An Undeclared War (Countdown to Armageddon Book 4)

by Darrell Maloney

  “Oh, sure. All of it. Well, most of it. Actually, some of it.”

  “Which part of it’s true?”

  “She once had a husband.”

  “And he died?”

  “No. He walked out on her six months ago. He said she was an evil witch.”

  “And that’s the kind of woman you’re going to sick on our friend?”

  “Hey, evil witches need love too. And she did say she hasn’t dated anyone since her husband left. So for all I know she really does have a lot of pent-up womanly passion she wants to share with someone.”

  “And did you ask her that?”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Don’t you think you should have?”

  “I didn’t want to broach the subject. I mean, the thought of her and Randy in a passionate embrace makes my skin crawl. I wanted to shoot myself just to get the vision out of my head.”

  Scott pictured Sloan and Randy in the throes of passion and agreed.

  “Yeah… I see what you mean.”

  John pulled the squad car into the driveway of his home, and the three walked into his house.

  Randy, playing solitaire at the dining room table, looked up and asked, “What are you three loons laughing about?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  -23-

  Scott went back to work the following day, and was on the streets for only a few hours when he got a call on the squad car’s radio.

  “Meet the chief on tac three.”

  Uh oh.

  He switched radio channels and called in. “Chief, this is Charlie Four Six..”

  The chief was an excellent policeman, but a rather low key kind of guy.

  “Scott, what’s your present location?”

  Eastbound on Marbach Road, between the loops.

  “Very well. Can you meet me at the abandoned H.E.B. on Marbach and Loop 410?”

  “10-4, chief. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

  Scott had been on the force long enough now to be entrusted with a rookie. They’d just met four hours before. The rookie’s name was Rhett Butler.

  “Please don’t laugh,” the rookie had said as they shook hands. “My mother was a big Gone With the Wind fan.”

  Scott smiled but didn’t laugh. He liked the kid immediately, and they seemed to hit it off well.

  Butler wondered why the chief would meet with them personally.

  “I hope I haven’t screwed up already. I’d like to get through the first day, at least, before I get fired.”

  This time Scott laughed.

  “Don’t worry. If you were in trouble, the chief would have asked to meet, and then said, “And bring that damn rookie with you.”

  Scott pulled into the parking lot of what used to be a bustling supermarket. The cars in the parking lot were covered with dust now, abandoned since the blackout. In all probability none of them would ever run again.

  Several of the car part manufacturers and battery manufacturers were making parts now to get some of the vehicles running again. But the plants were located up north, mostly in northern Ohio and southern Michigan.

  And they were taking care of their own first.

  Very few parts were making their way southwest into Texas.

  He fully expected these cars to sit in the parking lot until they slowly rotted away to rusty dust.

  He parked in the far end of the lot. It was the part of the lot the shoppers had avoided except on busy Fridays and the first day of the month, when there was no better place to park.

  He was there for only a couple of minutes when Chief Martinez pulled into the lot, spotted Scott’s unit, and pulled alongside him.

  “Good afternoon, Scott. How are you doing?”

  “Hi, chief. I’m doing okay. Thank you.”

  The old man nodded in Butler’s direction.

  “How’s the rookie holding up?”

  “He’s doing good so far, but it’s been a slow day. He spent his morning getting the grand tour of the district and meeting some of the block leaders he’ll be dealing with. The real test will be this afternoon. We’re headed over to Green Plain Drive to sweep through it for bodies.”

  The chief looked at Butler.

  “Did they warn you what you’re in for, son?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m not looking forward to it, but I’ll be okay.”

  “Good. If you have to step outside and vomit a couple of times at first, do it and don’t feel bad about it. Every one of my officers has lost their lunch a time or two, no matter how many lie and say they haven’t.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He turned back to Scott.

  “Scott, the reason I wanted to meet with you was because John explained the situation up at your place. I wanted to express my condolences for your loss. If you need some more time off, or if there’s anything else I can do personally, you just say the word.”

  “Thank you, chief. I appreciate it. Right now I just need to work and try to keep my mind busy. I’ll be okay.”

  “I understand your boys and grandson are still up there. I admire your decision to come back and help us out some more.”

  “To be honest, chief, I thought about staying up there and not coming back. But being close to them without being able to touch them was maddeningly painful. And besides, I promised you six months ago I’d stay until the plague dissipated.

  “And I always keep my promises.”

  “Good for you, Scott. And that’s the other reason I wanted to talk to you one on one.

  “I attended a meeting the other day with the mayor and the city council. One of the topics of discussion was the plague.

  “The regional representative from the CDC was there and gave the mayor an update on the situation.

  “He said the numbers of new cases being reported in Bexar County are down considerably this month. The hospitals are reporting only three or four cases per day, as opposed to seven or eight cases per day just two months ago. If the trend continues, they say they’ll be able to switch from condition red back to orange within sixty to ninety days.”

  “What does that mean in non-CDC terms?”

  “Condition orange means they think they’ve eradicated the plague. They still won’t issue the all-clear, though, until we go thirty consecutive days without a new case being reported.”

  “So I could be going home in as little as ninety days?”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. That would be the best case scenario. But, yes.”

  Scott smiled broadly.

  “Thanks for the good news, chief. And I’m glad you came by for a chat. I’ve got something for you.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Scott reached over to the glove box and took out a zip lock bag, wrapped in aluminum foil. He handed it through the window to Martinez.

  Martinez, puzzled, said, “I’m almost afraid to ask. But what is it?”

  “It’s a pound of beef jerky. John told me how you’re addicted to the stuff, and how you’ve been eating the stale stuff off the grocery store shelves that’s two years old. I told my friend Tom, and he made that for you. From a steer he slaughtered about two weeks ago.”

  “Well I’ll be damned. You can’t get jerky much fresher than that, can you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, Scott, here’s the thing. Department policy expressly prohibits me from accepting any gifts from any of my officers. So it’s a good thing you didn’t give this to me, and that I just happened to find it in the parking lot after you drove off.”

  “Yes, sir. Good thing that happened. I guess today must be your lucky day.”

  Chief Martinez smiled broadly.

  “Yep. I guess so.”

  “Chief, one more question about the plague. Is there anything we can do to get that “all clear” any sooner?”

  “I asked the CDC guy specifically that. He said just continue to do what we’ve been doing, and finding and burning those bodies.

  “He said that now that the word is out, it’s n
ot being spread so much by human to human contact anymore. All the people know about it now, and the ones who have been exposed are doing a pretty good job about staying clear of those who haven’t.

  “He said these days, most of the new cases are coming from mosquito bites. Mosquitoes feed off the infected corpses and then carry the disease to whoever they bite after that.

  “So as soon as we can find and destroy the rest of the corpses, the sooner we can eradicate that problem.”

  “We’ll damn sure do our part.”

  “You better get your rookie over to start that collection detail. Wouldn’t want him to think you just sit around all day in the parking lot and shoot the bull with your chief.”

  “No sir. Wouldn’t want that.”

  “Y’all be careful out there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chief Martinez drove off, but wasn’t even out of the parking lot before he was breaking into the package and taking out a big chunk of jerky to gnaw on.

  Scott asked Rhett, “You ready for this?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

  -24-

  The new partners drove to Green Plain Drive, where they parked in front of the first house which didn’t have a big green checkmark painted on the front.

  It was the SAPD’s method for keeping track of which houses had already been checked over the previous months. A green check meant that at some point, an officer had physically walked through every room in the house, the garage, and the back yard. And that either no bodies were found, or they had been removed and burned.

  House number 2405 had the mark. House 2407 didn’t. So this was where they’d start their systematic search on this day.

  Scott keyed the microphone on his shoulder clipped radio.

  “Charlie Four Six to dispatch.”

  “Go ahead, Charlie Four Six.”

  “Show us out of the unit and performing a sweep. 2407 Green Plain Drive, moving west.”

  “10-4, 2407 Green Plain Drive, moving west.”

  Scott opened the trunk and handed the rookie a jar of Vick’s Vapor Rub.

  “Put some of this under your nose. It’ll burn a little at first, but it’ll cover up most of the smell.”

  He handed him a surgical mask, and a pair of latex gloves as well.

  “Why the mask? We’ve both been exposed and identified as possible carriers.”

  “I know. We’re not concerned so much about infection anymore. But the mask will help keep the vapor rub on your face, so you don’t sweat it away. It’s pretty hot in some of these houses. And whatever stench the rub doesn’t take care of, the mask will.

  “And these,” he said, holding up the latex gloves, “are just to protect yourself from the ‘yuck’ factor. You’ll be lifting bodies that have been decomposing for months. Without these, you’d be getting all kinds of disgusting stuff on your bare hands. And that’s not good.”

  Rhett didn’t argue.

  Once they were masked and gloved, Scott took two cans of fluorescent green spray paint and they approached the residence at 2407.

  Scott called out in a loud voice.

  “Hello in the house!”

  There was no answer.

  He took his nightstick and rapped on the door several times.

  He looked at Rhett and explained.

  “Never barge in unless you’re sure the house is empty. Sometimes the survivors are afraid to open the doors to strangers. They may think we’re looters or bandits. If you go barging in before convincing them that we’re the good guys, they might start shooting.”

  He rapped again.

  “Hello in the house. We are the police. We mean you no harm. If there is someone in the house, please tell us before we enter.”

  He listened and heard nothing but silence.

  Then he recited the phrase in Spanish, taught to him by one of the Spanish officers.

  “Somos la policía. No queremos hacerte daño. Si hay alguien en la casa, por favor díganos ahora.”

  Again, nothing. He felt confident enough to make entry. The door was locked. He put a shoulder into it once, twice, three times.

  The third time was the charm.

  They walked through the house, room by room. They didn’t smell any decaying bodies. That was a good sign, but they performed a thorough search anyway.

  From the looks of the house, it was obvious it had been looted. But it hadn’t been lived in for a very long time. Probably not since the blackout.

  Finally, satisfied there were no bodies, they left the house and painted a large checkmark on the front door.

  Then they moved on.

  “Someone lives here,” Scott observed.

  “How can you tell?”

  “The windows are clean. In the other house they were so dusty and grimy you couldn’t even see through them. The windows are a dead giveaway, even when the yard is grown over with weeds and high grass.”

  He yelled, “Hello in the house!”

  Sure enough, after a few seconds came the plaintive cry, “We’re well armed. What do you want?”

  “We’re the police. We’re just checking up on you to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Well, we’re okay. Leave us in peace.”

  “Do you have any dead bodies that need to be disposed of?”

  “No.”

  “Very well. We’ll leave you then.”

  The men turned to leave, when the voice cried out again.

  “Hey, police!”

  Scott stopped and said, “Yes, sir?”

  “Look next door. 2411. They’re all dead. Shot themselves months ago.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Even without the neighbor’s tip, it wouldn’t have taken long for the pair to have discovered the bodies. Though it had been months, the smell of lingering death penetrated their nostrils even through the smell of the rub and despite the mask that covered them.

  As they walked into the house, Rhett made a point to look at the front window.

  Just as Scott had said, these windows were dirty and dusty, and not even transparent anymore.

  Apparently survivors placed great stock in being able to see who was approaching their homes.

  The dead, on the other hand, had no need to.

  -25-

  The bodies were so badly decomposed it was no longer possible to identify the men from the women, the boys from the girls, except for the clothing. That, and the long blonde hair of one of the children, who appeared to be a girl of about seven.

  The skulls were still intact. Whatever had killed them, they weren’t shot in the head. That had been the choice of death for most who could no longer take it in previous months.

  They might have been shot in the heart by their parents, who then did the same to themselves. But even that couldn’t be determined by looking at the bodies.

  There were no weapons present, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. The door had been forced open long before they got there, and looters had already ransacked the place.

  Someone, perhaps even the man next door who provided the tip, had torn through the kitchen and taken anything capable of being eaten or bartered. Guns were easy to barter, and that would be one of the first things the looter would take.

  In the end, it didn’t really matter. Chances were, the children were the victims of mercy killing by their parents, who then committed suicide. And even if the parents were still alive to stand trial, there were no homicide detectives to investigate the case and arrest them. There was no legal system to try them. And in all likelihood, no jury would have convicted them anyway. Not for killing their kids who likely were dying from the plague or from starvation.

  So there was no report to write. There were no arrests to make. All that was left to do was to collect the bodies and dispose of them.

  The body dressed in men’s clothes, who they presumed to be the father, was closest to the doorway. So they started with him.

  His body was almost mummified. They’
d died in the dry weather months, cooped up in a house where temperatures probably reached a hundred and twenty degrees at times. The moisture from the body evaporated over time, turning the skin into leather.

  Rhett grabbed the man’s hands and proceeded to drag him out the door.

  Scott could have called out to Rhett, to warn him of what was about to happen. But sometimes the best way to teach someone is just to let them try the first method that comes to mind and then fail at it.

  It’s a guaranteed way to ensure that method will never be tried again.

  So Scott merely stood back and watched. Rhett dragged the man about fifteen feet toward the door before the man’s arms, first the left and then the right, simply broke away from the body.

  Rhett stood upright and looked at Scott. In his right hand was one arm, separated at the elbow.

  In his left hand was the other arm, separated at the shoulder.

  Scott tried not to chuckle, but even through Rhett’s mask he could see the puzzled look that said, “Okay, now what?”

  Scott said, “Go ahead and lay those in the street. When you get back, I’ll show you a much better way.”

  When Rhett returned a minute later, Scott showed him how to grab the shoulders of the man’s shirt, and use it to drag the body.

  “The clothing is usually stronger than the decomposed body. It won’t tear away as quickly.”

  Sure enough, by grabbing the man’s shirt and pulling, he was able to drag the body all the way to the street without any further mishap.

  Next closest to the door was a small child of about three. Scott took a sheet from the linen closet and wrapped her in it. Rhett followed Scott’s lead with the girl with long blonde hair, and they carried the two children out to the street.

  They very gently laid them on the street, on top of their father. For some reason, Scott felt that carrying child victims was much more dignified than dragging them.

  Rhett was a fast learner. He grabbed the shirt of a boy of about sixteen and dragged him out. Then he returned to help Scott with the last of the victims, presumably the mother.

  The mother, inexplicably, was naked. Rhett gave Scott a puzzled look. Scott just shrugged and said, “I don’t know, but I’ve seen it before. Maybe she was bathing or changing when he killed the children and came rushing out to stop it. Or maybe some sick bastard heard the shots and came in to steal the gun, and wanted to see her naked. I gave up wondering about things like this the second or third day on the job. You will too. Let’s just focus on getting them out there.