The Eliminators | Volume 3

by Druga, Jacqueline

  Pop.

  Pete Watson took a shot to the head and dropped.

  Yates lowered his weapon. “Now he bothers you no more.”

  “Dude,” Kasper faced him. “I’m seeing a pattern with you. You just shoot anything without hesitation.”

  “Problem with that?” Yates asked.

  “May-maybe it’s not always a g-good thing to be f-fast.”

  “May-maybe it is,” Yates replied then grunted. Nearly doubling over when Zeus backhanded him in the gut.

  “Sorry.” Zeus apologized. “My hand slipped.”

  Almost with a stomp, Yates turned to him. “You think because you’re this oversized, macho wrestler that no one can take you on and beat you?”

  “Yes,” Zeus replied.

  “Don’t tempt me.” Yates pointed his finger.

  “Gentleman,” Rigs said with a soft warning. “Cut the shit.”

  “Language,” Kasper said.

  Rigs raised an eyebrow and slowly looked at Kasper. “Really?”

  “Dude,” he shrugged. “Someone has to be the moral compass.”

  “Let’s just …” Rachel held up her hand. “Let’s do this.” She walked up the pathway to the house. There was a frog shaped flowerpot on the porch with fake flowers and she reached into it.

  “Don’t tell me you leave the keys in there,” Rigs asked.

  “Yeah. It was for the neighbor, not Pete, to check my cats.”

  “Oh.” Kasper groaned out. “Man. You know they’re probably dead.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Rachel propped open the screen door with her body and brought the key to the door.

  “Cats are pretty resourceful,” Rigs commented. “They may have been alive.”

  “Unfortunately.” Rachel unlocked the door. “Jaggers and Snaps were pretty lazy housecats.”

  Kasper snickered. “Jaggers and Snaps. Did your kids pick out those names?”

  “No, I did.”

  “Even better.”

  Rachel stepped inside the house. There was no foyer, just a direct entrance into the living room. It wasn’t a big house. The kitchen doorway was in direct eyesight as soon as they stepped into the home.

  On the first floor was the typical cape cod lay out. Living room, large eat-in kitchen, bathroom and bedroom. The other two bedrooms were on the upper level.

  Rachel didn’t walk too far into the house. She stopped just behind the couch. Her heart beat so fast and chest felt heavy, too heavy making it hard to breath.

  “It’s okay,” Rigs laid a comforting hand on her back. “I have been in this position. Take a breath. Remember all the good.”

  Rachel nodded.

  “Oh, man, Rach.” Kasper walked around her. He pushed aside a couch pillow, then lifted a blanket. “Oh, man.” He walked to the kitchen and closed the open cabinets. “Oh, man, I am so sorry that looters or squatters messed up your house.”

  “What?” Rachel asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “They came in and just made a mess,” Kasper said.

  “No, this is the way we left it,” Rachel replied. “We were in a hurry. We had the flight times wrong and had to rush.”

  “Oh.” Kasper replied, then opened up the kitchen cupboard again. “So no one stole your food?”

  “No, we didn’t buy much before we left. We were saving money to spend on the trip.”

  “That’s cool.” Kasper wandered further into the kitchen and out of sight.

  “Ignore him,” Rigs whispered in Rachel’s ear. “He is super desensitized to stuff.”

  “It’s fine. My house wasn’t always this messy. It wasn’t always perfect either.”

  “Hey, Rach!” Kasper called out. “Your cats may have lived. There’s a hole in the screen.”

  “See.” Rigs gave a gentle nudge. “Cats are resourceful.”

  “Um … never mind,” Kasper said. “Found Jaggers or Snaps.”

  Rachel rushed into the kitchen.

  Kasper stopped her. “Don’t. It’s not pretty.”

  “Kasper please, I’m an Eliminator. I’ve seen it all.” Rachel stepped forward when Kasper moved out of the way. “Okay, maybe not.”

  The former feline lay on its side. It had decomposed to a point where all that remained were a thin layer of fur on the skeleton of its head and rump. The entire midsection was nothing but bones. Clearly it had been eaten by something.

  “Dude,” Kasper said. “I think we know now why we don’t see any cats. There’s not much left of them after they were eaten.”

  “Kasper,” Rigs scolded. “Be sensitive.”

  “Sorry. Back door is unlocked,” Kasper said. “So someone was in here.”

  “Probably the neighbor feeding them,” Rachel replied.

  “Or on them.”

  “Kasper,” Rigs warned again.

  “Sorry.”

  Rachel sighed and walked back to the living room.

  “Speaking of open doors.” Rigs pointed to the front door. “Want me to close that?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Which one was it?” Kasper asked. “Jaggers or Snaps?”

  “Jaggers,” Rachel answered. “I named him after Mick Jagger. The other one is gold, or was gold, like Sugar Snaps the cereal.”

  “Wow.” Rigs stood by the door. “I loved Sugar Snaps.”

  “He’s still gold,” Kasper said.

  Briefly Rachel felt excitement. If Kasper was saying ‘he was still gold’, that meant he saw Snaps. Maybe the cat was truly resourceful and alive … until she heard it.

  Almost as demonic sounding as a growler, Rachel heard the screeching ‘Reow’ and knew before she even turned to look.

  It was Snaps alright, one eye missing, it arched its back in attack mode, its tail, or what was left of it, was straight up.

  “Dude,” Kasper said. “It looks like the yellow version of the Pet Sematary Cat.”

  Snaps didn’t really notice Kasper, which sort of answered the question of whether Zombie Dogs would attack him.

  But Snaps did see Rigs and the moment the cat noticed him, he raged forward. Rigs was fast, he lunged for the screen door, pushing it open with his body and Snaps ran right by him and out.

  Pop.

  Quickly, Rigs did a double take and looked out.

  Rachel and Kasper ran to the door as well.

  Yates stood outside and gave a thumbs up. “All’s good,” he yelled.

  “Man.” Kasper shook his head. “That dude is fast.”

  <><><><>

  There was a fireplace in Rachel’s living room. It obviously didn’t work. It was blocked with a decorative screen. Rachel had taken the photographs from the mantle along with a few knickknacks, but it surprised Kasper what she didn’t take.

  On both sides of the fireplace were two older cabinets with shelves. They were built into the corners of the walls and had see-through cabinet doors. The one on the right had books. Stuff Rachel and her family not only never read but never touched. The dust was thick in there, a lot thicker than a year’s worth.

  On the left, that cabinet had other things on the shelf.

  It was like the Rachel achievement cabinet.

  Everything in there was about Rachel.

  Kasper knew right away she hadn’t done that herself, Rachel wasn’t full of herself. But the picture frames with the words ‘My Wonder Wife’ and ‘Amazing Mom’ told Kasper her family was proud of everything she did.

  One of the pictures she was in a hospital holding an award stating she was volunteer of the year. The other she was with her kids and husband. Kasper opened the cabinet and grabbed that picture.

  “Rachel know you’re taking that stuff?” Yates asked.

  “Dude, you’re supposed to be guarding.”

  “Dude, Zeus is a one man army,” Yates walked toward Kasper. “Where’s Rigs?”

  “Upstairs with Rach. The kids’ rooms.”

  “Ah.” Yates nodded. “What did you take?”

  “I need a box. I’m
not leaving this stuff.” Kasper handed him the picture. “Apparently they were all there when she got that.”

  “Rachel is a black belt?” Yates asked shocked, looking at the family photo. “Well, that proves to me a theory I had. That really, it’s not practical. I’ve never seen her use it.”

  “Yeah, me either, probably just an exercise thing.”

  “But this …” Yates reached around Kasper and grabbed a small trophy. “This doesn’t surprise me. First place marksmanship.”

  “All this stuff. It’s a part of Rachel she never shared. I mean, why is she leaving this? Her husband was like mad proud of her. Why does she want to leave some of it behind?”

  “You answered it,” Yates said. “It’s a part of her she doesn’t want to share and … and she doesn’t want to remember. All of this is a reminder of a life she had and lost. This Rachel …” Yates pointed to the cabinet. “Is gone.”

  “You’re right. Still. I’m keeping this.” He lifted the picture, then shut the cabinet. “You know some times, you aren’t that b-bad, you can be n .. nice.”

  “Th-thanks.”

  “Asshole.” Kasper shook his head with a smile and walked away. He paused, looking up the stairs before going outside.

  <><><><>

  Rigs stood in the tiny area at the top of the stairs that separated the two bedrooms. He watched, arms folded, head down, listening to Kasper talk while waiting on Rachel who was in her sons room.

  He didn’t want to rush her or bother her. He had been in that same position. One year after losing his family, he too, went back to his house.

  It brought the feelings of devastation back to the surface; the painful heartache was played out all over again while he tried to figure out what he was going to take and keep. The truth was no number of photos were going to bring them back. It took a couple years before they brought him comfort instead of pain.

  More than anything he wanted to tell Rachel that.

  Like he had done, she sat on the unmade bed, holding a toy in her hand.

  It was a Lego model of a Star Wars ship and she stared at it.

  A bit of dust caused a tickle in his throat and despite trying to stifle it, he coughed.

  “You don’t have to stand out there,” Rachel said.

  “I don’t want to intrude or bother you.”

  “You’re not a bother, Rigs. Come in.”

  Rigs walked into the bedroom. “He kept his room neat.”

  “Yeah, he did. He used to lecture us on how to load the dishwasher.” Rachel chuckled.

  “Smart kid.”

  “He was. But different, you know.” She handed him the Lego model. “Brad loved his Legos.”

  “All boys do. No matter how old.” Rigs sat on the bed next to her.

  “How did you decide?” Rachel asked. “How did you decide what to take?”

  “I took some pictures and a couple things like this.” He touched the model. “The rest. I hired a moving company, boxed everything and stuck it in storage. It’s still in that storage unit.”

  “That was smart. You can go back anytime,” Rachel said.

  “And so can you. Rach, you don’t need to pick and choose what part of your life was worthy enough to take with you. This is going nowhere. We can come back anytime. It’s not like you’re selling it or new tenants are moving in.”

  “Is that why you put everything in storage?” Rachel asked. “Because you sold the house.”

  “Oh, hell no. I used the insurance money to pay off the mortgage and then I had the house torn down. I never wanted to see it again. The house murdered my family. At least in my mind that was the case. So I tore it down and sold the lot.”

  “Do you ever regret it?”

  “Sometimes. You know, it’s okay to feel sad. It’s okay to cry.”

  Rachel chuckled sadly. “I cried enough. It’s just a private thing.”

  “I get that.”

  “Plus … crying is for the living. When you cry, you cry over your own losses. It’s not bringing anyone back.”

  “Nothing brings them back.”

  “Unless they’re the undead.”

  “True.”

  “Well …” Rachel reached behind her and pulled forward a backpack. She took the model and placed it inside, then stood. “I’m done.”

  “Are you sure.”

  “I’m positive.” She shouldered the bag. “I have what I want to take. And like you said, I can come back.”

  “Absolutely.”

  She stepped from the room, pausing on that little landing. She gazed into Sami’s room, standing there for a moment in reflection before taking a deep breath and walking down the stairs.

  “I’m ready,” she said when she hit the bottom of the staircase.

  Kasper turned around. “Dude, like this is a shrine to your accomplishments. Your husband was proud.”

  “He was corny. None of that was worth making that big of a deal out of. I’m ready to go.” She walked to the door and opened it.

  Once outside, she and Rigs paused when they saw the small mound of bodies. She glanced to Rigs. “They were Eliminating.”

  “That’s our job. Did you want to stay for the night in the neighborhood?” Rigs asked.

  “No.” Rachel shook her head. “Let’s make some distance, stop for the night and get to Galena in the morning.”

  “Sounds good.” Rigs whistled once to catch Zeus’ attention as he stood on the porch of the house next door. “Hey, we’re headed out.”

  Zeus gave a thumbs up. Clearly he was spray painting the E marking. In fact, when Rigs looked around, nearly every home in the cul-de-sac had been marked. After finishing, he made his way to them.

  “We’re not staying?” Zeus asked. “I cleared the street.”

  “We’re gonna go,” Rigs said. “But good job.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Rach,” Kasper called out. “I locked your back door. Do you want this closed and locked?”

  “Yes, please, thanks,” Rachel replied, then looked to Zeus. “Can I have that?” She pointed to the spray paint.

  “Sure.” He handed it over.

  “I’ll be right back.” Rachel shook the can as she walked to the door.

  Kasper stepped aside.

  Using the wall space next to the front door, Rachel painted an E. She put the unit and division code down as well. Then before she stepped back, she gave it a personal touch. Perhaps her way of making a memorial or leaving a part of herself there. She painted a heart around the E. At the bottom she painted an X and O, and the word ‘mom’. The she turned, stepped off the porch, handed the can to Zeus and saying no more, got into the EPEV.

  THIRTEEN – FLOOD GATES

  April 22 – Day 368

  Center City, WV

  Carson had been in the navy two years before the outbreak. Fairly new in the military, yet enough experience to be handed a weapon after the world went to shit and started to rebuild. Carson wasn’t old, in fact he just turned old enough to legally drink when it all went down. How so many survived was still beyond his comprehension.

  The virus spread fast and all those that died turned at once. Now it seemed as if those who were asymptomatic were turning at the same time in large numbers.

  Until everyone that carried it was either cured or dead, sadly the world would not return to normal. No matter how hard they tried.

  Center City was a different entity. One of six safe cities in the area; it, like the others, was easily barricaded. The only problem with that, while there were few ways to enter, it also meant there were very few ways to get out.

  Progress to return to normalcy had made great leaps and bounds, even if at times it was a façade.

  Carson was on early shift. The sun wasn’t even up yet when he arrived at his post. It was an important post. There were six bridges over the Kanawha River that connected the west to Center City. Two of them remained. The others purposely destroyed. One bridge was a check point and the other was closest to t
he area that held the Asymptomatic research, testing and holding facility.

  The Thirty-Eighth street bridge was barricaded by a fence and vehicles placed in front. Nothing ever really happened there. A straggler undead here and there. For that reason, only four soldiers took post each shift.

  He could hear the sound of music, something old and eighties playing as he stepped on the bridge.

  Only two were there when Carson arrived. They were some fifty feet before the barricade, playing poker on a card table set up. The music, Carson figured, came from the jeep parked near them.

  “Where are the others?” Carson asked.

  “They went home about twenty minutes ago,” the solder answered. “It was quiet and we knew one of you’d show up soon.”

  “I’m here,” Carson said.

  “Early, too,” the soldier added. “As soon as someone else shows, one of us can leave.”

  Carson nodded and took a step to the jeep. The wind blew and he caught the scene of the dead. “You guys don’t smell that?”

  One of the cardplaying soldiers shrugged. “Once in a while. It’s coming from the river.”

  “Smells close,” Carson said.

  “The rivers close.”

  “No, I mean closer than usual.” Carson found the music annoying and distracting. They weren’t supposed to be playing it at all, but he wouldn’t say anything to command. He reached inside the jeep and shut off the music.

  “Hey!” one soldier yelled. “We were listening.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Dick.”

  Growl.

  And it wasn’t just one.

  It carried like a choir of an unintelligible mesh of voices harmonizing in a demented way.

  One of the soldiers jumped up from his seat, knocking over the chair.

  Carson, remaining calm, reached into the jeep, turned on the spotlight and turned it to aim in the direction of the barricade.

  He didn’t flinch, he should have.

  Packed against the fence like sardines was an enormous hoard of the undead. All snapping their jaws, pushing on the fence and trying to reach through.