Zombie Fallout 14

by Mark Tufo

“Luckily for you, there won’t be much to take.”

  “This is fucking funny to you? A bomb planted in my house? The house that is full of my loved ones? That’s somehow funny?”

  “They’ll be all right; that’s why I warned you.”

  “And if one of your little lackeys gets a little antsy with the trigger?”

  “Accidents happen.”

  “Come to think about it, I suppose they do. Funny thing about accidents is you don’t know where or when they’re going to strike. I understand the self-preservation thing you’ve got going on, but does any small part of your warped brain think this is going to work? That Bennington is just going to hand over the keys to the castle?”

  “What choice will he have? What good is reigning over nothing?”

  “The same could be said about what happens if you detonate everything.”

  “Perhaps, though it won’t come to that. All I need is a few well-placed examples.”

  “Hear something,” Stenzel said through my earpiece.

  “You might want to give me a gun,” Deneaux said. “Someone’s coming.”

  “Do you have bat ears?” I, as of yet, had still heard nothing, and there was no way she’d heard Stenzel talking in my ear. “Going to hold off on the gun, for now, you can understand that, right?”

  “It’ll be fine, I’ll pry one from someone’s cold dead hands.”

  “Yeah, we’re done. Gonna find a nice seat to handcuff you to.” Grabbed her shoulder and pushed her forward.

  “You sure you want to do that?” she asked.

  We watched as four black Suburbans drove onto the runway on the far side of the airfield.

  “I don’t like it when they color coordinate their rides.” That I said out loud; the rest I kept internally. Uniformity generally meant discipline, and discipline was what military units were all about.

  “Sir, you seeing this?” Stenzel asked.

  “Everyone pull back. Here.” I handed Deneaux my pistol. She, for whatever reason, wanted me dead but her staying alive for now trumped that, and I, generally, was in a position to make that happen. She, in turn, would do her best to protect my life, until this threat was neutralized, then all bets were off.

  “Any chance they’re friendly?” Gary asked.

  Stenzel was looking through the binoculars. “Sun glare is tough, but even if it wasn’t, their windows are tinted.”

  The three large SUVs had spread out so that they were in a line; we were looking directly at their windshields.

  “I’d feel a whole lot better if those were mini-vans,” I said.

  “Mr. T?” Tommy asked.

  “I mean, how intimidating are soccer mom rides?”

  “Someone could still come out with a machine gun,” Gary added. “I’ve seen some pretty sore losers among parents…”

  “True enough,” I told him.

  A man stepped out. He was dressed all in black but not like he was the bad guy in a Western. Rather like one of those security companies that used to send what they called “guards” over to third-world countries when, in reality, they were nothing more than mercenaries. Even from here, I could tell he was wearing mirrored sunglasses.

  “Shit,” I muttered. Assholes with guns were bad enough, trained assholes with guns were a whole lot worse. “Where’s Rose when you need her?”

  “Heckler and Koch, UMP.” Stenzel was still looking through the binoculars. “Pretty sweet machine gun.”

  “Caliber?” I asked.

  “Forty or forty-five—if he lets me hold it, I’ll be able to tell you.”

  “Somehow, I’ve got a feeling that isn’t going to happen,” I told her.

  Eastman and Jackson had joined our small party, both armed with pistols.

  “Can anybody else fly this thing?” I asked.

  “In this group? I don’t think so,” Eastman replied.

  “Then, sir, I am respectfully telling you to get back in the plane,” I told him. “You two get killed and everyone is stuck.”

  “If it’s all the same, we’ll stay,” Major Jackson replied.

  Nothing I could do about it; I’d drink to either of them if they fell in combat. Another man stepped out.

  “Same rifle. If I remember right, that is a preferred weapon of SWAT teams,” Stenzel added.

  “They’re cops?” Gary asked.

  “Maybe at one time,” I said. “I don’t think they’re here to serve and protect right now, not us, anyway.”

  By now, twelve of the men were in a loose circle before they spread out into a straight line and began advancing slowly on our position. They were all nearly the same size and dressed the same, as if maybe they’d all been pressed from the same cookie-cutter.

  “Sir, I made a mistake. Pretty sure those shoot nine-millimeter rounds. The magazine is curved. I don’t think the effective range is more than a hundred meters.” Stenzel had put her binoculars down.

  They had the firepower and manpower on us; all we had at the moment was range. I shouldered my weapon and shot a round over their heads in warning. Not one of them so much as flinched, though they did stop walking. All of their weapons were pointed our way, and just because the effective range was three hundred or so feet didn’t mean that with bullets spraying all over the place, they couldn’t hit us. The bullet itself, while maybe not having the best flight trajectory, could still travel a mile. And even if they didn’t hit us, the plane was a giant fucking target, though, I had to think that might be something they wanted to keep for their own.

  “Gary, keep an eye on our six. If they’re pros, they’re not going to just come in from the front. I’m going to see what the assholes want.”

  “Want some company, sir?” Stenzel asked.

  “No. Come anyway,” I told her. “Tommy, anything happens to us, try to get this bird out of here.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Eastman asked.

  “Not die, for starters,” I told him.

  “If you weren’t trying to save our lives, I’d dress you down for your lack of military decorum,” he said.

  I looked at him like he was eating a live chicken. “Right. If we live, sir, feel free to write me up while we’re having a beer.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “Tommy, get Major Overland on the radio. Keep the line open and let him know what’s going on,” I said. Tommy looked stern, probably he was sharing the same bad feeling about this that I was.

  Eastman and Jackson headed back into the plane. If the shit that was aimed directly at the fan hit, I don’t know if they could get started up and gone before it sprayed on them. Stenzel and I kept our weapons shouldered as we moved forward. I’d hoped one of the men would come closer; instead, they stayed where they were, seemingly content for us to come to them.

  “Assholes,” I said.

  “Sir?”

  “I don’t like that they look like they know what they’re doing.”

  “Jealousy, sir?”

  “Don’t make me regret taking you with me.”

  “Yes sir, because I couldn’t think of a better place to be than this.”

  “Sarcasm, Stenzel? You looking for a promotion?”

  “Just to stay alive would be enough, sir.”

  “Roger that.” We both got quiet as we got closer and still none of the men had moved. “Sale at the uniform surplus store?” I asked. We’d stopped some twenty-five feet from them.

  “Same place your mother shops,” one of the men on the far side said. He could have been the first out, but seriously, even their facial hair was similar. That they all wanted to look alike struck a discordant tone within me.

  “Can I ask why you’re here?”

  “Go ahead,” the same man replied.

  I looked over at Stenzel, who glanced side-eyed at me.

  “I, umm, just did.”

  “You asked if you could ask; that’s different.”

  The anal proclivity was strong with this one, or maybe the OCD, or I guess he could have been
somewhere on the autism spectrum. But instead of trying to make excuses for him, I decided he was just a giant asshole. Typically, the most obvious answer is usually it.

  “Why are you here?” It was difficult for me to keep the contempt out of my voice, but if he noticed he didn’t acknowledge it.

  “I’m through answering questions.”

  I couldn’t get a bead on this group. They didn’t have their weapons up, Stenzel and I could do some serious damage, we’d die in the end, but we’d take a bunch of them with us.

  “We live here. Why are you here?”

  “It’s New York; we’re here for the bagels, oh, and this might be hard to believe but my brother wants some PJ’s from the M&M’s store.”

  “This one’s a fucking hoot,” the man whom I could only assume was the leader said. “Haven’t had a decent bagel since this started. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I had fresh bread. Now I asked you a question.”

  “Lieutenant, can you extract yourself from the situation?” it was Major Overland. Tommy had been keeping him updated. I cannot even tell you how difficult it was for me to try to talk to my new asshole friend while a conversation was going on in my head. Usually, I had the problem of both conversations knocking each other out, like noise-canceling headphones.

  “That’s a negative,” I replied.

  “A negative? Are you saying you won’t answer my question?” Asshat number one was looking riled.

  “Oh, sorry,” I told him. “Was talking to my backup.” I could feel Stenzel’s sidelong look at me.

  “Backup? They hiding in the plane, sucking on their mama’s teats?” I was glad when his men didn’t start doing all that fake laughter to appease their leader shit. That’s always a cue that things are only going to get worse.

  “Okay, let’s start over…all this gun pointing can’t be good for my chi. I’m Lieutenant Talbot, this is Corporal Stenzel. We’re Marines, as are the rest of our group back there.”

  He said nothing as he looked over my shoulder, maybe looking for my help—or his.

  “I know New Yorkers aren’t necessarily known for their overt friendliness, but this is usually where you would introduce yourself as well.”

  “Fine, I’ll play your game. I’m Mitch.” And that was it. I’d had more success pulling information from a rebellious teen, and, seriously, I’d not had much luck in that department.

  “Okay, Mitch, here’s the thing, we’re here for just a short time, have a mission to complete then we’ll be out of your way,” I told him.

  I could see nothing except the reflection of myself in his glasses. Well, that and the bore of my weapon pointing at him, which, for some unfathomable reason, he did not seem to care about. That was puzzling and somewhat disconcerting; not many sane people will stare down the barrel of a rifle and not be at least uneasy about it.

  “Who’s the woman?” he asked referring to Deneaux.

  “Trade? I’ll let you have her in exchange for safe passage.”

  “I don’t know how many more of your jokes I can take,” Mitch replied.

  “I think he’s serious,” Stenzel said.

  Mitch gave a nod of his head. The men with him all raised their rifles; I was impressed with the precision and timing.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not do anything hasty.” I had one hand out. “Seriously, Mitch, this is an in and out and we’re gone scenario. No one needs to die.”

  “Die?” He cocked his head. “Happens a lot these days.”

  Mitch might not be certifiable, but he was heading that way like he was late for an appointment. But then again, that seemed to be the way of the world now. “It doesn’t have to happen here, not today. Not right now.”

  “There’s more of us, you realize.” I didn’t know if he meant here, which was true, or that there were more of them out there and all of this was a stall tactic for them to get into position. “Last time I’m going to ask.”

  “Rescue mission, Mitch, that’s what we’re doing here. One of our own needs help and we’re here to get him.”

  “Washington is a long way to travel to retrieve someone.”

  I tried to keep my face impassive. There was a good chance he thought we were working for the remnants of the United States government and had only come up from DC, which wasn’t all that far, considering.

  “Cops? Are you guys cops? Or were you?” I asked.

  Mitch may have ever so slightly turned to look at one of the men with him, it was then I noticed the earpiece. Fuck, they were wired, too. Odds were my entire squad, including me, had a scoped rifle pointing on us.

  “I suppose once upon a time,” he said. “Now the only people we protect are our own.”

  “I understand that completely. Stenzel lower your weapon.”

  “Sir?”

  I let mine down slowly and let it rest on the tactical strap. Mitch’s men did not follow suit, though Stenzel did as I asked.

  “What do you have on the plane?”

  “Basic supplies.”

  “Food?”

  “Food-ish, got a pallet of MREs.”

  Mitch nodded, his men lowered their weapons.

  “Want it?” I asked, thinking I may have had an in.

  “Gunny is going to be pissed,” Stenzel mumbled.

  “He can go a meal or two without food,” I told her.

  “You realize if we have to stay here for an extended amount of time, we’re going to need that, right?” Overland asked.

  “Respectfully, sir, you’re not the one staring down multiple machine gun barrels.” He was quiet after that. “Sorry, party line,” I said, pointing to my ear.

  “Your SEAL team, correct?”

  I did not like that he was so much in the know, while I was fumbling around in the dark looking not only for a switch to turn on a light but the wall where the button resided.

  “I wouldn’t say, my SEAL team.”

  “Is that the backup you’re referring to?”

  “Get out of there, Talbot,” Overland said.

  I wanted to tell him that was easier said than done.

  “Why don’t I get the food for you, you guys can go home, have a feast, we do what we came here for, and we never have to speak again.”

  “She stays,” Mitch said, referring to Stenzel.

  “It’s a two-person job; it’s a big pallet.”

  “You’ve got plenty of help back there.”

  “Stenzel get the pallet. I’ll stay here and make idle chit-chat with our gracious host.”

  “I’m from New York; I get sarcasm,” Mitch said.

  “Probably a Yankees fan, too.”

  “Greatest baseball team to have ever existed. Thought I caught that butchery of the English language; that is a Bostonian accent. And in case you were hoping, a long-dead rivalry does not make us friends. I don’t give a shit which one of you stays, but one of you is.”

  “Go,” I said to Stenzel, who didn’t question me. “Mind if I sit?”

  Mitch said nothing.

  “You’d think after a flight the last thing you’d want to do was sit, but they tend to drain me, especially after having to go through security. It’s no fun having all of your body cavities explored.”

  “Maybe you should just shut up,” Mitch said.

  “How’s this going to end?” I asked, grabbing my canteen and getting a drink of water. Right now, I was wishing it was beer and was pondering filling it with that sweet nectar on my next go around.

  Mitch nodded again; not sure how much information he could convey that way, but two men advanced on me with weapons drawn. Once my hands were in the air, a third came and relieved me of my weapons and comms. Mitch put my piece in his other ear, and he made sure to shut off the transmission aspect.

  “Well, the first thing is we’re going to take that food you offered, then when your SEAL team is in position, we’re going to take them out, along with your squad.”

  “Why?” I was stalling, racking my brain for answers
. Surely Gary and Tommy knew something was up now that my hands were in the air.

  “Because you’re a representative of the government, and from what we’ve learned, the government is what put us in this situation.”

  “Listen, I’m no fan of the government either, and you may or may not be right about how the zombies came to be, but I’m telling you, we’re here on a rescue. That’s it. Nothing covert.” If he was angry about the potential for the government’s involvement regarding the zees, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to tell him that in our little corner of the world, we were responsible for smartening them up.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “You were cops, right? Probably a special-ops unit? You were all part of the government once.” I was trying to appeal to some part of him. Was sort of like hitting a cement wall with a rubber mallet—sure you can get in some hard licks, but overall, it’s not going to do any damage and a potentially nasty ricochet could take you right out.

  “Then I realized the error of my ways. You are the enemy; it’s as simple as that.”

  “The enemy is out there. It’s the zombies that are destroying us. Humans can’t afford to kill each other.”

  “Bo, shut him up.” Bo was coming up to me, the buttstock of his weapon raised high. I was waiting for the brain-rattling pain; had not been expecting the spray of blood across my face.

  I was shocked for about half a second and then on the move. Bo was twisting down, his upper leg was a mangled tangle of blood, flesh and muscle. I stood and ripped the weapon free from him as he toppled to his side, groaning loudly. Going to go out on a limb here and say his femur was broken; he was paralyzed with pain.

  “Put them down now!” I had Bo’s weapon and I hoped the safety was off as I pointed it, but right now, I wasn’t the most significant threat as the men looked around for the sniper that had taken one of them out. Mitch was mumbling into his headset. I placed the barrel of the weapon against his forehead. “Shut up,” I said calmly. “Earpieces. Take them out, place them on the ground.”

  Mitch’s men looked stunned; whatever they had planned, this wasn’t it. In all fairness, no one really preps for a shot to the thigh. Mitch reluctantly did what I told him.

  “Mitch, tell your men to put their weapons down.” I had mine pressed against the other man’s skull but had five pointed at me while the rest got into a more defensive posture around their vehicles. So much for containment.