by SD Tanner
He had no idea what condition the base was in, and could only assume if no military had been deployed then it wasn’t good. It was very possible the command structure had collapsed to such an extent there would be no one there he could deploy. In the end, he made a purely emotional decision, and it was Jo who was trapped in the precinct alone, waiting for him to help her leave. The internet wasn’t working, so he was relying on his memory of the city maps. He estimated he was about ten miles from the precinct, and decided he could cover the distance easier on foot. Strapped to his back was a pack filled with ammo, batteries, water and food. He hadn’t been sure what he’d find topside, but based on Jo’s advice, he was carrying an M4A1, two handguns and a KABAR.
The region outside of the bunker was made up of wide roads, light industrial buildings and clusters of private residences. If he travelled the side streets, he expected there were more homes with the usual schools, churches and shops. He wasn’t interested in the area, and tried to visualize the fastest route on foot to the precinct. Since he’d emerged from the concealed secondary entrance to the bunker, he hadn’t heard much of anything. As he walked right onto the I-40 that should lead him in the direction of the precinct, he was surprised to hear a vehicle heading towards him.
Unsure of the situation, he ducked behind an abandoned vehicle, crouched low and peered over the trunk. The road was straight and six lanes wide, but it was cluttered with abandoned and crashed cars. He didn’t really understand where all the people had gone, and assumed they’d either left, or were hiding in the surrounding buildings. There was broken glass all over the road, and the vehicle he was hiding behind had bullet holes punched along the side. Wearing his fatigues and army boots, he was grateful for his knee and shin protectors.
The car he’d heard was travelling slowly down the road, clearly trying to navigate around the vehicles spread across it. When it finally came into view, it turned out to be a GMC Yukon. The driver wasn’t visible behind the tinted windshield, and the car had large dents down the side. He tried to decide whether to flag the car down, or to let it pass without revealing himself. In the end, he procrastinated long enough for the car to drive slowly past him, and caught sight of the driver in the side window. The man was huge, with a shaved head and facial tattoos that reached to his collar. There were several more men in the back of the car holding long-nosed guns. Recognizing their type, he believed he could have defended himself, but it wasn’t worth the fight.
Once the car had passed, he stood and continued at a steady clip towards the taller buildings at the center of the city. The closer he got the more obvious it became just how far the city had fallen, and he lost count of the number of broken bodies he passed. They’d taken on the ashen color of the dead, many were covered in flies, and some looked as if they’d already been mauled by animals. Being so close to the center of the city, he assumed there must be packs of dogs already running wild. Shop fronts and the glassed entrances to office buildings were smashed, or filled with holes surrounded by shattered glass. Firefights had clearly taken place, and he wondered where the victors were. Passing by a small deli, he peered into the darkened interior. The shelves were half-empty and crushed products were scattered across the floor. He noticed some food was left on the shelves, but that wasn’t a good sign. If people were hiding in the buildings, they should have raided the shop and stripped it bare of any supplies.
The smell of smoke was lingering in the air, and he tried to locate any still burning fires. Nothing was visible, but the buildings around him were taller and the skyline was disappearing. What worried him the most was the silence. The wind was blowing down the narrower roads of the city, and paper and other litter was rustling in the breeze, but there were no sounds of vehicles or people. The city had shut down, and other than him, no one was moving on the streets. The number of pale and dusty looking corpses littering the roads was growing. Some were so badly damaged it was hard to tell whether he was looking at a man or a woman, and it was the bodies of the children that clutched at his gut. The streets were becoming more congested with corpses than cars, and he wondered just how many more bodies he’d find inside the buildings. Jo’s anger with the men and women in the bunker made more sense to him now, and he pressed on, anxious to find her.
As he passed what appeared to be an office building, a low whistle caught his attention. Stopping, he trained his weapon at the narrow alleyway between the buildings. The whistle stopped abruptly and he called, “Identify yourself.”
“Put your gun down. I’m human.”
The man’s answer puzzled him, but using the wall for cover, he continued to train his gun in the direction the voice came from. “What does that mean?”
“Are you the army?”
He had no intention of telling the man he was alone and said sternly, “You didn’t answer my question.”
In the shadow of the alley, a man stood up from inside a large dumpster. His face was so filthy he couldn’t tell how old the man was, only that he was tall and leanly built.
“What are you doing in the dumpster?”
The man hadn’t moved, but said in a low voice, “Shh, you’ll wake them up.”
“Wake who up?”
“The aliens.”
Recalling Jo’s description of the killers, he asked, “You mean the rubbery, black creatures?”
Flicking his hand to indicate he should move closer to him, the man replied impatiently, “Yes, yes, where have you been?”
Walking across to the man, he looked up at him still standing inside the large dumpster. “Why are you in the trash?”
“It’s safer here.”
“Safer than where?”
“Than being on the street or in the buildings.”
“Why aren’t the buildings safe?”
The man’s face was creased with grime, and his filthy eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Because that’s where they came from. They’re still in there killing anyone they can find. You can’t stay in the buildings. It isn’t safe.”
“But you can’t be on the streets either?”
Grinning with satisfaction, the man replied, “That’s why I’m in the trash.”
The guy was clearly off his meds and he shook his head. “You need to get out of the city and head for Kirtland Air Force Base.”
“No way. I’d never make it out alive. I know where to hide on the streets. I ain’t leaving.”
Comprehension was slowly dawning on him and he asked, “Is this where you live? On the streets?”
The man nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I lost my apartment when I lost my job. I lived in my car for a while, but it broke. Now I live on the streets.”
“Did you see what happened?”
He nodded again. “Oh, yes. People were shooting at one another, but it didn’t do them any good. You can’t shoot an alien. They just kept attacking until the people died.”
“Why do you think they’re aliens?”
Giving him a look of disbelief, he replied, “Because they look like aliens.”
“What do they look like?”
“Black with smooth faces and no eyes. Hands like thin claws.” The man held up his own filth encrusted hands as if they were talons.
“Do they talk?”
“No, no, no. They screech like a hawk with prey, only they don’t eat their victims, they just kill them.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “It makes you wonder why they kill them.”
“Where are they now?”
The man shrugged dismissively. “Some left. Some are still here.” Narrowing his eyes, he said knowingly, “Nowhere is safe.”
The man had witnessed the fall of the city and survived, and despite his apparent insanity, there was a reasonable chance he knew what he was talking about. “Have you seen any military?”
With a sharp barking laugh, which he immediately muffled by putting his dirty hand over his mouth, he whispered hoarsely, “You. I’ve seen you.”
“And no one else in uniform?�
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The man shook his head, and then turned and pulled the metal lid slowly down over his head. “Go away. You can’t save us.”
He was still over five miles from where he should find the precinct. The man hadn’t told him much more than he already knew, but he was now confident he’d made the right decision to find Jo. Nowhere was safe, not the base, not the precinct and not the streets. According to the man in the dumpster, bullets didn’t kill the creatures these people had become. There was no military presence in the city. Hundreds of thousands of people were dead. He couldn’t leave Jo trapped in the precinct, and he set off at a steady pace.
The precinct was a good distance from the center of the city, and the further he travelled the flatter and less congested the area became. He trailed along Coors Boulevard, which was a six-lane highway with malls, shops and car yards on either side. In the distance on his right were low mountains, and it was eerily quiet. The wide road was jammed with vehicles, and many had large pools of blood inside them. The parking lots at each mall were half-empty, and he wondered if anyone was hiding inside them. If he hadn’t been alone he might have stopped to investigate, but as it was there was nothing he could do to help anyone even if he found them.
While he trotted as quietly as he could along the road, he noticed black bodies dotted across one of the emptier parking lots. Behind the bodies was a two-story mall with a small entrance leading inside. Wanting to see his new enemy up close, he jogged to the right and across the scrubby border into the parking lot. The black body closest to him was wearing jeans, but the upper torso was black and half its head was missing. Quickly glancing around the area, and seeing no movement, he ran at a low crouch towards the prone body. Dropping to one knee, he peered curiously at the corpse.
Not wanting to touch the creature, although he was wearing assault gloves, he pulled his KABAR from his belt, and prodded at its exposed abdomen with the tip of his blade. The remaining flesh around blackened area was drained of blood, and was mostly skin and hardened fat. When he scraped the knife under it, it easily lifted away, exposing more of the blackened rubber. Scanning along the body, his eyes rested on its head. Something had blasted away half the face and skull, and the interior of its head was exposed. At first glance it looked as if it was a solid lump of black rubber, but he jabbed at the center with his blade, and it slid inside a softer mass. Now leaning closer, he continued to dig into the softer tissue, fascinated by the change in texture. It appeared, deep inside the core of what had once been the brain, was a tiny softer area made of a reddish tissue. If this was all that was left of the brain, then it would explain why the headshot had killed it. With its tiny brain buried so deeply inside the hard rubber, it would be a tough shot to make. He wanted to confirm his assessment, and looked around the parking lot for another body with a head wound. Finally standing up again, he was scanning the area when a low whistle caught his attention. The sound was coming from above him, and he looked up with his gun trained on the roofline.
A man’s head appeared over the top of the roof and he waved. “Are you the army?” The man asked in a low voice.
In the silence around him, the man’s voice travelled clearly, and he noticed the long nose of a rifle against the ledge of the roof. Judging by the number of corpses in the parking lot, the guy was a decent shot, and if he wanted to he could shoot him where he stood.
“No, I’m heading to the precinct.”
“There’s no one there.”
“How do you know that?”
“I been over there and it was empty. No cars, no nothin’.”
“The Commander was there four hours ago.”
The man stood higher on the roof. “I didn’t go inside. It ain’t safe in the buildings.”
“I heard it’s not safe outside either.”
“Yep, it’s a bit fucked all round.”
“Did you see what happened?”
“People went nuts and started killin’ one another. I got me some ammo and been up here ever since.”
He glanced around the parking lot at the vehicles and then back at the man. “You should take one of these cars and head to Kirtland Air Force Base. People have been told to go there. They’ve got the weapons and equipment to protect you.”
Sniffing derisively, the man looked across the horizon. “Nah, I don’t think so. I got enough ammo and shit up here. I’ll wait ‘em out.”
“What makes you think they’re going to leave?”
The man shrugged his lean shoulders. “Makes sense, don’t it. Once they’ve killed everyone they can find, they’ll fuck off. What would they hang around for? I’ve already seen a bunch of ‘em leavin’.”
“Where’d they go?”
“Dunno. They was headin’ west.”
He’d offered the man the only option he had, but he didn’t want any help, and nodding brusquely at him, he said, “Okay. Good luck.”
Giving him a quick nod in return, the man slowly sunk below the roofline again. In his brief tour of the city, he already knew more than they’d known in the bunker. The situation was perilous, and people were desperately trying to survive in any way they could. Although the creatures had started as human, they’d clearly evolved into something very different. They were hard to kill, and it would take a talented marksman with a high caliber weapon to put them down. He doubted that anyone other than his most highly trained troops could make that shot with any confidence.
When he finally arrived outside the building, the name of the precinct was engraved over the large double doors. The street outside of the office was strewn with cars and corpses, but he’d grown used to the sight now and it failed to shock him. Judging by the congestion of crashed and abandoned cars, they would have to make their way out by foot. There was no way they could drive, and it made him wonder how they could transport a group of sick children out of the hospital.
Making his way up the concrete steps, he cautiously poked the nose of his M4A1 through the door. The blow against the back of his tactical vest caught him by surprise. Something was clinging to his back, and he instinctively slammed himself against the side of the door. Whatever was hanging onto him was forced from his back, and he swung around firing wildly as he did. He might have seen the dead creatures in the parking lot, but the thing confronting him was nothing like he expected. It was missing half its face, but judging by the long hair on one side, he assumed it was once a woman. Wearing blood drenched jeans, one track shoe, and missing its shirt, chunks of human flesh hung loosely from what was now a rubbery, black torso.
He was firing continuously at her head, but he was only managing to push the woman back down the steps. Movement caught his attention, and more half-human people were running towards him. If he couldn’t kill this woman by firing directly at her, then he didn’t rate his chances at being able to stop the others. Stepping backwards towards the still open door, he was caught by surprise again by something dragging him through the gap.
“Shut the damned door!”
Allowing his weapon to fall against the sling on his side, he helped the dark-haired woman heave the glass door closed. Hard, black bodies began throwing themselves against the glass, and he worried it could break. The woman slid a bar across the metal handles on the door, grabbed his arm, and began to run down the corridor in her stockinged feet.
“C’mon! We gotta go!”
Following her down the corridor, he shouted, “I’m Bill.”
“I guessed,” she panted.
Skidding on the marble floor, she dove into a doorway and scooted over a wide counter. Moving awkwardly in his combat gear and pack, he followed her, and then saw where she was leading them. The precinct armory had their weapons stored behind a thick chain link metal barrier. There were no weapons left, but boxes of ammo were still scattered across the metal shelves.
“That’s not a good idea. We’ll be trapped.”
Throwing herself through the door of the fenced wall, she shouted, “We’re trapped anyway! It’s t
his or die.”
He wasn’t sure he agreed with her summary of their situation, but he didn’t know where else to run. Following her into the large armory filled with shelving, he slammed the door closed behind them.
“Now what?” He asked.
Pulling him deeper into the empty armory, she replied, “We wait. If we’re lucky they won’t find us.” To his surprise, her face then broke into a wide smile, and she stuck out her hand. “Hi Bill, I’m Jo.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Witch under the bed (Dayton)
He’d left the six children with the woman he’d met on the oncology ward. Her name was Rosa and she worked for one of the pharmaceutical suppliers. She’d been on one of her routine visits promoting their drugs when the hospital had erupted into violence. Typical of a drug rep, she was immaculately dressed and groomed, but after hiding in the ceiling and then racing down the corridor with him, her hair was disheveled and her clothes were filthy and torn. Despite their dire situation, it amused him to see one of their usually perfect dealers looking worse for wear. The woman didn’t seem to have an ounce of maternal instinct, and he was equally entertained watching her try and cope with six children. All of the kids suffered from long-term illnesses, which made them resilient, and he thought they were coping better than Rosa.
It had been six hours since he’d managed to talk to the woman at the precinct. She’d promised help was on its way, but no one had shown up, and the kids were thirsty and hungry. Since they’d found them in one of the wards, they’d managed to get them downstairs and had planned to leave the building. At the time it had been daylight and the hospital generators were still working, but now both had failed them. Hoping to get the kids some food and water, he was sneaking along the corridor outside the dispensary.