No one did.
“Ayes are for, Nay’s against, who votes for her?” he called out so everyone could hear.
Every hand shot up, some people holding up both, and they shouted their “Aye’s”.
“Nays?” he asked.
Silence.
“The Ayes have it” he said to loud applause and turned to her. Not taking a chance that she would come up with some other reason she couldn’t accept it, he unfastened her deputy badge and pinned on the star.
“Aren’t you supposed to ask me if I even want to do it? She asked under her breath.
“I got shanghaied into my job, and now so did you. Congratulations.” he said quietly so only she could hear.
He turned to stare at the men who had started this whole thing. He spotted the ringleader, the big bald man with the stringy billy-goat beard and a workman’s jacket with Casey on the name patch. “Good enough?” he asked. But it wasn’t really a question. It was a demand.
The big guy looked around at his buddies for backup, but they were staring at their feet and trying to be invisible, slowly shuffling backward. He thought about dropping his hand to his pistol to show he wasn’t intimidated by all this but then thought better of it when he was halfway there. He just let it hang in midair. This Gunny guy didn’t look like he was in the mood to take any crap. He had hard eyes. Ice cold and penetrating. His jacket was blood splattered and tucked behind a holster at his side. His hand was hanging loosely near the pistol. Not exactly threatening but certainly not friendly, either. It was in a Kydex holster and he had no doubt that the man was fast with it. It looked like a Glock, too. No safety to flip. Just pull and shoot. Maybe a half second and he’d have a bullet blowing the back of his head out onto the parking lot. He moved his hand in the opposite direction of his gun, slow and easy.
“Hey, we were just having a little fun, sir.” he said. “This darn whiskey makes me act a little stupid sometimes.” He chuckled and then turned the bottle upside down, dumping out its contents on the ground, showing him that he didn’t mean any harm. It was all just a misunderstanding. I’m really a nice guy, see? Gunny’s eyes never left his. Never turned to look at what his left hand was doing by taking his attention off of the right. Casey licked his lips, his smile feeling very strained.
This guy was a gunfighter. This guy was a killer.
“Casey,” Gunny said “A lot of us have been hitting it pretty hard these last few days. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
He didn’t have to say anything else. The implications were clear. You’d better not wake me up acting like an ass, you may not like me then. I may not be very nice then. I may put a hollow point in your stupid smiling face then.
“Yes, sir.” he said, quickly agreeing. “We probably will, too. Right guys?” he asked his friends.
They were fast with the head nods. Yes, indeed. It was time to stop drinking and settle in for the night. And live to see the sunrise. Casey’s forced smile faded as everyone turned and walked away, his thin lips curled into a snarl. Nobody embarrasses him like that. That uppity bitch deputy started all this. She was going to get what was coming to her. He snatched a bottle of Jim Beam out of the hands of one of his friends, daring him to say anything about it.
It was late when Collins quietly slipped back into the old Peterbilt. Gunny had been dozing but lightly, beating himself up for his actions. He’d made a mistake dealing with that clown. He hadn’t meant to but he’d undermined Collins authority. He’d stepped in and took over when he should have just kept his big mouth shut and been there if she needed him. He’d made her look weak. His temper leading him to do stupid things. Again. If Lacy were here, she would have given him one of her looks. It would have been enough to let him know he was getting out of line and he would have shut up.
He missed her. He needed her back in his life. He needed to get to Atlanta. She grounded him, kept him sober and honest. She gave him a reason to be a good man. Or at least to do his best.
“Hey, I’m sorry for jumping in like that, with that drunk guy.” Gunny said “I wasn’t trying to…” he trailed off, not sure exactly how to phrase what he wanted to say.
“It’s all right, Sir.” She said. “You were just trying to help.”
Oh boy. Gunny thought. She’s pissed.
He sat up and swung his feet over the bed, wanting to settle this face to face. There weren’t any lights on in the truck but it was facing out towards the fields and the moonlight made it easy to see her. She was already undressed and stood silhouetted in the silvery light, her hands frozen in place, pulling the pins out of her bun. He sat there for a second, speechless, then quickly moved his eyes away from her nakedness and up to her eyes.
“Uhhh.” His brain was frozen. Damn, those were some nice boobs. He wouldn’t look back down, though. Jeez, she undressed fast! What was it he was going to say to her?
“Uh” he started again. “Sorry.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you?” she asked, resisting her first impulse to try to cover herself like some startled teenager girl.
She was putting him on the spot. Damn, Gunny thought. Her way of payback? Nah. She was too professional for that, she was just making light of an embarrassing situation. Maybe. Probably. But if he said yes, he was sorry he’d seen them, then wouldn’t that be insulting? Wouldn’t he be telling her he didn’t like what he saw? She had ugly boobs or something? But if he said no, he wasn’t sorry, they were quite nice, thank you very much, then he’d be a creepy pervo.
Women.
This was a no-win situation.
“I’ll say I’m gay” he thought but then he started chuckling, closed his eyes and lay back down. He wouldn’t take another peek at those perky lovelies no matter how much he wanted to. Griz was in for a pleasant surprise if those two ever got together. The shirts she always wore weren’t very flattering and hid quite a bit.
“About the way I handled the drunk, yes. It wasn’t my place to do that. As far as your boobs go, I’m a guy. Once you’ve seen one…” He left it hanging.
“You want to see them all.” She finished and they both laughed a little.
He smiled. She had a sense of humor after all.
Chapter 27
General Carson
Under Cheyanne Mountain
“Well, Sir. He’s gotten them there.” Sergeant Evans said.
All of the survivors under Cheyanne Mountain were gathered in the communications center. After they had won the hard-fought battle of clearing the zones all the way to the dining facilities, it had become a habit for them to listen to the nightly calls from the Three Flags Crew. They were the last, best hope for rebuilding the country. Hell, they were the only hope for anything that would resemble the country as it was last month.
“His ideas with the containers was genius.” One of the young specialists said. “I never would have thought of that.”
“Nobody else probably would either. I guess he was the best choice, Sir.” Lieutenant Macleod said, acknowledging that he’d been wrong. He had argued against choosing a disgraced soldier for the new president but Carson had been adamant once he found out Meadows was alive. He said he knew him and he’d get the job done. The Lieutenant had been on the fence when it came time to disregard the orders of the so-called legitimate standing president. He was young and wasn’t as jaded as the General. He didn’t realize the lengths some people would go to maintain power. He had refused to believe that anyone other than the Middle East had been responsible for the infection. He knew better now.
Carson had heard only the vaguest whispers of a working super-soldier virus, things he acknowledged and filed away. The Deep State and Black Money Boys always had Brainiac’s coming up with one implausible idea after another. Sometimes their ideas came to fruition, most of the time they didn’t. It’s what they were paid to do, think outside the box. But there had been talk. WE had the virus, the damn Muslims didn’t. And that meant that WE gave it to them. As far as Carson was concerned
, anyone in Washington that wasn’t infected, that was already holed up in a safe location before it all started, was guilty. If they knew it was coming, they had a hand in planning it.
“He did what we thought he would. His psych eval said as much. He’d sacrifice everything for the greater good.” Carson replied.
“But it’s not over yet. He’s close but he’s got to get that wall built and then get over to McAlester. He’s going to need those supplies.” The lieutenant said.
“You don’t think he’ll take off for Atlanta? He sounded like he was ready to cut and run, let the rest of them secure the town.” Evans asked.
“He’ll stay.” Carson said. “At least long enough to make sure everyone is safe. The analyst noted that he had a God complex. He thinks he can do things others can’t or at least better than anyone else. He’ll make sure they’re as safe as he can before he takes off. It’s just the way he’s built.”
“Hell, Sir. He can do everything better than anyone else. Well, from the options we had, anyway. It’s a shame Cobb was too old. He would have been my first choice but I’m kind of surprised he’s made it this long.” The Lieutenant said. “I figured he’d keel over with a heart attack or something.”
“That old bastard is tough, he’ll probably outlive us all. He’s not a leader, though. The men respect him because of who he was. No one else will, especially not the civilians. I think he might be starting to catch on to our bit of subterfuge.” Carson said. “but he’s smart, he’ll play ball if he does figure things out. He knows how high the stakes are.”
“What do you think he’ll do when he finally figures out we just played him, made him think he was the president.” The Specialist asked.
“Probably be glad.” Carson replied. “He might get mad but he’ll realize it was for the best. Everyone else will, too. They never would have made it without him. Everything from welding the blades on the trucks, to the radio in Crow City to building the wall out of containers was his idea. I’m not saying somebody else couldn’t have done all that but nobody else was stepping up.”
The radio crackled on the main military channel and the same voice as always came over the air. It was some deputy of something or the other, demanding they answer immediately. They ignored him. In the beginning, in the first crazy hours of the outbreak when Catskill Mountain contacted them and asked for a status report, they were overjoyed. The country had survived. The new president was in charge and she was making things happen. It didn’t take long for Carson to figure things out, though. She knew about the infection. She knew it was coming and she had her own hand-picked cabinet already under the mountain. He didn’t know what was going on those first 24 hours, emotions were raw. He had watched the world die and then his own command base was overrun with the undead. He didn’t think she had intended it to go so viral. Maybe she’d been double-crossed by the Muslims, maybe the strain she gave them hadn’t been so potent and they modified it. Carson didn’t know. But he knew she wanted him to bypass the Nuclear Football and send warheads flying at Istanbul. That told him a few things. The real president and his line of succession were dead. The Muslims had something to do with it and she knew it and that she was and idiot. She didn’t understand that he couldn’t launch without the proper codes. She’d had a disdain for the military her entire career and had no knowledge of how it actually functioned. She demanded he “push the damn button or whatever it is you do and blow them off the map.”
She was livid. Things hadn’t gone according to her plan, apparently. Things were out of control. The conversation had gone downhill from there. He put two and two together quickly. He’d told her if he did have control of them, he’d most likely level the mountain she was under. He disavowed any allegiance to her, called her a traitor of the highest order and said he would see her hang for her crimes. He had been a little upset, he still had blood on his uniform and had watched his men being shredded. He was still reeling from the enormity of it all.
There were obviously no military men in her so-called cabinet, they would have known better. He told her he’d get some people working on manually rewiring the missiles. When he was finished, he’d send them her way.
She was probably so dumb she believed him. She probably had no clue the nearest missile to him was hundreds of miles away or that he was trapped.
He wished he hadn’t blown his top that first day, had played along to gain more intelligence but it couldn’t be helped. The Deputy of Whatever would continue demanding they answer for a few more minutes before giving up, if he stayed true to form. They must need something; otherwise why would they bother calling? Maybe they thought some of his soldiers would rise up in mutiny against him.
Maybe he’d tell Meadows about her and her plans to rule the world while he was over there in Atlanta. Maybe he’d pay her a visit.
He smiled to himself. It wouldn’t be the first time Gunny had paid somebody a visit.
Chapter 28
Lacy
South of Atlanta
Day 14
They had been circling the surrounding neighborhoods for days, looking for the Mercury. If they found it, they would find the kids she kept telling herself. Phil was getting edgy, he was convinced they had heard the same radio message. The one where Sergeant Meadows had warned them about the power plants and for everyone to try to get to Lakota. He was sure the kids left in a rush and took off for Oklahoma. They had probably been afraid of the radiation and didn’t take the time to pack much, just grab a bunch of guns and food as they ran out the door. That’s what he would have done. Lacy wasn’t so sure, though. The message was nearly a week old and if there were going to be nuclear explosions they would have already happened. From the crust and mold on the dishes, it looked like they’d been gone for days when she finally made it home but other things hinted that she had just missed them. The perfume still hanging in the air. The way things were just left sitting around like they were coming right back. She couldn’t tell if any guns were missing, she was sure there were, but if they were going all the way to Oklahoma, wouldn’t they have taken most of them?
She was convinced they were close and trapped somewhere. They didn’t have any battery powered radios in the house and even if they did, would the kids have thought about it? Jessie didn’t own a radio, he listened to music on his phone or computer. The only way she and Phil caught the transmission was when she had ejected the CD and hit scan on the radio. They had forgotten about it for the rest of the day as they drove around to the different Pharmacies and big box stores that carried medicine. The kids had to be at one nearby, she kept telling herself. They realized fairly quickly that those undead things would follow them forever so they kept zig-zagging and going miles out of their way to throw them off. It was nearly dark on their second day of an ever-increasing search grid. They had lost the mob in a tangle of streets a few miles away before they headed back to the house. Gunny’s voice suddenly came in loud and clear as the radio locked in on the station. They were both ecstatic when they heard him. He was calm and in control and urging everyone to make their way to Lakota. Phil wanted to leave the next morning but Lacy wouldn’t let herself go. She needed to make sure she had checked every street in a five-mile radius. One more day, she told him.
“I need to make sure.” She had said and he agreed. One more day. They would pack up then search to the west tomorrow, over towards the mall. If they weren’t there, then they would take off for Oklahoma and hope they got there before Johnny left again. Knowing him, as soon as he got that group to safety, he’d jump in his truck and head for Atlanta.
Chapter 29
Lakota
Day 15
Early the next morning the drivers drove their trucks all around the town, making lots of noise and patrolling every street, before an all clear was announced to allow the nearly 200 people spread out to claim their new homes. There wasn’t time to enjoy them, just the opportunity to stake their claim then move on to the various tasks they’d been assigned.
There were trucks to unload, generators to get setup, spoiled food to be cleaned out of the supermarkets, blood to be washed off the courthouse steps. Everyone understood if they discovered they were in an electricians house, or some other skilled profession, they should move on to the next one and let Liza know so she could pair people up with houses that most likely had workshops, manuals and tools of the trade.
Cobb had nearly a quarter of the people out on roving guard around the perimeter. Liza had organized a lottery to see who got to pick houses first. There had been some griping and trading around but it was all good-natured. There were plenty to choose from. They patrolled in pairs, always within sight of the next set of guards. He didn’t want anything running into town and causing another outbreak when it started biting people.
Gunny went to one of the houses farthest away from town that was still inside the perimeter they were going to build. It wasn’t country but it was as close as he was going to get. Decent shade trees, next to the reservoir, oversized garage. He hung his name on the door knob, claiming it as his, then headed back into town to see where the others had decided to call home. Scratch had a big Victorian near the center of town, Stabby had opted for one of the apartments in the downtown area directly above the Irish pub and Lars had taken over the 1st Central Oklahoma bank. He said he was going to crack the safe and sleep on piles of money. Griz was carrying what few clothes he had from his truck upstairs to the apartment above the Gun Shop when Gunny pulled up. He was in a late model Chevy pickup. It had been in the garage, the keys had been on the kitchen counter and the original occupants had been dispatched yesterday. The only blood was on the porch where they’d been lured out. The only mess in the house was the congealed leftover mess of bacon they had eaten before they turned. It was bittersweet but you couldn’t dwell on it. Just be glad you’re one of the few still alive.
Zombie Road (Book 2): Bloodbath on the Blacktop Page 24