“Oliver, it’s time to go.” She ran to the kitchen counter and grabbed her key ring and metal key box along with her CAC. Oliver was shaking in terror from the sound of shrieking coming from the other side of the bedroom wall. Grabbing the sunglasses, she almost forgot the little automatic, stuffing it in her front pocket.
The boy clung to her leg as she opened the door. “I need that leg, sweetie, I think we’re safe. I’ll race you to the car.” Oliver looked like he was going to argue for a second then took off running. Just as she did at the thought of Juan. She ran as fast as she could in her combat boots, afraid to make any noise.
I’m tired of running! “Sweetie, I’m going to drive back to the base. There are a few things I need to pick up. Then we’re going to try to find us a place where the monsters won’t find us. Does that sound good to you?” He only nodded as he went back into shy mode.
The feeling of freedom from driving a convertible fast on a beautiful sunny day started to improve her mood. Pulling up to the gate, Oliver was out of the car before she had the car in park. He quickly unwrapped the chain and pulled one side of the gate open far enough to drive through. He was already pulling it closed before she was all the way through, before wrapping the chain the way it had been. Running back to the car he seemed in good spirits.
Doubt started to cloud her judgment, as she got closer to the destination. That’s going to be my best spot for finding guns. Unfortunately I’m going to find something I don’t want as well. The front doors to the 62nd Fighter Squadron had collapsed from Juan backing into it and the gunfire, and sheer force of the invading zombies from the night before. Dead bodies in the doorway were at least four feet high. I’m not climbing over all that now that I’m clean. Gloria turned back out on the street and headed around the block for the exit on the opposite side of the building she had escaped through the night before. Turning the last corner, she saw the 9mm she’d dropped the night before lying in the street. She stopped and picked it up tossing it in the back of her car.
The body of a pilot with the top of his head missing lay across the threshold. She couldn’t see anything moving around yet. “Oliver, I have to go in there to get more guns. You stay out here and keep watch. If anything happens, just honk the horn and I’ll come out as quick as I can.” Gingerly stepping over the remains of the zombie pilot, panic started to set in. Gloria imagined all the things that could happen without protection and managed to force herself further into the short hallway. The lock on the door had busted but the door hinges still held it in place. Steeling herself, she opened the door. The presence of others was being communicated to her again, she did not have the same level of fear, but she was ready to run to the sunlight. Moving the sunglasses to her forehead, her courage improved along with her increased vision. Dozens were sleeping in the small auditorium. She could sense they were aware of her and didn’t care.
Heart in her throat, she walked across the room as silently as she could. She opened the door to the hallway and a few screams of shock and anger were released as zombies inside by the door ran to get away from the residual sunlight leaking into the building. Quickly closing the door behind her, she saw the hallway floor littered with spent brass, and bodies. The closest body was lying atop an M4. Grabbing the shoulder of the body, she was surprised how easily she turned it over. It took a moment to remove the patrol sling connecting the carbine to the deceased body. She moved on when she could not find any magazines on the body. Turning the corner into the hallway to the front door, dozens of carbines and pistols littered the floor where they fell when the defenders became infected. Looking behind the operations counter, she found ammunition boxes and magazines. She picked up an unused belt and holster, immediately sliding two full magazines into the pouch on the belt, then retrieved a M17 from the floor, releasing the magazine and pulling back the slide, ejecting a round from the chamber. Releasing the slide forward, she did a quick dry fire. A new magazine was inserted and a round chambered. She looked into the next office and was happy to find a flyer’s jacket; she put the jacket on and returned to the weapons lying on the floor. Slinging a couple carbines over each shoulder, she was happy to avoid getting any blood and gore on her uniform. In each hand, she carried two metal ammunition cans, surprised further at her increased strength. Shrieking greeted her when she opened the door again. This time a female ran up to her as soon as the door closed and no more sun leaked in. She sniffed at Gloria as Gloria stood still. The zombie was nose to nose with her, putrid breath washing over Gloria’s face. Her own anger rose, mainly at herself for her overconfidence, and at the zombie in her face. She straightened up as tall as she could and impersonated the shriek the others had shouted at her. The female made a face as if she was going to attack before slinking off. Yeah bitch; you talk the talk you have to walk the walk. Adrenalin flowing, she continued to the car, feeling like super woman. Oliver’s eyes were big as saucers when he saw all the guns. Gloria popped the trunk and set them all carefully inside, cursing that she didn’t have a blanket or something to protect the interior carpet.
“Oliver, I’m going back inside one more time, and then we’ll get something to eat and then go find a nice farm or some place that we can stay. Sound good sweetie?”
“Sure, can I get a gun, too?” his excitement was infectious. She couldn’t help but smile back at him.
“We’ll see, sweetie.” She hurried in this time, knowing what to expect. There was no shrieking this time as everyone who had been close to the door earlier had moved, those who remained all preferred to sleep rather than pick a fight with the odd female. Heading straight for the operations counter, she pulled out a deep long drawer and dumped the contents, then dropped in the few remaining magazines, before setting it on top of the counter. She returned to the other side of the counter and then picked up seven automatics from the floor and dropped them into the box. Okay I’m ready for World War Three! Her senses were feeling even more heightened so she carried the box under her left arm and held the M17 in her right. That bitch tries me again; I’m going to cap her. Opening the door slowly, she quickly closed it behind her. A male walked up, his breathe was just as bad as the woman was earlier. He didn’t seem to be to be angry or aggressive. He began to sniff at her, then grabbed at her crotch making a soft mewing sound. Gloria fired three times into his chest and then ran for the door. Others tried to chase her but turned away from the moment the door opened and sunlight filled the small hallway. Gloria went through a range of emotions as she ran, first anger for the creature touching her, then a satisfaction for all the men she had wished she could have done that to in the past, followed by exultation of escaping and living to see another day. In her exuberance, she did not hear or see the zombie that did chase her.
“Gloria, look out!” Oliver screamed at her in horror. Spinning around as quickly as she could, she watched as the same female zombie that had been up in her face earlier dropped to her knees, a hand covering each eye, letting out a long soulful shriek, then collapsing dead.
Almost dropping the box, she began to shake at how close she had been to dying because she thought she was a bad ass. Girl, you have to be careful for you and Oliver. Can’t let that happen again. Ever. With shaky hands, she dropped the box into her trunk, not caring if something was messed up inside. She unzipped the now blood smeared flight jacket and was about to drop it and instead, decided to keep it after all.
“Come on, sweetie, let’s go find something to eat and then we can go find that house to live in. Sound good to you?”
“Will we be having electricity and running water or will the house be like camping? The power is off.” Instead of looking disappointed at the prospect, he looked like he had a secret that he would burst over if he didn’t spill it soon.
“I think we might just have to rough it for a while, sweetie. You have any ideas you want to share?”
“Gramps and Grandma live part of the year here and part of the year up north, they call themselves ‘Snow Birds.’ T
heir house is even fancier than the one we live in on base. They take it everywhere.”
“They have a RV? Is that what you’re saying, sweetie?” Gloria’s outlook for the future just started to get brighter. “That’s a great idea, sweetie. I know a rental place not far from the base.”
“Gloria, before we go. I have to use the bathroom. Can we go to my house on base and get me some stuff, too?”
“Sure, sweetie. Maybe you can even take a shower and put on some clean clothes. It sure made me feel better. Where do you live?”
“You know where the gas station is?”
“Yes”
“My house is just across the street from it. Dad even lets me go to the store there all by myself.”
“That’s what we’ll do, then. After we get you cleaned up, we’ll go to the store and get some supplies.” Please God. Don’t let his parents be in the house. The boy doesn’t need to see that.
There was no visible activity on the short drive to base housing. The driveway on the front of the duplex was empty. The garage door was open and no car was inside. Gloria gave silent thanks as she pulled into the driveway. “Oliver, I need you to stay in the car while I check out if any monsters snuck into the house. You be ready to honk the horn if you see anyone. Okay, sweetie?”
“Sure, Gloria.”
The garage overflowed with boxes, and was littered with assorted balls and sports gear. I wonder if Oliver’s daddy was a jock, grooming Oliver to follow in his footsteps. The door was unlocked; the smell of vanilla was very strong in the kitchen. On the counter, there were dozens of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies still on cookie sheets. Gloria picked one up and took a tiny bite. Now that’s good, just wish there was some milk to go with them. I wonder if I’ll ever have fresh milk again. The next room was the dining room and living room. Family pictures of Oliver with his parents and older people that could have been grandparents covered an entire wall. One picture stood out, Oliver with two huge German Shepherds flanking him. The other wall had an entertainment center with a huge TV, surrounded by game controllers and assorted games. She stopped to listen and feel for any danger. She could sense the others not far off, hiding in the dark from the sun. Otherwise it felt safe. The first door on the second floor opened to what was obviously Oliver’s room. A shelf held a dozen trophies. The most amazing one for Gloria was one for marksmanship. A photo behind it showed Oliver holding a rifle, smiling, his father standing behind him, proudly holding his shoulder. The next room looked like it was a guest-room slash sewing-room slash storage-room. The last door was closed, something was not right, but Gloria could not figure out. The stench of excrement coming from the behind the door made her worry that the parents might have died in there after all.
Slowly opening the door, she only saw a blur from the coordinated attack. One of her attackers tried to trip her as the other pushed at her chest. She was on the ground before she knew it. Two German Shepherds, heads down, inches from her face, teeth bared, growled threateningly....
“Who’s hungry? Are the pretty boys hungry? Such good boys, are the good boys protecting the house?” Gloria tried to use her best baby talk as the shepherds first looked at her, confused, and then whined for attention as one gave her long licks on the mouth and face. The other lay down on his belly and thumped the floor with his tail. “Okay, good boys, you show me where your food is.” Both dogs waited patiently for her to get to her feet, then headed for the stairs. Great, two more mouths to feed.
Both shepherds stood by a door she had missed earlier, she had it partially open when both dogs forced their way through to a pantry slash laundry room that had two dog beds and two filled food bowls. Both animals attacked their food as she closed the door behind them to finish her inspection of the last room.
The master bedroom, decorated in oak woods. In the corner stood a handmade oak gun cabinet, a shotgun and two rifles filled three of the seven slotted spaces for guns. The ancient Ruger 10/22 was familiar from Oliver’s picture. A peek into the closet revealed dozens of assorted boxes of ammunition. She chose a Green box of .22LR rimfire ammunition that advertised 500 rounds in the box, the same type her parents bought her growing up. A quick check of the bathroom was more dog excrement and an empty toilet. Those were some pretty wet kisses I got.
“Come on in, Oliver. It looks safe in here.” The boy leapt out of the convertible without opening the door in his rush to get to the house. Surprising Gloria, the first place he went was to the fridge to grab a couple bottles of water, ignoring the smell. He handed the first one to Gloria before chugging the other, then grabbed a third bottle, quickly downing it.
“I’m sorry, Oliver, I really didn’t realize you were that thirsty. I found a couple of your friends; they’re in the pantry waiting for you.” Oliver again demonstrated an amazing amount of energy as he bolted towards the pantry door. Howls and scratching came from the pantry even before he made it to the door. Flinging the door open, the pair both jumped on him, covering him in wet kisses as he shouted “Tom” and then “Jerry”. Both dogs whined and cried as they licked the boy. Oliver broke out in tears as well.
Okay, Oliver, go upstairs and get busy. I want you to pull out a change of clothes and then hop in the shower. After you’re dressed, pack a week’s worth of clothes. If you do a good job, I’ll let you take your gun with us.
Both dogs chased after the boy as he tore out to go upstairs. Gloria headed for the pantry and found a couple fifty-pound bags of generic dry dog food. Each seemed light as she checked to make sure each was sealed before carrying them out.
The air seemed much more fresh than normal after getting out of the house. The sky was clear and the watch said it was already 1032. Next stop, find a more practical truck before I do anything else, especially now that I have two small horses. No, I’ll get a moving truck, fill it with supplies, then go over to the RV rental place, and load all of it into the back of an RV. I just need to figure out where to go that’s safe. Looking skyward, something was wrong, it took a moment to realize a plane high up was leaving a trail of contrails behind it. The president?
She observed the plane as it continued to the west and she looked at the White Tank Mountains under it. Bingo! Now, just get Oliver and his animals moving. I have a destination. The house seemed a little nicer than earlier, she grabbed another cookie, deciding it would be wrong to let them go to waste. First, check on the boy. She could hear the water running as she climbed up the steps. Inside Oliver’s room, an overseas bag sat on the floor already packed. On the bed was a kid’s size set of OCPs, complete with tan undershirt, briefs and boot socks. A pair of combat boots sat on the floor. Aww, crap, this kid’s too damn cute.
There was another presence close by. Gloria tried to see if she could determine more when she felt her butt being shoved. Surprised, she whirled around while drawing her automatic. Both dogs sat in the hallway behind her, appearing to be laughing at her reaction. “Keep it up boys; I think someone needs a bath.” Both dogs cocked their heads to the side as if listening and understanding. I may as well do one quick search of the bedroom. Maybe there’s something in the drawers I can use.
The dogs followed her into the bedroom and planted themselves in the center of the bed. The gun cabinet was unlocked, so she took out Oliver’s 22, and then looked at the remaining guns. A huge Isphapore 2A1 Battle Rifle in 7.62X51mm made her shoulder hurt at the mere thought of shooting it. Next to it, an ancient shotgun with most of the bluing rubbed off had potential, just not enough potential to actually carry it any distance. Gloria went back to the closet and squatted down to look at the boxes of ammo there, discovering 9mm and 5.56 ammunition, in addition to rounds for the other remaining guns. They made good choices on what to take with them, where did they go?
She heard the dogs jump off the bed and run down the hall the same time she realized the water had stopped running. I’ll give the kid a few minutes to get dressed, I should check out the master bathroom. The medicine cabinet had aspirins and a doze
n different prescription meds. She quickly went back to the bedroom and removed a pillowcase, reminding her of the thief they had luckily escaped from earlier. She dumped all the meds in the pillowcase and personal hygiene items. Now, cut it out, Girl. You’re getting new supplies from the store. What if they come home after all?
Gloria jotted down a quick note and stuck it to the bathroom mirror before leaving.
Oliver is safe with me. We will visit the base Pizza Parlor at 1200 every Friday for one hour until the end of May. I will replace this note if I can as things change.
1Lt Gloria Alban
56th OSS
3 April 2029
Just have one more thing to do. Dropping the pillow case on the bed, she picked up the other rifle and shotgun, depositing them on the closet floor then dumped clothing on top to hide them and the ammo. Maybe if someone else comes in here they’ll overlook them. “Oliver, are you ready to go?” In response to the question, Oliver stepped out of his room with the overseas bag over his left arm.
“Looking good there, Airman, now you just need to sling your rifle and we can be on our way.” Oliver disappeared back into his room and came back out wearing a harness and belt with numerous pouches.
“Shouldn’t I carry my bullets and spare magazines, too?” Oliver came across so determined Gloria couldn’t refuse him. He entered the bedroom and opened the small drawers on the gun cabinet, pulling out 30 round magazines. He then sat on the bed and began to intently load each magazine. “Lots of companies sell magazines for my rifle but me and dad found these are the only ones worth keeping. Others fail to feed right or just jam for no reason.”
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