by C M Hoffmann
♦ ♦ ♦
Fred, “Task Force Recovery, FORM UP! Unfortunately, there will be no rest of the day off, we need to be on our way today. Go home, gear up, and meet back here. You have sixty minutes, I suggest you get started.”
The members of Task Force Recovery begin to leave as the Chief approaches Fred. “Fred, I hate to send y’all out like this, I know it’s been a shit day.”
Fred, “Never a dull moment. ‘Another day in paradise’ as Cane would say. We’ll get it done.”
“I have faith in you, but I cannot stress how important it is to find vehicles there. And don’t forget your side objective.”
“Find any information regarding the outbreak, bring it home. Simple enough.”
“You’ll be on your own out there. I can’t pull any manpower to assist if you get stuck. So don’t get stuck. If it looks too bad, turn around and come back.”
“Will do, if there’s nothing else, I better get home to say my goodbyes.”
“Stay safe.”
When Fred returns home he is greeted with a warm welcome from his wife and the troops. He gathers them in the kitchen over a quick snack. “Everyone take a seat I’ve got some news for you. You guys know I need to go to Laplace to hopefully locate some big vehicles for the wall. Well, the time frame got pushed up because of some prison escapees who want to take what’s ours. Troops, I want a constant watch around the clock. Since Two-Six and the rest of the officers thinned out most of the steves in the city it shouldn’t be too difficult. I’ll be leaving within the hour out of city for the first time since the outbreak. I don’t know what’s out there or if I’ll make it back. Until I come back you take care of each other and your mother. Whatever she says goes. Understood? Good. Now give your old man a hug.” As the family shares a long tight hug, Fred wipes a tear from his eye, “Alright, help me load up the truck and I gotta get going.”
When Fred returns to the department, the last few members of Task Force Recovery pull in behind him. The rest of the team members and all of the vehicles are lined up and running. The final supply bags are being placed and they gather around their respective vehicles.
Member 1, “We’re all set, Fred, just say the word.”
Fred, “‘Word.’ MOVE OUT! I’m in the lead, avoid running over steve unless necessary. It’s getting late in the afternoon and I don’t want to be stuck on the side of the interstate with no cover because someone got a steve femur in their axle.”
And with forty five members and eleven vehicles, Task Force Recovery is underway. Chief says a silent prayer as the last of the vehicles hits the blacktop, turns, and disappears from view.
Interstate 10 is mostly empty running contraflow. Task Force Recovery reaches the Bonnet Carre Spillway, a large empty expanse with no turn arounds for miles, and they can very easily make out the location of the roadway collapse in the westbound lanes.
Member 1, “Damn look at it, the cars were so packed together they’re poking up through the surface of the water.”
Fred, “Yea, poor bastards didn’t even have a chance. Weird how after all these years it just gave out.”
Member 2, “Yea, no burned residue or concrete chunks on the eastbound side. At least we know it didn’t get blown to shit like Causeway. Just decided to crap out on the worst of days.”
“When it rains, it pours.”
Member 1, “Amen to that.”
As the convoy traverses the interstate roadway, the ride takes on a somber tone. Everyone’s thoughts are scattered with the fear of leaving home, leaving their loved ones, and what untold horrors await in the next city over. They dodge abandoned vehicles and debris carefully. Wandering steves are left to chase the shrinking tail lights as per their orders.
Fred, “Take this exit, then it’s about fifteen miles of open land until you hit the high school. After that it’s about another twenty minutes to the base.”
Member 1, “Roger that.”
With nothing but open land, the steve problem is nearly nonexistent as there is no source to infect or feed upon. As the convoy draws closer to the high school, more and more random pockets of lurkers begin to appear. When the high school appears in the distance, the whole convoy automatically comes to a halt in the middle of the road.
Fred, “Well there’s something you don’t see every day.”
Member 1, “Dude, that’s a shit ton of steves. Think somebody’s hold up in the school.”
“Yea I’d say so, unfortunately they’re probably damn near dead by now. How long’s it been since the Turn?”
Member 2, “Fuck a couple months? It feels like a decade. I don’t even remember anymore.”
“Me neither, come on we got work to do. Let’s get this show on the road.”
♦ ♦ ♦
As the convoy rolls forward, no one looks back. The lone teenager on the roof of the cafeteria screams as loud as he can for help, to no avail. As he watches the vehicles ride off into the distance a tear rolls down his face and he slides back through the ventilation shaft to deliver the bad news.
Coach, “Tommy! Thank God, I knew that was a bad plan! What did you see?
Tommy, “A whole line of vehicles on the roadway, Mr. Longmyre.”
Longmyre, “Well? Are they coming?”
“No, I don’t think they heard or saw me. They were leaving by the time I got up to the roof.”
“Dammit! What are we going to do? The food is only going to last so long. Honestly, I’m surprised the doors have held like this.”
“We’ll figure it out, Coach, I’ll just go back up through the vents that way they’ll see me when they get here and I won’t be playing catch up.”
“Hell of an idea, Tommy. Maybe one of the other guys can go up with you.”
“Only Nate is small enough to fit up there with me and he’s claustrophobic.”
Nate, “Screw you, Tommy, I’m in. I want out of this place more than I don’t want to be closed in. I knew high school was a death trap but this is getting ridiculous.”
Longmyre laughs, “Alright grab what you two need and get up there. And try not to fall off the roof.”
Tommy, “You got it, Coach.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Fred, “Alright base is up on the right. Stop on the main road and we’ll go up on foot.”
Member 1, “That’s like three hundred yards, why not drive up?”
“One, because the road isn’t big enough to turn around and we have eleven vehicles we’d have to turn around all at once. Two, because you’ve got perfectly good ‘Leather Personnel Carriers’ on. Might as well put ‘em to use.”
Member 1, “What the hell are Leather Personnel... Ha, boots got it!”
Member 2, “Fucking rookies...”
Fred exits the truck, “Recovery, on me! You, you, you , aaanndd you, you’re on guard duty. Watch the trucks, there are only so many spare radios we could muster so we’ll break into teams. I need three volunteers with me, the rest of you break into four more groups.” Fred passes out a few sheets of paper, “This is a quick map guide from what I could remember, and on the backs are your objectives. Get it done. We have two hours ‘til dark. Any questions?”
Member 3, “When’s dinner?”
“When we get home. So the sooner we get what we need the sooner we get back. Move.”
Recovery slowly approaches the gates of the base. Though there doesn’t appear to be a steve in sight, the gates of the base are wide open.
Fred gathers his group into a circle, “Alright, guys, we’re going for the offices. We’re looking for information regarding the outbreak. If you see anything suspicious bring it to me. This is our objective. That building off to the left should contain all the offices. We’ll break into singles as we clear the rooms. Let’s keep it quiet.” All the members nod and Fred leads the way to the offices.
Member 1, “Fred, this place looks deserted. Are you sure there were people stationed here?”
“Absolutely, let’s just hope they left some
good stuff behind.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Cane and Wyatt return home to replenish their supplies and they are met by a strange sight. Beau and Justin are posted on folding chairs on some sort of plywood and two-by-four platform jutting out from just below the front peak of the roof.
Justin, “HEY MR. CANE!”
Cane, “Hey, Justin. What are you doing up there? And what in the world have you done to my roof?”
Beau, “Made it a little cozier and more stable. I think we did a fine job myself.”
Wyatt, “Guess all that engineer schooling came in handy, huh?”
“Yea you could say that. Fuck happened to your faces though?”
Cane, “Long story, Bigger, fill you in later. For now, there’s a lady waiting for me inside.”
Scarlett emerges from the front door, “I knew I heard you.. YOUR FACE!” She runs to her husband.
Cane, “Easy, easy, I’m ok just got to restock for the rest of the day. Had a nice little firefight out there.”
“Yea we heard. Now come inside and get cleaned up, you can restock after you eat and I clean your face.”
“Anything you say, dearest.”
After some heartfelt reunions and a few tears, Cane and Wyatt eat and receive fresh bandages. While refilling magazines and grabbing extra boxes, more bad news strikes.
Mallory, “Scarlett! I need you in here!”
Scarlett rushes to the dining room, “What’s the problem.”
Mallory hands Scarlett the channel one radio as a transmission with gunfire in the background, “Help! 10-55! Shots fired! Shots fired! We got men down, we need help! Williams and Vets! Coming from...”
Wyatt chambers a fresh round into his AR-15, “Time to go to work?”
Cane sighs and rubs the uninjured part of his face, “Yea I guess so. Scarlett round up Two-Six and tell them we got problems at the intersection again.”
Scarlett stands up and kisses Cane, “Be careful.”
“It’s just another day in paradise, Dearest. Wyatt, let’s roll.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Member 1, “Fred, I got point through the entrance.”
Fred, “Do it.”
Member 1 tries the door handle to find it unlocked and he slowly pushes the door in with his rifle up. “Hallway clear,” he whispers.
“Move up.”
One by one they clear the offices in low whispers. Blood and dismembered extremities are scattered around most of the building. The door at the end of the hall reads ‘Director, CIO.’
Member 2, “Fred, what’s ‘CIO’?”
Fred, “Chief Intelligence Officer. Let’s have a look.”
When the door opens, Fred’s group takes in the sight of a lone man sitting behind the sole desk, slouched at an awkward angle. Gore covers the filing cabinets off to the man’s left.
Fred, “Poor bastard, couldn’t take the pressure.” He picks up a single sheet of paper with a handwritten note off the desk and skims it. “Well, shit.”
Member 1, “What’s it say?”
Fred reads off the note, “‘I can’t do this anymore. What they have created is beyond a moral atrocity. For any who read this, I apologize for the part I took in their ‘experiment’ and I pray I find forgiveness in the afterlife. I can no longer follow these people blindly. They created their own personal holocaust and yet not a drop of blood will touch their hands. I have disobeyed direct orders to destroy any information regarding ‘Project: Darwin,’ and abandon this base. Survival of the fittest my ass. Before ending my time in this world I have hidden the physical documents in this office in hopes someone will find them and expose these people for what they truly are. There is a formula for a cure. I don’t understand chemistry but I know they have a contingency plan. Good luck.
Director/CIO
Paul M. Piquiri’.”
Member 1, “First zombies, now a damn scavenger hunt?”
Fred, “Lock that shit up. Get started. Search every office. Any documents you find bring them to the front door for transport. If you can’t figure out what’s important and what’s not bring everything that’s left. Do not leave a single scrap of paper unidentified.”
Member 2, “Roger that.” With that a scramble for any and all documents begins as the sound of heavy vehicles cranking up reverberates from outside.
After an hour of searching Fred is finally interrupted by someone at the door, “Fred, we got every vehicle we could find. Twenty two total. All running and ready to hit the road.”
Fred, “Good. You saw all the paperwork in the hall? Get some people and get it loaded in a closed truck. Did you find any weapons?”
Member 4, “Hell yea we did. Looked like someone was stocking up for a while. We had to pry open one of the shacks. Had about three hundred cases of MRE’s too.”
Member 1, “Hmph, MRE’s. Three lies for the price of one.”
Fred, “You’ll learn to like it. Everyone get finished, we got less than an hour of daylight. I want to hit the interstate by nightfall.”
Member 4, “All our shit’s loaded, just need your love letters here.”
“Then get to it.”
Soon a line of men passing pounds of paperwork to each other is formed and the trucks are fully loaded in fifteen minutes.
Fred, “If that’s everything move out! Lead vehicle slow down by the high school, I can’t shake the feeling steve is there for a reason.”
Member 5, “Will do. You guys find anything?”
“More than we can ever explain.”
The now thirty three vehicles head out down the road and begin to slow as they approach the school. The lead vehicle comes to a stop.
Driver, “Fred, looks like someone’s up there!”
Fred, “Hand me the binos.” Fred looks through the binoculars to see two teens waving their arms frantically and jumping up and down. “Recovery, on me!” Task Force Recovery gathers around Fred, careful not to put their backs to the ocean of steves hovering around the school. “Looks like there are two teenagers on top of the school. Decision time people. Do we risk a rescue op? Or, do we turn our backs? It’s a fair question but a difficult one. If we vote for a rescue we need to come up with a plan and quick, sun’s getting lower as we speak. You’ve got thirty seconds to decide.” After thirty seconds, Fred asks the question that dwells on their minds, “Who’s up for a rescue?” Every hand goes up.
Member 1, “Suggestion time lady and gents.”
Member 2, “Cause a ruckus, draw them out, bust down the doors, and get all the people out. We can’t leave ‘em.”
“And what if the building is filled with steve?”
“Just a few speed bumps for these big wheels.”
Fred, “Times tickin’. That’s as good as plan as any. Any others?”
Member 3, “Let’s torch one of the other buildings. Fire, lights... explosions... still a ruckus.”
“Sounds good, did we get any ‘H.E.’ fun back at the base?”
Member 2, “Lots of high explosives. You want rockets or something more personal?”
“Personal, I need three runners. Two for delivery, one for cover.” Three members Fred recognizes instantly come to the front. “Shea, Graff, and Monty. Not a bad trio. Monty and Graff, you’re on package duty; Shea, you got cover.”
Shea, “We’ll see how they like a little Money in their lives.”
Member 2, “Money? We’re trying to kill them, not give ‘em a paycheck.”
Graff, “No. Shea IS Money. That’s what they call him out in the streets.”
Fred, “Time to shine boys, get to it.”
“Race ya there, Monty. Bet we can at least outrun Shea.”
Shea, “Better hope you don’t catch a round in your cheek while you’re running.”
Fred, “Banter later, get moving.”
“You got it.” The three take off at a sprint toward a far building. A few minutes later they return barely short of breath grinning from ear to ear.
Fred, “Why do
I have a feeling y’all did more than expected?”
Shea, “Because Money don’t play no games.”
Member 1, “Did you just refer to yourself in third person again? Never mind. Who won?”
Graff, “I did.”
Shea, “Look it here, you lost deal with it.”
Fred, “ANYWAY, how much time before we go in? Sun’s just about down.”
Monty looks at his watch, “I’d say... NOW.”
A flash of light blinds the group, followed by a thunderous boom, and a concussion wave strong enough to stumble every member of Task Force Recovery. A thick cloud of smoke quickly races to the sky.
Fred, “Well damn.”
Graff, “You wanted a distraction, there you go.”
Monty, “You are a distraction, Graff.”
“Because I’m devilishly handsome.”
Member 1, “Steve’s moving towards the fire. Move in?”
Fred, “You got it. Task Force Recovery move to the building. Make sure the vehicles are pointing back towards the roads, I don’t want to turn around in steve’s ocean.” The task force returns to their vehicles and pound the dirt heading for the school’s cafeteria. When they reach the double doors, they fly open with a mix of teenagers and adults.
Longmyre, “Thank God you’re here. We’ve been stuck in that hellhole since the beginning.”
Fred, “That’s all well and good but you have a choice, return with us or go home but it’s time to choose.”
“How bad is it?”
“Bad, not many people left. We’ve got a place but you need to decide, looks like steve heard the vehicles.”
Shea, “INCOMING!”
“CHOOSE!”
Longmyre, “You, we’re coming with you.”
“Load up then. Recovery, time to go!” The sounds of gunfire fill the air as steve catches sight of the congregation of people and vehicles. Within seconds the first steves near the closest truck. “MOVE!” The trucks’ engines flare to life with a loud synchronous roar.
Member 1, “Fred, truck down!”
Fred, “Fuck. What can we see?”
“They’re done for. They’re already out of the truck. Yep, they’re down. Should we go back for the truck?”
“What’s in it?”