by Jon Schafer
***
Heather pulled the blanket up over the dead woman’s face before turning to Linda and saying, “She never had a chance. Two in the chest, one in the hip.” Looking at all the blood sprayed across the area, she added, “The one in the hip must have hit her femoral artery.”
Linda nodded and pointed to where Steve crouched over another of the wounded as she said, “I think that’s the last of them, though.”
Looking around, Heather could see that of the six people wounded in the cross-fire, all of them were being treated or had been covered with a blanket if medical aid was no longer an option.
Rising to her feet, she started to tell Linda that they would make one more circuit of the camp to ensure everyone was accounted for. Before she could start off, though, a low, whining noise made her freeze. Twisting her head from side to side, she tried to determine from what direction the sound had come. She heard the noise repeated, this time joined by what sounded like a dozen more dead voices calling out for food.
Without hesitation, she echoed the orders already being issued by Steve and Tick-Tock as they alerted to the sound of the dead, “Everyone grab your gear. If the wounded can walk, get them up. If they can’t, carry them. Grab all the weapons and ammunition of the three people that died. Move, move, move.”
CHAPTER NINE
Russellville, Arkansas:
When Cain brought him the news of their delay in moving the facility to Virginia, Professor Hawkins threw his coffee cup across the room to shatter against the wall.
“What are those idiots in D.C. doing?” he asked venomously as his eyes darted over the shattered porcelain. “They promised that my Malectron would take priority over everything else.”
Cain took a deep breath and said, “They told me that it has something to do with the electrical grid and the wiring. They don’t have enough power to keep your lab running.”
Trying to calm himself, but not having any luck, Hawkins asked through gritted teeth, “So the free world has to wait for the fucking cable guy to show up?”
“It’s a little more complex than that,” Cain explained.
“Complex, my ass,” Hawkins retorted. “My Malectron is complex, the double helix is complex, but electrical wiring is simple. If the Joint Chiefs had half a brain between them, they would reroute all the power to my new facility and use slave labor to finish my lab so I can move in.”
At the words ‘slave labor’, an evil grin crossed Cain’s lips. He could think of quite a few people he would like to see breaking rocks until they dropped. He had hitched his wagon to Hawkins’ star, and that star was on a steady rise to the top, so it was only a matter of time until he was in a position where he could use his power. With glee, he knew that once there, he would run things the way they were supposed to be. Shaking off these thoughts, he tried to console Hawkins by saying, “It’s only a few days, Doctor.”
With a deep sigh, Hawkins said, “I know, I know, but with only two working units, and one of them being used to keep the dead away from the camp. We’re so close that I worry something will happen. I want you to put someone we trust in the radio room. I want them listening to every incoming and outgoing communication. I also want to know the whereabouts of Cage and his sidekick. I don’t need them screwing anything up.”
Reaching out to pat Hawkins on the shoulder, Cain said reassuringly, “Don’t worry, Doctor. As long as I’m around, you and the Malectron are safe.”
***
Major Jedidiah Cage finished reading a copy of the communique Fagan had taken from the radio room and breathed a sigh of relief. He was aware of the imminent departure of the people living in the farmhouse, but now it looked like they had a little time before they moved to Washington, D.C. Time was what they needed.
Shortly after returning from Mount Nebo, he had gotten word that Hawkins and his people were being ordered to leave immediately for a facility near the capital. Once there, they could start wholesale construction of the Malectron. His first thought upon hearing this was to order his people to storm the farmhouse to keep them from going, but when this initial flash to use force abated, his rational mind took over as he realized that the only way to do this would be to find someone that was immune. He knew that if he tried to stop the Professor with force, it would be met by force from his guards, so that was out of the question. In addition, since the disappearance of Lieutenant Randal, they were obviously being watched, so sabotage was also out of the question. On top of that, they would be using helicopters from another base to move, so this threw a wrench in any plans of disabling their transport. Their only option was to find an alternative to the weapon that the government thought would be the final solution for the reanimated corpses walking the Earth by the hundreds of millions.
With the departure of Hawkins and his people being held up by some kind of electrical glitch, this gave them some time to come up with a plan. They had to work out some way to slow down the doctor for at least a week, since this wasn’t the only good news they had received. There had also been word from General Eastridge about intercepted radio traffic between two groups of survivors.
One of them claimed to have a person with them that was immune to the HWNW virus.
The only bad news of the day was that after the last intercept, all contact had been lost. The General had relayed that he had people listening for contact and that when it was re-established, he would send two Blackhawk helicopters to bring them directly to the base outside of Russellville. Once here, Doctor Connors could study the patient to help determine a cure. More good news was that the group was located in southeast Texas, a short helicopter flight from their base.
Laying the communique on his desk, Cage said, “This might be the break we’ve been looking for.”
Fagan nodded and said, “It buys us a couple of days, but if we do get someone here that’s immune, how long will it take Connors to come up with a vaccine?”
“She told me she can have something in as little as twenty-four hours,” Cage replied. “She said that she needs to isolate some kind of enzyme or bacteria or something in their spit, shit or blood that was corrupt in the first test subject.”
Fagan raised his eyebrows and asked, “Corrupt?”
Cage nodded and said, “The lady they’re working with used to drink heavily. She is immune to the virus, but because of her drinking they can’t find the right thing they need for a foolproof vaccine.”
Fagan looked wistfully at the ceiling as he said, “So if drinking makes you immune, and with as much as I drink…”
Cage laughed and said, “I don’t think it works that way.”
Snapping to attention, Fagan said in a brisk manner, “To be on the safe side, sir, I think we need to have a few doses of that zombie-bite medicine you keep in your desk.”
Cage chuckled as he shook his head. Looking at his friend with an amused expression, after a few seconds he opened a drawer and extracted a mason jar of clear fluid. Setting it on his desk, he asked with mock sincerity, “Do you really think it will help, Staff Sergeant?”
Coming to parade rest, Fagan replied, “It can’t hurt, sir. And besides, we can’t do anything except sit here with our thumb up our ass until we hear from the General.”
Reaching back into the drawer, Cage retrieved two jelly glasses as he said, “And I hope it’s soon.”
CHAPTER TEN
The Firebreak:
Steve Wendell crouched in the waist high grass of the firebreak as he watched the first rays of the sun filter through the trees on either side of him. In the gathering daylight, he could now see that the firebreak was also used as a right of way for power lines, the string of power poles holding their useless wires running off into the distance before disappearing into the morning mist. Laying his rifle across his thighs, he cupped his hands behind his ears and slowly twisted his head from side to side, listening for any trace of the group of dead that had been on their trail for most of the night. Hearing nothing, he felt relief that they
had finally shook them. They had alternately used the firebreak and cut into the woods in their effort to lose the Zs, and it appeared to have worked. Looking down at himself, he saw he was a mess. Grasping his rifle in one hand, he used the other to try and brush away the chaff and dirt clinging to the front of his pants. With his jeans soaked from the dewy grass he had been wading through for the last few hours, it was hopeless.
Giving up, he checked his watch and saw that the ten-minute break he had called was almost up. Now that it was light enough to see, they could send a scout ahead of them to check the area. In their flight from the camp, they’d had to trust in luck that they didn’t run into anything, but today it would be different. Today they would move cautiously, since while they could see the dead approaching in the light of day, the dead could also spot them.
Turning, Steve called out softly for Tick-Tock. The grass was so thick that even though his friend was only feet away, he was invisible.
“What’s up?” Tick-Tock asked.
“Almost time to move,” Steve told him, then added, “We need to do a quick head count to make sure no one fell asleep and gets left behind.”
“I already did it,” Tick-Tock answered. “We’ve got fourteen adults, one child and one dog. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”
“You counted yourself as an adult?” Steve asked.
Tick-Tock chuckled and said, “I took some liberty in that.”
“How’s Denise?” he asked.
“Groggy as hell, but she’s hanging in there,” Tick-Tock told him. “We need to find a place to hole up for a little bit.”
Pulling out his map, Steve studied it for a moment before saying, “We should be north of the lake by now, so unless the big group from the east radically changed direction, they should miss us. There’s another lake a few miles ahead of us and to the north with a small town and a marina on it.” Holding the map out so he could read the small print, he said, “Sam Rayburn resort. We could make it in a couple hours.”
Seeing him squint and try to focus, Tick-Tock asked, “You getting old? They say the eyes are the first thing to go.”
“Getting old doesn’t worry me,” Steve replied as he folded the map. “My hair starts falling out, they’ve got a pill for that. My energy gets low, they’ve got a pill for that. My dick stops working, they’ve got a pill for that. My worry is getting it bit off if I pop a Viagra.”
Tick-Tock laughed softly as Steve readied his M4 and slowly rose until he could just see over the top of the river of grass. Turning in a full circle, he spotted nothing. Dropping down, he said, “We need to send a scout out ahead of us like we planned.”
“One of my people already volunteered,” Tick-Tock replied.
“Good,” Steve said. “Find another one to go with them. I was thinking that it might be a good idea for two people to be out front. That way, if they run into something and one of them gets fucked up, the other one can still come back and warn us. Get them started. We’ll give them a five-minute head start. As for the main group, I’ll take point, you take drag, and Heather can walk trail.”
“Good plan,” Tick-Tock said. “I like walking right behind you.”
“You checking out my butt or something?” Steve asked with a grin.
“No,” Tick-Tock replied in a dead pan voice, “it’s because if the shit hits the fan, I’m using you as a meat-shield.”
Steve had to cover his mouth to stifle the laughter that poured out of him.
***
Tick-Tock raised his hand and halted everyone when he saw one of the scouts coming at them in a faltering, loping run. Knowing the woman’s gait was due to the grass and not that she had been bitten, he looked down and cursed the thick growth that constantly seemed to tangle around their feet and threaten to trip them.
The group had travelled for three hours without incident, but it was slow going. Even though the grass was brown, brittle and dry from the cooler temperatures of winter, it was still thick. Constant calls of “Wait a minute” came from up and down the line as people stopped to unwrap the long strands from around their legs, feet and ankles. Point was the worst and had to be switched every twenty minutes since whoever walked out front had to break a trail through the virgin waves of weeds. One of Tick-Tock’s people had brought along a machete from the mansion, but it was cheaply made and the handle broke off within the first few minutes of use. A rag was wrapped around the tang, but it was still awkward to use.
Not yet knowing what the scout was coming back to tell them, whether it was that a horde of the dead were coming at them at full gallop or that they had come across some kind of oasis in the middle of the woods complete with blackjack, whiskey and dancing girls, Tick-Tock was grateful for the chance to rest.
Feeling a presence on his right, he turned to find Steve standing next to him. The two of them had alternated with Brain on point, but the grueling labor had taxed all three of them to the point of exhaustion.
“We need to switch this trailblazing crap out with someone else,” Tick-Tock told him. “What about Igor?”
Steve shook his head and replied, “He won’t leave Cindy’s side, and I’m not bringing her up here.” Pointing to the scout that was still dozens of yards away as she made her way through the thick grass, he said, “If this is not a dire emergency, we’ll get a couple of your people to rotate with us.”
Steve and Tick-Tock waited in silence for the woman to reach them. Noise discipline had been drilled into them with such force that the scout didn’t speak until she had stopped two feet in front of them. After catching her breath, she said in a loud whisper, “We’ve got a whole bunch of dead in front of us.”
Steve and Tick-Tock instantly went on the alert, scanning the woods on both sides and their front for sign of any Zs.
Seeing their reaction, the scout said, “Not zombies, but dead zombies.” Looking at Tick-Tock, she added, “The good kind. We ran across them a few minutes ago.”
“Show me,” Steve said as he pointed for her to lead the way.
***
The stink was one that they had all smelled before, but not to this degree. Hundreds of dead lay scattered across the opening of the firebreak, so many that they flattened the grass for at least two hundred feet in either direction. By the aroma that rose into the air to gag him and the signs of decay on the bodies closest to him, Steve estimated that they had been disposed of days before and then left to rot under the Texas sun. Head wounds and upper body trauma were readily apparent on all of the bodies, with some sporting multiple impacts from what looked like a small caliber weapon on rapid fire.
After reaching the scene of the slaughter of the dead and seeing no threat, Steve had sent the scouts back to bring the main body of the group forward.
When they were gone, he turned to Tick-Tock and said, “Looks like the military has been through here.”
His friend shook his head and replied, “I don’t think it was the Army.”
Curious at his second in command’s take on what might have happened, Steve said, “But look at the headshots.” Pointing to the torn up foliage on both sides of the firebreak, he added, “It looks like they set up on either side of the way and just waited for the dead to stagger into the kill zone.”
Tick-Tock shook his head and replied, “But the woods are torn up directly across on both sides. If it was the military, they would have never fired across the opening and risk hitting each other. If it was an ambush, they would have set up in an L shape so they didn’t kill one another. This was some kind of mechanical ambush.” Pointing to the dead lying in the grass, he added, “And whatever happened, it happened in just a few seconds. You can see where none of the dead even made it close to whatever was attacking them. Most of the wounds are on the sides of their heads and bodies.”
Starting off toward the line of denuded brush to his left, Tick-Tock added, “Let’s go see if we can find any sign of what did this.”
Using a game trail leading into the forest, the two men on
ly had to follow it a few feet before finding themselves in a clearing. The sun was well up, showing them all they needed to see.
Pointing to two sets of ruts dug into the soft dirt and dead leaves, Tick-Tock said, “Looks like someone moved a couple of mounted weapons in here and set them up side by side. I’d bet my top hat and my house cat that we find the same marks across the way.”
“And probably the same thing further down the firebreak,” Steve added as he picked up on how so many of the dead had been exterminated in such a short time. “Whatever hit the Zs hit them at the same time all along their line. Maybe it was the military. Maybe they came up with some type of new weapon that takes out a whole bunch of the dead at the same time.”
Walking over to a lone tree standing in the clearing, Tick-Tock reached out and tugged a small, straight object from its trunk. Turning it over in his hand, he said with a smile, “Or maybe an old weapon.”
***
Now that the woods on either side of the trail had to be scouted as well as the trail in front of them, the group moved cautiously. With a new, unknown threat lurking in the woods that could be either friend or foe, their progress was slowed down to less than a mile an hour. Coming to an area with overgrown fields on both sides of them, instead of speeding up to minimize their exposure, they slowed even more when they saw that some of the fields had been freshly plowed. Most of them were still fallow, but a few had been cleared for planting. In addition to this, just before coming out of the woods they had seen where the posts holding the electrical wires above their heads abruptly stopped. The only things remaining were huge holes in the ground and gouges in the earth where they had been dug up and dragged off.
The signs were obvious that there was a human element nearby, but after their last few interactions with the survivors of the zombie apocalypse, it left the group with an uneasy feeling. Besides Delightfully Grimm and her crew, the few people that they had come across had tried to kill them and take their supplies. With a bad taste in their mouths from what humanity had sunk to, hope that this new group of farmers was friendly was but a fleeting ghost.