The Reckoning - 02

by D. A. Roberts

  “We’ll see,” I said. “Let’s just get everyone moved down here and secure it. With any luck, we won’t have to make any runs outside of the Underground for quite some time.”

  “What do we do when the generators go offline?”

  “We’ll deal with that when it happens,” I said. “Eventually, we’re going to have to set up somewhere else, anyway. We’re going to have to build a community somewhere safe, where we can live and grow our own food. Otherwise, we’ll just be scavengers until the food runs out.”

  “I know what you mean,” he said. “If we don’t find something sustainable, we’ll be screwed when the food goes.”

  “One step at a time,” I said. “First we move down here and rebuild. Let the Freemen have the jail. It won’t be standing once the bombing begins, anyway. We’ll figure out our next move once we’re safely inside the Underground.”

  The next few hours passed as we took three truck drivers up to the Army Reserve Compound and selected three Hemmitts for the trip. All three were cargo configuration with open back decks. I only planned to use them for gear, but even if we had people on them the zombies would have a hard time reaching them. The decks were level with the roof of a Humvee. It would be almost impossible for a zombie to climb up there when they were moving. We’d have to be careful at low speeds and protect the Hemmitts.

  Since they were so much bigger, we needed to find a more direct route back to the jail. We couldn’t manage some of the tight turns and passages we’d made with the Humvees. We could take Division almost all the way to the back entrance of the jail if we could clear the path across Glenstone Avenue. With the size of a Hemmitt, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. We could bash our way through most vehicles.

  Once we cleared a path, the run wouldn’t take more than half an hour. With the All-father on our side, we would have the jail empty and everyone safely inside the Underground before nightfall. If only the military bombing would hold off until then. If they didn’t, things would get interesting before we were through. They say the All-father rolled the skein of our lives, long ago. That our fate is fixed. I guess I’ll find out if mine runs out today.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Evacuation

  “Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste death but once.”

  - William Shakespeare

  -

  When we arrived back at the jail, we had to park the Hemmitts in the delivery area and the Humvees in the intake area. There just wasn’t enough room for all the vehicles in one place. We were let back inside the intake area and cleared by a sweeper team made up of Gunny, Webber, John, Shane and my oldest son Elliot.

  Elliot stood next to John and I could see that he was holding his M-4 correctly. I could tell that Cal had been teaching him well. I couldn’t help but smile and feel proud of my son. I hated to see him grow up so fast, but we needed every able-bodied person we could get our hands on. Once we were cleared and had exited the vehicles, I could tell that they were all laughing about something. Spec-4 came around and stood by me with a puzzled look on her face.

  “What the heck are they grinning at?” she asked, quietly.

  “I have no idea,” I replied.

  “Hey, Wylie,” called Corporal Winston, “come check this out!”

  I glanced at Spec-4 and shrugged, and then we both headed for what Winston was pointing at. Near the pedestrian gate that led to the court house, I could see Ian Shane standing with his boot on the back of a zombie that was still moving. It had been handcuffed and was on its stomach, wriggling around trying to get up. Shane kept it in place with a boot in the middle of its back.

  “What the hell?” I asked, gesturing at the zombie that was trying to twist its head to bite his foot. “Are we arresting them, now?”

  Shane had to laugh and shook his head.

  “Not quite,” he said. “I came out to check the gate and this one had managed to get inside. It grabbed me from behind and I reacted like I would in a pod.”

  “What did you do?” asked Spec-4, eyes wide as she stared at the restrained zombie.

  “I twisted around, grabbed his wrist and threw him,” he said, grinning broadly. “Once instinct kicked in, I reacted like we were trained to respond to an inmate attack. I deployed my O.C[12]. Then I arm-barred his ass to the ground, proned him out and slapped the cuffs on him. By the way, O.C. doesn’t work.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t hit him with an LVNR[13],” I said, chuckling.

  “I’m glad I didn’t,” he replied. “I probably would have gotten bit.”

  “So, are you planning on keeping it as a pet or are you going to put it down?” asked Spec-4.

  “Once I had it in cuffs, I didn’t figure it was going anywhere. I wanted to show you guys before we finished it off.”

  “I’ve got it,” I said, pulling out my hammer.

  One quick shot to the back of the head and it stopped moving. Shane didn’t bother to recover his cuffs. That was probably for the best, anyway. I’m not sure how well you can disinfect zombie germs. No sense risking infection by carrying them around on his belt. I doubted that anything short of medical level sterilization in an autoclave would do the trick.

  Once we went back inside, I headed for Master Control. I brought the Lieutenant and the Sheriff up to speed on what we’d found. We’d already agreed that evacuation was going to be our best option. I was glad to learn that they’d been busy in my absence. Everything was already packed and ready to load. With that settled, I headed back to Alpha Pod for some unfinished business.

  Taking Webber, Gunny and Shane with me, we started opening cells that held the officers that had sided with Wright. We brought them out into the dayroom and instructed them to have a seat. Once that was settled, I took a moment to look each of them in the eye. The three SPD officers and six of the deputies wouldn’t meet my gaze. I could tell that they weren’t pleased with themselves for how things turned out. That was good. There was hope for them.

  The two Republic officers and three patrol deputies just glared daggers at me. There was no way I was going to be able to trust any of them. They’d shoot me in the back, first chance they got. I didn’t want to have to leave anyone behind, but I couldn’t see any other option with them. I could already tell that they weren’t going to leave me any choice.

  “Listen up,” I said, without preamble. “This is the one and only time I’m going to offer this, so think before you speak.”

  A few of them glanced at each other, but most of them just watched me with uncertainty on their faces.

  “We’re going to be evacuating the jail and heading for a secure location out near Ash Grove.”

  I didn’t want to reveal our actual destination to anyone who wasn’t going to be on our side when this was over. At this point, I had no way of knowing who was going to take my offer and who was going to spit in my face. Well, they’d do it figuratively. If they actually tried it, they weren’t going to live to see the sunrise. They were all lucky we didn’t kill them when we took the jail back.

  “We can’t stay here,” I said. “We have good information that says the military is going to begin bombing selected areas to cut down the zombie population. We can’t be in a populated area when that happens. This is your amnesty shot, folks. You can join us, or you can stay here.”

  “Leaving us here to die?” snapped Patterson. “That figures.”

  “What you do once we leave is up to you, asshole,” I returned. “We’ll leave you some supplies and weapons, but that’s it. I won’t be looking over my shoulder wondering if you’re trying to shoot me in the back. Besides, that’s still better than what you did to us.”

  “So you’ll leave us stranded here so the military will take us out,” snarled Patterson.

  “Shut the hell up,” snapped one of the SPD officers. “I’m sick of listening to you idiots. You talked us into turning on them just because they weren’t patrol officers. They’ve treated us way better than we
treated them.”

  His name-plate said Baker. I suddenly remembered him. We’d rescued him from the roof of the Stop N Rob when we rescued everyone from the drugstore. He was built like a linebacker and I could see the Recon tattoo on his left bicep, since he wasn’t wearing his uniform shirt. I made a mental note of that. Patterson started to say something else, but Gunny stepped in before he could.

  “Now would be a good time to shut your mouth, kid,” said Gunny, raising his shotgun in Patterson’s general direction. “Be quiet and let the man finish.”

  Patterson was stupid, but he got the hint and kept his mouth shut.

  “Any of you that want to go with us, speak up now,” I said. “We’re loading up the vehicles and preparing to move. But before you make your choice, I want to make one thing abundantly clear. If you turn on us again, I’ll kill you.”

  “That’s fair enough,” said Baker. “For my part, I’m sorry I ever sided with these morons. You guys have been fair with me since you pulled me off of that roof. I shouldn’t have repaid your kindness with betrayal. I’m sorry.”

  By the look on his face, I could tell that he was truly sorry for the way he’d acted. I was still a little skeptical, but I couldn’t afford to spend a lot of time with this. I was going to have to accept them or leave them behind. The decision had to be made quickly.

  “Thanks, Baker,” I replied. “I appreciate the apology. You’re in. Anyone else?”

  The other two SPD officers stood to join Baker. After a moment’s hesitation, six of the patrol deputies stood up. It didn’t really surprise me, though. I noticed that the only ones who remained seated and glaring at me were all young and had never spent any time in the jail. The “new” generation of patrol officer, they called them. They were just a bunch of kids who thought that only patrol officers were law enforcement and the rest of us were just wanna-be’s.

  “Alright,” I said, smiling. “Let’s get all of you geared up and put to work.”

  Baker looked surprised at that. I guess he wasn’t expecting us to trust them with anything for some time. The problem was I didn’t have the time to wait. I needed them now.

  “Gunny,” I said, “take them downstairs and get them armed and equipped. Once that’s done, put them to work loading the trucks.”

  “What about the rest of us?” demanded Patterson.

  “You go back into your cells,” I said. “Once we’re done loading the vehicles, I’ll come let you out.”

  “What about guns?” he whined. “You said you’d leave us guns and equipment.”

  “And we will,” I said, anger rising in my voice. “We won’t leave you to die like you would have done to us.”

  Patterson saw the anger in my eyes and seemed to deflate like a balloon. He’d lost and he knew it. The two Republic officers and three patrol deputies that stayed with him started to exchange unsure glances. It didn’t matter though, they’d made their decision. Now they would get to live with it.

  We ushered them back into their cells. I made certain that I was the one escorting Patterson. I was expecting trouble out of him. As a CO, you develop a good sense about when the person you’re escorting is about to try something. You can see it in their body language and the amount of tension in their body. I knew he was about to move before he did.

  When he started to spin, I was ready for him. I rushed forward and used his momentum against him, slamming him against the back wall of the cell. I had his left hand firmly gripped in my right hand and my left forearm pinning his head to the wall by the throat. He gripped my forearm with his free hand, but he couldn’t budge me. I had him by a good fifty pounds and I had leverage on my side. He was stuck fast, eyes bulging from shock and lack of air.

  “Listen to me, you little bastard,” I hissed. “I do this shit for a living. You’re in my world, now.”

  He gurgled something unintelligible by way of reply. His eyes were wide open and fixed on mine.

  “You wanted an enemy,” I snarled, “well you got one, asshole.”

  He managed to recover part of his composure and tried to kick me between the legs. I was ready for that. I was standing with my left leg forward and my right behind me. His kick landed against my lower leg on the outside. It hurt, but not enough to make me drop him.

  “Nice try, shithead,” I said, increasing the pressure against his throat. “No one’s ever tried to kick me before. Whatever shall I do?”

  Realization began to set in on Patterson’s face. He wasn’t in control and he knew it. I let that sink in well before I spoke again. I eased up on the pressure against his neck just enough that he could breathe, but not enough for him to be able to move.

  “I’ll give you safe passage, this time. Next time we meet, I won’t be so generous. You’d do well to avoid crossing my path, if you plan on living a long and healthy life.”

  Patterson just opened and closed his mouth like a landed fish, unable to form words. I think at that moment, he saw death in my eyes. That was good, because I meant every word of it. Next time we met, only one of us was going to live to tell the tale. But for now, I was going to be the better man and let him live.

  I started to relax my grip on his neck and released his left hand. I could see him relax and start to sigh in relief. In a flash, I drove my right hand into his stomach with all the force I could muster. He fell to his knees, violently retching onto the floor as I backed out of the cell. I said I was the better man. Not a nice man.

  “That’s for locking my family in a cell,” I said.

  Then I drove my fist into his temple, sending him sprawling onto his face in a puddle of his own vomit.

  “And that’s just because you’re a dick,” I added, and shut the door.

  I walked away smiling, listening to the sound of Patterson losing his lunch. The other officers had their faces pressed to the windows of their cells, wondering what had happened to their worthless leader. I left them to ponder that question and headed out of the pod.

  By the time I’d reached the first floor, I could see that things were well in motion. The Main Sliders were open and a steady stream of people were moving in and out, taking boxes and supplies out to the waiting trucks. Both Release doors were open as well. Heavy items were being loaded into the Hemmitts. Lighter items were being loaded into the Humvees.

  Spec-4 was overseeing the loading of boxes of MRE’s into the Humvee I’d come to call my own. You could tell it apart from the others by the bent front bumper and grill. She turned towards me and smiled as I walked up to her.

  “Almost done loading,” she said, jerking her thumb at the procession of boxes.

  “Good,” I replied. “How soon do you think we’ll be ready to move out?”

  “The Lieutenant has organized most of the civilians into the jail bus and the Fed Ex truck. The Hemmitts have all the heavy stuff.”

  “Outstanding,” I said, smiling. “Once we’re loaded we’ll organize security into the different vehicles. We’ll use the Humvees as lead and chase vehicles with the heavies in the middle.”

  “Just like convoy duty back in the ‘ghan,” she said, nodding.

  I glanced behind her and saw Sanders, Webber and Gunny approaching. Sanders had his arm out of the sling and was wearing his body armor. I knew that meant he was putting himself back into the fight. I was glad to have him back, but I really hoped that he didn’t injure himself, again.

  “Hey, Wylie!” called Gunny as they approached. “Got a second?”

  “Sure, Guns,” I replied. “What’s up?”

  “Sheriff Daniels has all the drivers and security people in the Briefing Room,” he said. “He wants to go over the game plan for the convoy.”

  “Alright,” I answered, “let’s go.”

  We all headed in to the Briefing Room and found the place already full. Everyone with the exception of the truck drivers was wearing body armor and carrying weapons. I could see SPD Officer Baker standing next to the other SPD officers. He just met my gaze and gave me a quick
nod. I returned it and smiled.

  “Listen up, people,” said Daniels. “Let’s get this started. The sooner we get through this, the sooner we can get on the road.”

  Everyone settled down and got quiet. Daniels waited a moment before continuing.

  “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll be taking the lead Humvee with Officer Shane riding shotgun. Behind me will be Gunny Graves in Humvee number two with Cal Sanders riding shotgun. The bus will be next with Corporal Halsey driving. The Lieutenant and the SPD Officers will provide security along with Wylie’s oldest son, Elliott. The Hemmitts will follow behind them with their drivers. The Fed Ex truck will be next with the guy Wylie nick-named Milkman driving it. He’s got Deputies Benson and Chandler riding shotgun for him.”

  I noticed he hadn’t called my name yet. I was kind of wondering what he had in mind.

  “Humvee number three will be Corporal Winston and Corporal Newberry driving. Grant and Wilder will be in the last Humvee, bringing up the rear. Once everyone is in their vehicles, you can release the people we’re leaving in the cells in Alpha Pod. When they’re released, you can open the gate and the convoy will exit. Then you and Wilder can catch up to the convoy.”

  I bit my lip to keep from saying anything. That meant that we’d be on our own getting to the Humvee and until we were back with the group. We already had our route planned and I knew it was already cleared of vehicle obstructions. That just left the living dead and anyone who might try to stop us. I wasn’t about to count the Freemen out of the equation, just yet.

  Spec-4 and I waited at the back of the room in my old spot in briefing, until the room was empty. When the Sheriff and the LT headed for the door, I flagged them down. They stopped and waited for me to come to them. I felt like a rookie officer, all over again. I’m not sure why, but it kind of pissed me off.

  “Sheriff,” I said. “Got a second?”