His Name Was Zach

by Peter Martuneac

  “I’ve got a GPS,” Zach replied. He fished his tiny GPS out of his ruck and turned it on. He saved the six-digit grid into the GPS and then turned it back off.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” Captain Frost asked as he folded the map back up.

  “I don’t suppose you have any food to spare, sir?”

  “Affirmative. Staff sergeant! Bring me an MRE box!” the captain yelled, but no one answered. “Staff sergeant!” the captain yelled again, and the staff sergeant appeared, but he wasn’t holding an MRE box. He had his M4 rifle up in his shoulder and was pointing it at Zach!

  “Don’t move!” the staff sergeant yelled at Zach. “Sir! This is Objective Zulu and the girl is Alpha!”

  “Ah, shit,” Captain Frost said as he stepped back and drew his pistol, aiming it at Zach’s chest. More airmen came around the vehicles and surrounded the group, guns in their shoulders and ready to shoot. Zach and the others put their hands up, looks of bewilderment on their faces.

  “Zach?” Abby said nervously.

  “What’s going on here?” Zach demanded.

  “On the ground! All of you!” the staff sergeant yelled.

  “Not until you-” Zach started to say, but he was cut off when an airmen slammed his butt-stock into Zach’s side. He fell to one knee, grimacing in pain.

  “Don’t hurt him!” Abby cried.

  “Just get down!” Zach said to the others, waving his arm down. They slowly did so, following Zach’s example, but not Abby. She stood with her feet planted firmly at shoulder-length apart, her hands clenched into fists of rage, and she glared at the staff sergeant. He had his M4 directly in front of her face and barked at her to comply. She could hurt him, Abby knew, or even kill him if she wanted to. She could knock the muzzle of his rifle away, draw her knife and stab him before he had time to react. And as her right hand slowly moved towards the hilt of her knife, she seriously considered doing it. They had hurt Zach when all he was trying to do was get food, and now she was angry.

  But there were too many men with guns. They would kill her if she attacked one of their own, and she would not do that to Zach, allow herself to be gunned down right in front of him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground and lay down on her stomach, but her fiery silver eyes never left the staff sergeant’s.

  Half of the airmen kept their guns aimed at their prisoners while the other half took their packs and their weapons and then patted them down. The man who patted down Abby found her pocket knife. He took it and slid it into his pocket, and Abby said, “Hey, that’s mine!”

  “Not anymore,” the man said, then he put his knees down roughly on Abby, one on her neck and the other on her back, as he flex-cuffed her hands behind her.

  “Hey, take it easy! She’s a kid!” Zach protested as the same was done to him.

  “Shut up,” the staff sergeant said.

  Their packs and weapons were thrown into the trunk of the rear vehicle as all of them had their hands bound with flex-cuffs. “If any of you try any funny business,” the captain said, addressing his prisoners, “We will execute all of your friends, regardless of age or gender. Have I made myself clear?”

  Zach responded for everyone when he gave the captain a venomous, “Crystal, sir.”

  “Alright, let’s load ‘em up!” Frost yelled, lifting his right hand in the air and moving it in a small counter-clockwise circle.

  “That means ‘assemble’, dumbass,” Zach said, earning him another hit from a rifle stock.

  The group was separated into groups of two and placed into the back of three Humvees: Zach with Diane, Ross with Al, and Amber with Abby. Just a few minutes later the convoy started rolling, heading south-east.

  It was a very long ride for Zach. The last time he had been in a Humvee was in Iraq, over a decade ago. He had lost too many friends in these vehicles when they hit IED’s, and had come very close to dying in one himself more than once. Humvees did not take IED’s very well, especially not in the big Iraqi cities, and Zach had seen some horrible things inside of these vehicles. Being in one again brought all those images back to mind in vivid clarity, and so Zach found himself short of breath and fidgeting nervously several times.

  Finally they arrived at their destination. Zach looked out the window of the lead vehicle and saw a sign that indicated this to be an Air Force base. Also on the sign, in small letters, were the words ‘Major General Savage, Commanding’. A tall chain-link fence ran around the entire perimeter of the small base, topped by concertina wire and the occasional guard tower, though these were placed erratically. The road they were on led to what looked like the main gate. Two airmen in battle gear and holding rifles stood just inside the gate and stopped the convoy. The lead gunner shouted out the convoy’s call sign and the number of personnel they had, and then one of the gate guards unlocked the gate and pushed it open.

  Compared to what Zach had been used to seeing in Iraq and Afghanistan, security here seemed very lax: no spike strips, no barriers, no machine guns, and guard towers placed at seemingly random points. As they rolled into the base, Zach could see the long airstrip not far away with several different types of helicopters and jets parked on the tarmac. Several houses that looked like they had been constructed in recent years were all huddled on the east side of the base along a road that also looked new.

  Zach did not know, but the homes had been constructed inside the base, along with the upgraded perimeter fence, immediately after the first rumors of zombies. This had been done at a few State-side military bases, but had been kept secret from the general public. All military personnel on these bases had orders that kept them from leaving their duty station under any circumstance, though they could move their spouse and children in with them into the new homes if they had any.

  A large two-story building loomed in front of them on the main road, and the convoy stopped in front of it. The airmen exited their vehicles, opened the back doors, and then roughly drug their prisoners out. Once everyone had been accounted for, the group was escorted into the building that Zach assumed was the base’s headquarters. After passing through two sets of double-doors, the group found themselves standing in a small lobby with a type of reception room in front of them. Two young looking airmen sat behind a counter in their service uniforms, but both stood and saluted when Captain Frost entered the room.

  “Call Major General Savage. Tell him I have Objectives Alpha and Zulu,” the captain said to one of the two airmen on duty.

  “Yes sir!” said the higher ranking of the two as the other one picked up a phone and dialed a short number.

  Zach and the others were then led through a door on their left which opened up to a short hallway. It was T-shaped, with a longer hallway running off to the right, and it was down that way that Zach and Abby were led while the others were pushed forward. The man holding Abby stopped at a door marked ‘Conference Room 1’ and opened the door, shoving Abby in. Her arms were still bound behind her back, so she fell roughly on her side. Ever defiant, she stuck her tongue out at the man as he closed the door behind him.

  Zach was led to the next door on the same side of the hallway, marked ‘Conference Room 2’. The airman escorting Zach opened the door, pushed Zach inside, and closed the door. The room was small, about twenty feet by fifteen feet. A long table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by swivel chairs, and two audio devices sat on it. Two men in camouflage utilities stood alongside the far wall, opposite of Zach, armed with Berretta M9 pistols holstered on their utility belts, along with a small black radio for each, a key ring, and handcuffs.

  They were leaning against the wall, mean-mugging Zach, hoping to intimidate him, but Zach just stared back. After a few minutes of standing near the door, Zach strode over to the nearest chair and sat down on it, reclining back as far as he could.

  “Hey, you’re not allowed to sit there!” one of the airmen barked.

  “That’s unfortunate,” Zach replied, staring down the man and daring him to try
to get him out of the chair. The airmen drew his pistol and leveled it at Zach, repeating his command. But Zach knew he was bluffing. Zach was clearly an HVT, a High Value Target, and so they would not shoot him without at least one important person talking to him first.

  Confident in his safety and the emptiness of the man’s threat, Zach leaned forward and, in a dangerously steady voice, said, “You should put that gun away before you hurt yourself.” The man looked flustered, but Zach maintained his icy stare, and the man finally holstered his weapon, his face flush with embarrassment.

  About ten minutes later, the door to Zach’s room finally opened and in walked Major General Savage. Zach had to admit to himself that the man had an intimidating presence as the two airmen along the wall snapped to attention; he hoped the man did not live up to his name.

  He was by no means a giant in stature, but he certainly had the aura of one. His pitch-dark skin was most likely covered in tattoos, considering that Zach could faintly make out some lines of ink rising just above his shirt’s collar, and his bullet-shaped head was completely devoid of hair. His eyes were dark, even darker than Zach’s, and he had a prominent nose, usually the mark of an ambitious man. His neck was as thick as a car battery, his shoulders were broad, and the fabric of his camouflage utilities was stretched tightly by his muscular frame. And speaking of his uniform, it was absolutely immaculate, as were his large boots. This man was a perfect picture of military bearing and professionalism.

  He was followed by one of the young men who had been on duty in the front room, and he carried a small flat-screen TV and an old DVD/VHS player under his arms. He set these items on the table, plugged them into the wall, connected the two together, and then turned them both on to make sure that they were working.

  “Thank you, Higgins,” said the Major General as the man walked back towards the door and then stood next to it at parade rest. Savage stood in front of Zach with his hands clasped behind his back and fixed him with a gaze made heavy by years of virtually unchallenged authority. This was not a tolerant man, Zach decided bleakly.

  “I would think,” Savage said slowly in a deep voice that was thick with command, “that an ex-Marine would know to stand when a flag officer enters the room.”

  “I would think that a flag officer would know we prefer the term ‘former Marine’,” Zach said, still seated.

  “Was that supposed to be funny?”

  “Kinda, yeah. I know it was weak but if you give me a minute I could probably come up with something better.”

  Savage said nothing. He took two steps towards Zach, leaned against the chair’s armrests, and got face to face with him before saying, “You might want to bring back some of that respect and discipline you Devildogs love to brag about. I have the authority to execute you, if I deem it necessary. The girl, too.”

  So blatantly reminded of his precarious situation, Zach sighed and said, “Why am I here?”

  “You have been accused of mass murder by a man named Henry Marshall.”

  Despite his best attempts to hold his composure, Zach’s jaw dropped upon hearing that name and his eyes grew wide in shock. Henry! How could he have anything to do with this? “This is not happening,” Zach thought, “This is so not happening.”

  “He told us that a former Marine by the name of Zach, together with a young girl named Abby that he keeps with him in order to gain people’s trust entered his home, accepted his family’s hospitality, and then brutally murdered everyone but him.”

  “And that’s enough to condemn me? One man’s accusation?” Zach asked incredulously.

  “Of course not. But he did have this,” said Savage. He reached over to the VCR and hit ‘play’. Zach looked at the television to see a grainy, black and white video playing on the screen, with a time stamp in the bottom left corner. The video was choppy and there was no audio. It appeared to be a cheap security camera that filmed the video.

  The last inch of the left side of the screen was cut off by something, a tall, slim object, but the rest of the image was painfully recognizable. It was the dining room at the Marshall’s house, and taking up most of the screen was the dinner table, with Anne, Tom, Hannah, and Abby sitting around it, waiting on Zach and Henry. It was a hidden camera!

  “That goddamn owl,” Zach thought to himself. They must have had security cameras all over the house, and on the outside, too. That would explain how Henry had seen Zach sneaking over to the garage, and how Tom had seen him and Abby coming from so far away. As the video progressed, Zach could practically feel a noose being tightened around his neck. He knew what was coming, and he knew how incriminating it was going to look.

  The video showed Zach bursting into the room, gun in hand, shouting. Because there was no audio, you could not tell what he was saying, but the expressions of fear on everyone’s faces was obvious. A few seconds pass, and suddenly Anne pulls a gun, but Zach kills her, supposedly in cold blood. Tom goes to mourn his dear wife while Hannah takes Abby hostage. Unfortunately, due to the angle of the video and the poor quality, it looks only like she is holding Abby back from Zach, not threatening her life. Zach is off camera now as chaos ensues, and Tom suddenly charges him, in what must appear to be a heroic, last-ditch effort to defend his family.

  In comes Henry, holding his head and saying something. Some dialogue ensues, and next you see Henry carrying Abby out of the house under his arm. A couple of minutes pass, and nothing else can be seen except Hannah breathing heavily. The most important scene, of course, is not caught on the video. In reality, Frank killed his father, Hannah shot Frank, and then Zach stabbed Hannah. But all one sees on the video is Hannah suddenly looking very scared and angry. She shouts something as she grabs her mother’s gun and fires twice, and then Zach buries a huge knife in her heart, a knife that looks very similar to the one that the airmen had taken from him. Zach looks into the camera, providing a clear image of his face, and then runs out the back door.

  Savage turned the TV off, but Zach still stared intently at the screen that had just finished condemning him. The Major General turned to Zach with his hands folded on the desk and said, “Well? Nothing witty to say? Cat got your tongue?”

  “Sir, this is not what it looks like. Those people were cannibals who intended to slaughter us. Their garage had human body parts in it, for Christ’s sake! Henry threatened me when I found out, but I disarmed him. What you see in the video is me trying to get Abby and leave peacefully.”

  “Henry said that he was just showing you around when you suddenly pulled a gun on him. Anne was trying to protect her family from you.”

  “He lied to you!”

  “Prove it.”

  “I can’t,” Zach said, sitting back in frustration. “But you can’t see everything in that video, sir. Frank is the one who killed Tom, and then Hannah shot Frank.”

  “Who’s Frank?”

  “Henry’s brother.”

  “Henry doesn’t have a brother, just a sister.”

  “Yeah, he was banging her, too! He had a brother! I couldn’t make this shit up!”

  “Actually, it seems likely that you did, considering that you have no proof and Henry has video evidence.”

  “Wait, the video! Back it up all the way and you’ll see Frank with us when we first came in!”

  “The video starts four minutes and thirty-three seconds before you came into the room. It starts with Henry leaning in front of it, backing the tape all the way up since it had reached the end.”

  “Goddamn it,” Zach muttered. “Well, what about Henry taking Abby away? That’s on the video, and he was taking her to the garage to slaughter her! The bastard tried to rape her!”

  “Henry said he was just trying to get her away from you. Such a young girl shouldn’t be held captive by a murderer like you.”

  “ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH?” Zach shouted. He was starting to lose his cool and, by default, his credibility. “Watch the tape! She was terrified of being parted from me!”

  “Have you
ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?”

  “That’s some bullshit! Ask her yourself, and she’ll tell you exactly what I already have!”

  “Yes, I’m sure you rehearsed your story with her multiple times. As for talking to her, Captain Frost is handling that.” Savage turned the television back on, but then flipped it up one channel. The television was being fed a wireless security camera feed, but this one was live and in much better quality. The camera was in a corner near the ceiling of a room that was similar to the one Zach was in, and it showed Abby sitting in a chair, her hands still bound behind her. She was flanked by two airmen and Captain Frost was pacing back and forth in front of her, interrogating her.

  “So Objective Zulu is your biological father?” he asked.

  “His name is Zach! And no, but he adopted me,” Abby responded.

  “You will refer to him as Objective Zulu from here on out, is that understood?”

  “No! His name is Zach and OW!”

  Abby was interrupted by the captain smacking the side of her head. He had not hit her very hard, but hard enough to make his point. Zach lunged out of his chair, but the two airmen behind him shoved him back down. “Are you just gonna let that happen?” Zach demanded angrily.

  Savage actually looked a little embarrassed and he said to Higgins, who was still by the door, “Go remind the captain that his detainee is a fourteen year old girl.”

  “Yes sir!” said Higgins and he quickly left the room. Zach turned back to the screen.

  “Has Objective Zulu murdered anyone else before or after the incident at the farm?” Frost asked.

  “Zach has never murdered anyone!” Abby said, placing a strong emphasis on Zach’s name. Frost looked like he was about to hit her again, but Higgins suddenly appeared on screen. He approached the captain, whispered something into his ear, and then left. Frost looked up at the security camera, shook his head, and then turned back to Abby.

  “So you’re saying that he’s innocent? Despite the insurmountable evidence, you’re contending that he’s a good man?”