by Mark Clodi
Bill was still in their band, and where Bill went, Ruben went. Max was not sure what their relationship was these days, but the old man had adamantly refused to return to Iowa without Bill. They had spent only one night on the crowded ship before taking off on this next mission. This time they were considered a key part of the mission and Max knew where and what everyone was going to do. 'Now if only I can be sure Draper doesn't have other orders that I don't know about.' thought Max.
Bill had volunteered when he found out Max was going on to look for Sentry and, of course Stewart vowed to be in until the end too. The surprise was that Javier had decided to come along. The young Hispanic didn't have any reason to do so, but he seemed to admire Bill. Part of it, Max thought, was that Javier didn't want to have to go home and tell his friends and family a seventy three year old man decided to go on while he came home. Machismo was still alive and well in some parts of the country.
The five of them were going to head south from here and then east to the coast, where they believed Sentry was operating. Draper's squad of men had a different plan, they were to head due east and then north, to try and find the remnants of the civilian government. Both groups were outfitted with all the weapons and ammunition they could carry. For Max that meant he was outfitted with a trusty shotgun and a large caliber pistol with dum-dum bullets, a hollow core round designed to fragment and do as much damage as possible on impact.
Like Max, Ruben had a combat shotgun, he said his eyes were bad enough to make carrying a rifle almost pointless, not that any of the others believed him. The rest of the group carried rifles. Everyone also had pistols, the same make as Max with the same ammunition to make supplying them easier. Max knew Stewart had at least one extra pistol that she hadn't let anyone know about and that Ruben had chosen a wicked looking combat knife that he wore on his belt.
Finally there was the backpack. It was a heavy pack, black and water proofed. On the back of it was a flap of material that could be flipped up to reveal a control panel. The control panel had a lever that needed to be turned after breaking off a plastic safety. After doing that a countdown timer could be set. Turn the lever, start the timer and boom, whatever you wanted blown up would be gone. It was very small nuclear device, designed in the sixties for use in the Army. Originally small nukes had been made to fire out of a 'Davy Crockett' recoilless rifle and weighed about seventy five pounds. Fortunately those rifles had never been used in warfare, they had been developed from the world war two mindset to fulfill an anti-armor and denial of territory role. The idea was to give infantry the ultimate defense against being overrun by tanks or masses of infantry. However, it would have been a bad idea, tactically, to make random areas of a battlefield radioactive and 'random' was the right word to use; the weapons were notoriously inaccurate.
Things had changed in the years since the original small nuclear weapons were created. The backpack devices now had a yield of almost half a megaton of dynamite in a package that weighed thirty two pounds. There were other drawbacks too, the first was the bombs degraded rapidly, in six months all they could be used for would be to recover a small amount of weapons grade fissionable material. Another was the fact that to keep the weight low, shielding had been minimized. How much so had not really been mentioned. The technician showing them the unassembled devices had recommended that no one carry the pack for more than six hours.
"A day?" Max had asked.
"No, total." the man had answered, looking away. He went on to state that they should travel in vehicles and keep some heavy material between them and the pack, lead if they could find it, bags of soil or concrete if no lead was available. The portable nukes had been assembled at the last possible minute, to give them the biggest payload potential. Draper had three of them. His were heavier by six pounds and included a 'fusion booster', giving them a far more powerful explosion. The bomb Max's team would carry was meant to take out one man, Draper's were for 'contingency' situations.
"Any more activity on that Jenner?" Draper's voice asked, shaking Max back to the present.
"Still prairie dogging in and out of the doorway."
"Anyone have a sighting on the one in the south building."
Another soldier said, "I got him. Let me know when we are green."
A shot rang out and a bullet ricocheted between the four black packs sitting on the runway. Everyone seemed reluctant to grab them. 'That can't be good.' thought Max, wondering what would happen if one of the backpacks were hit. He had these thoughts from where he lay on the ground next to Stewart, who gave him a quick thumbs up and a smile.
"Green, fire at will." shots rang out from the surrounding men, they fired not only on the two super zombies, but also on the oncoming shamblers.
"There dead Draper." Max said, as the two super zombies faded out of his view.
Draper nodded and said, "Main threat eliminated. Red team move forward on house cleaning duty. Blue back them up. Green grab the tick tacks and act as reserve." The man turned to Bill and said, "Get up Lieutenant and have one of your men grab the pack, follow us in, but not too close."
Bill had received a field promotion to second lieutenant and Ruben to "Warrant Officer One" whatever that meant. Ruben seemed proud, even if he wryly gave the opinion that it was a pre-posthumous promotion. Max and Stewart were left in limbo, officially being drafted by special order of the acting government, but not given any rank. Draper referred to them as specialists or advisors.
"Javier, Ruben, keep Max and Stewart out of trouble. I'll get the nuke." he reached back and took a hold of the pack by the handle on the top.
"Geez L-T, the grunts are supposed to do the grunt work." Ruben mock complained, "If you do it they will get soft and lazy."
"I think we'll all have a chance to lug this thing around, the sooner I get my six hours in, the sooner someone else can carry it."
"Ah, I see your plan. You'll carry it when you are fresh and hand it off after we've humped five hundred miles and are tired. Then point out you've already done your share."
"Something like that sergeant."
"Warrant Officer." Ruben corrected him, "It sucks that we have to go by ground from here."
"Tell me about it." They all knew why they had to walk or take ground transportation from this point on, aircraft were disappearing if they flew further east.
Where they had been dropped off was as close as the pilot could get safely. There had been reports by some scattered National Guard units of planes being shot out of the sky by missiles from the ground and a few, more chilling accounts, of actual fighter jets engaging anything the living sent eastward. 'Zombies in planes, can it get much worse than that?' thought Bill. They had already seen the tactic used near Chicago, with a smart zombies killing and bringing back troops and setting them to work with their military hardware and expertise.
There were a few zombies left in the building and Draper's men quickly and efficiently cleared it room by room, calling out information as they did so. Max couldn't help being a little smug that the special forces troops had missed one, but he tried not to show it when he directed them to a locked basement room. The door had been locked from the inside and the lone man in a mechanic's uniform looked almost unwounded before the riflemen put him down for good. As soon as the building was cleared they gathered in the foyer of the main building to discuss their next steps.
It turned out they needed the man in the basement too, the keys in his pockets matched up to a Ford F-150 series truck that was high on the list of vehicles the teams wanted to take. Draper, his second in command, Bill and Stewart were looking over the keys they gathered for the vehicles parked outside. There was not a huge selection to divide up between the two groups, but there were a few choice vehicles both sides wanted.
"Let us take the pickup, it's four wheel drive, extended cab and suits our team better because it's smaller. You can take the H-2." Stewart said.
"The H-2 is a civilian model, the F-150 is the best out there, in fact I wo
uld put the older pickup ahead of the H-2, and that older SUV, what's it? The Relay? That might be a better bet in the long run. It gets better gas mileage than the other vehicles so it has extended range."
"Oh come off it, I know you want both the H-2 and the F-150, don't try to pawn of some piece of shit Relay on us with the 'gets better mileage' card!"
Draper smiled and sighed, "Really this conversation is between the lieutenant and I."
"Don't haul me into it, I like the Ford too." Bill said.
"You mentioned 'card'?" asked Draper moving over to the small counter, there were decks of sealed cards there, along with some small flashlights and novelty magnets, all with the airports name and logo on them. "Maybe we should let chance settle this?" He unwrapped a deck and started shuffling.
Stewart looked at him, "Poker? Or do we do this like adults and just go with 'high card'?"
"We don't have time for a Texas hold 'em tournament, so high card. Max", Draper said, calling the man over, "Come shuffle this and hold while we draw."
Max came over and shuffled the cards seven times then offered the deck to Draper to cut, the man's huge hand dwarfed the cards and he went deep. Max set the deck down on the counter and stepped back.
"You first." Stewart said.
"Cutter doesn't draw first." Draper said with authority.
"Fine. Bill draw one." Stewart said as Draper swore softly.
"Me? Why me?"
"I've heard you're lucky."
"Hold on there a second, you don't want to use his luck up on getting a vehicle, for all you know there could be a better car two miles down the road than anything sitting in the lot out there." Draper said.
"A good truck will get us closer to our goal faster, it's worth using his luck up for this. Go for it Bill."
Ruben chuckled from the side of the room, "Will someone just do something? I don't have many years left and I can feel them slipping away from me."
"Fine. Bill can draw, but I will take first pull."
"Fair enough."
Draper reached out and took the first card off the top of the deck looked at it then smiled and flipped it over, it was the ace of hearts.
"Goddammit." swore Stewart.
Bill pulled the next card and flipped it without looking first. The ace of spades.
Draper scowled and threw the Ford's key onto the counter while Stewart let out a whoop and started laughing.
"Don't worry Colonel, you'll probably find a better car a few miles down the road!"
"No one likes a gloater. C'mon men, let's get those vehicles ready to go."
"Did I win?" asked Bill.
"Yes Bill, you won. Let's go make sure they fill our truck up too."
Everyone filed out of the building into the parking lot where they helped siphon fuel out of the cars they were not taking and transferred it to the ones they were. The fuel was transferred and the vehicles were loaded up within half an hour, which left at least two hours of travel time. Draper and his three vehicles were heading north on highway seventy five, Max was heading south.
The choice of Madison Airport was closer to Washington than to northern Florida, but highway seventy five was the main road into Florida, all they had to do was follow the road outside the airport south and they would, hopefully, get close enough for Max to pick up the location of the man he was looking for. Draper was tight lipped about where, exactly, his crew was going. Only stating it was around 'D.C.'.
Once the vehicles were loaded the two teams stood around looking at each other, each debating how to say good bye to people they didn't really like, but would still miss. Finally Draper said, "Well, good luck." and stuck out his hand.
Bill shook it first and returned his good wishes. Stewart gave Draper a nod and a handshake as well and then the Colonel turned to Max.
"I am sorry about the first time. I hope you find what you are looking for…and kill it."
Smiling and nodding Max replied, "Good luck to you too Colonel, I hope you find what you are looking for and that it is still alive to save."
Max never saw Draper again.
Chapter 12 — Katie
They lost Samantha at the 'Farm and Fleet'. Katie was inside and the girl had gone in with her to watch the door while the rest of the group kept watch in the parking lot. Katie wanted some better equipment, and a new rifle, if they carried firearms. Samantha was hit from the side by a super zombie and screamed as it pulled her back into the feed section and tore her apart.
Katie went after the zombie, firing at it, but it was the 'Flash' of super zombies and always seemed to be a step ahead of her. She finally had it corned when it did the unexpected and tossed Sam into her as she fired on it. The girl's body slammed into her head and shoulders with her torn apart stomach drenching Katie even as she was forced to the ground. Katie thought she was dead then, but the others had rushed into the building and the super zombie fled rather than face their combined firepower.
Her four saviors had gone insane with grief when they saw what had happened. Sam was, after all, their daughter. Something seemed to snap inside Robert and he stared at the young woman and started to cry uncontrollably. It was Kent who put Sam down when she revived a minute later. Katie was drenched in blood, looking worse than she had even after coming to in the ruins of the office building in Chicago. She let the family grieve and went searching for new clothing in the store. Katie used bottled water from the small food section to get the blood off of her and stripped naked and tossed every single bit of clothing she had, it was all ruined and why do laundry when there was a world full of clothing free for the taking?
She felt dirty and sick to her stomach; mostly she wanted to get away to somewhere that zombies wouldn't get her. 'And where would that be dearie?' She asked herself, 'Heaven? North Dakota? An island in the Bahamas? There is nowhere safe anymore. So get your shit together!'
This last thought was delivered in her mind in a voice very similar to Randy's. Katie was staring at her clothing lying on the ground in the center of the aisle when she heard a throat clear behind her. She glanced back and saw Kent in the dim light. He was looking away from her nakedness towards the front door. 'Maybe he is only half gay.'
"Sorry, I didn't…I didn't expect you'd be naked. I guess it is….well I guess I would take my clothing off too, if it had happened to me. We want to get out of here."
"Sure, go ahead."
"We'll wait for you."
"No, go on. I wouldn't want to travel with the guy who let my daughter get killed."
"We'll wait for you." Kent said, turning and shuffling away.
Katie wanted to scream. She wanted to cry, to run after him and give him a hug…she wanted to feel something, anything. 'I don't even have tears anymore. Not even for this.' She pulled another gallon jug off the shelf, popped the cap up and dumped it over her head. 'I'll never be clean again.'
Fifteen minutes later she cautiously came out of the store. She hadn't seen anyone from the family inside as she gathered new clothing and a backpack to stuff supplies into. The store didn't sell firearms, but it did sell bullets, including more shells for her shotgun. She put four boxes into her pack, each weighed about two pounds, but the weight was comforting. She had also found some special packs of Winchester Military Grade #00 buckshot loads, there were only four packages of this ammunition, touted as being for 'home defense', but she was not going to pass it up. The #00 boxes only had five shells in each of them, compared to the twenty five round in each of the other four boxes.
It was known as 'Manstopper' ammunition in the military, because any man you hit with it; stopped. Katie still would have preferred a simple thirty ought six rifle to the shotgun, but being fully loaded did make her feel better. The others were waiting for her when she made it to the parking lot.
"You waited for me."
"I told you we would. Can we clear out of here now?"
"Where are you headed?" Katie asked. They all had backpacks and gear.
"We thought we
either go east or south. We want to end up in Florida for the winter, without heat Illinois gets too damned cold. You?"
The simple one word question stopped Katie, 'Where do I want to go? I've got nowhere left.'
"You okay?" Robert asked.
"Just thinking. I didn't really have a plan, just to get away from the zombies. Or to kill them all." she said without smiling.
"All by yourself?" Kent asked with a touch of humor tingeing his voice, "That's a tall order."
Katie scowled, "I hate them."
"That's a sentiment I can agree with." Robert said, "But there are too many of them. Even if we each kill a hundred there will be millions left."
"I've already bagged more than that." Katie said.
"Are you joking?"
"No. Are we walking?"
"Unless you have a car?"
"I have a car, it's on the side of the road over there." she said, pointing towards the highway, "I ran out of gas."
"Shoot. Do you know how to siphon gas?"
"Never learned how."
"Us either. I think we would need a tube or something."
"It would probably be easier to find another car. Maybe in those houses?" Katie said pointed across a field to a development.
"Alright we'll try there first." Robert said. They set off across the street and then towards a housing development that looked recently built because none of the trees were fully grown yet.
"So, was the highway bad?" asked Kent, more to break the silence than anything else.
"Better than I thought it would be. There are wrecks, but you can see them a long way off. I came down here from Chicago this morning, it took about three hours."
"That is about twice as long as normal, we decided to hike out this morning, a…zombie, it tried to get in last night. One of the smart ones. Rob was a hunter as a kid and inherited his father's guns a few years ago, not to mention he had one of his own. We shot at it, but I don't think we hit it. Today we decided to bug out, before it came back with friends."
"No car?"