White Flag of the Dead wfotd-1

by Joseph Talluto

  I walked backwards out of the woods, trying to keep Slimey in sight. He was a big guy, pretty much my size, except he was completely bald with an eye and ear missing. His shirt looked to be a security uniform, and his belt was a police issue. I noticed he had a couple of magazine holders, so I made a note to have the draggers check his belt for ammo once he was down. Every round counted in this war.

  He stumbled after me, moving slow, but steady. Water dripped off him in little streams, and even more water came out of his mouth as he tried to groan, keeping his eye locked on me.

  I led him out to a small lawn, and when he came close enough, I put a round through the hole he already had in his head, just making it deeper. He dropped immediately, slumping into a ball on the grass. I holstered my weapon and signaled my shooters to draw back, keeping an eye on the houses and bushes. You never knew when one action will lead to a reaction. Most of the areas around the school were cleared out, but drifters were everywhere. In all seriousness, I probably should have saved the bullet, but hugging a wet zombie while sticking a knife in its ear didn’t rank high on my list of things I enjoyed on a regular basis.

  I went back to the building, waving to a cleanup squad that there was another one to pick up. By the way one of their number’s shoulders sagged, I knew it was Frank Stearns. Poor baby, I thought. It’s tough making a living in a dead world.

  I went inside and got cleaned up. Things were always busy on cleanup days. I passed through the gym and waved to the kids who were playing basketball. In all, choosing this place as a safe haven wasn’t so bad. There was enough room for all of us, we had a water supply, food was still plentiful, and we could feasibly grow food out on the grounds if needed. We hadn’t been through a winter yet, but it was coming. I personally was curious about what cold weather did to zombies, and whether or not it killed the virus. If so, there was going to be a lot of cleanup in spring, and people could actually go home.

  Home. Hadn’t thought about that place in a while. Wouldn’t mind going back and seeing if anything was left. Especially some of the ammunition I had to leave behind. We were getting short on a lot of it, and I was down to five boxes of ammo with my M1 carbine. Something to think about. I couldn’t go now, but it correlated with another idea I had, which I wanted to run by Nate before we made any decisions. It was going to take agreement from the group, because there was going to be some serious changes. We’ll see.

  I stopped by my room and looked in on Jakey. He was working on a bottle with his sitter, and she shook the bottle at me to remind me that we were running low. I nodded.

  “I’m going shopping today.” I said, as I put on another pair of pants and shirt. “Anything you and the girls looking for?” I asked.

  “If you could find magazines, we would appreciate anything.” Holly said, giving Jake a pat on the back. He rewarded her efforts with a huge belch, which made all of us grin. She handed him to me and went out, and I rolled on the floor with him for a while. After about an hour, I saw his eyes starting to drift, so I put him down to sleep. He nodded off slowly, and I stayed with him until he slept. I tried to stay with him as much as I could before he went to sleep. Some strange part of me wanted to make sure he knew I was protecting him even in his sleep.

  I went out and watched the rest of the crews come back in. They streamed in by twos and fours, and the shooters never let down their guard until they were inside. Even though there was no threat nearby, they were trained to never assume anything. The equipment went into racks, and people got cleaned off. I waved at Nate, and he strolled over, glaring daggers into the back of Frank Stearns’ head. I figured Nate would have happily killed Frank several times over, and I was beginning to wonder why not? But everything in its place and I am sure there was a reason he survived long enough for us to find him. Nate strolled up. “What’s up?” “Not much. We need supplies, and I need a crew to go and get some.” I told him. Nate nodded. “I can get you Tommy Carter, Charlie James, and Sarah Greer. They should be ready to go in an hour.”

  I thought about the choices. “I need to add Kristen to the group.” Nate’s eyebrows shot up. I countered his look with reason. “She’s been a solid member, and she wants to prove her worth. Sarah will look out for her.” Nate still looked skeptical. “Look, I gave her a weapon and I think she’s ready.” Nate didn’t say anything. I tried guilt as a last resort. “Okay, if you think she should stay behind, then you tell her. I guess since you trained her, you would know if she’s ready or not. Not saying anything about your training, of course.” That did it. Nate scowled at me and said “If I knew my mother in law was going to live here I’d join the zombies.” I laughed. “That bad?” Nate snorted. “She’d scare off these zombies with one withering screech, followed by a round of phlegm-filled coughing.” “Ew.” I said. “Must have made Christmas fun.” Nate eyes darkened. “Don’t go there. I still have waking nightmares.” I nodded. Who didn’t these days? “One hour. Ready to roll.” “Taking the truck?” Nate asked over his shoulder as he walked away. “Have to.” I replied. “One hour.”

  “Thanks.” I went back to my room and looked over at Jakey, who was still sleeping. He was usually good for an hour or so in the afternoon, so with any luck, I’d be out and back before he woke up. I put on a long sleeve shirt, grabbed my extra gloves, and put on my denim jacket. I opted not to wear my boots, figuring if I needed to be stealthy, my sneakers would do the trick. I belted on my knife, holster for my SIG, and my Gerber multi-tool. You never knew what you might need. I opted to bring my carbine, even though I was getting low on ammo. It worked for me, and it was a comfort to have that kind of firepower in close combat. As power went, it hit as hard at one hundred yards as a. 357 magnum did at ten yards.

  I grabbed my spare balaclava and headed to the garage. We had one vehicle that we used for supply runs, and it wasn’t anything fancy, just a full size pickup with a crew cab. It sat four comfortably, five not so comfortably, and five with weapons and gear rather uncomfortably. We found it on one of our runs through the neighborhoods, and since the owner was not going to use it anymore, it went to the cause. Finding gas wasn’t a problem, since there were lots of vehicles to siphon gas from. Luckily, one of our people was a gear-head, so he kept things running pretty well.

  As I turned to the door, our pastor stopped me and reminded me about burying our dead. I told him to go ahead, get it done as soon as possible, I wasn’t going to be there since I was on a run.

  Inside the garage my fellow scavengers were checking each others gear and loads. Tommy was wearing his assault vest, complete with a cross draw holster and a small loop which held a two-foot crowbar. Useful in many ways, not the least of which was crushing a zombie skull or two.

  Charlie James was wearing clothing similar to mine, but his weapon of choice was different. He had two tomahawks that he had found somewhere, and had fashioned a harness that allowed him to keep them on his back until needed. It worked pretty well, considering he was already swinging them pretty hard just when he drew them out. At 6 feet and two hundred pounds, Charlie was a good man to have on a raid. He was absolutely fearless, and even-tempered even when things got bad. His backup was a 9mm Glock, useful for all domestic disputes involving the undead.

  Sarah Greer was a veteran of many zombie battles, and her favorite weapon was a little semi-automatic Ruger MkIII. She was deadly accurate with it, and liked to get the zombies in the eye when she could, in the ear when she couldn’t. When the Upheaval started, her husband had gotten sick, turned, and killed her two children before she could put him down. We had found her in a long-range recon going house to house, killing any zombies she could find. Looking at her slim five-foot-five frame, auburn hair and fierce green eyes, one would never suspect she was a Public Relations Director in her former life. Strapped to her belt was her backup weapon, a hand pickaxe which was amazingly effective.

  Sarah was helping our last member, Kristen, settle her gear and was giving her a lot of advice on zombies. Kristen was ta
king it all in and nodding. I figured there was no better mentor than Sarah for Kristen. Sarah was like the older sister to all the “orphaned” girls we found, a tough but fair mother hen. Kristen had her Glock, and a three foot spiked pole as a primary weapon.

  I looked over the group and checked my SIG. As I holstered it I asked “Does any one need to be somewhere else? I can get a replacement if you need it.” I always asked, letting people know they had a choice to risk their necks.

  No one answered. I said, “I know we lost a few good people today, and no one feels it more than me. I had to put down Steve Tarnette today, and to be honest, I’m not really feeling too good about it. But those of you who knew Steve would know he would be the first to tell us to quit whining and get the damn job done.” There were smiles at this. “I just want to relate a few things before we head out. The rumors you may have heard about some zombies moving fast and seeming to think things out are true.” There was a collective eyebrow raising at that. I needed them to be aware of what transpired. “I don’t know what it means, other than we are going to need to be on our toes that much more. The fast ones aren’t that fast, but if you’re expecting your usual Shuffler, he’s going to be on you faster than Nate on a slacker. Just be careful, and take nothing for granted until we learn more. Any questions?”

  Sarah spoke up. “John, why do you keep going on these raids? You don’t ask any family man to go, yet you have Jake and you keep going.”

  The group looked at me. The only answer I had was, “I need to do this, because like it or not, this is the world we have right now. I need to be as skilled as possible, so I can teach him to survive. Besides”, I added, “Every Z we put down is one less he has to kill later.” That got a grim collective nod. “Let’s mount up. Kristen, you’re riding the in the truck bed.”

  Kristen looked at the bed and its relative discomfort. “Why me?” she asked.

  Sarah gave her a slap on the back. “You gotta earn the cushions, little girl. Get moving!” Kristen frowned but jumped into the bed anyway. It was clear she did not like being exposed, but we all rode there at one time or another.

  Charlie got into the driver’s seat and I rode shotgun. Sarah and Tommy shared the back seat. The truck was comfortable, but we had added a few things as needed over the months. The mesh on the back of the front seats had extra loaded magazines, and the center console had two extra pistols and spare magazines. There was extra food and water stored in the cab, as well as matches and a first aid kit. There was a flare and a blanket. All the comforts of home. The bed of the truck had two hatchets to repel boarders, and swing up sides to increase the height of the edge of the bed. The added height made it impossible for zombies to reach in, and the boards locked together at the edges for additional strength. Pretty useful if you get swarmed, to buy yourself enough time to regroup and fight back.

  I signaled to the teenager by the garage door that we were ready to head out, and he radioed to the roof for the all clear. When the clear signal came back, he grabbed the door and heaved it skyward. Charlie started the engine and rolled out. As soon as we cleared the door, the kid hauled the door back down and locked it tight.

  As we rolled out, I looked at the neighborhood. You’d never know today was any different than any other day. The houses looked normal, cars were parked in driveways. If you had just awakened from a five month nap, all would seem normal. If you looked closer, however, you would see different things. Shadowy figures moved slowly past windows, and several homes were burned down. There were some cars run into the sides of the roads, and former occupants were still inside them, unable to figure out how to release themselves from the seatbelts. We dodged a few of these as we went down the road. We were headed to a large shopping center to see what we could salvage. I had my doubts we were going to find anything, but you never knew these days. On the way to our current residence, we had found a gas station that was unlooted. I figured the odds of us finding useful foodstuffs was becoming slim as the days wore on, and we were going to have to range much further to bring home the bacon, as it were.

  We headed north, and turned at the first big intersection. There were a lot more cars on the road here, and Charlie had a bit of a time weaving through the abandoned vehicles. I knew why they were there, left like that. After Chicago fell, the resulting wave of zombies spread out to the suburbs, and overwhelmed anything in their path. People caught out in the open were devoured instantly, and people trapped in their cars were eventually dragged out and eaten. More than once I saw cars with smashed in windows and dried blood all over the interior. I tried not to look too closely at the cars with child seats in them, as I really didn’t want to imagine a child stuck in a seat screaming for its mother as dead hands reached to rip it apart.

  We didn’t see many zombies, just a few stuck in cars and the occasional drifter. I could see Sarah mentally calculating how tough of a shot it would be, and more than once I saw her hand drift to the window button to open it and try a shot. But she always stopped, maintaining her inner discipline. More than once I was thankful I never had to put Ellie down, and that I got the chance to tell her how much she meant to me before she died. Not many people in the Upheaval got the same opportunity.

  Charlie dodged a big truck in the road and had to go for a ways on the shoulder. I could hear Kristen bouncing in the back and cursing the whole time. I grinned and remembered my first time in the truck bed. I had bounced so high at one point the driver thought I had fallen out.

  Charlie turned at the sign for the Big Circle store and headed to the back of the large building. We figured out a while ago that the front of the store was nice for picking, the backs of stores is where they had everything neatly boxed for you, and in greater quantity. Who needed three cans of beans when a crate was available?

  Charlie backed the truck up to the door, and Kristen jumped out of the bed. She waited for Sarah to get out and followed her to the front of the pickup. She and Sarah were on lookout duty. I could see Sarah motioning to Kristen to keep her eyes open and to check the area constantly. Tommy, Charlie and I got out and immediately scanned the area. No Z’s were in sight, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. There was a retention pond over to the northwest, with a lot of water and high grass. A hundred could be hiding there and we’d never see one before it was too late. Charlie drew his tomahawks and stood back about ten feet from the door. I stood off to the side and flicked the safety off my carbine. Tommy went to work on the door, first checking to see if it was open and then using his crowbar to pop the handle. He didn’t open the door right away, and placed his ear to the door to see if there was anyone on the other side. Since noise attracted them, we wanted to make sure we were ready when they came calling.

  Sarah and Kristen were staying back, Sarah watching the grass and sides of the building. Kristen stuck close to Sarah, but seemed eager to prove her worth.

  Tommy raised his hand and signaled that he had heard something. He tapped on the door and was rewarded with a loud thump that nearly opened the door. Tommy jerked back and yanked the door open, keeping it between him and the opening.

  Two zombies came spilling out, and one went to his knees as he fell. The other one, a female, stepped around the fallen one in a slow gait, seeing Charlie and stepping towards him with arms coming up and a slow groan emerging from her torn lips. Charlie stepped back and waited for the zombie to come to him, his eyes impassive under his hood. When the zombie girl came within reach, Charlie whipped his hand around and planted a tomahawk on the top of the girls head. She dropped instantly, taking the weapon with her. Charlie was experienced enough to know to leave the weapon until the Z was dead. People had been lost who held on to weapons thinking they had killed a zombie, only to realize the critters weren’t dead yet.

  Tommy wasn’t idle. As soon the first zombie who had fallen through the door started to get up, he stepped up behind it and slammed it in the head with his crowbar. The zombie went down, but wasn’t out. As it struggled to re-orie
nt itself, Tommy smashed it again with the crowbar, this time cracking the skull. One more hit put it down for good.

  Charlie retrieved his ‘hawk from the fully dead girl and wiped it off on the Z’s shirt. He dragged the body over to the side of the lot and left it there. Tommy was a bit more creative, hooking his kill with his crowbar under the collar and dragging it out as well. Sarah didn’t even look at the bodies as they were dragged past her. Kristen looked at the bodies and narrowed her eyes, but she held up well.

  I waited at the door, listening for any more sounds, but I couldn’t hear anything distinct. I thought I heard footsteps, but they stopped and didn’t resume.

  Charlie was about twenty feet from the door when a zombie burst out of the doorway headed right at him and headed fast, like a speed walker. I had but a glimpse of his face as he strode past me, and that was enough. His lips were torn from his face, exposing his yellowed teeth. If that was how he got it, it was a nasty wound to die from. His neck and shirt front were completely covered in blood, and his hands were vicious claws he was extending to reach Charlie with.

  I didn’t want to shoot for fear of attracting more of them, but Charlie looked like he was not going to be able to defend himself. I swung the carbine and was about to squeeze off a shot when Charlie moved. It happened so fast the zombie never knew what hit it. Charlie waited until the zombie’s hands were nearly on him, then he ducked and pivoted out of the way, sweeping the zombie’s legs from underneath him with one of his tomahawks. As the zombie landed flat on his back, Charlie jumped over its flailing arms and swung at the zombie’s head, intending to nail it from the top. The zombie had other ideas, rolling away and letting the tomahawk slam into its shoulder. Charlie left it there and the zombie stood up with the ‘hawk sticking out of it like a big toothpick on a rotten hors devours. It started for him again and Charlie sidestepped the lunging arms and swung at the back of its head. The axe blade bit deep with a sound like a watermelon being dropped, and the zombie stumbled forward, falling on its face, dead for good.