The Scott Pfeiffer Story (Book 2): Sheol

by Woods, Shane

  I looked out of the sliding glass door in front of me and over the balcony but could see nothing.

  “Anyone got a location on those shots?” I barked into my radio, forgetting the customary ‘over’.

  “It’s us boss, it’s cool! Over,” came a gravelly response. Rich. The little shit. What was he thinking?

  “Are you in your bunker? Over,” I replied hastily.

  “Ah, yup, one minute I will be. Over,” he replied casually.

  “I’m going to go choke that fucking leprechaun,” I said to whomever was around, then turned to see Jennifer, Gwen, and Hannah staring at me wide-eyed.

  “He, uh, well, you were asleep,” Jennifer explained, “but Rich did announce on the open channel that he was going to be firing a burst before dinner.”

  I immediately felt foolish.

  “A burst from what?” I asked.

  “Don’t know.” She shrugged in return.

  “Well, maybe I won’t kill him, but I’m still going down there,” I said before checking to make sure my pistol was still on my thigh and grabbing my rifle to sling it over my shoulder on the way out the door.

  I pushed my way through the door of Rich’s armory and right up to the door by the counter. I tried it, and of course, it was locked.

  “Try it now mate,” came Ash’s voice from the other side as the door popped open a crack. I opened it and proceeded through.

  “What the fuck, man? Scared the shit out of me,” I informed Rich, who only grinned. “I was asleep when you put the call out.”

  “It’s not 100%,” he began, “and I’ve got Henry making a rolling, swiveling mount for it, but take a look. Its timing is off, I only managed a short burst before it stopped on its own, but we should have it working good before the end of tomorrow.”

  “I almost forgot about this, honestly,” I confessed. “The 240.”

  “M240E1,” Ash corrected. “She’s a beaut. A real machine gun, haven’t seen something like this since my time in the service.”

  “I’ve never seen one in person,” I admitted.

  “Thought you Americans were-” he started, but I cut him off quickly.

  “You thought we were all gun freaks and had RPGs just sitting in our living rooms?” I shot. “Yeah, I know. But reality is a long way from our world perception. Over half the people in this compound had never even seen a gun before the end.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean offense,” Ash relented.

  “It’s okay. I get grumpy when I first wake up sometimes,” I replied in excuse. “Anyway, you said a rolling, pivoting something for it? Wouldn’t it be simpler to mount it in the bed of a truck, like a technical?”

  “It would,” Rich observed, “but I was thinking of like a house.”

  “A house?” I questioned.

  “Yeah, like, mount it on the second floor of one by the main gates,” he explained. “That way it can just be rolled from window to window and shot wherever.”

  “I like it,” I admitted, “but what about the main building?”

  “You mean here?” Ash and Rich asked, nearly in unison.

  “Yeah,” I answered and pointed vaguely upwards. “Right up on the east end of the ninth floor, the conference room. Run the track on the balcony, cover it from the weather. Be a good ace-in-the-hole for if there’s ever big trouble and we get pushed back to the inner compound. Gate’s right there, too.”

  “By big trouble,” Ash began, “you mean the Colonel?”

  “Yup,” I replied.

  “Not bad, actually,” Rich agreed. “We retreat, he thinks he’s got us on the run, we show him our cool new toy.”

  “Get on it in the morning,” I instructed. “It’s dinner time.”

  I left Rich’s bunker without much further back and forth and looked up into the still-drizzling rain to see the rooftop lit up. A lazy haze of smoke encircled the top of the building, given life by the flickering torches and likely small rooftop bonfires we used to light the space. So, this became my destination, and upwards I marched to the top, across the ninth floor, and then up to the rooftop.

  Here, I was greeted with what seemed to be a sea of people. Every seat had been taken, save for a few around my table. People were standing everywhere, and around the small fires in the cooling night air. But there was another thing that struck me as odd and explained why everyone had shown up. The smell.

  I could smell fish. Okay, well, to say I could smell it was an understatement, the aroma was so heavy in the air that you could damn near walk through it. And there was more; the smoke hanging above the rooftop gathering spot smelled of onion, and garlic, and so many other things I couldn’t even begin to tell where to begin the rest of my description.

  “Scott!” called Bri, excitedly. “Go! Sit! I’ll bring you a plate!”

  I complied, and pulled up a seat at what I still considered to be the ‘main’ table, and before I had even gotten properly scooted in and seated by my family, Bri had returned with a plate for me and set it on the table with a smile.

  “I wasn’t hallucinating,” I noted. “This is real fish. Where did all of it come from?”

  “Fresh protein is essential,” she explained. “So some of our boys have spent the last two days on the river with nets! Another team found a house with a pretty sizeable cellar and brought back tons of canned veggies in those glass mason jars.”

  “How’d they keep the fish fresh for two days until they caught enough?” I asked.

  “Said they had waypoints or something,” she said. “Some kind of floating totes on the river where they’d put fish they caught so they could stay in the water and alive until they came back through.”

  “Nice!” I agreed and began to check out the fish and vegetables with my fork.

  “It’s a few different kinds, we all got a little of each,” she continued. “They said pike, bass, something called a steelhead? I don’t know. But it’s super good!”

  “Yeah, steelhead’s great,” I confirmed and began shoveling bits of food into my mouth as Bri left to go join Dave.

  After most of my plate had been cleared, and my wife, daughter, and our new friend broke into conversation for a while, I sat back, brushed off my chest and face, and rang my fork against my drink glass.

  I’ll be damned, it worked! The entire rooftop went quiet and turned in my direction.

  “No worries, everyone,” I said, feeling instantly uneasy as I had so many eyes on me, “I’m not giving a speech. I need my department heads for a moment, plus Fred, Frank, and Parker.”

  Most of the dinner party went back to their food, though heads started popping up here and there as those that were called up to my table made their way over. I held my words until all were present.

  “Rich, Ash, Henry,” I called, though mostly a formality, as they were already right there, “You three have a machine gun project to work on. I want it up and working ASAP, as I don’t know when or how we’ll see the Colonel again, or what he’s going to do.”

  All three men spoke in the affirmative and went back to their respective seats and tables.

  “Tony, Dave, and Frank,” I continued, “I want to know about the Colonel. Where he’s operating from, how many people and how much equipment. Just like we did for the gang bangers. But, being military, keep your distance. If he’s got guards a mile from wherever he is, stay on this side of them. Don’t endanger yourselves.”

  “What if we’re spotted?” Tony asked.

  “Return fire only, and run south, then find the river and come back up the opposite side of it,” I instructed. “Whatever you do, don’t get yourselves killed, and do NOT let him know you’re from here. With a little luck, if you get found out, he might just think you’re nosy scavengers.”

  “What if we get caught though, boss?” Frank broke in. “Like, what if running doesn’t work?”

  “I have had you all implanted with cyanide capsules in your teeth,” I advised, and watched as Dave grinned, and Frank took a visible step back.
“I’m kidding, and I can’t believe you even considered that, Frank.”

  I could see Clara, his wife, at the nearby table watching and snickering. Frank was a good man, but we didn’t much credit him for having a big brain.

  “Look,” I continued on, “we don’t have much for backup plans. So just don’t get caught. And if you do, figure out an exit strategy. The whole world is just kind of playing things by ear, so we’ll do as the Romans.”

  “Rome fell,” Tony said flatly.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, “but it lasted a hell of a long time and did many great things before that.”

  “This is true,” Tony confirmed. “So, what are we taking?”

  “Your time, first and foremost,” I ordered. “But also, one of the hybrids. No noise, room for your packs. You’re pure recon, no scavenging unless it’s worth it. Take a scout pack from the command room, cameras, batteries, et cetera. You three know the drill by now. Finish dinner and get some rest.”

  “Sounds good” Dave concurred.

  “I suggest, by the way,” I began anew, “locate their general vicinity during the day, rest through the afternoon, relocate them at night, and do your recon the best you can from the darkness. And always, always, always, watch out for the infected. Be safe, guys.”

  “Always.” Tony grinned as the three of them left together, likely to go plan, or whatever it was that they did.

  “Rob, Ryan, Bri, and Carolyn,” I started back, “you four don’t really leave, and I’m not asking you to, but keep the best eye out that you can.”

  They concurred and departed as well.

  “Okay. The rest of you,” I began, my tone dropping and the conversation being heavier than it already was, “get some rest. And round up two teams of five. I need two trailer trucks, and one hooked with our longest trailer. We’re going to get some pets and supplies tomorrow morning.”

  “Pets?” Parker interjected.

  “Livestock, my boy,” I grinned. “I want to find where they are, and maybe another trailer, but if we have to lead them all back on foot and by hand tomorrow, we will. Cattle, pigs, goats, sheep, chickens, whatever we can, and as many as we can.”

  “I like that.” Fred nodded.

  “We’ll need a lot of shit,” Cody suggested, having come with the others.

  “Like?” I asked in return.

  “Food for the animals. Bedding. Room to roam,” he started listing things off, his head cocked to the side as if he were thinking. “I mean, you can bring back every animal on the planet, but that’s work. And a lot of maintenance.”

  “And we’ve got people passing the days away for a single meal’s worth of fish, Mr. Freeze,” I reminded him. “It’s too late to plant and we could scavenge our hands and feet raw and not find enough to sustain this growing population until after the snow is gone. We need better options.”

  “I agree,” he began again, “but it’s not going to be easy. Then again, it makes sense, nothing’s easy anymore. Okay, I’m in.”

  “We’ll take a third truck then,” I opined. “A third truck and a trailer. You seem to know what you’re looking for, and Fred wears a cowboy hat so he’s going to help your end of things. Any of this bedding, hay, feed, whatever you can find, get it and trailer it.”

  Cody and Fred both agreed and started talking among themselves while Jennifer eyed me.

  “No, woman,” I interjected before she could even begin. “You did great, but east of here is a big unknown and besides, you have a Hannah to help now.”

  “Oh!” Hannah nearly choked as she swallowed her water.

  “He’ll have someone to keep his ass in line anyway,” Clara stated as she sidled her way up to the table. “I’m in.”

  “You’re supposed to be taking it easy though,” I reminded her. “Plus, with Frank out there, there’s nobody to watch your kids in the evenings.”

  “There’s plenty of people; they can stay with the Robinsons,” she offered, and, forgetting who the Robinsons were, I neglected to argue. “Plus, cupcake, how long am I supposed to take it easy for? I need to get back into it.”

  “I’ll see you before dawn at the motor pool, then,” I relented. “Dress warm.”

  She nodded and smiled as she turned to head back to her seat.

  We turned the conversation with the remaining members around my table to sustainability.

  The world had ended, so far as any of us knew, and as had become apparent basically every single day, things we needed were in finite supply. Shelter, the number one thing needed, was handled. That was no biggie. Security? Eh, we were doing pretty well. In our immediate vicinity, the infected had largely became a non-issue. Scavenging runs allowed us to see that the world still wanted to eat or kill us, but mostly, especially for those who never had a reason to leave, it seemed lonelier here, more than anything else.

  But everything else was a concern. There was the winter season coming up, and, sure, Henry’s furnaces could help a lot but what about when it got really cold? How much could they help then?

  Then there was food, medical supplies, even basic entertainment. We needed all three, in a sense, to keep morale as high as possible or there’d be even more issues. Bri was constantly commenting about how things were being reported missing from here or there. Shannon, Ashley, and Jennifer had a never-ending list of supplies they needed as well.

  The armory, Rich’s mad scientist lab, whatever it be called, as well as Tony. They both had their own constant grocery lists of what they needed.

  None of it ever ended. And compounding the original threat of all the infected, we had every type of human you could think of at the end of the world. Some were just needy, alone, and needing a place to stay. Others were flat-out raiders on one level or another.

  And the government. Or military. Militia? Whatever the hell they actually were, were a major concern now. The infected had shown us repeatedly that even their biggest and best couldn’t pass our walls, and our moat. But those that craved flesh and bled from their tear ducts couldn’t shoot at you.

  The infected themselves. Aside from the obvious, their physical threat to our well-being, none of us still had any idea where they came from, what started it all, or how it spread, and so quickly at that.

  All of this thinking was beginning to make my head spin, so I excused myself while the others carried on. Before I knew it, I was down in our apartment, then, out on the balcony with one of the few actual cigars I still had. A stale, dried-out Perdomo, but it was still my little heaven on Earth.

  The commotion carried on from the rooftop above me, then eventually died down little by little as people left for bed, or their own evening vices. Eventually, it had not only died out, but all three of my own roommates, the girls, had come by to wish me a goodnight and go to bed themselves.

  I should have gone, but my mind was just so littered with thoughts that all seemed pertinent, and coupled with my earlier nap, I just wasn’t ready for sleep. Not just yet.

  NINE

  “Scott?” came the far away voice.

  I mumbled, not even sure myself what my reply was.

  “Hey, you okay?” a shake on my shoulder.

  Damn it was cold. Where am I?

  “You fall asleep out here?” It was Jennifer, so there’s two mysteries solved.

  I began a stretch, and nearly rolled out of the lawn chair I had apparently fallen asleep in, on our ninth floor balcony.

  How long had I been out here? Out cold, in the cold, my lower face and beard tucked into my flannel jacket.

  “What time is it?” I asked as Jennifer leaned in to give me a quick kiss.

  “Time for you to go,” she replied, smiling and handing me a thermos.

  “What’s this? You’re kicking me out?” I jested. “I paid up until Tuesday, you can’t do this!”

  “Funny,” she retorted, “I haven’t seen your wallet in months, where did you get the money?”

  “Right next to the toilet paper, it’s worth the same these days,”
I chuckled, then held up the thermos. “Coffee or soup?”

  “Couldn’t coffee be a soup?” she asked coyly.

  “Nah, more of a broth, I think,” I suggested.

  “Well either way you’ve got people waiting for you down below,” she reminded. “Three trucks full of them, something about cows and feed?”

  “Shit,” I stated flatly.

  “I’ve got a three-day bag packed for you,” she informed. “Your rifle and favorite pistols are next to it on the table.”

  “Okay, love you,” I said as I stood to give her a hug and a kiss goodbye.

  “You better be damn careful,” she started as she followed me back inside.

  “I will, I promise,” I told her as I wormed my way into the sling for my MK18.

  “I know you will,” she continued, “but I worry so much.”

  “Hey,” I reassured, “we’ve been through the worst the apocalypse had to offer and we’re still here, right?”

  “Daddy bye bye?” Gwen asked from her seat at the table, a granola bar in one hand.

  “Yeah, I’m leaving, kid,” I answered as I picked up my Smith and Wesson 6906 from the table and clasped the drop-leg holster into place.

  “You’re going out there?” Hannah asked, the nerves showing in her face as she considered it.

  “Wouldn’t send my people out if I wouldn’t hun,” I explained, looking for the second pistol and finding it already secured into the chest rig leaning against my bag. I picked it up and inspected it. A Sig Sauer P226 Legion. It definitely was one of my favorites, and, whether she picked it by mistake or design, chambered in the same 9mm as my S&W. Less variety of ammo to carry made things nice. I only needed to worry about 9mm, and the .300Blackout for my rifle.

  Gwen came over and wrapped her little arms around my leg and I placed a hand on her back, leaning down to kiss her on top of her head, momentarily enjoying the softness that was my little girl’s bright blonde hair.

  “Well, like Jennifer said,” Hannah continued, “be careful. Now you’ve got three of us to worry about you.”

  “Keep talking like that,” I joked, “and I’ll adopt you. And we’re weird.”