Zombie Rush 4

by Joseph Hansen

  “Yes, never the less, we would like to meet with her and verify that she can be impartial,” Fenton interjected, sensing that the mayor was about to botch it.

  “Impartial? She is a supreme court justice for Christ’s sake. Very well, Mayor Boweaver, we will release her to you, but justice had best be served or I might feel the need to make some decisions of my own.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, sir. Might I add, sir, these are very precarious times. Those who were average citizens have had to fight and kill in order to survive. The city itself has survived due to their efforts, and they did it without the help of the military. Our National Guard stepped up and fell in behind the leadership that ensured the survival of thousands of people, and they were the ones to establish a place where people of all states could come for refuge and protection. I’m not threatening you or trying to tell you anything other than the fact that these civilians are not the same civilians that you remember. They have changed dramatically; in less than a week, Hot Springs has become a city of warriors. Walking softly and treating people with a level of respect will behoove you more than hinder you,” Fenton finished as they stood to leave.

  “I’m not quite clear what you are trying to say, Mr. Fenton, but it sounded a lot like a thinly veiled threat, which of course, I do not appreciate. President Berry is here and I think you should remember that she was elected into office by millions of voters. She is the president, and she will be deferred to. Do you understand what I am saying, sir?”

  “Clear as a bell, General. We have no intentions of ignoring her roles of office, in fact we are intent on supporting her presidency and grant it all of the power and limitations that are required within her role. We must keep in mind, however, that she was not elected by millions of voters, as nobody votes for a vice president, and there are no longer millions of voters out there. Her presidency is inherited, which is just as valid, I assure you … we are still a democracy after all. We are happy to have the president staying here and hope she continues to stay here so eventually, she can help us recreate some semblance of what we once had. All I’m saying is walk softly and let the people accept her on their own terms, or things could go sour. Thank you for your time, General. We and our entourage will be waiting by the front entrance so that you may deliver the prisoner to us.”

  *

  Lisa didn’t know what was going on, but she was grateful to be out of the hands of the soldiers. She didn’t recognize any of the guards who came to get her, other than the National Guardsman named Carlos, whom she had spoken to on several occasions. He wouldn’t even look at her. Stranger yet, he no longer wore his guard uniform.

  Is he now AWOL? Has he abandoned his post and position in the military for the civilian life?

  She looked closer at the other guards who were walking her back toward the Sam’s Club that the people had established as their temporary community square. It was a good time of year for things to be happening. The reservoir, combined with the higher elevations, kept it very temperate, perfect to do almost everything outside. Besides, people were still a little shook up and housing and buildings seemed more of a trap than security.

  Lisa looked at a few of the others who guarded her and noticed that they too moved as if they had had some sort of training. She wondered how many of them no longer considered themselves to be a part of the nation’s military. There would surely be some repercussions over their act of desertion, but was it desertion? National Guard was technically controlled by the governor of each state, so if they threw in their lot with the state of Arkansas, were they deserting the US Military, or were they being loyal to the state to which they pledged? Lisa never spent any time in the military, so she didn’t know what the result would be. She did remember in history that General Robert E. Lee was an abolitionist who abhorred slavery but was dedicated to his state of Virginia, which is what led him to lead.

  It was a good forty-minute walk back to Sam’s, where they quickly secured her in an office with a lawyer they had managed to find among the survivors. He was more of a paper pusher dealing with financial issues and had never seen the inside of a courtroom, but he was informed and knew where to get the information he was ignorant to.

  “Hi, Lieutenant Reynolds, I’m Lenny Michaels, an attorney for the Global Life Company down on Third Avenue. I have been asked to represent you for this tribunal and, to be completely honest with you, I don’t know how effective I will be due to my lack of actual litigation skills. Sadly, I am all you have at this point, and all I can give you is my word that I will do the best job I can.”

  “It’s all right, Mr. Michaels; I don’t feel that I have much of a chance, regardless of who is representing me.”

  “Oh? And why would that be, Ms. Reynolds?”

  “It has been over twenty-four hours, and nobody has even questioned me about the incident. Officer Benson, at the very least, should have been there for some sort of interrogation and, from what I have heard, he wasn’t allowed to.”

  “It’s true that there have been some irregularities—and we plan on playing on that—but we have to keep in mind that these are very irregular times. I mean, being denied basic rights and due process are a terrible thing but then so is killing someone, especially a police officer. I do want to hear your story, but I would like a witness, so I have invited Officer Benson to join us. He’s right outside in the hallway; do you mind if I bring him in and we can get down to business?”

  “Isn’t it a bit irregular for a lawyer to bring a cop into an interrogation?”

  “Yes, I suppose it is. I don’t know much about criminal law or the procedures that go along with it, but there’s another issue that has to be addressed.”

  “What might that be?” Lisa asked, perplexed that there was something more drastic than her being on trial for murder of her coworker.

  “Well, you are the only one of rank who has taken the oath of state. None of our National Guardsmen are of any higher rank, so that leaves only you between us and the military that is trying to move in.”

  “Shit, no wonder they want me out of the way. What about Boweaver?”

  “No, a municipal mayor has no authority beyond his job, and his oath of office does not cover what’s needed for him to take over. If there wasn’t a military presence—not to mention the president herself—he could probably run things, but as it is, he has no ground to stand on. You’re it. As being the only authority left in Arkansas, you have the right to appoint or elevate someone else who has also taken the state oath of service, but that can’t be just anybody.”

  “Really? Innocent until proven guilty, so technically I still do have some authority. So it could be Benson, or would have been Krupp?”

  “Yes, I researched it and it’s pretty clear; all you have to be is alive, sane, and sober and swore the oath with the governor, god rest his soul. There is another by the name of Earnest—”

  “Nope, I would rather have zombies in charge than Ernie. Go ahead and bring Benson in,” Lisa said quickly while ignoring his religious reference.

  “We’ll determine the sane part here today; the alive and sober part is a given,” Michaels replied, unsuccessfully trying to lighten the mood. “Either way, Benson is the only other candidate qualified to elevate. Before too long, we’re also going to have to elect a governor, but that will be long after this has passed.”

  “Okay, bring in Benson and I’ll elevate him to … what?”

  “Lieutenant is the highest that you can do; you can’t promote someone beyond your own capacity.”

  “Very well then; let’s do it.”

  They went through the formalities as Lisa read from a card to elevate Benson to the role of lieutenant. Surprisingly, she found it to be a relief of burden more than anything else. Lisa liked Art and trusted him. When it was all said and done, she removed the bars from her uniform and applied them to Benson’s collar then sealed the deal with a handshake and a hug. They then went through the arduous task of questioning
her about the night Krupp was killed, the only interruption to her narrative being Benson.

  “Kissed him?” he said in shock. “I thought you hated him.”

  “I don’t hate anyone, Art. Yeah, I have always been attracted to him even if he was a jerk and when I saw him lying there injured … well, it just happened. Then Lu woke up and …”

  “I believe you, but there isn’t much we can do right now. Lu is a devious person, so I feel it’s best we don’t let her know that she is as much of a suspect as she is and just go through the tribunal,” Benson said.

  “I agree,” Michaels said. “I think we have enough here to create reasonable doubt. Of course we’ll hear her account of things before your testimony and go through that route to see what comes up.”

  “Doesn’t sound very hopeful, to tell you the truth, but it is what it is, I guess,” Lisa said. “They want to kill me, Art. I was in a room alone for a full day. I heard so much through the ducting in that old school that I am sure they want me gone completely.”

  “I know it’s rough right now,” Art said as they sat around the small table. He then eased his painful stump around the corner of the table and signaled that she should come closer. She leaned and he tilted his head just enough so their foreheads touched.

  “People talk and the walls have ears …” he started cryptically. “But then so do the streets, and this square right here is a mecca of information. People are staying out of earshot out of respect, but you can bet there are those who are reading our lips and know everything we say.”

  “Then why don’t we go indoors for some privacy,” Lisa whispered back.

  “This is a page out of your book, sweetheart. Give them the truth, or as good a truth that information allows, and let them decide. So as far as your execution goes … I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said with a hint of a smirk

  *

  The morning came and the lot in front of the Sam’s Club was laid out so that members of all three councils could witness the tribunal, as all of them would determine the verdict. Everybody who was anybody was there, and the crowd stretched into the hospital grounds.

  Everybody knew who Lisa was and most owed her their life, though hardly any of them had ever seen her. The crowd looked upon her in wonder, many making the comment that she was much smaller than they thought she would be. She was a five-foot-six woman with stubble on her head from having been shaved a few days prior. She wasn’t a warrior or a ninja; she was simply a woman … until she met their eyes.

  That was when they saw the fire that had saved them all; the will and sheer determination that banded them all together into a functioning city of survivalists. The gang that had taken over the racetrack to farm looked at her in awe, having only heard her looped broadcast through Tasha’s radio station.

  One of them whispered to their impromptu leader, “Look at her eyes … that’s fire right there. Fierce!”

  “A killer,” said some.

  “A savior,” said others.

  The whispers rippled through the crowd almost as if they were a song, and she could feel every word said. It wasn’t hearing, for her ears were filled with a natural rhythmic melody that was the crowd itself, and she let her mind drift. Drift to see all of the faces that came to watch her day in court—or at least on display in the parking lot. Her eyes landed upon the major for a second and she thought …

  What an odd time to appear. At least he lost the uniform … kept the guards though. What the hell is he doing here? She focused her thoughts. Why do I feel so fucking high?

  As if he heard her thoughts, he gave a little ta-ta twirl of his fingers in greeting before splaying them out wide as if he had flicked something at her.

  Lisa looked back at the crowd, and people nodded when her eyes landed upon their particular group. She felt as if the roles had reversed and it was they who were on trial. She surveyed the crowd, evaluating them and making determinations like it was her right to do so. Her eyes drifted, seeing multi-colored hues surrounding individuals. Some were bright and some not so much. Others seemed to have a cloud invading their hues that made Lisa feel dirty. Had they done things … have they done things that should deny them the right to be a part of this? Had their own actions stripped them of that right? Some held her gaze proudly as others dropped their eyes and looked toward the ground or to the side, and Lisa smiled at them. Those who saw it smiled back, knowing where their hearts lay, without a word ever having been said.

  Lisa scanned the crowd, feeling that she was actually seeing the righteous as well as those who had tarnished themselves. Why did she think of them in that way? Wasn’t it supposed to be simply right or wrong … good or bad? Now instead it was those who radiated and those who had destroyed or were destroying their own radiance.

  Something had come over her that she couldn’t explain. It was like she could see what was in the hearts of those her eyes fell upon. Some stood with an aura that glowed so brightly she would have shielded her eyes if her hands weren’t bound. Others glowed but not quite as bright, while others were clouded—clouded to the point of being black, and for some reason they could not meet her gaze even for a second. She had given them refuge from the storm, a savior, a power within itself, beautiful. As each and every one was once beautiful.

  Benson stood there glowing brightly. Ernie, standing next to him, glowed just as bright and held her gaze with certainty. I was wrong? I was so wrong. All along, he was nothing but a confused kid wanting to do what was right but not having the courage or the knowledge.

  She knew that he now had that courage and part of that was due to her. His eyes were locked on hers and he didn’t waver; he didn’t show hate or loathing, just a look of lost opportunity.

  Brett, who had been the real driving force behind the compound, came over and shook Lisa’s bound hand. He was on one of the councils, so it was more than a little inappropriate, but everyone who had been there from the start knew his value to the community, and their association was what made this all happen.

  “Regardless of what happens today, Lieutenant Lisa,” he smirked. “I’m proud and happy to have met you on that first day; we’ve saved many, many lives together.”

  “You more than me, Brett. Without you, none of this would have happened.” They hugged. “I too am proud to have teamed with you,” she said as a tiny, imperceptible tear started to collect in her eye.

  “People wouldn’t have followed me the way they did you. I don’t know what happened between you and Ed, but I hope you get out of this okay,” Brett said.

  She pulled him close and whispered, “Nothing happened, Brett. Nothing.”

  That was all she got out before Brett was forced away from her by Carlos, who still hadn’t looked at her. Carlos, who was there when she executed the racists. Carlos, who helped Tim rescue those people off of the filling station roof. Carlos, who pulled the trigger when Tim, who had been so solid, turned. Carlos, who had done so many things in the short time she had known him wouldn’t even acknowledge that she was alive.

  Lisa looked out at the crowd, seeing all of those she had met and those whom she never met but felt responsible for. Everyone was here; almost thirty thousand people ringed her stage except …

  Lisa’s brow furrowed. Where is Cat?

  Chapter 19

  Moving On

  Dean collapsed on the floor, looking up at the mutilated figure hanging from the ceiling.

  “Help me,” the creature whined, and Dean shook his head with revulsion. It was obscene and made him want to vomit, but he held it in with his last reserves of strength. Dean saw another creature behind strapped to a chair and looked as if he had been there for days, still alive with his appendages stripped of meat.

  It was then that he knew for sure the hunk of meat hanging and being tortured by Kodiak deserved what he got.

  “Dad!” Charlie shouted as he rushed to him from the other end of the shop.

  Dean wanted to look but couldn’t turn away from the man whose body
parts were being systematically removed. His nose and nipples were gone, as was the flesh on the underside of his arms and an ear was peeled down and hanging. Kodiak turned and faced Dean, her eyes a mix of rage and hate, along with a hint of embarrassment that Dean saw what she was doing … but there was no other way to seek revenge for so many.

  “He has been drying the meat and eating that poor fucker back there for weeks, the sick fuck,” Kodiak said, her malice evident. “He will know pain before he dies, trust me on that.”

  Dean nodded, accepting her words and truth in a twisted world with a twisted justice. Yet a justice more true than what was the past. He turned to look at his son.

  “How did you do it, Charlie?” he asked as his son rolled him over to look at his wounds.

  “We set him up. We lit fires and made noise and attracted him to us. That is, Kodiak and I did; Sharon hung out in the shadows and waited until the time was right. You wouldn’t believe how badly Sharon beat him down; it was awesome!”

  “Just another day at the office,” the former WMA fighter, Sharon, said as she walked out from behind a Lincoln Navigator parked next to a Cadillac. There was also a high-end Audi and a couple of Harleys. There was no end to what the guy owned; it explained how he could get away with his crimes for so long. In the old world, money bought everything. Now it wasn’t worth its weight in toilet paper.

  “Be sure to get his home address for us. I’m sure there are some things there we could use,” Dean said before he passed out.

  It was several hours later that Dean woke up on the couch with Sharon putting stitches in his wounded leg.

  “Oh, so you’re a doctor too?” he said sarcastically.

  “Nope, but there’s a book here that is specific about gunshot trauma and how to treat them. I think our only issue now is loss of blood. I think we should be glad the doctor was a sadist and wanted to see you suffer or he might have hit something that would do some real damage. The exit wound in the back of your shoulder has me a little worried, but not enough to keep you bedridden.”