• ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙
Brady made his way to get the Captain’s approval to use the generators and discovered what the Captain's unit had been doing. They had spent the past hour collecting equipment and proceeded to play golf on the base course. Brady found their profitless activities of little amusement. Although he had only been with this group since Kansas City, obvious differences kept him from meshing well with the group.
“Brady,” the Captain yelled as Brady approached, “you’re missing all the fun.” The Captain then proceeded to tell the story of how they came to be playing golf. The Captain always seemed to have stories of one sort or another, “So we find this taser on one of the guards, right?” A fondness of asking questions without waiting for the answer sprinkled the Captain’s conversations. “We’re all walking around wondering what to do. So we decide to raid the commissary. And who do we find there but this undead shopping the aisles. When I say ‘shopping’ I mean shopping. He’s all turning over the containers and checking the ingredients. I’ve never seen anything like it! So we stand there and watch him for a while because it’s so crazy.”
The man standing beside the Captain chimed in, “I’ve seen living people care less about what they eat.”
The Captain quickly waved his hand signifying for the man to stop talking. “Alright, I’m telling the story! But don’t tell McCoy or we’ll have a mile long argument about how this means zombies are intelligent. I’m sure he’d want to dissect one and see if its brains are reforming like normal humans. But not me, I’m a simple man. I don’t care why he’s shopping. The first thought in my head is, ‘I wonder if tasers work on zombies.’ And I’ll be damned they do! One of the funniest things I’ve ever seen!”
“Seriously funny,” the same man commented.
The Captain allowed the comment to slide this time. “He’s all convulsing and grunting on the floor. His hand accidentally rips open the container of cereal he’s holding and Cheerie O’s go everywhere.
“So once we did that for a while, we were gonna kill him, but Snipes here says he found a golf course. And that’s how we invented Zolf. You tie up a zombie about half way down the course. You can put him farther but it’s more fun closer up. Then get yourself a bucket of balls and go at it.” At this last comment several of the men snickered. “Like I said I’m not a complicated man. I like the simpler things in life.
“So it comes to naming the game. The invention will be our claim to post-apocalyptic fame. It’ll be part of the Olympic Games! So Doc here wanted to call it Golmbie. But he might as well be a zombie. He’s got the brains of one. So guess what we called this glorious sport.”
“Zolf,” Brady responded coldly. “You already told me that.”
The Captain looked Brady up and down with a disappointed look. “You are one dry fish, Brady. You know that? Go ahead and try your luck.” The Captain handed him a club and nodded towards the bucket of golf balls. “So far, me and Snipes are the only ones who’ve hit him.”
Brady sighed and desperately tried not to think about how all this was a giant waste of time. After forming half an argument about how the world was falling to pieces and all the Captain wanted to do was play pointless games, he decided to keep silent. He was already enough of an outsider without alienating himself further. After two shots and blaming his bad luck on the drivers, he attempted to return to the business at hand. But unfortunately, the Captain started another story before Brady could interrupt him.
The Captain’s story centered around his time in Vietnam and how they used to do this kind of stuff with their prisoners. Brady couldn’t stand the Captain most of the time. It was bad enough that he told boldfaced lies, but on top of that he was ridiculous about it. He lied like a 3 year old. Half the stories didn’t even make sense or go along with stories he’d already told. In Kansas, they passed by a military base that started the Captain talking about how he’d received the Bronze Medal for his service as a black ops sniper. The ridiculous thing about it was that later that day someone handed him a rifle to show off his skills and he couldn’t hit a zombie 30 feet away. To everyone besides Brady, the stories became a running joke. The men couldn’t wait to hear what ridiculous thing he’d make up next. Although Brady could barely believe it to be possible, the Captain would outdo himself almost every time. The more stories he told, the more outlandish they became. Truly, it was more comical than anything. When times were dull, some started stories just to have the Captain finish them.
With the ridiculous Vietnam story out of the way, Brady finally presented his plan and immediately received approval. Despite being new to the group and suffering some isolation, the Captain respected Brady. Brady gave off a confidence about what he did. He seemed to know a lot about any assortment of topics. But the immediate approval of the Captain came at a price. Although everyone could see Brady truly was good at what he did, few liked him. They envied his easy entry into the Captain’s graces. Some considered Brady altogether untrustworthy and regarded his long talks with the Captain as a sly attempt to infiltrate or take over the group.
Receiving the answer he wanted, Brady gathered some men and moved the generators into place. He booted up several servers and networking equipment. To Brady’s surprise with minor adjustments, he was able to connect to multiple satellites. Astonished at himself, Brady sat back as he looked at a real time view of the US from one of the satellites. The country before him stood in a sad state. Several fires, easily visible by the columns of smoke, burned across several western states. Brady couldn’t wait for night to see if any lights appeared. Civilizations would be easy to spot now that the US power grid came down. His fingers almost tingled with the information he found.
• ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙
The Captain and his men resupplied the Humvees and now came to find Brady. Brady spent the majority of his time scanning the satellite image and searching the hard drives for valuable information. By the time the Captain entered the server room, Brady found what he wanted.
“Sir,” Brady began, “I’ve found some documentation on what appears to be an early case of the zombie infection. According to the notes, the subject showed infectious signs months before it went public. It appears they shipped the subject to a mountain base here called Cheyenne Mountain Complex and the bulk of the findings are located there.”
"That sounds like an excellent place to check out," the Captain replied.
Brady continued, “I’ve also been able to connect to several satellites which means someone is still out there managing things.”
“Any ideas from where?” The Captain asked.
“If we could reconnect to the satellites at night, I could tell you if areas of the US have lights on. Unless they’re underground, we should be able to spot them. The mountain complex will have the ability to link up to the satellites just like I did here.”
Snipes chimed in, “Will whoever is managing the satellites be able to tell we’re accessing them?”
“Possibly. I suppose it depends on how good they are.”
The Captain now feared for the safety of his group. “Is there any way to see if they’ve detected you already? I’d rather not give away our position to anyone.”
“I don’t know of any way to tell unless they kick me off the link.”
“Are they watching us right now?” the Captain seemed to unsettle himself by expressing his fears out loud. His eyes grew wide and he looked about the room as if expecting to find eyes in the walls. “Let me know if you notice anything - weird.” He spoke the last with the tone of a ten year old telling a ghost story.
“Well if they have control of the satellites, they’re probably watching everyone’s movements. That’s what I’d be doing.”
“Is anything secret from them?” the Captain asked in his childish tone.
“Probably not above ground.”
“All the more reason to get into the complex. Let’s pack up and get moving.”
Amazed the group survived this long
with such a man at the helm, Brady replied, “Aye, sir.”
Brady began the shutdown process on the main server he’d been working on.
One of the men looked at Brady totally confused by his actions. “Why are you waiting to shut it down? Afraid you might damage the operating system? Yank the cord, man! It costs fuel to keep these generators running.” Brady regretfully reached behind the machine and removed the power cable from the power supply. Something inside him revolted at the thought of not letting it shut down correctly. He had been in IT for so many years it just seemed wrong.
Helping take out the second load of equipment, Brady stumbled into a familiar sight. Waiting for the next bunch of items to load into the vehicles, Val and Snipes occupied themselves by a ridiculous display of affection. As if out of some movie, Snipes leaned back against the Humvee while Val wrapped her legs around his waist.
Brady couldn’t help notice the outline of her fit body. Young and gorgeous. Flowing black hair and an easy smile. Witty probably more than anything. She always had some wisecrack or smart remark. The one or two times they’d made eye contact, Brady couldn’t help noticing her remarkable eyes. They bore some quality both foreign and mysteriously elegant. He thought she could be a complete knock-out if she weren’t so annoying.
Brady dropped the items loudly against the pavement. “Here you go,” he said annoyingly loud when their mouths remained locked.
Val retracted her tongue from Snipes' mouth long enough to answer Brady. Without detaching herself from Snipes, she turned her head to say, “Leave it there, precious.” Before Brady looked away she gave him a little wink and exposed the tip of her tongue in an odd gesture. The display of which made her look not unlike a seductive snake.
In disgust Brady turned to get the next load. The two had been a couple long before Brady came along. Though he’d never seen them progress past these ridiculous displays of kissing and fondling, it still drove Brady crazy. The only thing worse than the absurdity of their affection was the frequency. They seemed to gravitate towards each other on an hourly basis. If they sat in the same vehicle, they would be lost in their own magical world and unfortunately forget everyone else. If they were in different vehicles she would make little faces at him or vice versa. To watch such a thing sickened Brady almost as much as junior high.
• ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙
The Humvees jerked to life and sped past the guard station back out onto the main street. Brady turned his mind to the Captain. He was a strange man for many more reasons than his sense of humor. As they rolled down Platte Ave, Brady decided to venture a question to Snipes, who sat beside him.
“Tell me about the Captain. He seems like such an… odd person,” Brady asked in the most polite way he could figure.
“What do you want to know?”
“How do you guys follow the leadership of such a… careless person?”
“Shut up! You’re new here so I’ll let it slide. But don’t get me wrong. The Captain is a great man and I don’t want to hear you saying otherwise. He may seem an idiot to you, and I understand why you might think that, but you haven’t been with him long enough to see his true colors. I understand your dislike of McCoy. That man’s an asshole through and through.” He kicked the legs of the gunner to get his attention. McCoy leaned down from his gun nest to partake in the conversation. “Isn’t that true McCoy?”
Unsure of what they’d been speaking about, he answered, “One hundred percent!”
Snipes gestured with his hand as if to say, “See what I mean?”
“In a battle in Ohio we lost five men,” Snipes continued. “Good men. Some of the best this company has ever seen. That’s when the Captain got funny. They were the first ones to die on his watch. He took it personally. Forgetting stuff. Acting like a lunatic. That’s how he deals with the fallout of the world. You’re judging him on the two percent you know. But underneath lies a very different form of the man. Not once has he shied away from making a tough decision. Not once has he changed his mind in the middle of combat. Don’t you talk to me about him again.”
Brady sank back into his seat with the man’s poignant words steeping in his heart. Soon he resigned himself to peering out the window at his ruined hometown. Not long into the drive, they passed a street Brady knew. A street that once would have taken him to a friend’s house. As they passed, Brady looked up the road as far as he could. It looked now like the main dusty lane of a western movie. Bits of sand blew across the lanes piling up before the tires of abandoned cars. For a moment, Brady could almost smell the barbeque in his friend's backyard. But an overpass quickly jolted Brady back into reality.
• ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙
As they approached the downtown area, the Captain spotted a liquor store. The captain grabbed the radio and yelled, “Liquor!”
The convoy came to an abrupt stop in front of the small storefront. McCoy fired off a few rounds pulverizing a few of the locals.
The Captain continued on the radio, “Two come with me inside. Everyone one else watch the alley and street. Shouldn’t take too long.” Everyone knew it wouldn’t be a quick stop. The Captain loved his Captain Morgan Rum but always seemed to take his time to browse the aisles. Everything seemed so inviting when the cost was free.
Fifteen minutes into their stop, Brady and a few of the others got out of the vehicles to walk around. More of the locals arrived, but the soldiers made quick work of them. Snipes had gone inside with the Captain and so Val stood in the alley with the others. She noticed when Brady went wandering to the back of the building but gave it little thought.
When the alley conversation turned boring, Val wandered to the end of the alley and overheard a whispered voice. It intrigued her enough to sneak up to the edge of the building and listen. She could barely make out any words but distinctly heard the word “love.” This piqued her interest even more to the point that she ventured a peek around the building.
The spectacle astounded and confused her.
She found Brady speaking softly to a zombie he’d crippled with a melee weapon. It gnashed its teeth towards him and gave no indication that it understood or cared for Brady’s pleadings. Val found herself so enthralled by the events she could not interfere. Brady’s soft tone lulled her. The miserable creature, too wounded to pose any true threat to Brady, sat glaring as Brady moved in behind it. Holding it for a second and whispering in its ear Brady gently moved his hands to the creature’s head and in a merciful manner snapped its neck.
With the creature lying dead before him, Brady turned to leave and saw Val staring at him intrigued. He fashioned a sad expression and quickly moved down the other alley back to the convoy. The whole experience left a deep impression on her, but she couldn’t help feeling a strange sense of respect for his unusual actions.
“Hey,” Val said running after Brady. “What were you doing to that zombie?”
Brady replied in a sentimental tone. “Giving it as merciful of a death as I could manage.”
“Why? We’ve shot hundreds of these dead in the head.” Brady did not respond but only started walking away. She grabbed him by the arm, “Hey, don’t you walk away from me. Answer the question!”
Brady looked off towards the west for a moment. “Val,” He started somewhat slowly, “do you think zombies retain some echo of remembrance to their former selves? Or are they truly mindless?”
At first she shied away from the question, but something beckoned her. Just the fact that he asked such a question seemed to send her into an earlier time. A civil time. She could have been a little girl riding along on a perfectly normal shopping trip.
“I want to believe,” Val replied. “I want to think they remember and can be saved.”
“As do I.” He said breaking her gaze and taking a step towards the convoy. He paused for a moment and then said, “But in either case, you can’t hate them. Even if they don’t remember what it was like to be human, they’re not monsters of choice. They are not in and of themselves
flesh eating villains bent on the world’s destruction. They were deceived. They were told they could live in a world without cancer. They weren’t trying to hurt anyone. And now they are ravaged souls manipulated and forced into the service of survival.
“If they do remember their old selves, it makes it all the sadder. For they knew Heaven once. And now they know what miserably fallen beings they have become.
“In either case, how can you look on such a one in hatred? No. I pity them and will save the ones I can.”
“'Miserably fallen beings they have become,'" Val echoed his words in a mocking tone and then laughed. "You are messed up!” she managed to say between laughs. “How did you get so messed up?”
“If you live long enough, I might just show you.” Brady smiled a sly little smile that showed he was not affected in the least by her mockery. He returned silently to the convoy. She made a dirty face and followed.
• ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙
In silence they continued down the road into the outskirts of the downtown area. Although they considered the experience ironic at first, downtowns were usually deserted places. For some reason the zombies rarely, if ever, collected there. Because of this, the group had no problems taking the downtown route to mountain complex even though it was not the most direct way.
As downtown came into view, the wind kicked up and the great feet of the Rocky Mountains became visible for a moment. It did Brady good to see the timeless monuments still the way they’d been before the breaking of the world. A smile even crossed his face as the winds allowed him a sighting of Pikes Peak.
Sorrow: A Novel Written by Brian Wortley Page 2