Transformation: Zombie Crusade VI
Page 12
Andi laughed bitterly. “Tell me about it; I once knew a young woman, Karyn, who . . .”
“Yes, yes,” Barnes quickly interrupted. “I know all about Karyn. But I think you would be much better off focusing on the future than the past; don’t you agree? Now put on your headset and get ready to enjoy our little sightseeing adventure.”
Andi decided not to push it with the general; she sensed he was already struggling to keep his anger under control. His phony smile was betrayed by the little vein pulsating in his temple, and he kept impatiently drumming his fingers on the edge of his seat. She put on the headset and looked out the window as the Blackhawk took off and began climbing to cruising altitude. In less than a minute, they were high enough to see for miles in every direction. They flew south over the central valley and passed above several herds of cattle that numbered in the thousands. Andi knew why Barnes rounded up cattle, but her stomach still clenched involuntarily when she saw the interstate overflowing with a massive pack of infected. The creatures were following a circling helicopter, and suddenly Andi knew what they were doing in California: Barnes was gathering another army.
He made eye contact as she gazed in his direction, then he smiled and nodded as he saw her figure out what was going on below. “I won’t repeat the mistakes I made out east,” he assured her through their headsets.
Andi felt her hate rise to a new level, but she didn’t say a word. She tried to estimate the number of infected spreading out over the landscape below, but the task was overwhelming as the Blackhawk sped through the sky. After about half an hour, Barnes ordered the pilot to return to base.
After they landed, Barnes removed his headset and Andi noticed that his angry little vein was no longer twitching. As he stared out the window with an expression of pure contentment, Andi couldn’t remain silent any longer. “Do you really think you can usher in some sort of new Dark Age with you as the undisputed king of the world?” she asked incredulously. “What’s your long-term plan? Will you be satisfied with a kingdom of starving and sickly settlements spread over three thousand miles of ruin? And who’ll be your successor? Nobody lives forever.”
Barnes smiled. “The new Dark Age is already upon us, Ms. Carrell. As to what might happen when my time on earth is at an end, well, I’ll die content, knowing that I fundamentally changed the world forever. My legacy will be unavoidable. How many people could say that?”
“How many people have wanted to?” she countered.
“Quite a few that I’m aware of, but you’re the history teacher.” He lowered his voice as if he were sharing a confidence. “Ms. Carrell, Andi, I know you would never admit it, but there have undoubtedly been many times since you, uh, joined us, in which you have felt absolutely helpless. That feeling is the opposite of how I feel every day. Nobody can order me about. Nobody can question the wisdom of my judgment, nobody.”
Andi finally smiled back. “Hmm, you must suffer from selective memory. We both know there is somebody who flips you the bird and stops you by destroying your armies and crushing your dreams of complete conquest. And he’s still out there.” She leaned forward as she held his gaze. “In fact, his defiance has sparked a rebellion across the country. Maybe that is why you’re so obsessed with him. Your power isn’t absolute.”
Barnes shrugged. “You greatly overestimate the power of your former fiancé. Still, I must admit that I do have a certain appreciation for Jack and his little band of short-sighted traitors; my Army was in need of a few ‘real-world’ training exercises. Besides, that which we attain too easily we esteem too cheaply.”
“Seriously,” Andi settled back in her seat and shook her head. “You’re quoting Thomas Paine? He was fighting against tyranny while you’re trying to become the most infamous tyrant in history.”
Barnes was obviously enjoying himself, and his voice dripped with self-satisfaction. “Yes, I can quote Paine if I so desire; the most powerful man on earth can do as he pleases.”
Andi feigned thoughtfulness for a few seconds. “Hmm, but I thought you desired to capture Indiana, or was it Vicksburg . . .”
“My dear, you really need to stay up-to-date; Indiana is already mine, and Vicksburg will be whenever I decide it’s time to make an example of those hillbillies.” Barnes confidently declared, “Would you like a front row seat for the event?”
“Nope,” Andi retorted. “I’ll take the Karyn option before I ever watch that happen.”
“Well,” Barnes agreed, “that is always a possibility, isn’t it?”
Luke heard the sound of a pebble skittering across the surface of the street almost a block away. He knew that only a hunter could pick up a noise so slight; the creatures wouldn’t expect prey to hear it, nor would a human expect another person to detect the sound. He silently glided beneath a tattered awning hanging above the entrance to a looted store, and stood completely still as he waited for the person whose foot had kicked the rock to appear; his senses told him that no hunter was so close.
He didn’t have long to wait. More sounds of humans trying to move stealthily continued to reach his ears as the minutes quickly passed, until one of his stalkers finally came into view across the cluttered street. The teen was younger than Luke, a tall Black kid armed only with a homemade spear and a crowbar. Two of his comrades were approaching from about fifty meters behind; they weren’t in sight, but Luke’s hearing easily discerned their movements. Luke didn’t want to surprise any of the three, uncertain as to their intentions and not wanting to startle them into making more noise than they were already making.
The next two came into sight as the first to pass completely missed Luke standing like a statue in the early morning shadows beneath the awning. They were all young: middle school or high school aged kids. The third boy was on Luke’s side of the street, and he walked to within ten feet of the place where the young officer was hiding. A quick glance told Luke that the stranger was armed with a fireplace poker and a baseball bat, and he was sure that he could reach the youngster long before the kid could possibly pull any guns he might have hidden in his clothing. Luke decided to make contact.
“Hey!” Luke whispered loudly when the boy stopped near the awning to take a careful look ahead.
The young teen spun on his heels and pointed the business-end of the poker in Luke’s direction with a speed that impressed the veteran soldier, but not fast enough to indicate a fighting ability that would challenge Luke in any way. Luke raised his hands to show that he was unarmed.
“I’m the guy who was up on the highway,” he explained. “Somebody down here pulled my bacon out of the fire a few minutes ago, and I came down to see who it was. I’d like to say thanks.”
The youngster kept his weapon pointed at Luke, but turned his head toward the street and gave a quick, bird-like whistle that his comrades quickly returned. The other two teens were there in a few seconds.
“Who are you and what are you looking for?” the tall kid with the spear demanded. It was clear to Luke that this boy was the leader of the small group.
Luke kept his hands up and tried to look as friendly as possible. “I’m Captain Luke Smith, from the Allied Resistance Army.”
The boy looked confused. “You look pretty young to be a captain.”
“I am young,” Luke admitted. “But I’m good, and most of the other officers died in the early days of the outbreak.”
“You from the depot?”
Luke shook his head as he kept his hands in the air. “I’m leading a relief force up the Red River, checking out the settlements near the water; survivors have gathered along all the major waterways in America.”
The kid nodded. “Yeah, the eaters don’t like water much. You can lower your hands, but keep your weapons on your belt unless we’re attacked. I’m Jerome; welcome to Texarkana.”
“Thank you,” Luke hid a smile inspired by the young man’s spunk in such dangerous times. “So, did one of you shoot that big alpha I was faced off with up there on I-30?”
Luke nodded knowingly. “Killed any eaters with those weapons, yet?”
The boy who’d remained silent so far spoke up. He looked like a smaller version of Jerome. “D.J. couldn’t kill a slug with a shotgun on his best day, but I got one a few months ago. Steel blade in the brain kills ‘em as good as a bullet; don’t make much noise either. But Jerome’s the stone-cold killer here.”
The young leader cast his gaze downward, obviously uncomfortable discussing the results of his fights over the past months. He sounded tired and distant when he grumbled, “My brother likes to exaggerate.” He finally looked up and glanced toward Luke, who nodded his understanding before continuing the conversation.
“We mostly gave up on bullets in the Army after all the early battles were lost: no more ammo to be found.” The boys were hanging on his every word. “We have a couple of .22 pistols with suppressors on them in our unit, but other than that we just use spears and other edged weapons. A few guys use hammers and axes and such.”
“Have you lost a lot of people fighting that way?” Jerome asked.
Luke shook his head proudly. “We haven’t lost a single soldier since leaving Vicksburg, Mississippi.”
“Damn,” the kid with the glasses, D.J., exclaimed. “You guys have come that far? My aunt lives over there; that’s a long ways away.”
“We have come that far,” Luke declared, “and we’re going a lot farther. Were you guys the ones who flashed mirrors at the column of soldiers I led down the highway yesterday?”
“That was me,” Jerome’s brother admitted. “Billy yelled at me to stop; he said you guys looked pretty scary with all your leather and helmets and stuff. We didn’t know you were Army.”
Luke looked directly at Jerome, “Is Billy in charge here?”
“He was our teacher,” Jerome explained. “He helps take care of us—we take care of each other, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Luke felt better knowing that there was an adult watching over these boys. “Why did Billy help me this morning?”
D.J. shrugged. “He said you looked like an honest man.”
“Plus,” Jerome added, “we’re all tired of seeing people get eaten by the monsters.”
“Yeah, me too,” Luke agreed. “Did you guys say Billy is back at the school?”
“Yep,” D.J. answered, “we’ve been holed up there since the second day of the outbreak in Texarkana.”
“Is there anything we can do to help you?” Luke asked.
Jerome cocked his head and studied Luke for a few seconds. “Maybe you better come check out our situation before you make the offer.”
Luke nodded. “You lead, I’ll follow.”
CHAPTER 10
The hunter left his nest with the dawn, the mental haze from the day before lifting as the darkness faded. He stood sniffing the air and listening to the sounds of the nearby countryside before he turned his gaze to the west. He couldn’t smell or hear the Strong One, or any of the pack he’d travelled with, but the hunter was certain they had passed this way. He began trotting along the river, determined to find the spot where his pack had been wiped out. As he jogged along, he realized that there was something more than hunger guiding him, and it wasn’t the painful screech of the noise that filled his mind when the machine birds were near.
No, he was now being led by a desire to be near another being, one who he knew, instinctively, was his leader. He craved order and direction to restore his equilibrium. For most of his short life, the only things of significance had been pain and hunger, and the occasional alleviation of both. But now he felt that something else was missing, had always been missing. Memories once again flitted about the edges of his awareness. He suddenly recalled a time of great fear; there had been a moment when he was being chased by something so frightening that his mind would not allow him to fully remember . . . he had run until he was trapped; high walls surrounded him with no way out. The thing that had been chasing him quickly fell upon him and nearly ripped his arm from its socket. Indescribable agony had lanced through his body as teeth ripped away a huge piece of flesh above his elbow.
He remembered bleeding and screaming as flashing lights reflected from the walls that had trapped him. Vaguely, he recalled the head of a nearby creature dissolve into a pink mist as two others—those he had always called Food—appeared above him with danger in their hands. One had called out to him, but the other just shook his head before they both retreated into the haze of the blinking lights. There had been a high-pitched wail as they disappeared from view; then the lights were gone, and he’d burned. He’d crawled under a machine and burned. He’d whimpered into the uncaring night as a city died around him, and finally the burning had stopped . . .
The hunter ran harder, trying to shake the images and words from his brain. Words had begun to dominate his thoughts. He rubbed the dark-pink scar that lay under the fur covering his arm, and realized that he was experiencing memory. He had once suffered a terrible injury to his arm, and now he could recall how it had happened. He could not run far enough or fast enough to escape the memories that were seeping through the cracks in his consciousness. He slowed down and tried to focus on the environment around him, but the cold, stark landscape beneath a dreary gray sky inspired nothing but an overwhelming sense of loneliness.
His steady jog along the river continued as the miles and hours passed. The hunter didn’t understand the memories, but he recognized the sense of loss he felt as the images passed through his mind. Once again, he pictured the strange face of the leader he’d met when his last pack was destroyed. The creature was fierce beyond reckoning, but something greater than the ferociousness of a mighty pack-leader was in his eyes. He wanted to see those eyes again. More than killing, more than food, he wanted to find the Strong One . . .
The young teenagers Luke met on the streets of Texarkana led him to the basement of an old school building. The “situation” Luke discovered there shook him to his core. For some reason, he’d never given a thought to what might have happened to the type of kids Jerome and his friends had guided him to: nine teens with obvious disabilities were gathered around a modified old boiler that was being used as a wood-stove, several wheelchairs crowded together as they did their best to keep warm in the damp room. From their gaunt faces, Luke could see that the boys were hungry, but they were reasonably clean and apparently otherwise healthy. He didn’t see any sign of Billy.
A few of the kids realized there was a stranger in the room, and one boy in particular stared at Luke with fearless curiosity. Luke walked over and took a knee at the side of his chair before introducing himself. “Hey, I’m Luke. How did you end up here?”
The boy shook a bit as he hesitated, seeming to gather his thoughts. He spoke slowly, but clearly. “I’m Julian. I’m here because my mom didn’t come back for me; she’s probably dead.”
Luke didn’t know how to respond to that, so he simply chose to avoid the subject. “What have you been doing to occupy your time here since then?”
“Jerome reads to me a lot; he managed to grab a bunch of books before we headed down here.”
“What type of books do you like?”
Julian grinned mischievously, “I used to mostly read zombie and apocalyptic fiction.”
Luke couldn’t help but return the smile at the sight of the twinkle in the boy’s eyes. He flashed back to being homeschooled by his mother when he was not much younger than Julian. He smiled and asked the question his mother would have asked, “So, is that coincidence or irony?”
Julian considered the question, “Both, I think.”
Luke was impressed. “Why both?”
“Well, I always thought a zombie apocalypse would be cool, so I guess you could say I kind of hoped for it. In that way, what ha
ppened is definitely ironic, because it turned out to really suck.” The boy paused for a shaky breath before continuing. “But seeing as how the eaters really aren’t zombies, what’s happened is more of a coincidence relative to what kind of books I liked to read.”
Luke cocked his head. “Liked?”
Julian eyes flickered into a vacant stare. “Now I just want to read books with happy endings about families still together, especially holiday stories.”
There was a small lump in Luke’s throat as he patted Julian’s shoulder in what he knew was probably a futile effort at comforting him. “My soldiers are going to clean this town up, the depot too. If there’s any chance your mom is holed up safe somewhere, we’ll probably find her eventually. If we don’t find her, we’re still going to get you out of here and housed with a group of people you like and feel comfortable with.”
Julian tried to shake his head decisively, but just ended up bobbing in his chair. He was clearly agitated. Finally, he managed to stutter, “I . . . I don’t want to leave these guys.”
Luke quickly reassured him, “We won’t separate you from your friends.”
That seemed to calm him down. “Thank you.”
Luke stood up. “No need to thank me, but you’re welcome. By the way, why are you in the chair?”
Julian looked surprised at the question. “I have cerebral palsy; it mostly affects my legs, but I have seizures sometimes.”
Luke looked around the room. “What about these other kids?”
Jerome and the other boys who’d escorted Luke here had been listening to his conversation with Julian. Jerome answered Luke’s question, “Reed and Dylan can talk some; the others not so much. Some of ‘em used to make a lot of noise, but they’ve learned to be quiet.”