by David Spell
“I’m Jack Foster.” He made no offer to open the gate or to reach through and shake hands.
“I’m Chuck McCain. That’s Elizabeth in the driver’s seat. She and Karen work together. The other girl is Diya. We rescued her yesterday. We weren’t in time to save her family, but were able to help her.” McCain lowered his voice. “She’s still in a bit of shock. Her entire family got infected. When we found her she was dehydrated and hadn’t eaten in over a week.”
The older man nodded, taking it all in. “You said you had a letter from my daughter. Is she alright?”
Chuck nodded. “She’s doing fine, still at the technical college. We just left there on Monday. They’ve got a big group of survivors looking out for each other and I think they’re going to weather this thing just fine. Elizabeth has the letter and she can give you the full update. Can we come in? Karen asked us to stop by and we came out of our way to deliver it. She told us that maybe we could get a home-cooked meal?”
The dark clouds finally gave way and a cold rain started to fall. Something clicked inside of Foster. He slung his rifle and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a key chain.
“I’m sorry for my lack of hospitality. It’s been a long time since we’ve had any guests.”
After opening the gate, he shook hands with Chuck and Beth and nodded at Diya. “I’ll ride with you up to the house. The missus is waiting for me to come back and if you pull up without me, she’ll probably start shooting.”
The older man waved the Tundra through where Elizabeth stopped and waited.
“We wouldn’t want that, Mr. Foster,” McCain said, as Jack climbed into the backseat of the truck with him after resecuring the gate.
“How’d you know we were here?” Chuck asked. “Karen gave us your address and a Google map so I knew we were at the right place, but we weren’t sure how to get your attention. That’s why I was about to climb the gate.”
“It’s one of the great things about this spot,” Jack nodded. “You can’t see the house from the road, but from our sunroom up there,” he motioned up the hill, “we have a pretty good view of everything down below us when the leaves are off the trees. Kim and I were sitting out there drinking a cup of coffee and I saw you folks pull up. We haven’t had any problems to speak of but I have run off a few carloads of people who did the same thing you just tried. They’d pull up to the gate and start trying to climb it. Up to now, I’ve been able to persuade them to get back into their vehicles and leave.
“When y’all stopped, I grabbed my rifle and eased down towards the entrance. Then, when you came back, I thought I was going to have problems, especially when you got out dressed like you were ready to go to war.”
Chuck smiled, removing his helmet and laying it in the seat. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair and said, “I can appreciate that. We’ve had a few run-ins with some rough characters, ourselves.”
Jack picked up two pieces of empty 5.56mm brass from next to him on the car’s seat. He held them up, a questioning look on his face.
“Like I said, we’ve had an interesting trip.” McCain nodded at the brass Foster was holding. “We had an SUV with armed men try to run us off the road this morning.”
The older man’s eyes widened. “I guess we’ve been kind of sheltered out here. It makes sense, though. When law and order start breaking down, the criminals can prey on the weak and helpless. I guess the fellas who tried to mess with you learned the error of their ways?”
Chuck just shrugged and gave a slight nod. He was always hesitant to talk about his kills with people he didn’t know. Elizabeth followed the winding gravel driveway which led to a single-story, sand-colored brick home. Jack was out before Beth had brought the Tundra to a complete stop. A small woman with long gray hair, pulled back in a ponytail, stood in the doorway pointing a Ruger Mini-14 rifle at the strange pickup.
“It’s OK,” Jack alerted her. “These are friends of Karen’s.”
Kim Foster lowered the rifle, her eyes widening at the news. She took a step outside, staying under the awning that covered the entranceway. A smiling young woman climbed out of the driver’s seat and a big man wearing black got out of the rear compartment. A young Indian girl slowly pulled herself out of the front passenger seat, holding onto the door for support.
“Mrs. Foster? My name’s Elizabeth,” Beth said, approaching her friend’s mother. “Karen and I work together; she’s my best friend.”
A sudden thought came to the older woman. “Oh, my God! Is Karen alright?”
“She’s doing great, ma’am. I just saw her on Monday, but she asked us to stop by and let you know that she’s fine and that she really misses you guys. She wrote you a letter. It’s in my backpack.”
The tears started flowing and Kim held her arms out, Beth letting her best friend’s mom cry on her shoulder. Jack saw that Diya was walking very slowly and he gently offered her his arm, helping her inside. After Mrs. Foster regained her composure, Chuck approached. The rain was coming down harder now, mixed with ice.
“This is my husband, Chuck,” Beth said.
“It’s really nice to meet you, ma’am,” McCain said, shaking Mrs. Foster’s hand. “Karen is a very special lady. We’ll tell you the whole story later, but I’m a police officer and your daughter took care of me recently after I got shot. She oversees all the medical care at the college and is doing an amazing job.”
The woman’s eyes glowed with pride. “It’s nice to meet you, Chuck. Please come in. We haven’t had any visitors in a long time.”
McCain was surprised at how warm it was inside the Foster’s home. The welcome heat was emanating from a large wood-burning stove, but Chuck had not noticed the telltale sign of smoke. He instinctively stepped over to it, warming his hands. This was the perfect set-up, Chuck realized. The stove had ample room on top for cooking, and a stainless steel coffee pot hissed slightly on the hot metal, letting him know that the morning was going to continue getting better.
Once everyone was inside, Mrs. Foster became the model southern hostess offering everyone coffee and making sure they were comfortable. Jack pointed to a recessed area in the wall near the entrance where Chuck and Elizabeth could put their equipment. The couple made sure that their rifles were set on ‘Safe,’ stood them against the wall, stripped off their web gear and body armor, and laid them on the floor. They both kept their sidearms on and seated themselves next to Diya on a comfortable leather couch near the hot stove.
“How long has it been since we’ve been this warm?” Chuck asked, looking at Beth.
“Too long. This feels so good. Thank you for letting us in,” she said, smiling at the Fosters. Elizabeth had withdrawn Karen’s letter from her pack and handed the sealed envelope to Mrs. Foster.
McCain turned to the older man. “Mr. Foster, I’m really curious. I didn’t see any smoke pouring into the sky when we pulled up. We’ve been very hesitant about starting fires as we’ve traveled. Zombies have a powerful sense of smell but there are also a lot of criminals roaming around and smoke from a chimney is an easy way to let them know that there are potential victims nearby.”
“Please, call me, ‘Jack.’ I upgraded our wood stove a few years ago and installed a smokeless chimney. I don’t claim to understand the technology but it does a great job of dissipating the smoke. I’ve been concerned about zombies, too, but we haven’t seen any out here. Maybe we’re far enough off the beaten path that we’ll be OK.”
Kim finished reading the letter from her daughter and handed it to her husband, wiping her eyes. “Here, you’ll want to read this.”
After a lunch of venison chili and homemade biscuits, Chuck and Jack sat in the Foster’s sunroom sipping tumblers of Macallan twelve-year single malt scotch. The two men got to know each other as they sat drinking and watching the freezing rain fall outside. According to the Foster’s thermometer, the temperature was twenty-nine degrees.
Laughter overflowed from the living room where Elizabeth caught Kim up o
n her daughter’s life. Diya had enjoyed some of Mrs. Foster’s homemade chicken and vegetable soup, the older woman thinking the recently starved girl would be better able to handle that than the chili. Meena had devoured a bowl of the delicious soup and a biscuit. Now, she was napping in a guest bedroom.
“So, what’s your plan, Chuck?” Jack wondered. “I wouldn’t recommend traveling any more today. Not with this weather. The temperatures are dropping and if something happened to your truck and y’all got stranded…”
Foster let the statement hang in the air. McCain took a drink of his scotch and nodded. He had been thinking the same thing.
“Would you mind if we spent the night?” Chuck asked. “I hate to be a burden. I’d planned on stopping by, delivering that letter, maybe having a bite to eat, and then heading out.”
Jack waved his hand dismissively. “Y’all are no burden at all. We’re set for food for at least another six months, plus we’ll have our garden when it warms up. It’s nice to have you guys and as you can hear,” he nodded towards the living room, “Kim is enjoying having some company. My poor wife has just had me to talk to since this mess started and, well, as you can tell, I’m no conversationalist.”
McCain chuckled. “Thanks, Jack. We’ll see what the weather looks like tomorrow. This is killing me. My daughter is only about an hour away and now we’re having another winter storm.”
“Yeah, Kim and I were pretty sure that Karen was OK. She’s smart and resourceful, like her mother, but the not knowing just gnawed at us.”
“That’s right,” Chuck agreed. “We don’t realize how much we take modern communications for granted until they’re gone.”
“What about Diya? Are y’all taking her with you? She seems so weak.”
“She needs to be in a hospital,” McCain said. He paused and took a deep breath. “I was going to ask if we could leave her with you guys? No pressure. If that’s not a good idea, no problem, we’ll take her with us.”
Jack looked out the window, sipping his whiskey. He was silent for several minutes. The older man finally turned back towards his new friend.
“Let me talk to Kim. I think we can do that. In fact, I’d like to have her stay.” Foster lowered his voice. “This isolation has been getting to my wife. Me, I love it. I’m happy being out here by myself. But Kim, she needs people. Before the zombies, she would drive to town once a day or go see one of the neighbors. Now, we’re cut off from everyone and everything. I think having someone to nurse and to take care of would really help her.”
McCain breathed a sigh of relief. “That would be great. Diya seems like a sweet girl and she’s been through a lot. Now she needs some good people to look after her.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The Prodigal Returns
Centers for Disease Control Compound, East of Atlanta, Thursday, 1400 hours
Eddie Marshall, Andy Fleming, and Alejandro “Hollywood” Estrada strolled towards the front entrance of the rural compound to give their civilian security counterparts a break. The federal agents had just walked the perimeter of their hundred acre compound making sure that the fence was secure and checking for potential threats. The three CDC officers and just two of the civilian security team had chosen to stay and guard the scientists who were working around the clock, trying to find a breakthrough in developing a vaccine or a cure for the zombie virus.
“I hope Jimmy’s OK,” Hollywood commented, referring to his best friend in the unit.
Eddie grunted and Andy nodded. “If anybody can make it into Athens, find the girl, and get back out, it’s Jimmy,” Fleming commented, but not sure he believed it himself.
“I’m worried about all of them,” Marshall admitted with a sigh. “Jimmy, Chuck, Scotty, Chris, Terrence. They’re all badasses, but we know that it’s a different world out there now.”
Eddie and Andy had both been team leaders at the Atlanta office of the CDC Enforcement Unit, choosing to move their families into the safety of the rural complex in exchange for providing security. Originally, Eddie and Chuck McCain were the team leads, but after their officer-in-charge, Rebecca Johnson, had been killed in a shootout with one of the Iranian terrorists responsible for deploying the zombie virus, McCain had been promoted to head the Atlanta operation. Fleming had served as McCain’s assistant team leader and had been quickly promoted to fill the team leader role on Chuck’s former squad.
Before the CDC had called, Andy had been a Marine Staff Sergeant assigned to the United States Marine Corps Forces Special Operations Command (MARSOC). These highly trained special operators were the Corps’ answer to the Army’s Special Forces. After leaving the Marines because of a family crisis, Fleming had spent a year working in the private sector before being recruited for the new CDC Enforcement Unit.
Hollywood Estrada was a member of Eddie’s team. He had joined the Army right out of high school, serving as an MP, military police officer. After five years, Estrada took an honorable discharge to pursue his lifelong dream of becoming a civilian police officer. He hoped to work for a federal agency but without a college degree he knew that his only chance was gaining some experience first with a large local department. He was hired by the Los Angeles Police Department and worked there for seven years before starting the application process to become an agent with the Drug Enforcement Administration. That was when Hollywood had been approached by Rebecca Johnson and offered a job with a new federal law enforcement agency.
Jimmy Jones was Marshall’s assistant team leader and had originally joined his three teammates at the remote CDC location. Jones had attained the rank of captain in the Marine Corps, completing two combat tours in Iraq. When his mother was diagnosed with a terminal illness, however, he had resigned his commission to care for her before she passed away.
Jimmy had then become an Alabama State Trooper where he served for five years before also applying to the DEA. That was when he, too, had crossed Rebecca Johnson’s radar and been offered a job with the new CDC Enforcement Unit. Jones was a natural leader, on track to have a team of his own until terror attacks had crippled the government.
During the horrific attack on the University of Georgia campus in which Rebecca Johnson had been killed, the CDC officers were deployed to rescue as many civilians as they could. It took over two hours before the federal agents could get onscene. By then, over a thousand people had been killed with several thousand more infected with the zombie virus.
Two terrorists had deployed the bio-terror weapon at the home opener football game. Over the next few hours, most of the UGA campus police department was wiped out, along with about half of the Athens-Clarke County police agency. One of the few surviving campus police officers was a beautiful young black woman named Grace Cunningham.
Cunningham had been stationed inside the stadium when the virus was first released at the Tate Student Center just across the street. The police officer had rushed towards the packed student center to see if she could help. Zombies quickly chased her back inside Sanford Stadium where the campus police officer shot and killed a number of the infected attackers. Grace was able to herd a group of twenty-seven survivors into a restroom where they remained safe for several hours. Cunningham was eventually able to make contact with her dispatcher and learned that CDC officers had arrived on the campus.
Grace, along with the help of National Guard Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Clark, led the group out of the stadium and connected with the federal agents. Chuck McCain and his men escorted the survivors across the zombie-infested campus to an extraction point. It took three trips to get them all away by helicopter, but Officer Cunningham had gone above and beyond, fulfilling her duty of protecting and serving that day.
The campus police officer had also caught the attention of Jimmy Jones. They had not seen each other since that fateful day, but had spoken on the phone regularly until the communications grid collapsed. Jimmy had fallen in love with the young woman, but found himself torn by the conflicting emotions of love and duty.
A month and a half later, however, Jimmy’s teammates understood that he probably wasn’t coming back. The National Guard and neighboring police departments had attempted to clear the infected from Athens to no avail. They had killed almost two thousand zombies but had lost over a hundred soldiers and police officers, most of whom, ironically, were now infected and continuing to spread the virus. While Fleming spoke with confidence of Jones’ ability, each of the three men knew that all of their missing teammates were very likely dead by now, or worse, walking around as zombies.
Of the original two four-man teams working out of the Atlanta office, both Eddie and Chuck had lost agents killed in action. Marco Connelly had been overpowered by a pack of zombies right after the virus had first been deployed. The saddest part of that incident was when the bio-terror virus had reanimated the officer, Rebecca Johnson had been the one to put a bullet into zombie Marco’s head, putting him down for good.
Luis García had died from gunshot wounds sustained as the CDC agents, Atlanta police officers, and a few FBI agents attempted to stop a pack of several thousand zombies surging up Interstate 75 near the Atlanta Braves baseball stadium. Three Iranian terrorists, two wearing suicide vests, the third armed with an AK-47, had attacked the officers from behind as they were battling zombies in front of them. García’s body armor had not been able to save him as one AK round struck him in the leg, with a second bullet penetrating his unprotected left shoulder, and digging into his chest.