Apocalypse Aftermath (10 page)

Peter had never seriously considered the end of civilization.  Not seriously.  Not a nuts-and-bolts consideration.  But as a zombie staggered into view on the western road, he knew he needed to start.  Fast.

Close to dusk, as others in his little makeshift unit of soldiers came on watch, Peter knocked on one of the motel doors.  It opened to reveal the florid, round face of the former city manager of Cartersville.  Peter nodded politely to him.  “Hey BB, mind if I come in?”

Bennett Burns stepped back from the door and gestured vaguely.  “Sure sergeant.  Uh,
Master Gunnery Sergeant I mean.  Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Peter shrugged as he stepped into the motel room.  “Call me Gunny.”

The television was on, but the picture was just a static strewn image of a map of Georgia; more static than map.  He heard a hesitant voice, far less than the usual strong, polished tones typically heard on television, describing what sounded like zombie sightings; but the audio was heavily distorted and fading in and out irregularly.  A wire coat hanger was propped up against the wall behind the television, disappearing behind the set.

“Anything useful on the tube?”

Burns shook his head, clearly frustrated.  “I knew the major Atlanta stations had all evacuated out of their usual studios, but for a while there on Saturday their transmitters were still going and broadcasting what could be sent from other locations.  Now all I can find is PBS, and the TV’s not set up for anything except cable.  I managed to rig up just enough antenna to get the one station, but so far they don’t sound like they know much more than we do.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I figured as much.  We might want to see about holding this little talk outside on the walkway so everyone can listen in.” BB said, gesturing at the half open door.

“You’re their leader.”

BB shook his head.  “No I’m not.”

“You’re as good as they’ve got.”

“No, that’d be you.”

Now Peter shook his head.  “I’m in charge of eleven reservists, one of whom is injured.  And they’re all volunteers at this point.  They could decide to split if they want to.”

“I hope not.  Anyway, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still the one in charge.”

“You’re the politician.”

BB’s voice was calm, but stressed.  “No I’m not.  I was an employee of the city of Cartersville.  Emphasis on employee.  The mayor recommended me and the city council hired me.  They were voted on; they were the politicians.”

Peter sat himself at the room’s little table and rested his AR against the arm of his chair.  “The refugees seem to be responding to you.
  They did when we were rescuing you anyway, near as I can tell.  And to date I’d say you’re keeping your head better than any of the rest of them.  As far as I’m concerned you’re the guy.”

BB frowned as he sank down on the bed.  He opened his mouth, hesitated, then sighed.  “I’m an accountant with a touch of experience in project planning.  If they’re counting on me then we’re in deep shit.  I’m the guy who makes sure the bills get paid and the supplies in the warehouses are kept stocked.  Next to you I’m a joke.”

“I’m a senior Marine NCO, retired.” Peter said calmly.  “But as far as managing civilians, I’m barely a novice.  The kind of leadership that works on Marines and soldiers doesn’t transfer all that readily to civilians used to a gentler hand.”

“I guess you might have a point there, but I’d be surprised if anyone was willing to argue with you about it.”

“They don’t have to.  I know my limits.” Peter shrugged.

“So neither of us are suited to riding herd over our little group.  What’s the rest of the bad news?” BB asked.

“My logistics guy, who used to be a cook even though he’ll tell anyone in earshot he quit working in the kitchen for a reason, ran some numbers for me.  As long as the power holds out,” he began – mentally adding
“and as long as no one else wanders by and wants to lay a claim to it.”
without voicing the qualifier – “the freezer in the Wendy’s on the other side of the Interstate has enough food to feed everyone here for at least a week, maybe ten days.”

“But the power’s not going to hold.”

The Marine nodded.  “Exactly.  I’m surprised it’s even still on here.  Atlanta was all but completely dark when we got out yesterday.  Between here and there we saw a lot of other spots that were out too.  Once the power goes, anything we can cook might hold for another day, maybe, then it’ll be asking for a case of food poisoning to eat it without proper storage.  Which we won’t have without ice or refrigerators.”

“The truck stop’s got bagged stuff that’ll buy some time.”

“True, but potato chips and jerky only go so far.  There are nearly fifty mouths here that need feeding.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Scavenging.” Peter said with a slight sigh.  “It’s not original, but it’s that or starve.  Problem is my guys can’t take thirty-six people traipsing around with us and get a whole lot done, and we can’t just take off and expect you civilians to hold on here while we’re gone.  There are still wandering zombies showing up far too frequently to count on there not being something of a repeat of Cartersville when we get back.”

“Do you have more weapons you could equip some of us with?” BB asked with a flick of his eyes at the big MARTA bus parked outside just past the edge of the walkway.

“We do, at least for some of you.” Peter admitted.  “And the ammunition to go with it, but I’m concerned about experience levels and panic.”

“See, you’re the guy.  What’s your solution.”

“Split us up.”

“The hell with that.” a voice said from the doorway.  Both men turned as a brown haired man pushed the door all the way opened and stepped inside.  “You can’t just ditch us.”

“Now hang on—” BB began.

“Mr. Harris, that’s not my intention at this time.” Peter said calmly, recognizing the man from earlier in the morning, before the group had settled into the motel.

“We need your help.” Harris said, his tone intense but still on the safe side of angry.  Not by much, in Peter’s judgment, but enough.

“If you were listening, you just heard me say I don’t have enough people to cover both areas of responsibility.”

“Which only underscores how much we need you.”

“Steve, you need to relax a little.” BB said.

“I can’t afford to relax.” Harris replied hotly.  “I’ve got a wife who’s a week shy of eight months pregnant, and everything has gone to hell.  She’s depending on me, my baby’s depending on me, and that means I have to do whatever it takes.”

“Mr. Harris, I understand your concerns.”  Harris snorted, but Peter took it calmly and offered a firm nod.  “I do, really.  And I respect you for your determination to see your family safely through the situation we’re
all
in.  But food and water are a critical priority for everyone, including you and your wife.”

“So what’s your plan?  For us to just squat here and hope for the best?”

“No, but without some supplies any other plan won’t work.”

“We should be loading up and looking for a hospital.”

“Steve, you know what happened to the hospitals.” BB said a little tiredly.

“What, all of them?  That’s crap and you know it.  There’s got to be at least one left somewhere that can help.”

“And how are we supposed to find it?” Peter asked, still marshaling his years of experience to keep his voice even.  He really
did
appreciate Steve Harris’ concerns, which meant he understood the pressure the soon-to-be father was under.  One of his earliest lessons in the Corp had been how hard waiting for a situation to develop could be.  Doing something wasn’t always the right thing.  Sometimes doing nothing was best.

But it could be hard.  Very, very hard.

“I don’t know, look around maybe?”

However much Peter empathized with Harris, now he stood and faced the man.  “My people were trapped in Atlanta for over twenty-four hours, and we only barely got clear.  When we went into downtown we had two companies, and barely two squads came out.  If you need a translation, that’s over three hundred people with less than twenty surviving.”

“Obviously I’m not suggesting we go to Atlanta.” Harris replied.  “But there are hospitals and clinics in every town in the state.  We don’t even necessarily need to find one, just a doctor.”

“And what are the chances we’ll turn up a doctor out here?” Peter asked.  “Even if the phones were working, how would we go about tracking one down.”

“I’m pretty sure just sitting here isn’t going to solve the problem.”

“No, it’s not.” Peter agreed.  “But if your wife is about to go into labor anyway, then I doubt any heroic attempts we make would succeed anyway.  She’s at least a month from being due
based on what you told me, so another day to rest and get ready for what comes next isn’t going to hurt.”

Harris gazed at him steadily for several seconds, then frowned a little.  “So what comes next?”

“As we were discussing, next are supplies.  Food and water, plus whatever else we can find that could be useful.  Medical supplies are on that list, but so are a lot of other things.”

“And then?”

“Well I seriously doubt step one is going to be as simple as finding a store and just doing a little shopping.” Peter pointed out patiently.  “So I’m sort of focused on that at the moment.  But what we see while we’re handling that issue might help us shape step two better.”

Harris still looked unhappy, but he put his hands in his pockets and made his tone slightly calmer.  “Assuming supplies are obtained without even more hell breaking loose, what would you like to do then?”

Peter suppressed a urge toward frustration, reminding himself again of the pressure the civilian was under.  “I agree camping here might not be a good long-term plan.  If we get lucky we might encounter other survivors who are holding out that could take you folks in.”

“Dump us.”

“No, place you in a secure environment that offers safety.”

“Ease up Steve.” BB tried again.  “You have to admit something like that would work out pretty good.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t start holding my breath now.”

“I don’t blame you.” Peter told him.  “And I did say that would be lucky.  What I figure is probably more likely is we might be able to pick up some news about what’s happening outside the confines of this Interstate exit.  One of the things I’m hoping to get my hands on is an emergency radio, but we might be able to gather some information through word-of-mouth if we run into other survivors.  Or there might be emergency notices posted that could direct us to another refugee point, one that’s still operating.”

“I can’t think of any planned camps that are nearby.” BB said worriedly.

“My people were able to gather a little information before we bailed out of Atlanta.  If nothing else breaks our way, we have a list of FEMA sites in the region that we could start checking.  But with fifty people to move it won’t be a quick process.  Some of them are on the other side of Atlanta, which would mean a lot of traveling to get to them, even if we decided to leave for Griffin or Newnan right now.  You might have noticed conditions are pretty hazardous.”

Harris’ forehead wrinkled in thought for a moment, then he frowned.  “Griffin or Newnan?  Those are metro suburbs.”

“Yes.”

The man’s frown deepened.  “Those don’t sound like good choices to me.”

“I’d agree, but they’re on the list if we exhaust all other possibilities.”

“You’d head clear around to the other side of Atlanta with everything that’s going on?”

“If that’s what it takes.” Peter let his voice become firm, with a hint of his growing frustration creeping in at last.  “If you’re looking to me to decide, then I’ll tell you they’re on the list if we get down to them.”

“I’m looking to you for help.”

“And that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Meeting in here with Burns in secret?”

Peter decided he’d had enough.  “You need to settle down some sir.”

“I—” Harris began, but Peter cut him off.

“I know all about your situation.  Planning has to start somewhere, and this is where I am at the moment.  I can’t hold a little committee meeting of everyone anytime something has to be decided.  You might not like the answers I have for you right now, but as I’ve explained there’s a lot we don’t know, and need to find out, before we can have a chance to make a serious attempt at a realistic plan.”

Harris was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly.  “Alright.  I understand.”

“Good.” Peter told him.  “So, for the moment, you should tend to your wife and do what you can to keep her and yourself calm and comfortable.”

“I need to know what’s going on.”

“We all do.  If you’re prepared to listen, then I’ve got a sketch of a proposal that’ll take care of step one.”

Harris nodded again.  “Okay, let’s hear it.”