Refuge From The Dead | Book 2 | Dead Summer

by Masters, A. L.

  He caught a glimpse of her sitting straight up in the driver’s seat, hunched over the wheel, intent on gaining the front of the convoy.

  “LEADFOOT! Come in!” Cam demanded furiously.

  “Barbarian, this is Leadfoot. I can hear you fine. Over,” she responded sweetly.

  “Leadfoot, you ever do that again and you will never leave home, is that clear? Over.” He lowered the radio.

  “10-4. Can I call you Barbie for short? It’s much easier. Over,” she asked.

  “Negative, damn it. Now clear the channel. OUT!” He tossed the radio into the passenger seat and took a drink of water.

  They should reach the clinic in approximately ten minutes at this speed.

  He started scanning his surroundings more closely, searching for any Zulu’s. Bradley had come up with the term a couple of nights ago at supper, and it had stuck.

  Apparently, he enjoyed studying and memorizing codes and other communication methods in his free time.

  Bradley had impressed them all with his knowledge of the phonetic alphabet, Morse code, and the local police codes.

  He had probably saved their lives with that knowledge too, so Cam decided to give him a little break on the hipster stuff.

  He was still going to get his ass in shape though. None of them could afford to be soft.

  They gained the outskirts of the small town, seeing the clinic on the left. It was an outpatient surgical center, combined with a small urgent care facility. He expected to encounter some resistance and had prepped the others beforehand. He would be the one clearing rooms, while Jack took the rear and watched their six.

  He was the only one that he trusted to do it well.

  The parking lot seemed empty, a good sign. They pulled around to the back, which was partially hidden by an old strip mall. Most of the storefronts had long since closed down, so there shouldn’t be much activity there.

  They lined up their vehicles, ready to make a quick exit, and locked them up tight. No sense in asking for trouble.

  “Everyone on me,” Cam said quietly to the team.

  They got in position behind him, and they stood off to the side of the door.

  He turned. “Jean, stay right behind me, Monica and Jim will follow you. Keep your hatchet ready, but do not fire your weapons. Understand?”

  “I understand,” she said seriously.

  “On three.” He initiated the countdown, opening the door on one.

  They filed quietly into the back hallway, seeing no signs of life…or death, in the dim light. They walked to the nearest room. An office. They went in while Jack and Monica watched the door.

  “I don’t see much,” Cam said in a low voice.

  “Check that cabinet up there with the lock. I bet there’s medication in there,” Jean suggested.

  He popped the lock with his ax and opened it.

  Bingo. These were heavy duty vials though, knockout drugs. Dangerous.

  He took them, filling a satchel he brought for that purpose. A drawer below the cabinet held a small supply of syringes and hypodermics, gloves, and antiseptic wipes. He took those too.

  They continued to search the offices, finding various drugs and medical supplies. They eventually came to the patient rooms, which they skipped over. Making a right down the next corridor brought them to the physician entrance to the surgical suites.

  Bingo.

  Cam scanned the names on the doors, eventually finding the drug lockup. The door was locked and required an ID badge. The lock was steel, but the door was wood. He rapped on it.

  It was solid, but not a steel core.

  “Stand back and stay alert,” he told them.

  He hefted his axe and brought it down just to the right of the steel locking apparatus. Repeatedly, he chopped, finally removing enough of the surrounding wood to access the mechanism.

  A quick pull of the manual release inside the protective box, and he was in.

  The room was completely dark, so he pulled his headlamp and turned on the light.

  He knew these cabinets only had enough drugs, I.V.s, and other supplies for the last day’s operations. They still found plenty of useful things which Jack packed in his rucksack.

  They moved on, looking for the main supply room.

  The further they got into the surgical side of the clinic, the darker it was. Windows were optional here it seemed.

  They found the supply room unlocked and went inside. Jean and Monica grabbed as many I.V. bags as they could carry, along with the tubing, catheters, ports, and clamps. Jack took as many boxes of gloves as he could fit.

  Cam searched the medication cabinet thoroughly. He decided to take everything, along with the physician’s manual and some surgical reference texts. They cleared out what they came for and headed back to the exit.

  Cam paused at the door and listened.

  He heard nothing outside, so he looked through the small square of glass. He had a limited view, but it looked clear. He opened the door and stepped through, his team following.

  The vehicles faced the road to the left.

  “Put that stuff in the back of the SUV and load up. We need to move.”

  He felt a tingling on the back of his neck, an eerie feeling that he was being watched. He searched for the cause, then turned and waited for the others.

  As soon as they had all settled into their vehicles, he gave the signal to proceed.

  They were headed toward the sporting goods store now.

  This was going remarkably well...

  Angie

  The morning after Cam left, Angie felt better than she had in days.

  After breakfast, she had Jim help her outside and down the steps.

  She needed some exercise. Laying inside for days at a time wasn’t something she would normally do. She wished she could go for a quick run, even a half mile would make her feel better.

  She couldn’t wait until her ribs healed a little more, maybe another week and she could do a really slow jog. She craved the feeling of accomplishment, and the endorphins, that she got from her workouts. It was something that helped her cope after the shitshow her marriage had turned into.

  For now, she settled for walking.

  She followed the path behind the lodge toward the cabins and the woods beyond. This was the trail Jim and Cam used when they ran. If she did the complete loop, it would equal about four miles. She decided to do one mile, then head back. No sense in pushing it right now.

  At a half mile in, she ran into Ed.

  “Angie! What are you doing so far out here?” he asked, consternation crossing his kind face.

  “I couldn’t sit down another minute! The inactivity was driving me crazy,” she replied.

  Ed chuckled. “Yeah, I know a bit about that. My foot trouble starts flaring up, and I don’t move for days.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a few moments before Angie spoke again. “Do you think we’ll make it, Ed?”

  A serious expression crossed marred his genial features. He let out a breath and gave her a sad smile.

  “Everyone dies eventually. I’m likely going to die sooner than you, but in the end, we all will. Now, if you mean to ask if we will be able to make it through this zombie situation, then yes. We have a good chance…on one condition.”

  She looked at him. “What condition?”

  “We all toughen up, smarten up, and adapt.”

  He was right.

  She had made a stupid decision in leaving the store to find Cam that first time, and she had paid for it. She let her ego and pride come before the safety of others when she told Cam to go with Jim to secure this island and get the survivors from the station.

  She didn’t cause those thugs to break in and do what they did, but she was part of the reason they paid such a heavy price.

  “You’re right, Ed. We’ve…I have been behaving as if everything were the same as before. I can’t do that anymore.”

  “It’s not just you. Jessica is too tender-
hearted for this world. She’s going to have a hard time changing. Bradley…Bradley is a product of a society that doesn’t exist anymore. He doesn’t have the luxury of living that way now. He’ll have to toughen up or he will die.”

  “What about you, Ed?” she asked.

  “Me? I’ll do what I can…until I can’t anymore,” was all he said.

  “Thanks, Ed. You’ve really made me understand some things more clearly.”

  She stood and left.

  She needed to find Jim.

  ◆◆◆

  Jim was busy setting up some sort of contraption when Angie found him.

  “What’s this?” she asked, touching the rope he had looped over the limb of a nearby tree.

  “This is going to be one of our early warning devices,” he said, pulling the rope down.

  “What will you do with it?”

  “I’m going to tie it around these trees as far as I can make it go. Then, I’m going to get those soda cans over there and put a couple rocks in each one and attach them to the rope. Easy warning device,” he said.

  “Can I help?”

  He tossed her the end of the rope in reply.

  ◆◆◆

  Thirty minutes later, they had their first layer of security on the eastern side of the lodge.

  Angie felt a sense of satisfaction, even just helping with something so small. She wanted to do more…after she rested a bit.

  “Jim, after I take a nap will you teach me to shoot, the right way?”

  He looked at her and must have seen her seriousness, because he agreed without any arguments or teasing.

  Cam

  Cam called for all vehicles to halt.

  He stopped them at the end of the back road they would take to get to the store. He wanted to do a quick recon, and make sure they weren’t walking into a bad situation.

  He plugged in the earbuds to the radio and turned the volume down a little.

  He stepped out of the SUV and slung his rifle on his back. His ax would have to stay on his belt for the time being, until he got a sling from the store.

  He walked up to the rental truck and Jack rolled the window down.

  “I’m going to go recon the store. I want you all to stay alert and watch your back. I want you guys to set up a defensive perimeter around the vehicles. It won’t be a great one but put Jean to the left and I want you on the right. I want Monica on top of the rental truck with a clear three-sixty-degree view.”

  “Roger,” Jack said.

  “If you see any danger, give me three clicks on the radio. I give you three clicks if I see anything that would cause us to turn around. You get my three clicks; you be ready to go as soon as I get back. One click means all is well,” he told him.

  They took up their positions and Cam gave each of them specific instructions.

  “Jean, don’t fire your weapons unless a life depends on it. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “If any Zulus get close, take them out hand to hand,” he reminded them again.

  He wished he had a trained team to work with, but he would get them up to speed eventually. It had once been part of his job after all.

  He just hoped nobody died in the process.

  ◆◆◆

  Cam ran up the road, staying inside the tree line as long as he could.

  He stopped and took a knee, listening for any movement. He stood and made his way up to the street behind the rear of the store. They were lucky this place backed up to the woods. They would have an easier time staying concealed.

  He sat and watched for five minutes, seeing no movement. He also saw no dead bodies. He supposed that was a good sign. He clicked the radio once and waited for a reply. A second later, he received one click.

  He waited another ten minutes, checking in with the others at five-minute intervals.

  All was well, so far.

  He made his way carefully around the front of the store. This direction faced the rest of the small town— well, more like a developed intersection. The real expansion hadn’t really made it this far out yet.

  The front of the store faced the main intersection, which was surrounded by a small clothing retailer, a community bank, a fast-food restaurant, and a gas station.

  He knew there was a heavily occupied trailer park down the road, but it was a couple of miles away. Hopefully, its residents had left for greener pastures already.

  The front doors were unlocked and opened automatically for him.

  The store was eerie.

  The lights were still on inside and the air conditioning felt wonderful on his sweaty skin. He walked in, wondering why management hadn’t at least locked the doors as they left. There appeared to have been some looting. Smashed glass cases had been ransacked, but it looked like most of the good stuff remained.

  Why hadn’t they taken it?

  He jogged back to the SUV and drank a bottle of water. He grabbed his ruck and put it in the front seat.

  “Everybody over here,” he said firmly.

  Jack and Jean walked over quickly, but it took Monica a moment longer to climb down from the top of the truck.

  “We’re going to go in through the back. I’ll be the lead vehicle, just follow me. Park facing out toward the exit. We’re going to load up what we need the most, then get out of there. Remember, take down any straggling Z with your blades. Let’s go.”

  They drove up to the back of the store, Cam in the lead, and parked as instructed.

  They jumped out and went in the rear door. The back room was stocked with merchandise, very similar to the other store, though on a smaller scale.

  “Take all the most common rifles, pistols, and shotguns and all the ammo you can carry. Specifically, I want .22 rounds, 9 mils, .38s, .45s, and .357 for the pistols. Make sure you get all the shotgun loads, and slugs.”

  He looked at them to make sure they were tracking, then continued quickly.

  “For rifles, I want you to concentrate on the long-range weapons first, then move on to the medium and closer range.”

  They nodded.

  “Jack, I want you in charge of keeping track, making sure we get the appropriate stuff. I’m going to load up some other gear from the front of the store.”

  They worked fast, Jean loading carts full of ammo and smaller weapons and pushing them to the truck and emptying them. Monica and Jim did the same and concentrated on the shotguns and rifles. They also grabbed extra shooting gear and cleaning supplies as well.

  As the others were loading the firearms, Cam concentrated on filling his carts with a wide range of clothing and footwear. He made sure to get only the best, and in every size they had available. He finished up in that section by loading one cart full of wool and wool blend socks.

  No sense in getting blisters, frostbite, or trench foot by wearing cheap cotton.

  He moved on to the outdoors section and took every available water purification kit, including the straws, tablets, portable filters, and several large water distillation units. On top of this he piled the entire stock of fire starters, batteries, and headlamps.

  On his way back, pushing two carts full of goods, he spotted something that could really give them an advantage.

  An untouched case full of optics. He piled these on top and rushed out to load up his supplies.

  At the back of the truck, he saw things were coming along nicely. They had about three-quarters of the weapons and ammo loaded up and had plenty of room for more. Cam left Jean to unload his carts and he bounded back into the store.

  On the way to the front, he passed a pallet loaded with commercial MRE’s.

  They probably didn’t have as good a shelf life, but they would keep them alive, and they could put caches of them out in different locations.

  He grabbed a nearby pallet jack and pulled the fully loaded pallet out to the truck. He cut the plastic and started tossing boxes.

  “Cam, I think we have a problem,” Jean said, fear evident in her voice.

  She
pointed.

  He looked toward the direction she pointed, and his heart dropped. Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream, spurring him to action.

  “Get in the car!” he shouted at Jean.

  “Jack! Monica! On me now!” he shouted toward the building, sprinting for the door. He made it onto the sales floor as they were rushing toward him.

  “A herd! We’ve got to go now!” he said while running.

  They followed quickly. As they reached the door, a flood of the dead rounded the front of the rental truck, cutting off their only way out.

  “Back inside! Lock the front doors, now!” he yelled to Jack and Monica.

  Jean was still in the cruiser, a small group of Zulus between her and the door.

  “Jean, stay there!” he shouted.

  He attempted to fight his way to the cruiser, but more came pouring around the vehicles.

  “Go! Go!” he yelled, motioning her to leave.

  He ran back in and locked and barricaded the door.

  “Jean, come in,” he transmitted on the radio.

  “Jean, do you read?” he tried again.

  Monica came running to the back of the store. “Cam, Jean left her radio here. Did she leave?!”

  “She had no choice. She never would have made it in,” he said, breathing heavily.

  “Are the doors secured?” he barked.

  “They’re locked. They’ll hold for now. I think they’re ballistic glass, that will give us more time,” she said.

  Cam ran to the front of the store and ducked behind the chest-high wall of a register.

  He looked around the side and saw a large crowd of the dead trying to lunge through the doors. It was obscene and terrifying.

  He backed away. They needed to shut off the lights and set up some blinds in front of the doors. Maybe they’d forget and wander off…

  Chapter Eight

  Turning the Tide

  Jim

  It was nearing dark when Jim and Angie finished their impromptu firearms instruction course. Jim did the best he could using his police department’s SOP and the S.W.A.T. training he’d received.