The Last Town

by Knight, Stephen

  “I’ve never been so offended in my life,” Hector sputtered. “You vile, racist little man—”

  “Oh, Hector, he’s right. Just shut the hell up,” Gemma Washington said. “Let’s hear what Corbett has to say. You’ll get your turn, don’t worry.”

  Corbett nodded to her. “Thank you, ma’am.” He turned to Norton. “Like I said earlier, I’m in charge of agitating at the moment. Got everything off your chest?”

  Norton sank back into his seat, mortally embarrassed by his outburst. “Yeah. Yeah. I apologize for that.”

  “No need to apologize. You’ve got it all on the ball, and you’ve seen more of this than we have.” Corbett turned back to the council. “Okay. Getting back to it. Yes, Aguilar, I might be overreacting, but I don’t think so. We’ve seen a good share of civilization drop off the map, and now it’s here, all around home plate. We have to start making preparations. I’ve been doing a lot of legwork, talking to a lot of people all over the country. Non-military government services are failing. The markets are collapsing. Transportation is grinding to a halt. We already know that air travel is no longer available, which means that people aren’t going to be able to get their Amazon packages and Omaha steaks for a while. Pretty soon, grocery stores will be running out of goods. Ammunition is pretty much gone already, and I’ve been told that local police forces have walked into gun shops and helped themselves to as much as they could carry, which was pretty much all of it. Up north, in Idaho, Montana, the Dakotas, and Minnesota, people are already doing what I’m suggesting we do here. Winter’s coming, and those people up there don’t have a lot of time to prepare, so they’re starting right now. Down south, it’s more or less the same thing. South Texas is pulling its shit together, and the Texas legislature has already decided to activate the entire National Guard. I’ve also heard that if the president decides to federalize those troops, the governor will not recognize the change in status.

  “The East Coast is getting hammered the hardest. From Miami to Boston, things are going bad. Manhattan and DC are tits up. The government is still throwing a lot of resources at them, but it’s too late. I’ve been told that there is activity as close to us as Las Vegas, which is not surprising, as it’s a destination for transients and foreign nationals who were likely infected before the quarantines went up. Basically, this is like the Ebola scare of a couple of years ago, only much, much worse.” He looked pointedly at Grady and Aguilar. “And I heard we had a dead-rise already, right here in town. Old Wally dropped dead in your pharmacy, Aguilar, then reanimated and took a chunk right out of one of your employees. By the way, Lou’s in isolation up in Bishop, at Inyo County Hospital, along with eighteen others. That’s nineteen people already, folks. Twenty, if you count Wallace.”

  “But how did Wallace get bitten?” Gemma asked. “This disease, it’s transferred through bites, from exposure to an infected’s bodily fluids. How did he get it?”

  “Yeah, let’s talk about that real quick,” Corbett said. “When Norton said the government was soft-shoeing it, he should have been more direct. The government’s been outright lying. We’re all infected. Whatever this virus is, we all have it, and when we die, we’re going to reanimate, and the newly arrived dead will have a hankering for meat. Unfortunately, burgers from Carl’s Jr. aren’t going to satisfy that special craving.”

  “Wait, wait! Stop right there!” Chief Grady raised his hand. “How do you know this? That everyone’s infected?”

  “Because I heard it from the chief of the global health security branch at the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta,” Corbett said.

  “And why would he tell you?”

  “For a couple of reasons. One, I contribute almost sixty million dollars a year to healthcare research organizations he chairs. And two, he needed my help. I sent a plane for his family that transported them to Minneapolis, which, incidentally, is how I know the city is fortifying itself for whatever comes their way. Commercial flights have been packed solid for five days, and he wanted to ensure they got to where they needed to be. The information paid for their passage.”

  “You trade in lives now, Barry?” Booker asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Corbett shook his head. “Protecting women and children is in my DNA, Max. But the good doctor felt indebted, and I accepted his offer of information. And it was crucial information. If I didn’t know that, I might not be here.”

  “This friend of yours, is he a smart guy?” Victor asked. “I mean, smart enough to maybe unravel what’s causing all of this?”

  “I know where you’re going, Victor. Yes, he might be, but he needs the facilities at the CDC. I offered to transplant him north with his wife and family where he could continue his research up at the Mayo Clinic, but he needed to defer his departure. Unfortunately, the FAA and Department of Homeland Security sanitized the airspace, so he’s stuck in Atlanta. Nothing more I can do. None of my pilots are going to risk a Sidewinder missile up the ass. I do have contingency plans to extract him, if at all possible, but for now, he’s probably pretty safe.” Corbett turned back to Booker and the rest of the town council. “All of this aside, and getting down to brass tacks, I fully expect the lion’s share of government services, excluding the military, to fail in two to three weeks. We’re already seeing an increase in traffic through town, as people try and get to wherever it is they’re headed. All those transients are consuming resources we need, and they pose a risk toward accelerating infection here in town. We can’t allow that to continue.”

  Booker shook his head. “So what are you proposing, Corbett? That we somehow close US 395?”

  “That’s on page eleven of the planning guide in your hand. I have enough demolition explosives to take out both ends of the highway on either side of town, and we can use heavy construction equipment to dig trench lines wide enough to keep anyone from driving around. At the same time, we’ll need to dig trenches around the town to slow anyone who tries to get in on foot.”

  “And what about the people who manage to get past the trenches?” Booker asked.

  You’re not going to like that answer, Max, Norton thought.

  “That’s why we have the additional defenses Grady asked about. We throw up concertina wire barriers until we get the steel fencing in,” Corbett said. “And if anyone gets through those… well, we’ll have to decide on that later.”

  “You plan to kill them,” Grady said.

  Corbett peered at him. “I prefer nonlethal methods, but some people won’t be easily dissuaded.”

  “I thought you said protecting women and children was in your DNA,” Gemma said. Her eyes were hard and bright beneath her graying brow.

  “It is,” Corbett said. “But only God can save everyone, and he’s apparently got a lot on his plate right now.”

  Grady shook his head, looking gobsmacked. “So who do you think is going to do this work, Corbett? The Single Tree police?”

  Corbett pointed at the three men he’d brought with him. “These men and the twenty others who came with me are ready to do the heavy lifting in return for my sponsorship, which includes keeping their families safe for as long as I can.” He put a hand on his chest. “And of course, I’ll be helping. I’ll do what it takes to protect the town.”

  Victor Kuruk closed the binder on his lap and got to his feet. “That would be an incredible burden for any man to carry, even for you boys, wouldn’t it? Killing defenseless families who are desperate for shelter, safety?”

  The oldest of Corbett’s men took a few steps forward. He was in his fifties, and he had a face that looked well worn and well traveled. From the way he carried himself, it was easy to see he had been a career military man. “Sir, for my family, I will do anything,” the man said. “If this comes to pass, then I’ll be ready to do whatever it takes to protect them. I will not like it, I will try to avoid it, and I will never look forward to it. I understand it will eventually be my undoing, because there are some things I will never be able to forget
. But for my family, I would sacrifice myself in a heartbeat.” He motioned to the two men beside him. “As will they. As will Mr. Corbett. And if you’re truthful with yourself, so will you.”

  Aguilar scoffed. “How touching.”

  Victor walked toward Corbett, slipping his glasses into his shirt pocket. “Barry? No big words, now. Do you absolutely believe these things are going to happen?”

  “They already are, Victor,” Norton said. “Corbett’s not lying to anyone. He’s offering the town a lifeline. But for it to be any good, we have to take it. Now. Tonight.”

  “What lifeline is that?” Booker asked. “Blowing up highways? Blowing away kids?”

  “I have construction equipment ready to go,” Corbett said. “We can start work on the trenches tonight. Right now. All I have to do is give the crews the word. We have all the records. We know where every pipe and conduit is. At the same time, we can start shutting down Main Street. Close the gas stations, the restaurants, the shops. We start conserving what we have and make the town as inhospitable as possible. Don’t give people a reason to stop, but give them every reason to keep on driving.” He turned to Victor. “Yes, Victor. I expect this to come our way. I hope it doesn’t, but I don’t see any way around it. We need to be prepared. Are you in?”

  “Of course I am,” Victor said.

  Norton was surprised, but Corbett didn’t seem to be.

  “What?” Aguilar said. “Seriously?”

  Victor nodded. “Seriously. I might live on a reservation, but I’m not an idiot. And my people suffered centuries of violence—some might say even genocide, yes? You might have noticed the reservation is for Indians and not white people. I’m not interested in seeing my community come to further harm. So yes, I think the Paiute-Shoshone people will take Mr. Corbett up on his gracious offer.” He looked at Norton. “You too, Gary?”

  Norton nodded with a sigh. “All in.”

  Victor looked at the mayor. “Max?”

  Booker motioned to the others seated at the table. “Yeah, we’ll have to discuss this. Privately.” He put a hand on Grady’s arm. “Chief, you should stay, if you don’t mind.”

  Grady nodded. “Yeah. Sure thing.”

  “Where can I reach you, Barry?” Booker asked.

  “I’ll be out front.” With that, Corbett ambled up the aisle, heading for the door. His escort followed. They left the empty box behind.

  Norton rolled up his copy of the document and got to his feet. He surreptitiously brushed the palm of his hand against the butt of his pistol, making sure it was still properly seated in the Kydex holster beneath his shirt. Victor waved him out ahead of him, so Norton mounted the aisle and walked after Corbett and his entourage, with Victor bringing up the rear.

  “You all right?” Corbett asked in the entry foyer outside.

  “What do you mean?” Norton asked as the door closed behind them.

  Victor stopped a few feet away, pulling on his leather jacket. He zipped it up halfway then reached inside it and pulled out a silver cigarette case.

  “I mean I thought you were going around the bend in there,” Corbett said. “But of course, Hector does that to everyone.”

  Norton sighed and put on his own jacket. “No, that was just me having my first hissy fit in about fifteen years.”

  “Next time, just plug him,” Victor said. “What are you carrying, anyway?”

  Norton looked at him. “Huh?”

  Victor patted the small of his back. “You were printing.”

  “Oh. Smith. Shield, in nine millimeter.”

  Victor nodded sagely as he popped open his cigarette case. “Ah. Such a cute little gun. Shall we step outside?”

  “Yeah, let’s.” Corbett led the way, as always.

  Outside, the night was deep and dark, and a chill wind clawed at them. The parking lot was empty, save for Norton’s Jeep, Corbett’s pickup, and his escort’s SUV, which was manned by a single guard.

  “Victor, did you walk here?” Norton asked.

  “I rode my horse. It’s down there.” Victor pointed toward the far end of the parking lot, and in the darkness, Norton saw a burly Harley Davidson XLCH.

  “Horse, huh?”

  Victor pulled a hand-rolled cigarette from his case and put it between his lips. “A modern-day horse. Cigarette?” He held out the case.

  Norton waved the offer aside. Corbett shook his head as well. Victor looked over at the bodyguards, but they had moved fifteen feet away, giving the men some privacy.

  Victor shrugged, tucked the cigarette case back in his jacket, and lit his smoke with a bright Zippo lighter. “So, Barry, it seems to me that my people might be better served relocating closer to town. I would guess the smaller our footprint, the less spread out our defenses would need to be.” He took a long drag and exhaled a cloud of pungent smoke that drifted away from them, roiling in the nighttime desert breeze.

  “That would make more sense, but I am prepared to make two camps,” Corbett said. “We need to keep the airport clear, anyway.”

  “But how would we get to it?” Norton asked. “And why?”

  Corbett tapped the binder Norton held. “Page seventy-four. Thought you’d read that.”

  “Uh, read? Yes. Memorized? No.”

  “Airport’s the last stand,” Corbett said. “If things hit the shitter, there won’t be many of us left, anyway. We can fly out to the coast.”

  “You have another plan?” Victor asked.

  “Gary has a yacht,” Corbett said.

  Norton shot the older man a sidelong look. “Damn, how did you know that?”

  “I have resources. I just wish that boat was a bit bigger,” Corbett said, staring off into the darkness.

  “How big is it, exactly?” Victor asked.

  “Eighty-five feet,” Norton said. “Pacific Mariner. Sleeps twelve in staterooms, but it could hold maybe two or three times that number if people aren’t particular.”

  “If it comes to that, we won’t be,” Corbett said. “Is it in good shape?”

  “What do your sources tell you?”

  “That you don’t take it out that much, since you need a couple of crew to come along, but that it seems to be mechanically sound and fit for maritime duty.”

  “Uh-huh. And how do you propose we get there?”

  Corbett continued staring into the darkness. “We have these things called airplanes, Gary.”

  “Those things called airplanes need runways, Barry.”

  “You’ll need to consider getting your feet wet, Norton.”

  “Not sure I like the sound of that,” Victor said. “But I’ll be sure to carry my swimming trunks with me, just in case.”

  “Sounds like a plan, Victor,” Corbett said. “Thanks for getting on board with this, by the way.”

  Victor took another drag. “It’s better to have less thunder in the mouth and more lightning in the hand.”

  “Is that a Paiute-Shoshone proverb?” Norton asked.

  Victor grinned, his teeth gleaming in the dark. “It is now. Will one of you let me know their decision?” He nodded toward the town hall building behind them.

  “We will. Taking off?” Corbett asked.

  “Yes. I figure one more peaceful night watching America’s Got Talent won’t be such a bad thing, after all.” With that, the solid-looking Native American sauntered down to his waiting motorcycle.

  “You know, I never really talked with Victor much before,” Norton said, watching as the man put his helmet on before straddling the Harley. “He’s a pretty cool guy.”

  “He was an ass kicker before he got discovered,” Corbett said. “Now instead of punching people’s lights out, he actually talks. I hear it happened after he went to some Los Angelino dentist and got himself some new pearly whites. He’s a cheap bastard, won’t risk anything happening to them.”

  Norton laughed. “Really?”

  Victor’s Harley roared to life, and the headlight snapped on, cutting a swath through the darkness.
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  “Really. Take a look at his knuckles next time.” Corbett watched as Victor sped off into the night, his motorcycle bellowing. “A real ass kicker forty years ago, for sure.”

  LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

  Reese stayed close behind Bates as they led Narvaez and four other National Guardsmen through the hospital, shotguns held before them. Progress was slow. Not only did they not know exactly where they were needed, but the gunfire and screaming had ignited a panic. People were scattered in the corridors, seeking some sort of safe haven. As the group moved, rooms with closed doors were of little concern, but those with open doors had to be swept, in case a threat lay within. No one wanted a zombie to get behind them. Usually, pasty-faced patients looked back at Reese as he stopped at each doorway, sweeping the barrel of his shotgun across the room. Sometimes, the rooms were empty. But so far, no zombies had been present, which suited Reese just fine.

  The team pushed down the corridor, wending their way around patients, many of whom weren’t mobile enough to get out of the way. Those ended up getting plastered against the walls or knocked to the floor, which added to the pandemonium.

  “Where’s the problem?” Reese bellowed at a male nurse.

  “Up there, outside of the isolation ward!” the man shouted back. He was pushing a bed down the hall. An IV pole hung on the bed, and a sallow-faced old man lay on the mattress, his eyes half closed.

  “Where’s the isolation ward?” Reese asked, but the nurse just kept going.

  “Up here!” another nurse cried. She led a fellow nurse by the arm. Both women’s scrubs were dappled with dark blood. Reese noted the second nurse was bleeding badly from a wound in her thigh. The woman helping her turned at the waist and pointed up the hall. “There! Right there!”

  “This looks kind of fucked up,” Bates said as he advanced, the butt of his shotgun pulled tight against his shoulder.

  “All you people, get out of here!” Narvaez shouted, his voice muffled by his face mask. “If you can’t get out, get into a room and close the doors! We’ll come for you when it’s safe!”