Welcome to Necropolis

by Bryan Killian

  The soldiers did not hesitate and carried out the maneuver in perfect fashion. Four dispatched and a city bus at their disposal was the final outcome. The point man gave the all clear and motioned for the others to open windows and clear the smoke. He moved to the front of the bus and viewed the body on the floor. He could tell the man was retarded figuring it was no big loss. The driver on the other hand looked to have been in good shape, a little overweight but nevertheless he would have made a good soldier. “Too bad.” The soldier reached out and pulled the man from the steering wheel.

  Mariano tore half of the soldiers face off with his teeth. The soldier emptied his magazine into Mariano’s abdomen as his large black hands held the soldiers head like a vice. The two remaining soldiers raised their rifles snapping off quick bursts removing Mariano’s head. His body slumped to the floor, dragging the soldier down with him. The soldier pushed himself away rolling over onto the floor. The gaping hole in the side of his face bled. He looked up into the shocked faces of his two comrades.

  “I thought it was a head shot?”

  “Guess not. Shoot him before he turns and grab his gear.” The second soldier commanded walking away to radio in the incident.

  “You want to do it yourself, or do you want me to do it?” The soldier asked his wounded comrade.

  Blood rushed down his throat making him gag and cough. The wounded soldier removed his sidearm cocking the hammer back. He knew he couldn’t survive the wound and would turn. He had seen it happen with his own eyes three times. He closed his eyes and thought about his wife and three children, all lost during the beginning days of the event. Now he was mortally wounded, infected by the bite. In his memories his wife smiled and his children played. He pulled the trigger.

  Kilo Company was mobile less than an hour later. The city bus sat along side the interstate and four bodies were burning in a pile. The fallen soldier was housed in a freezer truck to be laid to rest with honors in the near future. Smoke drifted into the air and faded into the light fog as the final vehicle cleared the smoldering pile. Nobody in the caravan gave the killings a second thought. Their mission was clear. The small town of Cottonwood lay before them and soon after Anderson and then Redding would fall. After sanitizing the city, the soldiers would have the opportunity to remain in Redding to begin a new life. The government designated Redding a “Renaissance City” in California and thus would be rebuilt, repopulated and protected using all means necessary to protect it. Local and State Governments, though not completely eliminated, would be suspended. The caravan rolled on as the rain returned.

  Forty-Three

  The devastating events of the past two weeks crippled the country, interrupting every facet of daily life. Some would say you could always count on death and taxes. Now, you could count on death and weather. The rains arrived this year along with the Alaskan express and the accompanying bitter cold. The rain fell in sheets across the windows of the Convention Center. The crowded main floor of the Center was feeling the effects of cabin fever. Supplies were critically short and the collective patience of the survivors wasn’t far behind. Gates told the citizens to bear with him; plans were well on the way for a second supply run as well as a reconnaissance mission to evaluate the surrounding areas. Even with constant updates and reassurance from Gates, the citizens of the Center were growing restless.

  Behind the scene, Reverend Littleton was quietly recruiting and stirring the pot. A near genius, possessing great instincts, he patiently made his way to the Center on foot during the first days of the event. Along his quest to make it to the Center he picked up six travelers and led most of them to safety. One traveler became sick from a bite she suffered escaping her neighborhood. A news report told Reverend Littleton she would change and become one of the walking dead. He took the young lady aside, her skin pale and her breaths shallow, and explained God was waiting for her. With his fellow travelers standing watch, Reverend Littleton ended her life and sent her to God’s house, or so he told the others. Her graying eyes stared up to the heavens above as the good Reverend closed them reciting a prayer under his breath. He led the remaining survivors to the Center where they all pledged to assist him in any way possible. Charisma went a long way, and Reverend Littleton possessed plenty of it.

  ***

  Gates walked down to the main floor of the Convention Center six times during the past three days. He made appearances every morning and near dusk giving his usual speech filled with encouraging words for the survivors. He was becoming a politician telling the people what they wanted to hear. Reverend Littleton never missed a speech. Afterwards he quietly gathered his growing followers and spoke of a bright future. With the help of the others, he was able to formulate an escape plan that would deliver them all to a safe haven far from the city. A haven where they could start a new society guided by the word of God. Deep within the recesses of his mind, Reverend Littleton had formulated another plan, a backup plan.

  Forty-Four

  Ty stared out from the top floor of the Bixter Building, watching the fog let up a bit allowing him a clear view of the streets below. He watched them for some time thinking they moved slower. He knew it was cold outside, somewhere in the high 40’s. If the dead did slow in colder weather, maybe they would stop all together in freezing weather. Ty placed his hand on the cold window. All he needed was for the clouds to blow over leaving the wonderful clear freezing sky.

  Sugar sat at Ty’s side nudging his leg. Ty placed his cold hand on her head scratching behind her ears.

  “Getting cold outside, girl. We’re out of here soon…I hope.”

  Down the hall Tom, Rick, and Jess discussed plans for a food run to a nearby 7-11 store. Though the Bixter Building had several vending machines the group was certain they would run out of food quickly. The consensus was to take the chance sooner rather than later while the zombie population outside remained low. Rick and Jess agreed that the weather was good cover for their mission. During the discussion Tom mainly played with an iPod he found. He barely listened to the conversation with one ear bud in.

  “Tom! Are you listening?” Jess asked sternly.

  “Yeah sorry.”

  “Go grab Ty so we can work the rest of this out.”

  Tom left the office continuing to play with the iPod. He looked up from the gadget as he rounded a corner catching Katie standing in the hall spying on Ty. She turned quickly, her face turning red.

  “Tom, hey, what’s up?”

  Tom stopped in the hall raising an eyebrow.

  “Nothing. What’s up with you?”

  “Just wandering the halls. It’s getting a little boring in here.” Katie continued to blush.

  “I found two of these. The other one is back in my office.” Tom said, pleased with himself.

  “Your office? Oh that’s right. Sorry Mr. Hanks.”

  Tom snickered. He had heard all the Tom Hanks jokes but coming from Katie it sounded different. A bit flirtatious he thought.

  “Yeah, my office. Is Ty around?”

  “In here. You two are as quiet as bulls in a china shop.” Ty said still staring out the window. Sugar sat by his side wagging her tail.

  “Jess and Rick need you.”

  “Wonderful.” Ty winked at Katie as he walked past. Again, she blushed.

  Forty-Five

  Kilo Company rested at the outskirts of Anderson, 11 miles south of Redding. Sentries covered the four corners of the caravan while snipers perched high in trees with night vision equipment. Two large semi truck and trailers made up the mobile armor. Two more semi truck and trailer sets made up the kitchen and chow hall. Kilo Company incorporated over sixty military vehicles as well as two helicopters.

  Anderson’s population of nearly 10,000 fought valiantly but fell against the spread of the infection and swarms of the undead. Even with the town falling, the remaining police officers honored their oath protecting their citizens as best they could. Late one night as the rain started to fall, the high school gym’s dou
ble doors gave in to the weight of three-dozen zombies pushing from the other side. The final fight for Anderson was fierce and fast ending with a dead town. Now, two weeks later, the dead owned the streets.

  ***

  The Officers of Kilo Company gathered at a table in the chow hall studying recent satellite photos of Anderson and Redding. Earlier in the day Kilo Company completed sanitizing the small town of Cottonwood. It took little over 24 hours to completely sanitize the town of nearly 1,000 homes and a few retail establishments. Every zombie and survivor alike was terminated without prejudice. Kilo Company sustained three losses during the siege. Their bodies would be laid to rest with full military honors.

  Outside the chow trailer two soldiers walked by engaging in deep conversation.

  “The Yankees would have taken it all this year.”

  “You’re so full of shit. You know the Yankees didn’t have a bullpen and they made no moves to shore it up. They were dead in the water.”

  “You’re just a hater.”

  The two soldiers stopped, looking into the darkness. They knew several soldiers sat in the darkness with night vision goggles and itchy trigger fingers.

  “You know Turner has some blow for sale.”

  “Do you really think money counts? Besides, I don’t need any of that stuff. Now, those guys out there, I hope they’re hopped up on speed or whatever. The last thing we need is for one of them to fall asleep.”

  “No shit. You sure you don’t want to get some blow and beers?”

  “Yeah, I just want to find a corner and catch some sleep.”

  “How the hell can you sleep at night?”

  “Carefully.”

  The two soldiers continued talking as they walked by the kitchen trailer. Throughout the makeshift camp soldiers chatted about the past and the future. Some spoke about family members and friends they had lost while others spoke about family waiting for them at Camp Pendleton and 29 Palms. Others attempted to sleep. Sleeping at night had been difficult for most but they’re grizzled veterans who had taught themselves years ago to sleep standing up if necessary.

  Kilo Company sat quietly on the deserted interstate with the occasional “phht” from a silenced rifle. Walkers making easy targets when they stumbled down the interstate out of the surrounding woods. Runners proved more of a challenge. Snipers used silencers to keep from attracting zombies from far distances. Radio contact with the control center was constant. The snipers were the first line of defense for the caravan followed by sentries keeping watch at the corners. Kilo Company functioned well under the circumstances. Sitting before them, the city of Anderson awaited.

  Forty-Six

  Sugar followed Ty closely walking down the hall. Katie and Tom followed further behind discussing the iPod and other goodies Tom had found in offices. Outside the wind and rain continued beating against the glass sides of the building. Ty paid the storm no attention as he entered one of the Executive conference rooms on the top floor. He sat listening to Rick and Jess lay out plans for a food run. The big chair he sat in at the end of the long polished table was far too comfortable causing his eyes to grow heavy. He sat up rubbing his eyes finally admitting the plan was good. Ty felt a stir of excitement build in his stomach. Since arriving at the Bixter Building, none of the new inhabitants had ventured outside spare the rooftop when the weather was bearable. Ty’s smile grew wider while Katie sitting two seats away looked horrified.

  “We have plenty of food and water here for the next two weeks and this whole mess should be cleared up by then.” Katie pleaded.

  The four men in the room looked at her for a moment and continued planning. Katie shook her head sitting back in her chair with a resounding sigh. Ty watched Tom playing with his iPod barely paying attention to the plans Jess and Rick were diagramming on a dry erase board. He shifted his gaze to Katie. She returned his look displaying genuine concern in her large brown eyes. Katie scooted over one chair and was now sitting next to him.

  Ty whispered, “You’re not coming with us. This is just a quick smash and grab. Besides I need someone to watch over Sugar.”

  Katie breathed deeply preparing her rebuttal when Ty slid his hand over hers under the table squeezing it tightly.

  “Don’t worry darlin’, we’re not leaving you for long. The boys are going out for a few minutes and we’ll be right back. We need somebody on the inside to open the gates when we leave and when we get back. I trust only you and Sugar.”

  Ty shifted in his chair still holding Katie’s hand.

  “Isn’t that right guys. Simple smash and grab?” Ty asked loudly.

  “Smash and grab. We have plenty of ammo, thanks to Steve and we have his truck.” Rick stated.

  Katie, having fended off the numerous undead to make it to the Bixter building, found herself with a make shift family. Even Rick, who’d been part of the kidnap team, grew on her. He apologized several times making it clear he had a crush on her. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings but her heart was somewhere else. She found herself playing games a schoolgirl would play and it felt good. It blocked out the horror of the outside world.

  ***

  Ty, Rick and Jess sat prepping weapons and gear. Ty hoped tomorrow would be even colder helping to slow down the zombies. At one point during the evening he finally asked Tom what he thought about the mission. Tom’s interest solely lied with the iPod and other gadgets he found in the building.

  “You with us Tom?” Ty asked noticing he wasn’t paying any attention.

  “Sorry. I’ve just been thinking about my brother a lot.” Tom looked at the men sitting around the table with multiple weapons and boxes of ammo. The scene reminded him of a movie. “You guys look like something out of a movie. You look cool. Check this out, it’s from one of my favorite movies.

  Tom stood up clipping the IPod to the back of his jeans. He ran the ear buds up through his shirt and turned the music on. He picked up a shotgun striking a pose.

  “The music gets me pumped. Pretty cool huh? This way the wire stays out of my way when I’m in combat.” Tom explained loudly over the music blaring in his ears.

  Ty motioned for him to remove the ear buds.

  “Are you serious? You want to block out one of your key senses so you can look cool. Who the fuck is going to see you?” Rick and Jess sat silently staring in disbelief while Ty spoke.

  Tom opened his mouth to explain his thoughts but was cut off.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me. You’re our eyes and ears for the 7-11 job and you want to look cool with that piece of shit in your ears. Have you listened to a thing any of us have told you? There are Runners out there and they will kill you where you stand if you’re not careful. Leave that fucking thing here or stay behind.” Ty continued cleaning his firearm.

  “I guess you’re right. I was just thinking of movies and stuff and trying not to go crazy in this place.”

  “Don’t worry kid, tomorrow is going to be plenty exciting. You have our backs and were counting on you. You’ll get plenty of chances to look cool in front of us. Hell, just surviving this long in this nightmare makes you cool in my book” Jess said attempting to calm the situation. He looked over at Ty shaking his head. Tom sat down and began loading clips. The next couple of hours proved a bonding exercise for the men as they laughed and joked about the past and ribbed Tom relentlessly about the iPod.

  Down the hall, Katie sat on a hard couch close to the window. She looked out across the dark city remembering when the skyline was lit by thousands of lights. Now the city was dark. Sugar lay on the couch with her head in Katie’s lap. Katie stroked her smooth fur as tears rolled down her pale cheeks.

  Forty-Seven

  “There’s no food left. Our children will starve and you haven’t done a damn thing you promised when you locked us in here” A man yelled out from the crowd. The jeers started and soon shouting turned to flying fists.

  A single gunshot rang out stopping the fights. Standing in the middle of the main flo
or, Gates held a small semi-automatic above his head.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I know our supply situation is bleak and we are in desperate need of all essentials. Rest assured, a new supply detail will be departing tomorrow morning. We are hoping for clear weather and good visibility. The first mission will be too a grocery store only blocks away. I anticipate great success at the store. A second mission will be planned and executed back to the Costco. I have most of the men I need but I can always use a few more. Volunteers need only to come by my office. Now, for a little good news, a sentry this morning uncovered several cans of soup and other goodies hidden away in the main kitchen. Ken, the resident chef will be serving lunch soon. Remember to ration as much as possible until tomorrow’s detail returns. Now lets keep it calm down here. There are still children in the building.”

  Gates waved his right hand to the crowd and walked back up the stairs. All his fears about losing control of the survivors were laid to rest. A simple show of force followed by reassuring words calmed the crowd reigning in the malcontents. He walked proudly back to his office knowing he would lead the survivors and keep them safe. He was their Commanding Officer and they respected and trusted him.

  After Gates left the main floor a large portion of the crowd turned to find Reverend Littleton. He stood in the shadows accompanied by an armed sentry. Cecil McCabe had sworn his life to Reverend Littleton and cautiously watched the flock gather close.