tammy. Her voice was soft, caring. “Hey, Tammy.” She knelt to meet Tammy at eye level.
“Hey,” the voice was more of a whisper, barely audible. She was afraid.
“Pierce and I are going out to find your mommy. You stay here with the Sergeant until we get back. Maybe you can go back and get him something to eat if he gets hungry.” She smiled brightly.
Tammy searched her face. The girl’s mouth was slightly open, ready to speak, yet, not wanting to utter a sound. She clutched Wilbur tighter. “Okay.”
“We locked all the doors and windows in the back. Nothing can get to you in here. You are safer than we will be.”
“You want to stay in here, with me?” Tammy’s little eyes grew wider, waiting for a response, begging with huge brown eyes.
“No, baby, I have to go.”
“We can stay together, in here, where it’s safe.”
If she wasn’t in love with that little face before, Jodi was now. She gave a warm smile to the innocent child. She touched her face, then patted her on her head. Jodi had a sister her age and hated disappointing her. She felt as if she were disappointing her baby sister. Still, she had to, for the greater good. “I wish I could, Tammy. I can’t. I have to help Pierce. When the others come, we will tell them everything we know. I have to be out there to do that. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Stay here. I will get back as soon as I can.”
“Okay.”
That tiny voice, it shook her. With great effort, she gave another smile for encouragement. Jodi rose. She winked at Sergeant Moore.
“Give ‘em hell, private,” said Moore. He strained to sit to look more professional. After wincing, he touched his shoulder and relaxed.
“Don’t worry,” said Jodi, “they’re going to love me.”
Moore chuckled. “They better.” His face grew serious. All traces of laughter vanished. Moore met Jodi’s eyes before glancing at Pierce. He went back to her. “Come back alive.”
Jodi nodded, appreciating him more. With a warm smile to both, she turned and walked out the door. Pierce waved good-bye, then followed.
They followed the direction of travel of the zombies. Carefully, they went into the trees, staying on a dirt trail that took them into the heart of the forest. Overhead, branches moved. They heard small animals playing high in the trees. Jodi looked up to confirm they were only animals. She held her rifle in a tight grip, ready to fire on anything approaching. An image of her father came to her, ‘a gun is your lifeline, more than that, your best friend through thick and thin.’ She clutched her friend tightly for reassurance. Her heart pounded and she repeated to herself the promise she made Tammy. She determined to be safe and make it back to the youngster.
Pierce took the lead when they entered thicker underbrush. He knew the terrain, his backyard. His speed increased, creating a distance between him and Jodi. Every so often, he stopped, listening. Pierce heard something and took off running at a fast clip.
Jodi followed and stopped when he stopped. She crouched. She thought of the zombies in the shed and searched overhead for potential zombies. She watched Pierce move through the trees with a burst of speed. “Wait!” Jodi ran as fast as she could. Pierce raced past low limbs, throwing them out of his way. Each branch slapped Jodi hard across the face. She nearly fell twice, but kept pace. She began to sense their rhythm, catching each branch and knocking it out of her way as she advanced. Her face will look like a whipping post tomorrow, worse if she hadn’t found her running rhythm.
A sound grew louder. A loud scream followed by lower sounds. They were running toward the sounds. Ahead, in a clearing, Pierce dropped to a knee and opened fire. He was screaming, though the rapid fire drowned his voice.
Jodi caught a glimpse of a zombie covering a man. Blood poured across his chest as he fought. Suddenly, both were doing an electric dance.
Jodi ran beside Pierce, dropped, and fired. The zombie and the man danced more on the open ground. Both shooters held on to their machines of death, straining out of control. Each let out a bloodcurdling battle cry, gripping their guns tightly. When all firing ceased, the bodies stopped their dance.
Chapter Twenty-One: Reilly
Reilly sat in the big comfortable chair, swiveling from side to side. He was happy it didn’t squeak—that was craftsmanship. The chair wasn’t his. It was good enough for a ship’s captain, but nowhere good enough for the President of the United States.
A knock came from the door.
“You’re late,” shouted Reilly.
The door opened. A tall thin man came in. A woman followed. Riley hesitated about getting up to greet them. After wrestling with the decision, he rose. He smiled. Walking from behind the desk, he reached a hand to the woman. Keeping her at arm’s length was the plan. Reilly hated when the weaker sex behaved true to form.
“Katherine,” he said.
“Mr. Vice President.”
He read her condescension, but gave a friendly smile. A smile as friendly as his face would allow. He broke the handshake and turned to the man who entered. “We are ready.”
The man shook his hand and opened the door. Motioning to unseen people, he turned back, holding the door wider. A stream of people came into the small room, reducing it to matchbox size. Among the group was his associate, Fanmer. Fanmer walked without looking at him, taking residence among a group of flashing photographers. “Ingrate,” Reilly said under his breath.
“Let’s begin,” said the first man that entered. He held up the Holy Bible. Reilly placed his left hand on the book and raised his right. “Repeat after me: I, state your name.”
“I, Jason Neville Reilly.”
“Do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office President of the United States.”
“Do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States.”
“And will to the best of my ability.”
“And will to the best of my ability.”
“Preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
“Preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States of America.”
“Congratulations, Mr. President.”
Cheers came from the observers. Flashbulbs went off and people frantically talked on cell phones while scribbling on notepads.
President Reilly was glad for the distraction. He had no intentions of thanking Chief Justice Oaks, he hated the man for being the deciding vote to overturn a moral law Reilly and his group managed to pass. That was bad enough, but not getting the pledge right, unforgivable.
“Congratulations, Jason,” said Katherine Connors. She extended her hand.
“Thank you, Katherine,” said Reilly. He gave a pleasant smile, but thought the former First Lady had nerve, insulting him by not calling him Mr. President. “I hope my presidency will honor James.” If she won’t call me President, I won’t call him President. His smile widened, only he knew why.
“Um, yes,” said Katherine. She walked out of the room without further comment.
“Mr. President, Mr. President,” a reporter shouted, waving his hand frantically.
“Yes, Bradley.”
“Sir, will the former First Lady have a role in your administration?”
“No, however, Katherine, Matthew, and Luke will be honored guests at the Vice President’s residence. What happened to President Connors was a tragedy and I intend to get to the bottom of it to give her peace of mind.”
“Will you keep the cabinet intact, sir?”
“Mr. President.” He corrected. “And yes, I will make no changes. The first order of business is to bring these terrorists to justice. They will rue the day they took this action. Their deaths will be a beacon to all those who would act against the United States of America. I will tolerate no dissension on my shores.”
“Mr. President, Mr. President,” several reporters vied for his attention. He responded to none, leaving the room.
The noise of the flashbulbs and questions faded as he made his way down a tight fitting corridor, turning sideways once to allow an indignant soldier to pass. He opened the door and stepped into a
room, shutting it behind him.
Fanmer sat at a small table. Reilly didn’t like the way the man looked at him. Soon, he would have to get rid of him and find another lapdog.
“Good afternoon, Fanmer.”
“Mr. President.”
The words sounded wrong. Reilly gave him a hard look as he sat across from the man. “Where are we on the aftermath?”
Fanmer swallowed hard. He passed a sheet of paper across to President Reilly.
“Good, good,” said Reilly, scanning the sheet. “Round them up and bring them to me. I will make the proclamation from here.”
“Here?”
“Yes,” Reilly said the word harshly. The vein in his forehead pulsed like a second heartbeat. Fanmer cringed under his gaze, lowering his head. “I’m not going to the White House until this is finished. I want my pound of flesh.”
“Yes, sir.”
Reilly gazed at the paper again. His crooked grin was pierced by a flicking tongue. Reilly rose with paper in hand. Fanmer opened his mouth to say something. A sharp look from Reilly silenced him. He watched the new leader of America exit the room. Trouble was brewing.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Pierce
“What do you think,” said Jodi, huffing after her exhaustive firing. She breathed deeply while waiting for his reply.
After a deep breath, Pierce nodded. “I think we got ‘em.”
They cautiously walked toward the bodies. They prodded with the tips of their weapons, neither moved. Pierce slung his rifle over his shoulder and knelt to turn a body. The human male was riddled with bullets, bleeding from all holes, dead to the world.
Pierce looked at the face, wondering who he was. “Poor dude. I bet he had no idea his day would end like this.”
With great care, he turned the zombie. Comparing the two, the zombie had twice as many holes as the man. Secretly, Pierce grinned, he longed to shoot something and this day had provided him with a lifetime of memories. He hated having to shoot the man, but he was dead anyway. Shooting him was a mercy killing. Gazing at the zombie, he frowned. He hadn’t seen it before. It wore no military uniform and therefore was not a soldier from his squad. The bullet-laden face was young, possibly twenty. Pierce was happy he didn’t meet the zombie in a dark alley. He stood.
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