by Glyn Gardner
They both broke into uncontrollable laughter. He let her hand go and stood up.
“On that note, I’m going for some breakfast. You wanna stay up here and get some more fresh air.” He pointed east. The horizon was lit in a beautiful orange and blue.
“Go eat honey,” she chuckled. “Send my real husband up here for a little romantic sunrise.”
He climbed down the stairs and was met by Duke. The big German shepherd gave his a hand a sniff. A few tail wags and a lick to his hand later, and SSgt Brown was allowed to pass. It seemed to SSgt Brown that Duke had taken it upon himself to become the protector of the group.
“So what do you think?” he asked the massive dog. “Is it time to move out, or do we stick around a bit longer?” The dog cocked his head to the side, ears perked for just a moment. Then he turned and walked away.
“Thanks for the advice,” he chuckled.
In the reception area, he found the rest of the group eating breakfast. Mike gave him a questioning look and shrugged his shoulders. SSgt Brown gave a small nod and a smile. Mike accepted that and continued eating.
After breakfast, SSgt Brown called a meeting of those he was coming to think of as his senior leaders: Mike, Jen, Sgt Procell, and Mrs. Arrington. He sat behind the vet’s desk looking at his people.
“Ok guys,” he began. “We have some decisions to make. First is food and water. We’re getting low on both. So, we either send out a foraging party or two, or we pack up and leave. I have my thoughts, but I want to hear yours.”
Mrs. Arrington was the first to speak. “Well, if we leave, I’d like to find more transportation. Let’s keep in mind we’re here because one of the kids fell out of the back of that truck. We need to find more transportation like a bus or van or something. I say we stay until that’s cleared up.”
Mike spoke next. “If we can locate a few stores close, we could forage from them as needed and stay as long as we need to. The building is secure and we hardly ever see any zombies running around here. I don’t see a reason to leave at all.”
Sgt Procell, a native of North Carolina spoke up. “We can’t stay here forever. This place is short on zombies, but it’s also a damned desert. If we find few stores around here, we’re gonna clear them out in a relatively short time. There’s no source of fresh water close. It’s still warm outside with long days. In a few weeks that’s going to change. If we’re gonna travel, we need to do it now, not later when we’re desperate.”
“There are only 18 of us,” Mike shot back. “We can make a run and fill up that military truck. One load of that should keep us going for weeks. We make five or six runs and we’d be good for the winter.”
Jen finally spoke up. “What then Mike?”
“What do you mean what then?” He paused. “You mean after the winter? We’re fine here. Why does everyone want to abandon this place? This is the safest we’ve been all month. It’s safer than our house. It’s safer than Willie’s house was. It’s a hell of a lot safer than running between stores with glass fronts and sitting on top of overpasses. I mean WE STAY HERE AND WAIT FOR THE FUCKING CAVALRY!”
“You know we can’t stay here forever, honey. As far as we know, right now, there isn’t a cavalry. From the looks of things, we’re on our own.”
SSgt Brown stood for effect. “I agree. Sorry Mike, but if we stay here, we’ll starve by next summer. We have to move. I also agree with Mrs. Arrington. We can’t travel far with what we have. We need more wheels.”
He sat back down and pulled a piece of paper from the vet’s printer, and began writing.
“Ok, so we need vehicles. At least 2 more if they’re large; bus, van, even a panel van would be ok. We need more gas, food and water.”
He looked to Mrs. Arrington. “I was thinking about arming the kids.”
“Are you serious?” she shot back angrily. “Absolutely not, I will not have a half dozen preteens walking around with guns. Let’s remember this is a science club, not the local 4H.”
“I wasn’t talking about guns,” he replied calmly. “I was thinking more like hammers and sharpened broom handles or something. Like a spear levy. I don’t want them out hunting zombies in their spare time, but I do want them to be able to defend themselves if the shit hits the fan.”
She nodded. “I guess I can agree to that. I think something like spears would work. Easy to use, has some range. I guess.”
“How about pitchforks?” Sgt Procell interjected. “Seems like they’d be long, tough and three points would be better than one I would think.”
“Ok,” SSgt Brown announced. “We send out foraging parties today. Sgt. Procell you take your engineers, Mike, Kerry, and the LMTV. You’re looking for class one, two, and three, as well as more transport. Jackson will take Mrs. Arrington, Theresa, and the Humvee. You guys are also looking for food, tools and gas. If you find a suitable vehicle, grab it. If not, just what the Hummer will carry.
“Sgt Procell, head north along this road,” he pointed at a map on the table. “Don’t push out any farther than this town here. Mrs. Arrington, you folks go south along this road, no farther than here. Get what you can, then come back here.” They got up to leave.
“Oh,” SSgt Brown added. “I don’t need to say it, but grab any class five you can get.” He looked at Mike and Jen. “That’s ammo to you guys. Don’t pass up on ammo if you find it.”
Mrs. Arrington walked to the citadel; collected Pvt Jackson and Theresa.
“We’re going to head south to Quitman. We’ll use this road to skirt around Ruston. We’re after gas, food, water, and anything that might be used as a weapon. So, auto parts stores, grocery, and hardware stores. Sgt Procell’s guys are going north in the big truck.”
Joe Torres watched from the tree line about 3 football fields away as the two vehicles drove off in separate directions. He started to get up when Allen placed a hand on his shoulder. He pointed at the roof of the vet clinic. There on the roof was a tall soldier walking the roof again. Joe wondered if this was the same one he saw on the roof when the sun came up.
Joe and Allen had been watching this building for a couple of days now. The two took turns sleeping and watching. That’s the way Thor had wanted it.
Joe had found people here about five days ago. He and Allen had almost given themselves away when Allen noticed the military vehicles parked in front of the clinic’s only door. It was only then that they noticed the guard pacing the roof. At that time they didn’t know who the interlopers were or how many of them there were.
Joe had reported his finding to Thor. From that point on, Joe and Allen had been reassigned from foraging duty to spy duty. Over the past few days, they had been able to count four different soldiers walking the roof and two other civilians. Thor sent The Rabbit out three times a day to bring Allen and Joe food and get their report.
Joe thought he had a handle on their numbers. But, this morning changed that. He counted four soldiers and four civilians leaving in the military vehicles. The guy on the roof makes nine. Is he alone? Are there others inside?
Suddenly, he felt more than heard movement behind him. He turned just as Allen thrust his spear into the zombie’s face. The creature immediately went limp, pulling Allen’s spear from his hand as it fell. The bigger man shoved a booted foot onto the zombie’s chest and yanked the five foot piece of sharpened wood free. The sound of the wood pulling free reverberated in Joe’s ears. He turned to see if the guy on the roof heard it. Nope, he was still just walking the same slow pace.
“When’s The Rabbit due next,” Joe whispered.
Allen looked at his watch. “’Bout 3 hours.”
“Shit, that’s too long.” He looked around. “We have to go tell the boss about this.”
“The fuck we do,” Allen whispered. “The boss said stay here. I’m staying here.”
“Look, those folks are separated. The boss may want to make a move now. Shit, you see they had women right?”
“You saw what happened the last tim
e someone got creative,” replied Allen. “No way dude, that fucker’s crazy. You wanna go, take off. I’m staying right here.”
“C’mon dude,” pleaded the younger man. “You know he’s gonna want to know about this. He’s not gonna get pissed if we bring him back something valuable. You don’t think those chicks would be valuable? And all those GI Joe mother fuckers; you know they got good equipment.”
He pointed to the Taurus revolver on Allen’s hip.
“You rather have that or one of them machine guns they got?”
“Ok, I guess you’re right,” Allen finally conceded. “But, this was your fucking idea. If he throws a fit, you step up and take the blame. Got it?” Joe nodded his head.
The two turned and began a slow jog. A half hour later they stood in front of a wrought iron fence, the gates to Valhalla. Valhalla was actually a two story house surrounded by an eight foot high concrete wall. There was only one way in or out, and that was the wrought iron gate. The wall surrounded about six acres of beautifully tailored gardens and several secluded out buildings.
The compound had been occupied by the man they knew as Thor before the zombies had shown up. Joe had heard rumors that Valhalla had been used to traffic drugs and women into and out of the country. He hadn’t really believed it until he’d wandered into the basement of the little pink guest house.
There he found six heavy wooden doors on both sides of a short hallway. Each room contained a single mattress, a wash basin with towels, and another basin that smelled of piss and shit. The walls of several of the rooms were also splattered in blood. Joe wasn’t sure if Thor’s people had killed the human cargo there or they had popped a few zombies. He didn’t want to know, so he never asked.
“What are you two doing back,” asked Lurch. Joe saw that the 6 foot 2 inch guard’s finger was on the trigger of his AK-47. Joe knew the wrong answer would get him killed.
“The folks at the vet clinic are moving and we needed to tell Thor,” Joe answered. “It couldn’t wait.” He could feel his stomach churning and his palms sweat. Lurch was one of Thor’s guys from before the zombies. Joe had witnessed him shoot two of the less reliable survivors in Valhalla.
“Ok,” replied Lurch as he unlocked the gate.
The two men walked hurriedly to the main house. This was where Thor held court. They found him sitting in a leather swivel chair behind a large oak desk. A road map of the area was laid out on the table. Several areas of the map were marked in a red box or circle. Joe knew these were areas deemed too over-run by zombies. Thor called them red zones.
Thor looked up from the map. Joe could see the anger in his eyes. “What the fuck,” he asked. “I thought I told you gentlemen to stay put.”
Joe tried to speak. His mouth was so dry and his voiced cracked as he tried. Allen, realizing that Thor was growing angrier by the minute, spoke up.
“They split up,” he blurted. Slow down Allen. Explain it calmly. “They sent a group north and a group south.” He pointed at the map.
“Ok, how many?”
“Five went north in the big truck, and three went south in the Hummer,” Allen answered.
“So, all eight left? Did it look like they were coming back?” he asked.
Joe finally found his voice. “They still have a guard on the roof,” he blurted out.
“I thought you said there were only eight,” accused Thor. “Doesn’t three plus five plus one equal nine?”
Neither one could speak. They just gave a collective nod.
“So, if you two retards can’t even count to ten, how the fuck can I trust anything else you’ve told me?”
“They’re inside of a building without windows,” Allen replied. He immediately regretted his tone.
“Then you’re useless to me,” Thor announced. BANG!
Before Joe knew what had happened, Poncho Villa had pulled out a chrome plated dessert eagle and fired. Allen crumpled to the floor, the red mist of his brains splattering Joe, and the wall to his right.
“Now fuck head,” Thor started. “You had better give me something that I can use, or you’re next.”
Joe was frozen in fear. His ears were still ringing from the gunshot. He could feel a warm, wet sensation down his leg.
“There’s women!”
“What?” asked Thor. He signaled Poncho Villa to lower his gun.
“The…the…there are women. Two went south with the black soldier and one went north with the other three soldiers.”
Thor thought for a minute. He looked at the blood on the wall. There are only two women here in Valhalla. Both were part of his last shipment. Both were young and pretty. There were definitely more men than women in Valhalla. They could use some fresh blood. The men were getting tired of the same two girls. Plus, with all the afterhours work the men required of them, the cleaning and cooking was starting to lack.
“Show me on the map which way they went,” he barked. The younger man did as he was told, thankful he was still alive.
Ten miles south of the vet clinic
Jackson and Theresa stacked on the left side of the door, while Mrs. Arrington was to the right. One last look to the rear by Mrs. Arrington and a thumbs up by Jackson, she pulled down on the handle, and pushed. The door to the hardware store opened with a quiet squeak.
Jackson peeled left as Theresa continued moving towards the right corner a few steps, followed by Mrs. Arrington. From the entrance, the store appeared empty. The group regrouped to move down the aisles. Mrs. Arrington made it clear that this was an in-and-out operation. Three minutes she announced to them in the Humvee.
Aisle three contained the gardening tools. They found several shovels, a pick ax, and two axes. Mrs. Arrington picked up the pick ax and handed it to Theresa.
“Here honey,” she ordered. “Hit the top part of that weed eater with this.” Theresa swung the heavy pick, missing the weed eater, and knocking the metal divider from the shelving
“That’s kind of what I thought,” she said. “Here, try it with the ax.”
Theresa swung the ax as ordered. This time she missed the motor of the weed eater, hitting about six inches down the shaft.
“Here try hitting this box,” she quickly ordered. Theresa swung again, this time catching the bottom corner with the axe, causing the box to tumble, half broken, from the shelf.
“I was afraid of this,” Mrs. Arrington announced. “These things are too heavy for the children to use. You’re older than they are and can’t hit a box that’s not moving.”
“I could try it again,” the girl interrupted. “I just need some practice. I could…” Theresa suddenly stopped, raising the axe above her head. A look of fear crossed her face.
It took Mrs. Arrington and Jackson a few seconds to realize what was happening. At first the teacher thought that the girl was going to hit her with the ax. She ducked to her right, falling as she did. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a pair of blood covered work boots.
She realized what was happening at the same time she heard the wet crunching sound. Theresa had brought the ax down in an overhead chop. The zombie fell to the ground with the ax still buried to the handle in its forehead. Theresa stuck her foot into the zombie’s chest and freed the ax, bits of brain and black gore dripping from it.
“Where the hell did he come from?” asked the teacher.
Jackson held a single finger up to his lips. He could hear the shuffling of feet. He tried to count them: Nope, too many. He tried to discern direction: all around. He shrugged his shoulders, and made a circle in the air with his finger. The meaning was clear to the two women. I don’t know, but they’re everywhere.
Mrs. Arrington pulled her pistol from her holster. Jackson shook his head, no. He pointed to the ax Theresa was holding. Mrs. Arrington and Jackson each grabbed a shovel. Jackson slowly stood, looking over the shelves as he did. He could see at least four zombies on the aisle to their left and three a couple of aisles to the right.
“Follow me,” he whispere
d as he moved. The women did.
As he rounded the corner, he realized he had grossly underestimated the numbers of zombies in the store. There were four females and two children advancing towards them. The closest was almost within arm’s reach.
Jackson took two steps back and brought the edge of the shovel down on the zombie’s head. He could feel the child’s skull crunch under the blow. The zombie crumpled to the white tile floor.
Theresa and Mrs. Arrington lunged forward, dispatching two more zombies. Jackson thrust his shovel towards the face of the forth zombie. The zombie’s head snapped back with a crunching sound. It fell to the ground limp, jaw still snapping at its attacker.
Theresa turned just as two more zombies rounded the corner behind them. One was a large man, the other another child. Both were covered in blood of their latest victims. She hit the man with her ax in the neck. He fell backwards still moving. He was down, but not out. She spun and kicked the child zombie in the chest, sending it skittering across the floor.
“We’ve got to move,” she barked. She heard a scream behind her. She turned to see Mrs. Arrington being pulled off her feet by a zombie. Jackson and another zombie were grappling over his shovel. He couldn’t help.
Theresa half raised, half swung her ax down on the zombie’s head. The ax connected with the front of the zombie’s head in a downward motion, slicing its face cleanly off. The attack stopped. Theresa quickly dispatched the zombie that Jackson was struggling with.
“Let’s go!” She wasn’t even trying to be quiet anymore. “Get up! We have to move.”
Mrs. Arrington was visibly shaking. She wasn’t focusing. She was frozen.
“Jackson,” Theresa barked. “Get her. I’ll get the stuff.”
Jackson reached down and picked Mrs. Arrington up in a fireman’s carry. Theresa picked up the shovels and axes. Outside, it was quiet. Jackson and Theresa ran to the HMMWV. Jackson placed a still dazed Mrs. Arrington in the backseat. Theresa threw the tools into the back of the vehicle then climbed in herself. Jackson floored it, heading north.
“I think we’re good for today, how ‘bout you?” asked Jackson.
