The same soldier who had met Clark on the baseball field showed up at the door to the office. “Yes, sir?”
“Escort our good doctor over to the gymnasium,” General Dodge said.
Clark got up and shook hands with the general before following the young soldier out of the office.
LUKE
They were running late and Luke knew Matt was pissed. The man had wanted to leave before first light, when the rest of the world was still asleep, but the four of them had been disorganized and slow in getting their stuff to the basement. Part of the problem was everyone grossly underestimated the amount of crap they would want to haul down the fifteen flights of stairs to the parking garage. Matt put a nix on the beds and mattresses, but they still had to carry down sleeping bags, clothes, food, beer, weapons, ammunition, and general supplies. Luke made two round trips with his gear, plus his entire stash of smokes, enough for a few days, and decided that whatever else was still his on the top floor could stay there.
As Luke sat smoking the last of a cigarette and waiting for the rest of them, he looked around at their vehicle. It was a crappy delivery van with double doors at the back and was the only thing in the parking garage which was easy to hotwire while still being big enough for the four of them and all their supplies. A shame, Luke thought looking around the large space at all the nice cars and SUVs. His eye landed on a new, midnight blue Ford mustang. I’d much rather drive that one, he thought. Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers. He pulled another cigarette from his dwindling pack and made a mental count. Seven. I really need to layoff. Screw it, he thought and lit the new one with the butt of the old one, breathed in deep, and went back to contemplating the van. He could see why Matt wanted to put together a new ride before making the trip to Eastern Oregon. The van had seen better days. Still, it had worked well enough on their scavenging runs for the past three months. It had an extended ceiling, so a person could stand up in the back, and the engine ran as long as the driver took it easy. If not, the stupid thing would overheat and threaten to die, which was not good outside the hotel in zombie ground zero. Add in the four bald tires and Ted’s modification of cutting holes into the sides to shoot through, and the thing was quite frankly a piece of shit.
Should get us to the boatyard though, Luke thought. But I’m not taking any bets on it going any further. He finished his cigarette, thought about having another one but talked himself out of it. He really needed to ration himself until he found a fresh supply. After a minute, he lit another cigarette anyhow before he sat back and closed his eyes while he settled in to wait for the rest of them.
Matt was the only one organized enough to have to make only one trip down, but he went back up to help Pete and Ted. Luke watched the three men come across the garage with arms full of stuff. Holy crap, that is their third trip. What the hell are they bringing? Luke hopped out of the cab and helped them load the final boxes and bags. Pete’s crap alone nearly filled the back of the van. Luke watched Matt shake his head in irritation but the man held his tongue. Smart move, Luke thought. Getting Pete crying right now would not speed up the process. Finally, everything was loaded. Matt got into the front passenger seat, what Pete called the “Boss's Seat”, and Luke started up the van. After a few backfires and a big plume of black smoke, Luke drove the van to the exit. Pete and Ted, walking along behind, opened the security gate and then jumped in the back. As Luke drove away, he looked at the hotel in his side mirror and wondered if they should have gone back and closed the gate one last time. He still had a couple weapons and supplies stashed inside and he didn’t really want any innocent people sneaking inside and blowing their feet off on one of their traps, but Matt didn’t seem to care and Luke didn’t want to sound like a wimp, so he drove on without saying a word.
There had been light rain earlier in the morning, but as Luke drove, the sun was bright and shining. When was the last time I needed a pair of sunglasses? he wondered. If someone had told him way back when that Seattle got so much rain, he’d never had made the trip in the first place. With a sigh, he pulled out a cigarette, lit up and navigated the tricky roads around the hotel. In general the streets in the area were clear of cars and other junk, but Luke had to work his way around a couple staggering zombies. Seeing them, Ted started a game with Pete to find out which zombie could run the fastest. Ted started pounding on the side of the van to get the zombies attention and Pete got to giggling as one zombie started chasing them. When the zombie ran itself into a telephone pole, the two in the back erupted in so much laughter that Luke wondered, not for the first time, how much negative influence Ted was having on the boy. Luke thought about saying something to Matt but then decided against it again. What difference does it make to me anyway? he thought.
Luke drove on and other than the occasional zombie on the road and a broken down car to get around, the first few miles were easy going. They had scavenged this area enough that Luke knew his way around. It changed once they were past the East-West expressway. He was not familiar with the new streets and he knew there could be anything from military outposts to nests of zombies to marauder blockades around each corner. Luke lit another cigarette from the previous to try to steady himself and drove along with the cigarette hanging on his lip and his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. He tried to ignore Ted and Pete, who were still screwing around in the back, and glanced at Matt beside him. Matt looked like he was out for a Sunday drive in the city. Damn, Luke thought, he looks like he’s ready to just fall asleep. Luke had no idea how Matt could be so calm when at any second they could be attacked. “We on the right track?” Luke asked, trying to get Matt to at least pay attention. Matt shrugged.
“Yeah. Another few miles. I tell you what, go ahead and take a left here. We can cut through on the city streets,” Matt said. Luke made the turn and suddenly the road became further congested as two lanes each way became two lanes total. Luke’s palms began to sweat. Trash, overturned cars, dumpsters, and decomposing dead bodies littered the road.
“Christ, what a mess,” Luke complained. He cut their speed as he navigated the bulky, unresponsive van around and over what he could.
“Relax,” Matt said. “We’re almost there.” Luke did not relax. He saw a lazy blind curve ahead and he did not like the looks of it. Anything could be around it. Driving even slower, he made the turn and then suddenly sat up straight in the driver’s seat and slapped the steering wheel. “Oh, shit!” he said and unconsciously threw out his half smoked cigarette. In the road ahead of them was a horde of zombies that appeared to be interested in something in the road.
Matt leaned forward and looked through the windshield. Ted and Pete were wrestling in the back and shouting at each other. “Hey!” Matt yelled at the two of them. “Shut the hell up!”
“What’s going on?” Ted asked from the back. Luke stopped the van and ignored him.
“Are we lost?” Pete asked.
“No,” Matt replied. “What the hell are all those bastards looking at?”
Luke looked closer and then realized what he was seeing. His stomach clenched. “There’s a car under that pile of zombies,” he said. “And I think there are people in it.” Luke stared at the car. Those people are still alive, he thought as he watched the zombies climb all over the vehicle, scratching and clawing at the windows. There were at least two people inside and it looked like the car had high centered going over some debris. There was no way it was driving away now. Luke knew they could help. I could honk the horn, maybe drive through the mob and run down a few of the zombies. His group had guns, a whole stockpile of ammunition.
“What are we going to do?” Pete asked.
“Not our problem,” Matt said.
Luke grit his teeth. He knew Matt was right but he still did not like it. It would be stupid to put themselves in harm’s way for some people that they didn’t know. In this world, no one did anyone favors. But still …
“Let’s move,” Matt said.
&nbs
p; Luke sighed and lit a fresh cigarette. “Which way?” he asked.
Matt looked around. “I don’t know,” he said and pointed down a side street. “Take a right.”
Luke hit the gas and followed Matt’s direction. The side road was cluttered, but Luke was able to pass through. He took the next left, drove a city block, and took another left. At the next intersection he could see the car again, this time from the other side. The driver’s side door was open and the zombies were climbing over each other to get inside. Holy Mother, Luke thought and closed his eyes. That could so easily be us.
“Hey!” Matt snapped. “Pay attention.”
Luke popped open his eyes and saw two zombies sprinting straight at them from the right. Frustrated and pissed off, Luke floored the accelerator and turned toward the oncoming zombies. I should have tried to do something to save those people. “Watch this, Pete!” he yelled. Pete stuck his head between the two front seats just as Luke plowed into the two zombies. One of the heads ripped off and smashed against the windshield, splintering the glass.
“Awesome!” Pete said and started giggling.
“Yeah, awesome,” Luke muttered. Suddenly sick and tired of the life he was trapped in, Luke kept on the gas and drove hard down the narrow street with his cigarette clamped between his teeth. He pushed the van as fast as he could make it go, yanking the steering wheel left and right to get around trash and cars in the road. Matt still just looked bored.
“Take it easy, Earnhardt,” he said. “You want the next left.”
Screw you, Luke thought and accelerated through the turn, squealing the wheels, and knocking Pete laughing into Ted in the back of the van. With the pedal to the floor, Luke drove as fast as he could past an old weathered sign that read Bowman Shipyard and knew they were there just in time as steam began to pour up from under the hood. Luke hit the brakes, bringing the van to a screeching halt. Before the engine had even died, he jumped out of the cab to suck the last puff off of his cigarette and light another. He heard Matt get out of the passenger’s side and walk around to him.
“We feeling better now?” Matt asked. Luke nodded. He did feel better actually. Nothing like a little road rage, he thought while taking a look around. He looked down the Westside Freeway and noticed for the first time that the bridge was out. It looked like someone had run a container ship into it when the bridge was down, probably in a panic to escape the apocalypse. Luke hadn't noticed the damage when they were driving in the van and he imagined how many people had driven up that bridge in the dark and drove right out into nowhere. That would be one hell of a wakeup call, he thought and wondered how long it would take to hit the water. Shaking his head at the image, he focused on the boatyard.
From what he could see, it was everything Matt had promised. The fence line was state of the art prison grade and completely secure. Cement blocks at each of the posts and triple coils of barbed wire ran along the top. The fence itself ran deep into the concrete so there was no gap below. Working here must have felt like you were working in prison, he thought. Walking the fence line, he was definitely impressed but immediately wondered how in the hell they were going to get inside. The fence was designed to keep people out. People just like him. He stuck his finger through one of the chain links. It was not even raw metal. It had been coated with something to make it harder to cut through. Maybe if I got on top of the van I could climb over, but it has to be fifteen feet to the top and even if I could get through the razor wire, I don’t like the idea of jumping down to the concrete on the other side. He walked over to the gate and found it was not going to be any easier to get through. This Bowman guy must have had some issues.
Finished with his assessment, Luke walked back to the van. Any plan he might have been forming to use the vehicle to bust through the gate was worthless. The van was as good as dead. The two zombies he had run into crushed the front end. Steam boiled out from under the hood and green antifreeze dumped into the street. Ted and Pete got out and came around to stand next to Matt and Luke.
“We ain’t going to make it to Zombie Free Country in this,” Pete said, clearly disappointed. “So now what?”
Matt put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It was never supposed to, remember?” Pete looked confused. “Never mind,” Matt continued. “Okay, next step. Into the boatyard.”
Luke looked at Matt. “And how are you going to pull that off? It’s Fort Knox.”
“I’ve got a plan,” Matt said.
“Good,” Luke said.
“All we need to do is find a rowboat or something and come in by the water,” Matt explained.
Luke looked out at the water. The fence extended along the side of the bay and wrapped around to a guardhouse. He looked down the length of the compound and could see another gatehouse at the far corner as well. A mini marina ran between the houses along the water’s edge. “I’m kind of surprised Bowman didn’t put another fence back there,” he said.
“He didn’t need to,” Matt said. “Back before everything went to hell those gatehouses were staffed all day and night, twenty four by seven. Nothing came in or went out without being logged. Old man Bowman even had some deal with the Coast Guard. Some kind of shit where he dropped these big donations. In return, they helped keep an eye on his factory.”
“Ain’t no Coast Guard anymore,” Ted said.
“No, there is not,” Matt agreed. “I figure with all these fancy houses on the water around here, all we have to do is find one that still has a boat tied up.”
Luke was not so sure it was going to be that easy, but anything was better than standing around doing nothing more than waiting for a herd of zombies to come along. “Works for me,” he said.
“Good,” Matt replied. “Get your shit and let’s get a move on.”
The four of them went around to the back of the van. Ted opened it up and they began to select their guns. Luke preferred a shotgun and picked up his favorite, a police issue automatic that fired 12-gauge rounds from 10-round detachable magazine. They had taken it from a police cruiser about a month before. The thing kicked like a mule and made a crap-ton of noise, but it was a zombie mauling machine. He also stuck an aluminum baseball bat and a fresh pack of cigarettes into his backpack and slung the whole thing over his shoulder with the handle of the bat sticking out of the top. Luke preferred to not use the bat, but there had been a couple times it had saved his life when ammo ran out. Plus, he used it for silent kills when he had to. Nothing like the rattle of gunfire to bring zombies on the run, he thought.
Matt selected a .44 magnum pistol, what he liked to call his “Dirty Harry” gun, and tucked it into his belt. He also picked up a sledgehammer and carried it on his shoulder. Ted’s choice of weapon was an UZI he had used since before Luke had met him. Luke thought it was a typical crackhead choice, but he could not argue with its effectiveness against a horde. Luckily, the 9mm ammunition was relatively easy to find because the hillbilly was all about spray and pray with the thing. Pete had an MP5. Another find from a police cruiser. To Luke it looked like one of the guns the elite police used on television and in the movies. He was always nervous when Pete had it out because the kid wasn’t big on safety, but it was still a good weapon.
Finally, they were all armed and ready to move. “Let’s go, ladies,” Matt said and the four of them left from the back of the van and walked north across the highway and in the direction of the first gated community.
TASHA
Tasha was exhausted. The trip had been long, much longer than she had expected it to be. She had not anticipated having to work so hard to avoid creepers and signs of other survivors. Although she had finally made it safely to Alki Park and to the base of Broken Top, it had been dicey. She had seen creepers at a distance many times, but thankfully had not been detected by anyone or anything along the way. She had been careful, stopping every block to look and listen and then sprint to the next bit of cover. The exercise had tired her out immensely a
nd she realized she was in lousy physical shape. All those months in the cannery, hiding in the dark … I’m paying for it now, she thought. Before the apocalypse, back in high school, she had been a three-sport athlete. Tasha had never considered herself to be a jock, but she had liked sports and participated in volleyball, basketball, and had been a standout on the school’s track team. Her last year had been her best season where she placed second at the state championships in the 100 meter hurdles.
None of that mattered now. Her legs were already spent and wobbly, yet she needed to climb Broken Top and she needed to do it soon. Being out in the open made her nervous. An old weathered sign said that she had 0.6 miles to go to get to the top. It was a steep, one way climb with an elevation gain of 313 feet. The sign also said there was a day use fee for the park. Pretty sure no one will be checking for those again any time soon, she thought. Looking up the road, she remembered how she had made the hike up to the top a few times before with her family and on those trips it had been a nice little walk. The memory made her ache inside and tears welled up in her eyes. Her family was gone now, victims of the virus. Tasha angrily wiped at her eyes. Don’t think about that! she scolded herself and walked forward past the sign and onto the road. She had only gone a few feet and around a small bend when she saw an old van on four flat tires parked right in the middle of the only way up. Pausing to watch, she soon realized there were two creepers stirring around inside of it. She immediately ran to the side of the road and hid in a narrow strip of brush. The last thing she needed was to be seen by creepers.
She spent the next hour exploring the hill’s base and tried to find another way up. Unfortunately, there was nothing. The sides of the hill were very steep, almost shaved straight up and down, reinforced during the second World War when they had put the bunkers in at the top of the small mountain. It was obvious that the military had purposely made sure that there was only one way up or down. Damn, Tasha thought, why did they have to do their job so well? Seeing it was hopeless to try to make it to the top without going up the road, she went back to watching the van. Laying on her stomach in the bushes, Tasha waited and hoped the creepers would wander off or something, but they seemed content to hang out inside the van. Frustrated, she was sure she would not be able to get around them without drawing their attention. If I’m going to get up to that base, I’m going to need a distraction, she thought. Never taking her eyes off the van, Tasha slipped off her backpack as quietly as she could and felt inside for her cans of cat food. She found two and set them in the dirt next to her before putting her pack back on. Once it was set, she tightened the straps until she was confident it would not slow her down. She got to one knee and picked up the two cans of cat food. Holding her breath, she threw the first one and it landed next to the van and skidded off and over the side of the road. The two creepers shot out of the van so fast Tasha almost cried out in surprise. They startled a third, which Tasha had not even seen, lying in the ditch. All three scrambled after the can. Tasha watched as they rooted around looking for whatever had made the noise, but after a few minutes, when they could not find it, the three of them slowly drifted to the far side of the road.
Outbreak (Book 1): Emerald City Page 5