by Bonds, Javan
“Roger. Ironman. Over and out.” I’m guessing my dad fist pumped at even more unneeded proof that Easy was the good son.
You know, I just realized my mother didn’t say “I love you” to me. Shit, I didn’t even get to speak to her! She probably had a personal conversation with every member of the crew before I got up here. But God forbid if she’s going to come back into the room an acknowledge one of her offspring. I could only be killed by this time tomorrow. I’m thankful my family is so loving.
☠☠☠
31
Sako’s Journal Three
Our Humvee was barreling across the causeway, headed back to the island refuge of Guntersville. The three of us just finished another failed search for missing children. There was reason to believe now that they might have been abducted by a snatcher other than the peevies. I, or at least, the people in this truck, only had just been given reason to suspect this. No one else had even an inkling of suspicion that it could be an islander.
Buzzing, the radio crackled. “Sako?” That Navy pilot, Benji Collins, must have seen the Humvee.
I leaned forward, placing my chin on the dash and looking up. Benji had been using the MH 60 Seahawk he and his copilot recently acquired to make scouting/rescue missions. Catching sight of the gray whirly bird racing South over the island, I smiled and clicked my radio. “You caught me. What’s up? Over.” Being a military veteran, I was forced to use at least a little proper radio lingo, even though I was out of the habit.
“We’re going to look for the missing twins. They were reported to have accompanied their parents on another scouting mission to the top of the mountain earlier this week. Want to come along?” There was no way he would’ve known the three of us were returning from another failed rescue attempt. Nor did he have reason to suspect there was any possibility the children could’ve been abducted by a human.
Instinctually knowing how I would react, Mahatma was already gently applying the brakes. Given any opportunity to discover the whereabouts of lost kids, my comrades knew I wouldn’t be able to refuse the chance. No matter how tired I was. Sitting up straight, I blinked a few times and then exhaled slowly. “If you can set down on the causeway, I’ll take a ride.”
“Ten-four. Wait one.” He came back.
Sighing, I looked over to The Phantoms. “The two of you can get some R&R. They will be enough backup. You guys could use the break.”
The green Trooper spoke from the rear bench. “So could you, sir!”
I shrugged. “Yeah, but y’all can get it for me. All three of us don’t need to be disappointed again. Get some sleep.” To cease any argument, I made sure to add. “That’s an order!”
The Clone Troopers begrudgingly sounded in unison. “Sir, yes sir!”
I stepped out as Doshi came to a complete stop. Both HITs saluted from inside the vehicle and were off. Hand on my Fedora, I lowered my head as Skywalker came in for a landing.
Climbing inside, I took in the four-person crew. Benji, wearing his customary hat and bombers jacket. Devin Landers, his copilot, sat behind the chopper stick dressed in biker leathers. A blonde girl I was becoming more accustomed to seeing, Amy Rice, filled out a red leotard accented with black leather accessories. It was later revealed to me Benji’s love interest was outfitted as Elektra. Lastly, a civilian I had seen a couple times sporting the garb of Captain America, Robert Coe, finished up the quartet.
Suited up as Rorschach, I finished up this strange ensemble of comic book characters, complete with the obligatory blotted mask in my pocket. Getting Benji’s attention with a nod, I screamed over the engines. “Where we going?”
After gesturing for me to wait, he reached up front and brought back another headset. He explained the family had taken part in a secondary scouting mission into Cracker Barrel. With effort, I made sure not to arch my eyebrows when he mentioned that Brother Brown had lead this secondary scouting mission. Taking his followers to locations in nearly friendly territory would be a great way for him to get close to his targets. Had it happened at this restaurant we were going to? At the Lodge? Why had this not been pieced together before?
☠☠☠
Landers was able to set the chopper down in the completely barren Cracker Barrel parking lot. Being so close to our sanctuary, every vehicle had been salvaged and moved to the gas bank. In other words, the expansive parking lot of the Lakeview Shopping Mall near Guntersville Island.
Eerily, a windblown garbage bag was the only welcoming we received.
Why was this building completely abandoned? It was on the mountain, a few miles south of Guntersville; there was also absolutely no human activity in the vicinity. No structure not within spitting distance of the island had become property used by the living for much of anything. Whether by necessity or underlying fear of zombie attacks, uninfected people chose to remain as safe as possible. Maybe this business and the surrounding area would one day soon be repopulated.
Inactive it may have been, but there obviously was activity here recently and fairly often. All developed area within miles of our bastion had been pillaged so often that there was rarely anything worthy of reclaiming. It was the ideal circumstances for the leader of our alleged scouting missions to get close with his abductees. The cult patriarch doubtfully expected these ventures to be fruitful. He just needed time with as few prying eyes as possible while he toys with his victims. It was a sickening realization.
Every Cracker Barrel I have ever been to in my entire life had a line of rocking chairs on the front porch; from one end to the other. It gave me pause not to see the typical line of wooden furniture as we moved into the gift shop area of the restaurant. Of course, these were salvaged probably on one of the first raids of this place, but it was still somewhat off-putting. The outside of the structure appeared impeccably clean, not a speck of feces.
“Well,” Benji rubbed his gloved hands together, “doesn’t look like any blunatics have been around here lately.”
“Blunatics?” was my question.
Shrugging, the NFO offered as he entered the building. “Gene’s word. Makes sense.”
Gene, the comic book guy; I agreed, it did make sense either way. This word would have to become part of my vernacular.
An insignificant amount of anything remained anywhere in the building. In the immortal words of Spaceballs “We ain't found shit!” Every scrap of food, nearly every worthless souvenir, and even most furniture not bolted to the floor had been taken. It was almost laughable to think a shepherd could lead his flock here with hopes of finding anything substantial. Truth only became more apparent to me with each of these revelations. Some sequential evidence was strikingly obvious, and it wasn’t the slightest bit funny.
☠☠☠
Typical restaurants can be deceptively massive. Patrons are only aware the front half of the building exists. They don’t usually spend any time thinking about the back half, used primarily for cooking and storage, let alone actually stepping foot in those areas.
The entire seating area was spotless; clean of any sign of the monsters. No footprints, bones or droppings. There was never anything for the peevies to be interested in there. All food was surely gone, but the kitchen would undoubtedly offer at least some sign of activity.
☠☠☠
The tile floors of the kitchens had clearly been trudged upon by several individuals recently and for a considerable amount of time. Booted feet left most marks, so it was safe to assume the area had remained free of zombie incursions. No room we entered revealed a single thing worth taking.
It was doubtful the last scouting mission to this business came away with much. Even the lighting and wiring had been stripped out. If it wasn’t being used on the island currently, it definitely would be. Nothing went to waste any longer.
Is anything being created? Are we just using up what we have and not preparing for the future? Will the next generation just be using things from the old world until there was nothing left? I understand frugality and not being wasteful
, but most modern commodities aren’t renewable. Of course, it may not be high-tech, but humans will have to create to make any kind of advancement or even continue at our current pace. Maybe they eventually would, and I’m over thinking about it. I'm a cop, not a professor, damn it.
Benji broke me from my thoughts. “Why the fuck would anyone come here? The stoves are even gutted!”
Shrugging, I had to agree. The last search party to scavenge here was definitely disappointed. Only the pilot, his girlfriend, and I were in this kitchen. Landers and Coe were scouring one of the other empty cooking areas, so I figured now would be the best time to bring my suspicions up about Brother Brown. “You know when you picked me up, we were returning from a failed search at the State Park lodge. The girls weren’t there, but we did find some other interesting clues...”
☠☠☠
Devin pointed his flashlight at the floor, running the beam as if the light was chasing something. He made a noise of surprise and questioned Robert. “Did you see that?”
The man dressed as Captain America squinted, attempting to see through the gloom. “What was it?”
“Not sure, but I think it went under there.” Devin gestured with his light to the crack between a standing refrigerator/freezer and the floor.
Robert dropped down flat on the cold tile, shining his flashlight into the tiny space. The area to each side of the unit was bare, so there wasn’t an abundance of space for anything to hide. From the look of the untouched layer of dust under this Frigidaire, absolutely nothing had been underneath it for a long time.
“Was it a bug? A rat? What the hell did you see? Are you sure you saw something? Doesn’t seem to be...”
Robert couldn’t figure out why this refrigerator was still there. “You’d think it would’ve been taken with everything else.” Before standing back up, he noticed a rubber seal in the wall at the back of the fridge. Scooting on his chest closer to the object of his focus, he realized it was a wall-mounted icebox. “So that’s why it wasn’t taken!”
Upon closer inspection, Robert discovered it wasn’t actually on the wall; it was on a set of hinges. “This fridge is on a door. That’s strange.” The superhero moved to the side of the large chest, searching for a knob or handle. After finding one, he pulled the previously unseen entry open to its limit.
The door came open to reveal a large, walk-in freezer, completely unmolested since at least May Day. Airtight for such a time, the cloud of nearly solid fumes from a compilation of melted, decaying, putrid, and rotten foodstuffs rushed out the opening. The stench sent the first avenger flat onto his back.
The indescribably horrid and noxious stench had Robert puking uncontrollably. His head rolled to the side as his stomach emptied. He was thankful that the up-chuck in his throat killed some of the smell!
The sound of heaving and full-body retching brought the other three running into the ransacked room. “Everything okay?” Rorschach who was first into the room, called out.
☠☠☠
Captain America was lying on his side, throwing his guts up. I looked over to Benji’s copilot, standing innocently in the middle of the room. “What happened?”
“We saw something go up under that fridge and it turned out to be not just a fridge. For some reason, it was mounted to the door of a freezer that nobody had been in probably since this place had electricity.” Ghost Rider shrugged. “I’m guessing the food was rotten inside, and the smell knocked him down.”
He made sure to affirm it was the both of them that made the sighting of some small critter. If they hadn’t noticed said varmint, the freezer wouldn’t have been discovered. I don’t know why I was inclined to believe him. His words were unquestionably true.
Amy curled her nose. “Like, what’s that smell?”
Taking a sniff before coughing and nearly gagging, the man wearing the outfit from The Temple of Doom chuckled. “Well, I don’t know, toots. But trust me, I’ve smelled worse.”
Placing gloved hands on her sides, she narrowed her eyes. “Totally. I mean besides just that!”
I was about to say, I certainly wouldn’t be breathing deep enough to pick up any background scents, but before I could make that quip, Devin cut me off.
Not even breathing deep, he spoke confidently. “Vinegar.”
They had been forced to use their sense of sniff to receive their revelation, so I nodded in agreement, not wanting to throw up myself. “But how?” I would find that one out later.
Wiping his mouth, Robert stumbled over to us and lifted his shotgun from over his shoulder. “Does it matter?”
I guess it didn’t matter how or why. All that mattered was that we were about to have company; and a lot of it. Of course, the set of missing twins weren’t at Cracker Barrel, but at least we got to offer some justice to a few blunatics!
☠☠☠
Seemingly overjoyed bestial howling was heard from every direction. The inhuman noises grew louder as the mass of revenants drew closer. Rushing to one of the two entrances into this bare room, I jammed the lock. At least that will be ensuring we would only be assaulted from one direction.
Using a stainless steel island in the middle of the room, we all braced our weapons and prepared for the first wave. “Let’s make them pay!” I wasn’t sure what I was charging them with, but they would certainly be paying in gallons of infected blood. And shit.
Besides being equipped with the obligatory Captain America Shield, Robert carried some unusual armaments. Something he called The Devil’s Pizza Cutter was a barbarous looking, bladed set of brass knuckles. It was his shotgun that appeared even more alien. His DP-12 was a side-by-side, pump action shotgun he held ready alongside our rifles. This diabolical brawler clearly packed as much punch as its wielder.
Now that I think about it, we could’ve hoofed it back to Skywalker and been safe in the air before the demons even came into view. Dealing some well-deserved pain to the damn peevies was more important than being out of harm’s way, though. Somehow, none of us feared for our lives, ready for the coming onslaught. Our plan was not to drink it, but we definitely had a lust for infected blood!
☠☠☠
Having just laid eyes on a horde earlier today I knew what I would see, but it was still somewhat disturbing to witness. The first couple of mangy, rail-thin, and unbelievably filthy former humans to round the corner seemed more animal than sentient. Was evolution at such a rapid pace even possible?
Muscle structure had changed, sinking lower into the back. This new change started causing arms and shoulders to hulk forward, simultaneously making hands jut upward. It appeared more primal, giving them an overall fierceness akin to apes. Surely, if these muscles changed, others had also. Time didn’t allow me to do closer visual inspection, however.
If the muscular system had altered its positioning, does that mean bone structure could've done the same? I had pictured something similar to the transformation of people into werewolves. What had already happened to the world was taken from a fantasy or horror novel, so anything was possible.
As far as I knew, Guntersville Islanders hadn’t taken the time to capture a living peevie or even bring in a truly dead corpse to inspect and research. Maybe Doctor George, The Medicine Man on the Viva Ancora, had already been performing such tests. We needed to understand more about the mutations of these creatures while they were still close enough to our species for us to make sense of them.
“Get some!” Benji again broke me from my reverie, this time with several bursts of 5.56.
As he fired, his volleys decimated the initial comers. Rounds splintered malnourished ribs and cracked open weakened sternums, spilling vitals onto the floor. Amazingly, undigested, barely masticated raw meat burst from their shriveled and shrunken stomachs. Strange? They were clearly starving animals but were able to find food.
Vibrantly colored organs were trampled upon by their owners. Juices squished out as shit covered feet planted on each, sending the ghouls flying like Looney Tunes c
haracters. The life-sustaining body parts on the floor could've easily been confused with banana peels.
Most skulls simply ruptured upon impacting the hard tile. Scrambled grey matter nearly leapt from undead craniums. Seeing their fellow’s dead in the doorway didn’t slow the crazed mass of creatures. They were just too focused on the attractant of vinegar to care that their unnatural lives would be shortened after rounding the corner. More blunatics unthinkingly charged ahead to their end.
A continuous wave of what had to be hundreds of zombies lined up like dominoes as they bounded through the entry. Rifle bearers emptied magazines as the juggernaut in a blue leotard sent his earthshaking rounds into the fray. So many decimated bodies were piling up, peevies had to move the corpses of their fallen brethren out of the way to receive their personal face full of lead.
Tapping Benji on the shoulder, he turned his head to see I was getting his attention using a silver canister.
He gave me a lopsided grin. “Why the fuck not?”
My own smile was hidden by my mask. Pulling the pin, I drew back, tossing the white phosphorus grenade in a tumble through the air.
The group immediately stopped firing just as a shower of lava came from behind the first rank of peevies. Tortured wailing sounded from the demons as they melted like witches in the rain. A slimy, grayish batter was forming in a standing pool around the doorway. As expected, the monsters continued surging forward as their comrades screamed in burning death.
“Like, I’ve got some of those too, dude!” Amy tossed her own Willie Pete at the insane onrushers.
Screams of pain came as another wave rushed into flying magma. Superheated specks sank into bodies, emitting an odor horrid beyond description. The nearly textured scents of boiling flesh, melting hair, burning blood, and cooking shit wafted together to create an aroma impossible to escape. Good thing countless battles with these putrid monsters had hardened our stomachs. Not to mention being relieved of whatever contents after opening the secret fridge.