Winter Apocalypse: Zombie Crusade V

by J. W. Vohs

  Maddy bounced a wadded up napkin off the back of Zach’s head. “Keep it up and I’ll make Gracie send you to time-out until you can play well with others.”

  Luke sucked down half the bottle of water while listening to his friends banter. “I’ve missed you two,” he said, “and I’m glad you’re here. Have there been any updates from Jack or David?”

  “Gracie knows what we know, but Charlotte went to find Carlson. He may have news.” Zach knew enough not to mention the main reason Charlotte had gone off in search of Carlson.

  Luke leaned back and closed his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m not fighting with them. I’ve really let Jack down.”

  Maddy was flabbergasted. “Seriously? You survive a bite and you think you’ve let him down? Do you understand how special you are?”

  “For once, she’s right,” Zach chimed in. “Jack and the other guys can handle the fight up north. It’s what they do. You just need to recover and show the world that it’s possible to survive the infection.”

  Luke had worked the bandage covering his injury loose, and he began to slowly unwrap the gauze with his good hand. Gracie brought over a plate of fresh meat, and Luke eagerly sat up for another serving. He reached for the plate with both hands, but froze when he saw the thick pink scar where there should have been a relatively fresh bite wound.

  Zach whistled. “Damn, that’s totally healed!”

  Luke wasn’t sure what to think, but his hunger told him to attack the plate of steak Gracie had just delivered. He fed himself without assistance, though Gracie did remind him to slow down and chew a few times. When he was done, Gracie checked his pulse again.

  “So what’s the verdict, doctor?” Luke asked playfully. He was feeling better by the minute.

  Gracie tried to keep the worry from her voice. “Uh, you’re alive,” she answered.

  Luke narrowed his eyes, “What are you not telling me?”

  “You have a resting heart rate of thirty-three. Charlotte said a world-class athlete might have a resting heart rate in the low forties.”

  Zach looked from Maddy to Gracie, “Should we be worried about it?” He turned to Luke, “Dude, how do you feel?”

  “I feel like I have to pee. Be a pal and help me to the bathroom.”

  Gracie shook her head. “Babe, I can bring you a bedpan. We just have buckets in there anyway.”

  “No way,” Luke protested as he swung his feet to the floor. “I’m also going to brush my teeth. It feels like they’re covered in fuzz.”

  Zach helped Luke stand, and they both were surprised to find him remarkably steady. It was a short walk to the bathroom, and when they got to the door, Luke said, “I’ll take it from here.”

  “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” Zach promised.

  Luke pulled the door shut and took a step in front of the sink. His peripheral vision caught his reflection in the medicine cabinet, and he turned to face the mirror. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of the haunting, black eyes staring back at him from his own face. He stumbled backwards and hit his head on the corner of the shower. Zach burst through the door at the noise, and Luke looked pleadingly at his friend. “What am I?” he whispered as he sank to the floor. “What have I become?”

  CHAPTER 17

  Three hundred miles north of Vicksburg, the troops sent out from the snowbound train were finding plenty of shovels and few infected. Walking through the drifts was difficult, leaving the tired men even further weakened as they searched for the tools they needed. Stanley Rickers watched the troops as they moved, noticing their lethargy and wondering if shoveling their way through the wake of the blizzard was such a good idea after the ordeal the soldiers had just endured. He was standing guard outside the shattered storefront of a local hardware store when something caught his eye on the eastern horizon. He stared at the object as it faded from view, feeling a dark sense of foreboding as he realized what he had just seen: a Blackhawk helicopter.

  Stanley instantly keyed his radio. “All units, I just saw a Blackhawk flying on the eastern horizon. Suggest we all return to the trains immediately.”

  One by one, the commanders called in and agreed with Stanley’s suggestion, until the order to return finally came through from Hiram, who’d been monitoring all radio traffic. Nobody was more than twenty minutes away from the tracks, and as the units straggled back to the train their commanders were called to the lead car for another council. Hiram asked Stanley for his gut feeling on what the sighting of the chopper meant to their plan.

  The stalwart Hoosier held nothing back. “It was just one helicopter, far on the eastern horizon. With that said, we’ve all seen what just a few of those Blackhawks can bring down on us.”

  “What do you suggest?” the Utah leader asked.

  “Well, if we retreat, we’ll just find ourselves back here again, only with more snow to move if that next storm comes through as predicted. If we string our troops out shoveling drifts and get hit by a surprise attack; we can’t let that happen.”

  Hiram nodded his understanding of what Rickers was suggesting. “So, defend in place for a day and see what develops?”

  “Yeah, that’d be my suggestion. Maybe we can start to inch our way north after dark with NVGS, but even then, we better take it one drift at a time so we can keep everyone close.”

  “I agree. All right, folks, I want the Indiana troops on top of the train. The rest of us will make a horseshoe formation with the boxcars anchoring both flanks. Too bad we aren’t using those fortified cars back in Fort Wayne.”

  A burly captain from the Utah contingent asked. “You think we’ll have to fight here, sir?”

  Hiram looked away for a moment, then frowned and muttered, “If they know we’re here, they’re coming.”

  After Barnes left, Andi couldn’t shake the fear gripping her as she considered what the madman would do to her in the coming days. There was no way Jack could know that she’d lied to the general about their relationship, and once Barnes discovered the truth he would never let her go. Jack would realize that no deal he made with the tyrant could be trusted, so even if he was inclined to negotiate for her release, he wouldn’t agree to any concessions. Andi knew Jack would give himself up if his sacrifice would ensure her safe return to the community and her girls, but with Barnes there was no point in even trying. She had to accept the truth: sooner or later the general would kill her, probably in some terrifying and sadistic way.

  Strangely enough, that realization didn’t frighten her as much as it helped her decide on a firm course of action. She needed to escape, or die trying. Considering that she was locked up in some sort of military facility, her chances of accomplishing either option were extremely low. But even a low probability of success gave her something to focus on besides what Barnes might have in store for her. She knew that if she somehow managed to accomplish the impossible and escape from her captors, she’d be lucky to last twenty-four hours alone and unarmed, with no food, water, or warm clothes to protect her from the elements. It still seemed like a better option than trusting her future to Barnes.

  She checked her pockets to see if her captors had missed anything useful when they searched her. They had left nothing. She had the clothes on her body, and whatever ideas her brain could produce. She mentally dissected her conversation with the unbalanced general, but she couldn’t determine when or even if he would be calling Jack about her. A loud knock interrupted her thoughts, and she smiled at the absurdity of the situation. If she didn’t answer, would they politely go away?

  The door opened several inches and a young man poked his head in. “Uh, Ms. Carrell, the president wants you moved to a high-security residence. If you’re ready, we’ll escort you now.”

  Andi laughed out loud. “I suppose my other plans can wait.”

  The guard looked confused, and Andi thought he didn’t look any older than her high school students back home. “I was joking,” she explained. “Not very funny, I know.” Once in the hall
they were met by an older woman, probably in her fifties, who handed the young soldier some paperwork on a clipboard. He took about a minute filling out the forms before ushering Andi to an elevator, clipboard and several papers still in hand.

  “I guess bureaucracy can survive just about anything,” Andi commented.

  “What? Oh, I get it, the routing papers.” The guard reached in his pocket and took out a packet of gum. He took a piece for himself and offered one to Andi.

  “No thanks; I’ve never been much of a gum-chewer.” The elevator doors opened and Andi briefly considered making a run for it. They were on the first floor of some sort of government building, with armed guards stationed by the elevators and the doors leading outside. She wondered what would happen to her young escort if she managed to get herself shot here in the lobby. She decided that she didn’t want him to find out. “Where did you say we were going?”

  The soldier steered her out of the elevator. “High-security residence, ma’am.” He presented his paperwork at a check-out desk, where it was initialed and time-stamped. “I think you’ll like it—there’s some real nice housing here.”

  “Where’s here?” she tried to sound casual.

  “Wright-Patterson, ma’am, Dayton. It’s about the best place you can be these days if you’re stuck in the Midwest.”

  Andi was surprised by the soldier’s openness. Then she decided that he probably didn’t see any reason to be guarded with her—she didn’t pose any threat to this place. She tried to remember everything she could about the area; she’d visited Dayton with her club volleyball team in high school, driving over in a small bus for an AAU tournament hosted by the city. She also remembered driving through the area on I-75 as a child every spring break, when her parents would take her to Florida for the week. Trying to picture a map in her head, she knew that Dayton was in central Ohio. Well, not really. It was more in southwestern Ohio, but the state was huge. Cincinnati was in the same region, but not exactly close in the post-apocalyptic world.

  The young guard escorted Andi to a waiting van. There was another exchange of paperwork before he slid open the side door of the vehicle and wished her well. “Have a nice day, ma’am,” he said before leaving her with two female soldiers. Andi climbed in the back of the van and noticed that it was separated from the front by bullet-proof glass. She couldn’t see outside except through the main windshield, but as they drove through the base, she could tell that Wright-Patterson was a bustling place on this cold winter day.

  The van pulled in the driveway of a large Tudor house. After what Andi assumed was a security check, they continued into the three-car garage. With her weapon drawn, the van driver led Andi into the house through a large, modern kitchen, then up a back staircase to a small sitting area.

  “Wait here.” The driver motioned to a small couch, then she used the handle of her weapon to rap on a large door opposite the stairs.

  A grandmotherly woman emerged and beamed at Andi. “We’ve been waiting for you, dear. Now, don’t be frightened, we’re going to take very good care of you. President Barnes has given you the entire master suite!”

  Andi felt as if she’d slipped into an episode of the Twilight Zone. She followed the old woman down a long hall, paying careful attention to the details of her surroundings. The carpet was thick, the light fixtures were expensive, and the old woman never stopped talking.

  “. . . took the liberty of stocking the fridge for you. The wine is excellent, so I hope you’re not a teetotaler. The tomatoes are from our greenhouse, and so are the flowers. Are you a gardener, Ms. Carrell? Well, of course you are. You’re from Indiana, right? That’s a state for farmers and gardeners. Ooh, and fishermen—I caught a six pound smallmouth at a private lake in Northern Indiana when I was a girl. Well, here we are.” She stopped in front of an ornate mahogany door and entered a code on a keypad. “Do you like to fish?” she asked as she pushed open the door.

  Andi smiled at the woman, and waited a beat to see if she was actually expected to answer. She wasn’t.

  “Now there’s plenty of hot water, so don’t be shy about using it. ‘Course you won’t get any television stations, but you can watch movies if you want to. Right now I expect you’ll want to grab a bite to eat and get cleaned up. Maybe get cleaned up first, dear. I’ll give you some privacy. If you need anything press the red button on the intercom right here.” She pointed to a small box on the wall as she backed out of the room and pulled the door shut.

  The instantaneous silence was jarring. The first thing Andi did was sprint to the window, but no view was available through the tinted architectural glass. She wondered if it was actually glass, or if she’d be able to break it or any other windows in the suite. She scanned the living room and noted the large fireplace. It appeared to be gas, which provided another option for escape. When her eyes settled on the small refrigerator in the corner wet-bar, her stomach actually growled. The fridge was well-stocked, and included a large Greek salad with a note taped to it that said, “Let me know if you don’t like feta. –Thelma”

  Andi ate the salad, a large plate of cheese and crackers, and a candy bar. She decided that if they were going to poison her, she would happily cooperate. She wandered into the bedroom and found a robe and slippers laid out across a luxurious king-sized bed. The master bathroom was huge, and there was a basket of various soaps, shampoos, hair conditioners, and lotions sitting by the sink. She briefly wondered if there were surveillance cameras in the bathroom as she stripped off her clothes, but again decided that she simply didn’t care. She spent over an hour enjoying a hot shower and scrubbing away layers of grime. Then she climbed in bed, pulled the covers over her head, and slept until Thelma poked at her several hours later.

  “Excuse me, dear,” the matronly woman prodded, “you’ll be having dinner with President Barnes in half an hour, and I expect you’d like to wake up and get dressed.”

  Andi peeked out from under the comforter. “I don’t have any clothes here,” she pointed out, her voice gravelly from being awakened so abruptly.

  “Why, there’s a whole closet full of clothes you can choose from; I’m sure you’ll be able to find something.” She smiled and patted Andi through the covers. “You’re a lucky woman, you know. The president is a very busy man; some people have been waiting to speak with him for months. You must really be special.” She winked, which made Andi feel sick to her stomach.

  “Well, he did threaten to give me to the troops as a plaything before feeding me to some of the infected. Does that make me special?”

  Thelma briefly frowned, then waved her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. “You’re here aren’t you? You must have misunderstood him. Now get dressed, and I’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”

  The tough, disciplined soldiers from Utah somehow found the strength to set aside their weariness, and build themselves a defensive structure with the material at hand. They had shoveled a ten-meter wide path in the shape of a giant horseshoe, with the ends of the U cleared right up to the edge of the train. Every ounce of snow the troops lifted was deposited inside of the path, where it was packed into a small hill of ice by the men without shovels. Once that was accomplished, spades and axes cut tiers around the circumference of the mounds, each of them wide enough for a man to stand and fight upon. In effect, the westerners had created their own high ground.

  On top of the boxcars, Rickers had strung out his company along the length of the open end of the horseshoe formation below. Hundreds of extra pikes had been unloaded from the supply car, stacked into bundles every ten meters so the soldiers could easily access them when their own weapons inevitable broke or were snatched away. Hiram called up to Stanley and asked if he could see anything on the horizon.

  “Nope, we’ve sure done a lot of work if we don’t get attacked here.”

  “Hey,” Hiram retorted, “Roman legions dug themselves a fort every night before they called it a day. Those guys knew a thing or two about fighting.”

/>   “Good point,” Stanley shouted down. He was just about to ask Hiram how many years he’d served in the legions until one of his soldiers grabbed his arm.

  “Look, sir, to the north.”

  Stanley squinted against the post-storm sunlight that still brightly illuminated the snowy terrain, even as dark clouds to the west were slowly approaching. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he muttered.

  “What is it?” Hiram yelled.

  “Two choppers, headed this way.”

  Hiram didn’t need to ask if a horde of hunters was following the helicopters; every instinct he’d learned to rely on since the beginning of the outbreak was screaming a warning of approaching danger. “I’ll form up the troops. Good luck up there.”

  “Be careful down there; and don’t worry about your flank.”

  “So, Ms. Carrell, I hear you are a vegetarian. That just won’t do; we’re having Chicken Kiev tonight.” Barnes poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Andi. “Shall we toast to the valiant fighters defending their train in Iowa?”

  Andi’s mind raced as she tried to figure out who might be in Iowa, but she managed to sound calm, “I don’t know anybody in Iowa, but if they’re fighting your infected I’m more than happy to salute them.” She tapped Barnes’ glass and downed her wine in one gulp.

  Barnes looked at her quizzically and refilled her glass. “Perhaps you really don’t know that Jack and his friends are on their way back north, probably on their way to save Fort Wayne after it has already fallen.” He paused, waiting for a reaction.

  Andi knew she should never trust anything that Barnes said, but it made sense that Jack and the others would try to get back to Indiana as quickly as possible once they heard that Fort Wayne was under attack. The key was “quickly” – an army of soldiers would likely travel by train, but Jack had helicopters at his disposal. She hoped that since Barnes was obviously lying about Jack, maybe he was lying about everything. “So you’re trying to tell me that Jack is on a train somewhere in Iowa, under attack by one of your hunter armies? I suppose that’s possible, but I don’t think it’s very probable.”