Legacy of the Living

by Sean Liebling

  Below him, he heard the office door open, then a man's brisk voice spoke out.

  "It's clear, Miss Jean. We'll be outside in case you need us."

  "Thank you, Corporal. I'll let you know if I need anything." Jean’s voice filtered up and Nolan grinned to himself. This would not be easy, and it was a shame good men would have to die. But they had a bigger picture to concentrate on. He settled back down to wait while listening to the soft sounds of Jean typing on her laptop.

  *****

  DAY 12: 1500 ET Tuesday NOVEMBER 15TH

  "Well?" Johnny was pestering Whit again. So far today they had almost continuously fought off the guppies while losing seven more of their own. They were definitely losing this battle, his Celeste was pregnant, and Johnny was exhausted. He was dirty, covered in blood, and had just come back from seeing two friends buried after fighting the fourth incursion that day. They needed help, and now.

  Johnny had never thought he would have a son or a daughter, a child to hold in his arms and love. It was a novel experience, but a righteous one. It had taken him a few hours to get used to the idea, but now that it had had a chance to percolate in his head, he was happy.

  "We need help now, Whit. We are losing."

  "I know, I know. I'm getting ready to test it again here in a few minutes. I think we got the windings and height right this time," Whit responded while the crew helping him looked at Johnny and smiled, one of them clapping him on the shoulder. News of Celeste's pregnancy had traveled far and fast, which was driving Johnny crazy.

  "If it doesn't work, Whit, I'm going to send the babies out on the backs of every able-bodied person we have over the electrical wires. At least they'll maybe have a chance.”

  "Johnny, I think we got it this time. I really do. Remember, this is all trial and error since we don’t have any engineering books. We had to break down the antenna of a car mount and expand it in scope using wave theory. It's not as easy as it looks."

  "Less talk more work, Whit, or you'll be explaining your wave theory to guppies as they're eating you."

  "Right. Well, just hold on a minute. We'll be ready to try again in a few minutes."

  Johnny limped over to the nearby wall and slumped to the concrete floor, hanging his head. Oh Loki, he was one tired fuck. His arms were like lead and his left leg felt like it was on fire. First it had gone numb, then feeling returned and with it, massive amounts of pain.

  "Hi, Johnny. Are you okay? You're all covered in blood!" Chester had lumbered in with Puppy under one arm.

  "I'm okay, Chester. It's not my blood. How are you and Puppy?"

  "Just fine, Johnny. We had fun today. We fought the bad things and helped dig holes in the ground for beds." Chester was happy, as usual, and squatted next to Johnny, setting his puppy down. Puppy ran around Chester, bumping him with his nose while Chester playfully swatted at him. Johnny smiled ironically as Chester spoke, knowing the beds in the ground he referred to were graves for those who had died today. Even at thirty years of age, Chester's boyish red face reminded him of a small child's. His bright eyes and happy-go-lucky grin was always plastered on his face, unless he was crying or mad. Right now, he was happy, and with Chester, happiness was always contagious with everyone around him. Johnny laughed at their antics and felt better already. Surely Loki would not let souls like Chester's pass on to Hel before their time. Johnny shook his head again as he watched them.

  "Alright, Johnny. We're ready to try it again.”

  Whit was shaking his shoulder and Johnny realized he must have dozed off in his state of fatigue. Loki, you trickster, if you fuck with us this time I'm passing my allegiance to your brother Thor! Johnny clambered to his feet and grabbed the microphone, nodded to Whit, then waited impatiently while Whit fiddled with stuff on his workbench. Johnny couldn't make heads nor tails of all the wiring and circuit boards lying across it, but Whit looked like he knew what he was doing.

  "Come on, man. I'm dying of old age here," he growled impatiently.

  "Hold your horses. I'm checking all the connections one last time."

  Johnny rolled his eyes. "Then check them quicker, damn it. Gotta tell you, dude. It isn't looking good out there, and we are low on everything."

  "I know, and you're repeating yourself, Johnny." Whit stopped fiddling with the wiring, then turned the power on the vehicle CB while slowly turning a dial up, increasing power. Again, a deep hum filled the small work shed and Johnny could have sworn he smelled ozone. Looking at the radio, Johnny saw a tiny dial labeled “channel” was set to nine. Whit made several more checks with his meter, then nodded at Johnny, who raised the microphone to his lips and depressed the switch on its side while speaking slowly and clearly.

  "Can anyone out there hear me? This is Johnny, of Clear Haven Rehabilitation Clinic next to Mercy Hospital. We are a large group of survivors in major need of assistance. Help us please. We have held out for twelve days, and today might be our last. Come in, anyone. Can anybody hear me?" Johnny paused for fifteen seconds, then repeated his message. He shrugged after his third attempt while a feeling of despair swept over him, and for a moment he felt like screaming his rage at the fates. Then his shoulders slumped as he dropped the microphone to the bench and turned to leave. The others looked at him with varying expressions of sadness and Whit started to reach a hand out to him, when suddenly the speaker sitting next to the CB crackled to life.

  "Is this the Johnny we heard yesterday? And where in hell are you? What's your situation?"

  Johnny felt his heart lurch and turned, while instantly snatching the microphone off the bench.

  "Yes! This is Johnny Clark. We are at the Clear Haven Rehabilitation Clinic next to Mercy Hospital in Muskegon. We number over six hundred souls, although were losing more every hour, and we are surrounded. We need help and need it now or it's over for us. The guppies number too many to count, and we're low on ammunition. Can you help us?"

  "What the hell is a guppy?" the reply came back.

  "The undead! What do you call them?"

  "Zombies! Are you transportable, Clear Haven?"

  "What does that mean? If we could get out we would have already."

  "I mean, can you evac if a window can be opened to let you out?"

  "That would be tough. We are mostly disabled with doctors, nurses, and hospital staff. I think there are two soldiers still alive but not sure at this time. We just beat them back again while losing a bunch of people. They've been attacking all day and we’re tired. We also have thirty-two neonatals from Mercy. Most are in cribs. It would take time."

  "Neonatals? You mean newborn babies, Johnny?”

  "Yes, I mean newborn babies, we rescued them from Mercy Hospital as it was overrun. Sorry, I'm just tired. We're all tired here. There must be thirty thousand of the bastards out there and they all want their dinner."

  "We'll see what we can do for you, Johnny. I'll pass the word up because we're too small to lend that kind of hand. We'll have to call on Newaygo for something like this. I'll let you know."

  "Thank you. Who is this, and who is Newaygo?"

  "My name's Brad. We are a small group about fifteen or so miles east and south of you. There's a big group forming up by Newaygo. We'll try to get the word to them. Maybe they can help you. I'll be back in touch."

  "Wait, Brad. If it helps, we've got mostly women and children here. Please help us man!"

  "I'll do what I can, Johnny, but we're too small to lend a direct hand against odds like that. Signing off temporarily to pass the word up but I'll be back. Keep holding on, over."

  "We're holding as best we can, but we just lost seven good people in the last hour. Thank you for anything you can do!"

  Johnny slowly set the microphone down and looked around at the stunned faces surrounding him. He dared not hope. He patted Chester on the shoulder as he limped out.

  *****

  "Sparta. Come in please, this is Coopersville. Emergency, Sparta. Come in Goddamn it!"

  Jeff lurched forwar
d as his feet dropped off the desk, and he reached for the microphone.

  "Coopersville, this is Sparta, go ahead. Just talked to you boys an hour ago. What's the emergency? Zombies?" Jeff chuckled to himself but made sure the microphone switch wasn't pressed. They were on scan and Coopersville was coming in on Channel 14. Kent City Group had Channel 12 and so forth. They were rapidly establishing a network of survivors.

  "Dude! Just got a mayday out of Muskegon. It's that same one we caught part of yesterday. They're by Mercy Hospital at a rehabilitation clinic called Clear Haven. They have over six hundred souls and are dying.They lost seven in the last hour and don't think they'll make it through the day. That guy Johnny said they rescued over thirty newborns from Mercy Hospital before it was overrun, and they're holding out with disabled people and hospital staff. They’re dying, man. Need it passed up to Newaygo and now. Muskegon says they're facing over thirty thousand of the fuckers and Newaygo is the only one with the juice to open a window long enough to get them out. Muskegon's in the shit and they need our help. Time to let Newaygo know about us."

  "Holy shit. We're only thirty, forty minutes away, but we can't handle thirty thousand zombies either. I agree, Newaygo is the only one who might be able to. What are you guys gonna do?"

  "Well hell dude. I haven't talked it over with Roxanne yet, but there are babies, man. Disabled, too. I'm going to call for volunteers. I'm betting Newaygo will respond. You've heard their broadcasts! Maybe we can help Muskegon hold out long enough for more help to arrive. If not, nice knowing you Jeff."

  Jeff hung his head for a moment, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he listened to Brad's words. Over the past week they had become friends, as good a pair of friends as talking over the radio would allow. Jeff knew what they had to do, and sighed before speaking again.

  "I'm gonna call for volunteers too. I know my Mary. I can't let babies die, and she wouldn't let me. I'll meet you there, or in hell, brother."

  "Roger that, Coopersville out."

  Jeff turned the dial on the base station and spoke again.

  "Kent City, come in. We have an emergency. I need one passed up to Newaygo. It's time to let them know about us."

  "Sparta. What the fuck are you talking about?" Kent City almost instantly radioed back, and Jeff recognized Bill's voice.

  "Bill. This is as bad as it gets," and Jeff started talking fast.

  *****

  One of the women operating the bank of radios called out to Alethea.

  "Alethea. You need to listen to this."

  Alethea turned, and the group with her turned also. She was still showing the Reaper and Travis around after their morning of shooting from the smokestack. They'd had their bandages changed again, and after lunch she’d offered to show them the operations areas where the Sirens listened in to what was going on in the world around them.

  "Put it on speaker!" Alethea commanded.

  Almost instantly two male voices filled the air, describing a mayday out of Muskegon. As the Reaper listened, his face grew colder and he turned to Alethea.

  "We've got to leave, and now."

  "Oh? Where are you going?" Alethea smiled slightly.

  "Muskegon. They need a hand, and it's the Lords will."

  "Not alone you're not. We're coming with you."

  "Your funeral." The Reaper shrugged and nodded to Travis who nodded back.

  *****

  Quickly Bill jotted down notes as his eyes grew wider and wider, then he was hollering for Larry over the facility PA system. It was only moments before Larry came running in at a bound and Bill quickly filled him in.

  "I need a group to head north about ten miles until you can reach Newaygo on the portable CBs"

  "I thought we hadn't decided yet to let them know about us?"

  "Just got off the radio with Sparta. They were relaying from Coopersville, who received a distress call out of Muskegon. A disability clinic called Clear Haven is being overrun. They've held out for twelve days and are about to get eaten by thirty thousand zombies minimum, and that's not all. This group in Muskegon rescued over thirty babies from Mercy Hospital before the hospital went under. My understanding is they're fighting back with disabled and hospital staff at this clinic, but they’re dying. We can't send them any help but Newaygo might be able to do something."

  "Fuck yeah we can send help. I'll make damn sure Newaygo gets the word, but we can send people. We're closer than Newaygo."

  "Larry. I understand what you're feeling, but it's thirty thousand zombies minimum. We can't help. You'll never make it. Besides, I won't let you leave."

  "You can't stop me. I'm calling for volunteers. Quit being a pussy, Bill, and get with it. The human race needs to stick together."

  Bill nodded slowly as Larry's words sunk in, and he straightened in his chair. "You're right. I'll do the volunteer call while you assemble your team and head north to deliver the message."

  *****

  Larry poured the last few ounces of gas into the quad and threw the can to the side. He signaled his boys. The four of them had raided the zombies more than a few times. They were getting very good at this. He slung the M16A4 across his back and fired up the Suzuki 4-cylinder, listening for a moment to its deep roar, then flipped his visor down. They had a mission. Time to help get the word out, and they were the team for it. To get the word to Newaygo, he and his guys would have to drive about ten miles north so the handheld CBs would reach. That was further than they'd gone in days. Still, six hundred souls, and among them over thirty newborns, was more than a good enough reason to risk one's life.

  He signaled the others. Jamie, Rod, and Bruce gave him the thumbs up and he floored it. There was no time to waste, and it was only ten miles after all. He grinned savagely as he dodged the first zombie two hundred yards past their gate, and turned north in a shower of dirt.

  A short while later, Larry raised the portable CB radio to his mouth and called out, "Come in Newaygo. This is Kent City. Respond please."

  Silence.

  Larry sighed and tried again, "Newaygo, come in. This is Kent City, can you hear me? Come in Newaygo. Emergency!"

  Then his radio crackled and the voice of Newaygo responded.

  *****

  Chapter 15

  DAY 12: 1530 ET TUESDAY NOVEMBER 15TH

  Zeke frowned at the sudden sound, then looked up as static issued from one of the several speakers overhead. By its color coding, that particular speaker was connected to a receiver that was tuned to CB transmissions, and the tuner constantly cycled through all the bands. Newaygo Command had been receiving quite a few faint transmissions over the last few days, but none of those they’d heard had answered return transmissions. It was disturbing. There was speculation among many here that perhaps Newaygo Command wasn't being received, or perhaps they were just being ignored, as was likely the case according to the commander. The commander’s theory was why would surviving groups subject themselves to being commanded by a government entity when the old government had already thoroughly screwed them.

  Zeke understood that, now that his brain was working properly. The pot, finally out of his system, had shown him something he never thought he'd have until he realized it was missing: a fully functional brain. He was doing a good job here, and his girlfriend Diane was proud of him. Sam was like a dad to him now, as they had grown very close with Dorothy's death, and despite the circumstances of this endgame apocalypse, Zeke was actually happy. Corporal Rider, the commanders LSS, was proud of him too. He could tell. Now there was another little hottie. Truth be told, hotter than his Diane, but he'd never utter that thought out loud. Besides, she was the commander’s woman, and the street word was total hands off the CO's babes and all that if you knew what was good for you.

  Above Zeke the speaker emitted static again, and he frowned. Then a voice came through faintly ...

  "Newaygo, come in. This is Kent City, can you hear me? Come in Newaygo. Emergency!"

  Zeke's eyes darted to t
he left as his body lurched forward, and he saw that the CB scanner was locked on Channel 12. He reached out and quickly flipped two switches to put his headset on the same frequency.

  "This is Newaygo Command. Who is this?"

  "What? You deaf? I just said Kent City!"

  "Right, Kent City. I meant, who is this personally?"

  "Newaygo, or Newaygo Command, does it matter what my name is? We have a desperate situation only you might be able to help with."

  "OK Kent City, go ahead."

  "I'm relaying a message through other survivor groups from Muskegon. Clear Haven Rehabilitation Clinic near Mercy Hospital is about to be overrun by zombies. Six hundred plus souls are in immediate jeopardy. They are dying by the hour with not much time left, Newaygo. The word is they are mostly women and children, including over thirty newborn babies rescued from Mercy Hospital Neonatal Ward before it fell. It's the only reason we came ten miles north out of Kent City to let you know. We don't trust you yet, but this takes priority. Can you help them? Over."

  Zeke's right hand immediately slapped the alarm button, and in the background he heard the sirens going off. He knew the commander would want to hear this, and as the commander was fond of saying ... like five minutes ago.

  "Kent City, I've summoned the governor. He should be here within minutes. Hold please."

  "Governor? When did that happen?"