“What’d I miss?” I asked, sliding into a chair.
“Wells was telling us about a DWI arrest he made,” said Southard.
“So, what’s up next?” asked Spec-4.
“Four officers trapped in a restaurant out on the south side of town. Any volunteers?”
They all chimed in with a chorus of “Me’s”, “Right here’s” and even one “Hell, yeah!” The last one was from Sanders. All of the Fair Grove Officers had chimed in, even the wounded one. I ran through the list of names in my head, not wanting to call him something stupid like Gunshot. Then I remembered that Patterson was his name.
“Sorry, Patterson,” I said. “You’re still on the mend. Thanks for the offer, though.”
Patterson didn’t look happy, but didn’t complain.
“So how many of us are you planning on taking with you?” asked Spec-4.
“Hell, I’d like to take everyone. We have four officers trapped by an unknown number of zombies. We just don’t have the room, and I’m not taking the bus. It’s too hard to get it through tight spots.”
“How do you plan to fit seven of us into one Humvee and still have room for the officers we’re supposed to rescue?” asked Sanders.
“Easy,” I replied, grinning. “We’re not. I’m planning on leaving the two of you behind.”
I was gesturing at Sanders and Southard. Sanders just grinned and Southard flipped me off.
“Seriously,” said Southard. “How are we planning on bringing someone back?”
“If I remember correctly,” I said. “There should be two Humvees parked on the square. We’ll take one or both of them.”
“Why not take our good Humvee and take a vehicle we don’t want back,” said Sanders. “We can leave any of the patrol vehicles on the square and not give a crap. Those Humvees are worth their weight in gold.”
“That’s a good plan,” said Spec-4. “We should ditch one of the vehicles that are starting to clutter up intake.”
“Ok, then,” I said. “Everyone but Patterson goes on this trip.”
That met with a chorus of cheers.
“Listen up, though,” I said, pointing at the Fair Grove guys. “When we’re in the field, you guys follow my lead. We’ve done this a few times now, and we’re getting a pretty good feel for it. Ok?”
“No problem, Wylie,” said Wells. “You’re good, in our book. We’re not like that bitch, Wright. You saved our asses. If it weren’t for you, we’d be zombies.”
“Thanks, guys,” I said. “Let’s get going then. Grab your gear and guns, load up and be at the Release door in fifteen minutes.”
I headed for my office/bedroom and started going through my gear. I reloaded all of my weapons and topped off the ammo supply. I don’t know why, but I buckled on the big Army Colt. I considered giving it to Daniels, but thought better of it. I wanted to keep it for myself. Besides, the Sheriff had told me to pass on the badge. He didn’t say anything about the pistol. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my cell phone on the charger. Even though I figured it would be a moot point, I grabbed it off the charger and shoved it into one of the pockets on my vest.
Then my cell phone rang. I was so surprised that I almost dropped the phone trying to get it out of my pocket. The caller ID showed that it was coming from my wife’s phone. My heart stopped beating for just a second. I had been trying for days to get through, and now here it was ringing in my hand. I pushed the button to talk.
“Hello?”
“Wylie!” my wife almost shouted. “Thank God!”
“It’s ok, babe,” I said. “Is everyone there alright?”
“Yeah, but we’ve seen some of them on the shore. Yesterday, a zombie drifted by on a bass boat. It never got very close to us. When it stood up, Elliot shot it.”
“Good for him. Did it stay down?”
“It went into the water and sank like a stone.”
“Where did he hit it?”
“I think it was the face,” she replied.
“Good. Maybe it’ll stay down.”
“Wylie?” she said, concern in her voice. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine, hon,” I said, mostly telling the truth.
“I know that tone, Wylie. You sound tired.”
“I am. I’ve been busy these past few days. I’ll be ok.”
“I’m scared,” she said. “We all are. When are you coming back to us?”
“Soon, babe, I promise.”
“How bad is it there?”
“It’s bad. Worse than I can describe.”
“Will you be able to come for us?” she asked, worry in her voice.
“Honey, no amount of zombies on Earth will keep me from coming for you.”
“I love you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
I could tell she was fighting hard not to cry.
“I love you, too,” I said. “Let me talk to the boys before I lose signal.”
I got to talk to all three of my sons. They were scared, but doing fine. Words can’t express how happy I was to hear that. I was thrilled to hear they had the dogs with them, too. I couldn’t stand the thought of those things attacking my dogs. After I told my boys how much I loved them, I asked to speak to Karen again. She’d barely returned when I lost the signal.
“Damn it!”
I tried to call her back, but there was nothing. No carrier signal at all. At least I knew that they were safe, at the moment. I promised myself that I was going for them, soon. What I couldn’t decide was whether to bring them back here or try to find another place, altogether. I didn’t have time to think about it, right now. I had work to do.
I shouldered my pack and picked up Spec-4’s, as well. Then I headed out of my office towards the Release door. Spec-4 was already there. I handed her pack to her and she slipped one arm through the strap and slung it over her shoulder. In exchange, she handed me a cup of Booking Sludge, I mean, coffee. I took a long sip and grimaced. It was worse than usual.
“Where are Chip and Dale, plus Huey, Dewey and Louie?”
“Hitting the latrine, then grabbing their packs. They should be here in a minute.”
“We’ll wait for them,” I said. “I’ll hand out vehicle assignments when they get here.”
“So, when’d you get demoted to Sergeant?”
“I did it myself. Daniels is a better choice, anyway. Let him deal with the politics. I’m a field grunt, not in the rear with the gear.”
We didn’t have to wait for long. It was only a couple of minutes before they all came through the sliders carrying gear bags, guns and wearing body armor. It was an odd assortment. Sanders, Spec-4 and I were all wearing Interceptor vests. Southard was wearing tactical armor from our armory and the Fair Grove boys were wearing their riot armor. We looked like a poster for a bad video game.
At least we were all wearing the same uniform, now. The Fair Grove guys had traded in their blue uniforms for some of our black jail BDU’s that we had in the Security Office. I’d given Spec-4 a set of our black BDU’s the night before. Even Southard was wearing black, again.
“Looking good, boys,” I said. “Chuck, it’s good to see you back in the right uniform.”
“It’s weird, but it feels good to be back in black,” replied Southard.
“Alright boys, here’s the plan. We’re going to take our one good Humvee and one of the Patrol Cruisers. We’ll leave the cruiser behind and steal the other Humvees parked on the square.”
I brought up my M-16 and locked and loaded. Spec-4 did the same. Then I keyed up my radio.
“829 to roof security. Is the Intake area clear?”
“All clear, sir,” was the reply.
“Copy, cover the officers who are about to exit Release.”
I motioned for Ian Shane to come over from Booking. He trotted over and unlocked the Release doors with his emergency keys. Then I motioned to the three Fair Grove officers.
“You three go sweep the intake lot and get your car ready. I’ll
take the others with me. Meet us outside the gate and we’ll convoy. Make sure you stay behind us so we can clear you a path.”
“No problem,” said Wells. “We’ll link up outside the gate.”
With that, the three of them went out through Release and the rest of us headed for the back door. When we made it, I called Roof Security again.
“Is the back delivery area clear?”
“Affirmative, 829,” said the voice.
“Cover us. We’re heading out.”
“Didn’t you just get here, sir?” said the voice on the radio.
“Afraid so. No rest for the wicked.”
Spec-4 gave me a wry smile at that last comment. Then Shane keyed open the back door and we went out together. Spec 4 and I swung left while Southard and Sanders swung right. We swept the area, quickly.
“Clear,” I said.
“Clear,” she repeated.
“Clear,” chimed in Sanders and Southard.
With the formalities out of the way, we headed over to the good Humvee. We loaded our gear into the compartments between the seats. Then we gave the Humvee a quick check to look for damage. By the time we were done, Sanders and Southard had the back loaded with the rest of our gear. I glanced over at the other Humvee and saw that it was leaning to one side. The left front tire was flat.
“Are we good?” asked Sanders.
“Golden,” I replied.
We grabbed our gear and started to climb in when we heard something hit the back gate. We all spun at the same time, weapons ready. The gates were shaking. It struck again and the gates shook all over. We all headed over there, to investigate.
“Security, can you check the back gate?” asked Southard.
“Stand by,” said the officer. “I can’t see over the gate from here.”
I kept walking towards the gate, weapon ready to fire. Spec-4 was two paces to my right and Sanders was two to my left. Southard was bringing up the rear, and watching our backs. When I was within about ten feet, I saw movement through a gap. It was too big to be a dog. It had to be human. Well, human-ish.
I locked eyes with Spec-4 and motioned for her to stop and cover me. Then I repeated the command to Sanders. They both took up firing positions while I crept closer to the gate. I was moving in silently, trying to approach with as little noise as possible. My plan was to peek through the crack and try to get a look at whomever or whatever was outside that gate. I almost made it, too. Just as I was leaning my face close to the gate to peer through, my radio came to life.
“Security to 829,” said the radio. “Be advised, we are seeing movement on the far side of the gate.”
When the radio went off, all attempts at stealth went right out the window. With my face only inches from the crack, a hand slid through. The zombie outside the gate started shrieking, and I could see that the sharp edges of the gate had peeled skin and muscle off of the hand. The zombie kept trying to reach me anyway, undaunted by the loss of most of the flesh in its fingers.
While it continued to shriek, I stepped back quickly. My heart was beating about five times as fast as it was supposed to. That thing had scared the hell out of me. I could see its eye as it tried to peek through the gap. I brought up my M-16 and fired. The bullet clipped the edge of the gate, but still went through. The shrieking stopped instantly and I heard it fall to the ground.
“I hate Shriekers!” I snapped.
“Hey, Wylie,” said Southard. “You might want to check your shorts, while you’re at it.”
I gave him a dirty look and managed to resist the urge to flip him off.
“Yeah, kiss my a…”
“700 to 829,” interrupted the radio.
“Go ahead,” I snapped.
“Do you require assistance?”
“Negative. We have the situation well in hand. We’ll be on our way out in a few minutes. Can you fire up the generators long enough to open the gate?”
“Can do, 829.”
We all headed back to the Humvee and climbed in. Once inside, we secured the doors and I started the engine. Then I put it in gear and headed over to the gate.
“Are you sure you want to drive?” asked Southard.
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, you didn’t do so well with the last one,” said Southard. “You might want to take it easy, this time.”
This time I didn’t resist the urge. I flipped him off as I slowed to a stop, leaving room for the gates to swing open.
“Be happy this isn’t a patrol car with a cage,” I said to Southard, and locked up the brakes.
“You bastard,” said Southard, smiling. “If you ever smash my face into a cage, I’ll kick your ass.”
“Like you’ve never done it before,” I replied, laughing.
“Who? Me? Never,” he said, chuckling. “Well, never to an officer anyway.”
“What are you guys talking about?” asked Spec-4.
“It’s an old patrolman’s trick,” I said. “When you have an unruly subject in the back, and he’s handcuffed. You slam on the brakes and bounce them off the cage. It usually tends to quiet them down.”
“Shut up,” she said, grinning. “Really?”
“Yeah,” said Southard. “Shut up is what I usually say.”
“Does it work?” she asked.
“Like a charm,” said Southard.
“700, is the Delivery Gate clear?” I asked, into my mic.
“All clear, 829. Good luck.”
The gate started opening. As soon as the gate was open wide enough, I drove through and stopped just outside. I was blocking the gate while it shut. Once the gate rumbled shut, we continued on our way. I pulled out into the street and turned right, pointing south and stopped in the middle of the road. There were a few zombies scattered around the area, but nothing serious. A few seconds later, I saw the Fair Grove PD Cruiser turn out of the intake gate and pull right up behind us. I waved at them and continued on.
I turned right and headed for Boonville. I still had to pull up onto the curb to go around the wrecked SUV’s, but otherwise it was clear. At the intersection with the expressway, there were a few more zombies but they were too far away to cause us any trouble. I continued across the intersection and started down the hill towards the square.
A piece of local history hit me as we headed that way. I’m not sure why it popped into my head, but it did. Wild Bill Hickok had killed a man on this very square back in the late 1800’s. Shot him through the heart with an old revolver at something like 75 yards. That was a hell of a shot with a pistol, even today. I remembered the big revolver on my hip and wondered if I could repeat that shot. I sincerely doubted it without a tremendous amount of luck…and a scope. Maybe not even then.
Ragnarok Rising: The Awakening (Book One of The Ragnarok Rising Saga) Page 42