Transformation: Zombie Crusade VI (34 page)

Luke was simmering with rage, but he kept his voice even. “I’m Major Luke Seifert with the Allied Resistance. The soldiers who did this to you work for a rogue general who calls himself President Barnes. He developed and released the virus. We’ve fought that bastard from New York to Iowa, and we’re still chasing him west. Spread the word when you meet survivors: don’t trust anyone who claims to represent the government or General Barnes.”

“A little late for that,” the man said bitterly.

“Listen,” Luke offered, “we have some food and medicine and clothing if you guys need anything before we continue on.”

The man shook his head. “Thanks, but we had enough of that stuff for thousands of people before the ‘government’ showed up. Now, we have fewer than fifty of us hidden out along the river. We’re good.”

“Can we do anything for you or your survivors?”

“Yeah, you can find and kill each and every one of the sons of bitches who did this to us.”

“I’ll do my best,” Luke promised.

At an impromptu council meeting back at the convoy, most of the commanders wanted to smash through the wandering infected and continue north, but Luke was determined to put the creatures out of their misery before moving on.

“There aren’t enough of them to present a threat to us,” Maddy argued.

Logan nodded his agreement. “Just wasting time.”

“I understand why you feel that way,” Luke responded, “but every one of those creatures was human three days ago. We can save them from an existence none of us would want our loved ones to experience. We’re following the Golden Rule.” He looked at Zach. “How about me, you, and one of your platoons take care of it? We can catch up with the battalion after we finish.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Zach agreed.

As the rest of the battalion moved on, Zach’s platoon arrayed their Hummers in a line in front of the column of stumbling, moaning infected moving in their direction. Luke was standing alone, a hundred meters in front of the troops with his axe in hand. As the first of the zombies approached, he took note of how they were still completely dressed, looking for all the world like they were simply drunk humans with coal-black eyes. The creatures took little note of him, certainly giving no indication that they thought of him as food. With all his heart he wished that he would see some sign of awareness from these newly infected, but their slack facial expressions betrayed nothing but mindless hunger. The sight of the troops behind Luke set the zombies to moaning in anticipation, and the sound brought back terrible memories of the first days of the outbreak.

It's not any fight we’ve been training for
, Luke thought,
but we all remember how to do this
. He swung his axe at a tall man and cleaved his skull in two. The zombie instantly and silently dropped to the ground, and Zach moved forward with a squad of fighters armed with spears, pistols, and assorted knives. He carried his favored war-hammer. Every soldier assigned to kill was backed up by three others, who were to do nothing but observe unless their buddy ended up in trouble. Every few minutes, the troops would rotate so that nobody had time to grow tired and careless. Luke estimated that there were about a thousand zombies that needed put down, which confirmed the number given to him by the survivor on the river. Killing that many infected took time, but the most important thing was to make sure that none of the soldiers were hurt during the operation.

The last zombie went down two hours after the first. Not one soldier had been injured, at least physically. Luke saw that the fighters were covered with gore, and knew that he had to look the same. Every Hummer in the battalion carried a mobile disinfecting station, and he ordered the soldiers to clean themselves up while he shared a private conversation with Zach. “There were plenty of children in this group, and I saw your guys hesitate a few times; make sure you keep an eye on them and get them talking about it back in camp.”

Zach nodded, then raised the visor on his helmet to speak. “I forgot how horrible this work is; it’s almost easier to fight hunters.”

“It’s definitely easier on the emotions,” Luke agreed. “I’m sure most of our troops had to fight to get to safety when the virus first hit, but this was wholesale extermination.”

“I’ll talk to ‘em,” Zach promised.

“I think Jack would tell you to get ‘em drunk and get ‘em talking, maybe even crying,” Luke offered. “It’s been a hard day.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. What about the bodies?”

Luke shook his head. “We have to leave them where they fell—I want us back with the rest of the unit before dark.”

CHAPTER 28

The Black Battalion followed Highway 389 to the Utah state line, where it became Highway 59. A small town sat along the border; according to the map it was called Colorado City on the Arizona side, and Hildale in Utah. Luke could immediately see that neither Carlson’s people, nor any other group, had done anything to clean up the streets. The route through town was cluttered with the usual assortment of pile-ups, debris, and corpses lying in various stages of decomposition. Once again, the troops encountered no hunters or other infected as they cleared the obstacles blocking the road. Gracie offered a theory on the area. “I think that everyone who survived the outbreak eventually headed north to join up with the folks clearing the Wasatch Front. Once they were gone, there was simply no food for the infected.”

Wyatt was standing next to Luke after reporting his scouts’ observations. “If anyone survived this place at all,” he muttered.

“Definitely a ghost town,” Luke agreed. He turned his attention to Gracie. “I’m taking one of your company’s Hummers around this mess and heading toward the interstate.”

There was something about the tone of Luke’s voice that caused her to peer at him sharply. “I have a scout squad divided up between three Hummers,” she finally replied. “Only one of them isn’t pulling a trailer, and that’s the vehicle they use to roam ahead of the cavalry. I’ll let you borrow that one if you tell me what’s going on.”

“Can I take a few of the scouts with me?”

Gracie’s eyes blazed, though she knew that Luke didn’t need her permission to staff any expedition. “Just tell me what’s going on, Luke.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this place—not like we’re surrounded by hunters, but something is just off.  I don’t like it, and I might need some back-up on this one.”

“Take fire team two,” Gracie suggested. “I don’t suppose you’d let me come with you?”

Luke shook his head, “I’m leaving you in charge while I’m gone. I promise we’ll just take a quick look around—your soldiers won’t be gone long.”

Gracie sighed. “And you better come back with them. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you sneaking off every now and then.” She lowered her voice. “You’re supposed to let me know when you’re making contact with your hunters.”

Luke leaned in toward Gracie and whispered hoarsely, “Do you think I’d ask to take your troops if I was planning on meeting up with Will and his pack? It’s like I said, I feel like there’s trouble around here, and I just want to have a look around before the whole convey heads out. We don’t need any more surprises.” He kissed Gracie on the cheek. “Are we good?”

“We’re good,” she responded with a light smack to Luke’s backside. “Now get going. The sooner you leave the sooner you’ll be back.”

Andi hadn’t seen Barnes in several weeks, not since he’d gloated about the number of hunters he’d accumulated in California. She spent her days swimming, playing Scrabble with Thelma, and working out in the fitness room of the former hotel that was now her comfortable jail. Through small talk with the guards, she’d learned that Barnes had left the state, but he was expected to return soon. Given his enthusiasm about the upcoming attack on Utah, she was hopeful that only some type of disastrous emergency could have pulled him away from what had become his West Coast command center.

Thelma had been given a few small supervisory duties in the hotel’s ongoing renovation process, and she took her responsibilities very seriously. She was in charge of designing and decorating two guest suites for “important visitors,” as well as acquiring “appropriate” art and literature for the president’s residence. Andi thought the tasks were completely ridiculous, but she appreciated anything that kept Thelma occupied.

Unfortunately, Thelma had been a dedicated member of the North American Scrabble Association, and she purposely made time to fit in games with Andi several afternoons a week. The fact that Andi was a worthy opponent stimulated Thelma, until early February when Andi racked up a three game winning streak. Thelma was a sore loser.

“I know we’re getting a late start, but we’re not getting dinner until after our rematch, dear.”

“Then play by the rules. You get twenty-five minutes to complete all plays, and every minute over that is a deduction of ten points,” Andi said in her stern teacher voice. She enjoyed getting under Thelma’s skin. It was the next best thing to being alone.

“I’m glad you were listening when I taught you the rules, but I find that timing method tedious. We’ll use my three-minute sand timer, and the game is stopped at fifty-four minutes.”

“Even better,” Andi agreed. “Why didn’t we play that way before now? Oh well, it doesn’t matter—but I think you usually take closer to five minutes to finish a turn.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Thelma scoffed. “Now draw a tile to see who goes first.”

Andi drew a blank tile. “So I get to go first, right?”

“Unless I draw the other blank,” Thelma replied with obvious irritation in her voice. She drew the “X”.

“Sweet,” Andi declared. “I get to start with double-word score. Does General Barnes play Scrabble?”

“President Barnes—not General,” Thelma corrected as she remixed the tiles.

Andi pulled a tube of chapstick out of her pocket slathered it generously over her lips. “So does he play Scrabble?”

Thelma snorted, “I’m sure I don’t know.”

Andi looked surprised. “Really? I’d have thought that you two would play now and then—you’re both interested in precise language and strategery?”

“That’s not a word, dear.”

“But you know what I mean—this is a thinking person’s pastime. In all the years you’ve known Gen—President Barnes, I would have thought you’d be social now and then.” Andi tipped her head sideways and gazed intently at her rack of tiles. “What’s it called when you can use all your letters in one turn? A bingo?”

Thelma sighed in frustration. “I don’t believe you can use all your tiles, but yes, it’s called a bingo.”

“Look, you know I don’t like President Barnes—that’s no secret. But I’m his prisoner. He obviously trusts you; you’re one of his most valuable employees.” Andi rearranged her letters. “Shouldn’t you flip the hourglass?”

Thelma turned the timer over. “Employees work for their employers—socializing shouldn’t be part of a job.”

“But you socialize with me,” Andi pointed out, “I’m not your employer, but keeping an eye on me is part of your job. Really, Thelma, I don’t know if you’re my jailer or my friend—I guess you’re a little bit of both.”

“I don’t know what to say, dear. I’m honored that you recognize that I am your friend, even if it’s just a little bit,” Thelma reached out and patted Andi’s hand. “I know you don’t like to discuss personal things, but I want you to know that I’m always here if you need to talk.”

“I think I’m going a little stir crazy,” Andi confided. “You’ve been able to come and go—you have real work to do. I’d be grateful if you’d find some way I could help you. I really just want to be busy.”

Thelma nodded sympathetically. “I understand that. I’m sure I can find something—I know, you can help me catalogue the books for the library.”

“I would really like that,” Andi lied. She was hoping for a chance to accompany Thelma on one of her off-site excursions, but she knew she’d have to proceed slowly.

“Your time’s running out, dear.”

“It’s a sign of the times,” Andi quipped before beginning to slowly place her tiles: T – R – E – A – S – O – N. “That’s sixty-four points.” She looked at Thelma innocently. “What are the odds? I can’t believe how lucky I am at this game.”

“I can’t either.” Thelma eyed Andi suspiciously, then examined each of the newly-laid tiles. She didn’t have any idea how Andi could have possibly cheated, right under her nose, but she also couldn’t believe the luck of the draw.

Andi patted Thelma’s hand. “Don’t forget to flip the timer,” she said, rubbing her fingers together so the lip balm would wipe away the remnants of washable marker. She was pleasantly surprised that the day-old tiny dots had come off the tiles so easily. Thelma had left the game in Andi’s room, and, on a whim, Andi had discretely marked the tiles. She was thoroughly enjoying Thelma’s aggravation when a knock at the door interrupted the game.

One of the special service guards regularly assigned to General Barnes had a message to deliver. “The president will be back tonight, and we’re conducting a mandatory security sweep. I’m going to have to ask you to accompany me to the lobby while we make sure this floor is clear.”

In the weeks following the mission to Norco, Orvil, J.J. and T.C. attained Carter and Jack’s status as local celebrities in Vicksburg. T.C. was taking advantage of his new popularity with the ladies. In the evenings, he sat on his front porch, playing guitar and singing newly-penned songs about his adventures. While the nearby adults cringed at his lyrics, groups of teenaged girls began to gather around him like bees to honey. Soon, wherever he went, a trail of giggling girls seemed to follow. Captain Harden had to rearrange the duty schedule to avoid constant interruptions at headquarters. Finally, T.C. was assigned as Carter’s full-time aide for as long as the Kentuckian remained in the settlement. Jack and Carter were given their own small cabin to serve as an office as well as their living quarters.

The Red River Depot continued to be a source of valuable vehicles and other materials. Early one afternoon, as Carter and Jack organized inventories for several motor pools that were being set up along the river, T.C. attempted to make them lunch.

Carter sniffed at the air. “Dammit, T.C., ya burned the eggs again. The chickens ‘round here ain’t gonna be able to keep up with ya.”

T.C. looked perplexed. “Grandma never burns the eggs—I don’t get it . . .”

“Well, ya can go git us some food—”

T.C.’s eyes lit up. “No problem. How soon do I have to be back?”

Jack leaned back and fixed his eyes on T.C. without saying a word.

T.C. instinctively backed up a few steps. “I’ll be fast, sir.” He grabbed his coat and made a quick dash for the door.  

Carter looked over at Jack. “It’s been more’n three weeks—Charlotte speakin’ to ya yet?”

“Nope. Is she talking to you?”

“Not a word. She’s a stubborn one.” Carter scratched his head.  “I still can’t believe that ya had a fling years ago and never told me ‘bout it.”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Do ya still think ‘bout Andi?”

“Every day.” Jack was quiet for a moment, but the muscles in his jaw twitched rhythmically. “Your mom is doing a great job with her kids. We’re gonna have to tell them that their mom’s not coming back.”

Carter nodded. “There ain’t no hurry—I’d like to give ‘em Barnes’ head on a platter when we tell ‘em, but I’m not sure they’d ‘preciate it.”

Before Jack had a chance to respond, T.C. burst through the door, breathless. “That really was fast—” Jack began.

“I don’t have your food; Captain Harden says to come right away. Some guy in an army uniform came in by boat and dropped off an envelope for you—said it was a message from Barnes.”

Jack and Carter sped directly to headquarters on their recently acquired motorcycles. Harden handed Jack a large, brown envelope before explaining, “Boat showed up from New Orleans. Pilot said he was just followin’ the president’s orders in deliverin’ this to Jack Smith. He said they had no doubt that we’d know where to find you.”

Jack took the proffered envelope. “You bother to read it?”

“Nope,” Harden replied. “I’m not sure I even want to know what’s in there, to tell you the truth.”

Jack tore the package open. Inside he found a sheaf of paper, maybe fifty pages thick. The document was a complete copy of the Utah evacuation plan designed by Stephen Carlson and other state leaders in the event of a major invasion by the infected. There was nothing else in the envelope. No personal messages, no threats, no gloating. Jack handed the papers to Carter without a word. He began to scan the document, and a few minutes later he looked up at Jack with a confused expression. “What the hell’s this ‘bout?”

“He knows we’re responsible for what happened down at Norco,” Jack didn’t have any doubt about what Barnes was trying to tell him. “Barnes’ revenge is an invasion of Utah, and he knows exactly how the people there will try to escape whatever monstrous horde he’s assembled this time.”

“We gotta warn General Carlson,” Harden exclaimed.

Carter knew how that would turn out. “Betcha the house that all radio transmissions are bein’ jammed, and if not, fer sure they got us monitored.”

“Yep,” Jack muttered as he closed his eyes in frustration, trying to quickly figure out a solution to this latest dilemma. His concentration was broken by the sound of several young soldiers pulling up in their Desert Patrol Vehicles. He peered out the window, initially annoyed at the sound, but then cocked his head. “How many of these DPVs are already up and running here and at the depot?”

Harden didn’t hesitate. “Maybe a hundred?”

“How many squads of infantry are at the depot with John and Tina right now?”