The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned

by Hetzer, Paul

  They both sat quietly for a few moments contemplating different scenarios.

  “Do you think the kid will stay?” Heinlich asked.

  “Where else does he have to go?”

  They discussed the squad’s plans for the next few days before there was another knock on the door and people started to enter and take seats for the debriefing.

  Last to enter were Sarah and Jeremy, who took seats next to each other at the back of the table. Shavers was happy to see the teenager taking the young boy under her wing. He could see that Jeremy was enamored with her by the way he followed her every movement with puppy-dog eyes. He filed the information away in the useful box in his mind and then turned to business at hand while everyone settled in.

  “Who’s relieving Carroll and Pickeral on watch after the meeting?” he asked first of Heinlich.

  “Benton and Nantz are up next.”

  Shavers nodded and then addressed the assembly. “Obviously we didn’t get to our objective today. However, we picked up a couple of new additions, Jeremy and his dog Jumper. Well worth the trade-off I believe.” There was a smattering of clapping.

  Shavers laid out the plan for the next day. A food run to the Dogwood Hill Kroger grocery store, two and a half klicks southeast from where the Armory was located in Gypsy Hill Park. They would have to traverse through the heart of Staunton with its scattered bands of crazies that hadn’t yet integrated with one of the larger swarms. The 29th had eventually expanded their scavenging efforts as they emptied the shelves of non-perishable food stores closer to their location that hadn’t yet been overrun by crazies.

  He also warned of a moderate sized swarm of crazies that had a warren in the warehouse across Statler Boulevard from the Kroger. This was the swarm that was observed nesting at the Hospital Cemetery during the warmer period a few weeks ago. This swarm was one of several that would hit the lakes at the old quarry before heading out in search of food each morning. During the last patrol the Kroger’s doors looked to still be intact and hopefully most of the food stock was still available. Even if the crazies had already been through it, the canned goods would still be viable, he explained to them.

  They would utilize one of the HEMTT’s, an eight wheeled off-road capable heavy-hauler about the size of a tractor-trailer rig along with a HMMWV, which was fondly referred to as the Humvee in the military, with a .50-cal for support. He hoped he wasn’t being optimistic in the amount of food they would be able to liberate from the store. Still, it would be the largest grocery store they had hit since they had started scavenging for food. The idea was to score enough to keep them from having to make another food run for several months if need be.

  “How old is the intelligence on the store and the swarm?” Reese asked from the back of the room.

  “It’s been about six days since we were last through there,” Heinlich answered.

  “That sure as hell don’t give me the warm and fuzzies,” the old man replied, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “You should know better than acting on intelligence that old.”

  “Normally I would concur with you,” Shavers replied calmly. “However, we’re going to be out of food within a week. It would take that long to set up and observe the area long enough to collect the kind of information we would need to do this mission safely, and with just as much danger to the scouting party.” He took a deep breath before resuming.

  “Heinlich and I decided to take a squad and go in hot and fast and get what we can. Back the Hemmitt right through the doors and start loading. If anything looks out of the ordinary we can terminate the mission and haul ass back here. We need the food, sooner rather than later.”

  Reese looked back at him with that cold stare of an old killer, shrugged his shoulders and smiled slyly.

  Damn him! Shavers thought. That old man can get under my skin. I’m just glad he’s with us and not against us.

  He looked away from Reese and continued disseminating the plan. He would be driving the Hemmitt and Heinlich the Humvee. Nantz, Carroll, and Benton would be with Heinlich, while McCully would be running shotgun with him in the Hemmitt. Pickeral would remain at the armory on comms and Murchison would be on watch on the roof’s observation post. They would leave the armory at 1000 hours. Because of the logjam of cars in and around the city, they would have to take a circuitous route to Dogwood Hill, so total transit time was expected to be 35 minutes. They would have one hour to get everything on their shopping list before departing the area and returning to base. Total mission time shouldn’t exceed two hours fifteen minutes.

  “See Sergeant Heinlich for weapon assignments and load outs. Any questions?” He looked around the table.

  “When do we go back to Waynesboro?” McCully asked after the room remained silent for a few moments.

  “Sometime in the next few days. I’ll let you know.” There were no other questions. “Okay, that’s it. We’ll have a 0900 mission briefing for those involved in tomorrow’s run.”

  The meeting broke up with some ‘Hooahs’ and people filed out leaving Shavers and Heinlich in the room alone.

  “Get the boy on the watch list,” Shavers told the Sergeant. “Also see if you can find a spare stock for that AR pistol he seems to cherish. He’ll need a more stable weapons platform if he’s going to be working with us.”

  “Sure,” Heinlich replied. He stood up to leave, then paused and turned back. “You know Reese is correct. We are heading in there blind.”

  Shavers nodded with a sigh. “Not completely. There are simply no good choices. We found out the hard way that going house to house to scavenge food doesn’t work to our advantage.”

  “Maybe we ought to bring the Stryker along for shits and giggles.”

  “No, although let’s have it on standby with a crew tomorrow as a QRF.”

  A QRF was Army terminology for a Quick Reaction Force used to respond in short order to emergencies.

  “I’ll see to it.” Heinlich spun on his heels and exited the room, leaving Shavers staring absently at the map on the table.

  For the first time since the worldwide pandemic began, Jeremy slept a deep, undisturbed sleep in the relatively comfortable and secure National Guard Armory. He and Heinlich had transformed his AR pistol into a short-barreled rifle with the addition of an M4 stock. He was happy with the change, and it felt like the firearm was more balanced in his hands, even with the added weight of the sliding stock. He and the stocky Sergeant had sat together in the shop working on the firearm by candle and flashlight while talking about both of their past experiences since the virus had hit.

  He had told the Sergeant about his father being in the Army and achieving the rank of Major before leaving to work at the facility in Southern Maryland. He found out from Heinlich that they had generators, although they only ran them when necessary so as not to attract the attention of the Loonies. They used mostly propane for cooking and heating water. They were able to charge the batteries with a set of solar panels that they had liberated from a highway construction sign and had used some 12 volt truck batteries hooked up to the panels to run LED lights in the bunkrooms and chow hall.

  He woke up the next morning to the sound of activity in and around the bunkroom, feeling more rested than he had in a long time. Jumper had slept on the floor next to him the entire night in order to be closer to him; neglecting the bunk Jeremy had set up for him. The air in the room was chilly and Jeremy hurriedly got dressed, strapped on his firearms, and headed to the mess hall where he found Sarah drinking an instant coffee and eating a slice of bread with jam smeared on it.

  Jeremy sat down across from her and she smiled at him and said good morning. Her smile seemed to brighten the entire room and he couldn’t help but smile back. Jumper sat on the floor next to the boy and stared hungrily at a partial loaf of bread that sat on the table in front of the girl as if it was a prized piece of beef.

  “Have some bread,” she offered Jeremy, shoving the loaf and jam toward him. “We make it fr
esh a couple times a week.”

  He mumbled his thanks and sliced himself off a piece of the thick-crusted white bread.

  “I saw they put you on the watch list for this evening,” Sarah said to him between bites.

  He nodded. “The Sergeant showed me where I need to go and what to look for last night. I’m glad I can help.”

  “So I guess you decided to stay?”

  He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally as he heaped a glob of strawberry jam onto his bread and spread it around.

  “I’d like you to stay,” she added, smiling kindly at him.

  He only nodded again, not looking up at her as he took a bite of his bread. He really wanted to stay here with these people, especially Sarah, yet he also knew he needed to find his parents. He guessed staying here a few days wouldn’t matter much. The farm wasn’t going anywhere and maybe he could ask the Sergeant if they could drive him there later. His GPS unit was charging in one of the Humvees and the unit had calculated only a two hour drive time from their current location when Jeremy had powered it up to show the Sergeant where he was headed. If his parents weren’t waiting for him there, he could leave them a note and come back here, or maybe Sarah would want to go there with him and wait for them at the house. This thought brought a smile to his face, although he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with her while they were there, a kiss sure would be nice though.

  “Listen, sport, the squad is about to head to the grocery store. I’m on standby in the Stryker. You’re welcome to come and hang out with me if you want, but I have to go now.” She downed the last of her coffee and stood up.

  Jeremy nodded, feeling silly at being at a loss for words around her.

  “Stay and finish eating then come on out when you’re done.” She kissed him on the top of his head and left. He wondered dizzily what that kiss would have felt like on his lips.

  Jumper whined beside him and shifted impatiently, breaking the spell. Jeremy stared at the dog and laughed. “Yeah, I know I’m being silly,” he told the dog, “but she is really pretty.”

  He broke the remaining bread in half and gave it to the dog, who wolfed it down in one gulp then looked longingly at the remaining piece as Jeremy applied jam to it. Jeremy took two large bites and then tossed the rest to Jumper, who grabbed it up and swallowed it whole.

  The parking area of the Armory was awash in activity when Jeremy and Jumper walked out of the building. A large eight-wheeled truck in a desert camo paint scheme sat idling in front of the gate. Jeremy thought that its cab had a space-age appearance to it with its triangular shaped nose and massive moon tires. The cargo bed was approximately the size of a tractor trailer rig and the entire vehicle sat high enough off the ground that he could almost walk upright under it. Jeremy spotted Shavers behind the wheel and the big black man waved to him with a brief flick of his hand. Jeremy fleetingly waved back. In the passenger seat McCully’s fiery red beard burned brightly in the morning sun through the truck’s massive front window.

  Behind it sat an up-armored Humvee, its engine running quietly compared to the big truck. It was also painted in the same camouflage scheme as the truck that Shavers had called the Hemmitt. Sticking out of the hatch behind the Browning M2 stood Nantz, his bearded face wrapped in an olive-drab colored scarf against the chill of the morning. Between the folds of the scarf a cigarette protruded from his lips that he nervously smoked while waiting for the mission to begin. Jeremy could see Heinlich in the driver’s seat, both hands on the wheel with his fingers impatiently tapping out a soundless tune while he waited. Beside him sat a man with a large, shiny black head. That must be PFC Carroll, he thought, also tapping along to music on his M4 rifle which he held between his legs.

  The Stryker had been turned around from the night before and was pointing nose toward the gate. Its motor warmed up with a deep chugging sound coming from its idling diesel engine. Hernandez finished her walk around of the vehicle and climbed back onto the deck and got ready to drop through the driver’s hatch. She spotted Jeremy and winked at him without smiling while she adjusted her radio headset and then dropped through the hatch. The rear ramp was open and Jeremy made his way to the back of the vehicle and climbed up and inside. Jumper found a sunny spot on the pavement and lay down with his eyes watching the boy as he disappeared inside the vehicle.

  Reese was standing in the hatch behind the roof mounted machine gun, clamping a belt of .50-caliber rounds into its feeding mechanism.

  Jeremy walked over and sat down next to Sarah. She was wearing the same cord mounted headset that McCully had had on yesterday, listening to the radio traffic. She smiled briefly at Jeremy then removed the headset and hung it on the wall behind her.

  “Wait here,” she said to him. “I gotta open the gate when the lookout gives the all clear.” She ducked out of the Stryker and disappeared around the side.

  Jeremy moved up to the front and then crawled on hands and knees down the tightly cramped crawlspace that the Stryker teams referred to as the ‘Hell Hole’, which was supposed to allow the driver to escape in the event of a rollover. The boy wondered how that was supposed to work as even he had trouble negotiating the compact tunnel littered with equipment. He reached the back of the driver’s seat and was barely able to sit up with his head against the ceiling. He looked past Hernandez’s shoulder at a monitor for a forward looking camera that showed Sarah at the gate removing a chain and padlock. The corporal hadn’t heard him clamber up the crawlspace and practically jumped out of her skin when he said “Hello.”

  “Hey, kid,” she greeted him after she regained her composure while her hands moved over the vehicle’s controls.

  “How long do you have to sit here?” he asked the woman.

  “Until they get back; two hours or so,” replied Hernandez, glancing back at the boy.

  “If you guys have to go out, can I come too?”

  She looked at Jeremy hard. “I don’t think so, kid.”

  “Why not? I’m good with my gun.” He patted the Sig rifle strapped to his chest.

  “That’s what I heard.” She smiled at him finally. “Look, kid, the plan I was briefed on didn’t have you anywhere in it. I have to follow orders too, you know.”

  “Shavers didn’t say I couldn’t go did he?”

  Hernandez sighed. “No, kid, he didn’t.”

  “You’re in command of the Stryker today aren’t you?”

  She smiled again. “And your point is?”

  “The First Sergeant didn’t tell you I couldn’t go. You know I can shoot. If you’re in charge you can let me stay on board.” She laughed. “You got some cajones, kid. We’ll see.” She grew silent as she listened to something in her headset and held up her hand for Jeremy to remain quiet.

  “It’s ten hundred hours and the lookouts just gave the all clear. The mission is a go.”

  Jeremy watched on the screen while Sarah slid open the gate and the two vehicle procession rolled out, turned left onto a two-lane blacktop road, and rumbled out of sight around a small lake. The gate was slammed shut and re-chained within moments of the Humvee clearing it.

  Chapter Seven

  Lamar surveyed the road ahead of him through the dirty windshield of the Escalade. He sat on the berm of Interstate 66 slightly west of Haymarket, Virginia. His black Cadillac was the lead in a procession of six vehicles. They sat in a line behind the Escalade, a variety of late model high-end vehicles with their engines idling while Lamar decided how he was going to get around a jumbled wreck of cars piled about the mangled remains of a tractor trailer. The crash had blocked all three lanes of the road ahead of them, including the grassy berm. It must have happened during the morning rush on that day over three months ago. The twisted wreckage was burned and rusted and had caused a river of cars to become dammed up behind them. The battered cars and trucks had sat that way ever since; the skeletal corpses of the victims still tangled within the blackened and contorted metal and shattered glass.

  The convoy had been
driving up the highway berm, trying to edge past the eternal traffic jam onto the relatively vehicle free roadway beyond the pile-up. Now their path was blocked entirely.

  “Wut da fuck we gonna do now, nigga?” demanded the passenger beside him.

  “Ah tol’ you keep your grill shut while I’s thinkin” Lamar snapped back. He leaned forward over the steering wheel to observe the mess before them.

  The other gangster, known as 2-Stroke, glared at him menacingly, however, he kept his mouth shut. They had already gone to the mat to determine the pecking order here and he knew better than to challenge the big man again.

  When they had entered the roadblock into the Escalade’s GPS unit, it had recalculated their route and was telling them to ‘turn around when possible’ and take an exit that would lead them through Haymarket. Lamar, who his crew called Juicy-Juice, didn’t like the idea of going through another town, especially one that would be loaded with the creepy-creeps.

  “How long we gonna be hangin here fo, JJ?” his sister asked from the back. “Jus use yo chrome-ass ride to push through dem rusty-ass cars, foo!”

  He turned in his seat as if he were going to reach back and slap her. “Bitch, ah ain’ gonna mess-up mah Caddy! You need to put a twinkie in yo mouth or sumtin.”

  His mind went back to the problem at hand. He needed to figure out how to get his crew on the other side of that mess. Lamar gripped the steering wheel hard causing the large muscles in his arms to bulge. Ever since he had made the decision to move his ragtag crew of gangsters out of Dirty City, things seemed to keep going from bad to worse. Those things out there had no fear. They’d come right at you and fade your ass if you didn’t stop them. He had lost several new jacks and a vehicle to attacks by the creepy-creeps and now this shit. His crew was down to fifteen, including the motherfucking B-H Blood next to him. He never thought in all his days he would ever be hanging ‘n banging with a Bounty Hunter.

  No Grape Street Watts Crip eva be caught alive kickin it with any Blood. C’s up, B’s down! Since da creepy-creeps be out ‘n about now, the enemy of my enemy n all dat shit.