A New World: Untold Stories (30 page)

Zack started scanning the structure. Instead of the abandoned sporting goods store that they expected, he found a remarkably secure facility with guard towers and lights in a bustle of activity. Semi’s were hauling varied items in and leaving empty. Military type personnel raced like rats in a maze as they rode in armored vehicles outside the perimeter of the store. It occurred to everyone; this must be one the groups that were on the Highway 16 bridge in that firefight and should be avoided at all costs. Roger’s hand on his arm directed his attention toward the snipers who were setting up positions for an assault.

“We gotta get out of here,” Zack said with urgency.

“It is too late for that. If they start taking out guards, we couldn’t run fast or far enough to get away from their equipment and they’ll think that we were with them,” Roger said with a cast to his features that said he was either terrified or really excited. “Have you ever killed anyone, Zack?”

Zack nodded his head in response. It was hard not to have killed people in this world. “Not like this, though. I mean it was self-defense.”

“Well, you’re going to have to learn on the fly. Janine too. Sam, you as well. Elise you need to watch what is going on at that encampment and let us know if they’re coming our way.”

Roger finished, automatically taking charge, leaving the three non-trained staring at each other without really knowing what to do.

“Think about it people. Two .50 cal Barrett's with spotters and high tech scopes. These have to be the ones who killed your friends in the train car. Who else could it be? They already tried to kill you once and as an ex street cop in New York, I can tell you that somebody is going to die here today. It’s up to us to determine who. It could be a couple of those in the compound, which would backlash at us simply due to our location, or it could be us that die. The only other option is them. They should be the ones who pay the dues today. Not us or those over there, but them,” Roger finished as Zack watched the snipers, trying not to acknowledge what he was going to have to do.

The spotter of the closer pair was looking around as if he might have heard something but Zack doubted it because of the berm they hid behind and the surrounding foliage. The shooter started opening his packs in synchronized motion with his partner assassin in the distance.

“Come on, we don’t have much time to think about this. We gotta move now. Zack, they’re snipers. Snipers aren’t like you and me. They just aren’t…wired like everyone else,” Roger said almost pleading.

“I’m in,” Sam said to Zack’s shock.

“Wha?” Zack said in protest.

Sam gave a single nod of his head and started walking towards the distant duo, choosing his target as Zack watched him in amazement. Elise looked at Zack with large frightened eyes before she reached out and grabbed the binoculars from Zack. She gave one meaningful, quick nod of her head; jaw set, tight lipped and resolved to do what she had to do. She moved to get a better vantage point in order to watch the compound.

“I’m in, too,” Janine said as she checked the load on her .22 rifle.

She turned the safety off, pointed herself towards the closer duo, and started moving down the ravine.

“That one is wearing my dead mothers scarf around his greasy neck. I’ll have no problem killing him,” she stated, referring to the spotter.

That fact left no doubt that this was the group that had killed their friends back in the train car.

“You gotta do it, Zack, or we’re all dead. Get close and shove a couple of those plungers into the back of the shooters head just like he was a screamer. You can do it. You gotta do it.”

****

“We have the wind out of the west so come in from the east. I’ll wait for you to be right on him before I start shooting,” Janine said, making Zack wonder why everybody thought that he was in charge.

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” Zack asked to which she simply smirked and nodded her head.

Zack shook his head as he crouched low and slowly started moving through the brush, his plungers exposed within his open jacket and his knife angled for easy access.

Wind whispered through the brush, covering any sound and pushing his scent away from his target. He approached, trusting his memory as to their location, afraid to look lest his own eye contact draw their attention. He saw Janine behind him signal to get down and he slowly slid on to his belly. Peeking through the base of the brush, seeing the spotter once again, he scanned the woods behind him before turning back to the task at hand. Janine signaled with elaborate hand gestures, something that Zack had no clue as to its meaning, so he moved on knowing that he only had a few feet to go and he would be set. He focused his eyes on the forest floor to make sure he didn’t step on anything so dry that it would snap or crackle.

Two pops from hand guns followed by something that sounded more like a cannon in comparison echoed through the trees, signaling it had started. Janine was up and firing at the spotter, her eye focused down the barrel as he heard three quick shots from the semi-automatic .22 rifle.

Zack didn’t remember screaming as he lunged, though the retelling said that he did. There wasn’t a plan and he didn’t know the terrain, but he was close enough to catch the shooter by surprise. He broke through the brush in a half crouch, suddenly in a race with the shooter who was trying to bring his incredibly long rifle around to fire on whomever was jumping out at him. Zack could tell from the change in his features that he wasn’t going to be able to swing the barrel up in time so he let go with his right and stopped Zack short with an open hand to his throat.

Zack plunged the wooden stake into the shooter’s side, aiming for where his heart would be, and falling on top of the man who was one-handedly crushing his larynx. Zack had missed the heart coming in just below it, severing the vena cava. Zack was shaking with adrenalin and fear, wondering what was going to happen next because he could do nothing but stare into the bulging eyes of his adversary. He started to feel light-headed as his airway was closed off by the man’s grip and Zack swirled the plunger around as if he were using a mixing bowl. The man was much like himself in age and build but with one significant difference Zack wasn’t a murderer.

The man’s grip lessened and he sunk a little lower as blood left his body, allowing Zack to finally catch a breath. He kept staring into the eyes, which now showed fear as the realization of what was happening took root. His grasp slid down to become more of a clutch at the neck line of Zack shirt as he fell closer to the leafy mat. Then, he went limp. Zack’s gaze fell to the pukka shell necklace lying flatly on the shooters neck. It looked a lot like Renee’s necklace. Renee, who was murdered in the rail car on that night that seemed so long ago.

Roger and Sam returned with smiles on their faces and loaded down with newly confiscated gear. Roger came up and slapped Zack on the shoulder. Zack didn’t move but merely sat and stared at the man he had just murdered.

He was a thief and a murderer…a robber of the dead. He deserved to die
, he thought continuing to stare at the now unfocused eyes.

“Unfortunately, Zack, it gets easier,” Roger said.

“I heard two pistols, Roger. Where did the other one come from?” Zack asked as he looked at the man who had orchestrated the bloodshed.

“I am an ex-cop, Zack. Where do you think it came from?”

* * * *

They stood in the shadows cast from a sinking sun next to the Big Five sporting goods store, their alternative for supplies. They knew they had to get a lot of gear in order to keep them and everyone on the island secure, and were pleased to see the cube van parked next to the building by the loading dock. The sun was already starting to turn pink as it sunk behind the western hills.

“I don’t like being out here at night guys. Maybe we should head for the boats?” Roger said with more than a little apprehension, planning to spend another night in a makeshift poncho tent while riding the waves in a kayak.

“Relax, Roger. This is how we’ve survived for months before you scooped us out of the sound,” Zack said calmly as he strapped his line man spikes on to his boots. “There’s only two ways to clear a building of screamers; loud and bloody, or pick one that’s already empty.”

He quickly scaled the light pole next to the loading dock and quietly eased himself onto the flat roof of the structure. Three ropes dropped down from the roof after only a second as Janine leaned in and whispered into Roger’s ear.

“This is where you’ll have to be quieter than you have ever been before, especially when we get on the roof. Tie your gear on the end of the rope and we’ll pull it up behind us.”

It only took a couple of minutes before everyone and their gear were on the roof and perched above the front door ready for the darkness to bring out the dread. Roger wondered how much sound could actually transfer through a pitch and gravel flat roof but didn’t want to find out, so he carefully measured each step he took so as not to disturb any of the loose stones.

The first distant screams of the evening was the sounding of the bell as screamers started pouring out of the main entry beneath them. Surprisingly, this was one of the few buildings holding screamers in the area. Typically, they would have to wait for hours before the area cleared enough to risk getting back on the ground. However, these screamers couldn’t get out of the area quick enough and seemed to have their attention fixed towards the western sky, which is where the fortified Cabelas was. As if in answer to their unspoken question, a military transport plane of some sort flew out of the encampment and started circling the city. The screamers ran even faster with their heads tucked low as if they could avoid being spotted, their fear evident.

“Maybe those in the plane have cleare…” Roger started but was quickly pulled to the side behind the facade on the front of the building by Janine.

“Never talk outside at night!” she whispered fiercely into his ear before backing away with serious eyes and a finger held to her lips.

The beasts didn’t even hesitate as fifteen or so infected rushed into the night trying to hide from the plane, leaving the troop feeling very much alone. Zack made them wait half an hour before he dropped the ropes, rappelled to the ground, and entered the dark but assumed empty store. The glass on the door was smashed in typical screamer fashion and the foot pads of many trips in and out were evidence of a long time habitation of this property. Zack knew they would be back. If there was one thing he had learned in this new world, it was that they always returned where they felt safe and comfortable. A long time habitation though was good in that the supplies they needed were probably still inside.

“First, we secure the entrances and then we sleep until they return. That is when the fun really begins,” Janine whispered to Roger, who was starting to appreciate the experience of this group he had pulled out of the sound. “We’ll sort out some of the weapons and rounds first though.”

“What is that stench?” Roger asked as he wrinkled his nose.

“You really haven’t been around these things have you?” Zack interjected. “That stench is what we smell like after months without soap and water. Okay, we have to get this place secured. You and Janine, find the roof access and make sure these window cages are locked before you go behind the counter.” He finished as he motioned toward the large windows and the already rolled down security cages. If secured, they were rated to stop a car at thirty mph Roger recalled from his training in the N.Y.P.D.

“We’re going to check the back and other doors. When we get back, we’ll secure this one,” Zack continued, knowing that it was just a matter of locking the steel security doors that typically occupied the non-public walls of a commercial building.

Within an hour, they had the building secure and several file cabinets laid on their backs, stacked so that the small ends completely filled the door’s opening. They removed the drawers and filled the steel cabinet insides with a pallet of sand bags that were labeled as a special order for a Mr. J. O'Brien. He was probably some prepper that everyone thought was borderline crazy in the old world. Now what would they think of Mr. O’Brien? He probably hadn’t survived the initial onslaught of the disease.

Guns and rounds were stocked up for the night’s upcoming events when the screamers returned and stations assigned for the inevitable assault. They had access to all sort of sleeping gear and made the best of it for several hours. Long before the first rays of the sun even hinted at making an entrance, the five survivors were cowering in their bags trying to stay away from the shards of glass that rained down upon them as the main display windows blew in. The rumble of a distant explosion of almost nuclear capacity raged in the distance.

“Holy fuck!” Janine said as she popped her head out of her bag.

She looked toward a bright spot off to the side of the window frame where the edge of a mushroom cloud could be seen. They were out of the bags and looking through the shattered windows at the fading glow and an ominous cloud forming in the near distance.

“Nukes?”

“No, if it was nukes, we’d be dead being this close,” Roger replied. “Maybe it’s something like a fuel tank that ruptured from a lack of maintenance. It could’ve blown for any number of reasons. We’re bound to see a lot more of that happening as man’s footprint is slowly erased.”