Free Range Protocol- Tales of the Tschaaa Infestation

by Marshall Miller

  “Remember, young lady, you…”

  “Shoot, then run, then hide,” Angie answered. Darryl nodded yes.

  “Okay, let’s move.”

  The adults moved down the alleyway until they reached the back door of the corner market. Darryl produced a small leather case. From it, he took some small thin metal blades and rods. Joanne gave him a quizzical look.

  “Lock rakes and picks, Joanne. To open doors. From my misspent youth.”

  Darryl was soon at work on the large rear door lock. Within a minute, he worked the door latch and opened the door. He smiled at Joanne.

  “Still have the touch,” Darryl said. The two adults slid into the store, with Darryl using a small chunk of cement block to keep the door ajar just a bit.

  Inside the business, it was dark and musty. Darryl used his cellphone as a small flashlight to locate the parts of the store he wanted.

  “Joanne,” he whispered. “Get water and cold drinks from this cooler. No dairy products, they have long since gone bad.”

  He moved to another wall cooler, began to load some wine bottles and Tall Boy malt liquors into a rucksack he had. Next, he went to the counter with the cash register. He was not there for the money but what may have been left behind. A short search and he had a half a pint of cheap vodka and an Asian version of a Bowie knife.

  “Store security,” he mumbled to himself. He took the knife out of the sheath and tested its edge with his thumb. It was sharp. He laid the Asian Bowie back under the counter and continued his search. He found a small flashlight with working batteries, a working cigarette lighter, and an unopened package of beef sticks. Those small objects all went into his pants cargo pocket, along with the pint

  “Hands up, assholes!” The loud voice cut through the dark interior of the store. From the shadows came a dark clothed figure.

  “Hey, man. Cool. There is enough for everyone,” said Darryl as he raised his hands above the counter. He saw Joanne was crouched in the shadows behind the endcap of one of the aisles.

  “Tell your bitch to show herself,” the man snapped. Suddenly, a lightstick sprang to life as the unknown male bent it then shook it. The phosphorescent chemical in the lightstick cast a green illumination around the store’s interior. It provided enough light for Darryl to see the man had military fatigues and body armor on. In his hands was a standard issued assault rifle.

  “Hey, guy. I’m a vet too…”

  “Shut up! Now tell your woman to come out where I can see her.”

  “Joanne, come on out. Bring your stuff.”

  “I saw you two, sneaking around,’ the military man said. “Ole Private Reed here ain’t stupid. That Lieutenant thought I was. Now he’s dead, just so much dark meat.”

  “Dark meat?” queried Darryl.

  “Ain’t ya heard? Those Squids seem to think the darkest people taste the best. If they see you and someone dark in the street, they grab the darker person first.”

  There was now enough light from the lightstick for Darryl to see young Private Reed needed a shave, shower, and clean clothes.

  “Hey, Private. We’re all in this together,’ Darryl tried to explain. “We’re just passing through. You look like you’ve had it a bit… rough.”

  Reed let out a high pitched laugh that told Darryl the man may be several cans short of a six-pack.

  “Rough? That Lieutenant tried to get us killed being all gung-ho and shit. So when he got zapped, I went one way, and everyone else went the other. Been on my own ever since.”

  “Well, then you know that harvesters have been snooping around, could hear all this talk.”

  “That robot wheels through here in the morning then comes back at sunset. I’ve been watching it for a week. As I said, ole Private Reed ain’t dumb. Hell, I should be in charge, not some nigger.”

  He pointed his rifle at Darryl’s face.

  “Now, get the bitch out here, and show me what she has. Quit stalling.”

  Joanne stepped out from one of the display aisles, holding her pack in front of her.

  “About time, bitch. Hey, you ain’t bad looking.”

  “Here,” Joanne said. “Take a look at what I have.” She shoved, half slung the pack at Private Reed. The result was that the quasi-deserter swung his weapon and attention toward her goods.

  “Hey!” Redd called out.

  Any further comments were drowned out by the report of the .38 in Joannes’ hand, once hidden behind the pack. Darryl grabbed and threw the Asian Bowie at Reed in one smooth action. He ducked behind the counter as Reed screamed in pain. Then a three round burst from the assault rifle demolished the cash register

  “You motherfucker! You slashed my face.” Reed’s cry seemed to come from a mouth that did not work well. Darryl assumed the pistol round had hit the body armor, and his knife throw had been partially successful. Darryl pulled the .45 from under his shirt as he worked his way to the end of the counter for a peek. He hoped Joanne was hidden behind the store display rows.

  Further cursing was cut off as something yanked the back door open, and Darryl heard the whirring of a powerful electric engine. The harvester had returned early. He knew what would happen next, having seen harvesters in operation on the streets of Seattle.

  “Joanne, shut your eyes” the former Mafia soldier called out. Darryl squeezed his eyes shut as what reminded him of an oversized camera flash cube from his young days exploded light in the interior of the corner store. Private Reed screamed, blinded. Then a whiff of burning human hair invaded Darryl’s nostrils. The alien capture light and heat weapon had partially set Reed afire. Darryl head the clunk of the rifle as it hit the floor. The sounds of a human being yanked kicking and screaming from the store followed. Three quick shots from the alley told Darryl that the Army Soldier had brought a handgun into play. A scream was cut off in mid-vocalization. Darryl stayed behind the counter, his gun hand shaking.

  Darryl recognized the sound of the harvester’s metal tentacle retracting, Reed no doubt a piece of meat secured on the structure of the machine. Then, the loud electric engine sound as the harvester accelerated away. The adult shop manager stayed hidden for close to five minutes, wondering why the robot had not come looking for more prey. Had it been damaged by the pistol shots?

  “Darryl, are you there?” Joannes’ voice roused him to action.

  “Yeah. Just scared shitless. Nice move with the pack and pistol.”

  Darryl slowly rose from behind the counter, tiptoed to the back door and looked out. Reed had lost his helmet and his pistol in the alley. Darryl snatched both up, then went back into the store. Joanne met him, holding the assault rifle.

  “A bit warm, but still looks like it works,” she said.

  “Take it. And your pack. Head back to the shop,” ordered Darryl.

  “What about…”

  “Damn it, woman, just go. Angie heard those shots, will be scared out of her mind. I got things to check here.”

  The mention of her daughter made Joanne respond with no further argument.

  “See you in five minutes. Or I come looking.” With that comment, she left the store.

  Darryl controlled his shaking and went to recover his scrounged goods. He found a box of trash basket sized plastic bags and proceeded to fill them up with boxes of cereal, dog biscuits, canned sardines, potted meats, and powdered soup packets. The former store manager topped the bags off with some candy bars, snack cakes, and a couple small bottles of soda pop. Darryl doubled bagged the items so as not to lose them in the alley, He put Reed's helmet on his head, recovered his rucksack, stuck the asian Bowie in his belt, and hot-footed it back to his porn shop while balancing everything. Joanne met him at the back door of his shop.

  “About time,” she said. Then, Angie had her arms wrapped about him.

  “I heard the screams, thought they were you.” She began to cry.

  “Now, young lady. No harm, no foul. Now, grab King. I found some dog treats he may be able to eat if we soak them in wat
er.”

  “Where did you learn to throw knives?” Joanne asked him.

  “Used to play darts using knives with some wiseguys. Never thought that skill would come in handy.” He unwrapped Angie from him.

  “Okay. Let's secure the doors and do an inventory. I don’t plan on going out there again for a long time.”

  For the next three days, the three survivors laid low in the in the porn shop. Joanne had grabbed some toys from a rack, which included miniature chess and checkers set, plus a new deck of cards. A couple cheap dolls rounded off that booty, which took Angie's mind off of more adult subjects. Darryl ‘modified’ an adult toy with his Bowie knife, so King had something to teeth on. Darryl shared the Vodka with Joanne, which helped them both to calm down a bit. If they bounced around too much, they would upset Angie. She had enough stress as it was.

  The harvester never came back, and Darryl wondered to himself if Reed had somehow damaged it, so it had to go in for repair. If he had, then at least he had been good for something. They managed to use the scrounged batteries to have Darryl’s ancient transistor radio working again. Thus, on the third day after the raid on the corner store, the heard the news.

  Organized resistance from a central government was over. Survivors were to head to the interior States of the U.S., the Midwest. There humans would try to rebuild. The Tschaaa, the Squids, owned the coastal cares. Like Seattle and Puget Sound.

  “I wished they would have said all that sooner,” fumed Darryl. “Like three weeks ago. Then everyone would know where we all stood.”

  “I guess they thought they could still fight back, the government that is,” opined Joanne.

  “Then they were idiots. Rocks hit Fort Lewis/McChord Joint Operations Base, then Bangor. What did they expect?”

  At the mention of the submarine base, Joannes' face had clouded.

  “Ah, hell, Joanne. I didn’t mean…”

  “Darryl, between us chickens John is not coming back.” She looked at her daughter Angie, playing with King. “I have to raise her without her dad.” The conversation stopped as both adults looked at the young girl. Joanne turned and looked back at Darryl.

  “Could—"

  Darryl cut her off.

  “You can stay here as long as you want. I’ll help you make sure that Angie can grow up. She will not be a piece of veal for some Squid asshole.”

  Joannes’ eyes teared up. She leaned over and kissed him. There was some heat in the kiss, so Darryl gently but firmly pushed her back.

  “Not to be a jerk but I am old enough to be your father. So, well…let’s just leave it at that.”

  They both watched Angie some more, as they worked through their emotions. Suddenly, Joanne spoke.

  “You can be our Godfather. Hell, you even have Mafia history.”

  “Now wait just a minute…”

  “Godfather Largo. Or Darryl. First or last name, what is correct?”

  “This is not funny, Joanne. If a ‘made man’ came along…”

  “He’d be Squid meat. Your organization is kaput. Time to start a new one.”

  Darryl started to sputter. He knew how to run a drop spot for the old mob. What did he know about running anything more complicated?

  Joanne called to Angie.

  “Hey, darling. Come over and meet the new Godfather of First Avenue.”

  Darryl’s Godfather position became more formal when ‘refugees’ began to show up about a week later. First, it was a family of four. He was out dumping the large garbage bag from their “toilet” when he heard voices out by the other bags. Darryl had moved them out to the South end of the alley as their numbers increased.

  “These bags look recent,” a male adult voice said.

  “Someone is living here, Jim?” The question was from an adult female.

  “Nearby, Jane. But they may not be friendly.”

  “But they may be and may have medicine for Mary.”

  As if cued by her name, Darryl heard a hacking cough from a young girl. He decided to take a chance. The newly appointed ‘Godfather’ stepped out from the shadows of the alley.

  “Afternoon, folks,” greeted Darryl.

  The tall man named Jim pointed a semi-auto pistol at Darryl’s approach.

  “Stop right there, mister. Or be shot.”

  “Now that, sir, would ruin my day. But it would also ruin yours. Joanne!” Darryl called out over his shoulder.

  “I got him,” Joanne loudly replied.

  She was covering Darryl from the shadows with the assault rifle. The dead Reed had been so kind as to leave it with an almost full magazine. Darryl watched as Jim tried to decide what to do. Stress and indecision were written all over the man’s face.

  “Jim,” interjected Jane. “they could have just shot us down, no warning.”

  “Yeah, Dad,” this from a young boy. Darryl now saw a what looked like a ten-year-old brown haired boy step from behind an abandoned car on the street.

  “Son and a daughter, ah Jane is it?” Darryl tried to get a conversation going. Shooting would hurt someone and may draw the attention of the absent harvesters.

  “Fraternal twins, Mary and Joseph. You have medicine, Mister…”

  “Darryl will do. Now, can you ask your husband to lower his gun? The bullet end makes me nervous.”

  At that comment, Jim lowered his pistol.

  “Can’t be too careful,” said the husband and father.

  “Ain’t that the truth. Now, shall we get off the street? Its been a while but a harvester could come along and any minute. They cue on human voices.”

  The couple looked and nodded at each other. Jim kept the pistol in his hand but pointed at the ground. Jane helped a very sick and blanket wrapped toe headed young girl across the street.

  “To answer your question, Jane, we have some supplies. But I’m no doctor.”

  “I’m a pharmacist,” replied Jim. “Well, was one until now.”

  “Well, hell Pilgrims,” Darryl said in his best John Wayne voice. “We are a match made in Heaven. I have some packages of stuff with names I can’t even pronounce. You can sort them out, I hope.”

  An hour later the adults had the sick Jane resting in one of the former video booths, now cleaned out. Just the day before Darryl and Joanne had raided a nearby import store of a bunch of rugs, curtains, pillows, and throws for use as bedding. There was plenty of extras. Joanne used Darryl's field expedient stove to warm some soup up for the survivors. The four made quick work of it which told Darryl they had been on the road for a while. The packages from the delivery van had some antibiotics for a nearby drug store that never received them. Thanks to the Tschaaa.

  “Those are heavy duty meds,” said Jim. “You were lucky to find them.” Darryl shrugged.

  “Well, there was no one else around,” he said. “So it wasn’t hard. Except for the harvester robs.”

  A tearful Jane took that moment to grab Darryl, hug and kiss him.

  “You are a Saint,” Jane sobbed out.

  “He’s a Godfather,” piped in Angie, overjoyed at suddenly having friends her age appear.

  “Godfather?” asked Jim, as he looked around at the interior of the porn shop. There was just so much concealment of the stock Darryl could do. He saw no use in just dumping everything.

  “Well, you know…” began Darryl. Joanne cut him off.

  “ Yes, he is the Godfather of First Avenue, Seattle. He saved us, he helped you. Things keep going, he may be the Godfather of the whole city. Got a problem with that?” Joanne glared defiantly at Jim as she finished speaking. Jim held his hands up in surrender.

  “Hey, far be it from me to complain. You two just saved my daughter from a kick-ass infection.” And the end of his statement, he proffered his hand to Darryl.

  “I owe you, Godfather.”

  “Ah, shit,” Darryl replied as he shook Jim's hand.

  “If you want to help me, Jim, tomorrow we can go scrounging. That way the young ladies can stay with the children
, Jane can rest up some more.’

  “You have room, Darryl?”

  “We’ll make room, Doc.”

  “Doc? I’m just a Pharmacist…”

  “Now who is the Godfather here? Huh?”

  Darryl was told the whole story of how the family arrived in downtown Seattle as he and Jim were out scrounging. The Brown family had come from Kansas on a visit/vacation with relatives on the Kitsap Peninsula. Jim and Jane Brown and their two children had been heading to SEATAC Airport for their return fight when the Smith Tower was hit. They were stuck in a hotel as the airport was shut down. Then the real aliens appeared.

  The two parents with their children Joseph and Mary left the hotel when the energy grid collapsed, and people began to go Feral. Evangelical Christians, they thought their Faith and their God would see them through. That all ended when Jim killed a man trying to steal ten-year-old Mary. His military training had come back in a rush. He crushed the miscreant's throat, took the dead man’s pistol, and began thinking them or us. It took the family three weeks of hiding in many a God forsaken place to make it to downtown Seattle.

  “Why’d you come downtown?” asked Darryl.

  “We thought we could find some kind of boat to make it across to Kitsap County.”

  “With the Squids in the water?”

  “We were not exactly thinking well,” Jim replied. “We had not realized that those Tschaaa had taken over the oceans. Then, of course, we were here, with Mary sick.”

  “Yeah. I stuck it out as I had nowhere to go. And to be honest, the thought of being grabbed and eaten scares the wholly hell out of me. It was easier to hide in my shop.”

  They had decided to explore the area near the Smith Tower where one of the first Rocks had hit.

  “Bet you everyone ran, left crap behind,’ Darryl reasoned.

  “Sounds good to me,” Jim replied.

  Jim brought his pistol, Darryl had the Over Under 12 gauge and the dead Reed’s service automatic. He had the Asian Bowie stuck in his belt.

  As they traveled the few blocks to the Smith Tower, they saw no new tracks of the harvester robs in the dust and dirt. Something shifted in one of the nearby damaged buildings and a hunk of the floor came crashing down to street level.