Stopping the Dead (9 page)

Corey

“How long do you think?  Ten, maybe fifteen minutes?” Brian asked him.

Corey nodded.  “Yeah, figure on fifteen.”  He leaned closer to the screen.  “We’re definitely going to need to make a dry run on this, make sure that we have all of the shit down.  Too many of those fuckers keep drifting in and out.”

The two brothers stood at the island, looking at the cameras that had been moved to focus on the rail yard.

“I’m just worried about that fucker not starting,” Corey said, jabbing a finger at the rig already hooked up to an old moving trailer.

“Well,” Brian sighed, “like you said, we need a dry run.”

“What are you thinking?”

“We could put you on the .50,” Brian said, “mounted up on Lee’s humvee.  I don’t think that we’re going to want to use Ma Deuce on those fucking undead pricks, but we do have to worry about the DEAD or whatever the fuck they are.”

Corey nodded.

“When we get there, I can start fueling up the rig, if it needs it, with you, Adam, and Ernst as a perimeter defense.  Use the spears, keep the A4s in reserve.”

“Once you get it started you’ll haul the first one into place?” Corey asked.

“Yeah,” Brian said, “how’s that sound so far?”

“Good.  Real
ly
good, actually.  Figure after that, Ernst can ride shotgun with you, and I can cover Adam as he fuels and starts up the loader.  With that running I can provide security for
him while we move to the first spot.  Hell, we’ll even be able to park both of the rigs inside the fence if we wanted to afterwards.”

“Yeah,” Brian laughed, “we could.”

“Michael would have a blast with that.”

Brian nodded.  “Pretty sure Emily would let Susan check them out, too.”

The two brothers straightened up as one, Corey stretching.

“How are you doing?” Brian asked suddenly.

Corey frowned.  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“About Kiki, you haven’t mentioned her in almost a month.”

Corey shrugged.  “I don’t know, Bri, wh
at the fuck am I supposed to do?
  Cell service never came back, plus the internet is still down.  I worry about her.  I worry even more that one of these days we’re going to be taking our morning stroll around the fence to clean off the dead and I’m going to have to drive a spear through her fucking head
.  I guess that’s my biggest worry right now.  But that’s nothing, I mean, what the fuck, Adam’s kids are in the Keys, but we don’t even know if that’s a safe place, or if it got infected or what.  Plus Emily saw her fucking husband try and eat her and the kids.”  He shook his head.  “No, it sucks not knowing about her, but there’s worse that it could be, too.”

“True,” Brian said.  “Bitch.”

“Oh fuck you!” Corey laughed, and punched his brother in the arm.

Laughing the two of them headed out to find Ernst to speak with him about their plan.

Lee

Lee stood in the doorway to Ernst’s bedroom and watched him sitting in his chair, eyes closed, smoking his pipe steadily.  The prayer beads moved through his hands with a slow rhythm, and once more she realized how much she’d grown to enjoy his company.

She waited until his hands hit the cross at the end of the beads and knew that he had finished his prayers before stepping into the room.

Suddenly she smiled, walked over to him and pulled the pipe out of his mouth. 

He opened his eyes in surprise, smoke spilling over his lips quickly.

Lee sat down on his lap and gave him a long, deep kiss, tasting the cherry of his tobacco, smelling it as she locked her fingers into his hair.

Ernst neither struggled nor resisted, but instead he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer, hands moving up her back.

After a moment she broke off the kiss, but held on to him.

“Well,” he said, blushing, “a very good morning to you.”

She snickered and settled in on his lap, pulling at his hair gently.  “And a very good morning to you.  I figured that I had to do it, because you never would.”

His blush deepened.  “You’re probably one hundred percent correct on that one, Lee.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So,” he said, clearing his throat, hands moving constantly along her back, “do you want to go out on a date?”

Lee laughed and kissed him again, longer and deeper than the first, leaving him panting a little as she stopped.  “I don’t know where we could go for a date around here,” she said after a minute, “but yeah, I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

Lee thought for a moment before saying, “We could go to the machine shop.  That’s pretty damned romantic.”

“Why yes, my dear engineer,” he laughed, “a machine shop is the epitome of romantic.”

She punched him playfully in the shoulder and leaned close, whispering in his ear, “You have absolutely no idea of how romantic a machine shop can be…with the right person.”

“So,” Ernst said, clearing his throat, “do you want to go to the machine shop, stop by the storeroom for a
tasty picnic to bring with us?”

“You.” she said.

“Me?”

She smiled, whispering,
“You’re the only thing I want to eat in the machine shop.”

Adam

Adam looked at the picture of his kids, the edges starting to roll, and sighed as he put it away in his wallet.  Standing up he slipped the wallet into the drawer of his bed table, made sure that his bunk was made and took his A4 off
of
its rack, and a pair of doubled clips off of the top bunk.

Adam checked his weapon as he walked, and in a few minutes he stood beside
Ernst at the island, the ever present laptop giving off a faint light in the dimness of the kitchen area.

“Hey,” Ernst said, glancing up.  “How are you?”

“Beat.  Some days are really tough.”  He sat down beside Ernst.  “How are you?”

“Good,” then Ernst smiled.  “Really good.”

“You and Lee?”

Ernst looked at him and Adam laughed.  “Ernst, I think even little Susan knew that Lee likes you.  Lee made the first move, I assume?”

“You assume correctly,” Ernst smiled, glancing back at the computer.  Nearly thirty cameras had been set up, giving them eyes on nearly every available road and entrance to the kill zone of the center warehouse.  Slowly, if the twins’ idea panned out, they’d be able to cut down
the avenues of advance, create channels…if it worked and –

“What the fuck,” Ernst said, “is that?”

Adam looked and saw a man approaching the center warehouse by way of the main road.
He carried a
9mm
with a suppressor
, and casually shot a few undead as they approached.  He wore a pressed police uniform with a jean vest over it.  Soon he stood before the gate, looked into the camera and nodded.

“I’ll go out there, if you want to go and get Terrence,” Adam said in a low voice.

“Sounds good, just don’t kill him.”

“Not yet.”

Ernst nodded, stood, and slipped away down the stairs.

Adam locked a clip into place, chambered a round, and took the safety off.  He took a deep breath and adjusted the vest under his sweatshirt, and walked to the front door.  He made sure that it closed behind him as he stepped out into the early morning air, his breath steaming, frost on the ground and the humvee.

The newcomer stood at the gate, weapon in hand, a grin on his face.

“Got fuel for that hummer?” he asked as Adam drew near.

“We do.”

“Fuel’s in short supply.”

“Figured as much.”

“You’re the one who’s been killing my boys,” the man said.

“You’re the asshole who’s been sending me boys to kill,” Adam said.

The man laughed.  “You’re a hard ass, huh?  Good.  Nobody likes a pussy.
  My name’s John Parker.  Used to be the Captain of the Hudson Police Department, but that went to shit a few months ago.”

“Now you’ve got a bunch of cunts wearing colors.”

Parker gave Adam a tight smile.  “Funny thing about gangs, police departments, motorcycle clubs, they’ve all got this basic hierarchy.  There’s only one big dog, and everybody listens to him.”

“And that’s who you are.”

“Damned if I’m not,” Parker grinned.

Behind Adam the door opened
, and he heard Terrence chamber a round into his M1
.

“Looks like a bookworm, a black man, and a Chinese
.  Nice spear she’s got, by the way
,” Parker said, nodding.  “You’ve got quite the little multi-cultural survival group going on, don’t you?”

“We get by.”

“So we’ve seen.  Been tryin’ to get a read on your little group here, see if there’s anything that we want, and we figure that you’ve got to have more than just the hummer.  You all look well fed, no signs of malnutrition.  And those weapons you all carry,” Parker shook his head, “you have no idea what those would get you outside of this little warehouse area.”

“Point?”

“I do like you.  I like what you may or may not have, and, hell, I don’t want to fight.  I lost ten men over the past three months.”  Parker glanced up at the skeletal heads on the gate.  “They mine?”

“If they were the first three they are.  Fuckers killed my dogs.”

“Well, sorry about that,” Parker said.  “But that’s the way the cookie crumbles.”

Adam nodded.  “Don’t know about number ten, but I did for the other nine.”

Parker stiffened a little, fingers tightening on his pistol.  “Did you now?”

“I did.  You don’t fuck with a man’s dogs.”

“How about his friends?” Parker asked, and nodded to Adam’s right.

A shot rang out and Ernst yelled out, “Terrence!”

And Emily was running past Adam, spear at the ready, Parker laughing at her as he brought his pistol up –

Emily moved, twisting slightly, the bullet missing her and hissing past Adam.  Parker’s laughter stopped, his finger tightening on the trigger again, but Emily was in front of him, thrusting forward with the spear
.  The polished and honed aluminum passed through the bars of the gate, and slid into Parker’s neck.  The point exploded out of the back of the skull, blood spraying.

Emily snarled at Parker in Chinese, twisted the spear and pulled, slamming the man’s body into gate and nearly tearing his head off of his shoulders.

Adam could hear the man gurgling in his blood for just a moment before dying.  Emily let go of the spear and stared at the body.

Another shot rang out and a pair of shots from the twins answered it, the brothers hidden in nearby warehouses.

Adam turned to face Ernst and Terrence.  The old Gunnery Sergeant
lay on his back, a hole in his right breast.  The man’s eyes were out of focus, Ernst squatting beside him.  “Shock?” Ernst asked.

“No,” Adam said, “he doesn’t look right.  Even for somebody with a fucking sucking chest wound.”

Terrence took a sudden, deep breath, and let it out in a long, ragged stream, his eyes glazing over.  His body stiffened, shook, then relaxed completely, his old M1 falling out of his hands.
  Emily came over to stand beside them. 

A few more shots rang out from the twins, and Ernst’s radio squawked.  “We’ve got him pinned down
in the old water tower at the tracks
.  He can’t move without one of us kicking paint in his face.”

“Good,” Ernst replied, “keep him like that.  I’ll fetch our little friend home in a few minutes.”

“I copy.”

Terrence’s body started to twitch, his mouth opened and a low moan escaped, his arms reaching out as he started to sit up.

“Oh fuck me,” Ernst sighed.

“An infected bullet,” Adam snarled.  “A fucking infected bullet.”

Emily picked up the M1, and fired the round that Terrence had chambered
.

Ernst

“I’ll be back,” Ernst said. 

“Do you want help?” Adam asked.

“No,” Ernst answered.  “The twins will keep his head down.  I need you to get Lee to help you burn Terrence.  Plus you’ll need your strength when I bring our friend in for questioning.”

“I understand,” Adam said, “good luck.”

“Thanks.”  Ernst keyed the handheld.  “Hey boys, can you keep him pinned down for me?  I should be able to get to him in about fifteen minutes barring any encounters with the dead.”

“Not a problem,” Corey said.

“Yeah, we got it.  What the hell happened anyway?”

“Fuckers killed Terrence.”

The twins were quiet for a moment, then
their
curses filled the airwaves.

Ernst silently nodded his agreement, shouldered his weapon, opened the gate part way, and left.
  He moved swiftly, not even spotting any dead until he hit the rail-yard.  There a few of them stood around a boxcar where a baby doll was tied to the door, its voice wailing.

A pair of shots rang out and someone cursed on the water tower as Ernst drew closer.
  Ernst pulled his small .38 from its holster and started climbing the narrow stairs.  Another pair of shots and the person, a man, swore again, throwing a broken radio over the side.
  Drops of blood splattered down as well.

Ernst reached the top
, weapon ready, and found a young man on his side, one hand a bloody mess, a shattered rifle nearby.

“Why hello, my little friend,” Ernst said softly, “I’m glad that you’ve come out to play.”

Ernst stepped up onto the platform and the young man spat at him, sitting up.  He adjusted his vest proudly.  “You’re not
going to do shit, you – ”

Ernst jammed the barrel of the .38 into the man’s mouth, teeth breaking, the man freezing.

“No,” Ernst said, “that’s about the extent of what I’m going to do.  But I have a friend who’s going to talk to you.  And he doesn’t like you guys to begin with.  You killed his dogs.

“Now listen.  I’m going to take the barrel out of your mouth, with a few of your teeth, then, I’m going to bring you back to my house to play for a while.  And you better hope that you’re little baby doll keeps our other friends distracted.  If it doesn’t, I’m going to shoot you in the belly and go back home by myself.  Understood?”

Tears filled the young man’s eyes, and he nodded.