by Flacco, Jack
He didn’t have to wait long.
The kids viewing the monitor could see the leader of the group reach for the access panel. A buzzer sounded inside the silo. Silver gulped while Sunglow’s eyes never left the glass. Matty first detected the weapons and knew the visitors didn’t have anything other than bad intentions on their mind. Her breath turned shallow hoping it would stem the panic that gripped her. She had a few ideas where the truck came from, but would leave speculation until later, once Ranger resolved the problem.
Another buzz, but this time it startled Silver into walking away from the monitor to pace the floor several feet behind everyone. He didn’t know what Ranger and his friends had brought to the silo. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to be there to find out. If the strangers attempted to break in, their lives would turn miserable. He knew that much.
A few minutes passed and the three soldiers huddled outside the gate. Their gestures toward the fence didn’t faze Ranger whose gaze didn’t leave the monitor. If anything, he became more engrossed at what was happening outside. He wasn’t about to make a mess of things by not following through. Not this time, anyway. He had learned in the past that giving a chance to someone would one day cost him trouble in the future. He wasn’t about to let that happen again. He would make sure of that.
After they broke from their meeting, the two soldiers that had exited the dump truck from the passenger seat each positioned themselves in front of the fence—one by the gate and the other right next to him. The driver, who appeared giving orders to the others, stood well back and closer to the truck.
Ranger’s stare turned cold as he pursed his lips. The military wanted their property back. At least that was what he thought. They wanted their property and they were about to scale the fence to do it. On occasion, Matty took the liberty to grab Randy’s hand. Not this time. Instead, she moved closer to Ranger and nudged against him, as would a daughter seeking comfort from her father. Jon did the same, but he scrunched against Matty. They knew what would happen if the soldiers scaled the fence. The military would try to break into the silo and quickly sanitize the place of visitors.
They were right. The two soldiers jumped the fence and began to scale it one hand after another, one foot after another, until they reached the other side.
Mark looked at his friends while they tried to understand the implications of a breach, but Ranger had all he could do to keep it together. He edged his hand on the knob Jon had pointed to earlier. The closer to the top the soldiers got, the closer Ranger drew to the monitor. His hand never left the knob. He began to breathe heavier and heavier.
Without a word, Matty placed her hand on Ranger’s and whispered, “Don’t.” It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t soft. It was a simple, “don’t.” She knew what the knob was for. She didn’t need instructions. She had seen its use in the days they needed absolute protection and needed to feel safe. She also said it because once Ranger crossed the line; he wouldn’t have been able to come back from it. He would have been a changed man. “Don’t” meant more than any of the others knew.
As the soldiers climbed, Ranger’s nose flared in an attempt to take in more oxygen to calm his frayed nerves.
Matty kept Ranger’s well-worn hand covered with hers. The desire to keep him safe drove her to squeeze it. She did this until she tucked both her hands in her pockets and walked away. She couldn’t bear to watch Ranger commit the mistake of a lifetime.
It would change everything.
When the soldiers climbed to the top, the camera caught a glimpse of one of them smiling in satisfaction for their early victory. If they could reach the top, they thought, they could do anything they wanted.
His eyes steady on the monitor, Ranger flipped the knob a notch higher. A yellow light illuminated the top of his hand. All he had to do was flip it one more notch. Other than Matty, Randy and Jon, no one else knew what the switch could do, although they had a good idea it wouldn’t be good for the soldiers.
Not easing on the knob, Ranger began to sweat. He then gulped. With his free hand, he wiped his eyes and tried to focus. The blurriness in his vision wouldn’t leave him. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding. It wanted to tear open through his chest cavity. His hand started to tremble. If he didn’t act soon, he’d have more than a simple team of military on his butt. He’d have his conscience to deal with. He wasn’t about to let that happen.
Once the soldiers began their descent from the other side of the fence, Ranger pulled his hand from the knob. He couldn’t bring himself to turn it one more notch. He had never killed another human before.
Silver stared at the monitor then stared at Ranger. Anger clenched his gut and burned through his bones. He thought Ranger was a coward, through and through.
It didn’t take the teen long. He shoved past Ranger to the console and flicked the knob until the yellow light turned red.
“No! Don’t!” Matty pushed Silver from the console then gazed at the monitor to watch the results to Silver’s thoughtlessness.
* * *
A surge of electricity poured through the fence and stung the two soldiers, throwing them from their perch to the hard ground behind them. The driver saw what had happened from the other side of the fence, and shock strangled the words he could have spoken to his friends, which he thought could have saved them. His lips could only muster shapes, but none of the sounds came out. He stared at them for a long while before his senses brought him back to reality.
The nametag on his dirty uniform said Smith, and the stripes on his arm said he had once attained the rank of major. Major Smith suddenly felt the need to leave. He thought, if those inside could fry his friends without guilt, he would be as good as dead. His feet pushed him into the dump truck.
Inside, he started the ignition, shifted the truck in reverse and turned the vehicle around to make an escape. As his truck moved further and further away from the silo, and further and further into the night, he noticed from the side mirror how the lights of the silo had shut. Whoever lived in the complex probably had forgotten the lights were on. That was after all what had attracted him and his friends to investigate it. With that fixed, the worry on his mind had more to do with leaving with his life than anything else. He pressed the gas and didn’t slow his pace through the desert.
Five minutes later, taking a breath and relaxing his hands on his wheel, Major Smith thought he didn’t have anything else to worry about. He had lost his friends, but he had escaped with his life. When he looked at his side mirror again, lights appeared in the distance behind him. They grew larger as he pressed the gas forward.
Panic seized him and he pressed the gas pedal to the floor. Whoever was chasing him, wouldn’t gain the satisfaction of catching him. He would have rather died than to fall into the hands of strangers. He didn’t know what they’d do to him.
* * *
Ranger followed the dump truck alone. The more pressure he placed on the pedal, the further the truck vanished into the distance.
The night was thick. Ranger’s headlights paved the way ahead for a short time before the dump truck’s break lights disappeared into the darkness. He didn’t panic. He headed to where he thought he saw the last traces of the vehicle vanish into the distance.
As he travelled, a few things went through his mind. Where did the soldiers come from? Had they followed Ranger and the kids to the silo? Had they radioed the location of the silo to friends or were they acting alone? Then, he allowed the most awful thought to hit him—if the soldier escaped, and didn’t have a radio, and didn’t work alone, then he’d have to stop him at all costs. Killing a man was not an option for him. He had killed zombies without remorse. The undead lacked life. To kill a man, though, meant stepping to the other side and becoming like one of the undead. He didn’t have it in him. He’d proven that back at the silo when he couldn’t flip the knob to the electrified fence and taken the lives of the two soldiers who had posed a threat to him and the kids.
A short time later, Range
r’s truck came upon a ditch in the desert. Hidden from view until the truck’s lights hit the site, Ranger slowed his vehicle to investigate if the dump truck had stopped there earlier. If he didn’t slow down, he surely would have flipped his truck.
The vehicle stopped and Ranger slipped from the driver’s seat. He left the lights on at the edge of the ditch hoping to find a way around so he could continue on his way without losing time.
When he peeked over the edge into the ditch, he spotted his trophy. Below in the darkness, the dump truck had toppled over. Its wheels stopped turning just as Ranger had arrived. Pulling his shotgun from its holster, he studied the path to the metal beast’s grave. Had there been a dinosaur running on a rampage, the truck would have looked the same way—broken in pieces, tossed about like a toy, and its belly leaking its blood into the dirt.
A few seconds was all it took for Ranger to decide his place belonged in the ditch. He knew he needed to find the driver. Leaping from the edge to the side of the narrow gully, where he thought he would have been safe, he followed the path created by the lights of his truck overhead. He pressed his left hand on the rock while he negotiated the twists and turns to the broken vehicle.
The evening was warm, and the gentle glow of Ranger’s truck would have otherwise made for a quiet evening of reflection. Instead, when he arrived at the resting place of the accident, he flattened his shoulders on the side of the dump truck, keeping his attention fixed at the cab. He expected the driver to appear any moment from his hiding place.
As he drew closer to the cab, Ranger heard groaning. He recognized the sound and didn’t think anything of someone suffering in agony. Zombies made that sound, too. Yet, he didn’t think he had to contend with one of the gut-suckers. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have slid his shotgun into its holster soon after catching a glimpse of the occupant in the cab.
“Help me.” Major Smith said between coughs. “Help me, please.”
“Are you armed?” Ranger asked, “Throw your gun where I can see it.”
“I can’t.” A gurgling noise came from Smith, “Please. Help me.”
Ranger slowly peered into the cab to examine Major Smith’s condition. He noticed the Major’s weapon on the roof of the overturned dump truck. Then he saw Major Smith’s chest pinned by the steering wheel that had torn apart from the chassis and had fallen on him. Smith was spitting blood, attempting to raise his chest above the wheel in order to get more air into his lungs. The further he sank behind the steering wheel, the more he gurgled, drowning in his own fluids.
“Help me. Please don’t leave me this way.”
Ranger pulled his head from the cab and stared at the stars above wondering what to do. He just couldn’t leave him; his conscience wouldn’t forgive him. The military was his enemy.
“Please.” Smith coughed through a partial rendering of the word then lifted himself to gather air above the wheel. “Please.”
It took Ranger a few seconds to think through the scene before he had decided to slip into the cab, grab Smith’s gun and toss it outside. He quickly examined the steering wheel, looking for a way to anchor it in order to relieve the pressure from Smith’s chest. He pulled it hard, but that caused Smith to cough and spit more.
There wasn’t much Ranger could do but wait, which made it awkward, considering everything in his being said to leave the soldier to die of his injuries. Something kept him from debasing himself to the level of an animal. Morals. Honor. Perhaps a sense of humanity.
Smith knew Ranger was staying with him out of decency. Nothing else made any sense to him why he’d stay otherwise. He said. “I have something to tell you.”
“Don’t talk.” Ranger said. “Save your strength.”
“There’s a place out in California.” More coughing. “It’s a refuge from the changed. We needed supplies before heading there. That’s why we came to the silo. We thought our boys still owned it.”
Wiping the soldier’s mouth of the blood with a rag that was dangling from the dashboard, Ranger threw the used cloth out the window next to where the gun rested in the sand.
“The glove compartment has a map. Take it out. You’ll find directions to the San Francisco Bay area. I’ve circled it.” Smith took a breath and tried to raise himself from his corner behind the wheel. “If you make it, you won’t have to worry about fighting anymore. They’re armed and they’ll take anyone who makes it to their gate. They haven’t turned away anyone yet.”
A slight smile flashed across Ranger’s face. “What’s the catch?”
Major Smith pulled himself forward and coughed again. “No catch. You’ll have to make it there. The largest undead horde that anyone’s ever seen surrounds the city. You’ll have to break through them, and make your way into the city. That’s all you have to do.”
“What about the military? You don’t think I’d be stupid enough to get close to a military zone do you?”
“The military?” Smith smiled. “There is no military there. Everyone’s the same”
“What about the horde? Where did they come from?”
Smith spat a mouthful of blood and breathed his last, leaving Ranger to think of what the soldier said before he died.
“Hey. Hey!” Ranger shook him.
Smith slumped over.
Minutes later, Ranger rifled through Smith’s belongings in the glove compartment and found the map. Just as Smith said, he found the markings and the directions to the San Francisco Bay area.
The heading for the directions said: “Paradise.”
Chapter 5
The next morning, Ranger, who had been awake all night nursing a cup of coffee, sat at the kitchen table studying the map Major Smith had surrendered to him. He had gone over the directions repeatedly. He had marked the route without deviation. All he could do was sip the steamy java while he tried to make sense of the whole thing.
Mark stomped down the stairs first. He pressed his hand to the back or his head as he drifted to the kitchen where Ranger sat quietly. The first thing on his mind was coffee to relieve the throbbing. His nostrils swam in the smell of the comforting brew. All he needed was a good jolt to his system.
Memories of the night before flashed through his mind. He remembered what had happened to the two soldiers when Ranger had left the silo to pursue Major Smith. He remembered how he and the others appeared at the elevator to see how the electrified fence had reduced the soldiers to a pile of charred waste. He remembered the fight that had broken out between Silver and Randy, and how Randy accused Silver of murdering the soldiers in cold blood. He remembered how Randy jumped Silver while Matty and Sunglow held each other by the lapels prepping for a fight of their own. He couldn’t forget how he and Jon stepped into the middle of the fray trying to calm everyone down, explaining that the enemy lay before them in a huge pile of smoldering ash. And how could he forget how Jon pulled Matty from Sunglow just before Matty was about to slug her. Then there were the bodies. He could never shake the image of them scrapping the soldiers’ remains from the entrance of the elevator with shovels they had found from a storage unit adjacent to the silo.
Mark massaged his temples as the coffee brewed.
Easing further into his chair, Ranger glanced at the teen with the hope of talking with him about what had happened. He didn’t surrender his seat nor was he the first to start the conversation.
“What were you before this whole mess happened?” Mark asked, avoiding the events of the previous night.
“I was a truck driver. Tell me more about Silver.”
Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, Mark knew he couldn’t skip Ranger’s direct questions. He would try, though. “Were you married?”
“Silver. I need to understand if he’s gonna to put the group in jeopardy again like he did last night.”
“Just one minute.” Mark grabbed his cup from the machine and carried it to the table where Ranger was staring at him intently. “Who said anything about being a group? We’re on our own and this i
s now our silo. You can gather your belongings and leave once you and the others have had enough rest.”
“You don’t get it, do you? This place is marked territory now. I chased after that soldier, but I haven’t a clue if he called it in. For all I know in the next several hours, the military will be waitin’ for us outside and we’ll have nothin’ better to do than to either surrender or die defendin’ this place.”
“We’ll take our chances. Nothing you can say will change my mind in ever giving up this place to either you or anyone else wanting to get in. You don’t have any idea what it took us to get here otherwise you wouldn’t have said what you said.”
Ranger rose from his chair and walked up to the teen, then stood toe-to-toe, looking down at him without so much as a blink. “We’ve all lost someone. We’ve all done things we’d rather forget. Don’t stand there thinkin’ you’re the only one who’s been affected by this hell we’re livin’ in, kid. There’s a lot more to this than you’ll ever imagine. And there’s a lot more than you’d be willin’ to give up if the day comes when you have to make the decision to let go of somethin’ or someone you love.”
A creak on the metal stairs gave Jon and Matty away. Neither Ranger nor Mark knew they were listening. When Ranger saw them, he went back to the table and folded the map, then pushed it in his back pocket.
“You mean we have to leave?” Jon asked, and walked toward his hero as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Matty followed, letting her little brother do all the talking. She yawned and needed to wash before getting into another confrontation with the zombie killer.
“We have to.” Ranger said as he turned to the kid.
“I don’t get it. I thought we were safe. You said we’d be safe here.”
“That was until those soldiers showed up last night. We don’t know if anyone called it in. That was several hours ago. For all I know, they could be on their way right now.”