Run (Book 2): The Crossing (17 page)

26

The Rock Steadys took the news hard, but Calvin wasn’t the first person they had lost, nor would he probably be the last. The doctor had given him an overdose of his concoction, enough morphine alone to kill three men, he had said, and when their friend had stopped breathing, Doc used his drill again.

Teems, six foot three and two hundred seventy pounds of Harley Davidson-riding Biker, cried like a baby. They buried Calvin, Private Hobbs, and Mitch, the young man who had been scratched that evening, under the cover of snipers and the Bradley. The zombies left them alone while the humans completed their cheerless task.

When they were finished, Bourne called the SEALs, Rick, and Teems to a meeting in one of the second floor offices.

“The folks in Boston are running out of time. They have maybe two weeks of supplies left, and then they start getting hungry, and that will make them sloppy. We should be able to make decent time in your LAV but it will be extremely crowded. We will have to appropriate transportation for the extra muscle I’m bringing along the way.”

Androwski looked confused. “Muscle?”

“Yes, in addition to your SEAL team, I will be taking ten of my men with me. The rest will stay here and defend this place against the undead and, once they figure out where you are, the Triumvirate too. We blew the Blackhawk when we left the checkpoint, as I have no doubt that Brooks put some type of locator on it, but that was only a few miles from here. Eventually they’ll see this facility and come knocking.”

“How are these people supposed to fight off those soldiers?” Rick asked. “They’re all civilians!”

“As I said, I’m only bringing ten of my boys with me. Barry will stay behind as he’s the only one qualified to drive the Abrams. He and some of the other members of my team will train your civilians in the proper use of firearms and munitions, tactics, and stealth. The civvies will also be trained on how to use the armor, both the tank and the Bradley. Trust me, loading a Bradley is not a five minute operation.” Bourne looked at the biker. “Teems, you always have the silo to fall back into should things get out of control up here. Barry can more than fortify what you have below such that a nuclear warhead would be needed to gain access.”

“The kids do think that place is cool.”

“So do I. The fact that it’s a nuclear launch facility notwithstanding, you have an underground fortress with multiple egress points, food and water for years, and probably weapons once you get all those doors open. That boy Chris might just be able to get sat signals with those archaic computers as well, assuming the satellite orbit hasn’t degraded too much.”

“Chris is going to want to come with us,” Rick said.

“Absolutely out of the question. Your civilian team, with the exception of yourself, will need to remain onsite here while we carry out the mission.”

“Due respect, Colonel,” began Androwski, “we were given orders by my CO to both keep Rick and his team safe. All the way to Boston and back. Following your orders would compromise my CO’s, and I’m not willing to do that. Not to mention, telling Dallas he can’t come could get…unpleasant.”

In the end, the colonel acquiesced to bringing Dallas and Anna along with Rick, but Chris elected to stay behind. Androwski and his SEALS couldn’t make Chris come with them, so they were relieved of responsibility as far as he was concerned. The kid hadn’t come up from the silo since he first went down there, and he had already figured out how to power down some of the electronic door locks.

There were six of Rick’s original team, plus four others including the colonel, in the LAV. Eight others would also be coming, four each in a black Dodge Ram pickup and a Humvee. The second Humvee would remain behind as additional light-armored transport.

Dallas was on his feet and demanding to go in his most belligerent tone before anyone told him he was already slotted to go. “Concussion my ass, I’m fit as a goddam fiddle.” He looked at the doctor and smiled. “Damn quacks dunno what they’re talkin’ ‘bout anyway.”

Good-byes were said, and Anna actually kissed Chris on the cheek when he came up from the silo. Stunned, he put his hand to his cheek and remained silent. “Well don’t get all emotional on me, you big sissy,” she said, “and don’t go getting eaten.”

“I would like to see you again,” he answered and smiled a wan smile, “so if you could please not die, I might let you kiss me again.”

She raised her eyebrows, “Let me? Huh. We’ll see when I get back.”

She left him blinking, and moved off with the soldiers. Rick and Dallas came up next, and Rick grabbed his hand, as Dallas put his hand on the young man’s shoulder, “Been through a lot with you boy, gonna miss your sorry ass.”

“What our red-necked hillbilly is trying to say is that he’s going to worry about you.”

“About him? Ha! He should be worryin’ bout us! Take care of yourself, kid.”

“You too, big guy.” Chris leaned forward and embraced the Texan. Surprised, the man hugged back and then pushed hastily away. He thumbed at Anna. “Thought you liked
girls
.”

Rick shook Chris’s hand again. “I must admit, I’m glad one of you has the sense to remain in a safe spot.”

“Sense?” Dallas asked in mock rage. “Sense! If
you
had any sense you’d stay here with the kid. Can’t shoot worth a damn anyway, prolly shoot me for we git out that damn LAV,” he muttered as he strode off.

Chris got serious. “Rick, don’t take any dumb chances, you’ve got Sam to think about.”

“Dumb? Me?”

“Yeah, you. Remember to save your own ass when you’re saving everybody else’s.”

“Will do. You and I have been together since the beginning, stay safe.”

Chris hugged Rick as well. “Always.” He looked over Rick’s shoulder. “And if you wouldn’t mind bringing her back, I would be happy with that.”

“She’s feisty, I’ll do what I can. Take care of these folks, they’re good people.”

Rick looked around the depot once more then joined his team inside the LAV. Teems poked his head inside when he was done shaking hands with Dallas and Seyfert. “Watch them rotters,” he said to the crew, “they bite! See ya, hillbilly!”

“You sure will, psycho! Back before you can say Harley Davidson!”

The cheerful expression on Teems’ face dropped away as the hatch closed on the LAV. “Harley Davidson,” he said to himself and moved to the side.

27

A small fire crackled in the waning light of the Iowa sun. A group of nine sat around the fire on the road, or broken debris from it as they spoke back and forth. Several others kept watch from atop the LAV or in the bed of a Dodge pickup. The back hatch of the armored vehicle was open, and Anna strode out of it, using a fingernail to pick her teeth. “Nobody thought to bring any floss?”

The fire they were sitting around was a cook fire. An empty cardboard case of MREs sat nearby, it served as a trash can for the discarded plastic packages associated with the military rations. Each Meal Ready to Eat had its own flameless ration heater, essentially a water activated, environmentally safe, plastic bag. Heating the beef stew and chunk-chicken dinners was always better over a fire though, and the team was in the middle of nowhere on a barren, partially destroyed road, so the colonel called a halt to heat the food and stretch everyone’s legs.

“Seriously, nobody? This damn chicken is stuck in my teeth.”

“Use your toothbrush,” the colonel said and went back to his map.

“Tried that,” Anna replied to herself and made sucking noises as she continued the attempt to remove the lodged poultry.

Bourne rubbed his jaw as he traced his finger on a Rand McNally road atlas. “Better than six hours and no Triumvirate. I thought for sure they would have this road watched.”

Androwski pointed at the atlas too. “We’re more than a hundred miles north of I-80, did they have patrols out this far?”

“Patrols? Probably not anymore, the Warthogs and birds were fuel eaters, and both fuel and maintenance techs are hard to come by, not to mention pilots and the constant threat of undead roamers at the airfield. Checkpoints though, those I can envision this far north.”

“Do ya think they’ll look for ya?” asked Dallas.

“I’m sure of it. The average guy would see the downed helicopter back at that checkpoint and assume we crashed. There were hundreds of undead a few miles from that position too, so hopefully they came to investigate and at least wandered through. Best case scenario, the dead decided to hang around, and the Triumvirate stooges sent to check will assume the area was overrun. Brooks isn’t the average guy, though. He will want to see the destruction for himself, regardless of undead infestation, and when he does, he will understand immediately that it was a tank shell that took out the copter.” Bourne smiled. “Then he’s going to get pissed and shoot somebody. Hopefully it’s one of his guys. Make no mistake though, he’ll come looking.”

“With any luck, they’ll miss the depot and not come this far north or east,” Rick thought out loud.

“Sir,” one of the lookouts said from the back of the Dodge. “Sir, there’s a vehicle inbound from the west. Make that two.”

Bourne was all business after that. “Rick, Dallas, and Anna back in the LAV, Stark, you’re driving, button up. I want snipers on the LAV, and get the truck on the other side of the armor. Weapons hot, people, safeties off! Androwski and Seyfert, remove your suppressors. If they fire on us, return fire immediately, focus on the vehicle drivers and any heavy weapons first. If they are Triumvirate, I would rather they not know I’m here, but you guys will stick out like sore thumbs. I will man the Bushmaster. Fire at will if they get hostile!”

“Radio check!” yelled Androwski. Several
check-checks
and
five by fives
came over everyone’s radio, as folks scrambled to follow orders. The Dodge was moved in front of a now sideways LAV, and the Humvee was pulled off to the side of the broken road.

The vehicles had been coming at high speed, but they seemed to slow, then stopped about a quarter of a mile away. The soldier who had spied the vehicles coming shouted through the radio, “Sir! Two just jumped and headed into the brush. I have scope glare! Snipers, repeat snipers!” Everybody got down behind something, and the turret on the now closed up LAV swiveled toward the road.

“Biggs, Keleher, do you have the snipers?”

“Roger that, sir, these rifles are unbelievable! Kelly, I got left.”

The soldier standing to the right of the LAV with one of the THOR sniper rifles swiveled his bipod and braced against the hull of the vehicle, adjusting his aim. “Copy. Right is mine. Five by five.”

“Take them on Androwski’s signal or if any hostile opens fire, then pick targets at will.”

“Signal is
copasetic,
” Androwski said. “Repeat, fire on copasetic.”

“Roger that.”

Two more military Humvees came speeding up the road and stopped thirty meters short of the small convoy. “Shit,” somebody said over the radio as men in black BDUs got out of the lead truck.

Androwski and Seyfert moved forward as two of the newcomers walked toward them. The SEALs pulled their black face covers down as they approached. Both of the men in black were armed, and although their rifles were pointed toward the ground, they looked anxious.

“That’s far enough,” Androwski said when five meters of pockmarked and burned asphalt separated the two groups. “What do you want?”

The man that had gotten out of the passenger’s seat was unshaven and unkempt, and he spoke first. “Interesting way to meet new people. What’s with all the hostility? We’re here to help.”

“How exactly do you intend to help us?”

The man smiled, showing a gap where his left front tooth used to be, “Relocation!” he said as if it were a saving grace. “We’re here to help you to Lincoln, Nebraska, where there’s food, shelter, and a military presence to guard the people against the Fallen.”

“Not interested. And if you’re military, I’m Bugs Bunny.”

Unfazed, the Triumvirate man tried anew, “As I said, we have a strong military presence with armor and aircraft support. If you would please follow us, we can take you straight there. Of course, you will have to surrender your weapons and that tank to us immediately. Security, you understand.”

Seyfert snorted. “I believe the man said we were fine. We’re headed north, and don’t need your protection. Thanks all the same.”

The man’s smile disappeared. “I’m sorry, I really am, but you are travelling in US military vehicles, and those have all been recalled to Lincoln, as have all military personnel and any civilians in the area. You and your companions will need to come with us.”

Two  more men got out of the first desert camo Humvee, and another popped through the hatch at the fifty caliber M2 machine gun on the second, although he didn’t cock it. All the newcomers now had their fingers on the triggers of their assorted weapons, even though they were still pointed at the ground.

“My friend told you we’re heading north, not south west. Thanks for the offer, but we’re on our way to a military base in northern Iowa.”

“Iowa?” the driver said and cocked his head. “What’s in Iowa?”

“That’s classified.”

“Is it now? I believe you have mistaken our intentions. It wasn’t an offer, but a demand that you come with us. This is your last chance to comply.”

Seyfert shook his head and smiled. “Look, Chief, we’re not coming, and quite frankly you’re out gunned and out trained. We don’t want to shoot you or get shot at, so this is
your
last chance. Fuck. Off.”

The driver narrowed his eyes. “We have an attack chopper two miles out, if we—” He was interrupted by one of Bourne’s men who walked around the LAV holding a green tube with what looked like a blast shield on the side of it. “What’s that?”

“If you were actually military,” Androwski said, “you would know that is a Stinger missile. Anti-air. We have six more, and if you look at the LAV behind me you will see tubes on the side. Those are also anti-air missiles. You’re full of shit on the helicopter anyway, but tell your bird if he comes within
three
miles of us in the air, we’ll shoot him down. Also, if you don’t leave in the next thirty seconds, we’ll fucking kill you all.” At this, both he and Seyfert raised their MP5SD3s and pointed them at the driver and passenger.

The Triumvirate men began to raise their weapons, but Seyfert screamed, “Don’t!” and they stopped. The driver’s eyes were wide, but there was a smirk on the passenger’s face.

“Something funny?” demanded Seyfert.

“Yeah, you’re being covered by—”

“Two snipers three hundred meters back?” finished Androwski. “I guess we’re not
copasetic
.”

Two pops sounded, and then more weapons were pointed at the Triumvirate men.

“Your snipers are down. Twenty seconds, nineteen, eighteen…”

The passenger nodded, obviously angry. “Good luck on your trip up north.” He turned. “Saddle up, let them go!” His men got back in the Humvees and they turned their vehicles around. Dust and broken asphalt spewed from their tires as they began speeding back the way they had come.

Seyfert looked back at the LAV then at Androwski. “You told him the snorkels were missiles?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think he would know the difference.”

“Pity we don’t have any Stingers,” Bourne said thoughtfully as the LAV thundered down the road. He smiled and looked at Androwski. “Great bluff by the way, but they have probably already radioed our position to Lincoln, and I’m sure they’re dispatching help as we speak.”

“Then we best haul ass, sir,” Stark yelled over his shoulder from up front. The convoy of three vehicles picked up speed and they ate up the miles as they travelled due east through the Iowa flatlands.

“The Stinger we have is functional, sir,” Seyfert replied, “but we only have one shot, and flares or ECM from the bird may counter it. Then they can stay a half mile up and take us apart with their guns or rockets.”

“With any luck they’ll be chasing us north. Where are we anyway?”

Anna looked at one of the screens in the LAV, then back at a map. “This is Route 18, we just passed the turnoff for Route 69 south, which puts us about…ten miles west of a town called Clear Lake.”

The colonel was smiling at her. “Maybe it’s a good thing we did take you along. Who taught you how to read a map?”

“Taught me? You just look at it.”

His smile widened. “I guess you do at that. It’s getting late, and we should pick up fuel at a truck stop, or one of these smaller towns.” He picked up his radio. “All units, we need fuel, so keep your eyes open for stations, or farms with pumps.”

Twenty minutes later, the LAV pulled up to a white sign on the side of the road, the Humvee and truck behind. The sign had originally read Welcome to Clear Lake, Population 786. The 786 was crossed off with a red slash, and the number 522 was below it, also crossed off in red. Several other numbers were below or to the right and left of the original, all crossed off. The numbers dwindled down to 51, and then ALL DEAD was scrawled in the right corner. A truly dead man with a pistol in his lifeless hand was crumpled under the sign.

There was no gas station in sight, not that anyone could see farther than was illuminated by the headlights of the LAV. The town was dark, and as the sign indicated, dead.

“Our pickup is vulnerable,” began Bourne, “so you boys need to stay on your toes. We’ll proceed through town in the LAV, and check for a pump station and assess the hostiles. Don’t get complacent, and keep checking your six. Maintain radio contact at all times, and engage undead only if they pose a direct threat. Deal with human threats appropriately, but don’t get trigger happy, anybody left alive in this town is probably starving and scared.” They transferred twelve fuel cans from the back of the truck to the armored vehicle.

As the LAV moved away, a soldier got out of the Hummer with a high-powered light and flashed it in all directions. A lone undead was slowly making its way toward them from the south. The man got back in the vehicle and pointed right. “We got one coming from over there, keep an eye on it, and we’ll take it out with a suppressed weapon or an entrenching tool when it gets close.”

The light was extremely bright and, according to the manual, illuminated up to a hundred yards, so the soldier had been able to see the zombie, and the zombie had seen the light. Some of the other hundred or so zombies that were approximately one hundred and thirty yards away had also seen the light and heard the vehicle engines. Like a flock of birds, their direction changed from south to north, and now they plodded toward the unaware men.

Clear Lake may have been picturesque once, with its pretty store fronts all facing the main road and its single traffic light suspended over the thoroughfare. Now there was trash in the streets, burned stores and crashed vehicles. Festering corpses with holes in their heads, unattended and left to rot, lay here and there as well. Newspapers blew across the headlight beams like tumbleweeds through the darkness.

A military presence had been in this small town as well. An abandoned deuce and a half transport truck, the torn canvas top blowing in the wind, had come to rest halfway through the front window of a barbershop. The driver’s door on the truck was still open.

It didn’t take long for the townsfolk to come out to greet the newcomers. Several shapes materialized out of the shadows, and made for the LAV on dead legs.

“How many?” Bourne asked Anna.