by Mark Clodi
"Yeah? Where are we going from here?"
"Oh, nowhere. I am pretty happy to just lay about and enjoy the weather for a change."
"All that rush to get here for nothing?"
"What rush?" Katie asked, not wanting to admit something had been driving her this way since she left Chicago.
Randy sighed, and shook his head. "Stubborn as a mule, like always."
"I call it assertiveness."
"I call it mulish." He reached out with both hands and pushed her under, then used his leverage on the sand bar to push away from her.
Laughing Katie surfaced and yelled out for him, "Just wait, I'll get you, paybacks a bitch!"
But he was gone. This cast a pall on her mood and Katie swam in far enough so she could touch bottom. Bobbing as the waves came in she scanned the beach for unwanted guests, seeing no one she turned to watch the approaching storm. The air had an electric current to it, like something was about to happen.
"Me and my overactive imagination." She laughed. Randy leaving wasn't a big deal, she decided, she could cope. Her next move would be to find a nice house to stay in, to ride out the storm and maybe even live in, if the place were as deserted as it looked.
"But for now, I am going to enjoy this afternoon. Fuck it. No take backs." Katie kicked over onto her back and swam parallel to the shore, stretching out her muscles and soaking in the sun.
Chapter 27 -- Max
The truck finally gave out as they coasted into the highway patrol parking lot. Stewart put it into neutral and they coasted into a parking space, gently bumping into the curb where the sidewalk began.
"That was perfect." Bill said.
"Only if there is a car here we can use." Stewart answered, "We might just have to walk."
"What do you mean?" asked Bill, pointing to the patrol cars in the lot around them.
Stewart laughed, "Oh Bill! Police cars are driven into the ground, these could all be piles of shit, parked out here to make people think the place is full. I know, I've driven enough P-O-Ses over the years.
"P-O-Ses? Oh yeah, piles of shit, got it. But these can't all be bad! They just can't!"
"I hope not."
"How's Javier?" Bill called back to Max and Ruben. Both men were sitting in the truck bed with the younger man.
"He's still out. He isn't bleeding anymore either." said Max.
"Well, he's got that going for him then." Stewart muttered.
Bill and Stewart got out of the car with their weapons and both leaned up against the truck bed to look at Javier and talk to the others.
"How do we do this?" Bill asked with a nod towards the building.
"Well they probably have a board or something with the patrol car keys hanging from it, or maybe a slot system, like you might put mail in. The keys should match up the cars out here. See how each vehicle is numbered? We just find the keys, run them out here and start the car."
"Let's look for the better looking cars first." said Ruben, "No sense pulling all the keys if can find something good in the first place."
"That sounds fair. Anyone have a pencil or paper to write down a few car numbers?" Bill asked.
"I think I saw some in the glove box." Max said.
Ruben pulled out a small notepad and a thick pencil like the kind used for marking wood on a construction site. "How about you sit here Max and let us know if any zombies get close? The three of us will find us some wheels."
Max nodded, "Yeah, sure, okay. The place is empty though...."
"But?" prompted Stewart.
"Well, I couldn't see Aubrey. I'm concerned; maybe there are others who know her trick?"
"We'll be careful. You look with your eyes as well as your mind and we should be fine."
"Unless they come out of the woods behind the station." Max had a clear view of the road in both directions, but the forest grew right to the edge of the building in the back.
"Yeah, unless they come from that direction. You just watch your part."
Ruben had already gathered up the numbers of three of the newer model state patrol vehicles by the time Bill retrieved the pen and paper from the glove box.
"Check this out." Bill said, showing Max the pen. It looked about half the length of a normal pen. "I think it got cut in half by a bullet passing through the glove box."
Stewart snorted, "Men!"
"Kinda cool." said Max, examining it, "Does it still write?"
"Yeah." Bill said, demonstrating on a piece of scrap paper, "Stewart you've got to enjoy the little things."
"I have, I slept with Max." Stewart quipped.
"Very funny, seriously check it out." Max said.
"It's a broken pen."
"No, not just that. It's a pen that was shot. By a bullet. That makes it cool. Especially cause it still writes." Bill said.
Bill headed to the opposite end of the parking lot from Ruben and inspected the decrepit vehicles parked there. "I think these are the really shitty ones they were parting out." He called back to them.
"Then fuck it, come back here with your cool pen and we'll go find the keys for the cars Ruben found." Stewart called back.
"I'll feel back leaving the truck here, I mean, it got us through a lot. Look how shot up it is and it still works, except for the radiator thing." said Max.
Stewart shook her head, "I suppose. We are going to loot the place for any food and hopefully we'll find a fuel tank for topping off the cars over on that side of the building. That looks like the service area." She was pointing towards the side Ruben had gone.
"Yeah, there's a tank." Ruben said, catching the end of their conversation. "I got five numbers, one or two of them ought to be good."
"Let's go find the keys then."
Bill caught up with them as they approached the entrance to the building. The doors were glass, with metal frames, one of them was shattered into small green squares on the ground. Inside the building was dark and ominous looking, all three of them pulled out flashlights before entering. Ruben tucked the notepad into his front pocket and pulled up his shotgun.
Without a word Stewart went in first. Looking about she saw the place was a mess. There were dark stains covering much of the front lobby and a rotting corpse in state patrol khaki colored clothing lay in front of the main desk.
"Whew-whee. I'll never get used to the smell." Stewart said, approaching the bloated corpse.
"What are you doing?" Bill asked, choking on the foul air.
"He probably has the keys to one of the cars that works in his pocket. This is an easy one." Stewart rolled the body over and jumped back as the maggot ridden corpse disintegrated as it rolled.
The quiet sounds of thousands of maggots wriggling and eating was made more pronounced by Stewart disturbing the corpse they were eating.
"Fuck, this is disgusting!" Stewart pulled out her combat knife and used the tip to poke at the man's belt, where there was a key chain attached. Stewart prodded at it until it unclipped and dropped to the floor by the sprawling filth that had been his stomach. With a sliding motion she shoved the keys through the muck until they were on a clean part of the floor. Stewart looked at the keys, then at the men.
"You know, I think I need a rag or something."
"A bucket of bleach?" suggested Ruben, holding his nose with the same hand that was holding his gun.
"Just leave them Stewart, we'll find something to clean them up inside and bring it back. And for fuck's sake don't roll any more bodies over! I don't think I could stand the smell again." said Bill.
Stewart just nodded and moved the keys over closer to the front door.
"Where now?" asked Ruben.
Stewart shrugged, "I would guess that way. At least that is the way to the garage and the fuel tank, so I would think they would keep the keys closer to that end for doing maintenance."
They passed three more bodies along the way, but Stewart didn't approach them as she had the first. All were very badly decomposed corpses. Most looked like they had b
een shot in the head, but with the amount of decomposition it was difficult to tell. The smell, if anything, became worse as they made their way further into the building.
"God. It is bad. I think I am going to puke." Bill said.
"You'll be okay. Just don't think about it." replied Ruben.
"If you do hurl, don't do it in the middle of the hallway. I don't want to step in it if we have to run away." advised Stewart.
"Thanks, Stewart. Your usual compassion is appreciated."
"It's here." Stewart said, pointing her light into a darkened recess at one wall that was covered with hooks that had numbers above them.
"Look, a high tech vehicle key solution." She pointed to the wall.
"It works, why mess with something effective?" Ruben asked.
"You'd think they would have an Apple app or something." Stewart said.
"A what?" Ruben asked.
"An Apple...never mind old man. Something on the computer."
"I know what an iPhone is. But why would anyone make a program for state patrol cars?" asked Ruben, genuinely puzzled.
"Really Ruben, I was kind of joking."
"Oh, I don't think I get your sense of humor."
"It's the age difference."
"Cut it out you two, let's just find the keys and get out of here." Bill said.
Stewart turned the handle of the door and swung it open to step into what was really just a closet sized space. She took the paper Ruben handed her and looked for the numbers on the board and came up with four sets of keys. She kept looking about after that, even rifling through the desk set at the back of the closet.
"I can't find any keys marked for the gas pumps."
"They are probably in the shop. That's where I would keep them, closer to the pumps." Ruben said.
"Probably, do we want to go check or see if we can get any of these cars started first?" asked Bill.
"Yeah, let's check the cars first, we can fuck around with the pumps afterward, if the cars are out of fuel." said Stewart.
The three of them wandered around the garage looking for anything useful, but found nothing they wanted to carry out with them.
"We should check the armory, see if they got anything left." said Stewart.
"If we can find it." Bill said, "Lead the way."
Stewart took the lead and they walked back across the lobby of the state patrol station into what looked more like an office area. Looking down the hallways at the 'T' intersection beyond, Stewart shrugged and chose to go left. Luck was with her and they came to an open doorway with concrete steps leading down.
"Dark." Stewart said, pointing her light down the stairs.
"Max said the place was empty. So I guess this feeling of unease is just nerves?" Bill said, flicking his light over the walls and floor ahead of them.
"Dark and man don't mix well together." Ruben added, as he turned on his own small light back on.
The three headed down the stairs and found a sign with directions on it, one arrow pointed towards a 'Gym and Locker Room', the other arrow said, 'Shooting Range'. Stewart hardly paused before heading towards the shooting range. There were two doors at the end of the corridor; both had small rectangular squares that ran parallel to the door frame just above the latch. Stewart shined her light into the area directly ahead of her and took a quick look.
"That's the range, it's built out underground, it must extend beyond the walls of the building. Pretty nice really, for a headquarters built out in the middle of nowhere. So that must mean this other door is the armory."
Stewart went to try the latch, expecting it to be locked, but the handle gave easily, and she gently pushed it open. Inside was what looked like a workshop, with heavy benches, vises and tools for servicing firearms neatly stacked on shelves around the perimeter of the room. Directly across from the door they had come in was another open door, this one was made out of a fine mesh of metal, backed by iron bars.
"Looks like someone beat us to it. Maybe they left us some ammo?" said Stewart as she moved forward cautiously.
"Why would the police have assault rifle ammunition?" asked Bill.
"After all the civilian shootings, are you kidding me? Every department has a few assault rifles around. Hell, even a few of our cars in Denver had military grade assault rifles. The only difference is the rifles civilians have, even law enforcement, fire .223 ammo. The rifles Draper gave us are the real deal, they are chambered for 5.56mm ammunition. But for those of you who were asleep during Draper's mission briefings, he told us we can safely fire .223 ammo out of them. So maybe, they'll have bullets we can use." Stewart stepped into the open doorway of the armory and said, "It looks pretty cleaned out...wait, hey, pay dirt! C'mon Bill, let's put your muscles to use, I think I found us a few reloads!"
Bill joined Stewart in the armory and like her, he saw the empty gun racks hanging on the walls. There were, however, a few boxes of ammunition on the shelves to the right side of the door. Stewart was holding open a military ammo box, one of three that was still on the floor beneath the lowest shelf. The box had a piece of duct tape over the side of the olive drab color, the tape had ".223 - 840" written on it in black marker.
"It's our caliber! Grab an end would you?" Stewart asked.
Bill bent down and brushed her hands away from the other side, he picked the box up and stood easily. "I can get it. You and Ruben just light the place up so I don't trip over anything. Are we going to take it all?"
"We burned through a lot back at the hotel. I think we should take two boxes of it and leave the third tucked under here, so we can get to it if we need to later." Stewart said.
"Fine by me. Are you sure we can fire this stuff?"
"There will be some loss of accuracy, you won't notice, but I might miss a few shots once in a while." Stewart said with a faint smile on her face.
"Thanks. I'll just fire twice to make sure I hit the target."
"You don't already?"
"There is no winning with you, is there?" asked Bill.
"Talking is a competitive sport."
"It shouldn't always be."
"Oh, I am not that bad." said Stewart, "Can you help me with this other one, or do you want me to double you up so I can keep a better lookout?"
"Double me up, they aren't that heavy."
"I know, I just like having my hands free. Even if the building is empty."
"You ladies ready to go yet?" called Ruben from the workroom.
"Yeah, let's roll." Stewart said, leading the way.
The three made their way back outside. Max was sitting cross legged in the back of the truck with his eyes closed. Without looking he said, "Did you find what we need?"
"What are you doing? Taking up meditation?" Bill asked.
Max blushed, "No, but Aubrey said I might try expanding my 'talent' by exercising it a little more, trying to build it up, instead of just using it as it is."
Stewart stared at him for a moment. Max was facing them, but his eyes were still closed. "Is it working?"
Slowly Max turned his face towards her, his eyes remained closed, "Yeah, I think she might have something there."
"Open your damned eyes! It is too freaky talking to you like that." Stewart said.
Max cracked open one eye, "Sure thing. Zombies coming, but slowly, through the woods, they're about a mile away."
"Shit. I thought your girl said the way would be clear." said Stewart.
"I think by 'way', she meant the highway. We're off of that path by more than a little."
Stewart handed Ruben and Bill each a set of keys, and kept two for herself, "Let's get these checked." After a moment she turned back to Max, "How is our boy there?"
Max reached out and put his hand on Javier. He pressed down on him again, harder, "What the fuck?"
"What?"
"He's, he's hard!"
"Gross Max, check at his neck instead, feel for a pulse." Stewart quipped.
Max blushed again for the second time in as many minu
tes, getting a laugh out of the others. "Not there! I felt his stomach, it's like a rock." Max moved his hand up to the young man's neck, "His neck is stiff too. No, not stiff; hard as a fucking rock."
"What?" Bill said, climbing into the back of the truck on the other side of Javier. Both men put their hands on Javier and pressed his body, which was as hard as a rock.
"What the hell? Could it be internal bleeding, Stewart?" asked Bill.
"How should I know? Bleeding inside his neck? No, I don't think so. Plus he isn't swollen at all, just...I dunno, dense? Max can you zombie-vision him and see if he is still alive?"
Concentrating for a moment, Max nodded, "He is fine, he looks...good Lord! His body is changing as I look at it. His leg, it's, like white, like everything he has, all his energy, it's there working."
"Good. Leave him. Bill, let's check these cars, whatever happened to us, happened to Javier too, he'll be fine. Probably." Stewart said.
Bill gave Ruben a sideways glance, "What about you, Ruben, can you tell us anything about Javier."
Ruben returned his gaze and said levelly, "I think he'll be fine, if we can get him back to Iowa. Are we going to wait here until those zombies get here or what?"
The three of them soon found all four state trooper vehicles, they all looked good and started without any difficulty at all. Each of them drove one of the cars over to the broken down pickup truck and parked it.
"I took the better of the two, but they both looked good. You guys didn't do too bad either. How are they on fuel?" asked Stewart.
"About a quarter tank." Ruben said.
"Same here. I thought they would fuel them up at the end of the shift?" Bill asked.
Stewart shrugged her shoulders and said, "Don't look at me I was a city cop, not a state trooper. My tank is hovering at about half."
"Okay then, let's go see about fueling them up. Are we taking all three?" Bill asked.
"I think so. I can ride alone, we'll put Max and Ruben in one and you and Javier in the other."
"You get a car to yourself?" Bill shrugged his shoulder, "Okay, I guess."
"I'll drive point, so if the shit hits the fan we won't risk the entire group."
They manhandled Javier into Bill's car, putting him at an awkward angle in the back seat. The man's body didn't bend at all, he was as stiff as a sailor in a whorehouse after six months at sea and that made positioning him difficult.
