The Eliminators 1

by Jacqueline Druga

  Rachel answered. “She means one of them was knowingly infected.”

  “Don’t you fucking answer for me,” Liz snapped.

  “Hey!” Rigs blasted. “Enough. Both of you. Rach, let Liz answer.”

  “Are you taking her side?”

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side. I want to know. Liz?”

  Liz took a second and a breath, then sat down. “Do you think this is what I want to do? The whole eliminator process was my baby. My brainchild. My … stupid unrealistic fantasy that we can save the world. It would have worked, you know, had we just stayed in Pennsylvania, Ohio and West Virginia but I gave in to the president and he took it over. I am merely a soldier in this, like you.”

  “Liz,” Rigs said her name matter of fact.

  “I just …” she held up her hand. “I needed to say that.” She tapped her hand a few times on the arm of the chair. “The cold hard truth is, fifty percent of the population is immune to the virus. Not immune to the effects of a bite or scratch, we haven’t found anyone who is, but immune to the virus. The other fifty percent, like some screwed up fictional comic book, have it in them. Not that it comes out after death, but it will emerge over anything. A cold, a bacterial infection … that’s how so many people came down with it. It doesn’t take much for someone not immune to turn and they turn fast. Everyone turns fast. Those who aren’t immune have been killing those who are immune. It will get to the point that no one will remain.”

  “Have you been separating them?” Rigs asked.

  Liz nodded. “Yes, those west of the Ohio river are not immune. Anyone sent to a survivor city over here can turn at any second. Eliminators are immune. They have to be or we’d have them turning left and right. The separation thing wasn’t my idea. It came after we were able to test for immunity. About six months ago. I truly believed if we cleared towns, put eliminators there, that the towns could be occupied. Maybe if those not immune weren’t exposed at all, they’d be fine. That’s not been the case. The only way to ensure the continuity of mankind is to keep those immune safe from the infected who could kill them. The Center Cities are all immune. Keep the dead away, keep humanity alive.”

  Rachel asked, “Why are you pulling the eliminators?”

  “To keep the east safe and free. We have warehouses vital to survival and they are under siege. We can’t risk losing what’s inside the warehouse, so we need teams.”

  “Basically, you’re retreating,” Rigs said.

  Liz nodded. “We’re pulling all eliminators, sweep teams and we’re concentrating on the east only.”

  “You’re talking east of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers,” Rigs said. “That leaves a hell of a lot of country.”

  “I know,” Liz said with a nod. “Nothing we can do. We need to focus on where we can keep people safe and alive.”

  “But there are still survivors out west,” said Rigs. “People who are probably immune.”

  “Again, I know. But our efforts are in vain. We eliminate, they come back. It’s useless.”

  “Yeah, well,” Rachel said. “People say that about bed bugs but eventually, you hit the area enough, they go away.”

  “Yes, they do, and if you seal it off and starve them out, you get the same results,” Liz replied. “Look, I get it. I don’t want to abandon people. But we have people in the east. That we know we can keep alive. We need eliminators for the warehouses right now and for guard protection, teams to keep the area clean.”

  “What if we don’t go?” Rigs asked. “What if we don’t want to give up on the west and want to keep eliminating.”

  “You won’t be the first. Other teams are out there, but like them,” Liz said. “You’ll be on your own. We will not supply you with ammunition, weapons, food or gas. We need the resources in the east. Listen …” she stepped around the desk. “If you want to do that. God bless you. I will try to help you as much as I can, but … I implore you to come east. You have two team members that really should be settled in a center city. For their sake, get them there. You … go … at least until the warehouses are safe. Warehouses that have food and ammunition.” She raised an eyebrow. “However, it isn’t going to be easy.”

  “If the warehouses are on the east,” Rigs said. “And the east is safe, how are the warehouses bad?”

  “With good people there are bad,” Liz said. “So we …”

  Rachel interrupted. “You put the zombies there as protection so the warehouses would be safe from looters.”

  Liz nodded. “And it got out of control. So, can I count you in this one last time?”

  Rachel looked at Rigs, then to Liz. “Yeah, we’ll do it.”

  “Great. Get some supplies and I’ll will meet you in Center City Two.” She walked to the door.

  “Center City Two?” Rigs asked., “That’s the name?’

  “We all can’t have a creative name like Flaming Saffrons.” Liz opened door. “And Rachel, I really do love the hair.”

  Rachel spewed out a ‘thanks’ just as Liz walked out. She felt the back of her own short hair, then noticed Rigs staring. “What?”

  “She loves your hair."

  “Yeah.”

  “How is that even a topic of conversation right now.” Rigs began to walk. “No, wait. Why is it even a topic of conversation? It must be a female thing.”

  “Oh my God, you’re so sexist.”

  “And there it is.” Rigs kept walking.

  EIGHTEEN

  They hadn’t left yet. Rachel helped Sandy carry the small amount of supplies on to the RV. Rigs stayed outside, talking to different people. It looked as though he was socializing, but Rachel knew he was getting information.

  A little after two in the afternoon, Rigs boarded the RV.

  “Do we know where Kasper went?” Rigs asked.

  “He’ll be right back,” said Barry. “You going to tell us what’s going on?”

  “I will when he gets back,” Rigs replied.

  “Did you get more information?” Rachel asked.

  “I did.”

  “Are we done?” Sandy asked. “Are they eliminating the eliminators?”

  “No, but I’ll get into what’s going on once Kasper gets here.”

  “There’s a lot going on out there,” Sandy pointed to the window. “Do you know?”

  “Sandy,” Rigs said. “I promise once Kasper gets here we will have a team meeting.”

  “Here he comes,” Barry said, looking out the window.

  A few seconds later, Kasper stepped into the RV. “Dudes, you are not going to believe this,” he said. “A block down the street was an Exchange. Guess what I found?” He walked center of the RV and dropped a music disk on the kitchen table. “Flaming Saffrons. Road music.” He smiled and bobbed his head a few times. “Okay … what’s going on?”

  “Have a seat,” Rigs instructed. “We are … heading east. They are pulling all Eliminators, sweep teams, clean up teams from the west. It’s overwhelming and they are focusing on a small area first. The East. Keep it safe and free from the dead.”

  Barry asked. “What about the survivors that are out west who need help?”

  “I know,” Rigs said. “And there are Eliminators who have refused the orders and are staying out west.”

  “We aren’t one of those teams?” asked Kasper.

  “Not at this moment,” Rugs replied. “The west is being called the Deadlands. They hope within a year all infected will die off. They are focusing their efforts on the east. Where people are alive and thriving and I hear, civilization is almost back.”

  “Well,” Jack said. “Starbucks is their civilization claim to fame. I haven’t been there yet.”

  “Yeah, I heard that too,” Rigs said. “However … it’s not as simple as moving Eliminators out east to keep things clean. Eventually yeah. Right now … they have problems. The cleanup teams from months ago have been collecting food, medical supplies and other vital survival items when they sweep towns. They were storing them in wareh
ouses. These supplies are to keep the Center Cities running until they are self-sufficient. Some of these warehouses are overrun with the dead. They can’t access them. Without access, the supplies will dry up for Center Cities before they are self-sufficient, and everything will be for naught.”

  “They can’t use sweep teams,” Rachel said. “Because they only know how to kill masses. They can’t take a chance of the warehouses being destroyed. Is that right?”

  “Bingo,” Rigs snapped his finger. “Hence why they need Eliminator teams. To go into the warehouses and clear the dead.”

  “Oh,” Kasper groaned out. “This is it.”

  “What is it?” Rigs asked.

  Ignoring the question, Kasper turned to Rachel. “Rachel, think about it. This is it. This is it.”

  “Oh my God,” Rachel said.

  “What …” Rigs blasted. “Is it? What are you talking about?”

  “Every story of survival,” Kasper said. “A group of people, whether fictional or real, ends with an event that will ultimately change the lives of the group for better or worse.”

  “You're joking,” Rigs said.

  “No, I'm not. Think about it.” Kasper said. “In real life it could be an earthquake or hurricane, with a group of people trying to get out. In fiction, a book is the ending, TV show is the season finale. You get what I'm talking about?”

  “And …” Rachel added. “Don't forget the four things.”

  Rigs tossed his hands in the air. “I am so confused. Four things?”

  “Yes,” Kasper said. “Four things happen all the time without fail. Someone gets injured, someone pulls at the heartstrings, a red shirt dies, sorry Bill and last, death of a hero.”

  “Okay,” Rigs said. “If you are right, wouldn't our event had been us leaving the Bahamas?”

  “It definitely was an event for us, a big one.” Kasper said. “Think of it more like a season finale instead of a series finale. It definitely sent us into a worse world. And we had the four elements.”

  “Without a doubt,” Rachel said.

  “Rachael was the one that pulled at the heartstrings,” Kasper said. “Lots of people were injured, Cliff died a hero’s death.”

  “And who was the red shirt?” Rigs asked.

  “Greg.

  “Greg was not a red shirt to me.” Rigs said. “I've known him for years.”

  “But there was a random guy that also died on the bus. So red shirt.”

  “And don't forget,” Rachael added. “A person who always says, ‘don’t worry I'll be back or I'll be okay’ or something like that, always dies.”

  Kasper snapped his finger. “You are so right.”

  Barry lifted one hand to get attention. “Guys, I appreciate your output or input. And yes, it is a strange coincidence that leaving the Bahamas had your elements. But I assure you everything is going to be okay, it will be fine.”

  “UGG!” Kasper screamed. “Barry, don't say that. You'll jinx yourself.”

  “Barry will be fine,” Rigs said. “Because Barry is not going on the mission.”

  “What do you mean I'm not going?” Barry asked.

  “We will be assigned warehouses on the West Virginia Pennsylvania border,” Rigs said. “Our mission is to remove all the dead that gather on the outside and inside. I hear there's quite a few. While we’re doing that you and Sandy will be waiting for us in Center City until the mission is complete and we return.”

  “Who made this decision?” Barry asked.

  “I did.” Rigs said.

  “And you made this decision without consulting us?” Barry asked.

  “I'm fine with it,” Sandy said.

  “But I'm not,” Barry replied.

  “I'm sorry,” Rigs said. “But you're not going. This is very dangerous.”

  “Did you make this decision because you didn't think I could handle it?” Barry asked.

  “No,” Rig said with passion. “I made a decision because I can't handle it if something would happen to you.”

  “And what about you, huh?” Barry asked. “What am I supposed to do if something happens to you? How am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to handle it?”

  “Barry, don't worry. I promise you, I'll be fine and I'll be back.”

  Both Rachael and Kasper shouted out “Rigs!”

  Rigs cringed, “Shit.”

  <><><><>

  Center City Two was actually Charleston, West Virginia. A smaller city buried deep within the center of the state.

  The highway on the way there was clear, actually once they made it across the check point on the Ohio River, they didn’t see any dead.

  Roads were empty, towns were barren.

  Rigs was grateful for the final check point. He had all he could take of the music disk Kasper had picked up.

  Was he the only one that didn’t recognize the song Chihuahua Love?

  Rachel was like, “Oh, yeah, I remember this.” Before she started singing along.

  “My God,” said Barry, “Ann just loved this song when it came out.”

  “My daughter,” Sandy said. “Was a huge fan of these guys.”

  Did I sleep through it? Rigs wondered.

  Even Jack. Come on, Jack, not you, too.

  Rigs instructed Kasper to shut it off as they approached the last check point right off the exit to the city. But it was too late, the guard heard them coming.

  “I figured it was the Flaming Saffrons,” the guard said. “You are on our check list and when I heard Chihuahua Love, I knew it was you.”

  “Thanks,” Rigs grumbled.

  “Here’s your directions. They want you to stop at research first. Address is there. But directions are pretty straight forward.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Good luck,” the guard said, then started singing.

  “Please don’t,” Rigs told him then put the RV in drive.

  As they drove through the town, all he kept thinking was how utterly ridiculous the whole thing was.

  The world had dead people walking around, attacking, yet the main stretch of town had three or four chain restaurants.

  Who was supplying them?

  Or were they not supplied and they were using the names only to give the people hope.

  Either way, it was insane.

  “Say …” Kasper joined Rigs up front.

  “You’re not gonna start singing, are you?”

  “No, my throat is kind of dry.”

  “Good”

  “Not nice. Anyhow, what’s up with the research place?”

  “You know as much as I do.”

  “Um …” Kasper dropped his voice. “Bill … Bill isn’t an official Eliminator. He was a survivor going west.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Going west, Rigs,” Kasper gave a single nod and dropped his voice even further. “You know west. The place where all non-immune go.”

  “Shit.’

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, do we know any Bills that are Eliminators?”

  Kasper shook his head.

  “Jack,” Rigs called him. “Can you come up here?”

  He watched through the rearview mirror as Jack made his approach.

  “What’s up?” Jack asked.

  Rigs whispered. “We need a name for Bill.”

  “Why?” Jack matched his whisper.

  “In case they check him. He was a survivor going west. Which means …”

  “He wasn’t immune. Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay.” Jack bite his lip and thought for a moment. “Burrows.”

  “Bill Burrows?”

  Jack nodded. “He was with our team until he quit. If they run Bill’s name, which they won’t, they’ll see he was an Eliminator, say we got him outside of Indiana. That’s where the other Bill left.”

  “Thanks and … don’t say anything to anyone.”

  “You got it.”

  Kasper pointed at the windshield. “Looks like we’re here.”
<
br />   “Well, we’re about to find out why we’re at research,” Rigs said, and he pulled over the RV.

  <><><><>

  The building was old, large faded orange bricks, two pillars out front with peeling paint. They couldn’t figure out what exactly the building originally was because over the name was a hand painted sign that read, Center City Two Research and Operations.

  After hearing again, how great their team name was, they all went inside.

  Barry, Jack, Sandy and Bill waited in the courtyard, while Rigs went one way and Kasper with Rachel went another.

  He didn’t understand why they separated. He supposed he could have opted not to be in the dark, but even having information didn’t matter, Barry was still stewing over the fact he was going to be left behind.

  Kasper knew the dead smelled bad, but he didn’t realize how bad they really smelled until he was in a controlled, closed in room with them.

  While Rigs met with head of operations, Kasper and Rachel went to the labs where they were introduced to Dr. Stevens, head of research and his ‘pals’ Subject one through five.

  All zombies, all bound and attached to a wall.

  “Kind of reminds me of Bub from Day of the dead,” Kasper said to Rachel.

  “Yeah, but … aren’t you worried that the more they decay the more chance of the restraints cutting through the flesh?”

  Dr. Stevens nodded. “We are watching for that. Even if they get loose from the restraints, they are stuck in this room. We’re fine.”

  “So says every scientist in every zombie movie that experimented with them,” Kasper said. “Just saying.”

  Dr. Stevens gave a polite smile. “You’re very quirky. As I was saying … we are watching these subjects at various stages to see what we can learn. And maybe figure out how long it will take for them to die off, so to speak, even though they are already dead.”

  “He’s your oldest,” Kasper pointed to subject three. “He’s about six months,”

  “That’s … that’s very good,” Dr. Stevens said.

  “Yeah, well, we’ve been out there,” said Kasper. “Any memory retention? I mean I think they retain it for the first few hours.”