Logistics
Justin set up a laptop and printer on a folding table, and plugged them into a gasoline-powered generator. He scanned Gabriel’s manual and printed ten copies, then placed each copy in a separate binder. Meanwhile, Bill sent Ethan around to let everyone know that he was calling a meeting. Work continued as word spread, but I could hear people talking to each other, speculating as to what the meeting was about. I caught quite a few people giving me curious stares and whispering to one another. I helped Stacy clear some space in the middle of the common area and arrange enough lawn chairs so that everyone would have a place to sit. We placed five chairs in front for Bill and the other compound leaders. When we finished, Bill came over to me and motioned for me to lean down so that he could whisper something.
“Sit up front when the meeting starts, I want you to be able to answer questions after I call the meeting to order,” he said in a low voice.
I nodded and clapped him on the shoulder to let him know I understood. I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction to expect, being that I had arrived there less than twenty four hours ago, and had already caused quite a stir. I had some serious reservations about whether my fellow survivors would believe me when I told them what I knew about the Phage.
Work around the compound slowly ground to a halt as people wandered over in two’s and three’s to the assembled chairs and took their seats. Andrea woke up at some point and pulled herself together enough to attend the meeting with little Aiden dozing against her shoulder. She sat next to Emily and Stacy, and the two women filled her in on everything that happened while she was asleep. After everyone had taken a seat, Ethan, Earl and Justin sat down in the row of chairs facing the crowd. I took a seat next to Earl, and he gave me a little wink as I sat down.
“You just all kinds of trouble, ain’t you?” he said, smirking.
I shrugged, and gave him a rueful smile. “Trouble seems to be finding me more and more often here lately.”
Bill stepped in front of the crowd with me and his deputies seated behind him.
“Alright, everyone, if it’s alright with you all, I’d like to get the meeting started.”
Bill waited for the small side conversations to subside. He had a small smile on his face, and looked every bit the grandfatherly patron.
“As you’re all aware, we have a visitor that’s been with us since yesterday. Quite a few of you have already had the chance to meet him. For those of you who haven’t, this gentleman,” he stepped aside and motioned toward me, “is Eric Riordan. He found our good friend Ethan in a spot of trouble down in Alexis yesterday, and was kind enough to stop and help him out.”
As he spoke, most of the audience switched their attention from Bill and stared at me. I started to sweat a little under the scrutiny. I’ve never been much of a public speaker, and I hate being in front of crowds. The situation reminded me of every bad dream I had as a kid about standing in front of a classroom wearing nothing but my underwear.
“Mr. Riordan has some information that he would like to share with all of us,” he continued, “and I believe we finally have a workable plan to retrieve some very badly needed supplies from Alexis.”
Bill turned around and motioned for me to approach. I almost froze up for a second, but managed to get my feet underneath me and walk a few shaky steps to stand next to the old surgeon.
“Mr. Riordan, would you be so kind as to relate to these folks what you told me earlier today? Folks, please, if you have any questions, hold them until Mr. Riordan opens the floor.” Bill gestured toward the people seated in front of me, and then sat down in the chair I vacated.
I hadn’t been expecting to give a speech, but there was nothing for it at that point, so I launched into it. It took me about half an hour to give an abbreviated version of how I came to meet Gabriel, and how I learned about the Reanimation Phage. When I concluded the story, I was facing thirty-two stunned, disbelieving faces. The silence lasted almost long enough to be awkward, but thankfully, Bill got up and stood beside me, giving me a little pat on the shoulder.
“I’d like to go ahead and open up the floor to questions. Please raise your hand and wait to be recognized,” he said.
The man I had seen earlier in the day carrying the M1A rifle was the first to raise his hand. I pointed to him, and he stood up.
“At the risk of sounding ungrateful,” he said, “do you think you might be able to provide some kind of proof to back up what you’re saying? That’s quite a story you just told.”
Now that I could get a close look at him, I saw that he was about five-foot ten, with longish hair a similar sandy blonde color to my own, and he had a lean frame with sinewy, whipcord muscles. His eyes were a piercing hazel that was almost yellow, and he regarded me with no small amount of suspicion.
“I don’t have any proof other than my word,” I replied. “I gave Bill a copy of a document that my friend Gabriel sent me which details, in depth, how to fight the undead. Gabriel had a lot of experience in that area. His advice is the only reason I’m still alive today.”
“And what exactly do you want in return for all this free information?” the yellow-eyed man asked. “Do you expect us all to believe that you’re just trying to help us out of the kindness of your heart?”
Bill glared, but yellow-eyes ignored him. I bristled somewhat at his tone, but I understood his suspicion.
“Actually I do,” I replied. “And to answer your first question, I’m not asking anyone for anything. I have my own weapons, equipment, and food, and I don’t need to take anything from anyone here. I helped Ethan yesterday because he is a living, breathing human being. Living people are a pretty damned rare commodity these days, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Yellow-eyes glared at me for a moment longer, and then slowly took his seat. He didn’t ask any more questions, but his suspicious gaze never left me for the rest of the meeting. The rest of the questions were less hostile in nature. Everyone wanted to know how the Reanimation Phage works, and I got a lot of frustrated sighs and shaking heads when I told them that I didn’t know. Bill was kind enough to explain in basic terms what a bacteriophage is and how it can spread. Unfortunately, he did not have any more of a clue than I did as to how the infection could bring a dead human back to a life. I was beginning to get the impression that I had created more questions than I could answer, when an attractive young black woman raised her hand and stood up when I recognized her.
“I appreciate you telling us all of this, Mr. Riordan, but what difference does it make at this point? I mean, we’re all still holed up here in an old warehouse, except now we know a little bit more about those things trying to kill us.”
The young woman left her seat and walked to the front of the assembly to stand in front of me. She was almost as tall as me, and moved with the kind of casual grace one sees in dancers and professional athletes. Her body was lean and fit, and she had mocha colored skin pulled tight over strong muscle. Rather than continue talking to me, she turned and addressed the crowd.
“We can spend all day wondering why this has happened, or we can find a way to take advantage of the information this man has brought us. I, for one, am tired of sitting around and being scared. I’m tired of waiting for the axe to drop. I’m tired of wondering what will happen to all of us when we run out of places to scavenge supplies. If this guy knows a way to take the fight to the creeps, then I’m all ears.”
Her last comment was received with a few encouraging comments, and some nodding heads. The woman turned around and gave me a little nod before taking her seat.
“Thank you very much, Jessica,” Bill said. “That brings us to the next part of our meeting, assuming no one has any further questions…?”
Bill paused for a moment, and when no one raised a hand, he continued.
“Alright then. Mr. Riordan here has been working with Ethan to come up with a plan to clear the infected out of Alexis long enough for us to round up some supplies. Ethan, Eric, if you would be so kind as to explain your plan.”
Ethan stood up to join me, and Bill took a seat as we laid out our plan to the compound’s residents. There were a few questions about why the undead behaved the way that they did, but I didn’t have any answers for them.
“Listen,” I said, “you don’t need to understand solid-state electronics to turn on your television. You don’t need an advanced degree in mechanical engineering to drive a car. We might not understand why these walking dead people do what they do, but we know that they are predictable. If you read the manual Bill is going to be passing around later, you’ll see that it describes what all of you have probably seen for yourselves by now. These things are deadly, but they’re also slow and stupid. We, on the other hand, are fast and smart. They outnumber us by an astronomical margin, but if we plan ahead and work together, we can beat them because we know what they are going to do before they do it.”
It took some time, and a lot of repeating the same things over and over again, but eventually we managed to get most everyone on board. A few who were on the fence gave in when Bill stated that he thought our plan was sound, and that he would personally step in to lend a hand. Bill told the assembled residents that he didn’t expect all of them to support the plan. He understood that they were taking a hell of a risk by trusting my information, but he asked that they do what they could to help those who were taking part in the operation.
When it was clear that the plan was popular with enough people to make it practicable, Bill called an end to the meeting and asked those who wished to participate to remain behind so that we could begin working out the details. Surprisingly, yellow-eyes was one of them. His suspicion of me had clearly not waned during the course of the meeting, and he continued to stare me down at every opportunity. I was starting to get a little tired of his nonsense, and found myself glaring back. I’m not normally the belligerent type, but I’m not a coward either. Push me, and I push back.
Bill motioned everyone to gather round.
“Alright, we need to decide who’s doing what. First things first, who wants to drive the diversion vehicles?” he said.
Several people raised their hands, including me. Bill seemed a bit surprised that I volunteered.
“You sure, son? Seems like you should be more on the planning side of things,” he said.
“I have my own truck, and I can handle myself just fine. I’d rather be in charge of the diversion team,” I replied.
“Or maybe you just want to be able to get the hell out of dodge if things go south?” Yellow-eyes said.
I walked over to him and got about an inch away from his face.
“I don’t know what your fucking problem is, asshole, but I’ve had as much of your crap as I’m going to put up with. You got a problem with me? Do something about it.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner his mouth, and his yellow gaze narrowed. He was a couple of inches shorter than me, and I outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. The guy in front of me did not seem worried. Either he had some training of his own, or he thought I was all bluster. I tensed for him to move. As soon as he did, I planned to lunge in for a takedown and follow up with a little ground-and-pound. Nothing will humble a man quite like a few hard elbows across the bridge of his nose. A few tense seconds went by before I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Eric, calm down. Steve, knock it off. This is the last thing we need right now,” Bill said in a firm voice.
Yellow-eyes, or Steve I guess, stayed still for a moment more before he took a step back, still smirking. He took his time about it to make sure I knew he was not intimidated. I didn’t give a flying lump of monkey shit if he was intimidated or not. Even the most confident man in the world can still get his ass kicked.
I relaxed and took a deep breath, never taking my eyes off the creepy bastard in front of me. After taking a step away to show everyone that I was back under control, I turned to Bill and nodded to him by way of apology. Ethan shot Steve a reproachful glare and stepped in front of him.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you Steve, but this man saved my life. If you have a problem with him, you have a problem with me. Got it?” he said.
“I got no quarrel with you Ethan, I know you’re a good man,” Steve said. “I just wonder if it’s smart for us to trust this guy so quickly. We don’t know anything about him.”
“I know he risked his life to help me, and he’s willing to do it again to help a bunch of strangers,” Ethan said, putting his hands on his hips.
Steve turned his head to stare at me again, then looked back to Ethan.
“Alright, man. We do this your way for now, but I suggest we keep a close eye on this guy,” he said.
I held my temper in check and stifled the urge to confront him again, figuring it would do little to help the situation. Ethan glared at Steve, then turned away and dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
“If this is how you’re going to be, Steve, we don’t need you. Take a walk.”
Steve seemed to deflate a bit. He looked around for support, and found only irritated faces. After a moment, he rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in defeat.
“Fine. We trust the new guy. Let me tell you something though,” he pointed a finger at me, “you try to screw us like that last bunch did, and you will regret it.”
“If I wanted to hurt you people,” I replied, “I could have done it a dozen times by now. Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time. I’m trying to help.”
I was careful to keep any hint of anger out of my voice. Steve fixed a glare at me for another moment, and then turned to Bill.
“Alright then, chief. How are we doing this?”
We spent the rest of the afternoon planning the diversion. We decided to use three vehicles to lure the creeps (damn it, they had me saying it) away from the main part of town. Each vehicle would have two people assigned to it with one as a driver, and the other as a gunner. We would approach on Highway 27 and draw the undead south away from town, splitting up when we reached the furthest intersection from the gun shop. Each team chose a route to follow and circle back on once the hordes were a good distance away. Steve insisted that each team also plot out a few alternate routes, just in case anything went wrong. I didn’t like the prick, but I had to admit that he had a good point.
The teams consisted of Ethan and I, Steve and Rick, and Earl agreed to drive the third vehicle with Justin in the back. Cody and Stan had managed to liberate a dozen walkie-talkies, complete with chargers, from an abandoned police station a few weeks earlier. We agreed on channels to maintain communication during the drive, and set the radios to charge using one of the compound’s generators. Once the diversion team had their ducks in a row, Bill and I had a meeting with the people driving the cargo vehicles.
I learned that the compound had two moving trucks, a large church van that could seat fourteen people, and three pickup trucks. Justin and Rick volunteered to head out early in the morning to requisition two more abandoned cars to use for the diversion. Bill agreed to the idea, saying that it would be best if they could use the vehicles they already had to haul supplies. The moving trucks could hold a lot of gear, and the church van could haul workers to load them with supplies.
“You sure you don’t want to go out with Justin and Rick to get another car?” Bill asked me at one point. “We could have somebody drive your truck and get this done a little quicker.”
I shook my head. “No way man, nobody drives my truck but me. Besides, I trust my Tundra. If I am going to be running away from a horde of the infected, I want to know beyond doubt that my wheels aren’t going to break down on me. Dig?”
Bill nodded and held up his hands. “Hey, no harm in asking, right?”
Once we laid out all the plans, everyone went back to work on the compound’s daily duties. There was a new energy and excitement in the air as everyone went about their tasks. Not having anything to contribute for the moment, I went back over to my truck to get something to eat. It was late afternoon by the time I sat down on my little camp stool and opened up an MRE. The military rations weren’t the tastiest thing in the world, but they had plenty of calories and neat little bottles of Tabasco sauce. Pretty much anything tastes better with a little hot sauce on it.
I finished my meal and heated up some water to make a cup of tea. I looked up from my little stove and noticed Steve walking toward me. I made no overtly aggressive movements, but I did gather my feet beneath me and lean my weight just a bit forward in case I had to stand up quickly. I put one hand on the cup and moved it around over the chafing fuel. If it came to it, I could splash the scalding water in his face as a distraction. I regretted not having a weapon within arm’s reach, and I made a mental note not to make that mistake again.
Steve stopped a few feet away from me and sat down cross-legged on the concrete. He regarded me for a few moments without speaking, his expression blank. I glanced at him to let him know I wasn’t impressed, then went back to making my tea.
“Something on your mind?” I asked, not looking up.
“You really would have done it, wouldn’t you?” he said.
“Done what?”
“Fought me.”
I looked up at him for a second or two, then took the tea bag out of my cup and tossed in a bucket. “If you had made a twitch, I would have stomped a mud-hole in your chest.”
“You would have tried,” Steve said.
I looked up at him, and he was smiling. Unlike the infuriating smirk he showed me earlier in the day, this expression seemed be from genuine amusement. I frowned at him.
“You sure do talk a tough game, you scrawny bastard. If you ever decide you’re man enough, you know where to find me. Now, unless you have anything else to waste my time with, I would appreciate it if you could kindly fuck off, and let me finish my tea.”
I sat back on the stool and leaned against the side of my truck, sipping at the hot liquid. Steve’s smile faded. After a moment, he nodded to himself and stood up to walk away. There was definitely something strange about that guy. Not many dudes are willing to brawl outside their weight class unless they are either complete idiots, or highly confident in their abilities. I would have to keep an eye on Steve, and a weapon near at hand, if it came down to it.
After finishing my tea, I felt like some company, and walked over to the common area to look for Stacy. I found her sitting at a picnic table with Bill and a few other people talking over cups of instant coffee. There wasn’t any room to sit at the table, so I kept on walking toward Ethan and Andrea’s shack, making sure to catch her eye and wave as I walked past. Her face brightened when she noticed me, and she favored me with a little wink. So far, my chances looked pretty good.
I knocked on Ethan’s door, taking care not to be too loud just in case the baby was sleeping. Andrea opened the door and welcomed me inside. Ethan was sitting on the couch with one of those U-shaped baby pillows across his lap. Aiden sprawled across it drinking from a bottle, his eyes slowly opening and closing as he drifted closer to sleep. I sat and watched them until the little guy’s hands went limp and he lost his grip on the bottle. Ethan was ready and caught it, holding it for the baby while he continued to drink.
“Does he drink even when he’s asleep?” I whispered.
“Yeah,” Ethan replied, “it’s like a reflex or something.”
Aiden stretched his pudgy arms over his head, and heaved a small, contented sigh. I wondered how much innocence and simple beauty was left in the world. How long would it be before Aiden’s bright little eyes became sunken and haunted, like the eyes of everyone else in the compound? How many parents out there lost their babies to the infection? How many children lost their parents? How many whole families were wiped out? As bad as it sounds, I didn’t envy Ethan his position. I couldn’t imagine the fear and worry that must plague him every day as he struggled to protect his family.
“You can’t let it get to you,” Ethan said.
I was so fixated on the baby that I didn’t notice Ethan looking at me. He wore a ghost of a smile as he looked down and ran a big hand over his son’s soft hair.
“How do you do it?” I asked.
Ethan shrugged. “Easy. I don’t have a choice. I give up, my son dies. My wife dies. I will not let that happen. Come what may, my family will live.”
Andrea stood up from her chair and kissed her husband on the forehead.
“Let me put him to bed, sweetie,” she said, gently.
Ethan sat the bottle down on the coffee table and, somewhat reluctantly, gave Aiden to his wife. She cuddled the little man close to her and took him into the bedroom.
“We have some work to do tomorrow,” Ethan said. “I figure we spend a day getting everything ready, and then head out early Saturday morning. With any luck, we can clear out Alan’s shop and get everything back here before noon.”
“With any luck,” I said, shaking my head. “Seems like the world is running mighty short on luck these days.”
“We’re still alive, aren’t we?” Ethan replied.
“Yeah, I guess we are.”
Andrea walked back in the room and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Did you eat anything yet?” she asked.
“Yeah, I did, thanks.”
She nodded and sat down on the couch next to Ethan.
“I hear you had a little run-in with Steve today,” she said.
I winced at the memory. I had actually managed to put it out of my mind while enjoying a peaceful moment with Ethan and the baby.
“Yes. I did. Fucker pushed my buttons a few too many times. I let him know I wasn’t impressed.”
“He’s a good man, Eric, he’s just a little paranoid. His brother was one of the people who got shot when Arthur and his cronies tried to steal from the compound.”
My eyebrows went up. “Holy shit,” I said. “Man, that’s tough. What were their names again? The two guys who got shot?”
“John McCray and Gil Steed. Good men, both,” Ethan said.
“Which one was Steve’s brother?”
“John,” Andrea replied. “Ever since his brother died, Steve just hasn’t been the same. He’s been distant and angry, and he snaps at anyone who tries to talk to him. He still pulls his weight around the compound as far as work and guard duties go, but other than that he just wants to be left alone.”
“So what was John like?” I asked.
“Young, about our age,” Ethan replied. “He was a full ten years younger than Steve. We stood guard duty together pretty often, and he told me all about his life to pass the time. Their old man was a useless drunk who skipped out on them when Steve was thirteen, and Steve spent most of his life helping raise his brother. When he turned eighteen, he joined the Army and sent nearly every dime he made back home to his mother. He made it up through the ranks pretty quick, and after his first tour, he applied for Special Forces training. Served with the Green Berets for a few years before the war broke out in ’01. He did a tour in Afghanistan and two in Iraq. He got out of the military and went to work as a civilian firearms instructor out in Arizona. He just happened to be in town visiting his family when the outbreak happened. John and his mother bought a house in our neighborhood about three years ago. Barbara saved most of the money Steve sent her over the years, and what she didn’t use to put John through college, she saved to buy a house. John lived with his mother, but unlike a lot of guys his age, it wasn’t out of laziness. He had a good job in the IT department at one of the big bank headquarters in Charlotte. His mother had some health problems that made it difficult for her to work, so John got her on his health insurance and made sure that all the bills got paid. Steve came around whenever his work schedule allowed to make sure they were doing okay. As much as John always looked up to Steve, Steve was the one who was the most proud. John grew up in a rough neighborhood. At least until he was about fourteen, anyway. By that point, Steve was sending enough money for them to move into an apartment in a better neighborhood. He grew up without a father, and because his mother worked two jobs and was hardly ever home, he didn’t have a lot of supervision or guidance. Most kids in a situation like that will find all kinds of ways to get themselves in trouble, but John didn’t do that. He kept away from drugs and gangs, and he worked hard in school. He even managed to earn himself a partial academic scholarship at UNC Chapel Hill. He got a master’s degree in computer science in just five years, and then moved back to Charlotte to take care of his mother.”
“Sounds like he was a good man,” I said.
“He was. He always said he wished he could have followed in his brother’s footsteps and joined the Army. Steve just laughed at him when he said things like that. Told him he was too smart to serve in the military. When the outbreak hit, they were with us when we left our neighborhood. They helped fight our way to I-85.
Man, that place was a nightmare. It was swarming with undead. The military was shooting at anything that moved, and there were thousands of people trying to get away from the city. My father and I kept everyone hidden in the basement of an abandoned office building until the military fell back. We didn’t even make it to the highway before the creeps saw us and started swarming in our direction. Our only choice was to keep moving and shoot our way through. We lost a lot of people then, and Steve’s mother was one of them. They got cut off from the rest us, and no one could get around to them to help them. Steve opened up with that big battle-rifle of his and told John to get their mother clear. John tries to get going, but one of the infected reaches out from a car window and grabs Barbara by the arm. The infected was just a little girl, and Barbara was so stunned that she didn’t try to fight it off until after it bit her. John turns around a second too late, and blows the thing’s head off with a pistol. I lost track of what happened to them after that, I was too busy busting heads with my fire axe.”
Ethan went silent and stared into space. Andrea took up the story.
“Ethan and his father saw Emily and Justin trapped on top of a bus surrounded by the infected. They sent the rest of us ahead and went over to help.”
I smiled at Andrea. “Yeah, Earl told me about that.”
She flushed and looked down for a moment. Ethan chuckled and ran a hand over her shoulder.
“I may have been a little upset at the time,” she said.
“Upset? Is that what you were? Considering the scratches and bruises on Earl when I found you guys that night, you were a little more than upset,” Ethan said, smiling.
Andrea rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I have apologized to Earl many times for that. He has made it clear to me that he has no hard feelings, so unless you would like to have a little taste of what he got, I would suggest that you stop bringing it up.”
Ethan laughed and held up his hands. “Fine, fine, sorry I mentioned it.”
“Okay, I have a couple of questions,” I said. “First, what happened with Emily and Justin?”
“They were on their own trying to get across I-85 the same as us. The Army was sending out broadcasts that they had established a safe zone at Iron Station. The two of them were trying make their way up there with a few others when they were surrounded by infected while trying to cross the highway. Justin managed to climb on top of a big pickup truck and scrambled on top of a bus. He pulled Emily up after him, and they were stuck there for two days. Hundreds of people made it across the highway within sight of them, but no one would stop to help. At least that was what they told me afterward.
My father and I saw the two of them waving to us and crying out for help. Even from a distance, I could tell they were in bad shape. We were most of the way to the road by then. Now, what you need to understand is, crossing the highway itself wasn’t the problem. If you could make it to the tops of the cars, you stood a pretty good chance of getting across. The problem was making it that far. There were thousands of cars, on and off the road, crashed, smashed, and stuck in rows for as far as the eye could see. Half the cars on the highway were on fire, and the military, who we thought were gone, showed up in attack helicopters and started strafing the highway. I don’t know what they thought they were going to accomplish. There were thousands of infected out there.”
Ethan stopped speaking for a moment and shook his head, his face grim as he relived the memory.
“Anyway, when my father and I saw the two kids trapped up there we knew we had to do something. I was out of ammo for my pistol, so I used a fire axe I took from a dead firefighter. As it turns out, the thing works pretty well for putting down creeps, especially the spiked part on the back.
My dad had an M4 and about a gazillion rounds for it. He cleared the way to the bus, and I covered his back with the fire axe. Dad laid down fire as I helped the two kids get down from the roof. A fuck load of creeps had surrounded us, so we climbed on top of the cars and started running from roof to roof. Dad was a crack shot with that little rifle and he kept the infected from getting too close. We were doing okay for a little while, until Emily slipped on the roof of an Escalade and sprained her ankle pretty bad.
I had to help Justin carry her, so I couldn’t swing the axe. The way ahead of us was swarming with undead. Dad got on top of a city utility truck and told us to make a bee-line for the other side of the highway. He pulled sniper duty on the creeps while the three of us got clear of the highway. Once we were about thirty yards from the nearest undead I turned around to see if Dad was following us. He was up to his knees in creeps, firing into them as fast as he could, but there were too many of them. He saw me start to run in his direction and put a bullet in the ground right at my feet. He hollered at me to get the hell out of there, and then turned and ran across the cars in the other direction. That was the last I saw of him.”
Ethan’s expression grew tighter and more pained as he spoke. By the time he finished, he was talking through clenched teeth. He wrung his big hands in front of him. The muscles in his forearms twisted and bunched like thick cables under his skin. Andrea leaned over and put an arm around his shoulders, as he sat forward and put his elbows on his knees.
“I should have followed him. I should have done something.”
“Sweetie, it’s not your fault. Your father did an incredibly brave thing, and so did you. We don’t even know for sure that something happened to him,” Andrea said.
“Then why hasn’t he shown up yet? I mean, he was the one that came up with the idea to come here in the first place. He knew where we were going.”
The two of them were silent for a long moment. Andrea looked lost for anything to say. I leaned forward and put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.
“We’ve all lost people we love. If your father gave his life to save yours, then I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Beating yourself up isn’t going to do you, or anyone else, a damn bit of good. You have a family, and a community that needs you. Don’t lose sight of that,” I said.
Ethan looked up at me and nodded.
“You’re right, you’re right. It’s just hard, you know? Not knowing.”
“I lost my parents too, about five years ago. I know how you feel, and I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but it doesn’t. You just learn to accept it, and you move on with your life,” I said.
Ethan heaved a sigh, and ran a hand through his hair.
“I think I’m going to go lay down. I’ll see you in the morning, Eric.”
Ethan stood up and walked into his bedroom without looking at either Andrea or I. Andrea was a bit misty eyed, and looked for all the world like a sad, delicate little woman. She sat with her back ramrod straight, her fingers working at the hem of a pillow in her lap, fidgeting and uncomfortable. I wanted to stand up and give her a hug, but I didn’t for fear that the gesture would be unwanted. After a few awkward moments, I stood up and turned to leave.
“Thanks for all your hospitality, Andrea, I really do appreciate it. It’s been a long time since I had a chance to make any new friends. I count you and Ethan among the best people I’ve ever been lucky enough to meet.”
Andrea looked up and me and smiled. She seemed to relax somewhat.
“That’s very kind of you, Eric. I’m grateful to you for helping Ethan, and for offering to help all the other folks around here. You’re a stronger man than you know.”
I flushed at the sincere intensity of her blue-eyed gaze. Her words had an effect on me that is difficult to describe. I felt inspired, sad, hopeful, and some powerful, determined, fearsome thing that I can’t put a name to, all at the same time. Most of all, I felt appreciated. It’s nice to know that there is at least one good person out there in the world that thinks you’re worth a damn. Very nice indeed. I wiped at my face as I walked out the door to the common area. Damned dust getting in my eyes again.
I wandered back over to the picnic table where I had seen Stacy earlier. She was still sitting there along with the fit young woman who had spoken in my defense earlier at the meeting. They sat across the table from one another, leaning forward and conversing in low tones. Stacy noticed me and smiled. The woman in front of her stood and offered me a strong, long fingered hand.
“Hi. Jessica Robinson, nice to meet you,” she said.
I could not help but notice her soft, slightly almond shaped eyes and her surprisingly strong grip. She stood nearly eye-to-eye with me, and lithe muscles rippled beneath her flawless mocha skin. She was obviously strong, but it was an alluring, feminine kind of strength.
“Nice to meet you ma’am. Thank you for speaking up for me today, that was very kind of you. I appreciate it,” I said.
“You can thank me by delivering on your promises,” she replied.
“I intend to do so. Barring incident, of course.”
Jessica released my hand and stepped away from the table.
“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, kids. We got a lot of work to do, so don’t stay up too late.”
She smiled teasingly at Stacy, who blushed up to the tips of her ears even as she gracefully gestured for me to sit down across from her.
“So what brings you over my way, handsome?” she asked, giving me a sideways smile.
“Just looking for some friendly company, I guess,” I said as I sat down across from her. We were silent for a moment looking at one another, neither of us quite knowing what to say.
“Big day tomorrow, huh?” Stacy asked, breaking the awkward silence.
I nodded. “We’re not heading out until the day after tomorrow, but we have a lot of preparations to make in the meantime. Are you coming with us?”
“No, a few of us will stay behind to look after the children. Andrea will be on guard duty for the supply run, and she asked me to look after Aiden while she’s gone.”
I raised an eyebrow at that.
“I have to admit, that surprises me. I would have figured she’d want to stay close to her son.”
“She does, but she’s a damn good shooter, and the folks doing the supply run will need every marksman that they can get. Markswoman. Whatever. Andrea can do everyone a lot more good by protecting the people gathering supplies than she can by sitting around here babysitting.”
“Where did Andrea learn to shoot? I thought she was a nurse,” I said.
“Ethan’s father taught her. They used to compete in some kind of firearms competition. I think she called it ‘Three-Gun’ or something like that. She dropped a lot of creeps on the way out here, until she ran out of bullets.”
“Wow. I never would have guessed. What about Ethan? Can he shoot too?”
Stacy laughed. “I’ve seen him shoot pretty well with a pistol. I’m not sure how good he is with a rifle, but I can tell you for certain that he is hell-on-wheels with a fire axe.”
“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t have to demonstrate that particular skill. If all goes well, we should be able to take what the compound needs without a shot fired, or an axe swung, for that matter.
“So what do you get out of all this?” Stacy asked. “I mean, are you planning to stay here? Is that why you’re helping?”
Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I heard a note of hopefulness in her tone. I thought about it for a second, and I really did not know what I planned to do at that point. The people at the compound seemed to have a good thing going, and staying there didn’t seem like such a bad idea. On the other hand, I was worried about Gabriel, and I still felt the need to find him.
“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “It just seems like the right thing to do.”
Stacy opened her mouth to say something else when gunfire erupted from the roof of the warehouse. A few seconds later a bell began ringing loudly. The compound’s residents, most of whom were in their respective shelters winding down for the evening, came pouring out their doors and gathered in the common area, weapons in hand. Ethan stepped out of his shack with his SCAR rifle in one hand, and a big fire axe with an orange and black fiberglass handle in the other.
“Everyone take up defensive positions!” he shouted over the commotion.
“Hold up, Ethan, I’ll be right back!” I shouted as I sprinted toward my truck.
I grabbed my load-bearing harness and one of my rifles, strapped it on as quickly as I could, and ran back to the other side of the warehouse. I was still wearing shorts and flip-flops, and cursed myself for not changing into something more practical earlier in the day. The flimsy sandals impeded my running, so I kicked them off and went barefoot. I must have looked ridiculous in tactical gear while dressed like a guy getting ready to spend a day at the beach.
Bill, Earl, and Justin came out, and in a few short moments they had organized the startled crowd into two fire teams. One of them ran to the side of the warehouse with the rolling door and set up a field of fire to cover it. The other group fanned out in a semi-circle around the steel entrance closest to the common area. Cody, Stan, Steve, and Ethan stacked up on one side of the entrance, while a man I hadn’t met yet covered the entrance with a shotgun. Ethan had set the handle of his axe into a makeshift sling, and held his SCAR at the ready. Steve was in front with his M1A as the point man. I caught up to them and took up position beside Ethan.
“What are we doing?” I asked.
“We’re getting ready to clear the entrance and help the guys up on the roof. You see anything dead coming at you when we open the door, put it down, and then make your way to the scaffold. Try not to shoot any of us while you’re at it.”
Ethan stopped for a moment, and looked down at my feet. “Dude, where are your shoes?”
“Sorry. I didn’t have time to put them on,” I replied, not quite sure why I was apologizing.
Ethan chuckled and shook his head. “Well, watch your step then, and stay close to me.”
“Get ready to move!” Steve shouted from the front.
He was in a half crouch, leaning forward into his rifle with the front sight slightly below his line of vision. I dropped into a similar stance that Gabriel taught me, and readied myself to go out the door. Steve lifted the bar across the door and pulled it open. The man with the shotgun moved forward and checked as much as he could see without stepping out of the warehouse.
“Clear to thirty yards, check your corners,” he shouted.
I tried to call to mind everything Gabriel ever taught me about close-quarters tactics as Steve moved forward and stepped out the door to the left. Cody followed close behind and branched off to the right. Stan went out and followed Steve. I stayed behind Ethan as we exited, being careful to exercise muzzle discipline (AKA not pointing my gun at the guy in front of me) as I moved.
Ethan turned to the right and I followed him. The sky above was overcast, but the light still stung my eyes after the gloom of the warehouse. I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision and looked around as I ran. Cracked and crumbling pavement covered the ground behind the warehouse for fifty yards, and then turned into a field of overgrown weeds that terminated at a tree line about thirty yards further away. At least three dozen infected stood in the open space between the warehouse and the trees with dozens more stumbling out of the woods behind them.
“Holy shit,” I muttered.
Steve and Cody opened up with their rifles, dropping an infected with each shot. Steve’s powerful battle-rifle blew the undeads’ heads apart in a black and gray plume of rotten gore every time he pulled the trigger. The roar of the big gun was deafening. Stan and Ethan began firing in front of us, and I realized that I had stopped moving to watch Steve and Cody. I turned and hurried to Ethan’s side and crouched into a firing stance. Stan and Ethan were picking off targets as soon as they got to within twenty yards. I flipped of the safety and chambered a round, then lined up the red dot on my optical sights with an infected forehead and began firing.
The sights on my gun allowed me to shoot with both eyes open, and the suppressor made the H&K much quieter than the unsuppressed rifles the other defenders carried. The staccato chatter of gunfire drowned out my ability to hear anything other than rifles unloading hot lead into the walking corpses around us. I’m not sure how many undead I put down, I missed a few shots in all the commotion, but I know I used up one magazine and more than half of another before Steve called a cease fire.
“That’s enough, get to the roof,” he ordered.
We all turned and sprinted toward the wooden spiral staircase and clambered to the top. My adrenaline pump was going full blast, and I was slightly winded by the time I got onto the roof. A man and two women that I recognized from the meeting earlier in the day were busy picking off the infected. The two women sat near the edge of the building and fired .22 rifles at the undead. The man had a scoped AR15 on a bipod, and fired from the prone position. Every time he pulled the trigger, a revenant hit the ground. The two women took out anything that he did not have time to pick off, letting the creatures get to within twenty meters before firing. At close range, the little rifles that the women used were very accurate and effective, but there were too many undead emerging from the surrounding forest for them to be able to shoot them all. Steve ordered the four of us to spread out and pick an area to defend. I moved to the far side of the wall closest to the tree line, and Ethan took up position twenty feet to my right.
“Take care of anything that comes from that direction,” he said pointing diagonally away from the warehouse’s northeastern corner. “I’ll take out anything from the closest part of the wood line.”
I nodded and sat down into a shooting position. I kicked myself mentally for not fixing a bipod to my rifle’s lower rail, and took a few deep breaths to slow my heartbeat. I ignored the loud bangs and cracks of gunfire around me, and focused on controlling my breathing. I looked around to see what angles of fire the other defenders were controlling, and mentally drew two lines radiating from the corner of the warehouse all the way to the tree line. I spent the next few minutes firing on anything that wandered into my territory. It was strange, but there was something very Zen-like about clearing my mind and focusing only on hitting the next target.
Line up the dot, aim a little high, crack.
Line up the dot, aim a little high, crack.
Over and over again, until my rifle was empty. I took out the empty magazine, set it aside, and loaded a fresh one. The cycle began again until the next time I had to reload. By the time I got to my last clip, I could feel heat from the barrel radiating out through the four-sided shroud. I was down to just ten rounds when I dropped the last infected within my field of fire. I looked around, and most of the other defenders had either stopped shooting, or were picking off the last few stragglers.
“Cease fire!” Steve called. There were only five undead left, and I didn’t see any more coming out of the tree line.
“We’ll take out the rest by hand,” he said, and motioned for Ethan to follow him.
Ethan slung his rifle over his shoulders and unlimbered his fire axe. I followed the two men down the staircase, and when we reached the bottom, Steve turned and pointed a finger at me.
“Not you,” he said. “Ethan and I will take care of these assholes.”
“I don’t remember asking for your fucking permission,” I said, as I walked past him.
I drew my pistol as I approached the last few infected. They were spread out pretty far, with at least twenty yards between them. I jogged over to the two farthest from the warehouse and took aim with the Kel-Tec. The gun bucked in my hand twice, and the revenants fell down, twitching for a moment before going still. Steve had fixed a bayonet to the end of his M1A, and drove it through the eye socket of an infected after knocking it to the ground with a perfectly executed reverse foot sweep. Ethan dispatched his two by casually planting the spike end of his fire axe in the tops of their skulls, and booting them away with a powerful front kick. The three of us spent a few minutes checking around to make sure no more were coming, and then made our way back to the warehouse.
“You shoot pretty good,” Ethan said to me as we neared the entrance.
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” I replied.
The fight seemed to have improved Steve’s spirits, and he even smiled a little as he approached us.
“Pretty nice little bit of fun, eh buddy?” he gave Ethan a light punch on the shoulder.
Ethan nodded and gave him a grim smile, “Yeah, well, the fun part is over. We need to get a clean-up crew together and get rid of all these corpses. Must be nearly four hundred of the damn things.”
“What do you think brought them all out here?” Stan said, approaching us from the other side of the warehouse.
Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. Got any theories, Eric?”
I frowned, and considered the question for a moment before responding.
“I can’t say for certain, but I think these things might have some kind of herd mentality. It would explain why I keep seeing them moving in hordes.”
Ethan frowned, and Steve’s smile faltered.
“That is not a comforting thought,” Ethan said.
“We should head inside and let everyone know it’s clear,” Cody chimed in.
Ethan agreed, and knocked three times on the steel door.
“It’s Ethan, you can give the all clear.”
I heard the sound of the bar being lifted, and the man with the shotgun opened the door.
“Any casualties?” he asked.
“Not unless you count those bastards.” Ethan pointed a thumb behind him at the piles of dead bodies.
The five of us walked through the door back into the compound. It took a moment for my vision to adjust to the gloom, and my ears were still ringing from all the gunfire. Bill and Andrea looked all of us over, and asked us to give them our clothes. Andrea used the wooden partitions from the showers to set up a screen for us while we disrobed. We gave our clothes to Stacy and a few others over the top of the screen so that they could wash and sterilize them. Bill brought us buckets of water and bars of soap, and ordered us to scrub ourselves down.
“Before you go get dressed, I need to check each of you for any traces of infected blood or tissue,” he said at one point, with clinical detachment.
I used up most of the little bar of soap cleaning myself, and sponged water from the bucket to rinse off. Bill looked me over, pausing when he saw my feet.
“Did you go out there barefoot?” he asked, frowning.
“Yes, I did. And before you start, I know that was a stupid thing to do. It won’t happen again.” Bill glared at me for a moment, then nodded and checked my feet.
“I don’t see any cuts or scrapes. You got lucky.”
He dismissed me with a wave and motioned for Ethan to step forward. Noah Salinger stood at the edge of the partition and handed me a towel. I dried off quickly and turned to walk back to my truck with the towel around my waist.
“Hey, Eric. These belong to you,” Noah said, holding out my sandals.
“Right, thanks man. I appreciate it.”
Noah nodded as I put on my sandals and walked back to my truck. I put on a pair of Army surplus BDU pants, boots, and a t-shirt. I was lacing up my boots when I noticed Stacy approaching.
“Busy day, huh?” she said as she sat down on the concrete in front of me.
“Yeah, little bit.”
“You okay?”
I laughed a little at the question. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
A half smile turned up one corner of her mouth as she shook her head at me.
“You’re not just acting tough, are you? You really mean it.”
“I’m not really interested in being tough, so I guess I do.”
“I thought all guys wanted to be tough.”
I laughed again. “Not this one. I’d rather be smart than tough any day of the week.”
Stacy’s smile widened, and it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.
“You planning on sleeping out here tonight?” she asked.
“Yeah, after I get done helping dispose of the bodies outside.”
“I have a better idea,” she said as she stood up and offered me a hand.
“How about you come over to my place, and we spend the night together. Let the others take care of the bodies.”
I felt my blood heat up immediately. Stacy saw me flush, and stepped closer to me. I took her hand and followed her to her little shelter. It consisted of a bed, a chest of drawers, and a bar suspended between two walls that did the job of a closet.
“Welcome to my home. It’s not much, but…well, it’s not much.” She smiled as she held her arms up to encompass the room.
I responded by sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close. Her arms wound around my neck as she stood on her toes and kissed me. She did an amazingly thorough job, and wrapped her legs around me as I lifted her up. We spent the rest of the evening in her little bed venting all of the stress, worry, tension and fear that we had both kept pent up inside of us for the last three months. When we were spent, we fell asleep with our naked bodies entwined around one another.
As I drifted off to sleep, I let myself relax for the first time in months, and simply enjoyed the feeling of holding a beautiful woman in my arms.