by Brown, TW
“Hey, you can’t just go walking around here,” the man said, hurrying back around to get in front of Vix.
“Listen, we have been on the road for days. The rain is coming and I would like to get inside before it soaks me. We aren’t staying long, just long enough to avoid this little storm and let those zeds find something new to get interested in, then we will be gone.”
With that, Vix brushed the man aside and continued for the door of the church. Gemma hurried to catch up, giving their masked “captor” a dirty look as she passed.
“Shame on you for pulling a gun on a pair of ladies,” she huffed.
As they reached for the door of the church, the man shoved past and placed himself firmly between them and the door. The toy gun had been replaced by a knife.
“You can’t just go barge in there,” the man insisted.
“You hiding something?” Vix stepped back. Her hands drifted down to the assortment of weapons hanging from her belt.
“You can’t just go barging in to somebody’s home…err…” he seemed to be momentarily tongue-tied.
“You live in the church?” Gemma asked. “I could see hiding in one for a while, but I would never feel comfortable staying in one for too long. It would be like God was always looking over my shoulder. I would be in the confession booth every single time I said a bad word.”
“Look, whoever you are, we just want in out of the rain for a while. We are not staying. But…we are coming in and staying here for a while. You can either get out of the way, or use that thing.” She nodded to the blade.
The man looked down as if he had forgotten he was even holding it and hastily stuffed it back in its pouch at his side. His head dropped and his shoulders slumped. Vix gave an inner sigh of relief. She had not figured him for the cold-blooded killer type. But these days it was getting hard to tell.
“And take that silly mask off,” she added. “You can’t catch the zombie infection by breathing it.”
“No,” the man reached up and pulled the mask away revealing a face that was losing the war with acne…and he was perhaps fourteen…maybe, “but the mask has eye protection.”
“Does your mom know you’re here?” Gemma snorted, trying her best to hold back a laugh.
The young man’s face cracked a little around the edges. “She died a few months ago,” he mumbled. “In fact, everybody is gone now but me.”
Gemma’s face went immediately from a smile to a look of sorrow. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“The stupid cow opens her mouth without thinking more often than not,” Vix interrupted. “Look…” she left that word hanging, inviting him to give his name.
“Harold Wentz, mum” the boy said with a slight bow.
After formal introductions were finished and Vix told him to never call her ‘mum’ again, she returned to the issue at hand as she saw it which was to get inside before this rain came. She was sick of being cold and wet.
“So can we get inside now, Harold?” Vix made for the door. Once again, he stepped in front of her. However, now that she could see his face, she saw the flush.
“I…umm…” the boy stammered and sputtered.
“Do you need a moment to…” Vix paused to consider the words she should use, “…clean up a bit before inviting in company?”
“Yes please,” Harold said.
Vix nodded and Harold opened the door enough so he could slip inside. The door shut and Vix turned to look back at the grounds, paying close attention to the area around the gate. It looked like it had been fortified in a matter of speaking. A car was parked up against it on their side of the wall.
“Why does he need to clean up for us to come in?” Gemma asked, the confusion obvious in her voice.
“Could be anything,” Vix said with a tired shrug. “Most likely…” she glanced over her shoulder and dropped her voice to a whisper, “considering his age, I imagine it is porn.”
“Gross!” Gemma squealed and made a face.
Eventually, the door opened. To his credit, Harold had removed his makeshift body armor and looked to have run a comb through his hair. He ushered them in with a bit of a flourish and showed them to one of the pews that was decked out with overstuffed cushions.
The three engaged in small talk for a while. Eventually, Harold asked the question Vix was waiting for.
“So, what brings you here to London?”
“She won’t say,” Gemma spoke before Vix had a chance to open her mouth.
“Actually,” Vix shot a glare at the girl who was by now either oblivious to it, or really good at ignoring them due to their frequency, “I am here to find something that I think is worth the risk.”
“Wow,” Harold sighed, “the only thing I could think of that might be worth risking yourself like that for would be the Arthurian and Medieval display that was going to be shown at museum before all this zombie nonsense began.”
Vix shot Harold a look of incredulity. The boy stared back for a moment…and then a huge smile bloomed on his pimple-littered face.
“Please take me with you,” Harold begged.
Gemma had heard everything that was said. She looked first from Vix and then to Harold. The two were grinning like idiots. Once again, she had the feeling that she was missing something.
***
“Tomorrow we are making a run east to the outskirts of Jonesboro,” George sat at a table across from Jody and Danny. “There are some housing projects on the outskirts. We still have a few months before we can get our gardens up and running. We are doing okay, but food is still something that we are concerned about.”
“What are you doing for water?” Jody asked.
“The nearby stream to the west,” George said. We have to haul it in a wagon, but we got a good pump and the six tanks hold four hundred gallons each. It is an all-day evolution, but we have a water tower here that we are using, so fortunately we only have to do that weekly.”
“Any way to run a line from the stream to the town?” Danny asked.
“Over two miles?” George laughed. “Not likely. Hell, we’re just fortunate that we have it as close as it is. Heard reports that some of the cities in the Southwest like Phoenix, Vegas…even LA, the population was dying faster from lack of water than they were zombies.”
Jody had heard some of those stories. Of course he had also heard tales of power plant meltdowns in the eastern part of the United States, subway flooding in New York and, if rumors could be believed, the reclamation of the city of New Orleans by the ocean. Considering that the media was under a tight choke hold for almost as long as they managed to stay on the air—his unit had actually been stationed at a local television network for a few days until the grid dropped and it no longer mattered—he wondered how anybody really knew anything beyond what they could see with their own eyes.
“Well, I just wonder how long you can go if the town ever gets surrounded and has to lock itself down,” Jody said as he took a closer look at the map George had spread out on the table.
“If we ration, the estimates have it at almost a month.”
“And is that estimate made based on a full tower?” Jody asked.
George was silent, confirming what Jody already knew. He glanced at Danny who seemed more interested in the tattered Playboy he had managed to find.
“You have some heavy equipment around here.” Jody spun the map so that George could see it the way he was looking at it. “I propose that, instead of making this Band-Aid run to Jonesboro, we start on a canal.” He traced a line with his finger from the stream to their location.
“We were thinking that over. Most folks figured we would wait until winter was behind us. That is some pretty miserable work,” George said.
“So you plan on using picks and shovels?” Jody asked.
“Hell no!” George laughed. “We got some pretty heavy duty equipment over at the MorSoy facility. Not to mention what we can find around some of these farms.”
“Which is why I think w
e should move now,” Jody said. “The diesel will probably last a little while longer if we are lucky. It might already be bad. Fuel has a shelf life, George.”
The big man sat back in his chair nodding and running his index finger along the scar on his face. He looked over to the men who had continued to sit silent during the meeting.
“You heard the man,” George barked. “Start filling tanks…crank the engines and see what we have. This job starts first thing in the morning.”
All the men started to get up with the exception of one. Jody could already tell that this was going to be the voice of opposition.
“I just got one question,” the man said with a flick of his eyes that held Jody’s for just a second before returning to George and then scanning the other men who were in the process of standing. “Who made you leader?”
At first Jody thought that comment was directed at him. However, he followed the man’s gaze straight to George. To his credit, the much larger man seemed to take the query in stride. He stood, which prompted the other men to resume doing the same.
“Remar, we have been through this…I am not anybody’s leader. I am open to ideas from everybody. We make these choices as a group with the hopes that we will be able to survive this nightmare.”
“So when do we vote?” Remar pressed. “I just heard an idea tossed out that we actually did vote on…the run to Jonesboro. In its place, we got a job that we agreed would be best put off until the weather clears just a bit.”
“And none of us took into account that our fuel would possibly be bad by then. So, unless you are excited about digging this ditch by hand…” George let the challenge hang for just a few seconds. “Didn’t think so. Now, if there are no more questions, we got work to do.”
Jody got up and followed George. Of course Remar decided that he needed to stand in the doorway. Jody came nose-to-nose with the man and raised his eyebrows in what he hoped came across as more of a “do you mind?” than a “you wanna do something about it?” look.
Remar stepped aside, but he grumbled something as the soldier passed. Jody ignored it and instead called out, “You coming, Danny?”
“Huh?” was all he heard his friend mutter.
Looking up, Danny saw the room vacant and Jody’s back disappearing down the hallway. He rolled the magazine and shoved it in his back pocket. Tonight was his designated shower night—this town was worse than the Army when it came to scheduling a person’s routine—but at least now he had something to look forward to beyond the hot water.
***
Major Beers backed up the stairs. Darkness was coming quick and she had no idea how many of her people—if any—still remained alive. Their attempt to keep the zombies from crossing the bridges had failed on both fronts. The railroad bridge never did get blown, and the vehicles that they used to clog the other only slowed the flow for about half an hour. The bodies that were smashed against that barricade eventually became a ramp for those behind them.
As far as she knew, any remaining ammunition that they possessed was gone in the first ten minutes. At least that was when she stopped hearing any more gunfire. It was very possible that she was the owner of the very last bullet; and she would be damned if it would be wasted on a walking corpse. Nope, that bullet was all hers.
“There is a conveyer somewhere up ahead through one of those doors.” The voice of Suzi McFarlane made the major jump. She was thankful for the dark. She’d shown enough weakness in the presence of what had been her army.
“And that would mean what?” Major Wanda Beers asked, doing her best to sound like she was still in charge.
She had no idea exactly what of, but she still had to command as long as one “soldier” remained. It did not matter that the soldier in question was a civilian that she had just conscripted.
“We can cross over to the other building. That will take us to the rear of this facility. From there, if we can find an opening, it would just be a matter of making it to the woods beyond,” Suzi explained.
“You have a pretty good knowledge of this place…were you a local?”
“No, ma’am, but I made a few patrols on foot. One thing I have learned is to always know your surroundings. When those things show up, if you are only familiar with the front and back door, and those happen to be clogged…then that is it for you.”
Major Beers was coming to like this young lady. She was tough, resourceful, and left nothing to chance. Just maybe they would survive this ordeal.
“Lead the way, McFarlane,” Major Beers stepped aside and allowed the Suzi to pass.
Together they wound through open bays of all sorts of machinery, small offices, and monitoring stations. They had travelled in relative darkness for quite a while, so when they reached the first open area, the two were momentarily frozen. They looked at each other and then both broke out laughing.
“You are filthy!” Major Beers exclaimed.
“And you would be drummed out of the service for racial insensitivity,” Suzi quipped.
Both women were filthy with coal dust. And the fact that both were soaked with perspiration from the non-stop fighting, running, and climbing that they had been involved in for the past few hours only gave them a more atrocious appearance.
“Guess this wasn’t a clean coal power plant,” Suzi chuckled as they went through a door that opened to a room full of machinery.
“Like there ever was such a thing,” Major Beers scoffed.
Together, the stepped out on to the catwalk that crisscrossed the enormous open room. They were halfway across when noise erupted below. Both looked down in time to see a handful of people running across the room. On their heels was a swarm of undead. They were only feet away from a mechanism that would drop a sectioned ladder that would reach the floor fifty feet below. The pair made eye contact for a second and then went back to silently observing the scene.
The living ran with what looked like complete randomness. They would turn down one opening that led between some of the giant metal beasts that once burned hot and belched mercury-laden smoke into the air. Sometimes they would have to backtrack. It was through those maneuvers that there number continued to dwindle. Eventually, the last scream died out.
Major Wanda Beers gave Suzi a nod, urging her to continue on to their destination. Making every effort to be as quiet as possible, they made their way to the far end of the huge room. Once there, they were faced with a heavy steel door.
“We can either sit here for a while and see if they wander off, or we can open it and probably make enough noise to bring a lot of attention our way,” Suzi whispered.
“And the conveyer is on the other side of this door?” Major Beers asked. She continued to watch below. A few of the ones set upon by the zombies apparently had enough left for them to get back up. A handful of uniformed figures could now be seen milling about with the others.
“Yeah, but when I came through here, I noticed that the dogging levers make a heck of a racket when you lift them to open the door…and the hinges on the door are even worse. I was going to get up here and oil them, but just never got around to it.”
The major decided that now was not the time to question Ms. McFarlane about her exploits. She was thankful that the woman had obviously been resourceful and actively thinking through possible scenarios, however, she was not sure that she liked being kept in the dark. A subordinate is supposed to make reports to their senior officers with pertinent information. This certainly qualified.
“Let’s see if they leave,” the major sighed and settled in.
Quite honestly, she needed some time to just catch her breath. They had been on the move all day and the fatigue was starting to overwhelm the effects of adrenaline. Not only that, but she needed to consider her next move.
Escaping would be pointless if she did not have a plan. And then she had to evaluate the only person left from her little army to survive. There was a lot to like about Ms. McFarlane. However, the woman was not military. And this recen
t revelation had her wondering about what degree of loyalty she could expect in the future.
You’re being paranoid, Wanda, a tiny voice whispered in her head.
No, she countered, I’m being careful.
14
Don’t Mess With A Geek (Girl)
“Incoming!” somebody shouted.
Aleah spun on her heels in time to see what she had to assume were the group of survivors sprinting for them at a dead run. Even in that quick first glimpse she could tell that a couple of them were bitten. One was holding his or her arm close to the body. The other, the one bringing up the rear, was already staggering.
As Aleah watched, that one person slowed and fell to her knees. Aleah was assuming it was a her by the long hair pulled back in a ponytail that became visible when the hood of her jacket fell back.
A pack of zombies came around the corner just a moment later. A guess put the numbers at around fifty or so. Aleah knew what was coming. They converged on the lone figure and fell on it. There was only one scream, but it was cut off quick.
“Everybody take positions in the front,” Sergeant Seiber ordered. She shot a look at Aleah and added in a tone just meant for her to hear. “We aren’t done with this.”
“Not by a long shot,” Aleah retorted. She unslung her crossbow and moved in next to one of the soldiers, not bothering to even glance at who it might be. She wanted to put this little event behind her first, and she was not counting on any support. After all, they had made it a point since this mission began to let her know she was the outsider. She was the civilian, and therefore, somehow lesser in their eyes.
The group down below were coming straight for them at an all-out sprint. Not one of them had even glanced back when one of their own went down. That was something worth noting in Aleah’s mind.
“Stop where you are!” the sergeant yelled as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
A few of them skidded to a halt, but at least ten were still coming. Aleah distinctly recalled seeing at least twice as many of them when they first came through. Had they suffered that big of a loss at the hospital? The ones coming up the stairs continued to do so until the first bolt from a crossbow—Aleah couldn’t see who fired it from her position—caught the lead person in the chest. The body stopped like it had struck an invisible wall, tottered for a second and then fell back. Two more bolts followed, each striking a different target.