“Not very close. There’s a subdivision north of here called Gleneagle. It’s a ways from downtown.”
“What brought you to Kansas City?”
“Same as everybody else: wandering. Looking for other humans, settlements, guns, or anything. I couldn’t stay here all alone. It was going to drive me crazy. I crossed Kansas with random vehicles scattered along the way. There were enough around I didn’t need to worry about gas. I’d just find a new one. Just kind of drifted until I ran into you guys. It’s strange to be back here so soon.”
“Is the infection bad here?”
“About average from what I’ve seen. They’ve gathered around the outskirts in pockets. I always wanted to check out mountain, but never had the guts to go in alone.”
“I just hope no one else got there first. This underground fort sounds a little too good to be true.”
“We should know pretty soon. If the main outer doors are still open, we’re probably the first.”
The conversation ended when the Humvee turned the corner to start south. The change in direction drew everyone’s attention to the lifeless buildings looming against the sky outside. Up ahead, at one of the intersections downtown, they saw it.
The driver of the first Humvee began slowing much to the Captain's surprise.
“What are you doing?” the Captain barked. But the confusion on the man's face said more than his words.
The Captain turned to where the driver’s gaze indicated. There, half a block down Colorado Avenue, something moved.
“Is he alive?" the Captain asked.
"Open your window," the driver replied. "He's trying to say something. Can you hear it?"
The Captain opened his window a crack but could not make out any words above the sound of the engine. The Captain grabbed the radio and asked, "Anybody make out what he's saying?"
"Negative," came the reply. "Is that guy hanging from a pole? I think it's run through his body."
A shriek from the man in question brought the Captain's attention back to the miserable thing. "Snipes," the Captain said over the radio. "Want to put him out of his misery?"
"Sure thing, Boss." Snipes radioed back. "I can hit him from here easy."
"I want to know what he's saying though," the Captain thought out loud.
Snipes made no reply.
"Get close enough to talk to him," the Captain said. "Then take the shot."
Snipes scanned the windows and doorways one more time. "Can we just back my Humvee up to him? I don't want to go on foot."
"Good idea," the Captain agreed.
Snipes' Humvee backed down Colorado Ave close to where the man suffered.
"I just want to know if he's saying anything important about the area," the Captain replied. "If he has nothing to say just shoot him and let's go."
When the Humvee was close enough, Snipes traded spots with the gunner. But even after leaning over the side of the Humvee as far as he could, Snipes still couldn't hear a word that the man uttered. Reluctantly, Snipes climbed out of the gunner position and slid down the back of the vehicle and onto the road. Snipes made sure the gunner retook his post before he took another step from the safety of the vehicle.
Three steps closer to the miserable remains of the man, Snipes began to hear his words.
“Villainous! Viperous! The place. Me on a pole but you I pity. Such a damnable place – the world. Twilight glistens say they. Straining eyes drink it but cannot imbibe its beauty. Love passed me as would a stranger. But I clung to him. And from his curling robes this desert man did taste his cool relief. If only in my mind."
Snipes assumed the man suffered from shock and turned to leave.
"For, you see, I come from a place of ills not unlike this one," the man continued in a more direct tone attempting to keep Snipes' attention. "Though of a different sort. In your place cutting claws may end you or poorly driven vehicles make flat of you and teeth disjoint your life-guts from your bones or rancid pits overtake you and chemicals, without your knowledge, infect your skin till it fall off or toppling building consider you a cushiony new bed or sniper mistake your droopy face for a rotten one and splatter its contents like a artist may fling the paint before you even have a chance to look heavenward and offer penance for your numerous sins. Or, like Bonnie, you look up to the eyes of your dearest friend who now betrays you with bloody shiv exiting your throat that she might take the last morsel of food. This place I come from is like all this but for the heart.
"For I loved her and I watched her beautiful form. She cared not for me but that made no difference. I knew love and passion with her in my mind’s eye. Even after they led her away – to the bridge I should suspect – I can love her still. That wretched bridge! Those poor cursed stones that hung those arches and the evils they were forced to see. What they fed there with the bodies, I still don’t know. Yet all these trials shall happen outside a man - but the warden! Men, you see, have that inherent right to keep back their souls from their assailants. This far, villain, and no further! Yet some may try - by the capturing and killing of loved ones – to press hurts into another’s soul they truly cannot do it in truest form. But the warden, this satan of a man, did find a way to bypass the rights of a man and violate the soul. Oh you, wretched one, that you should live in such as world as with this one. Rank he is. Not unlike a plague. His nostrils breathe not in but out the most abominable, diseased fallacies I will ever hear. I die here and am happy. That you live still in his world, I pity you."
Snipes had heard enough. He pulled out his side arm and took a few steps to not be splattered with blood.
The miserable man observed Snipes and yelled, "Come death, you dark mother, I suckle at thy breast!"
Snipes couldn't help but laugh at this. "What did you just say?" Snipes laughed as he shot a bullet through the miserable man's skull. The force of the bullet threw the man's head back against the pole before it came to rest permanently on his chest.
Three events happened all at once. Snipes heard the roar of the .50 caliber machine gun behind him while he wondered at how his side arm glided so perfectly through the air. Not until the last event of skidding across the ground like a bowling pin did Snipes realize he had been hit by something and flung through the air himself. Snipes tried to inhale but found it painful. Placing his hand on his chest informed Snipes he had been awarded a broken rib from the impact.
While catching his breath, Snipes looked over and saw his attacker still by the Humvees. A lean, agile zombie unlike anything Snipes had ever seen. It managed to bolt from a nearby building and knock Snipes over before the gunner had a chance to react.
Snipes put his hands on the ground to steady himself onto his feet. Like a frightened child filled with nightmares, Snipes ran as fast as his shaking knees would carry him.
To Snipes’ horror zombies poured out of the parking garage cutting off his retreat. All three gunners concentrated their fire on the parking lot horde, unaware that another group assaulted from the building behind them. Snipes tried to radio in the attack behind them but the sound of the guns stole his efforts. Snipes then resorted to hand signals and managed to get his meaning across to one of the gunners who quickly whirled about to engage the new enemies. And soon his efforts were joined by another gunner.
It seemed that every nearby window now became a door. The dead poured from the ground level openings like a tide bursting from a gigantic fish tank. The great guns gained little success again the rear attack. For any one they killed, two took its place. In a matter of moments, the Humvee closest to Snipes became surrounded. Snipes fought his way shooting down zombies desperately trying to make a path between himself and the vehicle. The convoy, with guns aimed out of every cracked window, did their best to repel the crowd.
Hands, wiggling their way into any opening, clutched onto anything within grasp. The frenzied hands managed to grab the back right passenger of the second Humvee by the collar, and forced him to the glass. There worm-like fingers awaited
him and dug into his face until he resisted no more. With the reward of blood and eyeball, the relentless fingers retreated back to their owner's mouths to be licked clean. Once they picked clean the skull and eye sockets to the best they could, they let the lifeless body fall down onto the console.
When the horde began climbing the second vehicle, the driver jerked the Humvee forward crushing the villains in its wheels or knocking them back with the cattle guard. The sound of bones cracking could have been heard if the guns hadn’t deafened everyone's ears. With little choice, the Captain gave the order to evacuate with or without Snipes. Val overheard the command and cried out again. Had she been in the same vehicle, she may have shot the Captain. She strained to see through the mass of moving corpses but couldn’t make out her lover.
"Anyone see Snipes?" the driver of the last Humvee asked desperately before complying with the Captain's orders to evacuate. No one replied, so the driver reluctantly stomped on the gas.
Snipes managed to see through dozens of rotten legs and saw the wheels on his Humvee turning. Soon the vehicle would turn the corner and go behind the parking garage. Snipes managed to find time to fire his one grenade into the parking garage. It's explosion sent multiple zombies and their parts flying through the air. Fueled by desperation, he used the remainder of his clip to mow down some of the zombies between him and the parking garage. Without the time to reload, he threw his weapon and ran as fast as possible.
Zombies now saturated the intersection. Miraculously, Snipes cut through where his grenade just detonated in the parking garage and cut through the structure hoping to intersect the last Humvee as it escaped south. Out of a shattered second story window Snipes saw a flying menace sail through the air and land on McCoy’s upper body. Caught completely off guard, McCoy took the full blow of the flyer as it landed. A cry escaped his lips as his back bent over the roof of the vehicle. Just before the zombies on the road could grab him and pull him into their gaping mouths, Brady and Val yanked his motionless body back inside. They flopped him on the empty seat without examination. Without hesitation, Val jumped up into the gunner’s position and fired the gun frantically splitting apart the zombies still standing between them and the southern road. When she could spare a moment, she glanced over to look for Snipes but couldn’t find him.
With zombies crawling up the sides and front, the two last Humvees finally started bumping their way over the littered bodies and out of the crowd. As the second Humvee broke from the crowd, three foes attached themselves and began a frantic climb up the side. With the main gun of no use at such close range, the gunner was forced to unsheathe his side arm and fight them directly. He ended the ascent of the first two, but the third clutched onto him biting his neck deeply. Meanwhile the driver floored the gas pedal and swerved around the first Humvee to get further away from the onslaught. The sudden change in direction threw the zombie and the gunner completely out of the nest and onto the street.
Snipes ran in and out of zombies being rewarded with multiple bites and scrapes for his efforts. Dashing from the parking garage, he finally came into the street and approached the third Humvee. Val’s face lit up and she screamed for them to slow down to allow him to catch up. With a heroic leap, Snipes grabbed onto the spare tire on the tail end of the last Humvee just as it pulled away. Zombies were all around clutching and grabbing at him. Val reached down desperately trying to grab his hand. Straining, he stretched his arm out towards hers and for the briefest moment their hands touched. But a sudden bump forced his grip to return to the spare tire.
“Don’t let them...” his sentence cut off as the Humvee hit a bump and the tire smacked him in the face. Falling a little further back, one of his hands lost grip of the tire and searched for something new. As the Humvee passed them by, two foes managed to grab onto his flailing legs. They successfully clasped on and started to be dragged along behind Snipes. A hideous cry came from Snipes' lips as the two bit into his legs for a better grip. With the new weight of the two enemies, Snipes could not maintain his grip and fell down until his knees scraped against the ground. Frantically Val’s hand found her pistol and she attempted to shoot the two foes. Although she was sure she hit one of them several times, the menace would not let up his grip. Clicking the trigger three times after the last bullet left the chamber, she threw the gun towards the foes and started climbing out of the gunner’s nest. Knowing Snipes would be far out of reach, Brady grabbed Val by the legs to keep her from leaving. His efforts were rewarded by violent kicking.
As far as she could, Val started climbing down the rear of the vehicle as Snipes looked up at her from below. The look of his eyes went straight to her heart. He slipped from the Humvee, skidding along the pavement. Val looked on in horror as they drove away from her fallen love. “Harrison!” Val screamed. This surprised everyone because none of them had heard his real name.
Those that could looked on in dread as Snipes desperately crawled forward with the two still on him. A third violently tore into Snipes' shoulder until his arm completely detached. And yet with only one arm, the shaking, bleeding mass of their friend still struggled forward. In rage Val regained her footing, kicked Brady squarely in the face, and whirled the main gun about firing madly at Snipes. But her merciful bullets were blocked by an assembling dog pile of the dead.
She kept firing long after they were out of range but none had the heart to stop her.
Removing her hat only to toss it to the road, she let her long black hair (grown out at Snipes' request) whip in the wind. There she stood resolute in her grief like a Viking woman of old awaiting upon the cliffs the ill news of her seafaring lover. Her hand, slowed by the chill of sadness, reached into her shirt and pulled from her bra an unfinished love letter. She held it for a brief moment before opening her hand letting the wind take it to its new home on the road behind.
Part 2
The Mountain
Once the skyscrapers shrank behind them and no clumps of zombies could be seen, the Captain radioed in. “Report casualties. We’ve got one dead.”
“Rick. Gunner. Dead here,” the second Humvee reported in.
“Snipes is dead,” the third radioed.
“Three,” the Captain said solemnly aloud to himself.
In silence, the convoy made its way south. They were glad to be away from the claustrophobic downtown and more out in the open.
McCoy woke to find the battle ended. “Did we make it or are you guys all about to eat me or something? No anal probes!”
When his joke arose no laughter, Brady broke in. “Three are dead.” Brady took pleasure in beheading his joke with the axe of brutal truth.
“Snipes?” McCoy asked. Brady nodded. “Where’s Val?”
“She hasn’t come down yet.”
McCoy reached over to touch Val’s leg, but Brady stopped him unsure of what careless comment he would inflict on her. After some time, Val descended and to Brady’s surprise McCoy merely expressed his condolences.
She reached out and touched his shoulder in reply. Eager to change the subject of her loss, she asked, “Are you alright?”
“Ya. Not even sure what hit me. My back's almost broken but at least I can still move.”
“I’ve never seen flying zombies. Or ones with power,” she replied.
“Not to mention the intelligence to ambush,” Alex chimed in.
“I’ve been telling you guys all along the zombies are smart,” McCoy started. “This proves it.” McCoy’s new caring attitude made it easier on everyone to admit he had been right. McCoy leaned forward to grab the radio and inform the Captain of his superior intelligence, but his back seized for the movement forcing him back into a sitting position. A groan escaped his lips. “Can you hand me the radio,” he asked Alex.
“So you can tell the Captain how smart you are?”
He thought for a moment but couldn’t conjure a better response than a childish “No.” Alex looked back at him with obvious doubt.
McCoy’s clever wit
was not given a chance to respond as the Captain’s voice came over the radio, “We need to get Brady on those satellites tonight and watch the city. There’s something strange going on here. If we can find out how they’re getting power, we may have some options.”
“Is it possible that someone is helping them?” Alex asked.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore. A few hours ago, I’d never seen anything that made me think they had intelligence.”
“Maybe someone is controlling or teaching them.”
“Anything right now is a speculation. Maybe it has something to do with the zombies around here. Maybe these are more advanced than the ones out east. If this mountain facility isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, we’re getting out of here.”
∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙
Everyone resigned themselves to quietly watching the road and passing buildings. With the sun drooping deeply into the western sky, they found themselves entering the shadow of the mountain. Brady strained out the window to gaze up at the antenna farm on the summit before it went out of view. The idea of a military installation inside a mountain fascinated him ever since he had first heard of it. The boyish part of his heart still loved the weapons of war and even the idea of secret underground compounds.
As they drove up the windy road taking them to the entrance to the facility, everyone finally understood Brady’s description of the place. Such an installation would be perfect in a post-apocalyptic world. A well supplied team could hide away there easily. Perhaps indefinitely. Behind those doors a few could repel an army.
They parked the vehicles inside the tunnel-like entrance. With the vehicles off, all became acutely aware of the silent cold and dark. But the silence would not live for Val’s anger boiled over. She burst from the vehicle searching for the Captain.
“You had to send him? You couldn’t send one of these worthless goons?” The Captain made no reply but held her fuming gaze. “Smells like an ambush. Let’s send Snipes. He hasn’t done enough for this company! He’s not the best shot here!” She struck him in the face. The Captain refused to fight back but only turned back to meet her gaze. “Damn you! We all knew it was an ambush. Why didn’t you just let it be?”
Sorrow Page 3