The Reckoning - 02 (20 page)

The cruiser/gate was creeping steadily forward, but I didn’t think they were going to close it in time to prevent the next wave from getting inside. I had to slow them down. With a deep sigh, I stepped through the gate and turned to look along the fence towards the front of the jail. I could see close to a hundred zombies coming our way, drawn by the sound of gunfire.

“Roof team,” I screamed into the radio. “Shift your targets to the north side of the building. Say again, the north side of the building!”

“Copy,” said a voice I thought was Sanders.

Seconds later, a barrage of fire erupted from the top of the jail and rained down on the crowd of zombies coming towards me. I took the opportunity to start dragging zombie bodies out of the way of the gate to make it easier for Webber and Southard to close. I was dragging my third body when I heard Spec-4’s voice break the com.

“Wylie!” she screamed. “Get down!”

I dove to the side, behind the outer edge of the gate and I immediately heard the SAW kick back into full automatic. I glanced back and saw nearly a dozen
Shamblers
that were almost on top of me. I was on my back with my shotgun trapped beneath me. I frantically pulled it free as four zombies escaped the fusillade and bore down on me. I fired point blank and blasted a hole in the chest of the nearest one. I could see light through the hole. It fell over backwards, but started trying to get up. I worked the pump on the shotgun and got ready to fire, when another weapon erupted behind me.

The zombie that was nearly on top of me suddenly was missing its head. It fell in a heap, across my legs, pinning me to the ground. Two more big booms took out the remaining two. I craned my head around to see who had just saved my life, hoping it wouldn’t be someone worse than the zombies. I saw a red Ford pick-up braking to a stop, just a few feet away. Inside it were two very familiar faces.

“Looks like the Marines had to save your Army ass,” said Gunny, leaning out the window of the truck.

“
Semper Fi
, asshole,” I called back, grinning. “Let’s get inside. We’ve got company coming. See if you can get behind the cruiser and help shut the gate!”

“On it,” yelled
Gunny.

I shoved the zombie off of my legs and got to my feet. Quickly ducking inside, the pick-up followed right behind. Instead of parking,
April turned the pick-up and lined up behind the cruiser/gate. Webber and Southard had managed to push it about half-way shut, but they were making slow progress. April tapped the horn and they both got out of her way. Slowly, she edged up to the rear bumper and nudged up against it. Then she put the truck in first gear and started letting out the clutch. Seconds later, the old pick-up was sliding the gate the rest of the way shut. The gate slid closed with a resounding boom.

Once the gate was secure, we quickly split up and took out any surviving zombies inside the fence. There weren’t many, just a few floppers and a couple
Crawlers.
Then, we all checked in on the radio.

“Grant, clear,” I started.

One by one, they all checked in. We were all alive.

“Webber,” I said into my mic. “Were you bit?”

“Nothing hurt but my pride,” he said. “Stupid thing tried to chew through my chest armor. I’m not hurt.”

“Have Medical check you anyway,” I said. “In fact, Medical should check us all out.”

“Copy that,” said Webber, a little dejectedly.

April and
Gunny climbed out of the truck. I headed over to them with a big grin on my face. April hugged me tightly, drawing a scowl from Spec-4. Gunny just shook my hand and slapped me on the shoulder.

“You look better than the last time I saw you,” I said to him.

“Yeah, that young lady knows her stuff,” he replied, jerking his thumb at April.

“That’s good,” I said. “We could damned sure use her.”

“We’re here to help,” said April. “We brought all the food we had plus all the guns.”

“That’s good,” I replied. “Why did you guys abandon the shelter?”

“Those assholes we ran into back in Jamesville,” said Gunny. “They were snooping around and raided the house. There were three of them in that truck. I took them out and commandeered their ride. We knew it was just a matter of time until they found us.”

“I was afraid of that,” I said. “I’m glad you made it here, safely.”

We started gathering gear and taking it inside. Soon, others came out and helped us carry everything. It took a while to empty the two trailers on the Humvees and the back of the pick-up, but we could afford to go slow. The gate was secure and we were safe, for the moment. Once we were all inside and the doors shut, I started pulling off the tactical gear. I discovered that there were teeth embedded in the elbow pad that I’d used to strike the
Shambler
. I had to laugh as I knocked them loose.

Once Medical had checked us all out, we finally had a chance to sit down and make introductions. Everyone welcomed the two new arrivals like long lost family, which made me smile. Karen and the boys were especially glad to see
Gunny. Although he wouldn’t admit it, I’m sure he was just as happy to see them.

“So, what’s the deal with
the blonde?” asked Spec-4, shooting April a glance.

“That’s April,” I said. “She’s a nurse.”

“Hmm,” snorted Spec-4.

Before I could say anything else, Webber came walking over to me with a big grin on his face.

“Master Control just gave me some good news,” he said.

“What’s that?” asked Spec-4.

“Yeah, what gives big guy?” I asked.

“They just got a call on one of the alternate frequencies,” he replied, grinning. “
Bill Winston is on his way in with his wife and kids. He’s got my wife and daughter with him, too.”

“That is GREAT news!” I said, slapping him on the back. “Outstanding!”

“When are they going to get here?” asked Spec-4.

“Should be any time,” said Webber. “Winston commandeered a delivery truck.”

“Then we’d better clear them a path into the vehicle gate,” I said.

“Why don’t we clear them into the delivery area,” said Spec-4. “There aren’t as many zombies there and all we have to do is move the truck.”

“I’ve got a cruiser parked on the other side of the gate,” I said. “That’s how I got here.”

“Fine,” she said, “we’ll clear both vehicles and let them slip in the back.”

“I’ll go to Master Control and tell them,” said Webber, heading towards the stairs at a trot.

“Damn,” I said, shaking my head. “That is good news. Corporal Winston is a good asset. He’s ex-army, good with his hands and best of all…”

“Isn’t he the beer-guy?” asked Spec-4.

“He brews beer,” I finished, grinning from ear to ear.

We geared back up and prepped the delivery area. Once we were certain it was clear of zombies, we moved the truck and opened the gate. Matthews pulled the cruiser inside and parked it near the loading dock. Fifteen minutes later, a panel truck lumbered through the gate. Immediately, we secured the gate and replaced the truck against it.

Three kids, two women, four dogs and one very tired looking Corporal climbed out of the truck. Bill Winston was carrying a shotgun and had a pistol stuck into his belt. He wasn’t wearing his duty belt. I guess he didn’t see the need for handcuffs and pepper spray. I headed over to him and shook his hand.

“Good to see you, Bill,” I said.

“Likewise,” he replied. “We held up in my house for as long as we could. We were doing pretty
well until the zombies started finding their way into my neighborhood. I knew it was just a matter of time before one of the damned things saw us and all hell broke loose. My house wasn’t built to withstand a siege.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “We could sure use the help.”

“If my next door neighbor hadn’t been a route driver for a delivery company, we’d have never made it,” he said, pointing towards the truck that had
Hopkins Auto Parts
stenciled on the side.

“What all did you bring with you besides the dogs and family?” I asked.

“A few guns, all the food we had in the house and my brewing gear.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” I said, grinning.

“Absolutely,” he said. “What’s the point of surviving if you can’t have a beer once in a while?”

“An investment in knowledge pays the best interest.”

-
Benjamin Franklin

              We spent the next couple hours getting everything unloaded and into the building. Medical checked everyone out, just to be on the safe side. We all held our breath, not wanting to hear that someone had a bite on them. We were lucky that no one did. I let out an audible sigh when Maddie gave me the thumbs-up when she finished the last one.

             
Webber hadn’t let go of his wife and daughter since they arrived. I can’t say that I blamed him. I grabbed every chance I could to hug my family, too. Once everyone was checked and fed, I grabbed Winston and took him into my “office” for a chat. I wanted to pick his brain. Bill Winston had a good head on his shoulders, and I wanted to know if he’d heard anything that we might not have.

             
I poured us both a shot of Bushmills and sat back while we sipped it. I let him have a chance to enjoy the flavor and soak it in a moment. After a contented sigh, he smiled and relaxed visibly. It was almost like a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders.

             
“Thanks, Wylie,” he said, at last. “I didn’t think we’d make it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure there would be anyone here, once we made it.”

             
“Any time, brother,” I replied, refilling his cup.

             
“I don’t want to think about what we’d have done if you guys hadn’t been here.”

             
“The same thing any of us would have done,” I answered, “whatever it took to protect your family.”

             
“Yeah,” he said, sipping the second cup. “I just have no idea where we would go next.”

“Me either,” I admitted. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“That might be a problem,” he said, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

“What do you mean?”

“I have an old ham radio,” he said, staring into his cup. “I’ve been listening to it the past few days. There’s quite a bit of chatter from other survivors out there.”             

“Anyone in our area?” I asked, hopefully.

“No one close,” he said. “But that’s not what concerns me.”

I
took another sip and waited for him to continue. I didn’t have to wait long.

“There’s nothing on the government bands,” he said, “but the civilian bands are pretty busy. They’re trying to warn other groups to get out of population centers.”

“Good advice,” I agreed, “if you don’t have a defensible building.”

“That’s not it, Wylie,” he said. “There are reports of aircraft firebombing areas of large zombie concentrations. They’re hitting major cities.”

“Do you think Springfield qualifies?”

“I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it,” he said. “I think it’s safe to assume that we’re on the list.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “You’re right. We can’t risk it. If they’re using fuel-air bombs
[5]
, we’re toast. There’s no way this building can withstand that.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” said Winston. “So, what do we do next?”

“We’ve got to find another place to go,” I replied, and tossed back the rest of my drink.

“How do we do that?”

“We go shopping,” I replied, and stood up. “Get some rest. I’ll catch up with you in a bit. I’ve got a few things to take care of.”

“OK, Wylie,” he said. “In the meantime, do you need me to do anything?”

“Did you bring that radio with you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s in with the brewing stuff.”

“Good. Get it out and set it up. Listen for anything that might be about us.”

“On it,” he said, and tossed back the rest of his drink.

I headed out and took the stairs to Master Control. Inside, I found Lt. Murdock and Roger Matthews. The LT was pouring coffee and Matthews was manning the control board. As I walked inside, the LT handed me a cup and Matthews gave me a nod.

“How’s it going?” asked Matthews.

“Better, now,” I said, sipping the coffee.

I had to smile. It was very good coffee. The LT must have broken out “the good stuff” to celebrate the occasion.

“Yeah, for all of us,” he agreed.

“Who’s watching the prisoners?” I asked.

“Ian Shane and Johnny Bowman,” said the Lieutenant.

“Good,” I said. “Those two won’t be taken by surprise.”

“They won’t get the chance to surprise anyone,” said Matthews. “We’re only feeding them through the chuck-holes
[6]
.”

“Even better,” I said. “Any problems with them?”

“The usual,” he answered. “Demanding to be released, threats on our lives, promising to be on our side. You know…the usual.”

“It didn’t take a group of officers long to start acting like inmates,” I said, grinning.

“At least they aren’t trying to riot,” said Matthews.

“Because they know we’ll just shoot them,” I said, gravely.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” said the LT. “I’m still hoping that we can come to an understanding with some of them. We could use the extra man-power. We’re desperately short of capable officers.”

I couldn’t argue the point, but I wasn’t sure I was willing to trust any of them after what they’d done.
I’m not sure I would ever trust any of them, again. That left the big question of what we were going to do with them. We couldn’t keep them locked up forever, and we’d eventually have to make a decision on what we were going to do.

“Have any of you seen my friend, John Banner?” I asked, changing the subject.

“He’s up on the roof,” said Matthews. “Last I knew, anyway.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “I’ll be back in a bit. I need to talk to him.”

I headed out of Master Control and up to the roof. There were two people up there. Corporal Halsey was watching to the south and John was watching to the north. I nodded at Halsey and headed towards John.

“What’s on your mind?” asked John without turning around.

“How do you know I’m not here just to talk?”

“I’ve known you for, what, twenty five years?” he replied. “I can tell by the sound of your walk. Something’s on your mind.”

“True enough,” I answered. “We’ve got a problem.”

“You mean besides the army of the dead walking the streets below us?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Bill Winston says he heard on the radio that they’re fire-bombing the cities. If they hit us, we’re in trouble.”

“To say the least,” he agreed. “I’ve seen what a fuel-air bomb will do. There won’t be a building left standing in
side the blast range.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked.

             
“We figure a way out of here,” I said, after a moment. “Find us a place to hole up until time and decay put the dead back down for good.”

             
“That might be more of a problem than you think,” said John.

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“Take a look for yourself,” he said, handing me a set of binoculars.

             
I took them and brought them to my eyes.

             
“What am I looking for?” I asked, glancing at him.

             
“About a block down,” he said, pointing to the north. “Look for a zombie in a red baseball jersey.”

             
I started panning the crowd to the north. It didn’t take me long to find the one he was talking about. Even without the red t-shirt, I think I would have noticed him. It was a kid in his teens, no older than seventeen. His hair was spiked up and most of his left arm had been eaten off. That’s not what made him stand out, though.

             
“Do you mean the one with the arrow sticking out of his chest?” I asked.

             
“That would be him,” said John.

             
“Yours?” I asked, lowering the glasses.

             
“Right again,” he replied.

             
“So what?” I said, holding out the binoculars for him to take. When he didn’t take them, I knew something else was wrong.

             
“Did you miss or something?”

             
“No, I hit him right where I meant to,” he replied.

             
“Then what’s the problem?”

             
“I stuck that arrow in him a week ago, before we went to the lake after your family,” he said.

             
“You wanted to mark that one particular zombie,” I said. “Why?”

             
“Because he looked like an easy one to spot,” he answered. “I actually marked four, but he’s the only one that’s still in the area.”

             
“And?”

             
“I took note of his condition and wanted to monitor his rate of decay,” said John, a frown on his face.

             
“Well he looked pretty bad,” I said, “but, he didn’t look all that decayed.”

             
“Wylie, I’ve been tracking animals and hunting all of my life,” he said, his voice grave. “I know how long it takes for a carcass to break down. That kid doesn’t look any different than the day I marked him.”

             
I let that comment sink in. He was right. After a week, there should have been drastic changes in his condition. Bloating and decay should be in advanced stages long before now. The kid looked like he could have been turned this morning. This was very bad news. If they weren’t decaying, then they could last for years. Maybe even longer than that.

             
“Oh, shit,” I muttered. “That’s not good.”

             
“No, it most certainly is not,” agreed John.

             
“We’ve definitely got to get out of here,” I said. “No wonder the government is fire-bombing them.”

             
“We need to start planning long-term,” said John. “We’ve got to be able to defend ourselves against these things for a long time.”

             
“Alright,” I said. “Do you have a bow I can borrow?”

             
“Of course,” he said. “You can use the horn-bow I made last winter. I’ll use my longbow.”

             
“Do you have enough arrows for us both?”

             
“I don’t see why not,” he said. “I’ve got nearly a hundred shafts ready for use.”

             
“Alright, then,” I said. “Let’s go hunting.”

             
John followed me down from the roof and back inside. I headed downstairs, looking for volunteers. I found them all in the break room, eating lunch. When I walked inside, they all turned to look at me.

             
“He’s got that look on his face,” said Southard, smirking. “Wylie, what are you planning?”

             
Spec-4 just shook her head and reached for her pack.

             
“Don’t suit up, just yet,” I said. “I’m planning a stealth run for just after dark. Anyone interested?”

             
“I’m in,” said Spec-4. “If I don’t go, you’ll probably get eaten.”

             
“Maybe,” I said, grinning. “Anyone else?”

             
“I’ll go,” said Sanders, grinning.

             
“No, you won’t,” said Maddie. “You’re not ready for combat, quite yet.”

             
Sanders looked like a kid who just lost his puppy, but he didn’t argue.

             
“You can get that sad-eyed look, all you want,” said Maddie, “but you’re not going out and pulling those stitches loose.”

             
“I’m in,” said Southard.

             
“Me too,” said Matthews, from behind me. “Where are we going?”

             
“I’ll tell you in a bit,” I said. “Just grab your gear and get your armor on.”

             
Everyone took off to gather their stuff. I headed upstairs and got my gear together, too. I took some time to talk to my wife and kids. They weren’t happy with my decision, but they didn’t try and stop me. A few minutes later, I was back in the briefing room with my bag in hand. John, Southard, Spec-4, Matthews and Bowman were all inside, armor on and guns in hand.

             
“Bowman saw me grabbing my gear and asked what was going on,” said Matthews.