by Brown, TW
When it was finally done, Jamie stepped back up to the microphone. All eyes were locked onto her. Many were red-rimmed or still in the act of shedding tears.
“Just before this meeting was called, there was an incident out on the highway. The military was already there and trying to deal with the situation. That tells me that this is not only worse than anybody in charge is saying, but also that it has come to South Carolina. We can’t sit here and wait, that has never been the way of the people of this great state. Right or wrong, we have been leaders, not followers.
“I will be returning to city hall after this meeting to start making preparations to secure this town. My first priority is to all of you. Unfortunately, there is simply nothing in the books about how to prepare for what might actually be the zombie apocalypse.
“This might seem ridiculous, but I am asking for any of you that might be…” Jamie paused, this was the part she had struggled with. She didn’t want to alienate the very people that she needed most at this moment. “I am asking for those of you who may have been fans of this sort of thing to come forward. I believe that there are those of you here that are fans of zombie movies, novels, and comic books. Chances are, you have sat around with friends and discussed what you would do in this situation. Right now, I am not lying or over-exaggerating when I say that there are no bad ideas. We will have to come together, and this plan is not going to be conventional in the slightest.”
She paused and looked up from her script and notes to see the reactions in the faces of her people. The expressions varied, but the one thing she did not see was a look of disbelief or even the slightest doubt. Despite how fantastic this scenario seemed, she had shown them that it was very real.
The A/V team had managed to come up with a copy of the news report out of Greenville where that one reporter had died. She hadn’t asked how because she had tried to find it on the internet right after the station went off the air and come up with absolutely nothing—more proof in her mind that the government did know what was happening, at least to some extent, and were doing their best to hide it from the American people. Seeing this in someplace like Tokyo might be one thing, but to have seen that clip from just up the highway in Greenville was another matter entirely.
“I am going to ask all of you to return home and begin finding things that can be used as weapons. I can confirm that, just as in the movies, a head shot is the only way to put one of these things down. I can also tell you that it seems as if the bite is the way the infection spreads. Less than three hours ago, a spokesperson from the CDC denied that this was possible. You have seen for yourselves that this is very real. We are faced with the possibility of the entire world being wiped out by this. I do not intend for the citizens of Liberty to fall. We will come together and we will stand against this threat.”
A single cheer set off an explosion of echoing cheers and a wave of applause. Jamie waited for it to settle down before continuing.
“When you return home, besides weapons, I think that it is important that you gather all food and be prepared to ration. To prevent a run on the grocery store or any of the markets, I will be creating a team that will head to all locations in Liberty to get full inventories. Also, those of you with gardens, I am going to ask you to help your neighbors. The delivery trucks are probably not coming from this point on and so we need to plan as if we are totally cut off from the rest of the world…and that may actually be the case.”
“Also, despite our holding this meeting in the stadium with a boost from the speakers you see mounted on the stands around you, we believe that sound might be something that attracts these things. That is why you see the armed presence around our perimeter. Also, we will have roving patrols and if you feel like you can be a help in that department, we could really use your help.”
Once again Jamie paused. She hoped that this message was sinking in. She needed everybody to be on the same page. She’d already called the manager over at Ingles Markets. That conversation had been much easier than she had anticipated. Of course it helped that the manager had been watching the news in his office just before her call. He’d seen the situation in Greenville. He had already closed the doors and said he would ask for all of his employees to return immediately after the mayor’s speech to help with writing down every single item in the store.
She had no idea how long the power grid would hold, but the window was probably a lot closer to being closed than she would like. They needed to do whatever they could to find a way to extend the life of perishables.
“I know all of you probably have questions, and I wish that I could take the time to address them all, but I think we need to start acting now. Every minute is precious, and we won’t have nearly as long as we think before things go very badly. We need to come together and be a source of strength for each other. I am afraid that the trials ahead will push us beyond what we ever dreamed possible. No matter your beliefs, I will pray for us all, and ask for God to watch over us in what will very definitely be our greatest hours of need.”
Another even more thunderous round of applause followed Jamie as she stepped away from the microphone. Chief Gilstrap was waiting for her and fell in by her side as they walked to the car. Mr. Deese and his wife stood beside it. The four climbed in, Jamie and the chief sitting in front.
She waited for the comments, questions, or perhaps criticism that she had convinced herself would follow. None came. The foursome drove to city hall in silence. Later, she would reflect on that drive and cherish those few moments of peace and quiet. It would be a long time before she had any of those sorts of moments again.
***
“I know what you said about no bad ideas, but that kid is barely fourteen years old,” Chief Gilstrap argued.
Jamie sat back in her chair and regarded the man over steepled fingers that she rested against her bottom lip. They’d been at this all day. She was exhausted. If she looked anything close to how the chief looked, then she had to be an absolute fright. Just that thought made her brush her hands through her hair.
“He has some very good ideas,” Jamie said as she stretched and cast a longing glance at her empty coffee cup. “Sure, a few of them are a bit silly, but he does make one very good point that all of the adults have missed up to this juncture.” She arched an eyebrow at the chief and then spun her chair to look at the map of Liberty that was tacked up onto the wall.
Chief Gilstrap moved up and leaned against the edge of her desk as he studied the map as well. He traced his finger along a route and then pursed his lips.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Jamie insisted.
“Tell that to the people who have to leave their homes.”
“It isn’t going to happen overnight. But something tells me that the next time some of those things show up, folks are going to—” She didn’t get to finish her sentence before the door flew open and a handful of heavily armed men entered.
“We have a bunch of them coming in from the woods just past the baseball field at the elementary school.” The man who spoke had his left arm wrapped in a heavy bandage.
“What happened to your arm?” the chief asked, sounding much calmer than Jamie felt.
“Somebody…” The wounded man let that word hang in the air. One of the other men dropped his head; the others sort of took an involuntary step back as they distanced themselves from the apparent offender. “Somebody was a bit trigger happy.”
“Mayor Burns, I think that you might need to issue a warning to the citizens about guns being a last resort,” Chief Gilstrap said as he glared at the man who continued to stare at the floor. “Scared citizens and an enemy that pretty much looks like one of us…hell, used to be one of us…that is a lethal mix waiting for bad things to happen.”
“And I guess that moves up the list of things we need to figure out,” Jamie replied with a laugh that sounded a bit too sarcastic than she’d intended. “We are already unable to use our phones. They may come back, and there may still be peri
ods where we get spotty service, but we obviously can’t count on them. We need to be able to communicate with each other.”
“Well, maybe one of those folks out in the lobby has the answer,” Chief Gilstrap said as he started herding the group of men back out the door. “You are going to have to deal with this on your own for a while. I am going to head over to the elementary school and see to this new problem.”
The door shut and Jamie fell back in her chair, sighing heavily. She’d only been out of her office a couple of times in the past ten hours; zombie apocalypse or not, a girl had to answer nature’s call when it came.
“Howard, why did you have to go and die?” She looked over at the picture on the wall of the man who she had replaced. Getting out of her chair, she walked over to the photo and brushed it with her fingers. “I bet you would have a plan in motion and already be at home sitting down to dinner with the wife.” She wiped the tears that welled up and flowed over the cusps of her eyes. “I don’t think I can do this…I don’t think I am the right one to lead these people through a zombie apocalypse.”
“I bet you never thought those words would come out of your mouth,” a friendly voice said from behind her.
Jamie turned to see Sophie standing just inside the door. Thankfully, she had shut it behind her after coming in.
“How much did you hear,” Jamie sniffed, wiping away the last of the tears.
“Enough to know that you are just as scared as the rest of us.” Sophie crossed the room and hugged Jamie. The two women stood that way for a moment. At last, Sophie broke the silence. “You are doing fine. You already have the entire town mobilizing.”
“And apparently shooting each other.” Jamie could not hold back a bitter laugh. “The zombies won’t have to kill us, we’ll take care of it for them.”
“This town needs somebody to rely on. They need a leader that will keep them moving and doing everything they can to survive.” Sophie took a step back and held Jamie at arm’s length.
“Maybe the chief is better—”
“No!” Sophie snapped. “He is a great person, an excellent police officer. But this town needs somebody that can listen, plan, and then encourage others to act. I heard what that last boy proposed, he was talking about it before he came in to pitch it to you. I also heard the chief shutting it down before the poor boy was out your door. He isn’t going to listen to anything off the wall, and I believe that it is just that sort of idea that will save us.”
“You really think I can do this?” Jamie asked meekly, but feeling a bit of encouragement flow into her and refresh the resolve she felt in regards to saving the town.
“I know you can.”
“Thanks, Sophie.” Jamie returned to her desk and took a seat, adjusting herself so that she was sitting up straight with her hands folded in front of her. “Go ahead and send in the next one.”
“Right away, Mayor Burns.”
6
From Bad to Worse
“Please, mama, help me, for the love of God!” Jared Crawford’s voice went higher and higher as he begged for a mercy that would not come.
Chief Adam Gilstrap would have ended the man’s suffering if he weren’t up against the ropes himself at the moment—figuratively speaking of course. Ducking under the outstretched arms of the zombie in a soldier’s uniform, he kicked out sideways and took at least a little bit of pleasure in the satisfying crack as the knee buckled inwards in a direction that it was most certainly never designed to go.
On the plus side, it dropped the zombie to the ground as its leg would no longer hold the weight of the body. On the negative, now the damned thing was crawling towards him and trying desperately to get its groping fingers on the chief’s ankles. He swung the machete sideways and buried it in the side of the head of the female zombie that was just about to lean down and take a bite out of his forearm. Jerking free of her slacking grip, he stomped down on the hand that was about to grab his left ankle and then jerked his machete free of the woman’s head as the corpse fell to the ground—all in a fluid series of motions.
He shoved the closest zombie to him into the trio that was right on its heels. That did not quite have the effect he’d hoped for and only the one that had been shoved and the scrawny looking girl-zombie almost directly behind it were knocked back enough to make a difference. Still, it was enough for him to move sideways past the fallen tree that had been between him and poor Jared Crawford.
The man was no longer screaming, and his legs were barely twitching when Chief Gilstrap approached from behind the five zombies that were all on the ground, ripping bits and pieces of the poor young man from his middle. One of the zombies that was actually facing in the chief’s direction lifted its head to regard the approaching intruder. It apparently did not feel the need to stop shoving what looked like a long strand of misshapen sausages into its mouth and bite down. The brownish sludge that trickled down its chin as it chewed told the chief that those were likely Jared’s intestines.
“So nasty,” he breathed as he moved in behind the trio that had their back to him.
Using his belt knife, he drove the point of the blade upwards at the base of the skull, yanked free, and repeated the move as quickly as possible. He reached across and stuck that same knife into the open and emotionless left eye of the intestine muncher and then finished the fifth and final zombie in the same way.
Looking down, he saw the ruins of Jared Crawford’s body. The young man’s huge belly had been ripped open and blood was everywhere along with a variety of what remained of Jared’s insides. Jared had been the fire house Santa for the past four years, stepping in on short notice and to honor his dad who had passed away suddenly from a heart attack just days before the Christmas holiday. All he’d had to do was get a can of that special paint for spraying his hair and beard silver. He’d been a good boy with an easy smile and a kind word for anybody he passed on the street.
Kneeling beside Jared, Chief Gilstrap drove the tip of his knife into the boyishly youthful face before one of those crystal blue eyes opened to reveal that horrible film and the black tracers. He looked up as footsteps approached and winced when he saw the third zombie child he’d encountered during this hellish melee.
The child had just stepped past a tree and spotted him. Once again the chief had a difficult time reconciling the behavior that he was witnessing. Unlike any regular zombie (a phrase that would strike him as funny if he had the chance to think about it), the children seemed to hesitate. Once, a little girl of perhaps nine or ten had actually tried to turn around and move away from him. There was something peculiar about the child version of the zombie, but for the life of him, he could not understand it. Just then, two more of the adult zombies stepped up beside the child and pushed past. As soon as they spotted him, he was out of time to observe. It was time to return to the gruesome business of killing.
He checked to his left and saw three more of his men locked in battle with at least a dozen more of the things, but it was now looking as if this might be the last of this little mob or herd or what-the-hell ever you called a large group of zombies. To the right, he saw a lone straggler. He considered letting it go until the larger group was dealt with and quickly vetoed that idea. If he lost track of it and it got into town, anybody hurt or killed by that thing would add to the weight already on his shoulders.
After one more glance to ensure that none of the other men were about to suffer Jared’s fate, he stalked over to the zombie, machete at the ready. As he approached, something started to nag at him. Two steps later, he froze in his tracks.
He recognized this zombie. At least he was pretty certain that he recognized him. Moving around so that he could get in front of it, he got a better look that confirmed his suspicions.
“Son of a bitch,” he breathed.
Now he was certain of this man’s identity. He was staring at the zombie incarnation of Deputy Mark Reilly. He knew the man from just up the road in nearby Pickens. In fact, one of the first
things he was planning on doing was trying to reach the Pickens Police Department and warn them.
And now…
“This is worse than we thought,” a voice said from behind Chief Gilstrap as he was just about to end the zombie version of the Pickens deputy.
He turned to see his men coming through the woods. All of them were splattered with the blood and gore of the battle. He finished the grim task of putting down Deputy Reilly and was wiping off his blade when something about one of the men caught his eye.
“Jeff, can you step over here,” the chief said, doing his best not to sound like he was about to explode from the frustration that was building exponentially with every new horrible discovery.
The man edged past the others looking both confused and concerned. As soon as he stepped into a beam of sun that was fighting to get through the canopy of trees overhead, Chief Adam Gilstrap winced as if he’d just been punched in the gut.
“Did you get bit by one of them things?” the chief asked, his eyes scanning the man for any sign of an injury. Unfortunately, the man was splattered with so much blood that it would be impossible to tell.
“No, sir,” the man replied. He obviously picked up on the concern in the chief’s voice because he began searching himself frantically.
“Just take it easy, son.” Chief Gilstrap reached into his years of training and dialed in the voice he used when talking to an accident victim. “I just want you to be still. We’ll get you back to town and get you cleaned up. Then we—”
“Jeff’s one of them things!” Isaiah Newkirk practically screamed as he backed away from Jeff while tugging at the field machete that he had been using.
