by Glyn Gardner
Although the food was great, it wasn’t the real score. In the backyard they found a large barn. They could still hear the mooing of the cows. The cows were all emaciated from weeks without food. Many were dead in their pens. Mike and Jen let those that were still alive out of the barn to fend for themselves.
The cows, however, were not the score. The real score was the stall in the barn that Mr. Johnson had been using to inoculate and treat his cows. In a refrigerator, that felt reasonably cool to Jen, they found several vials of Penicillin G. Jen wasn’t 100 percent sure, but she thought Penicillin G was the same thing as Bicillin. She had given Bicillin a thousand times in the ER. There were other vials in the room, but most she did not recognize. She decided against anything she didn’t know for certain was safe for humans.
“So, what did we learn today?” asked Frank, as he pulled the SUV out of the driveway.
“There are other survivors around her looting all the good stuff,” Jen said.
“And they mark the houses they’ve decided were too dangerous,” Kerry added as she scowled at Jen.
“Jen can’t handle a 110 pound zombie teenager,” Mike added. They all chuckled.
“I would like to know who’s out here,” Frank said. “I know most of the folks in this part of the parish, and if they’re alive, it would be nice to bring them in.”
“What if they don’t want to come in?” Mike asked.
Frank hadn’t thought about that. Most of the people he’d seen from the time this began to now had wanted to band together. He hadn’t thought about someone who might want to go it alone.
“I guess we respect their wishes.”
“Touché,” Mike answered.
Day 24
15 miles west of the Mississippi River
The first rays of sunlight began to shine over the horizon. Shane knew that it was time to wake the big soldier up. The three men had split the guard shifts last night. Shane had been awake for the past three hours. Thankfully, those hours had been uneventful.
The house had truly been a God send. Not only had they found a safe place to sleep for the night, but they also found a medicine cabinet full of over the counter medications, including several different anti-inflammatory meds. He’d taken a large dose with dinner last night and another large dose when he was awakened for guard duty. His feet felt so much better this morning.
They’d also found a cupboard full of dry food. They ate like kings on canned peaches, cold rice, cold chicken noodle soup, and Oreos. They had even found a case of sodas. They were warm, but Shane was a bit of a soda-holic. He drank two with his dinner. They also found a couple of key rings in the house. Several of the keys looked as if they would fit the grey Dodge. He closed his eyes in a silent prayer that the Dodge worked and could get them to the river.
Shane’s mind wandered to the previous day. The horde of zombies dogging them for hours and the sudden run in at the edge of the woods sent a shiver down his back. He knew things were bad, but most of the people in Captain Reynolds’s group had been spared the horror of coming face to face with the walking dead. They had been rounded up and protected behind tall, brick walls at the first sign of trouble.
Yeah, the dead were there. He’d see them when they would shuffle up to the station. But that was different. They were down there on the ground or outside. He was never part of the hose crew that took care of the monsters. Somehow they weren’t as scary to him. They were separated or distant. The thought of living in a world covered in zombies was not as terrifying as actually coming face-to-face with one.
His thoughts wandered to his traveling companions. They were strangers. Oh, he thought he knew Ms Hebert. But he really didn’t. He had always thought she was just this stuck up, angry, prissy woman. Between the stories she told in the HMMWV and how she handled herself in the fights, he realized she was more than that.
Then there were the two soldiers. Both seemed very confident and competent. He could see that both of them cared very deeply for the people they arrived with. The older one, Staff Sergeant Brown, was a little quieter and seemed more reserved than the younger one. He was a thinker. His mind seemed to always be in motion. He reminded Shane of a teacher he’d had once. The image of the big NCO sitting in a high-backed chair, army uniform and boots on, book in hand, pipe in his mouth flashed into Shane’s head.
He chuckled at the thought. Master Piece Theater presents the Great Louisiana Zombie Slaughter. I’m your host Staff Sergeant Brown. Today our heroes will go toe-to-toe with another horde of walking dead. Join us as we find out who lives and… The smile left his face as the rest of the sentence formed in his mind. Not me, he thought. Not today.
He walked quietly to the big NCO and shook him gently awake. Several minutes later, everyone was awake. A quick breakfast of spam, tuna, dry cereal, and more warm sodas and the group was ready to go. Sgt Procell grabbed a pillowcase off of one of the beds upstairs and loaded it with some food and soda cans. He made Ms. Hebert promise to grab it if they had to bail out of the truck again.
The Fire Station
Jackson walked into the makeshift infirmary without his ACU jacket. He felt immensely better this morning. His fever had broken over night and the abscess under his arm was not nearly as tender as it was yesterday. Jen looked up from the book she had been studying. Jackson saw the title: Pre-hospital Emergency Care.
“Good morning Private Jackson,” she said with a smile. “You look like a brand new man.”
“Thank you ma’am,” he answered with a bigger smile. “I feel like a new man thanks to that shot you gave me.”
“Here,” Jen began. “Let’s take your temperature. It feels like the fever has broken but let’s check.” She shoved the thermometer in his mouth. 99.2 degrees. Still a little warm, but definitely moving in the right direction.
“Let’s see the arm,” she ordered. He complied. The gauze pad that covered it was still saturated with dark puss. But the abscess itself was much smaller than it was yesterday before they had left. That was the Bicillin working.
She remembered from her ER days that people with strep throat would get either a ten day course of Penicillin or a single shot of Bicillin CR. The CR was for controlled release, meaning it would slowly release into the blood stream over a week or so. To be honest, she wasn’t 100 percent sure that the Bicillin would work. She was hoping that the antibiotic would have a broad enough spectrum to kill whatever was growing under Jackson’s armpit.
“What’s with the book?” the young trooper asked.
“Oh, just boning up on my first responder stuff,” she answered.
“I thought you was an ER nurse. You don’t know all this stuff?”
“Oh, I know most of it, but remember I am used to having all these lab tests, x-rays and don’t forget, ER doctors to help me do my job. These days I don’t have that. I have to do everything based on what my eyes, ears and nose tells me. Like what a paramedic has to do every day. So, I figured I’d try to bone up on primitive medicine.”
“Primitive medicine huh?” Captain Reynolds asked. He was standing in the doorway. “So, we practice primitive medicine?”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” she fumbled. “I mean you guys practice medicine with just your brains. We use every piece of technology in the hospital. It wasn’t an insult,”
“I know. I just like hearing you ER nurses admit that us Neanderthals have brains too.”
She stuck her tongue out and turned back to Jackson. “It looks like you’re on the mend Private Jackson.” She re-bandaged the young soldier’s wound and sent him on his way.
Indira squeezed through the door to the infirmary past Captain Reynolds . She couldn’t see the look on his face, but his neck and shoulders were tensed up. She could tell when she put her hand on his shoulder as she passed.
He shut the door. “You should have asked me before you took one of my people and one of my trucks.”
“Would you have said yes?”
“Absolutely
not.”
“Then she was right,” answered Indira.
“No she wasn’t,” he shot back at the girl
“Yes, she was!” The girl began to yell at the older man. “Frank didn’t hesitate to take her out. She didn’t steal anyone. She asked for help and got it from someone who used to be a public servant.”
“Bullshit!” He yelled back. “She stole a truck, and put one of the people I’m responsible for in danger, without consulting me about it first.”
“She didn’t steal that truck, you moron! It was…”
“It was my fault,” Jen cut the girl off. “I take responsibility here. Just like you are responsible for your group of survivors, I’m also responsible for our people. If we wouldn’t have gotten something for that abscess, Jackson would have eventually turned septic and died.”
“You mean I could have died from this?” asked the young trooper.
“Yes,” Indira added. “When I was on my last shift as an intern, we had a guy come in from down south. He had sliced his leg on some wire that was half-submerged in the swamp. He waited six days until his fever was over 102. His leg was full of pus and red up to his groin. He was septic. I found out from a classmate that he died in the ICU the next day from all the bacteria flowing around in his blood. That could have been you.”
She looked back at Captain Reynolds. He knew he was outnumbered. He simply shook his head, turned and left. Indira was so mad, she couldn’t think straight. These people had saved her. Jackson was there on the roof when they pulled her to safety. She owed these people everything.
“I need some coffee,” she said as she stormed out of the room.
“Could I really have died from this thing Mrs. Jen?”
“Yes, Jackson, you could have. She was right. I’ve seen people come in very sick from infections like this.”
Before she could react, he threw his arms around her neck and squeezed her tightly. She could just barely make out the sound of his thanks whispered into her ears. She could feel tears as they fell on her shoulder.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jen,” as he released the hug. She could tell he was searching for the words. She’d seen it before. Patients and families have a brush with death and they become speechless. They want to show gratitude, but don’t know how.
She guessed it was only fair. She was never good at accepting too much gratitude. She always did what she did for people because it was part of the job. It’s what she did. It’s who she ass. She didn’t do it for the gratitude. She did it because she couldn’t do anything else.
“You’re welcome Jackson,” she told him softly. At that, he pulled on his ACU jacket and strode out of the infirmary.
12 miles west of the Mississippi River
Shane looked at SSgt Brown again for directions. This was the third road they’d turned on that ended in a dead end. Damn it! They had gotten back to Highway 80 and only made it about a mile before they ran into another traffic jam. They’d backtracked and found a road leading north, but didn’t know where it went. Several turns later and they found their first dead end.
To make matters worse, they were running low on gas. The truck had less than a quarter of a tank at the beginning of the day. Now the little yellow fuel light was on and they really hadn’t made any headway.
“This is getting ridiculous,” the older man said. “Pull the truck over here.”
They dismounted. SSgt Brown made sure they had all of the supplies they could carry. He looked to the sky. The weather had cleared and the sun was bright and high in the sky. He looked at his watch: 11:45. This time of year, the sun went down about 7 pm. That meant that they had a good seven hours to reach the river.
He figured they were still between 12 and 15 miles away from the river. On a road march, he could expect his troops to cover those twelve miles in about 3 hours. Unfortunately there were two things he was missing: a nice road and physically fit soldiers. He was going to have to lead these three civilians, one who was constantly slowing them down yesterday, across country to the river. Seven hours seemed about right.
“Ok, we’re humping it.” He pointed to the east. “Sergeant Procell, lead the way. Theresa, you back him up. I’ll bring up the rear. You two stay between us. Stick to a nice easy pace Sergeant. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”
Sgt Procell led them through a small thicket of trees, then into a large open field. The combat engineer in him was already becoming uncomfortable. There were several small groups of dead meandering around in the field. He thought about their trek yesterday, constantly being dogged by an ever-growing horde of undead. A repeat of that act today could pin them against the river.
He looked back to SSgt Brown and pointed an open hand towards the stand of trees to the north that bordered the field. The signal was easy to understand. “Why don’t we stay in the woods and not out in the open?” After an approving nod, he backed into the wood line again, and led the group north.
From behind, Theresa could see the large field and the large amounts of zombies in it. She thought that they would be able to avoid the groups. But, she wasn’t in charge. She continued to follow 10 feet behind the soldier. Suddenly, he stopped and threw his left fist up next to his left ear. Jackson had taught her that was the hand signal for freeze. She did.
She could hear something moving in front and off to the left of them. That was bad. If it was zombies, it meant that they were inside the woods; they might have to escape through the big, open field anyway. She watched Sgt Procell let his rifle hang from its strap across his chest and he pulled out his bayonet.
SSgt Brown crept past her, stopping beside the other soldier. She saw him hold up 3 fingers and point. She assumed that meant that there were three zombies over there. The older man pulled out his bayonet also. Neither man mounted the sharp knife onto the end of their rifles. She didn’t understand why.
SSgt Brown turned towards the civilians with a finger held in front of his lips. Then he pointed that same finger towards the ground: Stay here. Then he and Sgt Procell crept slowly towards the unseen threat.
There! She could see them now. It was three zombies, meandering towards the field. Two were male, one was a female. All were adult. One of the males had on a military uniform or some kind of camouflage. The female looked like she was out for a jog. Her jogging suit was torn in several places, covered in her own blood.
The others slid up next to her, watching as the trained soldiers practiced their art. The pair circled deeper into the woods as they approached the zombies from behind. As they closed in on their prey, the two rose almost as one. The woman and the soldier zombies fell to the ground as the soldiers withdrew their blades from the zombie’s heads.
The third zombie turned slowly at the sudden commotion behind it. A loud moan emanated from its throat as it began advancing on the two soldiers. The moan was cut short as Sgt Procell drove his blade under the zombie’s chin and into its brain. The monster dropped to the ground instantly, taking the soldier’s bayonet with it. Theresa believed she could hear the sucking sound as Sgt Procell shoved the monster off of his bayonet with his boot.
Suddenly, she realized that she heard other sounds. More to the point, it was like one sound coming from many directions: moaning. It was very faint at first, almost indiscernible. But it quickly grew louder as zombies in the field and unseen zombies in the woods began to answer the call of the now fallen zombie.
She looked at the two adults kneeling next to her. They were beginning to hear it too. They cocked their heads from side to side as if a bug was buzzing around them. They didn’t get it. She whispered loudly. “Zombies!” Then she pointed in a circle around them. Ms. Hebert’s eyes became wide with fear. She got it.
Theresa stood and ran to the soldiers, waving the others on as she did. The soldiers were both kneeling turning their heads side to side, trying to gauge the danger from each direction. SSgt Brown turned as Theresa slid in behind them, followed by the other civilians. Good girl, he thought.
&
nbsp; “That way,” he pointed. It was more of a northwesterly direction, but he believed there were less voices coming from that direction. “Two columns behind Sgt Procell, go!”
Sgt Procell led the way. The rest of the group followed. SSgt Brown and Ms. Hebert were behind and left of Sgt Procell. Theresa and Shane were in a column on the right. This allowed SSgt Brown to have more firepower forward if he needed it, but it kept everyone close for tighter control. He just hoped nobody shot anyone.
Sgt Procell suddenly veered to the right, north. There were two zombies moving from his left to his right. This would put the zombies behind the group. More moaning from the two as the group skirted past them. Sgt Procell was picking up the pace as he continued to try to weave between groups of zombies that would suddenly appear in front of them.
Suddenly, he realized there was a large group of zombies, ten or more, moving in from their left again. They were being driven to the field by all these zombies coming from the west. Shit, he thought. The trap was closing, and closing fast.
He turned left. “Going loud,” he shouted over his shoulder. He hoped the others understood it was time to use their weapons. The field was about 50 meters away. There weren’t any zombies between him and the open space.
He dared a quick glance around as he broke into the field. There was a group of four zombies about 15 yards to his front. He stopped and raised his rifle. He felt more than saw someone come on line to his right. He fired into the head of the closest zombie. Pink mist exploded in a jet behind the zombie’s head on his second shot. By this time, several other zombies had fallen.
As he aimed at the last zombie, Theresa’s shotgun exploded next to him. The zombie went down, its head vaporized by the shotgun blast.
From his left, SSgt Brown yelled for them to go. Just as he began to run, a scream came from over his shoulder. He turned to see Theresa being pulled to the ground by a zombie that had come from behind them. There were several others close by.
