Tainted Reality (The Rememdium Series Book 2) (2 page)

Another member who was quite vocal with his opinions was Cary Woodson. His end of the world scenario revolved around some nutso dictator sitting in his office, pushing the button and detonating a nuclear bomb. In the last few years, Cary also voiced concerns over the likelihood of some terrorist group bringing in, or even manufacturing, a dirty bomb on American soil. Yet another member feared invasive species taking over.

Walt let out a quiet chuckle at the memory of Ronald Hope standing in front of the group with a PowerPoint presentation of the dangers of kudzu overtaking everything with their clingy vines. Ronald believed the plant would choke out the ground, thus ending the ability for farmers to grow food to feed an ever-growing society.

Though some reasons seemed almost comical, all the members of the prepper group agreed the world wouldn’t survive another fifty years. Most of them were Walt’s age, and there was an unspoken, common understanding the end probably wouldn’t happen during their lifetimes. However, for the sake of their families and future generations, they all needed to be prepared.

Walt had always leaned toward a biological attack. He’d seen up close and personal the effects of chemical weapons on not only soldiers, but innocent civilians. Any madman with money could acquire access to dangerous, volatile chemicals. A man with power and connections could hire—or force—scientists to create new strains, new forms, new atrocities to destroy flesh with simply by dangling money.

Yet none of their training, none of the off-the-wall scenarios came close to preparing them for what was actually happening. The thought of people turning into walking corpses feasting on the flesh of others was too preposterous and laughable to even contemplate.

And yet that was exactly what they were dealing with—horror movie shit.

‘Fucking government. I guarantee you they did this. In their quest to conquer the entire world, they unleashed something deadly into the populace.”

Walt pushed the insanity aside and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. There simply wasn’t time, and he certainly wasn’t the person, to figure out how the hell dead bodies reanimated.

The plan to storm the school was beyond risky, and since he was alone with his thoughts, let his true feelings emerge. No matter the moral reasons behind the crazy quest, the group was heading straight into a death trap. Walt was a good bullshitter and could make it past the freaked out grunts with minimal effort. However, the infamous Lt. Pack—and others like him still inside the school—wouldn’t be so easy to manipulate. The best course of action would be to take Lt. Pack out of the picture.

The thought made his head spin. As the school parking lot came into view, Walt slammed his fist against the dashboard. “Dammit, Turner! All over a piece of ass! We should be arriving at the cave, or be close, by now!”

Releasing a bit of anger helped calm Walt’s nerves. In seconds, he pulled into the parking lot of Malvern High School. The place was packed and not one space available. Cars, trucks and SUVs littered the blacktop, some even parked along the small berm separating the school from the street. He zigzagged through the silent vehicles until he reached the back area where the teachers and staff normally parked. There were more Humvees crammed in the spaces than when they fled from the area earlier.

Numerous dead bodies littered the blacktop from the previous skirmish. Walt looked away, refusing to let the horror of the situation take control of his mind.

Swinging around so he would be facing the exit, Walt shut the engine down and waited for the remainder of the group to pull up and park in the exact same manner. Deputies Bailey and Allsop were the final stragglers. Walt took a deep breath and said a silent prayer for God to watch over them as he exited the Humvee.

Without having to ask, he watched Lamar walk over to the window and peer inside, scouring the interior. Walt waited until everyone else gathered round to speak. “Allsop and Bailey—since you two are still in uniform and locals will recognize you, stay stationed by the back door. Once we get groups outside, they won’t hesitate to follow a friendly face. Keep your engines runnin’, and leave together once full up.”

“Gotcha,” both men replied in unison.

“The first item on the agenda is findin’ Lt. Pack and anyone else ranked sergeant or above. Let me do the talkin’. I’ll convince them an urgent message from the governor arrived and to follow us. We’ll bring them out back and secure them and then start evacuatin’ the civilians.”

“This ain’t gonna work, Dad! What if—”

“No time for what ifs, Turner. Your dad’s right: we have to do this now. Time is wastin'. We walk in with a purpose and don’t veer from it. All of those people trapped inside are dependin' on us to get them to safety, they just don't know it yet,” Reed interjected.

“What happens if we come across someone who’s sick?” Martha asked.

“Bypass them for now. Let’s get the healthy out first,” Walt answered.

Lamar appeared with a smile on his face. “Don’t worry, y’all. This is gonna be a piece of cake. There’s only twenty-five grunts inside, two sergeants, and only one dirty lieutenant.”

Walt grinned. “What’s their position?”

“One is stationed by the main door, and the lieutenant and other sergeant are huddled together in the kitchen lookin’ at maps. Both look scared outta their granny panties.”

Walt chuckled. “Guess there ain’t no need for my little story to lure them out with then. Easy pickin’s.”

“How many people inside, Lamar?” Reed asked. “Any look sick?”

“Didn’t see any that looked sick, but kinda hard to tell without a closer look. But, here’s the other easy part. Maybe two hundred, but they’re all gathered together near the kitchen doors. There’s a slew of dead bodies close to the front entrance. Seems they’re steerin’ clear of them.”

“Jesus, how in the world will we get everyone out in time? And what about everyone else who ain’t here? How we gonna warn them what’s goin’ on?” Turner asked.

“One crisis at a time, son. Okay, here’s the plan: Martha, you and Turner come with me and we’ll get Lt. Pack and his cohort. Lamar, you and Reed fetch the other fool. Deputy Bailey, you and Allsop got your cuffs with you?”

“Yes, but we each only have one set,” Deputy Bailey replied.

“Then I guess one of them will just need to take a nap,” Walt said, patting the butt of his rifle. “After we secure the trio, we’ll round up the remainin’ grunts and then we’ll get our friends and neighbors to safety. Got it?”

The rest of the group nodded in agreement.

With Walt and Martha on point, the group made their way across the blacktop to the back door, guns at the ready and hearts pounding with dread.

Once they reached the back door, Walt glanced at Martha. He could see the fear in her eyes, along with determination. Her blue eyes shimmered in the bright sunlight. He winked and motioned with his head for her to move behind him.

Yanking the door open, Walt burst into the kitchen, gun pointed at the head of the lieutenant. Martha and Turner split off and flanked right, their own weapons trained on the sergeant. “Hands up and mouths shut, or my face is the last one you’ll ever see,” Walt growled.

The two men froze. Lt. Pack stood next to the seated sergeant, his hulking frame crammed inside an ill-fitting uniform stained with blood. Two rifles sat on the counter out of reach, a Beretta M9 rested snugly on both of their hips.

Sizing his quarry up, Walt guessed the lieutenant at around 6’2”. With the solid build of a linebacker, a harsh face with a square jawline and dark brown, unreadable eyes, Lt. Pack was a formidable opponent. Maybe forty, judging by the deep lines on his forehead and around his orbital bones. From his periphery, he could see the sergeant was smaller yet lean. Maybe thirty, tops.

Walt saw Reed and Lamar to his right. They moved past them and stood at the entryway to the cafeteria. Walt gave a slight nod and the two disappeared through the doors.

The lieutenant’s gaze never left Walt’s. With slow, calculated movements, Lt. Pack raised his arms in compliance with the order. The sergeant next to him was young, scared, and stupid. Like a fool, he reached for his weapon. His arm moved less than two inches before Martha rammed the butt of her rifle into his wimpy face, knocking the bastard off of his perch.

“That wasn’t necessary. He was just doing his—”

“Shut up, lieutenant. I ain’t got no time for givin’ orders twice. Here’s a new set: help your buddy to his feet and let’s take this out back. No tricks or sudden movements or we will shoot. Got it?”

The hatred behind the soldier’s eyes was almost palpable. Walt couldn’t help himself and let out a wide grin. After the smack down of the sergeant, Martha and Turner backed up and moved to the door, opening it wide. The lieutenant finished giving Walt the evil eye, bent down, and yanked the other man to his feet. In seconds, they were back out in the bright daylight.

Allsop and Bailey were ready. They came up behind the men and cuffed them.

“Local militia. I knew it. Been begging for years for the higher-ups to wipe you all out. Now, when the world crashes around us, all you bastards swoop in and try to take control when you have no idea what’s really going on!”

Walt’s right arm shot out and connected with the bulbous nose of the lieutenant. The force of the punch knocked the big man to his knees. “That’s for not keepin’ your hole shut and for givin’ the order to kill innocent people. Fuckin’ pussy! You’re supposed to be helpin’ your fellow man, not killin’ them!”

“That’s enough! We don’t have time to see who has the bigger dick between the two of you,” Martha said. “Lt. Pack, are you still in communication with HQ?”

Lt. Pack spit out a mouthful of blood in Walt’s direction. The heavy dollop landed next to his boot. “Like I’m really going to answer that honestly.”

To Walt’s surprise, Martha stuck the tip of the rifle to the lieutenant’s temple. “There’s a bullet in here with your name on it. If you want it to remain in the barrel and not rip through your head, you’ll comply.”

“Fuck you,” Lt. Pack grumbled.

Walt saw anger flash in Martha’s vibrant blue eyes. The electrical current in the air shifted and he knew Martha was about to make good on her word. “Hold up there, honey. Geez, you’re just as antsy as Chief Parker. Let’s see what happens with this,” Walt said. He snatched the radio from Lt. Pack’s waist.

Before Walt had a chance to test his theory out, Lamar and Reed joined them. In front of them stood a soldier who looked like he was about to piss himself or faint. Walt made a mental bet that a wet stain would appear on the front of his fatigues right before he passed out.

“Let’s get you tied up real nice so you can join your fellow killers,” Lamar said. From his side pocket, he extracted a short length of nylon rope. In a flash, the third hostage was bound.

“What’s your call sign, boy?” Walt asked the soldier Martha clocked earlier.

A pair of defiant green eyes already beginning to swell from the impact of the rifle stared up at Martha. For emphasis, she raised her weapon butt first above her head. “I’ll give you to three, and I’ve already ticked off one and two,” Martha urged.

“Don’t you say a word!” Lt. Pack yelled.

Shifting his gaze between the lieutenant and Martha, the boy’s defiance dimmed, replaced by dejection. “Contain 2 Actual. Won’t do you a bit of good, though. Ain’t nobody answerin’ on the other end. Been silent for the past ten minutes.”

Walt ignored him and pressed the button. “Contain 2 Actual to base.”

The sounds of static filled the back parking lot. Walt tried three more times, each with the same results.

“I told you. We’re on our own,” the sergeant muttered.

“Then there ain’t nobody to miss you,” Walt said. He glanced around and noticed a small area to his right used to store garbage. It was surrounded by a ten-foot chain link fence to keep foraging animals out. The only way in or out was from a door off of the kitchen. Motioning toward the area, Walt addressed the group. “Let’s get them secured in there and get to work. Got a lot of people to rescue.”

“We can help you know,” Lt. Pack said.

“Pft! You’ve been so helpful already,” Martha grumbled.

“I’m serious. You don’t really think we were going to just kill those poor people and leave, do you?”

Turner stepped forward, the barrel of his rifle inches from Lt. Pack’s head. “Right up until the end government puppets still lie! Move!”

Walt grinned, proud of his boy for finally seeing the light, yet saddened it took him so long.

ADVENTURES AT WALMART - Saturday - December 20
^th
– 10:25 a.m.

Regina Parker was shaking by the time she pulled into the parking lot. Squinting through the bloodied windshield, she silently cursed the fools who’d prepped the Humvee. The first dead corpse she hit after leaving the jail left brain matter and other chunks of gore stuck to the glass. Someone neglected to check the windshield washer fluid levels.

Then again, who had time to address such a minute task when people were turning into undead cannibals?