by Key, Thomas
It had been two days of grueling training. From physical, to mental, to tactical, they did it all. It had also been two days since Ken had seen Isabel. Granted, he was extremely exhausted and his time was currently occupied by his new career choice. Still, as time passed, he grew more and more concerned. After the third day, he went looking for her around the compound. She was not in her room, and was not in the mess hall. After three hours of fruitless searching, he ended up at the makeshift hospital. After asking around to the staff at the front desk, he realized she was not there either. He sat down heavily in one of the lobby chairs. She must be out on a mission, he thought to himself. He was just about to stand and head back to his bunk when he overheard another woman talking to the front desk. "Yes, I'm aware of that!" she nearly cried to the attendant. The woman was in her mid 30's, and looked like the perfect example of a soccer mom. She seemed fit and healthy. Her face, which he was sure had been previously generally happy and upbeat now was laced with concern and pain. "I'm looking for my son. I just need to know if you have brought back any kids from Albuquerque," she told the nurse behind the desk. The desk lady glanced down to the clipboard in her hand again. Fuck, life was unfortunate, Ken thought. Another grieving mother looking for her lost son. "We're looking through our records right now. Take a deep breath," the attendant told her calmly. The woman's tears were coming faster, and her sobbing picked up. "His name is Billy."
Chapter 31
Kenneth felt like he had been hit by a semi. Then possibly the trucker hit the brakes and reversed over his body a half dozen times, just for good measure. He must have heard wrong. He was tired, it was completely understandable. "Yes, Billy Garth. He's ten years old, blonde hair, with blue eyes!" Ken's face drained of all color. It was his worst nightmare, coming to fruition. He supposed that it was a continuation of this current living nightmare anyway. “Where was the last time anyone saw him?” The nurse asked as she looked through file after file. “He was a patient at Presbyterian hospital.” The nurse looked up at her, obviously taken aback. “I’m sorry, we don’t have anyone here from that hospital. It was one of the first overrun.” He dreaded it, but he knew what he had to do. With shaking legs, he slowly stood up. The woman was still in tears, and another of the nurses had come to console her, wrapping the woman up in her arms. He approached her wearily, as if in a daze. The nurse looked at him, confused. "Ma'am?" Ken asked her quietly. She turned, pulling her hands away from her face, wiping the tears away. "Yes?" she sniffed as she looked into his eyes. "I'm sorry. I truly am," he stammered out. "I believe that your son is dead." The woman began to shake her head. Slowly at first, but picking up pace as the tears began to flow again. "How would you know that?" the nurse asked him. "I had to kill him," he responded as his own tears began to fall. "I am so sorry ma'am." The woman began to punch his chest with all of her might, but he didn't care. The bruises on his body would never match those of his soul. "He was my only child.... you bastard..." If in any small way it helped her calm her pain, it was the least that he could do. Eventually, her blows became weak and the three of them stood in the hospital lobby crying and in a tight embrace. "Was he one of them?" she asked quietly through her sobs. "He was bitten," Ken said, his own sobs nearly matching hers. "He died peacefully, I swear to you. He didn't feel a thing," he said to her. Another nurse arrived and escorted the mother to another room. Kenneth watched them go. Although he knew the scars of what happened would never disappear, he felt just a hair better after all of this. Billy's mother would not have to sit and wonder where he was. He was in a better place, and of that Ken was absolutely sure.
After his fruitless search for Bella, and his emotional incident at the hospital, he went back to his room. He fell heavily into his bed, the day having clearly worn on him. As he drifted off to sleep, the remembrance of that night hit him full force. As he tossed and turned, with sweat pouring off of his body, he dreamt every moment of that horrible night. The sights, the smells, the fear, and yes... the absolute sadness of the event. It was more than once that he woke up crying alone in his room. Yet, every time he fell back asleep, he was haunted by that innocent boy, Billy. He hoped he and God would forgive him for what he did. Until his time came through, and until he arrived at those pearly gates, he would never know if he had been forgiven or not. The saying 'hope for the best, and expect the worst' rang in his head as he once again drifted off into the abyss of sleep.
Out of the darkness, Ken awoke. Startled awake was much more accurate. He damn near rolled off of the bed. An alarm was wailing outside. He heard doors opening and slamming shut all through his hallway. Since the first few days of arriving at base, they were drilled for what to do when this alarm began going off. It was the general alert alarm, meaning that a serious attack, or incident has happened. Everyone in his residential building rushed to the assigned location. By this time, he could once again hear gunfire in the direction of the fence line. This sounded much heavier though, as if higher caliber weapons were firing. The thump thump thump of a Humvee mounted machine gun was his best bet, he figured. The night’s events at the hospital, his nightmares and everything else was quickly put aside as he dressed and ran for the exit.
In the parade grounds, dozens of civilians had already arrived before him. The soldiers began handing out M4 Carbines and Beretta 9mm pistols. Oh shit, he thought. They've never actually handed out live firearms before. After receiving the weapons, they were divided up into four teams, one for each fence line. Ken was on the westernmost fence line. As he arrived, he saw Airmen and soldiers, firing into a mass of infected heading directly towards the base. The compound began to light up like a Christmas tree, with bright spot lights showing the horde all around them. The firing intensified, with Ken getting multiple head shots. He got as close to the front line as he could. Sandbags were setup to support the fence and he was pressed up against them, using them to steady his aim. To his right, matching him shot for shot was a short, petite woman soldier with bleach blonde hair and a fiery disposition. After every headshot, she'd yell out in one way or another. Kenneth heard her say, "Fuck you.. and fuck you," as she popped heads from bodies. He took a moment to look at her fatigues, and on her chest, written on 100mph tape was the name, Atencio. Half of Ken just wanted to scoot over, as he heard crazy was catching. He realized though, that she was using the attitude to pump herself up. Ken knew you could override fear with bravado in situations like this. The group directly in front of them finally reached the fence, and dozens of boney, rotting hands grasped the chain link fence. Ken's rifle clicked empty, he ejected the magazine and while switching it out, saw the soldier walk right up to the fence and start firing point blank into the heads of the infected. She didn't so much as flinch as she pulled the trigger time and time again. Not to be outdone, Kenneth joined her and did the same. She nodded, with a grin of satisfaction as together, they made the infected pay for every inch with blood.
He then heard a sound that he had not heard ever before in his life. It sounded like an electric whirring, but he knew it was a weapon of some kind. It was too loud to be anything else. At an unbelievable rate, rounds were pouring from the barrel of an M134 Gatling gun. Another soldier off to Ken's left shouted, "Fuck yea! Tear them up!" The base had 6 of these, with four mounted on Blackhawks for fire support. They fired 7.62 caliber rounds at a breathtaking 2,000 - 6,000 rounds per minute. It was a beauty to behold, and even Ken felt like cheering. The weapon was literally shredding the skin and bones of the horde. Between the technology and their rifle fire, the horde slowed, and then began to falter. The walkers were down to a couple of dozen. After another few moments, all that was left was piles of bodies. None of the infected had reached the fence line. A loud 'Hooah" arose from the soldiers nearby. Civilians all around him also yelled out in victorious cheer. It felt damn good to fight those things off. The fire inside of him started to die though once he realized that the whole compound would be on cleanup duty. Near a thousand corpses was going to make for a long ass night.
Cleanup duty was like a party.. alright no, it was nowhere near it. It was absolutely disgusting, back breaking work. It was also a necessary evil. They couldn't leave the bodies for later. The heat of the New Mexico desert would make them pay for every dead body left in the sun. The showers would run all night tonight, as people would no doubt be scrubbing the death off of them. He helped pickup another corpse and throw it into the back of an awaiting pickup truck. Every so often, a twitcher or just some zombie paralyzed in some way but not dead needed dispatching. Their pistols made short work of that job. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. At first, the fear of a walker caused his adrenaline to spike. Then he saw that it was the woman from the hospital. The mother of Billy. She saw him, and he saw her. His gaze dropped and he hefted the body inside the truck. When he turned back to her, she was gone. He reached down for another body as he heard the shaking voice of the woman from behind him. "Stop," she said. Ken did just that. He turned around slowly, feeling the fear in her voice. As he stopped turning, she was standing before him, with a pistol pointed squarely at his chest. He realized though that it was not fear that he had heard in her voice. It was anger. "You took my son from me," she said accusingly. "Ma'am, he was bitten. There's nothing anyone could do for him." She shook her head violently. "I could have made him better!" she screamed. The drama before him had now drawn a crowd. Shocked onlookers created a loose circle around the two, as all work stopped. "I'm so sorry for your loss. But this isn't the right thing to do, and you know it," Ken spoke back, in barely more than a whisper. "He was the only thing left in my world, and you stole him from me." The pistol was wavering before him. "Put the gun down!" someone said from behind her. Kenneth saw an airman holding his rifle and aiming it at the woman. The pistol began to move every which way as tears once again racked her body. "I'm already dead," she said to Kenneth as her eyes fixed on his through her tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him as she pulled the trigger.
Chapter 32
Although my goal had been to get some kind of rest before our next leg of the journey we drove in silence for half of an hour, both of us completely lost in our own minds. I had resumed my spot in the driver seat. Holding the steering wheel and being alert for danger had let me keep at least some of my mind off of what had just transpired. The thought that kept coming to mind for me, was what kind of evil being would do that to someone? I can't even say evil people as that makes the rest of humankind look not just bad, but pathetic. Those poor people had died of dehydration or worse. They had to have gone up recently, as the zombie horde would have steamrolled them otherwise. That meant that these evil sons of bitches were relatively close. We were still on the road and only two hours from our destination, Cannon AFB. I felt like I had aged decades in the past few days. On the interstate, we began to see signs for the small town of Cuervo. I sat up straighter in my seat as I drove, pointing to one of the now outdated 'food here' signs. "Should we check it out?" I asked him, looking at our dwindling fuel gauge. It was just about at empty. He nodded slowly, not speaking. I began to slow the hummer and hit the turn signal, which in turn caused my partner in crime to actually turn and look me in the eye. "Really?" he asked with unabashed dumbfoundedness. "Sorry, force of habit," I told him as I turned off the blinker and made the exit. Just before we made it down the decline to the bottom of the off ramp, I caught movement in the corner of my eye. I stopped, and reversed back up the ramp to the interstate. Looking out the back window, I could definitely see headlights barreling our direction at high speed.
Rodriguez was also peering out the rear window now. "Do you think they're looking for us?" he asked. "Well, we did leave a dead guy back at that gas station." The Guardsman swore and I made the decision. We needed to evade, just in case. Hope for the best, but plan for the worst. I drove down the ramp and surveyed the area. Dirt was all that came to mind when I try to describe this location. I made a left onto a dirt road and I could literally see the entire town. I use the term town very loosely here. Settlement might even have been too liberal of a term. Derelict buildings littered the area. "This isn't good," I told my passenger. "We've got to hide," I said as we drove along. We drove by a church, and he pointed. "That looks like the only defensible building here," he said. I put the hummer into reverse and pulled up in front of the building and began to look for a place to stash it. There were a few old dilapidated buildings surrounding the old looking church building. One was absolutely covered by graffiti. The church oddly was completely clean though. A portion of the fence on the left was torn down. It could have been from another vehicle, or even worse, a group of infected. Either way, it was the only spot worthy of hiding a big ass hummer. I drove over the old wooden fence along the side of the building, nearly destroying the passenger mirror in the process. Behind the church, there was just enough room in the dirt lot. We made a dash for the entrance of the church. Along the main road leading to the church, a dozen cars or so were parked in a neat and tidy line, most likely never to be driven again. One thing that I had noticed though was the vehicles were much cleaner than most that had been sitting out in the elements lately. The old wooden door was no match for two steel toed boots and all of the force that we could muster and we burst into the doors and slammed them behind us.
Immediately, we were hit with a stench that I can't even bear to attempt to describe. We both gagged and turned with our backs to the door that unfortunately was now barely holding on to its hinges. It was pitch dark inside and once again, I left my freaking flashlight. Luckily, the Boy Scout next to me was far more prepared and lit his torch. By torch, I mean flashlight by the way. I didn’t know people called it that until he explained it to me during the previous car ride. The more you know, you know. What I saw before me reminded me of what I had imagined a slaughter house would look like back in the day. There were dozens of bodies lying on the floor, on the bench seats and one even bent over the alter. It was a hellish scene. We began to walk down the single aisle, with his flashlight guiding us. More than once, I felt my shoes slip and slide as we walked. The light splayed over the bodies, which had obviously been torn apart and eaten. The blood appeared to be relatively fresh, as in not completely dry, but close. Near many of the bodies was at least one holy bible, whether they were laying on the benches or nearby at the corpse’s feet. "Oh fuck," I whispered quietly to myself. As we neared the blood-stained altar of the Lord, I was leaning over to view the dead man when we heard it. The sound of a truck engine was nearing. Rodriguez rushed back to the door and peeked out. "It's the same truck from the gas station," he whispered to me. "It's slowing down and coming into town." Without the flashlight, I was literally in the dark about my surroundings. I could hear the truck getting closer and closer and I was no longer straining to hear it. With my eyes firmly planted on the door, I did not hear, nor obviously see the alter man move. I didn't notice in the slightest until I felt a hand grasp my forehead as it began to tilt my head back, trying to reach my jugular from behind me. I immediately kicked out, hitting it square in the testicles. As with my earlier attempt, there was not even a slight reaction. Okay, well, not other than my own junk crawling up inside me in fear. I shoved back with my shoulder, pushing the infected off balance. He began to fall, holding onto me tightly, as if I were the very last choir boy up for grabs. For the very first time, I ended up on top of a dead man. I didn't much like it, considering not only was he trying to bite my face off, but he was also a priest. Having a priest trying to eat me was absolutely freaky as fuck. As I felt his mouth get very near to my stomach, I pulled my pistol and fired one shot into his disease riddled head.
Once the ringing stopped and much to my chagrin, I heard the truck outside come to an immediate halt. "Fuck!" I heard Rodriguez curse as he closed the doors completely. "Two men incoming," he said. I realized pretty quick that I should stop straddling the dead priest and find some cover. Rodriguez was able to duck behind a wall that led most likely to a basement as I searched and searched but w
as unable to find my own suitable hiding spot. I got behind the saviors alter and tried to make myself as compact as possible. This was a tiny fucking church and it would only take a couple of minutes for them to do a thorough search. Sure enough, we heard the doors squeak open. "I heard it from in here," one voice said. As I peeked around the alter, I saw two men enter. One was a heavy set, good ole boy and the other was a tall, skinny older man. As I peered closer, it was definitely the same man from the gas station. They both were armed with shotguns and they began to search the church. Luckily, they did not see the steps to the basement and walked right past them. Unluckily for me, however, they were heading straight my way. "This is fucked up," the big one said. "Our friends were just minding their business praying to Jesus when that damn horde got em." I didn't think I could feel worse than I had just a moment ago. We were literally completely responsible for unleashing that horde and all of these deaths were on our hands. We quite literally let the demons into the house of God. What a fitting way for me to meet my end, I thought to myself as I waited to receive his holy smite.