“If you don’t mind me asking, were you able to drive all the way here?”
“I drove, rode, and walked from Cincinnati to Buffalo,” Metzger answered. “I got lucky and caught a flight out of Buffalo to somewhere in the middle of Virginia. One of the people in my party was a pilot and knew where to find a Cessna.”
“How the hell did you find an open airstrip to land?”
“We didn’t. Crash landed in a pumpkin patch of all places.”
For the first time all of the soldiers chuckled, showing a human side to their gruff appearances.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are all of the dead huddled on one side of the base?” Metzger inquired.
“They’re attracted to the noise around the ships. We’re often outside, walking or driving through the area.”
“Why don’t you clear them?”
“We eliminate a certain number of them per day so they don’t bust down the fences, but they’ve actually become a part of our defense perimeter.”
Metzger took in part of his surroundings, finding the base looked somewhat like the industrial area of virtually any city. Some buildings were little more than pole barns near the airstrip, while others maintained a purposeful appearance as though important meetings once transpired within their walls. Roads and parking lots segmented the base, and each building was identified with a sign outside, likely to help new sailors and visitors learn their way around when the base functioned fully.
To these soldiers driving through the base was old hat because they barely looked off to either side, not even in a guarded sense, looking for threats. Metzger couldn’t help himself as buildings blurred by without a single person standing outside.
“Why aren’t we seeing anyone outside?” he asked.
“We’ve cordoned off parts of the base beyond the outer perimeter to keep everyone safe. Some of the families are allowed to stay on the ships, and we’ve set up shelters within the buildings closest to the docks for everyone else.”
When they drew closer to the docks he discovered children playing outside a few of the buildings, providing him with a sense of relief. For a minute he wondered if only a handful of families survived to see the inside of the base, but he noticed mothers hanging clothes, children throwing large rubber balls back and forth, and a few husbands grilling out for the new extended family.
He assumed the men were married to military women because he saw no one here in uniform, as everyone remained busy with daytime chores. While the outside world fell into chaos, the military seemed to function about as normally as ever. The picture painted around him was a far different story than what Martinez told him during the car ride. He supposed the Navy conducted things with more discipline at their own base, and people knew their survival hinged on doing their part. The National Guard soldiers might have been treated like lesser citizens, and likely traveled miles, perhaps even many state lines, away from their families when the apocalypse broke out.
Deciding he couldn’t feel sorry for everyone, Metzger discovered a greater number of people enjoying the outdoor climate when he stared out the window again. A minute or two later he discovered people in uniforms, and not just Navy uniforms, working closer to the docks where several ships loomed much like the Wisconsin had earlier. Metzger couldn’t pinpoint the awe that came with seeing a ship so close to land. Perhaps it was because they stood as tall as downtown buildings, with lengths that exceeded football stadiums, or because he couldn’t fathom how something so solid and imposing floated.
He felt incredibly safe and secure among so many trained, armed, men and women, tucked behind fences so tall and unyielding that the undead couldn’t even be seen. Shrubs and trees merely kept the issue from sight, but he knew the zombies were pushing against one another, lunging into the base’s defenses without rest, day after day. Eventually even nature and steel would bend to their persistence if the military forces didn’t keep them cleared away.
Vehicles were apparently allowed only so close to the docks because the driver stopped some distance back from a ship Metzger recognized from online research and items Bryce sent to him shortly after he received his most recent assignment. Feeling almost like he’d come home, Metzger stared out the window at the destroyer, wondering how his brother felt serving upon such a capable watercraft. A few sailors milled about on the deck, looking much like ants on a bird feeder by comparison. Although destroyers weren’t among the largest of Navy ships, they were still an imposing sight to anyone standing below their decks.
“Stay here while we get things sorted out,” the soldier in charge said.
Metzger stepped from the vehicle to stretch his legs as three of the four soldiers headed for the dock where the ship sat like an immovable stone extending from the inlet. He took notice of how everyone, not just the soldiers, appeared clean, likely smelling far better than him because he hadn’t seen deodorant in a few weeks. The rare shower came with cold water in a house that wasn’t his own, and baths were often in some pond, a lake, or a pool with a green tint from a lack of chemical application.
He didn’t want to feel self-conscious, but couldn’t help himself. These people appeared civilized and adjusted while he felt something like a caveman visiting an industrialized civilization for the first time. With new information coming at him so quickly he hadn’t found time to process his immediate future, and suddenly he needed to vacate his bladder in the worst way. Perhaps nervousness from the thought of finally laying eyes on his brother got the better of him, but he literally hadn’t answered the call of nature in hours.
“So every branch is here?” he asked the soldier who stayed behind just to pass the time, and keep his mind from thinking about how badly he needed to piss.
“A lot of us were ordered here or San Diego when it started,” the young man answered, obviously considering Metzger part of the fold because everyone else trusted the brother of a lieutenant commander.
It made sense to bring the military branches together at two of the largest Navy bases in the country, but he wondered if other bases were still operational, and how long even sat phones and advanced communications would hold out.
“Why exactly is everyone here?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, is there a plan or objective, or is everyone simply surviving day by day?”
“A little of both. Some of us go on runs to get food and supplies, while others go on missions that aren’t public knowledge. And some of us watch for intruders about to cut chain link fences that let the infected inside behind them.”
“I didn’t really want to cut it,” Metzger said somewhat sheepishly. “Truth be told, I thought there’d be someone at one of the gates to meet us.”
Staring forward at the Ross, the soldier shook his head.
“It got too dangerous early on. We tried staying out there and picking them off, clearing the bodies when it thinned out a little, but more of them kept coming. Eventually the National Guard was used as a perimeter defense to keep people from getting close to the base and getting killed. Some of those guys bugged out early on, or never came in the first place, so they ended up bringing some guardsmen in from the lower states.”
Metzger thought back to Martinez, who desperately wanted to get back to Texas. Perhaps many of the reserve soldiers thought they were serving their country and returning to their families in short order, like every other time.
“What about you?” he asked the soldier. “Did they get your family to safety?”
“I’m not married,” the man confessed. “My folks, aunts, uncles, cousins, all live in California. I lost touch with them after the fourth day, so I’m not holding out hope that they survived.” He looked somewhat despondent, as though thoughts of his family plagued him regularly. “And there’s no way I’m getting there any time soon. Either way, this is my family now.”
Metzger felt California was an unrealistic trip on the survival rate scale. Even flying there wouldn’t be easy, becau
se no small plane could make the journey without refueling at least a few times.
“If they have any assignments out that way I might volunteer,” the man said. “They’ve been sending people to places familiar to them to make the missions go more smoothly. I think that’s why they chose your brother to head up the operation in Buffalo. And it’s probably how he got permission to bring you along.”
Metzger wasn’t particularly thrilled about returning to his home area so soon after leaving, but he looked forward to seeing Bryce. He found it odd they were sending a Navy man on a mission obviously meant to be carried out on land, but Bryce was a natural-born leader. Metzger couldn’t hold a candle to his brother’s abilities, though he somehow managed to safely bring a group from New York to Virginia on what few survival skills he honed.
“How do you know about the mission?” Metzger inquired, thinking the missions were supposed to be secretive.
“Word gets around. We don’t have the use of radios, printers, and emails like before, so people overhear things. Supposedly, they’re investigating one of the factories where the explosions happened to see if they can trace it back to someone.”
“That won’t be particularly easy without technology,” Metzger thought aloud. “My brother isn’t a Navy SEAL, or a detective, so why would they ask him to head this up?”
“They probably wanted him for his familiarity with the area. They’re going to send specialists with him to keep the group safe, and investigate. We have a pretty good return rate so far of the people we’ve sent out.”
Metzger didn’t necessarily consider the soldier’s words reassuring. He didn’t want to be a liability needing protection from the military, and he didn’t want to be viewed as some kind of civilian tagalong who was only there due to nepotism.
“They were waiting for your brother to get to port,” the soldier said, making certain no one except Metzger heard his words. “I think this mission is really important to the brass. Don’t know why, but they’re kind of putting a lot of their good eggs in this basket if you know what I mean.”
Metzger nodded, not daring to utter a response. Lots of major cities across the country were rocked by explosions that fateful day that proved far worse than 9/11 in so many ways. At least in 2001, in both Metzger’s mind and the history books, they knew the culprit responsible for almost 3,000 deaths almost immediately. In this scenario, the death toll reached the millions worldwide, and at least partly by default the people left in charge seemed to know nothing.
Seeing the other three soldiers return from the direction of the Ross, Metzger immediately read the concerned, grim expressions on their faces and wondered why Bryce wasn’t accompanying them. The leader drew near Metzger and pointed for everyone to climb back into the utility vehicle.
“We need to go,” he said to Metzger directly. “Your brother is minutes away from leaving for his mission.”
Everyone climbed inside the vehicle and the driver immediately sped them back in the direction they had just come from a few minutes prior. Metzger guessed they were heading for the airfield, because the military wasn’t going to ask their people to drive and risk life and limb if the mission was truly vital to the future of mankind.
His need to urinate subsided while he was standing on solid ground, but now in a moving vehicle he felt certain an embarrassing stain would cross his crotch if he didn’t see a restroom soon.
Once again feeling the whirlwind of his new surroundings, wondering if he truly would ever get to see his brother, Metzger began wondering if leaving his comrades behind was the correct decision after all.
***
Jillian contemplated how much she missed Metzger just minutes after their departure from the base, and more importantly, why she wanted him around. Granted, their relationship had gotten physical at the hotel, which satisfied her needs in that department, but she immediately missed his voice of reason when Gracine and Sutton started arguing in the front seat. Metzger was the glue that held six strangers traveling in a black Hummer together, whether he knew it or not.
Now they were more like a haphazard group of six people with no real plan and no real connection with one another. She barely knew Vazquez, felt acquainted with Luke and Samantha even less, and wasn’t even certain she trusted Sutton and Gracine. At least Gracine appeared capable of stopping Sutton from carrying out impulsive acts that placed the group in peril most of the time.
She numbly thought about losing Metzger at the base, ignoring the first few minutes of conversation around her. Not until she noticed Sutton taking a much different route back to their vehicles did she begin registering their conversation. If she remembered correctly from the map, there wasn’t a way back, at least not an easy one, that didn’t require them crossing at least one bridge to leave the Hampton Roads region. Luckily most of the military posts were set up along the major highways prior to reaching such bridges, so she understood Sutton’s notion.
Of course they couldn’t afford to get spotted by the military if they wanted to recover their belongings without incident.
“The chances of them grabbing the truck, while you still possess the keys, is highly unlikely this soon,” Gracine said. “We’ve been gone, what, an hour?”
“Those sons of bitches were eyeballing that truck,” Sutton argued. “They sent us in there hoping we wouldn’t make it back.”
“If we don’t slip past them it won’t make a difference. You’re driving like you want us to be spotted.”
“Maybe I do! We could take those weekend warriors if we needed to.”
“Oh,” Gracine countered, holding up a foreboding finger. “You’re willing to risk our lives, even the life of an eight-year-old child, because you don’t want to lose a few motherfucking supplies.”
Deciding she’d heard enough already, Jillian reached down, pulling out the set of maps the group had used to navigate through Virginia, thumbing through the pages to find the Norfolk area near the end of the pages.
“Enough!” she exclaimed, getting them both to set aside their quarreling temporarily. “I’ve got the map right here and I think I can get us through their blockades without them spotting us.”
“It better not take much longer,” Sutton warned, trying to maintain what little control he could over the situation.
His hands may have been gripping the steering wheel, but he certainly wasn’t allowed to run rogue with Gracine questioning his every move.
“Even if they somehow nabbed the truck, we can’t go confronting the military,” Vazquez muttered just above a whisper.
“Can’t we?” Sutton questioned. “Take down one or two and the rest would scurry like cockroaches.”
Gracine shot him a fiery look.
“We aren’t those kind of people,” she said with an even temper, but a hint of anger in her voice. “We don’t stoop to their level, and we don’t murder in cold blood, even if they have wronged us.”
“I’m a little surprised to hear you of all people say that,” Sutton said in the calmest voice he’d used all day.
Jillian wasn’t certain what Sutton’s words meant at first, but she recalled Metzger saying something about Sutton rescuing Gracine from some unsavory soldiers not far from the farm. Gracine didn’t say a word as she settled into the passenger’s seat, staring directly out the front window. Evidently the words were meant to hurt, because Gracine couldn’t muster a response to them for some reason. Although Jillian didn’t like seeing them at odds, the silence provided her an opportunity to guide Sutton along some side roads that wouldn’t take them near the highways and interstates where the soldiers might be looking for deserters from the military, or civilians not welcome near one of the few remaining strongholds in the country.
“Won’t they hear the vehicle?” Luke asked from the rear compartment where he and Samantha sat with Buster.
“Probably, if they haven’t already,” Sutton answered.
“They’re going to have equipment that can spot us and hear us comin
g,” Jillian surmised, looking to the map.
She wasn’t certain any method of bypassing the main roads kept them safe from detection, so perhaps speeding through the area was a smarter alternative.
“Surely they wouldn’t open fire on us,” Luke stated, trying to keep his words from frightening Samantha, who seemed to perpetually tune out adult conversations because they were seldom positive.
“Who’s going to stop them?” Sutton raised the question that no one dared audibly counter because his words rang with truth.
Knowing where the outpost they passed through the first time was located, Jillian directed Sutton to some roads south of the area, hoping they didn’t draw too close to another of the National Guard checkpoints on a different highway. If they encountered a different set of soldiers their vehicle might be viewed as one that soldiers would drive off the base, but they still couldn’t chance stopping.
Whether they stopped or not, any group deviating from the main roads was sure to raise suspicions from any guardsmen who took notice.
Although it required about fifteen extra minutes to go around the outpost they originally passed through, the group managed to avoid detection so far as they knew by using some side roads. More rundown businesses and undead made for bleak scenery, but Sutton managed to circumvent the original checkpoint enough that Jillian doubted they were seen or heard. Sutton also took a different route to the parking area where the three trucks were parked, but when they pulled around the side of the building they surprised two uniformed men who turned as though expecting more of their own people to arrive.
Their smiles quickly dissolved into frowns when they spotted the black Hummer approaching, and before they could jump down from inside the open box truck to grab their weapons, Sutton jumped out of the Hummer and aimed the M-16 he’d been keeping close to him in their direction.
The Undead Chronicles (Book 1): Home and Back Again Page 43