by Ricky Sides
“Get in here, you dummy!” Randy heard Herb yell.
Randy spun around and saw that the gate was open and his patrol was streaming through it. Even as he started toward the gate, a flight of arrows flew through the gaps in the wire and into the bodies of the zombies that had now closed to within twenty yards of Randy’s position. Several of the archers had rushed their shots in their haste to keep the undead from reaching him. As a result, only two of the zombies were killed in the first volley of arrows.
Herb stepped up to the gate with a bow and let fly an arrow that streaked past Randy’s head as he was running the final few feet toward safety. Randy heard a moan behind him cut short and knew that Herb’s arrow had killed one of his pursuers. He darted to the left, around his friend, as he made it through the gate. Herb stepped back inside quickly, and the men who were waiting to close and secure the gate did so.
The defenders moved back away from the reaching arms of the zombies who were now pressed against the reinforced, eight foot tall, fence. The archers’ next volley of arrows proved to be more accurate than the first, and the remaining zombies were dispatched with arrows to their brains.
Randy took a moment to check on his patrol. He thought he’d seen them all entering the gate, but that was the sort of thing a man verified. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the three men standing behind the archers, prepared to use their firearms if necessary.
“The dog is out of range of our arrows,” one of the archers said to Herb. “Should we use a rifle?”
“No,” Herb said. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that an anizombie wouldn’t just be standing there? I’m not sure that animal has died and turned into an anizombie yet. Bring me the tranquilizer gun. I’ll dart it. If it can be saved and trained, we could use another dog here.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Trevor Williamson said. “That thing must weigh over a hundred pounds. A dog that size could kill a man in a matter of moments.”
“Trevor, you’re relieved of duty for the rest of the day. Go to your trailer and think about what you did here today,” Herb said angrily.
“I couldn’t take the risk of opening the gate with both humans and an animal zombie close enough to get inside before we could close it,” Trevor said defensively. He was looking toward the other guards who had manned the gate with him in the hopes of getting their support, but none of the four men seemed inclined to speak up on his behalf.
“You were wrong. There was still time to open it when I got here and countermanded your orders,” Herb said sternly. Then he said, “Look, I’m not going to stand here and argue with you. You’re dismissed. Go to your trailer, or anywhere else in the refuge you like, but get away from the gate. I’ll send someone for you later in the day and we’ll discuss your duties in the future. Frankly, after what just happened, I’m inclined to believe it’s time to pull you off of gate duty.”
“That dog is leaving,” one of the other guards reported.
Herb turned away from Trevor and looked out through the fence. He saw the fawn-colored canine trot off toward the forest. “Maybe it’s for the best,” Herb said.
“Look at Ox,” Randy said. “He sure seems interested in that dog.”
Herb glanced in the direction of his friend and saw that Randy was staring to their left along the fence. He looked past his friend’s head and saw the large Pit Bull sitting on his haunches near the fence, fifty or sixty feet from their position.
Herb noted that Ox was staring out at the newcomer. He barked a couple of times, as if to get the attention of the Mastiff. “Well, if that was his plan, it worked,” thought Herb as he turned his attention back to the fawn colored animal. It stopped and turned to face Ox and took a tentative step in his direction, but then it seemed to think better of that course of action and turned back toward the forest. Ox whined loudly, and then he followed the animal along the fence a short distance. He was lifting his nose to the sky, as if seeking an elusive scent that was in the air.
“It’s a female,” Randy announced. He lowered a pair of field glasses and said, “She looked as if she is in heat.”
“Crap,” Herb said. “We’ll have to watch Ox like a hawk or he’ll find a way of get out. She hasn’t turned yet, but she could at any moment. If he approached her then, she’d probably kill him. She must outweigh him by a good twenty to thirty pounds.”
“Yeah, and he probably wouldn’t even fight her. Not with her in heat,” Randy pointed out.
“They’d make some amazing puppies,” one of the men observed. “You should consider it, Herb. They’d come in handy once they matured.”
“They’d eat us out of house and home,” Herb said with a trace of humor evident in the tone of his voice. “There’s no denying that Ox is interested though, and we do need more good guard dogs. Once they were trained, they’d be worth three good men. I’ve seen Ox wake from a sound sleep and get to his feet to face a zombie that hadn’t even come out of the woods yet.”
Herb stared at her with interest as the American Mastiff entered the woods. “I can’t let him out to go to her. There may be more zombies lurking in the trees.”
“She’s gone now, but she knows he’s here. She might come back later,” Randy ventured.
“Yes, she might,” Herb agreed. Then he said, “Sergeant Romine, I know you just got back from your patrol, but I could use your skills.”
“What can I do for you, Herb?” asked Jason. “And I’m not in the military now.”
“None of us are,” Herb acknowledged with a shrug, “but old habits die hard.”
Jason grinned and nodded his understanding.
“When that tranquilizer rifle gets here, I’d like you to stand watch with the other men as the zombie cleanup crew works. Try to dart her if she returns. Randy and I will take a turn at standing watch with it too. If she doesn’t come back by sundown, the odds are, she won’t.”
“Sure, Herb. I can do that for you. No problem.”
“Good. One of us will relieve you in a couple of hours. We need to have a brief meeting,” Herb explained, “and then we’ll be back to assist the cleanup crew. Make sure no one goes out until we get back, and keep the gate closed unless it’s an emergency. Even if you dart the dog, I don’t want anyone going out unless we have a full team ready to assist.”
“I’ll wait here for the rifle, and make sure everyone follows your orders,” Jason promised.
“Thanks, and keep an eye on Ox. He might get it into his head to go under the fence like he has done in the past,” warned Herb.
“We’ll watch him,” Jason promised, including the other men on watch in his pledge.
Herb nodded, and then he turned to Randy and said, “Let’s go to my office. We need to discuss a few things.”
Herb and Randy headed back toward the building that served as the headquarters for the refuge. The little three bedroom log cabin was the original structure on Herb’s land. When the refuge was first established, Herb and Randy, along with Henry and Martha Echols and Amy Jernigan had lived in that cabin. Since then, the Echols had moved into one of the FEMA trailers, as had Amy and Randy. Now Herb and Erma lived in the cabin alone, and he used one of the spare bedrooms as an office where he managed the day-to-day affairs of the refuge.
As they walked toward his cabin, they could see the FEMA trailers that had been set up on land adjoining Herb’s property. An additional section of fence separated the trailers from the rest of the refuge in order to make them more secure in the event of a perimeter breach at the external gate, which was on Herb’s property. The military had fenced in the trailer park and installed guard towers around the perimeter of the refuge.
Next, situated on Herb’s land, they passed a large store, which the military had stocked with food. The canned goods included items such as flour, powdered eggs, powdered milk, and freeze-dried goods, such as meats, fruits, and vegetables. Then they walked past the solar powered clinic, where new arrivals were immunized and given a medical exam
ination. The armory, which was used to store the weapons, ammunition, and accessories the military had given the refuge, was situated behind Herb’s cabin.
The storage containers were harder to spot because they were underground. The bulk of the food the army had delivered was housed in twenty, forty foot long, steel shipping containers, which were buried to protect the contents from temperature extremes. They were accessible via a ground level entrance, leading to a steep staircase, which entered one end of each unit. As the first two containers were emptied, Herb and Randy, along with several other men, had worked to prepare them to house people in the event that the refuge was in danger of being overrun by zombies. At the very least, they could place the noncombatants there for their protection during times of emergency. Herb had his reservations about doing that because it could lead to the people inside being trapped there, but each shelter was stocked with enough food and water to house people for weeks if necessary. The men hoped that would be a sufficient amount of time for the zombies to leave in search of other victims.
The two men entered the cabin and Herb led the way to his office. “What’s wrong?” Randy asked as Herb closed the door.
“Have a seat,” Herb instructed as he walked around the small desk. He sat down in his chair and stared at a piece of paper on top of the desk. “Our communications people picked up some information on the radio. There’s a small group of survivors in Newport, Arkansas. They are barely hanging on at the moment. The place is crawling zombies.”
“You’re considering going after them?” Randy asked.
“I wanted to discuss the idea with you. If we take the rural route, it’s about an eighty mile drive.”
“How many people are we talking about?” Randy asked.
“Eight, and as far as they know, they are the only survivors of a town whose population was almost 8,000 people,” Herb explained. He added, “They’re located in a house on the outskirts of town.”
“Okay, so you’ve just got to decide if you want to risk it,” observed Randy.
“Yeah, and we know next to nothing about what to expect between here and Newport,” Herb pointed out. “We...” Herb was interrupted by the sound of voices shouting. He got up and walked out of the office followed by Randy.
When he opened the cabin door and stepped outside, Herb saw a man running toward him from the gate. Beyond that man, he saw the guards clustered near the gate, aiming weapons at someone or some thing outside the fence.
As the runner drew closer, Herb and Randy began to run toward the gate. “We’ve got a survivor at the gate!” the messenger said as he turned and fell in beside Herb.
Herb nodded his understanding and increased his pace. The other two men followed. When they arrived at the gate, they saw a man wearing a backpack. He was waiting patiently for the defenders to let him inside the refuge.
“Hello, my name’s Herb Bennett,” Herb said introducing himself to the man.
“Hi, Herb. I’m Bill Wiley, and I’m looking for a safe place to live. Is this the Refuge?”
“It is,” Herb replied, as he looked the man over. He thought the man looked okay, but experience had taught them that sometimes a raider would seek to gain entry, so that they could learn as much as possible about a camp. Then they’d leave and return with other men to take what they wanted. That had happened once since they had established the refuge. “How’d you hear about this place?” he asked.
“Dana and I first heard about the Refuge from a traveler we met on the road,” Bill answered. “We separated on the road yesterday. Did she get here ahead of me?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Herb responded.
Bill shook his head sadly and added, “I was hoping she made it. I stopped at a farmhouse late yesterday afternoon. I was looking for a place to shelter for the night. I found a note left by Amy Lions. She left directions for finding this place.”
At the mention of his wife’s name, Randy stepped forward and said, “Well, I’ll be danged if she wasn’t right. She said she thought someone would use that house for shelter someday.” Then he smiled and said, “I’m Randy Lions. Amy’s husband.”
“I’m pleased to meet you. Do you think I could come in now?” Bill asked as he eyed the dead zombies apprehensively. “I’m not really a fighter. I was a computer man prior to the collapse. I put together systems and designed programs for different functions. All these dead zombies are making me more than a bit nervous.”
“Open the gate and let him in the refuge,” Herb instructed the guards. Then he said, “Ox! You get back away from that gate. You’re not going out, boy.”
The dog turned to look at Herb as the men at the gate opened it. He lowered his head a bit and rolled his eyes up to look at Herb. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you want to go after her, but it’s too dangerous,” Herb admonished the dog.
“There’s that other dog again,” one of the guards said quietly.
Jason Romine raised the tranquilizer rifle to his shoulder as Bill slipped through the gate. Herb turned to look for the female Mastiff. Ox took advantage of Herb’s momentary distraction and darted out the gate as the men were closing it.
“Damn! There goes Ox!” Randy said.
“Shit! Open the gate!” Herb said. “Someone give me a rifle,” he added, making it clear that he was about to go out after Ox.
“I’ll go get him,” Randy said. “I’m already in full gear.” Randy could see that his friend was about to refuse his offer, so he added, “Would you want me to go out there in less than full gear?”
Herb shook his head. Randy was right and he knew it. “Go ahead,” he said, “but don’t go into the woods after him.”
“I’ve got the shot,” Jason reported from his position by the fence, but then Ox ran between him and the Mastiff, and Jason held his fire. “Ox is in the way,” he added. “I don’t dare risk hitting him. If he takes a dart, and she was to attack him, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself.”
“I’ll get him,” Randy said, and then he slipped through the gate as the men were still opening it.
The female American Mastiff had left the cover of the woods and stopped in the clearing to watch Ox as he approached her. Ox slowed his gait as he moved toward the female canine, and stopped a couple of feet from her.
“Ox, come here, boy,” Randy said as he headed toward the two dogs.
Both dogs ignored Randy as they inspected each other. They looked relaxed and their tails were wagging, which was a good sign. There was no growling or barking. They sniffed each other’s butts, and then Ox turned to go back to the gate. He stopped and looked around to see if his new friend was following.
The female Mastiff turned to regard Randy, who had stopped well short of the two animals and was waiting to see if Ox could coax her into coming inside the refuge. “It’s okay, girl. You can trust us. We won’t hurt you,” Randy said, speaking in a gentle soothing tone of voice. The dog took a tentative step forward. Ox turned back toward the gate and trotted toward it again. “Come on, girl. It’s time to go in so we can feed you. I’ll bet you’re hungry and thirsty too.”
Randy turned and followed Ox, speaking encouraging words to the female canine in a pleasant tone of voice as he walked.
“I’ll be damned if she isn’t wagging her tail and following you,” Herb said as Randy drew near enough to hear him. Then he pointed to two bowls on the ground and said, “There’s food and water over there. Lead her to it. She seems to trust you.” Turning to the other men near the gate, he motioned for them to back away and give the animal plenty of space.
Randy did as Herb suggested and walked toward the food and water bowls, talking to the animal the entire time.
The fawn colored American Mastiff followed Ox over to the food and water bowls. Ox watched as the female sniffed at both bowls. She drank first, and then she began to eat.
Herb approached the dog as she ate. He held one of the nanobot vaccine syringes cupped in his hand. The dog lifted her head at his appro
ach and stared at him for a moment, so he stopped and looked over at Randy. Her hunger caused her to return to her feeding.
“Maybe I should get Amy,” Randy suggested. “You know she has a way with animals.”
“No. As much as I’d like to pass on this task, I don’t want to risk her getting hurt by a strange animal. You just get ready to get her off me if she attacks,” Herb said.
“Okay,” Randy said.
Herb continued talking to the dog in soothing tones. Ox went to Herb and butted his leg with the top of his big head, demanding the man’s attention. Herb stroked his canine’s head affectionately as he continued to speak to the female and inch closer with Ox by his side. Soon the pair was standing beside the giant Mastiff as she devoured the remaining bits of food in the bottom of the bowl.
Herb reached out to the Mastiff as he continued to speak to her. He stroked her back and she turned her head to face him. Ox helped by crowding in and getting his share of the petting. The female soon shouldered him aside, making it clear that she wanted the man’s attention too. Herb grinned at Ox who yielded his position to the female. “Get used to it, buddy. If things work out for you, she’s going to be bossing you around for a long time to come.”
“I think I resent that,” he heard Erma’s voice say from somewhere nearby.
He turned toward her and saw her standing beside the newcomer, Bill Wiley. “Hi there, babe,” he said to his wife. Then he asked, “Did you give our newest guest his shot?”
“I did, and we’re about to take him to the clinic for his mandatory blood screening and physical,” she responded. “He knows that if he tests positive for the parasite, he’ll have to go into quarantine while the vaccine does its work so he can’t spread it.”
“Okay, but I need to ask him a question first,” Herb said. Turning to look Bill in the eyes, he asked, “Did you lead the zombies here?” When the man hesitated to answer, he added, “You have nothing to fear if you did. We know it can’t be helped. They’ll follow people relentlessly. You wouldn’t be the first man who had to hide from them until we dealt with a zombie pack. It happens. We just need to know, because if it wasn’t you, then there might be someone else out there in need of assistance.”