by Thomas Key
Once we were all equipped, we headed to the motor pool for the vehicles. I was assigned to driver duty of the second hummer from the front. Every time I sat in the driver seat of one of these, I thought back to my bright yellow hummer that I had acquired in Tijeras and had to abandon in the desert outside of Tucumcari. As anyone who have ridden in military vehicles could tell you, they were not nearly as comfortable as their civilian counterparts. The smart ass kid from earlier was my passenger. Riding shotgun as it were. This would be tons of fun, I thought to myself as I closed my door and set my rifle by my side. Kenneth, Jennifer and Rachel were all assigned to other vehicles. The ladies were in the Stryker and Kenneth was riding in the gunner seat of the first hummer ahead of my own. Each of our hummers were mounted with 5.56MM M249 SAWs while the Stryker had a 7.62 MM M240 machine gun mounted. We could deal out some serious damage in a hurry. The Stryker was an absolute beast. The eight-wheeled troop carrier was massive, and heavily armored in comparison to our trucks. If the shit were to hit the proverbial fan, we were told to fold in behind that bad boy and let it handle anything coming our way. I completely agreed with that plan should it need to be enacted. Unfortunately, the base had a whopping two of these and one was always kept in reserve. The other downside of this foray was that even though we had the up-armored variants of Humvees, plenty of shit could still take us out. That fact continued to stress me out as the memory of my Evac chopper being shot down over Albuquerque just a few weeks ago came to the forefront. We had found no trace of whoever had shot us down, but if they had the capabilities to shoot down a helicopter, a slow-moving convoy would not be much of a problem. I began the process of starting my Humvee and checked the gauges. The wait light darkened and I turned the switch to on, and the diesel engine came to life. The folks in the motor pool took damn good care of these vehicles, but I sure as shit was not going to get caught in the middle of nowhere having run out of fuel, so I checked that gauge twice, even tapping on it just to be safe. I double checked and sure enough, it was a full tank. I heard the Stryker start up ahead of me, and a chorus of engines from behind. I saw Kenneth poke his head out of the top of the Humvee in front of me and wave in my direction. I smiled and waved back. We began to move, rolling forward slowly, letting people walking ahead of us pass. A dozen people stood guard at and around the main gate leading out of the base. Since our last brawl with undead, they were taking no chances. I waved to the last set of guards as we rolled out of the gate and onto the streets outside of Clovis, New Mexico. Our destination was what had been a small camp outside of Tucumcari. There, a group known as the Exiles had captured civilians and soldiers alike, and had killed a great many people in cold blood. The air force had made short work of them while they had been in pursuit of yours truly while I was attempting to escape from a rescue of a small group of women remaining at the camp, including Rachel. No part of that rescue went according to plan but we didn’t die so I’ll chalk that up as mark in the win category. While we had not seen nor heard of any of those bastards causing any more trouble, the base brass was not fond of the idea of letting a threat regain strength. So here we were.
As we rolled down the long-abandoned streets heading west for US 268 which would eventually switch to US 209. Pre zombapoc, it would have been about an hour and a half. Now with our convoy and our need to move around wrecks, it would probably take around three hours. As the miles ticked by, the kid beside me started to get restless. I personally am more than happy to just enjoy the drive. “Hey man, do you think we’ll see any action?” the kid asked me, slapping my arm to get my attention. I shot daggers at him with my eyes but he continued undeterred. “Man, I’m so ready to shoot some shit. Zombies, bad guys, hell, I’d shoot a damn sign if I had the chance. Base is so boring.” I lost interest very quickly and just focused on the road. I could still hear him droning on about how he's the baddest badass that ever lived and if anyone messes with us, he's going to take them on single-handed and so on so forth. Teenagers man, no wisdom, I thought as I drove along. The dude was hyped up like he was an 8-year-old girl and we were driving to Disneyland to see her favorite princess. We passed a row of abandoned cars and I saw the Humvee ahead of me slam on its brakes. I had barely enough time to hit my own brakes and come to a stop just mere inches from the rear of the vehicle in front. A group of 8 infected was walking along the right side of the road. I mean literally, off to the side of the road, as if avoiding the pathway of vehicles. They were moving in the opposite direction of our base and they barely acknowledged that we were there at all. They just continued walking along, as if without an undead care in the world. “Let’s shoot those fuckers!” The kid on my right moved to jump out of the vehicle. My arm shot out to grab his uniform sleeve. I missed. He was already out of the truck and shooting. The loud staccato of rifle fire just outside the passenger door was deafening. Within just a few moments, all of the infected were dead, riddled with far more bullets than necessary. The kid jumped back into the Humvee with a huge shit-eating grin on his smug face. I, however, was not at all amused. I punched the kid with a fist so strong that it seemed to start somewhere down near the Rio Grande and hit him full force. The giddy kid was immediately silenced and knocked unconscious. Our particular Humvee was filled with supplies, so we had no other passengers. I know for sure others saw his little shooting stunt. After another moment, the lead Humvee once again began to move. The rest of the road trip was spent in blissful peace and quiet as the idiot next to me continued to slumber for the duration.
We arrived shortly after to the town of Tucumcari, New Mexico. The town was the last major stopping point before hitting the Texas border. It was one of those, eat here, fuel up here, or else you're going to die between here and the next town type of places. I’m not knocking it, they had some great food. It just always felt like if you didn’t eat and get gas there before heading to Texas, you would be totally fucked. Not Far East of the town was the Tucumcari Metro Park. Within eyeshot of that park sat the husks of several trucks and motorcycles that had pursued us on the path away from the camp. The RV bus thing that we had used to escape was still there, though much worse for wear. It had canted to one side and was in danger of tipping over. We slowly passed the wreckage. Flashbacks of that whole ordeal came to the forefront of my mind as we passed the carnage. Bodies still lay in the road in their final resting place. Within a few minutes, we were at the former Exiles basecamp. Several more RVs and assorted vehicles still sat in a circle around what had once been their communal fire pit. The remainder of tents were blown all around the area, one was even stuck in a tree quite a ways from the site, maybe a quarter of a mile away. We pulled into the camp and piled out of our respective vehicles. Kenneth walked over to me after disembarking and pointed at my sleeping beauty in the passenger seat. “What the hell happened to him?” he asked with a concerned look on his face. “He hit his face and fell asleep,” I told him in a deadpan tone of voice. He processed it for a moment, then a smile crept from ear to ear. He fist-bumped me and laughed out loud. I couldn’t help it. Laughter is infectious and especially his laughter. A short woman with long black hair named Jaylin had the most seniority as far as people on this mission so she took charge. Generally, my rule is to use everyone's last names as they tend to be easier to remember but her last name was super long and took a ton of practice to pronounce correctly, so I’ll leave it at Jaylin. “Alright everyone, form up. Let’s check out the camp for anything useful. Keep an eye out for any kind of intelligence.” We did just that, splitting up into teams. Other than another can opener, we had no real luck in the first two tents, but that was fine because even can openers were in short supply at base. The remaining clothes were old, worn and kind of nasty and there weren’t many if any weapons left behind. They had all been armed when they came after me so that made a lot of sense. We came to our first RV, an older model with paint fading across the side facing the sun. The door had a lock on the outside, which goes without saying; caught my interest. Although I just
said it, so does it really go without saying? Someone in the group was smart enough to bring bolt cutters and we cut the lock. As soon as we opened the door, the stench of feces and body odor flooded out of the trailer like a biblical flood wave. I damn near tossed my lunch right then and there, and several others in our team did just that, depositing their leftovers in the sand around the RV. I took a step in and saw right away that it was not a normal recreational vehicle by any means. It had been gutted, and it looked like the inside of a prison cell. One toilet sat in the far end with no door or privacy, a sink was where the kitchen had been and that was about it. I did, however, have to address the elephant in the room so to speak. Dead center (no pun intended) in the RV was a withered man covered in shit. I don’t mean covered in stuff, I mean covered in actual human shit. I literally blurted out, “It stinks in there” as I covered my face with my hand as if that would somehow fix the stench. The man lifted his head ever so slightly. I immediately called out of the RV, “Medic! We need a medic in here now!” I yelled as loud as I could. I entered the trailer, moving my feet carefully, trying to avoid the piles of crap every few steps. A chain was attached from one of the man's ankles to the chair that was drilled into the floor. His hands were bound together in handcuffs. I took the sight of the man in. His wrists were beginning to scab over from the cuts and abrasions of him having tried to remove them by force. He was malnourished and close to death by starvation. The sink in the kitchen was just close enough for him to use, but it most likely ran out of water before too long. A medic; Ashmore entered behind me. After gagging herself, but recovering like a champ, she set her medical bag down next to the man in what she had hoped was a clear spot and got to work.
Chapter Three
We were able to move the man into the back of the Stryker. One of our team members had doused him with water from a gallon jug, much to the relief of all of us. I’d love to say the stench of shit was washed away and the crisp, clean smell returned, but unfortunately, this was not the case. It dampened it for sure, but wet shit kind of still smells like dry shit. The man eventually was able to mumble about how refreshing that it was. He drank from a canteen greedily, and ate two MRE crackers. Once he was in the vehicle and on the bench, he fell asleep, stretched out like a jungle cat. The medic continued to administer to him, even in his sleep. Kenneth was beside the medic and had helped her dress the wounds as best she could. “Long time no see doc,” he had told her while helping her clean him up. I was standing security outside of the troop transport as they conversed. “I’m glad to see that bullet didn’t kill you,” she said in response, grunting as she moved the man over to his side. “Thanks, I think?” he asked her, remembering when she had dressed his own wounds after he was shot by a distraught mother, what seemed like years ago. “You’re welcome,” she said as she moved the man’s hands to one side, getting a better view of his back. “Next time, don’t get shot,” she said. As if that somehow fixed everything. As if he had planned on getting shot. He sighed and shrugged. Just under his breath, I heard him whisper, “Ms. grumpy over here.” I, of course, chuckled in hearing that and she immediately turned around to me. “Is something funny?” she asked with fire in her eyes. I immediately held out my hands in a placating manner. “Nothing, I almost sneezed,” I said, throwing whatever was on the top of my head. I’m not sure if it worked or not, but she turned back around. Whew, I thought to myself as I too turned back around. The last thing I needed was another woman pissed off at me. Once the man was secured in the transport, the whole group of us had a huddle. Nothing besides some tools and other assorted items were found. Personally, I was just glad none of those assholes were still around. I did not want to get into another gunfight if I could at all help it. As we began to plan our next move, the door to my Humvee opened and slammed closed loudly. “Oh shit,” I sighed, and turned to look at the kid who was now rapidly approaching. A visible bruise was forming on the side of his face, and his right eye was starting to swell halfway closed. “You bastard!” he yelled as he came straight at me. “Relax man...” I started and he cut me off. “Fuck you asshole, you hit me!” Isabel was beside me and raised an eyebrow in my direction. Just as he came within hand-throwing range, Kenneth grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Listen, jerk off. Those infected were not a threat to our team. You were.” The kid looked taken aback for a moment. So Ken pressed on. “You endangered all of us by getting out of your vehicle. If they had turned and attacked you, we would all have been forced to engage and people could have died for your stupidity. He did you a favor by knocking your ass out,” Kenneth said, still holding onto him tight. The kid’s eyes immediately turned to me and were still fairly full of menace. Ken shook him, and his eyes came back around to him. “If you had gotten anyone killed for that reckless stunt, I would have just shot you then and there and be done with it. You’re lucky a little fist kiss is all you got. Now are you ready to get to work or should we put you down for another nap?” he asked the kid. The wind in his sails was deflating in record time. “Fine,” he said like the petulant child that he is. “What's your name kid?” Ken asked as he finally let him go. “Arturo.” “Alright, Arturo. We were thinking about going into town and checking for more supplies. Are you in?” After glaring at me another moment, he nodded. “Of course, I’m in,” he said. With that, the tension was cut, and the group reformed into our huddle.
Ten minutes later, we were back on the road. I waved to the RV we had escaped in one last time as we passed by it. Several minutes later, we were in Tucumcari proper. We headed to what looked like a series of warehouses. The fast food places would be absolutely horrid so we knew we had to look for storage buildings for supplies. Whether it was canned food or building supplies, we’d take damn near anything. That was the state of survival these days. Find whatever you can and use it however you can. We pulled into the parking lot of a large warehouse building that unfortunately did not let on what was inside at all. For all we know, it was store shelving inside. However, when you’re on the brink of survival, it's fairly important to make absolutely sure. We exited the vehicles. Two of our group stayed with the man rescued from his RV prison cell. The rest of us stacked up on either side of the entrance to the warehouse. On the right side of the door was Isabel, Ashmore, the medic, Atencio, an intense female soldier who had previously helped defend Cannon AFB, two guys who I can’t seem to ever remember their names and lastly, myself. On the other side of the entrance was Kenneth, Rachel, Jaylin; the woman whose last name was too long for me to pronounce, another woman named Susan next and lastly, Arturo. The kid looked like he was chomping at the bit to get inside. I’m not even sure what that analogy means, but he was whatever that was. With a one, two and three, we entered. Both teams spread out along the interior walls on either side. The warehouse was completely dark. Flashlights popped on from down the line. Our lights swept the rows of shelving that we could see. It looked like it was a distribution center of some kind. This was absolutely a total score for the home team, one which was sorely needed. We began to move forward, each of us taking an aisle and heading towards the back of the building. I stopped in my lane and heard a tapping noise that I couldn’t place. I listened intently and even tilted my head to one side as if that would help, like a dog hearing a high-pitched whistle. I happened to glance up and movement caught my eye. Above us were a series of catwalks that ran parallel to the aisles. Something was moving above us, and the tapping noise was the sound of feet on metal. “Hey guys,” I said rather loudly, hoping to get everyone's attention. As if synchronized, the things above us jumped down and into each one of our aisles. I watched it in seemingly slow motion as a person, it was definitely a person, leapt down and landed right on me. With teeth chomping and drool drooling, I struggled to get it off of me, after having my breath expelled out of me. A light bulb lit up in my head. Infected! Shot through my mind and I fought back with increased fervor. I hit it repeatedly with the butt stock of my rifle right in the face. Even while fighting for my life
, I noticed something strange. Blood. Wet blood was being spilt as I hit the hell out of its head. It wasn't coagulated like the zombies we were used to at all, a mix of dark black sludge. This blood even felt hot to the touch. On my next swing, the infected dodged my next attack. Again, it didn’t just take it like a normal infected. It moved back just enough to avoid the weapon. I turned to my side, seeing my chance. The creature tumbled over, having lost its balance. I got my feet under me and I fired two rounds from my rifle into its chest and was about to shoot it in the head when it slumped over and lay still. “What the actual fuck,” I said to myself as I stared at the infected in disbelief. Chest shots had never killed an infected before. It was always only headshots. What was going on? I asked myself in a daze. I heard multiple gunshots going off around me and sprinted to the end of the aisle and into the next one. Three infected were in that one aisle, eating one of the guys that I couldn’t remember their names. I lifted my rifle and shot six times into their backs. They too slumped over and lay still. I moved onto the next isle. Rachel had taken care of her new friends with little issue and had moved to assist Kenneth whose rifle had jammed. He was holding two infected at bay by swinging his broken rifle like a baseball bat. I saw it connect with one of their faces, causing fresh blood and bits of teeth to be ejected from its mouth, which was gross. Rachel dispatched them quickly and I moved to the next one down and saw another infected trying desperately to sink its teeth into Susan. I pulled the creature off of her and it skittered behind me as I did so. I fired one shot into its head and it lay still, bleeding from its head wound. “Thank you,” she stuttered out as I lifted her to her feet. “No problem,” I said as I handed her her rifle from the ground. Eventually, we cleared the remaining aisles. I came up on Atencio who I kid you not, was beating the shit out of one of the dead infected repeatedly. We all gathered around as she just kept kicking the thing. I eventually pulled her away from it. She still tried, bless her little heart but after holding her still for a moment, she relaxed.
