“Well,” Rigs stated as he stepped off the EPEV. “Looks like everything we did in Elkhart is for naught. They never got to South Bend.
Rachel asked, “Do we know how bad it is? Did she say?”
Zeus answered, “It isn’t that bad. The dead don’t stay where there isn’t any food. Unless they are zids. Then it’s as if they don’t know any better.”
“Isn’t that strange,” Rachel said. “How every team has a different name for things. Wait.” She snapped her finger. Lifted it up, to tell them to hold on, reached in her back pocket, unfolded a sheet of paper, looked at it, and said, “Now, that’s stranger than a trap door in a canoe.”
Yates shook his head confused. “Did you just look at a cheat sheet for a bad Fred saying?”
“I did,” Rachel replied. “I didn’t learn them all yet, but I promised Fred I’d say them. Isn’t it funny?”
Kasper laughed. “So … funny.”
“No,” Yates said. “No, it’s not.”
“Can we …” Rigs stated. “Get back to letting Zeus finish his thoughts?”
“Yes, please,” Yates added. “Before that intelligence switch goes off.”
Zeus grumbled. “Anyhow … what I was saying …” he paused.
Rigs nodded once at Zeus. “You were saying …”
“I was saying …”
“Off!” Yates blurted out. “Rachel and her dumb Fred sayings made him completely forget.”
“Shut up,” Zeus snapped. “I remember now. We were talking about South Bend. How the zids would still be there, but the others probably dispersed to look for food.”
Yates tossed up his hands. “How is it going to be possible to get all the dead from all over the country?”
“They’re going to have to clean sweep, like they do in major cities,” Zeus replied.
“Dude, we have seen ... Wh … What happened to St. Louis,” Kasper said. “Twenty five percent of that city is burnt out.”
“Have you seen Los Angeles?” Zeus asked.
“I saw it before the virus,” Kasper said.
“Yeah, then you know how many people lived there and you know the amount of zids there had to be,” Zeus explained. “The brain is what is controlling the undead. So you have to massively destroy the brain. They used Thermobaric bombs.”
“How does that work out?” Yates asked. “They suck the oxygen out of the air.”
“But ...” Zeus lifted a finger. “It creates a vat of pressure that pretty much destroys the brain. Causes enough damage to put them down. Tall buildings have some burns, but nothing like St. Louis.”
“Bombing cities is above our paygrade,” Yates said. “I could bomb South Bend with the EPEV.”
“And you wonder why everyone wants you dead,” Zeus said.
Yates laughed then turned to get back on the EPEV. He stopped.. “Okay, we have company.”
Rachel turned her head to see four undead making their way quickly to the EPEV. She reached for her honing rod.
Rigs stopped her. “Hold off.”
“They’re coming,” Rachel replied. “You want us to just stand here?”
“No…” Rigs replied. “I think it’s time to put Kasper to the test and see what he can do. If they go for him, he’s skilled enough to take them out. If he truly can walk among them, then he’s fine. We need to know.”
Kasper didn’t say anything, he merely pulled out his gladius and walked toward the oncoming group of dead.
<><><><>
Fred walked along side Liz down the corridor of the Resting Meadows retirement home. “I’m really glad you let me come see Barry.”
“He’ll be happy to see you,” Liz told him. “And I am happy to escort you.”
“I know ya’ll think I’m gonna change or turn, you do know there’s a freeze.”
Liz stopped walking. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I have seen people turn that had the dormant virus. It’s not like they’re walking down the street and suddenly they are a zombie. There’s a freeze. They literally just stop. Like this ….” Fred didn’t move. His eyes didn’t blink, his hands froze. “Then they do this.” He went back to his frozen position, then his head dropped forward, along with his arms. “Then they stay that way about thirty seconds before they turn. I’ve seen it about a half dozen times. Always the same.”
“Then what? How do they act?”
“Like a pro.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Liz asked.
“Okay, so when someone that’s bit or got the fever virus, they turn and move slow. I mean like a herd of turtles. I call them beginners. That lasts a couple days. After that they run. They run, don’t get winded, just vicious. Until their body starts to breakdown and then they move slower. But a dormant virus person …” Fred snapped his finger. “They go from zero to sixty.”
“That is really good information,” Liz said. “When I was out there early on, fighting them, fighting for my life, I encountered both fast and slow. Never paid attention to the stages and time frames. Somewhere in the journey I went back to being political.”
“Any time I can be of insight just let me …” Fred paused at the doorway to the recreation room. “Good lord on a high mountain in Nevada, who is that vision of beauty in such an ugly world. I apologize ma’am if my forwardness is offensive.”
“Not at all.” Liz was curious as to what Fred was talking about or rather to whom he was referring. The second she peeked inside, the thought that crossed her mind was, ‘I should have known.’ Liz cleared her throat. “Yes, Gretchen. She’s … she’s different.”
“She’s amazing.”
All Liz wanted to say was, ‘not really’, but she refrained. Liz was never a shallow woman. She never let petty jealousy mark her view of another woman, in fact, if she saw a beautiful woman, Liz would always comment on beauty. She judged beauty not by the exterior but interior of a person as well. Gretchen was a nice and good person, but her appearance certainly never warranted the reactions she got from so many people.
Gretchen was odd. A young woman of maybe thirty, if that. Her age was hard to tell. When Liz first saw her, the first thought that went through her mind was Gretchen reminded her of the character Fran the Romanian champion in the movie Dodgeball. Only much, much thinner. In fact, Gretchen was rail thin with short dark pigtails and a near unibrow.
Gretchen had worked at Resting Meadows before the virus as an activities assistant and still remained in the position of lifting people’s spirits. She wore her scrubs quite differently. The top was cut short and tied above her belly exposing the hawk tattoo and the pants rested at her boney hipbones.
She spoke with a slightly nasal meets slushy style of speaking. But if there was anything Liz envied about Gretchen it was her self-confidence. Perhaps it just shone through, because almost every single man that came in contact with her was mesmerized.
“Hey, everyone!” Gretchen stood before a group of six. “Look! It’s the president! Yay!” She jumped a couple times and clapped. “Mrs. President, you’re just in time for charades. Care to join us?”
“No, no, Gretchen, thank you.” Liz waved her hand back and forth. “I just came so Fred here could visit his friend Barry.”
“Fred.” Gretchen walked to him.
Fred extended his hand. “So nice to meet you.”
Gretchen turned her hand slightly sideway and daintily shook Fred’s hand. “Pleasure. So Barry is your friend. He doesn’t want to play with us.”
“Barry is a serious guy,” Fred nodded, “I’ll speak to him.”
“Don’t bother!” a woman in the circle called out. “He’s just nasty.”
“Oh, Agnes,” Gretchen playfully scolded. “We all remember how moody you were when you arrived. Barry is over there behind the confessional wall, Fred, sitting with Lance.”
“I’m sorry the …?”
“Confessional wall,” Gretchen pointed to the flowered folding partition. “Our priest comes in weekly to hear confessions ove
r there.”
“In a nursing home?” Fred asked.
“Assisted living, Fred, assisted living,” Gretchen corrected.
“Okay still,” Fred said. “Once a week confessions. I mean what kind of sins do they commit where they need to confess once a week?”
“You’d be surprised, Fred,” Gretchen said. “You’d be surprised.”
“Okay, well, then, that’s good to know. Thank you.” Fred nodded.
Liz smiled. “Continue, Gretchen. Sorry to interrupt.”
Gretchen spun with a bubbly nature, arms waving in the air and ran back to the group of six.
“Fred, I’m going to let you visit with Barry. I’ll wait in the hall,” Liz said.
“You don’t want to do charades? Might be good for you to get involved with the constituents.”
Liz chuckled, then looked over as the excited group shouted out wrong answers to Gretchen’s charades. “Um … maybe. Go visit.”
“I’ll do that.” Fred walked toward the confessional area.
<><><><>
“Gin.” Barry laid down the card. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just got a headache.” Lance rubbed his temple. “If she wasn’t so beautiful, I’d get annoyed with all that yelling Gretchen does.”
“She is a beaut,” Barry gathered the cards. “Wish I had someone like that to pump up morale at my restaurants. Although …” he began shuffling the cards. “I had pretty good morale.”
“You had the best roast beef sandwiches.”
“Thank you.”
“Knock, knock,” Fred called out.
Barry set down the cards. “Oh my goodness, Fred!”
“How ya, Barry?” Fred shook his hand and placed a hand on Barry’s shoulder. “You look good.”
“Pain isn’t bad,” Barry replied. “Hate being laid up. Wish I was out with the others.”
“Me, too.”
“Sorry to hear about your condition,” Barry told him. “We could handle you, Fred if you … you know, turned.”
Lance groaned out an, “Oh … You’re one of the unfortunates.”
“Unfortunates?” Fred asked.
“Fred,” Barry introduced them. “This is my new friend, Lance. Lance this is Fred, one of my Eliminator members.”
“Unfortunates,” Lance explained. “People that have the dormant virus and can change on a dime. But … how did you get to be an Eliminator if you aren’t immune?”
“I was bit. Several times.” Fred shrugged. “Never turned.”
“Good for you,” Lance said then nodded down to his amputation. “I didn’t turn, but I wasn’t fortunate enough to just walk away.”
“Between you and me, I wasn’t letting them chip off anything. I just lucked out.”
“I had that attitude,” Lance said. “Then I saw what they were doing with prosthetics and it changed my attitude.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Fred pulled up a chair. “They only let me out a short spell.”
“You know what?” Lance inched back. “I’m really not feeling too hot, so I’m gonna let you two visit.”
“You sure?” Barry asked. “Maybe you should call a nurse?”
“Nah, I’m just tired.” He wheeled back from the table. “Enjoy your visit.”
“Get some rest.” Barry told him. Once he was gone, he reached over and grabbed Fred’s hand. “Good to see you, Fred, really it is.”
“I miss you guys. I know it’s only been a couple days, but … I miss you. I wish I was still part of the team.”
“You will be again,” Barry said. “I promise. No one is supposed to know this, but …” he dropped his voice. “A cure is coming. That’s where the team went, to escort it back. So you see, in no time, you’ll be right back with us.”
“I hope. I can still be useful,” Fred replied. “They just need to see that.”
“They will.” Barry spoke with confidence and he believed it. The whole thing would be over soon, the threat of the virus would die out as soon as the team returned, then it would just be a matter of cleaning up the dead.
TWELVE – LIFE TROPHIES
South Bend, IN
Strangely, watching Kasper walk up to the dead didn’t breed excitement. It bred fear and worry in Rachel. It was perfect, and she was certain, in his mind, he was saying, ‘look at me, I’m Murphey’, but her mind didn’t scream any excitement.
They were all prepared to fire upon the few dead that moved at a moderate pace. Kasper held his weapon, extended out, ready to strike, ready to be pummeled. But the pummeling never happened.
The dead didn’t even see him.
He was able to slaughter them with ease. They never saw it coming, never even attempted to attack, it just looked so easy. It was for Kasper. The dead were focused on the living. So what did that say about Kasper?
Watching was reminisce of the feeling Rachel experienced when she learned that Kasper had been infected and would turn. A weeping sadness she hid. Placing on a brave front, then leaving the Center City Hospital, racing to her dorm room, and sobbing into a pillow so no one would hear.
Not again.
Not another person she loved.
It was horrible.
But then Kasper never really left. Not really. He was in there still and he found the strength and the spirit to return.
As he took down the dead it only made Rachel fearful that maybe his return, their time together, was temporary. It was a strong gut instinct. If that were the case, she was going to enjoy every second she had with Kasper.
No regrets.
Because nothing lasts forever.
He returned to the EPEV and was greeted with congratulations and good job.
Yates was still curious about Kasper and the dogs.
Rachel hugged him and asked him if he was okay, and he was.
She thought about it the rest of the way to her neighborhood.
Her thoughts drifting to how different things would have been had Kasper not succumbed to the spear injuries. How they probably wouldn’t even be pulling onto her street.
It was also Rachel’s way of dealing with the nervousness of going back home.
She looked out the window of the familiar neighborhood. Cars were dirty, untouched for a year, the grass was incredibly high, undead wandered the streets just like when they were alive.
One woman still clutched a shopping bag,
“Well this is not what I expected,” Yates said.
Rachel felt the EPEV come to a stop. “We’re here?”
“This is the address,” Yates said. “Is this not your street?”
“Yeah, this is it. That red one is my house.”
Her portion of the street was a small cul-de-sac with eight houses. All of them the same. Cape Cod style houses constructed in the 1950s. Small homes with a triangular roof. Each house had two windows on the first floor, a door in the center and from the roof protruded two dormers.
Rachels house was red, center of the cul-de-sac. The driveway went to the back of the house and the flat front yard had a walkway that led up two steps to the small front porch.
In was an inconsequential, modest home with a budget white screen door they had purchased from Home Depot.
The EPEV pulled directly in front of the house and Rachel stood slowly, then walked to the door.
“Are you alright?” Rigs asked her.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Okay everyone,” Rigs called out. “We don’t want to draw any dead if we don’t have to. So … silencers on in case you have to shoot.”
“Rach,” Kasper said. “Finally, get … get to s-see your house. See the Rachel before all this.”
Yates mumbled. “It doesn’t look like you’ll learn much.”
“Dude, don’t be rude about my friend’s house.”
“I’m not,” Yates defended. “It’s just not what I expected to pull up to. I mean, I had this vision in my mind. Rigs said you met at a resort in the Bahamas.”
“Oh, you th
ought I was rich,” Rachel said, then chuckled. “Far from it. My husband was a schoolteacher, I was a homemaker and volunteered a lot. I won that vacation. Trust me we couldn’t afford vacations.”
“So you didn’t have a job outside the home?” Yates asked.
“I did. Many. None that lasted or worth talking about. It was best that I was always there for the kids to take them where they needed to go. Cliff worked part time at the grocer. The Eliminators is the longest job I’ve held.”
“For what it’s worth,” Zeus said. “It’s a great house. Just like the one I grew up in. And your kids, they wanted you more than a bigger house. Bet me.”
“My kids.” Rachel shivered a breath and puckered some. “They would have rather had an iPad. But … hey we made the best of it.” She reached for the door. “Anyone coming?”
Rigs turned around. “Yates, Zeus, you guys wanna keep a watch out here.”
“Only if I can go inside after,” Yates stood and put the silencer on his rifle. “I’m curious, too, to see who Rachel was before all this.”
“You guys are gonna be so disappointed. I was just a housewife and mom,” she opened the EPEV door and stepped out.
There was a smell to the neighborhood, damp, sour, a slight chilly breeze moved the air, Rachel stood outside the vehicle waiting for the others to exit.
After Kasper and Rigs, Zeus stepped out looking left to right, then came Yates. Both ready to protect.
“So you hear that?” Yates asked.
It was the sound of a clinking metal, like a dog chain on a back yard runner line.
“Yeah,” Rigs said. “What the hell is that?”
The sound picked up in pitch, which told Rachel the chain was unraveling quickly.
“There.” Zeus pointed to the house next to Rachel’s.
Rachel turned. Sure enough, a stiff moved hurriedly from the side of the house, but he was attached to a chain.
“What the hell?” asked Zeus.
“Pete Watson,” Rachel said.
Pete Watson reached the end of the line with the chain, he tried to reach them, his arms extended, legs moving and not making any progress.
“His wife probably chained him up,” Rachel said. “Look at his neck. He was bit. She knew he would turn. She probably let him suffer out there. I don’t blame her.” She shrugged. “He was such a dick. I never liked him. He was always complaining and bothering us.”
The Eliminators | Volume 3 Page 10
