Doc let out another boisterous. “Ho ho ho!”
The children cheered and applauded. Lauren ushered her children toward Stacy and Kristie.
“Merry Christmas,” said Lauren.
Both women returned the greeting.
“Baby!” squealed Marie.
The three women laughed.
“Yep, do you remember her name?” Lauren asked her.
“Baby!” Marie repeated.
Warranting another bout of laughs.
“How’s Gertie,” Lauren inquired as she peeked into the bundle Kristie held.
“She was a little fussy last night, but she’s great today,” replied Kristie.
“Well, if you need a sitter I’m always available,” Stacy reminded her.
“Thanks,” smiled Kristie.
The women carried on their conversation as their children patiently waited to see Santa. Jim, who appeared anxious, emerged onto the drill floor. Kristie watched him scan the crowd. Their eyes locked and he quickly approached her.
“What’s going on?” she asked before he was all the way to her.
“We need you at the front gate,” he said sounding out of breath.
“Okay,” she said as Stacy took the bundle containing Gertie.
“I’ll watch her,” she said.
Jim led Kristie off the drill floor and into the hall.
“We got a call from the gate just now,” he explained as they entered the foyer.
“Alright,” she said.
He helped her put her coat on and they stepped outside and headed to the main entrance.
“There’s a small outfit claiming to have been assigned to this armory before the Zs started,” Jim continued.
“Really?” she sounded surprised. “Did you get any names?”
“Their front man said his name is Captain Rhodes,” replied Jim. “They’re coming in now.”
“I knew a Rhodes,” said Kristie. “but he wasn’t a captain.”
“Maybe he got promoted,” he suggested.
“Not to captain. He was a lower enlisted,” she informed him.
“Don’t introduce yourself and stay behind me. Let’s let them think they’ve fooled us till we figure out what their endgame is,” Jim plotted.
Kristie nodded. A group of six men stood within their perimeter. Simon stood with them. None of them looked military to Kristie. Some of them wore the old battle dress uniforms, others wore hunting camo. All but the man out front wore various types of helmets. The man out front was also the only one with what had been modern military attire. From here she could see he wore an ACU top. She couldn’t tell rank until they were closer. The man also wore blue jeans and ordinary work boots. But all of this could be dismissed if they weren’t properly outfitted.
Without seeing his face clearly she could see the leader was about the same size as the Rhodes she knew. His shaggy hair blocked a clear view of his face.
“Captain Rhodes.” Jim greeted him with a handshake. “I’m Mayor McCoy, but you can call me Jim.”
This wasn’t Kristie’s Rhodes.
“Joseph Rhodes,” said the man.
“I’m Kristie,” Kristie offered her hand.
She wanted a better look at the rank on his chest, but his weapon sling blocked her view. None of these men appeared familiar to her.
“Hi,” he smiled.
“What can we do for you, captain?” asked Jim.
“Well, I don’t want to be rude, but you could give us back our armory,” he continued before Jim could respond. “You guys seem pretty well armed, so I assume those are our weapons.”
“They’re the weapons we took from the weapons vault, yes,” confessed Kristie.
“And we’ll need all the ammunition we left here. This was our supply cache,” Rhodes informed them in a stern tone.
Kristie knew this was a lie. There was no ammunition stored here. And Kristie had been here the entire time.
“Perhaps we could discuss this further in my office,” suggested Jim.
“Lieutenant Brubaker,” Rhodes barked to a large man in BDUs. “Stay here with the men. You’re in charge. Marrero you’re with me.”
A shorter man with scraggly hair and a beard dressed in camo hurried to catch up with them as they walked toward the armory. Jim opened the door for everyone to enter the armory. Rhodes stepped inside and looked around. It was obvious he was surveying his surroundings.
“This way,” said Kristie, taking the lead.
Rhodes and Marrero followed her down the hall and into the Mayor’s Office, which was the old Chaplain’s Office. The men adjusted their slings so their weapons could rest in their laps and took seats in front of the desk. Jim sat behind it. Kristie stood in the doorway.
“Gentlemen—” began Jim, before being interrupted.
“Listen,” Rhodes interjected. “This isn’t going to be a lengthy conversation. My men need a place to ride out the cold. Your people are squatting here and using our resources.”
Jim shared a concerned look with Kristie.
“All due respect, captain,” he said. “But we can’t just turn over everything we have. We’re a community with women and children.”
“Your wall is impressive,” Rhodes interrupted again. “You’ve walled off the entire town. Those things won’t get you.”
“It’s not those things we’re worried about,” said Kristie as she circled to join Jim on his side of the desk. “Sure we have the entire town. But the perimeter requires constant maintenance. And we don’t have enough homes to accommodate everyone. Anyone living in a tent has to stay here in the armory during the winter.”
She seized the moment to look at his chest. He wore the rank of a private first class. Same rank as the Rhodes she knew.
“Your people will just have to double up and get cozy. This building, those weapons, and the ammunition all belong to us,” asserted Rhodes in an intimidating tone.
“It belongs to the government,” Jim chimed in. “and when they come back we’ll turn it over.”
“What if I told you they’re here now,” hissed Rhodes.
“I’d say you’re lying,” replied Kristie as she pulled out her pistol and pointed it at Rhodes.
“You’re making a mistake,” he said, raising his hands.
“Am I? PFC Rhodes,” Kristie said rhetorically. “Where’d you get that uniform?”
He glared at her as he came up with an answer.
“Had to take it off one of my dead men,” he seethed. “Used mine as a tourniquet when I tried to save his life.”
“It’s true,” Marrero joined the discussion. “Rhodes was a great man.”
“So your name is Rhodes also?” she countered.
There was a moment of hesitation before he answered.
“Yes. And if you must know,” he changed his tone to sound pitiful. “He was my son.”
Kristie already knew this was a lie.
“We knew you were lying when you first got here,” stated Jim. “Kristie was in this unit. She was in this armory when we found her. Been here since the beginning.”
“Then she’s lying to you,” argued Marrero.
“Not likely,” Jim continued to debunk their story. “You said you had ammunition here, but there is none.”
He realized his mistake as soon as he’d opened his mouth. Marrero quickly pulled out a radio.
“They don’t have bullets!” he shouted before Kristie shot him.
Rhodes smiled eerily.
“Don’t shoot him,” said Jim. “we can use him as leverage against them.”
Outside, gunfire erupted loudly.
“No we can’t,” said Kristie as she pulled the trigger.
Whoever this man was, he went limp in his chair. His blood dripped to the carpet below him.
The two of them hurried back to the foyer. Many of the villagers were crowded to the door. Lauren was already at the front.
“Go back inside!” ordered Jim. “Close the door and don’t let anyo
ne in!”
“Stacy!” shouted Lauren.
“I’ve got them!” she yelled back.
“What’s going on?” asked Lauren as she put her coat on.
“We’re being attacked,” Jim answered.
“They’re claiming to be soldiers,” added Kristie.
“Do you think its that rogue group?” Lauren inquired.
“Could be,” stated Jim.
The three of them joined the fight outside. Simon ran up to meet them.
“They’re coming over the east and south walls,” he informed them.
“What about the ones already inside?” asked Jim.
“Most of them were killed before they could get off a single round. The big guy, however, got away. Not sure if he’s still inside or not,” explained Simon.
“Doesn’t matter,” Jim said. “Let’s just defend our people.”
“Everyone is already at the east and south walls. I just sent a couple of people to the west side also, but they could use help,” stated Simon.
“Lauren and I will go,” Kristie volunteered.
“Be careful,” Simon encouraged her.
The two kissed briefly before departing. The two women joined another woman and a man behind a pallet of building materials.
“Three of them started to come over,” said the woman.
Two bodies lay in the snow next to the wall. Blood colored the snow bright red.
“Where’d the other one go?” asked Lauren.
“She got behind the RVs and took off,” said Ryan, the man.
“We’ll get her,” said Kristie.
Another body came over the wall, firing shots into the pallet as they did. Ryan and the woman returned fire. Now, another body lay in the snow to bleed out.
Kristie and Lauren moved to investigate the area around the RVs. Kristie was better educated on the tactics of movement. Lauren followed behind her.
“Follow the wall, I’ll zigzag the RVs and we’ll meet on the other side,” said Kristie.
Lauren separated and walked along the wall. Simon had given her some weapon training, but she was far from proficient. Kristie passed between RVs. She peeked into windows to look for anyone hiding. Most everyone was gathered in the armory to celebrate Christmas, so they were all empty. Kristie froze in place when she felt the cold gun metal on the back of her head.
“Slowly step back and keep your hands up,” the woman ordered her.
Kristie did as she was told. Without removing the gun’s barrel from Kristie’s head, she reached over and took Kristie’s pistol.
“Now get on your knees,” the intruder said calmly.
As Kristie sank down to her knees in the snow, the woman moved around to face her.
“Oh my God,” whispered Kristie. “Natalie?”
“Kristie?” she answered.
Neither woman could hide their shock.
“I-I thought you were dead,” confessed Kristie. “You just left without saying anything.”
Natalie stared at the girl who’d once been her best friend. They’d done everything together, yet here she was pointing a gun at her face.
“What happened to you?” Kristie asked.
“A lot,” said Natalie coldly.
Kristie knew that tone. It’d been a long time since she’d heard it, but it was unmistakable. Natalie was angry with her.
“How are you entitled to be mad at me?” demanded Kristie. “You were the one who left me alone here. Not me.”
“You could have come after me!” she shouted back. “You could have brought me back!”
“I didn’t even know where you’d went!” Kristie yelled back.
“I went home, Kristie! I went home where my parents were already dead,” she confessed.
“I’m sorry,” offered Kristie.
“Sorry doesn’t even begin to fix anything,” snapped Natalie.
“You left me!” repeated Kristie.
The two women glared at one another.
“How did you end up with them?” Kristie asked.
“They found me,” she replied. “They made me one of them.”
“How?”
“Doesn’t matter, I’m with them and its too late to change now,” explained Natalie as she charged her weapon to fire.
The shot rang out and blood splattered Kristie’s face. Natalie’s body collapsed into the snow. Lauren stood behind her. Steam rolled off her gun and a strand of her hair blew into her face. Her rosy cheeks stood out against her pale skin.
“Are you okay?” asked Lauren.
“Yea-yeah,” Kristie answered.
“You two were talking,” Lauren said. “Did you know her?”
“I thought I recognized her,” she began. “But I was mistaken.”
Lauren helped Kristie to her feet. She could tell Kristie was in a daze as she looked at the dead girl.
“Are you okay?” questioned Lauren.
Kristie nodded. “Yeah. You?”
Lauren wasn’t sure. Her hands were trembling. Killing the living was different than killing the undead. In both cases, however, she did so in defense.
“I think so,” Lauren replied, sounding unsure.
Both women were in a state of shock, but quickly shook it off. They had a fight to rejoin.
Chapter 26
KILLER, THIEF, SURVIVOR
Cale was conditioned to produce a surge of adrenaline at the sound of footsteps approaching his door. It was the only way his body could compensate for what was being done to him. Today, however, his autonomic response was unwarranted. Connor walked in carrying Cale’s daily ration of bread and water. He set himself to the task of feeding Cale. Cale ate what he could, but his appetite wasn’t what it use to be. He gulped down the water, spilling a portion of it as Connor held the bottle.
“Let me go,” he said weakly. “Please.”
Connor ignored Cale’s pleas and quickly left the room.
“Please,” Cale cried softly.
Silence was all that answered him. For days Damian searched for Bobby, and after each failure he’d come back and enact his frustrated vengeance on Cale. He’d cut him, waterboarded him, burned him, and beaten him over and over. Cale’s story remained the same. Damian threatened to castrate him next.
“Hang in there, Cale,” Zach encouraged him.
He closed his eyes and attempted to imagine a place outside of his prison. But everywhere he imagined Damian would appear. Shouting erupted from down the hall. Here it was, Damian hadn’t found him again. And now he’d make good on his threat to castrate him.
The door flung open and a bloodied Bobby was thrown to the floor. His arm was deformed, obviously broken. Behind him came Damian, followed by Connor who looked angry.
“Damian!” he shouted.
“What?” replied Damian.
“What the fuck are you doing?” screamed Connor.
“I’m setting right what these two fucks have done! They killed William and Frankie!” he answered.
“He’s just a kid!” Connor continued to argue.
“So what?” scoffed Damian.
Connor stared at Damian, who remained devoted to his plan. “I want no part in this!” he yelled.
“Then fucking, leave ya pussy!” Damian retorted. “Collin would be right here next to me! Helping me avenge our brothers!”
“He would never kill a kid!” argued Connor.
“He seemed pretty fond of killing ‘em during the war, but you wouldn’t know that. You didn’t know your brother like I did, college boy!” he taunted.
“Fuck you,” Connor fired back.
“You don’t want to do this with me? Fine! Fucking leave! That piece of shit,” he pointed at Cale, “killed our brothers protecting this fuck,” he kicked Bobby.
Connor shook his head. He locked eyes with Cale. Cale’s eyes begged for mercy.
“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered before walking out and closing the door behind him.
Damian wasted no time as he stripped Bobby
of his clothing, pummeling him as he did.
“Who are you?” he began his line of questions.
“M-m-my name is B-Bobby,” stammered the boy.
“Who are you?” he repeated as he kicked him.
“He’s telling the truth,” choked Cale. “His name is Bobby. He’s just some kid.”
Damian backhanded Cale across the face.
“You’ll talk when I ask you a question, bitch!” he warned.
“My name is Bobby,” whimpered the boy.
Damian prepared to strike him again.
“Stop Damian!” shouted Cale. “Leave him alone!”
Damian turned and punched Cale in the face. The impact dazed Cale but he continued.
“Just let him go! I killed them! He didn’t do anything! I’m the one you want!” he shouted.
Damian hit him again. Cale’s head recoiled back with the blow. He spit out the blood that filled his mouth. Damian approached Bobby once more.
“I killed them!” Cale screamed. “I shot the first fuck center mass just to watch him squirm! The next I sprayed his brains across the road!”
Cale laughed maniacally.
Damian focused his attentions on Cale, putting his large hands around his throat and squeezing. Cale’s vision narrowed. His own laughing became distant.
“Let the boy go,” he mouthed. “Don’t hurt him.”
“Let him go?” repeated Damian. “I’ve got a better idea.”
Damian pulled out his knife and cut the duct tape securing Cale to the chair. He sawed at the grey material without regard. He cut into Cale’s arm indiscriminately. After the makeshift shackles had been removed, he pulled Cale from the seat and threw him to the floor. Aggressively, he snatched Bobby by his hair and shoved him into the seat.
“You’re gonna watch me kill him!” he screamed.
“No!” shouted Cale, trying to get to his feet.
Damian shoved Cale back to the floor, then began pummeling Bobby.
“Stop!” demanded Cale.
His next attempt to get to his feet was foiled again by Damian, who kicked him back. Bobby flailed in pain as Damian strangled him. Cale leapt onto his back, but was cast aside. Cale attempted to summon more strength, but it was too late. Damian thrust his dagger into the boy’s throat over and over, as if he were trying to decapitate him. Bobby gurgled, unable to call out. His eyes fell on Cale. They begged for mercy that he was in no position to offer. Slowly, the life drained from his face and he became flaccid.
Z Plan (Book 3): Homecoming Page 24