We settle to eating quietly, all finishing at the same time despite my extra helping, and I know in that moment that it’s going to take me a while to get used to being hungry. Kimberly stacks our plates and sets them aside, then we all retire to one of the couches.
“I didn’t want to ask you in front of the others,” Kimberly starts, “But have you put any thought into staying?”
“I... I dunno. Not really,” I tell her honestly. I bite my lower lip for a moment, deciding how much I should share with the Ims about my plans in the city, finally deciding that there’s simply no reason to lie, or shield my intentions. “I sort of have a mission. From Dale.”
At the odd looks that Tim and Kimberly give me, I start blurting out facts in no particular order. “Not really... well, yes, from him... but it was his mission. He never formally asked me to take up the mantle, but I think he would have wanted me to. If I can find his father, then maybe I can help with... I dunno... fixing things, or, uh... maybe a better serum? I mean, the one the doctor came up with is good, more than good... but we need more, and I don’t even know if anyone knows that he made it, or how it works, or anything, and -”
“Whoa,” Tim says, returning my attention to the present. He does a little roll of his eyes, implying comically that I’ve dizzied him with my prattle. “That was a lot of words, all coming out at once. Why don’t we take it back a notch? Let’s see... who are you looking for?”
“Dale’s father, Colonel Bennett. He was stationed in Middleton right before Lockdown, so it seems a good place to start looking.”
“I doubt he’s here now,” Kimberly says, adjusting herself so that her legs are lying across Tim’s lap with her back propped up by the pillow on the end of the couch that they both occupy. “All the big players went back to San Angeles as soon as things started to get messy. In fact, from what I understand, most of them were gone before the evacuation in Carnassey even began.”
Although I came here knowing that there was a very small chance that Colonel Bennett was actually in town, Kimberly’s statement has me feeling deflated.
“But,” she says, noticing the change in my demeanor, “when we’re strong enough to get into the Gov’s area, we’ll be able to find all of the answers that we need. Someone there will know about the evacuations, and where your Colonel went, and everything.”
“Not to mention the supplies we stand to gain,” Tim adds.
“What kind of supplies?” I ask naively.
“We don’t know exactly,” Kimberly says, “but they control the majority of the supplies in the city. At least they did before things went all sideways, so we’ve no idea what they still have. There are rumors that they even have power.”
“Katie,” Tim asks. “Derek said that you were walking in the middle of the street when he found you. And this morning, when you pointed out the road that you followed into the city... it must have taken a while to get in that far...”
He trails off, but Kimberly picks up the train of thought. “We know that you said that there aren’t many infected people in that part of town, but still... how did you do it? Without provoking an attack?”
I respond quickly, leaving no opportunity for hesitation or second-guessing. “Do you guys remember what Dr. Ashmore was working on? You know, before thing got... bad?” Bad. What an understatement.
They both nod. It would be hard to forget.
I proceed to tell them about Dr. Ashmore’s research, the serum, and what I discovered the day that I went for fuel. I tell them all of the important stuff, up to and including my walk from the station wagon into Middleton. “And then Derek and Kyle brought me here.”
It takes a minute for the Ims to digest this information. They knew that Dr. Ashmore was administering his experimental serums on people at the MegaMart after lockdown, and we all know what happened after that, but I imagine it was a bit of a shock to find out that not only did a version of his serum work, but that I was protected by it.
“So... they don’t attack you at all?” Tim asks finally. “Or they don’t see you?”
“I guess they just don’t attack,” I say. “I mean, I can talk to them, touch them, anything, and they’ll look at me, but then it’s like they get bored. Usually, they just wander off and ignore me after that.”
“We’re going to have to tell Glory and the others about this,” Tim says. I assume by ‘the others,’ he means the other team leaders.
“How many times have you tried approaching them?” Kimberly asks.
“I started in Carnassey...” I ponder this for a moment, counting back the days in my head. I’m not much for dates, and rarely consider how time passes. “I tested it out in little pieces, until I could walk into town from the MegaMart, which is how I got the car. Then, once I drove here, I walked into the city... I saw lots of them, but - same thing - they just got bored of me.”
“So really,” Tim says, in a tone that I want to refer to as his ‘Dad voice,’ “You don’t know much at all about how the serum works, or what limitations it might have? It could wear off or be partial to certain infected people only... or it could be making you sick inside.”
“I guess,” I say with a shrug that I hope suggests a little bit more casualness then I feel. “That’s another good reason for me to find Bennett. I have Dr. Ashmore’s journal, and I hope it’s enough to tell them whatever they need to know about the serum.”
“Katie,” Kimberly says. “The Gov that’s left here has no contact with the Gov in San Angeles. They can’t help you, and you can’t trust them.”
“They’re dangerous,” Tim adds.
I let out a grumble, not irritated with them, but rather, with the reality of the situation. Asking the local Gov for help was my only plan. “But what am I supposed to do? Walk to S’Angeles?” Sighing, I deflate further into my chair, my cheek resting on the back of my hand. Really, I should be grateful that Derek and Kyle found me when they did. If the local Gov is as awful as everyone seems to think, then walking out to greet that tank yesterday could have turned into bad news, fast. And until I can deliver the journal to Bennett, I really should be more careful. I’ve come too far to turn back, and whatever it takes, I will see that journal into the right hands. I’ll make the right people aware of my immunity. And I’ll make Dale proud.
“The world’s a mess,” Tim says casually. “You’ll just have to come up with a new plan.”
I nod. There isn’t anything else I can do. At least here, I have help. Something pops into my head suddenly - something Derek said in the planning room earlier. I look up at the Ims and ask, “What kind of training do you do here?”
“Oh,” says Kimberly. “All kinds. We’re very lucky. Derek has lots of experience with both fighting, and self-defense techniques, and Erin was a boot camp instructor.
I can’t remember who Erin is, but I guess that she’s the other team leader.
Kimberly continues, “They each teach two classes in the morning, one for the younger, newer, or less physically able people, and one for the people who go into the city. Each team attends one class, we have breakfast, and then we switch to the other class.”
“How often do you do this?” I ask.
“Every other day,” Tim answers. “It keeps everyone sharp. Sometimes we run evacuation drills instead. Or teach everyone a practical skill that a new member of our team might have brought in. The point is just to keep everyone in shape, aware, and safe.”
“Which team will I be on?” I ask. I can already imagine how the group’s divided up. The remedial class would consist of Kenny, the younger teens, a man I saw with a broken leg, and Glory, if she participates, while the others would be in the regular class.
“We start everyone in the beginner class, and move them up when they’re ready,” Kimberly says, very diplomatically.
I nod again. Remedial class for me.
At my first training session, I find myself at the mercy of a nearly tyrannical Erin, who, like I had guessed, is the other team lea
der.
She had seemed so very sweet at dinner last night, asking me if I had a nice sleep the night before, and thanking me for being so thoughtful when I packed up the supplies that Derek and his team had been able to collect from the station wagon.
Now we’re all crawling around on the floor with one arm bandaged up in a sling as part of Erin’s ‘hands on’ learning approach.
When we get a two minute water break, Kenny, the bunny girl, tells me that Erin often imagines up every possible limitation that we might be faced with out in the world, then finds a way to duplicate it during our training, so that we’ll be prepared if the time ever came that we had to crawl around with an arm in an actual sling. She tells me how they did climbing with a broken leg last week, and once they spent three sessions in a row training with their eyes covered. It’s clear that Kenny relishes every minute of training.
I’m glad to have been assigned to the remedial class. I can’t imagine how rigorous the regular class would be.
By the time we reach the breakfast table, I’m ecstatic to see a slice of protein bar, canned corn, and a handful of my favorite cereal. I wolf it all down in record time, remembering the days of lounging around at the MegaMart with an odd kind of fondness... As though it had taken place months ago instead of just days.
When breakfast’s finished, I watch Kimberly and the man with the broken leg collecting up the dishes. As I follow the rest of the remedial group back to the training room to see what Derek has in store for us, I suddenly find myself wishing that I had been assigned to dish duty.
Chapter 10 – Fight vs. Flight
Derek, as it turns out, is a brilliant leader, although I can’t imagine any scenario in which I would tell him that. He runs his training classes as though he’s the be-all and end-all of survival training. His lessons are highly structured, specific, and leave little room for opinions that aren't his own. If he had a motto, I imagine it would include words like ‘definitive’ and ‘secure.’ If I were writing it for him, it would include words like ‘giant tool’ and ‘Naziesque.’
I would complain about his self-righteous approach a little more if he weren't so damned effective. I don’t know how they run things in the advanced class, but in my remedial class, he somehow finds a way to make the lessons accessible to each person, working effortlessly around the personal limitations or lack of experience that brought each of us to the remedial class to begin with.
Glory, I quickly learn, does participate in the classes. Her training is modified to a minimum of weight, resistance, and reps, and never leaves her tired, but does keep her moving throughout the class. If she were actually attacked someday, the training would do her little good, but it does keep her healthy and mobile.
For the man with the broken leg, whose name I still can’t remember, Derek works mostly his upper body, with a plan to slowly rehabilitate his leg as it heals, without antagonizing the injury. The few teens in the class are all very capable of doing everything that Derek throws at them, and he pushes them to their physical and mental limits by the end of the session. In fact, they are all so adept that I have to ask Tim why they’re in remedial at all, and why they aren’t allowed to join either Derek or Erin’s teams for missions. His answer is simple. They’re too young to risk their lives for the others.
The group has a strict over eighteen policy in place for the retrieval teams, and even Kyle, who is eighteen exactly, has only ever shadowed his older brother, and never led a mission himself. I make a mental note to ask Kyle about this at some point.
Kenny, the youngest resident, does fabulously. If you were to compare her size to the relative size of the things she’s expected to throw, swing, and shove, she’s easily as strong as me, and just as quick. She loves the self-defense lessons, and is almost always the demo girl when Derek’s teaching a new move. I imagine part of this is to prove his point that, even if the assailant is a lot bigger and stronger, a knowledgeable person stands a decent chance. That, and Kenny is the only person who ever volunteers. I still have to wonder though, as he grabs the tiny girl, allowing her to practice her defensive maneuvers on him, if he’s really trying, or simply holding back to help build up her confidence, and better show off the way the moves are supposed to work.
Between Erin’s class focusing on moving around safely and getting from place to place, even while injured or disabled in some way, and Derek’s self-defense and offensive training, they have a pretty well rounded system. And although I’d rather focus on the escapist tactics of Erin’s class than the fighting tactics of Derek’s class, I don’t speak up until my third training session.
We’d done a bit of weapons training in my first two classes, using items commonly found in the streets, like car antennas, bits of glass, and blunt objects like rocks, but this is different.
When we arrive in class, Derek’s standing there, wearing his usual leather jacket and casual scowl; his arms are crossed in front of his chest. His sunglasses are sitting atop his head, which seems odd as the only time I’ve ever seen him wear them was the day we met, when we were actually outside. There are two large duffle bags at his feet. I recognize them immediately as being military issue, and very similar to the ones that Dale and the other soldiers had brought with them to the MegaMart on Lockdown Day.
Once everyone has assembled and taken their usual places in the training room, Derek unzips the first bag, confirming my fears. The bags are full of guns.
“We’re going to be doing something a little different today.” Derek announces over the loud murmurs of the crowd. It’s immediately clear that no one in the class is used to being around firearms. In fact, the only gun that I’ve seen since arriving in Middleton is the one that Derek had been carrying the day we met.
Derek begins to answer our questions before we ask them. “For anyone who’s wondering, we were able to retrieve these from the tank at the edge of town. After the success of the retrieval mission to Katie’s car, we sent in another team to check out the other vehicles,” Derek informs us.
Well, that would certainly explain the extra pillows, blankets, food, and clothes that the teams have been bringing in for the last few days. Everyone’s been talking about the success of the recent missions, and many people have thanked me for my contribution, but I hadn’t guessed that sending them to my station wagon would lead to them being able to raid the other vehicles that had tried to get out of Middleton.
I notice that Derek is still talking, and tune back in to hear the answer to the last question asked.
“That’s a good question. We don’t know why the tank was abandoned, but we found the weapons inside, and were able to pack them up and bring them back here safely yesterday.” He pauses; receiving no further questions, he starts emptying the bags.
I stand frozen on the spot as everyone else gathers around him. He chooses each weapon carefully, assigning them to his students based on their size, and how well he thinks they can maneuver them.
Kenny’s the last to approach him. She stands up on her toes, peering into the bag with curiosity.
I see Derek look up at Glory, who nods her head in response to his implied question. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a small handgun, then holds it out to her. “There are no bullets in any of them.”
Kenny hesitates, looking from the gun up to Derek, then back at the gun.
“Just hold onto it,” Derek says, still holding out the gun for her inspection. “It’s a lot heavier than it looks. But you’re so strong, I think you can handle it.”
At this, Kenny cracks a little smile. She reaches out and pinches the handle of the gun between her thumb and index finger.
Derek pretends to drop the gun, making a teasing sound at the little girl. “Careful.”
Kenny grabs up the gun with both hands, and walks back over to her spot, smiling at her own accomplishment.
Derek stands back up, holding a gun of his own. “Alright everyone, a few ground rules. None of the guns are loaded, but you’ll all trea
t them as though they are. If you point your gun at anything that is not: A - a zombie, or B - becoming a zombie - I will take it away. Understood?”
Everyone nods and replies with ‘Yes’ or a variation thereof.
“Good,” Derek says. “Once the guns are loaded, if you point your gun at anything that is not: A - a zombie, or B - becoming a zombie - I will shoot you in the leg.”
“No warning shot?” The man with the broken leg asks jovially, knocking at his own already damaged limb.
Derek smirks. “That is the warning shot.” He looks over everyone again. “Is that understood?”
Everyone nods and replies even more loudly.
“Alright, I want you all to become familiar with your guns, feel how heavy they are, identify the safety mechanism. Then check out someone else’s, and do the same. You have five minutes to do this.” As the others begin investigating their guns, careful not to point them at anyone, Derek picks up a handgun similar to Kenny’s, and walks straight over to me.
“Everyone participates,” he says, shoving the gun into my hands.
I begin to protest, but Derek just glares at me until I back down. I do as I have been instructed, and examine my gun. He’s right, it is very heavy, heavier than I expected for such a little thing. It’s also very scary. Even though I rationally know that it’s not loaded, I hold it like it’s a lit stick of dynamite, ready to take my arm off at any moment.
After a few minutes have passed, Derek teaches us how to load and unload the various guns, then has us each practice holding, pointing, and aiming them as well. Once he’s satisfied that we all understand the basics, he leads us down to the first floor of the building. This floor is clearly not in use, and I can smell the dust in the air. This is the first time that I have been down to the main level since coming up from the basement when I arrived, a week earlier.
Population: Katie Page 10
