“Okay, you’re all set, buddy. Now listen, you need to stay with a little bit behind us, and always between us. If you get in front of us we can’t shoot, okay?”
“I got it dad. I won’t let you down. Hey, if I do well at this, will you think about giving me a gun?”
“Mikey, I promise I will. Stay safe, and stay close.”
“Okay!”
All of the vehicles on their side of the airbase were not promising. They were riddled with holes. The smell was getting bad very quickly. They circled around the piles of dead that were at each obstacle or narrow area that had served to channel the infected into kill zones. On two occasions, there were still infected moving in the piles, apparently wounded or simply pinned under the dead. They decided to exit the airfield through a gap in the eastern fence and skirt around it looking for perimeter vehicles. The idea proved fortuitous when a small group of infected spotted them and rushed the perimeter fence line. They couldn’t get through it, and there weren’t enough of them to topple it. They followed Dillon, Jimmy and Mikey as they made their way along the outside of the double fence. After a quarter of a mile, there were sixteen of them.
“We have to deal with these guys before we get another break in the fence, Dillon.”
Dillon knew that. He had been avoiding it because he didn’t want to shoot these people in front of Mikey. He also knew that these weren’t really people anymore, and Mikey had to learn to protect himself.
“Mikey, these people are infected. There is no cure. If they get us, they will rip us apart. If we get them, we can end the suffering for them. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.”
“Mikey, do you want to try it?”
“Um…do I have to?”
“If you want to carry a weapon, you have to be willing to use it. If we don’t kill them right now, when it’s easy, we’re going to have to fight them when they can get to us. Then, they will be a real danger, and I don’t know if we will be able to get them all in time.”
“Then we should kill them so we’re safe.”
“Do you want to try?”
“Um…I’ll try.”
“You’ll have to put down your shield.”
“No I won’t, dad. Look what Jimmy did. See this notch in the upper rim of the shield? I just put the shield down in the sand, like this, and then I can brace an MP-5 on it.”
“Jimmy, you’re a genius.”
“It’ll work as long as the kid doesn’t try to fire bursts.”
Dillon handed the MP-5 to Mikey, stepping up beside him like he had down a hundred times while training young men on ranges all over the world.
“Okay, buddy. We’ve done this before. When you’re ready, switch the selector to fire. Keep your finger off of the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.” Dillon noticed that Mikey was shaking a bit. “Take a few deep breaths. This isn’t supposed to be easy. Okay?”
“Okay…” Mikey took a few deep breaths then put the stock into the pocket of his shoulder and braced the weapon on the shield.
“Okay, Mikey, pick one out, aim for the center of his chest….not his belly, not his head – his chest. Then, squeeze the trigger nice and gentle.”
The first round was on target, it was hard for it not to be. The inner and outer perimeter fences were only twenty feet apart, and the targets were staring at them and pushing at the fence. The first target dropped. Dillon was impressed with how well the suppressor worked. He saw Jimmy to the right take out four infected in fairly rapid succession. It was good to know that Jimmy was a good shot. Mikey fired again, killing another, then stopped, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Daddy, I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Dillon took the weapon off of him and let Mikey step behind him as he finished the job with Dillon. In ten seconds the last of them was dead. Then, after checking all around them to make sure that the noise hadn’t attracted more, Dillon reached over and pulled Mikey to him, squeezing him hard.
“C’mon dad, you’re embarrassing me.” was all Mikey said, wiping his eyes on Dillon’s jacket before stepping back.
“You ready, critter?”
“Yeah. And….daddy?”
Dillon stopped and took a look at Mikey. “What?”
“Thanks.” Mikey said, throwing his arms around Dillon.
“Any time, critter. Any time.”
The sun was going down as they circled Wadi Degla, looking for a gently sloped entrance. Dillon knew there were a few, but finding them in the dark was proving less than simple.
They had been driving for six hours. During most of that time, they had been in the desert. They had found the Egyptian made ZIL jeep, originally a Russian design, a mile south of the airbase. It had been mired in sand, and the tracks of a lone soldier marching into the sand showed it had been abandoned. Dillon and Jimmy had let most of the air out of the times and spent a half hour rocking it out of the sand before it was unstuck. Best yet, there were two five-liter cans of gas in the back.
“We’re not going to find it tonight.” offered Jimmy. Jimmy had been walking in front of the ZIL for the past hour, guiding Dillon to make sure they didn’t drive over a cliff.
“You’re right. Let’s park it right here. We can move into the Wadi a bit for the night. If we can find some higher ground, we can climb up there and sleep safely.”
“It’s going to be chilly.”
“That’s why Mikey’s going to be the Oreo filling.”
“Gross, Dad.”
It took some time to even find a good place to climb down into the wadi. The lights of Cairo burning in the distance did little to illuminate their search, but the smoke from it managed to obscure much of the moonlight. In the end, the settled on a small spur that required a couple of five foot climbs to reach. Near the top was a rock overhang that had been used as a camping site in the past by someone. There wasn’t any firewood left, and Dillon guessed the original campers had brought their wood, so they settled in for a night of restless sleep. As expected, Dillon woke up shivering a number of times, and the sleep was fitful. Dillon knew, however, that the only thing worse than bad sleep was no sleep at all.
In the morning, he shared an MRE with Mikey as Jimmy picked through his own. In the light of dawn, as dim as it was because of thick clouds of black smoke, their campsite looked better than Dillon had originally estimated. Further, Dillon could make out a dirt road less than a quarter mile away that would get them, if they took it slowly, to the bottom of the wadi.
After watching Mikey scramble down the spur and then up to the ZIL, Dillon scanned the area. He nudged Jimmy and motioned towards a small group of infected, six to ten, moving about a half mile northwest.
“They aren’t giving us any trouble.” Jimmy said.
“Right, why wait around for them just to waste our ammo.”
“Exactly. Do you need me to guide us down into the wadi?”
“No. It looks easy enough with the sun up. We can try to make it to the east side of Maadi by mid-day.”
“What’s over there?”
“The old USAID compound and the British school are in that area. At that point, we’ll be leaving the desert and we’ll have to navigate around villas, apartment buildings, and a few high rises.”
“Great. That’s just great. Are you sure we’re going the right way? There are less zombies that way.” Jimmy said, motioning behind him with his thumb.
“We wouldn’t last long out there. If the Egyptian Army or Bedouins didn’t get us, we’d die of thirst or hunger. The Bedouins and Egyptian Army don’t like us, and they have all of the resources out there locked up tight. No, our best chance is getting back to the compound. Rick is there, and his plan to get a boat headed downriver to Alexandria is as good as any.”
“Well, I’ve never been much of a leader, Dillon, so I’ll take your word for it. Let’s get going. If we keep chatting about our plans those zombies over there are going to get a lot closer.”
The infected started m
oving faster after the vehicle started up, but Dillon, Mikey and Jimmy were into the wadi and a mile down the dirt path two minutes later. The wadi had always been one of Hannah’s favorite places to run, but it had always reminded Dillon of that scene from Star Wars where the Jawas stalked R2-D2.
Dillon tensely kept an eye out as Jimmy drove. Occasionally, they spied locals hiding out in the wadi, and Dillon would tell Mikey to get down in the back seat as he kept his weapon ready and pointed in the general direction of the strangers. Dillon noted, not entirely surprised, how quickly the world had divided into “us” and “them.” The only people who seemed to want any contact with them were a couple of desperate teenage kids looking for food and water, and their eyes grew hostile when Dillon told them, in Arabic, that he had nothing to spare. One reached to pick up a rock, and Dillon sited in on him, convincing the kid that throwing rocks was not the way to proceed. The kids shouted some obscenities, and Jimmy hit the pedal to get some distance.
The wadi was approximately eleven miles long and a quarter of a mile wide. A few miles down the road Jimmy crested a hill and stopped abruptly before backing up and out of sight of the half dozen men who had pulled a car into their path.
“I don’t know if they were armed.”
“At least one was, Jimmy. The guy to the left had an AK.”
“We don’t want to risk driving through in this thing, and driving around means going off road.”
Dillon knew that off road was problematic, at best. They wouldn’t be able to stay out of range of an AK, and they were likely to bottom out on rocks or get stuck in the sand.
“Back up behind that outcropping. I have an idea.”
A minute later, Jimmy was moving his way up the side of the outcropping with Dillon. Mikey was still in the ZIL down below, occasionally bringing the engine from a slow rev to a higher rev by tapping the gas pedal.
Jimmy and Dillon saw four men a half of a minute later. Dillon’s plan had counted on a lack of training and human curiosity, and the men seemed to have both of these qualities to spare. The men carried AKs. Dillon motioned to Mikey to get out of the ZIL and hide. The men crept forward slowly, trying to figure out where the revving engine sound was coming from in the echoing wadi. Dillon waited, hoping that the other two would be along soon. He had no desire to leave them as a loose end that could get the drop on him in the same way.
The four men were a fifty meters out. Soon, they would enter into an area that opened up significantly, with no cover larger than a basketball. That would have to be the kill zone. Dillon said a silent prayer that the other two would show themselves soon.
“Come on, you bastards.” he whispered. He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the other two were thirty meters farther out, attempting a flank. They were already past the point of no return. They had better cover, and Dillon decided to take them out first. He exchanged a few quick hand signals with Jimmy, then returned to his sights. At eighty meters, it was not the easiest of shots, but he was in a prone, unsupported position. Dillon took a few deep breaths to steady himself, then nodded. Jimmy fired first, and Dillon tried not to reflexively fire. The men ducked down a foot or so, and then Dillon fired.
Dillon didn’t know what had happened to Jimmy’s target. Dillon’s target had dropped, and Dillon had put a second round in the body as it hit the ground. Two of the men were running and two were looking around. Dillon chose to flip his selector switch to automatic and fire at the runners before they became loose ends. He quickly realized that Jimmy had thought the same way. Soon, the two runners were down and Dillon had rolled to the side to reload.
Jimmy was firing short bursts and then he dropped back under cover as the two remaining ambushers fired shots in his general direction. Dillon popped up and fired a short burst. He was pretty sure he missed but the fire snaked towards him, allowing Jimmy to reload and move to a different firing position. Soon, Jimmy popped up and fired a short burst. Dillon heard the fire on his position lessen and popped up to scan for a target. Jimmy had taken one down, and Dillon saw the other running, his AK clattering to the ground. Dillon thought about letting him go, but worried what the man might do. Would he warn others? Would he set up an ambush a quarter of a mile down the road? What if he killed Mikey? Finally, Dillon squeezed off a round that hit the running man in the center of the back. The man hit the ground, clawed at his back for a few seconds, and then was still.
Jimmy and Dillon moved forward slowly, a hundred meters apart, to check the area ahead. Dillon waited until Jimmy found good cover and was set to shoot before moving to the next spot of cover to do the same for Jimmy. After five minutes of moving and then waiting, Dillon and Jimmy were satisfied that the area was clear. They jogged back to the vehicle, still staying close to cover and wary of their surroundings, not wanting to leave Mikey for longer than they had to. Dillon stopped to pick up an AK-47 from a dead man, and picked up a spare magazine the man had in his pocket. Another man had a CZ-75, a Czech pistol in 9mm Parabellum that was a standard issue sidearm in Egypt. As he reached the ZIL, he handed both to Jimmy.
“Mikey, come on out!”
Mikey appeared from behind a small boulder a few seconds later. Dillon hugged him and mussed his hair before picking him up and carrying him to the ZIL.
“The magazine is half empty.” Jimmy commented, inspecting the AK.
Dillon handed him the other magazine. “I thought it might come in handy. It’s a lot easier to get ammo for that AK in Egypt.”
“Yep. You driving?”
“Sure, I’ll take the next shift. Good shooting back there, Jimmy.”
Jimmy shrugged in response. “They weren’t shooting back much.”
Dillon backed the ZIL up and then put it in forward, pulling back onto the road. He took a few seconds to weave between the bodies of the men they had just killed. Sometimes, it just took some time to process everything that had happened. Those men had, without a doubt, intended to rob them or kill them. Those men had, most likely, done so to others in the last few days. They were not good people.
“No, but they were shooting back enough,” Dillon replied after he had finished his thoughts.
The drove until they ran out of wadi. For the last mile they could see apartment buildings begin to loom up around them on three sides. It was sparse, Dillon would have described it as barren, but it was still a suburb, and this was a desert nation.
Ahead, an oily cloud of black smoke rose out of an apartment complex courtyard. To Dillon, it smelled like someone was burning corpses. He had smelled it a few times in his life, and it always sickened him to realize just how much one kind of meat smelled like any other when burnt. Here and there, they saw infected, and on two occasions they had to shoot “zombies” that came too close. There were a few people out and about, scavenging the empty villas for food and water by the looks of it. They wore rags over their faces and carried homemade clubs and spears.
“They look like they’re from a Mad Max movie.” Mikey said, pointing. Dillon didn’t like the comparison. He didn’t like thinking about what it would be like for Mikey to grow up in a world like that.
“Hey, look who’s talking, kid. You have a shield and a sword.” responded Jimmy, warily eying the locals. The locals were keeping their distance. Dillon was sure this had something to do with the three of them being westerners and carrying guns. Guns beat spears and knives any day of the week in open ground.
Mikey waved, and received a few waves back from a younger group of scavengers. Dillon smiled. Despite troubles with a corrupt Egyptian Army, and groups of locals that were outright hostile to Americans, here were a bunch of teenagers waving to his son. It was good to remember that these were just people, for better or worse. It was important to remember. Dillon had seen people lose sight of that before, and he decided in that moment not to ever forget that they were people.
Dillon drove another hundred yards and realized that it was time to climb out of the wadi. Dillon was roughly familiar with the area,
having jogged here a few times with Hannah. Though they could kept driving, it would have meant finding a dirt road out of the wadi, and the closest one was at least a half mile back. Plus, there would surely be road blocks and the ZIL would not have the horsepower needed to push through them, or the armor to protect them from an ambush or from a horde of infected. No, it was time to ditch the vehicle for good and go on foot.
“Hey, I have an idea.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Let’s try to trade this ZIL and the gas for some water and maybe someone to help us navigate into town, at least as far as the Maadi Grand Mall.”
“You mean to tell me you don’t know your way home?”
“Shit Jimmy, I know my way. I know it like a guy who drives it, not like a guy that grew up walking around in it. These kids might be able to seriously help us avoid the main streets.”
“Okay, let’s be careful, though.”
“I know. The last kid I turned my back on shot me.”
“That sucks. How long ago was that?
”Two or three days ago.”
“Great.”
It took some time to convince the kids to come down to speak with him, but his Arabic was good and they were curious. After a bit, four of the older kids came down and the haggling started.
“The Zil is nice, but it is very loud. We want guns,” said the oldest kid. He had crooked teeth and his ears stuck out.
“Guns are loud too. The Zil has extra gas.”
“This is Egypt. Gas is easy in Egypt.”
“Guns are easy in Egypt.”
“Not for a kid. Guns are hard, like finding a safe way to the river will be hard without us. We want guns.”
“Maybe we can give you one gun. Do you want a Kalishnikov?”
“We want bullets.”
“We have bullets, and bullets are easy to find for Kalishnikovs.”
“We want the American guns.”
“You won’t be able to find bullets for the American guns.”
“We want a Kalishnikov and one American rifle.”
Land of the Dead (Book 1): The Infected Page 10