The Reckoning - 02 (26 page)

             
By the time I finished talking to Karen and replenishing my ammo supply, the others were assembled by the Release Door. I saw that Jade was still wearing her flight suit, but had snagged an Interceptor Vest and weapons. Southard tossed me a black ballistic helmet when I got close to them.

             
“What’s the brain-bucket for?” I asked, glancing at it.

             
“With those idiots out there, we’d better be ready for enemies that will shoot back. The damned zombies may not be our biggest problem, right now.”

             
“Matthews,” I said. “You drive the second Humvee. I’ll take the lead. Spec-4, Southard and Jade are with me. You get Bowman, Winston and John.”

             
“No problem,” he said, slipping his own helmet on his head.

             
“What do you think we’re going to find when we get there?” I asked Matthews.

             
“Last I knew, Josh Kidman was still the site supervisor out there,” he replied. “He’s one of the most paranoid people I know. If I know him, he’s already sealed off at least part of the Underground.”

             
“Think we can get in?”

             
“I think I still know my way around down there,” he said, grinning. “I think we’ll get in. Let’s just hope he secured it before it was overrun. I don’t want to clear zombies out of a network of caverns, in the dark.”

             
“Me either,” I replied. “OK, folks, we stick together. This is a recon mission. We’re not going to engage unless we have to. I’m going to assume we’re heading in to a hostile environment, but that might not be the case. If the place has already been secured, there’s a good chance it might have been secured by the
Freemen
. If that’s the way it is, we leave. They had the firepower to take out a fighter jet. That means they will have the firepower to take out an up-armored Humvee.”

             
Shane, Halsey, Gunny and Webber joined us. They were all wearing armor and carrying weapons. They were going to be the gate team. They’d cover us while we exited the sally port and secure the gate behind us. They’d also stay armored and ready for our return, to let us in and cover us if we brought company. As I headed for the door, Gunny stopped me.

             
“Here,” he said, holding out my hammer. “I thought you might need this.”

             
“Thanks, Guns,” I said, tucking it into my belt.

             
I noticed that he’d rewrapped the handle with 550 cord and braided the thong. It looked great. I nodded my appreciation and patted him on the shoulder.

             
“Just don’t lose it,” he said, grinning. “That thing might save your life.”

             
We lined up around the Release door and filed out tactically. The vehicle area was clear, but we always swept it when we went out. The one time we didn’t sweep it would be the time when there would be zombies inside the wire. I wasn’t planning on losing anyone because we got complacent.

             
Once we were sure the intake area was clear, we headed for our vehicles. The sally port team got into position with Shane in the gate/car. I fired up my engine and pulled up to the gate. Matthews came up right behind me and gave me the thumbs-up in the mirror.

             
“700, how does the outside of the gate look?” I asked, keying my mic.

             
“We count six outside the gate,” replied 700.

             
“All teams lock and load!” I said into the mic. “Southard and John get on the SAW’s.”

             
Southard hit our turret and I could see John pop out of the other turret in the mirror. I waited until Southard hit the roof of the Humvee to indicate he was ready. Gunny, Halsey and Webber got into position and readied their weapons. Then I flashed Shane the go signal. Immediately, the gate began to slide open. It was over in seconds. Webber, Gunny and Halsey cleared the gate without the SAW’s ever having to engage.

             
As soon as they ceased firing, I punched the accelerator and shot out the gate. Matthews came right on my heels. I could see the gate closing behind us, but I didn’t wait for it to secure. John and Southard climbed back inside and secured the turret hatches. I knew that in order to get to the Underground facility, I was going to either have to pass the hospital or the college. Both were swarming with the dead. We were going to have to take a circuitous route. It wasn’t going to be easy.

             
I headed south and followed the route we’d taken with the bus. There were zombies around, but I kept the accelerator down and sped through the area as quickly and safely as I could. Matthews had no trouble keeping up with me, riding less than twenty feet off my rear bumper. I turned east when we hit Trafficway and kept going. The road was clear enough to navigate without slowing down.

             
As we shot through the intersection at National and Trafficway, I could see two trucks that were backed up to the grocery store to our right. They hadn’t been there before. Someone was making a raid on the store. I caught a glimpse of a few of those modified SUV’s. They had to have seen us, but we didn’t slow down. I wasn’t planning on a firefight with them, now. Not if I could help it anyway.

             
“I think those were the same assholes we ran into earlier,” said Southard.

             
“Couldn’t be the same ones,” I said, smiling. “I’m pretty sure we took them all out.”             

             
“You know what I mean,” he said. “More of those
Freemen
douche bags.”

             
“Safe bet,” I agreed. “We’re not going to go introduce ourselves to find out.”

             
“What if they follow us?” asked Jade.

             
“They won’t,” I replied. “They’re after the food, not us.”

             
“I hope your right,” she said.

             
“Me too,” said Spec-4. “I don’t want to tangle with them again, if we can avoid it.”

             
I kept driving until I could see the bridge where we’d ruined our SAW the last time we’d gone under it, by having a zombie drop onto our roof. I didn’t see any movement on top, so I kept the speed up and headed for the bridge. I could see a few bodies on the ground beneath the bridge, but nothing that would slow us down. Once we cleared it, I released the breath that I’d been holding. I heard Spec-4 do the same. I winked at her and smiled.

             
“No sweat,” I said, grinning.

             
She just gave me a wide-eyed look and nodded.

             
“Yeah, this time,” she said.

             
Chestnut was choked with cars, but I found an opening. It was big enough that I could squeeze through to a side street on the other side that ran past an old historic cemetery. Following the back streets, I avoided Chestnut and headed north on the first side street. By the time we had backtracked to Division Street, we were clear of most of the residential areas. We were approaching an industrial area where I hoped we wouldn’t find many zombies.

             
Division Street was clearer than I expected. We turned back east on Division and headed for the overpass that spanned US 65. To our left was the warehouse for American Wholesale Grocers. It was fenced off and looked to be locked up tight. I filed that away for future use. I knew that warehouse was full of food and supplies. We’d have to add it to our shopping list.

             
The off-ramps were blocked to US 65, but I had no intention of going out on the interstate. I navigated around abandoned vehicles on the bridge and continued on to the east. We exited the city limits of Springfield and passed a gated community on our right. The gates were shut and I could see a lot of zombies inside the fence. It was a nice housing development, but their wrought iron fences and pass-code gates didn’t save them from the undead.

             
Ignoring it, I continued on east and took the first left I came to. Then it was only a couple hundred yards to the rear entrance to the Springfield Underground. I slowed down as I approached the driveway, expecting to see it blocked off. It wasn’t, and that surprised me. I turned in the driveway and followed the road down to the guard shack where I’d spent quite a few nights.

             
As I rounded the bend in the road, I could see that the gates were locked and that someone had pushed semi trailers up against the fence to reinforce it. The gates were also secured with a semi truck driven right up against them. I slowed down as we got close and scanned the area. I didn’t see any undead in the area, so I put the Humvee in park and got out. Spec-4 followed suit and we both brought our weapons up. The others got out and joined us. Matthews came walking up to me, his dark sunglasses making his eyes impossible to see.

             
“Looks like they secured the place already,” I said, gesturing at the gate.

             
“If they blocked off all the entrances like this, then they’re pretty secure,” he said. “Not too many people even know how to get here. With any luck, the
Freemen
don’t even know it exists.”

             
“That’s a great thought, but we can’t count on it,” I said. “Do you think they know we’re here?”

             
“I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet,” he said. “That camera turned towards us the second we got out of the vehicles. My guess is that they’re watching us right now.”

             
“Safe bet,” I replied.

             
I turned towards the ramp that led down into the Underground when I heard the noise of engines. Two large pick-up trucks sped up the ramp and stopped about twenty yards away from us. They were the extended cab dual wheel trucks, both with Springfield Underground signs on the sides. Four people got out, three men and one woman. They were all wearing boots, black BDU pants and a grey security uniform shirt with a shiny badge on the front. I recognized the uniform instantly, having worn it years before.

             
They were all armed with a pistol on their hip and a long gun in hand. Two of the men had AR style rifles and one had a deer rifle with a scope. The woman had a 12 gauge pump shotgun. It looked like a Benelli. They all wore sunglasses and had ball caps on with the logo of the security company. They fanned out slightly, but not tactically. Two of the men carried their weapons like they were in a bad movie. With one hand on the grip with their finger on the trigger and the barrel lying on their shoulder, pointing into the air.

             
The other male carried his pointed down in a close approximation of a military grip. The woman surprised me. She had her weapon up, but not aimed at us. She also had a combat knife stuck in her belt. She advanced cautiously and her eyes never stopped sweeping us for any sign of a threat. Of the four of them, she struck me as the best trained.

             
“What do you want?” asked the man with the military grip.

His name tag read Bertram.
I dubbed him Shades.

             
“I’m looking for Sergeant Kidman,” I said.

             
“Who the fuck are you?” demanded one the men with the gun pointed over his shoulder.

             
He was younger than me and had the face of a weasel. He looked like he hadn’t showered since long before the zombies came. His name-tag read Clark. I decided to call him Weasel-face, instead.

             
“Sheriff’s department,” I said, gesturing at the badge.

             
“Newsflash,” said the other moron with his gun over his shoulder, “there ain’t enough of the county left to need a Sheriff.”

             
He was a bit overweight and needed a shave. He’d sweat through his uniform top and it wasn’t even hot outside. His name tag read Gagne. I tagged him as Lasagna because it rhymed with his name and seemed to fit him. The woman hadn’t said anything. Her name tag read Chastain. She was rather nondescript, average height and weight. She had shoulder length brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail and no piercings that I could see. Something about her seemed different than the others.

              “Why do you want to see the Sarge?” asked Shades.

             
“We’re old friends of his,” said Matthews. “We used to work together.”

             
“Bullshit,” said Weasel-face. “I think they’re lying.”

             
“How about we put it another way,” I said. “We’re asking politely to see the Sergeant. Clearly, you’re outgunned here. If we were here for a fight, you’d already be in one.”

             
“He’s right,” said Chastain. “They’re all carrying military hardware. If they wanted to fight us, we’d lose.”