The Undead Chronicles (Vol. 2): Darker Days

by O'Brian, Patrick J.

  “You’re not wrong about that,” Metzger admitted. “And why would you call Jillian my girlfriend? We barely knew each other.”

  “Well, she kind of let it slip that you guys, well, you know.”

  Sutton made a sexual gesture with both of his hands, forming a penis with one and a vagina with the other before a brief demonstration.

  Metzger hung his head and groaned.

  “Why the fuck do they have two guys watching you?” Sutton inquired, obviously wanting to get his plan into motion.

  “How do you know about that? And where are they?”

  “They’re being distracted by Buster’s adorable nature. And I’ve been watching this place since noon. I managed to get a game plan together once I saw where they were stashing you.”

  “I can’t,” Metzger said.

  “Why would you stay?” Sutton questioned. “I overheard some workers talking about your brother. I’m sorry about what happened, Dan, but there’s nothing left for you here.”

  “My sister-in-law and nephew are here, Colby. I can’t just bail on them.”

  “What good can you do for them while you’re being treated like a prisoner?”

  Sutton made a good point, and his words echoed what Metzger began to contemplate the past few days.

  “Even if I agree to this, how the fuck do we get out of here without being spotted?” Metzger asked.

  “The same way I came in. They’ve got people patrolling the fences, the sea, and the town, but there aren’t enough soldiers to cover every inch.”

  “It’s still a huge risk.”

  “We can come back for your family,” Sutton suggested. “It looks like it’s you the government wants, not them. We get clear and recover them at a later date.”

  “No,” Metzger said. “I made my choice. I have to live with it. You and Jillian will have to make up some other way.”

  Sutton appeared disappointed, not because Metzger turned him down, but because he genuinely wanted a friend at the moment. For his part, Metzger needed to ensure the remainder of his family was safe, and running away might cause them additional problems.

  “For once in your life be selfish,” Sutton requested, his eyes showing his anguish over Metzger’s answer. “Trust me, you’ll live longer.”

  “But there are consequences, Colby. You probably know a little something about that.”

  Sutton was about to answer when the door opened again, causing both of them to assume attack stances, but a confused Isabella poked her head inside.

  “Who’s this?” she asked of Sutton.

  “An old friend,” Metzger answered quickly. “How the hell does everyone keep sneaking over here?”

  “Your bodyguards were distracted,” Isabella answered before turning her attention to Sutton. “Why exactly are you here?”

  “Good to meet you, too,” Sutton responded. “Actually, I was trying to break him out of here.”

  “Me, too.” She faced Metzger. “Dan, we have to leave immediately.”

  “Why all the sudden?”

  “There’s a very good chance Bryce is alive.”

  Metzger felt his heart sink. He didn’t like seeing Isabella with false hope more than a week removed from the Buffalo incident.

  “Izzy, I saw what happened. He would’ve died within a few days at most. He wouldn’t be the Bryce we remember.”

  He went to give her a supportive hug, but she shoved him away rather forcefully.

  “I know the difference, Dan. There’s a reason why the military has kept tabs on you, and if Bryce had come back they would’ve done the same with him.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “There’s no time,” Isabella said, taking hold of both of his hands. “I’ve got Nathan packed, and I have a plan to get us out of here. Can you trust him?”

  She bobbed her head towards Sutton when she posed the question.

  “I’m right here,” Sutton said, growing irritated, holding up his hands as he looked at Isabella.

  “I trust him,” Metzger replied, wholeheartedly believing his words.

  “We need to go, now,” Isabella insisted as the door opened, and someone entered holding a gun in his right hand that he aimed at no one in particular.

  “Scott?” Metzger asked, surprised that Timmons left his runway area for any reason other than meals.

  “I heard a voice I didn’t know,” Timmons said, aiming his sidearm directly at Sutton.

  “He’s a friend,” Metzger said. “Are you in on this plan, too?”

  “Against some of my better judgment, yes,” Timmons answered, lowering his firearm and holstering it. “Your sister-in-law made a compelling case.”

  Timmons ushered Nathan into the shack from behind him, letting the door close to conceal their secret meeting. Wearing blue jeans, the brown shoes issued to pilots, and a button-up shirt, the captain appeared to mix uniform pieces with clothing he’d wear outside of the base.

  “Fine,” Metzger said, keeping his voice low. “If we’re leaving, we need to do it quickly before they discover this little slumber party.”

  He knelt down beside his nephew, who appeared confused by the sudden change of events.

  “You doing okay, Nate?”

  The boy nodded bravely.

  “Good,” Metzger replied. “We’re going to play a little game where we sneak off the base without any of the soldiers seeing or hearing us. Think you can be super quiet for me?”

  Nathan nodded affirmatively again, eager to please.

  “Good boy,” Metzger said, giving him a quick hug.

  “The two guards were messing with a dog out there,” Timmons commented.

  “Buster,” Sutton said. “He’s mine. And he knows to keep them busy until I call for him.”

  “That helps,” Timmons said, “but we still have to time our departure just right, and even packing light like we did, that won’t be easy.”

  He opened the door for a peek outside, closing it quickly.

  “They’re still preoccupied,” he reported. “Most of the base is quiet this time of night, but we’ll still have to slip past the patrols.”

  “That won’t be easy with five of us,” Metzger noted.

  “I memorized their movements and timing this afternoon,” Sutton said. “Do they keep the same routine at night?” he posed his question to Timmons.

  “So far as I can tell. Even in this world the military still does things by the book.”

  “How would you not know?” Sutton questioned. “You work here, don’t you?”

  “Hey, I spend more than half my time in the air, or landing in some undead hot zone so we can try and rebuild this world.”

  “Sounds like you’re still a company man to me,” Sutton commented.

  “Colby,” Metzger said, motioning with his hand for his friend to settle down. “If the captain wanted to turn us in, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  Isabella stepped in the middle of everyone, covering her son’s ears when she spoke.

  “We don’t need bickering. This isn’t what any of us expected, but it’s the hand we’ve been dealt. Now let’s get the fuck out of here before something goes wrong.”

  Metzger stepped toward the door.

  “Let me go first,” he said to everyone. “If my stalkers are being attentive, I can pretend I’m going for a jog and get out some other way. It’ll buy the rest of you time.”

  “I’m parked about a mile away at some sports bar,” Sutton said.

  “I think I know it,” Metzger said, recalling the layout of Norfolk from visits before the apocalypse. “Or at least the area where most the bars were located.”

  He gave a nod before opening the door, expecting to draw the attention of two dutiful men assigned to watch him at all times. Instead
, they were around the corner trying to get Buster to come to them, but he was playing hard to get. The closer they got, the further he trotted away, keeping his eyes on the soldiers and his position so he didn’t get cornered. Avoiding the undead provided him with excellent senses and instincts.

  A glance around the shack showed no other personnel walking through the base in the vicinity, so Metzger took a step outside, motioning behind him for everyone else to follow. They did so, and he led them to the side of the shack where the two men couldn’t see them, even if they looked away from Buster momentarily.

  Seeing several duffel bags packed with belongings and supplies, Metzger motioned for Sutton to lead them to safety since he seemed self-assured that his surveillance was accurate. Each of them picked up a packed bag, and Isabella handed one to Metzger personally. He looked at her strangely until his right hand felt what he believed was a sword handle through the canvas material.

  He gave her a smile and followed Sutton to the area where numerous ships remained docked since their arrival to Norfolk. Unfortunately, all of the buildings were further back on the base, leaving them completely exposed in a wide-open area if anyone spotted them. The group moved quickly, however, staying in the darker patches where the light didn’t leave them readily visible.

  Some of the personnel guarding the ships stayed at the bottom of the ramps, while others loomed above on the ships. Sutton slowed to monitor each ship as they passed, finding the dock area dark unless patrol boats came by with their spotlights. They sent a beam along the water and the shore when the armed men turned it. One of the docked ships had a yawning soldier at the base of the boarding ramp and Metzger didn’t see a way around him without backtracking. Before they drew too close, Sutton whistled for Buster, who broke away from the two soldiers outside of Metzger’s residence. Barely visible, the two men appeared upset that the canine bolted from their location, but they dutifully turned their attention to the shack they were assigned to.

  No signs remained that the resident had departed, and Metzger prayed the group could slip past the remaining watchmen and posted guard shacks.

  Buster returned to Sutton, wagging his tail before immediately darting to Metzger for some attention, remembering his former travel companion. Metzger rubbed the dog’s back a few times and scratched his head before Sutton whispered a command to the canine with a finger pointing out a direction. Buster immediately took off and distracted the sailor at the base of the ship moored closest to the city. If the group slipped past this man, they simply needed to wait for an opening at one of the guard shacks, hopefully passing unseen by the guards or anyone walking the perimeter.

  “Who trains their dog to distract people?” Metzger whispered to Sutton.

  “It’s a natural talent because he’s so cute,” Sutton answered. “He’s also highly trainable.”

  Carrying out his task perfectly, Buster ran up to the sailor, who couldn’t resist bending over to pet him. Buster allowed a few gentle scratches behind his ears before moving in the opposite direction of his owner, allowing Metzger and the others to move forward without detection.

  Each of them scoured in every direction, and Metzger was impressed how quiet his nephew remained, as though the boy knew the importance of them exiting the base. He worried that Nathan didn’t understand the gravity of what awaited them beyond the small city, because Isabella was savvy enough to shelter in place until the military came and got her.

  Staying in the shadows, along the side of the base, the group stopped twice when random people drew near them, simply walking within the base. Foliage and buildings were scarce near the front of the base, so they hoped darkness was enough to keep them hidden. At one point Sutton executed his unique whistle sound, summoning Buster, who left another military man heartbroken because he couldn’t follow the dog.

  Scampering even half the distance of the base was exhausting under ordinary conditions, and the group had added weight in the form of duffel bags and mental fatigue from fear of being spotted. When they reached the far corner of the base, the group stopped in a precarious location as the gate guards stood just outside the base speaking with a patrol unit consisting of two additional soldiers.

  “We could make it,” Timmons urged, nodding toward the guard shack.

  “Then we’d be forced to run that way, which puts us in the sight of the next shack,” Sutton replied. “We’re better off waiting for this little soiree to conclude.”

  “What then?” Metzger inquired. “We still have two guards to deal with.”

  “Hopefully Buster can work his magic,” Sutton said, scratching the dog behind the ears.

  Closing his eyes in a canine form of ecstasy, Buster devoured the attention, and Sutton finally gave him a treat which he appeared to eat in one gulp.

  “And if he can’t work his magic?” Metzger pressed.

  “Then we get a little physical,” Sutton replied. “No one dies, I promise.”

  Silently, the group waited nearly five minutes for the patrol and the guards to talk about little of importance. Metzger breathed in the cool night air, realizing the one thing about the base he’d miss was the fresh odors of being near the ocean. While the winds and weather weren’t always accommodating, not once had he smelled death on the base. The military carried out an efficient extermination of the nearby undead, and kept their home clear.

  When the patrol left, they drove in the direction of the next guard shack, which left the group home free if they managed to get past the guard shack within their view. Sutton whispered to Buster once again, and the dog trotted off to distract the two guards, who eyed him warily, rather than coax him to the shack.

  Metzger watched their actions, and they seemed to question how he got inside the base, and if he was healthy enough to handle.

  Soon enough, the two men called Buster over, but he walked in the other direction, trying to get them to follow, despite their repeated calls to him. One soldier took a few steps toward the dog, but neither man left the vicinity of the guard shack.

  “So much for that,” Metzger said with disappointment. He turned to Timmons. “Are there any weak links to this fence?”

  “How would I know?” the pilot retorted. “I’m always on the other side of the base. You already know they aren’t going to leave weaknesses for the dead or scavengers to sneak through.”

  Metzger concurred.

  “I’m not going to ask you to hurt your own people,” he told Timmons. “Hell, I don’t even want to do this, but me and Colby will deal with the guards.”

  Timmons provided a thankful nod.

  Metzger followed Sutton along the inside track of the fencing that separated the base from the outside world. Both soldiers kept their focus on Buster, which made reaching the guard shack rather easy, but as Sutton approached the first soldier, the man turned, spotting him before Sutton was fully prepared to assault the man. The soldier tried swinging his rifle at Sutton, but the larger man caught the firearm with both hands, keeping it from doing harm. Metzger dropped his bag beside the fence, prepared to assist his friend.

  Sutton managed to throw a punch that caught the man under the jaw, staggering him. Metzger dashed up to the now distracted second solider, catching him off-guard, but the man wore a helmet, making a blow the head rather useless. Instead, Metzger raised his knee, striking the man in the nose before throwing a solid right hand that caught the man along the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Pinning him down, Metzger found a set of zip ties along the man’s belt. He grabbed one and secured the man, who continued to struggle. Fortunately, the man wore a handkerchief in his front pocket, so Metzger snagged it and stuffed it inside the soldier’s mouth to keep him from calling for assistance.

  Metzger felt bad for leaving his victim a bloody mess from the nose area, but he couldn’t risk any shooting or screams for help so close to their escape.

  He looked up, finding Sutton h
ad rendered his adversary entirely unconscious, already dragging the man back to the guard shack. Sutton dropped him next to the other soldier, slightly winded from the brief encounter.

  “Here,” Metzger said, handing him a zip tie. “Find something to gag him in case he comes to.”

  Sutton searched the guard shack, quickly locating a rag of some sort that he stuffed into the man’s mouth.

  “That was a quick knockout,” Metzger commented, motioning for the others to join them.

  “Glass jaw,” Sutton said before whistling for Buster.

  Catching the men unaware of impending danger helped their cause, and Metzger felt certain that adrenaline aided his attack. Dragging the two soldiers into the shack, Metzger and Sutton emerged to find everyone ready to exit the base. Metzger retrieved his bag, taking up the rear, but his mind kept reliving the words his sister-in-law spoke about Bryce possibly being alive. He believed her, and Isabella wasn’t someone who fell for tricks or flimsy evidence, so something she discovered backed her words.

  Once they cleared the guard shacks, the group picked up their pace, heading for Sutton’s box truck. Metzger hadn’t asked how they were all supposed to fit inside, but he knew only one viable solution worked for transporting five people.

  Some of them rode in the back.

  “Where are we going?” Metzger asked of Sutton and Isabella while they all took brisk steps.

  Both gave completely different answers, Sutton indicating their old group, while Isabella replied ‘Buffalo’ without hesitation.

  “We don’t have time for both, so I need to hear what you have to say, Izzy, if we’re going to make a run for Buffalo.”

  “You’re going to want Buffalo,” Timmons assured him.

  Metzger assumed his sister-in-law hadn’t recruited the pilot, asking him to break an oath to the military, for no good reason.

  “I can’t promise Bryce is alive,” Isabella said, stopping in the middle of the street, “but I wouldn’t put Nathan through all of this if there wasn’t a good chance.”