He laughed, glad to have cheered her up. “Glad you took advantage of that one, because they aren’t always going to be softballs.”
She grinned deviously, and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
“I’m going to go get this thing started up,” Freeman said, and turned towards the front of the truck.
She nodded. “Good call.”
Frank stood at the top of the ladder as Sergeant Lambert strode towards he and Bill.
“Sergeant, thank you for coming up,” Frank said, extending his hand.
Lambert shook it and nodded. “Yes, sir. How can I help?”
“We’re going on a rescue mission, and in my absence Bill is in complete control of this facility,” the Captain instructed. “I know it’s a military operation, but things need to get done and he knows what they are. You are to support him with whatever he needs.”
Lambert saluted. “Understood, sir.”
“If we are gone more than forty-eight hours, it means we probably aren’t coming back,” Frank continued. “If that happens, your orders are to contact D.C. and let them make the judgment call from there.”
“Yes sir,” the Sergeant agreed. “There won’t be any power play on my part. We’re in this together.”
The Captain nodded, putting a hand on his comrade’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Lambert. I’m glad they picked you for this assignment.”
“Thank you, sir,” the Sergeant replied, and stepped back as Frank turned to Bill.
“What’s the word on the building?” he asked.
“They’re still trying to pinpoint it, but said for you to head up to Tryon Street and they’ll talk you in from there,” Bill replied.
“Thanks,” Frank replied, and took a deep breath. “We’ll be in touch.”
He slipped over the edge onto the rope ladder, climbing down and landing hard on the roof of the transport truck. He ignored the sea of zombies, walking to the hatch in pure business mode. He dropped into the cab and secured the top hatch before getting comfortable in the passenger seat.
“All right, Freeman,” the Captain began, “once you get out of the front gate, we’re hanging a left on Tryon. And let’s take it slow, because they’re still working on the building ID.”
Freeman grinned as he put the truck in gear, corpses crunching under the weight of the tires as he crawled forward. “Nothing like a leisurely drive to the city.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Man, there’s a whole lotta nothin’ out here,” Coleman said as he gazed out over the rural farmland of eastern North Carolina.
Terrell nodded as he studied a farm below them, a faded red barn crumpled to the dirt. “There’s a couple of small towns, but that’s about it.”
“Exactly,” the Corporal replied. “You’d figure that with the small towns we’d see some signs of life, or at least some zombies milling about. But there’s just nothing.”
The Captain nodded thoughtfully. The gas light flashed furiously, and he sighed. “Well, looks like we get to see first hand if it really is a whole lot of nothing out there.”
“Where do you want me to set it down at?” Coleman asked. “Figure we have about five more minutes of flight time before we’re not gonna have a choice in the matter.”
Terrell pulled out a pair of binoculars and looked across the horizon. There was a cluster of buildings in the distance that looked like it could be a small town.
He pointed in that direction. “Looks like there’s something resembling civilization a few miles that way,” he instructed. “Let’s set it down short of town and we’ll hike in.”
“You got it, Captain,” Coleman replied and flew to an empty field with a line of trees on one side. He gracefully lowered to the grass, leaving as much open space around them as he could. He powered everything off and the blades slowed as he and his comrade popped out of the cab with their weapons at the ready.
They swept their surroundings, squinting in the sunlight, and then relaxed as they met around the back of the chopper.
“What do you know, looks like you were right,” Terrell said good-naturedly. “Ain’t nothing around here.”
As if on cue, a single high-powered rifle shot cracked through the air, and they ducked before realizing it was too far away to be meant for them.
“You were saying there, Cap?” Coleman asked.
Terrell chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, learned my lesson. Last time I give you any sort of praise.”
“What do you think,” the Corporal mused, “you wanna check it out?”
“Well, it’s either that or sleep in a field tonight, because that’s about the only bit of civilization I saw,” Terrell replied.
Coleman held out his arm. “All right lead the way.”
They moved towards the tree line in defensive position, and upon pushing through the wooded area, saw a big box discount store. There were a few dozen corpses scattered around the parking lot, but there was no movement that could be seen.
“Up for a little shopping?” Terrell asked.
Coleman nodded. “Seeing as how we didn’t pack any food or water, it might be a prudent thing to do.”
They kept their guard up as they slowly moved into the parking lot, finding the lack of movement not exactly reassuring due to the recent gunfire. When they reached the front door, Terrell led the way inside, everything remarkably intact considering the apocalypse.
There were a few knocked over display and a blood streak here and there, the power completely out, but for the most part everything seemed still together. The bulk of the store was darkened aside from the occasional ray of sunlight peeking through the odd skylights here and there in the ceiling.
They froze at the sound of shattering glass.
“Be careful with those!” a stern male voice barked.
Terrell silently motioned for Coleman to follow him towards the noise. They moved down a mostly stripped bare aisle towards what looked like a flickering flashlight moving around. As they approached the end, an African-American teenager strolled around the corner and stopped dead, eyes widening in fear.
“Easy now kid,” Terrell said when he realized how young their opponent was, “we ain’t gonna hurt you.”
The kid turned on his heel and sprinted back the way he’d come, towards the lit up area.
“They’re here! They’re here!” he screamed.
Terrell shook his head. “Shit.”
The duo raised their guns again and turned the corner to see a group of civilians loading up several shopping carts. They were mostly younger, late teens to early twenties, but there was an elderly couple as well. They all had ragged, torn clothes, and one rifle between all of them. But it was propped in a cart and pointed at the ceiling.
“Please,” the old man rasped, “just take whatever you want. We won’t put up a fight.”
Terrell relaxed. “Relax there old timer, we ain’t taking your stuff.”
“Although if you have a couple bottles of water, we’d be very appreciative,” Coleman added, lowering his weapon.
The old man looked them up and down and then nodded in approval, motioning to the young teenager that had initially spotted them in the aisle. “Walter, get these men some water.”
The kid chewed his lower lip with nervousness. “But Mister Hoyt, they could be-”
“Walter, do as I say,” the old man snapped. “I think these men are here to help.”
Walter shook his head in frustration, but followed the instructions, gathering up a few bottles of water. He stepped forward tentatively, keeping his eyes downcast, and held them out. Terrell took the bottles but grabbed the kid’s wrist, kneeling down to look him in the eye.
“Walter,” he said firmly, making sure the kid was looking at him, “from now on, I want you to look people in the eye. Never let them think they’re above you.”
The kid nodded jerkily. “Yes… yes sir.”
The Captain stood up as Walter rejoined his group, and turned to the o
ld man. “All right, Mister Hoyt, why don’t you give us a lay of the land? Who did young Walter here think we were?”
“Please sir, just call me Hoyt,” the old man insisted.
“All right,” Terrell agreed, “I’m Terrell and this is Coleman.”
“It’s a pleasure, sirs,” Hoyt replied with a slight incline of his head. “This is my wife Edna, and that’s Walter, Ruth, Clara and Henry. We’re part of a group that took up residence in Clinton, which is about three miles up the road. Rather than have us stay at the farms all around the area, Xavier came around and collected us. He felt like there was strength in numbers.”
“So, what are y’all doing all the way out here?” Terrell furrowed his brow.
The old man held up a mason jar. “We were running low on canning supplies. This is the only big store in the immediate vicinity so we risked coming out.”
“So what were y’all shooting at earlier?” Coleman asked. “Get surprised by a zombie?”
Hoyt pursed his lips before responding, “I’m afraid that wasn’t us, sir.”
Terrell shot the Corporal a concerned glance. “Has somebody been bothering y’all?”
“Yes sir, but I believe Xavier will be able to explain the situation better,” the old man replied. “If you don’t mind coming into town with us, I’m sure he’d be happy to have you.”
“What do you think, Coleman?” the Captain asked his comrade.
“Pretty sure they’re making some fried chicken for dinner tonight, too,” Hoyt added.
Coleman grinned. “I think we have our answer.”
A trio of gunshots rang out, and the civilians all immediately ducked behind Hoyt, who fumbled with his rifle.
Terrell held up a hand to stop him. “I think you’d better let us handle this,” he said, and took up a defensive stance as the old man nodded. “Coleman, aisle six.”
“You got it, Cap,” the Corporal replied and rushed off down the darkened aisle that ran parallel to the group’s but still away from the front door.
Hoots and hollers echoed throughout the store, another shot piercing the air. Terrell stood his ground about ten feet in front of the group, arms crossed and assault rifle slung across his back. A tall and muscular man wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves torn off strolled out of the darkness with a shotgun in his hands.
“Hey boys, they’re over here!” he drawled, grinning to show off more than a few missing teeth. “Oh yeah, we’re gonna have some fun with y’all.”
Terrell smirked. “I would genuinely like to see you try.”
The redneck clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes as he stopped a few feet away from the Captain. “Oh, looks like we got one of them tough brothers, here. Tell me boy, what do you think you’re gonna be able to do to me?”
Terrell looked his opponent up and down before smiling. “Well, my initial thought was to shove that shotgun up your ass.” He shrugged. “But then I realized that you were a backcountry hillbilly and would probably enjoy that.”
The redneck snarled and raised his gun, but the Captain lashed out and blocked it, punching his opponent in the throat. The redneck dropped to one knee, struggling for air, and Terrell rammed his knee into the guy’s gasping face.
He picked up the shotgun as the man collapsed into a blubbering mess on the floor, and pointed it at the redneck’s head as his four buddies approached from the darkness.
“Wouldn’t be the wisest move you could make,” the Captain warned.
The men kept their guns pointed at the floor, and a slightly overweight one put his rifle on the floor and raised his hands, stepping forward.
“OK now mister, let’s not do anything crazy here,” he cooed.
Terrell snorted. “Would have been great if you had instilled that sentiment in your boy here.”
“Now, I ain’t gonna make any excuses for ol’ Andrew there,” the man admitted. “Boy’s got a shorter fuse than a bootleg firecracker. But I’m a little more laid back than he is. Now my name’s Ralph, what’s yours?”
“You can call me Terrell.”
“All right now, Terrell,” Ralph continued, “why don’t you just let my friend there go and we’ll just pretend this little misunderstanding didn’t happen?”
“Hey, Hoyt,” the Captain asked over his shoulder, “these some of the people who been bothering you?”
The old man nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir.”
“I got a counter offer for you, Ralph,” Terrell declared. “I’m gonna let your boy here go, provided you explain to me why you’re hassling these poor folks. What do you say, we got a deal?”
Ralph nodded. “OK, I can do that.”
Andrew started to crawl back to his friends, but Terrell stamped down on his shoulder with his boot, preventing his movement. “Now, one more thing,” he said, “just for my own personal comfort. What do you say we deescalate the situation a bit? Maybe secure our weapons.”
Ralph turned and waved to his crew, and they slung their rifles onto their backs. Terrell let go of Andrew and he slithered back to his friends.
“Now, you gonna honor our disarmament agreement, there?” Ralph asked, motioning to the shotgun.
Terrell looked at it and shrugged, then laid it on the ground beside him. “Now, fair is fair after all. Now why don’t you come over here and explain to me why you’re bothering these nice folks.”
The redneck took a deep breath. “Well you see, Terrell-”
“Nah, Ralph.” The Captain put up a hand to stop him. “This feels like a man to man conversation to me. Why don’t you come over here and explain it to me privately instead of announcing it to the world?” The redneck hesitated, glancing back at Andrew’s bleeding face. “Come on now, I don’t bite.”
Ralph nodded to his buddies, and then approached the Captain until they were at arm’s length.
Terrell lowered his voice. “Now, what’s your problem with these people?”
“Well, as I’m sure you are well aware, things have taken a turn for the worse in the last couple of days,” Ralph replied, matching his quiet demeanor. “And without going into too many specifics, they have some things in town that my friends and I require.”
“So that’s it, then?” Terrell raised an eyebrow. “You want to rob these people?”
The redneck scoffed. “Not a matter of wanting to, it’s needing to.”
“Y’all look like you can handle yourselves pretty well, at least against most obstacles,” the Captain mused. “Why aren’t you out there fending for yourselves instead of trying to take from people who are clearly not as strong as you?”
“Look, it’s nothing personal.” Ralph put his hands up. “Just survival of the fittest.”
Terrell shook his head. “Hm. Survival of the fittest. That’s your reasoning?”
“Yes sir, it’s as simple as that,” the redneck replied with a smile.
“Well, it is what it is, I suppose,” the Captain said with a sigh. “Now, what are we going to do about our little standoff here?”
Ralph shrugged. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, we can head our separate ways for the day. Although just a bit of friendly advice since it looks like you’re just passing through. If you’re staying in town tonight, you may wanna get an early start towards your destination tomorrow.”
“Putting your survival of the fittest into practice?” Terrell raised an eyebrow.
The redneck cocked his head. “Not my call to make, however… if I were a betting man…”
“I tell you what, you seem like a man of your word,” the Captain said. “Why don’t we shake on a truce for the day?”
Ralph looked at the Captain’s outstretched hand, and then back at his face. He finally nodded and took it. “Truce it is.”
Terrell yanked his arm and then chopped down with his free hand to break his elbow. He wrenched the shattered arm behind Ralph’s back, his captive shrieking in pain as he became a human shield.
The trio moved to grab their guns, but Coleman emerg
ed from the shadows behind them, a gun in each hand. “Oh, please, please keep moving,” he said.
The rednecks quickly let go of their weapons, raising their hands.
Terrell lowered his mouth to Ralph’s ear, snarling as the redneck whimpered. “Do I look fit enough for you, motherfucker?” he asked, pleased as his charge nodded and sputtered in the affirmative. “Hoyt, if you’d be so kind as to collect the weapons and ammo from our guests,” the Captain directed. “Just be mindful of the potential blood splatter should any of them try to do anything other than remain perfectly still.”
“Yes, sir,” Hoyt replied and quickly collected the weapons. The rednecks didn’t move a muscle with Coleman stationed behind them. Once he was clear and the rifles were in the cart, Terrell gave Ralph’s arm one more violent tweak before kicking him towards his friends.
He drew his sidearm and pointed it at the redneck’s head. “You know Ralph, I’ve thought about what you said, and I feel obliged to give you a bit of personal info,” Terrell said, as conversational as if he were talking about the weather. “I’m kind of a fan of sleeping in, so you may want to pass that long to whoever you see fit. I get the sense that information might impact your morning activities.”
Ralph grimaced as one of his buddies helped him to his feet, and they turned to leave.
“Hold up a sec,” Terrell piped up, and looked to Walter. “You got any bandages in that cart?”
The kid rummaged and picked up a roll of gauze. “Yes sir,” he replied.
“Would you please toss it over to our injured friend?” The Captain motioned to the seething redneck. “I wouldn’t want him thinking that was something personal.”
Walter tossed the gauze to the group, and Andrew picked it up, glaring daggers at them.
“Coleman, please see our friends here get where they’re going,” Terrell instructed as they passed the Corporal.
Coleman grinned. “Oh, I’ll make sure they remember where they parked.” He followed the rednecks out of the store at gunpoint, and Terrell bent down to pick up the shotgun he’d set on the tile. He strode over and set it in Hoyt’s shopping cart, letting out a deep breath as he addressed the old man.
Dead America The First Week (Book 3): Carolina Front Page 3