Ranger Martin and the Zombie Apocalypse

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Ranger Martin and the Zombie Apocalypse Page 11

by Jack Flacco


  When he reached the opening to the canyon, he tossed the backpack over his shoulders and hopped on the rocks, scaling the face of it to reach the summit. The thoughts would not leave him. He bore witness to many kills by his hands.

  Climbing to the top of the rock, Ranger received great satisfaction from his achievements as a zombie killer. With every rock he scaled, every ledge he conquered, and with every push upward, he renewed his strength knowing his life has meaning in the face of drama. He had no other friend except his sidearm at his disposal.

  The durable sawed off shotgun came to his possession in the oddest of ways. In the early days of the apocalypse, when his pickup had broken down with a flat in the middle of the highway, and the only living being rested twenty miles from his location, he had run into a jeep filled with gun supplies. He didn’t think anything of it, until he saw the jeep’s flat. Then he had noticed spikes trailing across the road, put there on purpose by a malevolent soul. Ranger had no clue the incident would spark his first encounter with the undead.

  Searching the jeep for a radio, he found a loaded, military-issue sawed-off shotgun instead. When grasping the weapon for the first time, he had a moment of enlightenment. He knew the weapon and he belonged together. At the same time, it happened that his first zombie kill had appeared, dressed in military garb, sporting an awkward crew cut that reminded him of a rotting head of cabbage with a festering vegetable disease eating away at its core. The monster took hold of Ranger, and sunk its teeth into his shoulder. Not knowing what had attacked him, Ranger spun around and saw his first bone-cracker. He could never forget the rocking of the monster. The decay in its sunken cheeks. The stench of rot, and the glare from its malevolent yellow eyes. Without a doubt, the creature had ill intentions pouring from its groan. He attempted to get away, taking the shotgun with him. But another zombie appeared and had him trapped.

  For the first time, Ranger lifted the gun that would belong to him for life, aimed it at the offending beast and pulled the trigger. No response. The safety disabled the firing mechanism. Of course, he hadn’t known about the safety. To compensate, the zombie’s neck met with the shotgun’s butt. As he had backed away, with the first zombie screaming in agony on the ground, he attempted to find the safety and switch it off. The second one chased him out in the middle of the desert while he tried to pull the trigger again and again on the beast. To no avail, the beast had kept coming for him at every failed click.

  That is, until Ranger found and flicked the safety off, pointed the weapon at the zombie’s chest and blew a hole clean through the entity, releasing a green spew of liquid from its body. Convinced the beast met its final demise and empowered by his newfound calling, Ranger loped across the desert to where the other zombie staked its territory near the jeep. He aimed the gun at the evil’s head and pulled the trigger, releasing the corpse of the curse that had befallen it.

  Ranger then had searched the vehicle for ammunition for his new best friend. Once he had found it, he strode to his truck at a leisure pace, not knowing the zombie with the hole in its chest scampered from the desert to attack the fledgling superhero. Ranger would have been dead hadn’t his acute hearing sensed the sound of running footsteps. A few feet short of the zombie grabbing him in its clutches, he aimed the barrel at the eater’s head and pulled the trigger.

  It had fallen in a puddle of its own juices.

  Not only did that day create a hero, it also solidified Ranger’s knowledge of the zombie’s weakness. Destroy the brain. Destroy the zombie. The perfect solution in his arsenal for fighting the pond scum.

  As he reached the apex of the cliff, his mind focused on the goal of pulling himself over the edge. With one arm, he dragged his weight to the surface as he brought his body over. Panting, he stared at the crystal blue sky. The ferocious sun pounded on him like a known friend. He enjoyed the outdoors giving him life when all around him lay death.

  Inhaling deeply, a smile crept on his face. Ranger had a ways to go to get to his truck. It didn’t bother him though. He lived in his element. Those in his past who never understood who he was before the change, turned into the monsters who roamed the earth. His revenge came in the form of the entire world transforming.

  With the sweat dripping from his face, his smile grew wider as his thoughts traveled to when he lived his life as a truck driver, on the road for three hundred and sixty days a year. One of his recollections soaked his brain like milk on a cookie. He drew his energy from those memories.

  On the road, he encountered a stranded car in the middle of the highway in Utah. The company he worked for never condoned picking up hitchhikers in the wild. At least that’s what he called it. But this hitchhiker proved a challenge, even for his untamed ways.

  She stood five-seven, dark haired and endowed. Ranger had to stop. No way he’d let an opportunity like this go.

  He pulled his 18-wheeler to the side of the highway, just ahead of the white SAAB. When he stepped out, he tucked his shirt into his belt, primped his hair and eased his Oklahoma City Thunder cap on his head.

  “What seems to be the problem Ma’am?” Ranger asked.

  “I don’t know, it just died.”

  “These new fangled automobiles are all computerized nowadays. It’ll be a miracle if it starts again. If you’d like, I can take a look at it anyway.”

  “Thanks, I would appreciate your help.”

  “Think nothing of it Ma’am. We’ll get you back on the road in no time.” He walked to the front of the car. “Can you open’er up, Ma’am?”

  “Sure.” She popped the hood and joined him. “By the way, my name is Darla.”

  “What a pretty name.” He shook her hand. “My name is Ranger, pleased to meet you.”

  “Pleased to meet you, too. Beats calling me Ma’am.”

  “Oh, Sorry about that, Darla. I meant no disrespect. I was just showing you courtesy.” He gave her a smile, and looked at the engine.

  She smiled, matching his.

  As the sun raised higher, Ranger’s smile remained intact. With the palm of his hand he wiped the water trickling from his forehead. The once comfortable crevice overlooking the Arizona desert turned into a frying pan. He rose, picked the backpack from the ground, peered to the dry, deserted landscape, and sighed. The majesty of the golden brown cliffs, red desert, and strong mountains would have kept him there longer. But he didn’t feel like dying of sun stroke. Not today, at least. One final look and he was gone.

  Slugging his backpack around his shoulders, he peered at the path below. It ran all the way down the side of the cliff. In a careful approach, he descended again to the depths of the canyon. One foot after the other, the sound of his steps made a faint echo on the other side. Memories swamped his being again, a continuation of where he’d left off.

  “How long have you been a truck driver?” Darla asked in the coffee shop booth while the rain pounded hard outside on the window sill.

  “A long time. As soon as I got my license.” He spoke with a fragile voice. “I knew what I wanted to be when my uncle was smart enough to give me the keys to his rig.”

  Darla drank her coffee, sipping in spurts to avoid the scalding heat. “Ever wanted to be anything else?”

  Ranger laughed, “I always wanted to be a superhero. Well, you see how that would be a problem, considering I don’t have super powers. So, I settled as a truck driver.”

  She laughed. “Who said you need superpowers? Batman doesn’t. You need to stand for good and remain true to yourself.”

  “What if my definition of good is not what everyone expects?”

  “If your definition of good causes you to second guess yourself then you’re already on your way."

  “Well,” he’d nodded, “I suppose I am a superhero after all.”

  At once, Ranger found himself at the top of the crevice admiring the rocks again. A corpse attacked him from behind. It dragged him with one arm under his chin to the center of an awaiting zombie mob. Surrounded, they glared at
him. He didn’t know what to do. Nothing could save him.

  He awoke in his bed in the military silo, panting and sweating. His hands felt like rubber, his legs like iron. He’s had dreams like these before, but never so vivid, never so real. The demons in his soul haunted him every night. He had to put a stop to them. He’d resolved to fix it in the morning. No way did he want this to continue to make his life a semblance of hell. He shook his head. No way.

  Chapter 13

  The morning brought the fresh smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. If anyone didn’t know better, Ranger had grown an extra few lines on his forehead from the dreams the night before.

  “We have to go to Utah.” Ranger said, a partial smile creeping on his face.

  “What?” Wildside shook his head. “Are you crazy? The last time we went in there, we nearly came back with our asses in a sling. No way am I going back!”

  “We’re going back.” Ranger dumped the file he found at Matthew Airbase on the table. He grabbed a cup from the shelf and poured some coffee.

  “Matty, try to reason with him, convince him we can’t do that.”

  “What’s the big deal, Ranger? What’s so special about Utah?”

  Ranger leaned against the counter and pointed at the file with the hand holding the cup of coffee. “If we don’t go in, the change is going to spread throughout the world.”

  Wildside grabbed the file with keen interest. He perused the maps, diagrams and memos as the discussion continued with the others at the table.

  “Ranger. Are you sure we have to do this?” Randy asked. “Look at us, we’re kids. And then, there’s you.”

  Ranger placed his drink on the counter. With a glare, he approached Randy. “Think how you felt when you found out of how your parents died. Do you want the same thing happening to others in the world? We have to stop it here and now. If we don’t, there won’t be any of us left to rebuild this vacant planet.”

  Matty rolled her eyes. “Oh brother, now you’re going to tell us we’re humanity’s last hope. As if we could really make a difference.”

  Having read the file, Wildside said, “It says here these experiments have been going on since the fifties.”

  “What experiments?” Randy asked.

  “Plasma mineral extraction. The government has been harvesting blood components to create a stockpile of wealth for the elite.” He paused, waiting for everyone to catch up with what he said. “We’re nothing but product.”

  “You mean to say this whole thing is nothing more than a mining expedition for minerals in our blood?”

  A silence fell on the room.

  “Hold on a second.” Randy remembered Katlyn County Jail’s infirmary, and how the IV hookups with the green liquid looked next to the beds. “I may have lost my memory and all, but even to me, being brain damaged, this sounds too farfetched.”

  While Matty rubbed her eyes and Wildside pinched his chin, Jon had his own ideas of what he thought of the plasma mineral extractions. “I saw this movie once where people were the resource of the story and aliens came down to harvest them.”

  “That was War of the Worlds.” Matty said.

  “Yeah, so maybe this government conspiracy theory is not so farfetched after all.”

  Wildside raised his left eyebrow. “It says here, Temple City is the home base for the change. The—the government knew all along. They’re the ones doing it.”

  “Temple City, wasn’t that where fifty percent of Utahans worshiped a god?”

  She shook her head ignoring Jon’s question. “If it’s the home base then why do we have to go there? What are we stopping?”

  Staring in one spot, biting his thumb, Randy couldn’t deny it any longer. “The whole thing is not about mineral extraction. It’s about population control. Those bones I came across in county jail were not of humans, but of zombies. Once the government finished with the bodies, they got rid of them the best way they knew how.”

  “What was that?” Matty asked.

  “Fire.”

  Walking back to the counter, Ranger took a sip of his coffee from the cup he had left on the counter. “We’re going to need more firepower.”

  “I’m coming with you this time!” Jon protested.

  “You’re staying here and I’m not even sure what Ranger means by ‘more firepower.’” Matty tapped the top of the table with her index finger.

  The moment when she said those words, Ranger pulled Wildside’s most coveted prize from his pocket. He slammed it on the table, right in front of everyone’s eyes, including Wildside’s.

  “I can’t believe you got it.” Wildside grabbed Ranger’s gift and beheld it in his hands to gawk at for what seemed an eternity.

  “What is that?” Jon asked.

  An ominous tone came from his throat. “The detonator.”

  * * *

  In the afternoon, Ranger led the kids outside to the garage door behind the silo’s main entrance, an area unknown to any of the visitors except to Wildside. Slipping a key into the access panel next to the door, Ranger turned the latch, and pushed the button underneath. The door made a clanging sound and lifted to the anticipating eyes of Randy, Matty and Jon.

  The telltale smirk Ranger kept hidden for those times when he took pleasure in something returned. Inside the garage, two Range Rovers, one navy blue and the other midnight black stood parked in pristine condition.

  “Whoa,” Matty said, “If I didn’t know better, these are why you’re called Ranger.”

  “Wow!” Jon’s mouth crashed to the ground.

  “Pretty cool, huh?” Wildside stared at the beauties.

  “Where did you get these?” Randy asked.

  “In the city.” Ranger answered. “They were having a Black Friday blowout sale.”

  A chuckle came from Wildside.

  “So what are we supposed to do with these, Ranger?” Matty asked, getting the feeling she asked the stupidest question on the planet.

  “First, we’re going to Nevada to look for a place marked on one of the maps included in the Matthew’s file. Wildside ran a check on the area and nothing’s there in any of the satellite images. I’m curious. Second, we’re going to Utah. There’s a military zone set up along the perimeter of Worship Square in Temple City. We need to get to that perimeter, breach it and take control. Once we—”

  “Are you insane?” Matty ripped her gaze from the trucks and stomped into Ranger’s face. “The place is crawling with who-knows-what, and you want to walk in and say, ‘excuse me, I was wondering if you could tell me where your command center is’, and take it over? You’re out of your mind!”

  “Listen to me, Matty. Listen to me carefully. Wildside and I have been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time. We knew the change was not an infection. We also knew the government was involved, but we didn’t know to what extent. We now have confirmation from a file I stole from Matthew’s that a home base exists from where the change originated. I want to go in there and wipe it off the map.”

  “You know, Ranger, I’ve known you a full four days—”

  “Four-and-a-half.” Jon blurted.

  “Fine. Four-and-a-half. Right from that first night, a zombie almost made my little brother its entrée in a gas station. The next afternoon, eaters had you, me and my brother again trapped in the back of a truck on a highway ready to sink their teeth into our necks. And just last night, me and Randy nearly became single serving appetizers for an all-you-can-eat zombie-fest at the airbase. What else? Oh, yeah. Now you want to go into the heart of Satan’s brothel so you can play exterminator? You’re—”

  “I never asked you to come to the airbase. You planted your ass in my cab and you insisted on coming!”

  “He’s got a point.” Jon stuck his nose into it again.

  “Shut up!” Matty snapped at Jon.

  Randy and Wildside stared at each other, each wanting to smile, grin, anything, but couldn’t. A stomach gurgle came from their direction. All this talk about e
ntrées and appetizers made one of the boys hungry.

  “Are you done with your tantrum?” Ranger asked.

  Matty crossed her arms.

  “You’re headstrong. I got that. You don’t like anyone telling you what to do. That makes two of us. You can spot when an idea is so insane it would need a crew of lunatics to execute. I’m not gonna argue, I think you’re right. It is insane.” He threw his gaze to his feet. “But I need your help, Matty. You’ve got a mean streak. You know how to use a gun. If it hadn’t been for you when I went back to get my shotgun at that Miller’s Foods truck, and those gut-churners began piling in, I would have never made it out alive.”

  Jon joined Wildside and Randy. Staring at Ranger and Matty, the three boys now wondered the same thing. What was she thinking after he had asked for her help?

  Matty uncrossed her arms. “You need me?”

  He cocked his head slightly to the right and shrugged.

  “You’re a pretty good liar, Ranger. I don’t know what you have planned. I’m sure it involves gasoline, fireballs and explosions. Whatever it is, I’m in. But I have to ask you one question. Are we all coming back alive?”

  Ranger threw his hands in a presentation-like manner. “Wildside?”

  “We’ve been through worse.”

  Matty didn’t bark anymore, satisfied with their answer.

  “You know,” Randy said, “there are going to be zombies everywhere.”

  “Yeah.” Ranger smiled. “I’m counting on it.

  * * *

  Late in the morning the next day, heading southwest on I-15 to Nevada, Ranger drove Matty and Jon in the black Range Rover while Wildside drove Randy in the blue, towing a hitch. Tied down by ropes, a brown canvas matching the desert covered the top of it. Whatever it was back there, it was something big.

  In the first truck, Ranger glanced at Matty several times as she stared straight ahead on the road. He held back his usual chatter hoping she would say something first. He didn’t have to wait long for her to open her mouth.

 

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