The Zombie Virus (Book 2): The Children of the Damned (14 page)

The girls fell silent, their story finished.
Steven and Kera remained silent, digesting what they had heard and
watched the fire burn down to embers.

Kera finally stood up and walked over to the
other two girls and sat down next to Katherine. She put her arm
around the girl and hugged her. “I’m sorry for snapping at you
earlier, Katherine.”

Katherine nodded, smiling faintly at Kera.
“It’s okay; I know I get a little hysterical at times. I can hold
my own though. And you can call me Katy.”

Kera smiled back. “Okay, Katy.”

“We should get some sleep. We need to get out
of here in the morning,” Steven said, standing and picking up his
rifle. “I’ll take first watch.”

He scrutinized the gathering of women and
realized that whether he wanted it or not, they were under his
care. With the collapse of society and the subsequent loss of the
societal protections afforded to women (and to a lesser extent
anyone old, weak, very young, or disabled), they would become a
commodity by the less scrupulous who had survived, to be used,
traded, and disposed of as one would any other possession. What
they saw here at this camp would be repeated over and over again
throughout the world without the rule of law. It would be up to
people like him, carrying the torch of honor and morality, to
protect the women of the world from those who would abuse them.
However, even he knew that without the great equalizer of guns he
would be useless to these women, as the strongest and most ruthless
in the world would dictate the lives of everyone else and there
would be no way to resist their abusive rule. Without guns in the
hands of everyone, truly only the strongest would survive.

Chapter Six

Jeremy felt the Stryker slow to a stop. The soldier
who was built like a bulldog and named Heinlich disappeared out of
the top of the vehicle’s hatch and after a few moments the Stryker
began moving again. It finally stopped and the engine died. Almost
immediately the red-headed man had the rear hatch of the Stryker
ramping down.

“Thank you for riding with the Stonewall
Brigade of the 29th Infantry Division. We know you don’t have much
of a choice in carriers these days, so thank you for choosing the
Blue and the Gray!” the man called out with a laugh as he walked
down the ramp.

While the men and women disembarked from the
Stryker, Shavers took Jeremy by the shoulder and led him out into
the bright sunlight of the cool autumn afternoon. Everyone had
gathered around the outside of the Stryker’s ramp and Jeremy
noticed a few additional people who were congregating in the
area.

Jumper bounded off to relieve himself on one
of the nearby truck tires and Jeremy looked sheepishly at his hosts
and shrugged his shoulders. No one seemed to care. Jeremy paused at
the foot of the steel ramp and observed his surroundings casually.
They were parked next to a row of old red Conex containers that had
doors and windows built into them, giving them the appearance of
low-rent trailers. They were within a parking lot in a fenced in
compound containing a variety of military vehicles. The twelve-foot
tall fence that surrounded the parking lot was topped with coils of
wicked looking razor wire that flashed menacingly in the rays of
the afternoon sun reflecting off its knife edges. A large two-story
red-brick building sat like a fortress directly in front of the
Stryker, its white framed windows high up on the walls; too high to
reach without a ladder. All in all, he thought that his was about
as safe a place as he was ever going to find.

Shavers appeared to be noticeably more
relaxed now that they were at their destination.

“Welcome to Staunton, Virginia and the Thomas
Howie Memorial Armory; home of the 116th Infantry Brigade.” He
smiled warmly at Jeremy. “I’m First Sergeant Shavers of Bravo
Company, 3rd Battalion, and this is Sergeant Heinrich, who seems to
have taken quite the shine to you.” He put his hand on the
short-wide man who laughed and put his hand out for Jeremy to
shake.

“Pleasure to formally meet you, son.” His
large hand engulfed Jeremy’s with a strong grip that could probably
crush walnuts if he so desired. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay at
our luxurious resort.”

Shavers turned to Heinrich. “Finish the
introductions then join me inside,” and without another word spun
on his heel and walked toward a set of doors that were recessed
between two of the building’s wings.

“This young man is Jeremy,” Sergeant Heinrich
introduced him in his rough sounding voice. “He was singlehandedly
holding off that swarm of crazies we annihilated near Waynesboro’s
industrial zone. He was literally stacking them deep.”

“You attendant for the trip out here to the
armory was PFC ‘Red Beard’ McCully.”

McCully bowed toward the boy with a smile.
“Yeah, he ain’t one to mess with,” McCully added.

“And here is your fearless driver for today,
Corporal Dinora Hernandez.” Heinrich indicated the short,
dark-haired Hispanic woman who was presently exiting the vehicle
from the hatch on the forward deck. She rolled her eyes at McCully
as she shouldered him aside.

“What’s up, kid?” she asked with a slight
hint of a Puerto Rican accent.

“I wouldn’t call him that, Dino,” McCully
laughed with a gleam in his eyes. “The little man proved himself
today.”

Hernandez ‘harrumphed’ and pushed past the
boy, heading toward the doors Shavers had disappeared through.

“On guns today we had PFC Butch Nantz with
the SAW and Miss Sarah Ferguson with her M4.”

The woman, who Jeremy thought was really more
of a girl and awfully damn cute, smiled at him again with her
azure-blue eyes aglow and took his hand gently in hers. Her pale
golden hair framed her face like a halo and he thought she was the
most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. Jeremy’s eyes
briefly wandered down to the two large mounds pressing tightly
against the fabric of her shirt. He hastily glanced back up and
from the sly smile she gave him he knew that he had been caught. He
blushed noticeably as he shook her hand and said that it was nice
to meet her. His head was swimming from the feel of the warm, silky
skin of her hand in his and he failed to hear what she said to him
in reply. He abruptly dropped her hand and faced PFC Nantz to hide
his embarrassment.

Nantz was tall, lanky man with a neatly
trimmed beard hiding his stern face. His dark hazel eyes squinted
in the bright light, however, they seemed to hold a bit of menace
in them. He nodded silently at Jeremy, slid a pair of sunglasses
over his eyes, then turned back to the Stryker where he instantly
climbed up and started working on the Browning machine gun.

“Don’t mind him,” the blonde girl spoke to
him with a voice like an angel’s. “He don’t like anybody.”

“Okay Miss Ferguson,” Jeremy replied in a
whisper, caught up in her eyes again.

“Please call me Sarah.”

He nodded.

Heinrich and McCully observed the interaction
of the young boy and slightly older girl and nearly laughed out
loud at how uncomfortable Jeremy was around the pretty blonde. They
nudged each other in the ribs, though thankfully they didn’t say
anything to embarrass Jeremy any more than he was.

Heinrich cleared his throat to get the boy’s
attention again and pointed to two armed civilians, both women, who
had met them when they exited the Stryker.

The women were older, one in her mid to late
thirties and the other one about a decade older. They also had a
hard-rugged look to their faces and Jeremy could tell that they had
seen some tough times lately; as had all of them.

“That’s Mrs. Camilla Murchison,” Heinrich
said, pointing to the taller of the two women with auburn hair like
Jeremy’s momma had, “and that’s Miss Debra Benton.” He indicated
the older dark-haired woman. They both smiled faintly and nodded to
Jeremy who nodded back.

“Let’s not forget Mr. Reese.” Heinrich gave a
nod to the clean-shaven older man with rough, weathered skin
dressed in civilian clothes who was leaning against the Stryker
smoking a cigar. The man seemed to have appeared from out of
nowhere. His gray hair was close-cropped and he had a glint of
steel in his hard, blue eyes. He appeared to Jeremy to be fifty or
sixty and was still all hard muscle packed on the frame of a
prize-fighter.

“Mr. Reese was Force Recon during Vietnam. A
damned Jarhead!” Jeremy could tell by the tone of Heinrich’s voice
that he highly respected the older man. Reese didn’t say a word,
just blew a ring of smoke in their direction and grinned.

“The last two members of our merry band of
rogues are up on the rooftops manning the OP-LP’s. You’ll meet them
later. Anyway, when you see a young dude with a shiny-black dome
that kind of resembles his ass, that would be Private First Class
Carroll, and you can tell him I said that,” he laughed.

“The other is Mrs. Pickeral. You can’t miss
her; she has a ponytail of coal black hair down to her… ” he
paused, smirking. “Well, you’ll know her when you see her.”

“So are you all soldiers?” Jeremy asked,
indicating the civilian-clad members of the party.

“Most of us were Army National Guard or Army
reserve when the shit hit the fan.” Heinrich’s gravelly voice
turned serious. “We’ve gotten some new recruits since then and lost
a few too.” He frowned a moment at the memories. “We seem to be
holding our own now. You’re the first newcomer in a few weeks.”

“What’s your dog’s name?” Sarah asked as the
shepherd came ambling up cautiously and sat next to Jeremy.

“I call him Jumper.” He grinned, patting the
dog on the head. “He saved my life.”

Sarah smiled at him and his legs about
melted.

“I had a German Shepherd named Molly. She was
my best friend.” Her smile faded. “She vanished a couple of days
after people started getting sick.”

“I need to get inside.” Heinrich nodded
toward the doors. “Sarah, why don’t you show this young man where
his accommodations are and then take him to the mess.” He addressed
the group still milling around the open Stryker. “McCully, Nantz,
make sure the Stryker is resupplied and refueled and I will see all
you bozos in the debriefing room in thirty minutes.” He turned and
entered the building as everyone else dispersed throughout the
compound.

“This way, Jeremy.” Sarah held her hand out,
indicating the doors the others had entered through.

Jeremy paused. “Wait a minute.” He went up to
PFC McCully who was re-entering the Stryker. “Mr. McCully, you
promised me some ammo.”

The red haired man paused and smiled through
his beard. “I did, didn’t I? Five-five six and 9 mil right?”

Jeremy nodded.

“I’ll have a load out for you on your bunk by
the time you get back from the mess hall. Oh, and you can call me
Rick.” He turned and entered the Stryker.

Jeremy followed Sarah through dimly lit halls
of the building with Jumper close on his heels. The building had an
old musty smell to it even though it appeared to be well kept up.
There was no electricity and the only light was what leaked in from
open doorways of adjacent rooms that had windows high up on their
walls.

“How did you guys find me?” Jeremy asked as
he walked a step behind the girl.

“We were on a supply run when we heard your
gunshots. We always try to rescue survivors if we find them,
although sometimes the odds are just too suicidal and we don’t dare
risk it. The swarm of crazies that were at that house was pretty
small compared to some in the area. We can go up against a few
hundred with the Stryker and survive if we can keep moving. So it
was a no brainer to go in for the rescue.”

They turned a corner and stopped at an open
door.

“Is everyone decent in here?” she called into
the room. There was no reply.

“Come on in and we’ll find you a bunk.” She
led him into the large room set with steel-framed bunk-beds stacked
two high. “There are a lot of empties, so choose whatever one you
want that is open.”

Jeremy walked around the room and chose two
lower beds that were below a window. “Can Jumper stay in here with
me?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess so. As
long as he doesn’t make a mess in the room I don’t think anyone
will care.”

Jeremy threw his pack onto one of the bunks
and took off the Sig AR pistol and sat it on the mattress. He sat
on the other bed and patted the mattress. Jumper obediently hopped
up and lay down next to him with his head on Jeremy’s lap. “I think
he likes it here,” he said, smiling at the dog.

“There are bed clothes in the foot lockers.”
Sarah indicated the chests at the foot of the bunks.

“Are you staying in here too?” Jeremy asked
wishfully.

Sarah laughed and patted his head. “No,
sweetheart, the girls have their own bunkroom.”

Jeremy felt his face turning red again and
changed the subject. “Do you have to worry about Loonies here?”

“Loon-?” she started. “Oh, the crazies?
Sometimes. We pretty much know where most of the swarms are in and
around town. They seem to always go back to the same place to bed
down each night. When a swarm is spotted heading this way the
lookout lets us know and we go to quiet mode where everyone stops
what they’re doing and goes inside until the swarm passes.”

“They don’t follow the sound of the
truck?”

“They do,” she answered. “However, we get in
here quick and shut it down so they can’t zero in on us. Sometimes
we get too near a group but they are easy to evade.”

Jeremy pulled out neatly folded sheets and
blankets from the foot locker and laid them on his bunk.

“Do you need help putting those on?” Sarah
asked. “Thank you,” Jeremy replied, agreeing to anything to keep
her here longer.

“How long have you been here?” he asked as
they dressed the bunk with the sheets.