Sorrow

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Sorrow Page 19

by Brian Wortley


  ∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  That evening Brady gathered everyone around to formally hail Connor as the new leader. Word for word he gave the speech Connor prepared for him. In confusion the masses received them. Although they had no problems with Connor leading them, they found this change in leadership an awkward development.

  In the following week, Connor cooled off and let Brady move about freely within the city but kept a watchful eye on him. As Brady said, the first level zombies in Colorado Springs became rare. Val and the other pilots continued their operations saving any they could find.

  At Connor’s request, the new recruits were taught how to farm, as best as anyone knew how, and defense construction. Sara, who had extensively practiced fencing in her early years, spent a couple days driving around searching for blades. When she found two to her liking, she sewed together leather sheaths and straps so she could wear them on her back. Several of the recruits showed an interest in learning how to swordfight and since she liked teaching, she spent several of the days that week giving lessons.

  Brady was thrilled to have Val live with them. Even while being under watch, Brady remained active and spent little time at home. This gave the two women ample time together. They took up all types of arts common before the fall. The two of them baked together sometimes making elaborate meals. The variety all depended on what they could find. They took daily shopping trips together looking for food. They even began their own garden in the backyard.

  Sara started trying her hand at painting (something she had always wanted to do). Brady’s painting in their mountain house inspired her. She made several small efforts before pressing matters occupied her time.

  Sara noticed it in their little time together. Something changed within Brady. He no longer seemed his determined purposeful self. In the evenings and night he often seemed distracted and spoke sentences that barely made grammatical sense. A darkness came over him in the following nights similar to the one he shed when he overcame the clutches of the old Zombie King. All hours of many nights, he could be found standing haunting the vacant halls weeping or gashing the walls. Sometimes he would stare with the wildest expression at Sara almost as if he were going to kill her.

  The two women became very concerned for him but dared not speak of it to Connor. Instead Sara started sleeping in Val’s room and carrying a gun with her at all times. Thankfully, Brady spent most of his days on his computer. One day, when he seemed particularly frustrated with his project, he went to Connor begging him to allow him to create a programming group.

  “I’m attempting to create a computer virus,” Brady announced. “It will become very handy in the days ahead. But I’ve gone as far as I know how without the help of some others.”

  “What does it do exactly?”

  “It’ll override the satellites and Zalac’s network causing them to be unable to track our movements. If they’re technologically savvy, it’ll only work once and possibly for only a few hours. You’ll need to be connected to a computer communicating with the satellites. You’ll know when the moment comes. Depending on how smart the people running their systems are, you may have quite a bit of time.”

  Connor thought for a moment and saw no reason a computer virus would pose a threat against his network-less society. “I will let you have your team under a few conditions. First, you will give me the only copy of the virus when it’s completed.”

  “Agreed.”

  “You will have Andy and Joel on your team. They are two men I trust to inform me if you’re plotting on using this against us or overstep your bounds. And lastly you will keep me updated on a daily basis of your progress.”

  “Those all seem reasonable demands.”

  This act alone, proved how much Connor calmed down since their initial confrontation. When Brady quickly moved into the background and seemed to take no action against Connor’s leadership, Connor grew much less suspicious of him. And it helped that plotting against this new threat took most of Connor’s energy.

  Connor created a team of thirty soldiers to be commanded by Jones. Together Connor and Jones designed a way into the town’s water works system.

  “You should raid Peterson Air Force Base or Fort Carson for any remaining supplies,” Connor started. “Although we’ve stockpiled a lot of the weapons from there, we weren’t thinking of going on the offensive. Take anything that would be valuable on this type of mission. Take Val and some of her men to drive any tanks or larger weaponry to help reinforce the defenses here. I’d love to send you in with tanks, but Brady said this king is underground so I’ll keep them here.”

  “Do we know the number we’re up against?”

  “Unfortunately we don’t. As you know, most of the above ground forces have been dealt with besides that medium group of second level zombies north of downtown. There’s no telling how many have gone underground. Take the cure with you. Use it on any first level zombies you encounter.” Connor leaned in closer to Jones, “And then there’s the king to be dealt with. From Brady’s description of them, they’re altogether different animals. I’m not sure how they operate. The one Brady killed before was apparently very sizable and powerful. Brady claims he could manipulate his mind and cause hallucinations. As soon as you identify it, kill it as quickly as possible. Grenades and larger weaponry should do the trick.”

  “So it’s true the kings mind control their forces?”

  “It seems that way.”

  “Then I have to ask a question. Is there a chance the king can mind control us? Only a few months ago some of my men were still infected. Aren’t they still susceptible to mind control? I mean, how cured are they?”

  Connor sat back and thought for a moment. “We’ve never fought one before so we can’t be entirely sure. It’s a possibility. It’s not like the cure involves cutting out that part of your brain. I would send in a soldier first and test it. We just don’t have enough information about it. It’s possible there are stages of evolution in kings. Perhaps only a more developed one would be able to mind control humans. Maybe they have no ability to do that at all. With a test soldier, you should be able to tell quickly.”

  “And if he can?”

  “Take rocket launchers and destroy him from outside his range.”

  “In the sewers?”

  “Look,” Connor was getting frustrated. “We don’t really have much of a choice. Either we die or this king dies.”

  “We could move elsewhere.”

  “And die by attrition to the elements and zombie attacks? No, we’ll make our stand here. Live or die. I’m beginning to think I’ve chosen the wrong man to lead this mission.”

  Jones raised his hand. “No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.”

  “That’s better.”

  Jones left Connor’s command center and rejoined his waiting troops. “We’re hitting up the military bases for supplies and to help bring tanks here. After that we’re headed to the sewers.”

  Val laughed when she overheard his announcement on the way by. “Sounds like somebody drew the short straw!”

  “Don’t laugh too hard,” Jones reprimanded, “you’re joining us. We need help bringing the tanks back.”

  “I can’t-” Val protested, “I’m-” she hesitated to produce an excuse. “I-I…“

  “That’s what I thought. Suit up.”

  Val closed her mouth into a scowl.

  ∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  Within thirty minutes everyone rejoined the group by the north gate of the city. Jones and his usual crew climbed into his oversized 4x4 truck. Lifted. Cattle guard. Two mounted machine guns on either side of the bed. And one positioned on top of the cab facing forwards for good measure. The others called it the Jones Mobile. It had been blue once before blood and guts stained the front half. Jones had developed a reputation for running over his enemies. The truck had been his since before the infection. The only real difference was the new paint job, cattle guard, and machine guns. He and several of his frien
ds travelled the western part of the country in search of a people to call their own. When they arrived in Colorado Springs and found people, they decided it was as good a place as any to take up residence.

  Despite his jock appearance, Jones had dabbled in medical research before the infection. He got into the field mostly for the money and was not disappointed. When the miracle cure for cancer went around, he was cautious enough to refuse. He gathered up a few living friends right after the incident and started his team. They had been on the road ever since.

  With the second truck following beside, the two trucks made way towards the base.

  “Do you have any idea how to drive a tank?” one of Jones’ men asked him.

  “Not a clue.”

  “Does anybody know how to drive a tank?” the man yelled to the four in the truck bed and the one on the roof.

  “I skipped that class in high school,” Val said. “Didn’t seem relevant.”

  “This mission is a joke,” the man said more to Jones than anyone. “We’re pretty much guaranteed to die.”

  “We’ve just gotta keep our wits about us,” Jones encouraged. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. My wits getting sucked into some zombie’s mouth.”

  The team salvaged what little they could find in the military bases that hadn’t been already taken. Ten of the soldiers spent the first part of the afternoon trying to figure out a way to maneuver the tanks. After a few hours of practice, several managed to drive the machines with mild efficiency. Most were able to drive in straight lines and a halting jerking motion when turning. Operating the guns, however, was a different matter. In the end, they decided to leave its complexities to more fortunate ones. By four o’clock, Jones and his convoy slowly made their way back from the base.

  “It’s quiet out here,” the soldier in the passenger seat next to Jones commented.

  “I’m not going to lie,” Jones started to confess. “I’ll be really sad if we convert all the zombies back to humans. God! They are fun to have around! Those slow, dumb ones are my favorite. They have the best crunch.” Jones thought for a moment. “It’s like late fall leaves. Not the early ones, mind you. They’re too soft still. But late fall,” he said putting his index and thumb together and making a slight hum. “They have the best crunch.”

  “My God you’re an idiot, Jones.”

  “Oh come’on! You never went leaf crunching with your kids?”

  “No, I just never compared that to running over the undead.”

  At this no one ventured a response.

  Jones leaned forward on the steering wheel and turned his head to the right without making eye contact with the man next to him. “You know, you have no imagination.”

  The man rolled his eyes and they silently resumed watching the convoy of jerking tanks make their way towards the city.

  With the tank within the city limits, Jones gave his men fifteen minutes to get something to eat. He returned again to find his men gathered by the vehicles.

  “Let’s bounce, dogs,” he said climbing into his truck.

  “Shouldn’t we wait until morning?” one of the soldiers asked.

  “What difference does it make? Day or night is the same in the sewers.”

  “I’d feel more comfortable knowing it was daylight outside.”

  “That’s because you’re a pussy, Hackwood. Now let’s go.”

  ∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  The team slowly complied with Jones’ orders and soon five vehicles were on their way towards downtown. Near the perimeter the old Zombie King constructed, they located their entry point. A large culvert leading into the side of the hill. Hesitantly the team passed from the slipping daylight into the black of underground.

  “Lights on. Everybody locked and loaded?” Jones asked. “Somebody got the cure ready to go?”

  “Ready,” a soldier replied. “But I still don’t know what we’re going to do for the couple minutes of waiting for them to turn back to human.”

  “Ya, I don’t get it either,” Jones confessed. “The cure was Connor’s idea. It would be one thing if it’s immediate but it’s not. So I say just bathe the big rooms in the cure for good measure but plan on shooting all the crack heads anyway.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Jones scoffed lightly at such a formal military-sounding word.

  A ways in, they discovered spray painted zombies lining the walls.

  “There must be forty of these things,” one of the soldiers commented.

  Soon they were met with several smaller passages leading off in different directions. Jones decided to continue down the main corridor and soon they started seeing signs of infestation. Jones positioned five men to watch their back while the bulk of the team proceeded forward. One of the many beams of light pointed forward caught the foot of a zombie just as it disappeared into a neighboring pathway. Jones gestured that he’d seen one.

  Several of the men started getting skittish. “This is suicide,” one wailed.

  “We can’t maneuver in here,” cried another. “They’ll just overwhelm us by numbers.”

  The noise of gunfire erupted filling the tiny passage. Lights flashed behind them and several turned to see the soldiers in back under assault. The soldier with the cure launched the little jar of cure he had into the darkness ahead of them. Jones used hand signals to send ten more troops to help them out in the rear. About that same time, second level zombies poured in through the opening ahead. Jones and those standing beside him knelt down to allow those behind them to engage the enemy. The roar of the guns in such a confined space stung their ears and any moment of quiet was overshadowed by a deep ringing. The first line of zombies was reduced to shreds by the forward guns. Jones sent several more to help clean up the rear and soon those had been dealt with as well.

  The corridor quieted down. But as they proceeded, blood curdling screams bounced down the tunnel.

  “Who’s out there?” one of the soldiers screamed.

  “Shut up,” Jones yelled. “It’s just their first level zombies being converted back.”

  “We’ve got to save them!”

  Jones turned to the man. “Please go ahead and run out alone. We’ll wait here.” The man seemed frustrated by the answer. “If you wander off, I swear I’ll shoot you myself. They’re lost. We’re not going to try to save them. Just be glad you don’t have to fight them.”

  “You can’t be serious. They could be new recruits! We need as many people as we can get.”

  “We aren’t going to take on the liability of escorting them out of here.” The man opened his mouth to argue, but Jones cut him off. “We’re done talking about it.”

  They continued on deeper into the maze of pathways meeting scattered resistance. More bodies and bones started lining the floors as they walked. Eventually they couldn’t move about without the sound of crunching bones beneath them.

  “There are hundreds of skeletons in here,” a soldier commented. “Where did they find all these humans?”

  “The second level zombies are scavengers,” Jones said.

  A soldier reached down to pick up a pair of jeans. He rummaged through it and managed to pull out the wallet. Flipping it open, he remarked, “This guy was from a Colorado town called Cheyenne Wells. Anybody know where that is?”

  “Out east somewhere,” another replied.

  “I’ve seen second level zombies travel great distances carrying their victims on their backs,” Jones commented. “These bodies could be from all over.”

  “Makes you wonder,” another started, “who else is out there. I mean, are there other towns or groups of people or are we pretty much all dead?”

  “Focus, people,” Jones tried to bring them back to the task at hand. “I think we’re getting close. Get those bazookas and grenades ready.”

  They stepped forward slowly through a bend in the corridor. As they did, several foes came leaping forward at them faster than they
could react. The two standing on either side of Jones took the brunt of their impact. Though the team fought them off, it wasn’t before the zombies severed most of their victim’s necks. Jones put the casualty count in his head to two. They tossed a grenade down the bend just to be on the safe side. The explosion rang out louder than if they were standing in a bell tower. It became almost impossible to hear after that.

  Gunfire erupted again as another attack commenced behind them. Jones sent several troops to assist but even with their aid, they started overwhelming them. With over half of their forces committed behind them, Jones was horrified to see a large force attacking from the front. Jones grabbed two grenades and attempted to toss them over the zombie’s heads and deep into the crowd. But it bounced off one of the monsters and landed where it exploded among their own men. Fumes and fire exploded through the claustrophobic tunnel. One of the men screamed when he raised his arms to discover his severed hands.

  Without wanting to take the time to reload, Jones reached down and grabbed a dead soldier’s weapon firing off the remainder of its clip towards the onslaught. Miraculously the horde in front started thinning. With all sense of hearing overwhelmed, Jones did not notice the soldier’s warning until they grabbed him by the shoulder. He turned to find a great number of zombies broke through their rear line. Having little choice, Jones ordered the remainder of his troops deeper into the corridor. They finished off the remainder of the horde before them and charged as fast as they could manage on the uneven ground. Jones looked back and guessed probably a dozen men remained. He wanted to update the body count in his head, but couldn’t spare the energy.

  Luckily several of the zombies behind them stopped to devour their kills which gave them a bit of a head start down the tunnel. Jones chucked two more grenades into the crowd behind them as they left. The deafening explosion shook the corridor. Fumes and the smell of death soaked into them.

  They came quickly to a large room full of bodies floating in water. There in an adjacent tunnel came several more second level zombies. The humans started to engage them but stopped when an altogether different being burst through their ranks. It rose to its full height and the remaining soldiers cowered below it. In its full wretched glory, the king seized the minds of those cured. Jones watched in horror as his troops collapsed before their new king. The king flew over the water and landed on three uncontrolled soldiers. This left only Jones and one other unbent to his will. Like the zombies around them, the controlled soldiers lunged towards the uncontrolled humans gnashing their teeth. Without hesitation, the king tore into the bodies of the two soldiers nearest him.

 

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