Home Base

by C M Hoffmann

  Mallory, “I suppose so, if you think it’s safe?”

  “Justin, if you promise to be super careful, let Mr. Beau help you up to the roof. You get the most important job of all. I need you to be lookout while he is in the backyard working.”

  Justin jumps with excitement, “I can do that!”

  “If you see anything, don’t scream, but make sure you tell Mr. Beau right away.”

  Justin snaps his legs together and puffs out his chest, “Yes ma’am, Headquarters.”

  Scarlett giggles and pats Justin’s head.

  Beau, “Come on, little buddy, let’s get you up top.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Fred stands in front of forty four volunteers. A mixture of twenty seven police officers and seventeen civilians. He surveys the new members of his task force as only a military and law enforcement veteran can. He sees which ones have the fire of determination against all odds for the protection of their families. He notices the nervous fidget-ers who want to be helpful but are lacking confidence in their abilities. And then he picks out his stone members, resolute in the face of danger; mission ready. Scattered amongst them all are the true leaders, they’re calming the fidget-ers, reassuring the self-conscious, and letting the seasoned statues be the beacons of hope for the believers ready to put themselves on the line for the betterment of their community. He mentally maps out his future subgroups so that each can have a delicate and well standing balance of efficiency. Unfortunately, he realizes there is a discrepancy in the division of force. He imperceptibly shakes his head, tucking the problem away to be dealt with later as the Chief stands in front of them.

  Chief, “Thank you all for volunteering. As I told you all before: at any time prior to leaving for Laplace you can remove yourself from Task Force Recovery; however, once it begins you are in it ‘til the end. We need people we can trust not to lose their shit. So gather it all now and make your decision. This is Fred, he will be leading this task force. From the moment you leave you do exactly what he says.”

  Fred, “Mind if I take it from here, Chief?”

  “By all means.”

  Fred turns and faces the crowd, “I’m not going to hand you some BS about saving the world because we all know the world’s probably lost by now. We all have friends and family here. Here is our home. Whether or not this is where you lived before the Turn or not makes no difference now. We’ve got two choices in this new world. We either stick together or we go at it alone. No one is going to think any less of you for looking out for you and yours first. But I swear, if you choose to come on this little field trip, you are mine. I need you focused. I will not die because of someone having mixed feelings when the time comes. I have a wife and four kids and the best adopted family I can ask for and I’ll be damned if I leave them without me for the rest of their time on earth. I want you all to choose now. Right here; right now. If you’re going to come with me then you’re with me; if you decide differently, then feel free to leave. I’ll give you a minute to think it over.”

  A faceless voice echoes from the middle of the group, “I’m in it to win it! Let’s get this shit done!” A few cheers go up around the crowd, mostly other police officers.

  Another voice raises up, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’d rather face the end with a thousand allies to take care of my family when it’s my time to go than let them fend for themselves.” More cheers of agreement sound out.

  Fred, “Then easiest way to do this, by a show of hands, ARE YOU WITH ME?“ Every hand in the crowd goes up. “Good to know. Keep in mind that if you try to turn tail when the shit hits the fan, I’ll shoot you myself.”

  Chief, “Then welcome to Task Force Recovery, gentlemen.” The sole woman in the crowd clears her throat loudly and deliberately. “Excuse me, and lady.”

  Fred, “Now line up in four rows. I want to see what you have to bring with us.”

  He walks up and down the lines making introductions and suggestions with weapons and gear. Thankfully, most of the long guns are AR-15s, some shotguns all twelve gauge, there’s a couple of AK47s and one SKS, the handguns are various and plentiful. After his inspections, Fred walks back to the front of the group.

  Fred, “Most of you seem pretty sound in terms of gear, we’ll get to basic drills...” At the sound of some sighs and disapproving grunts in the group, Fred pauses, “... yes even the cops, we can all use some refresher courses. Nothing elaborate just the basics. I’ll expect y’all that know what you’re doing to help the ones who don’t. But, before all that, let’s take a look at the vehicles. Then we’ll break into groups by vehicles. When we do that, remember who’s in your vehicle. Do a headcount any time we stop. We’re going to do our best not to lose anyone by forgetting them. Good news is looks like we have an overabundance of vehicles so we’ll probably take eleven and make it even with four in each vehicle with me as an extra in one of them. Enough rambling, to the vehicles, I want everyone’s positive opinions on vehicle condition and capability. Task Force Recovery, get to work.”

  Task Force Recovery begins their long task of making sure every vehicle being utilized is in proper working order, has a gas tank big enough that they won’t need to find fuel, and is spacious enough to carry four members plus gear. In the end they settle on eight pickup trucks and three SUVs in various colors.

  Fred, “Now that we’ve got our transportation, I need all polices officers over there and the civilians over here. We’re going to start doing drills.” More groans are heard around the group, “Tighten it up people! You may have to stake your life on the man or woman standing next to you or in front of you and I’m sure you’ll want to know they have at least some inclination on what to do. Now line up!”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Throughout the morning Two-Six continues canvassing their way through the city streets. Legacy and Basher are cruising along for close to two hours with no activity to speak of. Wade starts to nod off in Trey’s truck as he is the only one of the four that never patrolled streets at night. The boredom wears on, taking a toll on the already tired operators. The quiet morning is disturbed only when a transmission comes over the radio.

  Pops, “Legacy One, Headquarters.”

  Scarlett, “Legacy One.”

  “Going to be out with a large group of possible lurkers around the fifteen hundred block of Taylor.”

  “Ten four, still got Basher out there? Or, do you need more?”

  “Yea they’re still with us. We should be able to handle it, but there looks to be more joining the group. Make sure Ninja and Spartan are listening.”

  “Ten four, copy Ninja, Spartan?”

  Cane, “Roger that, headquarters. All’s quiet on the north for the moment. We’ll start heading that way until they have a code. Also, Ninja will be following us over.”

  “Ten four.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Back at Cane’s house in the makeshift communications room, Mallory quickly jots down the notes on the dry erase board. Marie is doodling between standard channel one traffic. They can hear Beau on the roof: hammering and moving boards for the platform. Mallory catches up on her note taking and sets her marker down.

  Mallory, “What’s a code?”

  Scarlett, “There’s five ‘codes’ but mainly we only use code one, three, or four. But, for this particular and most used meaning, they said they’ll be on their way to Legacy and Basher until they have a ‘code four’. Code four means they are all good and do not need further assistance. So if Legacy or Basher says code four before they get there then there’s no reason to go. See what I me...”

  Scarlett is instantly cut off and her heart skips a beat at the sound of Trey over the radio with shots being fired in the background, “BASHER ONE, WE NEED HELP! FORTY OR SO LURKERS, A DOZEN HUNTERS, AND AT LEAST TWO RAVAGERS JUST SHOWED UP, SEND EVERYONE!”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Wyatt sits lazily but attentively staring out the passenger window of Cane’s truck, “Think they’ll actually need u
s over there?”

  Cane, “Probably not, but since we’ve seen the ravager for the first time, can’t be too careful. No telling if they all eventually turn that way, or if it’s only a select few. Did you understand the codes?”

  “Yea, I knew those beforehand.”

  “Glad you remember something I told you.”

  Cane stomps the gas instinctively the moment he hears his brother over the radio, the transmission that every police officer anywhere fears will come, “BASHER ONE, WE NEED HELP! FORTY OR SO LURKERS, A DOZEN HUNTERS, AND AT LEAST TWO RAVAGERS JUST SHOWED UP, SEND EVERYONE!”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Scarlett, “Basher one, advise your location! Marie, give me the other radio!”

  Marie is momentarily dumbstruck by the amount of chaos in a six second radio transmission, Scarlett has to reach around the table and snatch the radio herself.

  Scarlett over channel one, “Any unit in the area of fifteen hundred Taylor, Two-Six is SIGNAL RED! Any available personnel respond Code Three...”

  Trey, “HEADQUARTERS! THEY’RE CLOSING IN BOTH SIDES! GET US MORE BODIES!”

  Scarlett, channel five, “Units are en route, Basher One, advise your exact location.”

  Cane, “Headquarters, we’ll be there in a few seconds. Trey, where y’at?!”

  Gavin, “CANE, COME FROM THE NORTH, USE THAT VEHICLE!”

  Scarlett, channel one, “Any unit copy? Please respond!”

  Officer, “Roger headquarters, we’re a minute or two out running code three, what’s the issue.”

  Scarlett, channel one, “Task Force Two-Six is under attack by an unknown number of possible lurkers and hunters and at least two ravagers.”

  Cane, “HEADQUARTERS! WE’RE 10-97! LEGACY, BASHER, WATCH YOUR FIRE, MOVE!!”

  Scarlett holds her breath.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Cane white knuckles the steering wheel as he hits a turn threatening to roll the truck, “Wyatt, when we hit this corner, I’m plowing through them. Spot the ravagers for me.”

  Wyatt has a death grip on the forward ‘oh-shit’ handle as he leans against the turn, “Roger, got it, punch that shit.”

  Cane’s truck swings around the corner and keys up his radio, “HEADQUARTERS! WE’RE 10-97! LEGACY, BASHER, WATCH YOUR FIRE, MOVE!!” Cane guns the engine as he catches sight of a mass of stumbling corpses. Not far beyond them are the members of Legacy and Basher scrambling for cover. As the truck thunders on, a ravager darts out in the street from the side of a house, it bounces off the front bumper of the truck and its leg is caught by the tire. The ravager is pulverized underneath the truck as it powers forward.

  Wyatt, “What’s the plan, Big?”

  Cane, “Look for the ravagers, since they’ll probably be harder to put down. We’re gonna let the truck do the work. Radio Ninja and tell them to do the same.”

  Wyatt keys the radio, “Ninja, aim the truck for the ravagers.”

  Rapp, “Ten four, we’re on your six.”

  Wyatt points, “Ravager, ten o’clock.”

  Cane maneuvers the truck aiming for the grotesque animated corpse, “Got his ass.” The unsuspecting ravager is caught full force in its back by the truck traveling fifty five miles an hour, it is almost completely torn in half by the force. “Do you see any others?” The truck slows as they search for more targets of opportunity.

  Fitz, “Spartan, ravager on your six, looks like it’s chasing the truck.”

  Cane, “You’ve got to be kidding me, Wyatt, keep an eye...” He’s cut off by a loud thud coming from the rear of the truck. The ravager took advantage of the slowing of the truck and pounced into the bed. It immediately begins to pound on the roof and back glass of the truck. “Fuck! Wyatt, shoot this motherfucker please!” He keys up the radio again, “Ninja, don’t stay behind us!”

  Wyatt draws his Glock and begins to fire through the back glass of the truck. The roar of the cartridges exploding in the enclosed truck mere inches from their ears makes Spartan hear nothing but a loud ringing and the vibrations in the air stand their hair on edge.

  Cane focuses hard on the group of steves in front of the truck and tries to aim for them with the fifty-five hundred pound weapon. He tries to keep his mind off the deafness in his ears, ‘One, two...three, five, eight down. Come on you bitches line up and die. Fuck, I can’t hear shit!’ he thinks to himself.

  Wyatt screams despite the lack of sound, “FUCK YOU! JUST DIE ALREADY!”

  The ravager isn’t going down in the bed of the truck. Wyatt tries to reload when the ravager reaches through the shattered back glass and begins grasping at them. Cane is caught on the side of the face and three neat lines are drawn across his cheek. Another swipe from the ravager and Wyatt catches an exposed phalange across the forehead and his left ear.

  Rapp, “Op, d, uck!” is the muffled transmission barely heard by Spartan.

  Fitz, “Ane! top, d, am, tuck!” still misunderstood by Cane.

  Wyatt moves to fire again when he finally gains enough hearing to understand Rapp over the radio, “STOP!” Wyatt smacks Cane in the shoulder and motions with his hand to stop. When Cane nods, Wyatt immediately begins to unload another magazine into the ravager. Cane locks up the brakes on the truck and the ravager goes momentarily airborne over the roof. Cane and Wyatt bail from the truck and each fire into the downed ravager’s face at point blank range.

  Cane’s vest is grabbed and he is yanked away from the truck. He flails his arms and kicks backwards at whatever has taken him. Trey materializes in front of him and slaps him across the face. He can see Trey speaking to him but can’t hear a sound. He points to his ear and shakes his head in the language barrier destroying juggernaut that is charades.

  Pops, “Wyatt, can you hear?”

  Wyatt shakes his head.

  “Wade, Gavin, stay with Spartan. Watch their backs. Trey, we’re going to get Ninja.”

  Trey, “Roger, Pops, let’s get to it.”

  In the turmoil with the ravager in the bed of Cane’s truck, Rapp had begun to honk his horn continuously to try to gain the ravager’s attention. It worked long enough that the ravager spun to face the other truck, and when Cane hit the brakes it flew backwards over the roof. Unfortunately, Ninja had also gained the attention of quite a few more steves.

  Pops, “Go loud, but watch for Ninja.”

  Trey, “Got it, let’s move.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Fred, “Alright everyone, one last touch courtesy of the chief. We’re going to be taking lessons from the Two-Six” He produces ten cans of spray paint and four stencils with a standard block letter “R.” “Since there are a variety of vehicles, this is how we’ll ID each other. Every vehicle on both the passenger and driver side doors, and the rears will get a black square back drop and an orange ‘R’. They don’t have to be perfect but those with black vehicles get started on the stencils. Everyone else start making the black squares to offset the orange. After this we go home for the day.” Recovery gets to work quickly with the promise of an early clock out.

  Halfway through the paint jobs, Chief comes running out from the building, “Fred, I need you.”

  Fred, “What’s up?”

  Chief takes a deep breath, “Two-Six is bogged down. We haven’t gotten any further yet. Basher and Legacy stumbled across a small herd, last report was twenty or so lurkers, a dozen hunters, and at least two ravagers. Fred, no wait, you can’t go, Ninja and Spartan are almost there and more units are on the way. They’ll handle this. We need to get this done and quickly. I need you to go in the morning, we’re going to start the burn out today with the places we know are abandoned. The appearance of more ravagers is a bad sign. Fred, listen, get this task force underway. The sooner we get it done, the better off we’ll be.”

  Fred pauses and then clicks his radio on and tunes to channel five.

  Fitz over the radio, “Spartan, ravager on your six, looks like it’s chasing the truck.”

  Fred, “Chief give me three people and let me
go. My brothers need me.”

  Chief, “Figured you’d say that. Take the detectives’ charger, here are the keys. Pick your men.”

  “You! you! and you! come with me. You’re going to get your first taste of hell.” Fred and his three man team hop in the Dodge Charger and speed away from the department.

  “The rest of you continue painting, tomorrow you’re leaving at the crack of dawn.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Marie is in tears as the silence continues on the radio.

  Mallory is speechless.

  Scarlett is staring intently at the radio, willing Task Force Two-Six to speak with good news.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Trey, “Pops, Fitz and Rapp are in the bed of the truck. You go left, I got right.”

  Pops, “Do it.”

  Trey and Pops take steady but quick steps forward and begin pumping round after round into any steve unlucky enough to enter their sights. More steves seem to be pouring in from the east. Two by two like lining up for the Ark they flood streets from every open yard and alleyway. Bumbling abominations awaiting their final destruction, and the members of Task Force Two-Six are happy to oblige their true death wish.

  A ravager comes into view at the same time the first normal patrol units arrive on scene. The unit doesn’t even need to be told to use the vehicle as a weapon. The officer in the driver seat wails her sirens as she comes sliding in and slams into the ravager pinning it under the rear tire. The officer jumps from her unit and fires two rounds into the ravager’s skull.

  Seconds later Fred arrives with his three man team. He speeds down the street and flings his door open at a nearby steve sending it flying to the black top. He slides into a stop and they bail from the vehicle. Fred runs to the downed steve and stomps its face, crushing it, and begins to search for his next target.

  Fred on channel five, “Ninja three, headquarters, on scene!”

  Task Force Two-Six and the new arrivals continue fighting for minutes. Cane, Wyatt, Wade, and Gavin are stuck in the background as the bulk of the fighting is done by the vehicles.

  Cane grabs his oldest brother’s arm, “Gavin, we need to get in there.”