Zombie Factor

by Timothy Stelly Sr

  For once he understand the meaning of the phrase, “’If’ is the biggest word in the English language.” If only that brainless asshole Archibald Walker hadn’t gone to work drunk…if only Pederson had flown the chemicals by military plane instead of shipping them by rail…if only the chemical had not leaked…If only it hadn’t become airborne…

  Red eyed, feeling ornery and ready to argue, Benton rose, dressed hurriedly and plopped down in the easy chair in his office. He flicked on his monitor, having deliberately kept his contemporaries waiting. Neither looked pleased to have been left in limbo.

  “What’s the news?” Benton said in a raspy voice.

  Crossfield was first to reply. “You’re late.”

  “I was held up. Now can you tell me what progress has been made, if any, in the last ninety minutes?”

  “Antioch and Pittsburg are cleaned up,” Greenbaum said. “Lafayette reservoir is closed for the time being, but we are having water trucked in to local residents. In short, everything looks good on my end.”

  All she’s concerned with is covering her own ass, Benson thought.

  He considered telling her as much, but chose not to. He was put off by her my-shit-doesn’t-stink demeanor. After a pause that lasted several seconds, Benton dismissed her comment with an acerbic “Good for you.”

  It was Crossfield’s turn to speak. “The rest of the chemical has been recovered and sent to the weapons depot in Pueblo, Colorado.”

  “I want some assurances it will be destroyed. Of course, a small percentage of it will have to be kept for further study.”

  “Understood.”

  “Now what about the zombie factor?”

  “The National Guard has the situation well in hand.” Crossfield came across as cocky rather than confident. “We have teams ready to respond if we receive any more reports of attacks by the undead. The Guard troops stationed in Pittsburg are also patrolling the town and handling emergencies, as zombies annihilated the official police force.”

  “How much do the media know and how are they treating this?”

  “They’re reporting zombie sightings, but can’t confirm anything. For the most part, no one’s really paying attention. Just in case, we’re issuing reports that what’s being reported as zombie attacks is nothing more than a pack of rabid dogs and a few inebriates wreaking havoc.”

  “Is that the best you can come up with?” There was a sharp tone to Benton’s words.

  “Considering the wild nature of the reports, yes.”

  “Are there any victims that survived these creature attacks and have spoken with the local media or the networks?”

  “Not to my knowledge, but several persons whose family members were detained at the Concord transit station have spoken with CNN. They claim to have received information that their loved ones were taken away in military vehicles. We had someone from a nearby Air Force station emphatically deny the accusations.”

  “What is the status of the IDs?” Benton asked, referring to the incarcerated people by the acronym for Involuntary Detained.

  “In custody on a seventy-two hour psych hold. Maybe that will be enough time to get them not to believe their lying eyes, as Redd Foxx once put it.”

  “That was Richard Pryor,” Greenbaum corrected.

  “Miss Greenbaum, I believe your job is finished here,” Benton said sharply.

  “How nice of you to acknowledge as much.”

  “I hope we never have the displeasure of working together again.”

  “Don’t worry, we won’t.”

  ***

  3:18 a.m.

  Roy stood face-to-face with a man wearing a leather jacket, and who could easily have been taken for an NFL lineman. The man’s eyes, which were set deep into his skull, were dark, iron orbs. His eyebrows were almost as bushy as the mustache that covered his upper lip. A woman stood behind him and Roy thought she was but a lighter-skinned, more feminine version of the man.

  “Are Duke and Nelson here?” The man asked. His voice resonated like that of singer Isaac Hayes.

  “Hold on.”

  Before Roy could say anything else, Duke and Noodles (real name, Nelson) came to the door. The trepidation in Noodles’ eyes was evident.

  “How come y’all left the house after we told you to stay home?” The man asked.

  “Pops, there was some wild stuff going on out here last night,” Noodles began. “And even though me and Duke had the gun, there were too many…”

  “Get that gun and anything you took from the house and bring your asses on!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He and Duke went back to the kitchen to get the knives and the unlighted candles. Roy stepped back toward the kitchen so that the man at the door would see that there was a gun trained on him. While standing near the kitchen, Roy overheard the exchange between Duke and Noodles,

  “Noodles, what’s your pops got a hair up his ass about?”

  “I don’t know, but we better not take our time doing what he said.”

  “I gotta give your son and nephew credit, sir,” Roy said to the man. “They’re some brave young men.”

  “Bet they were the only ones,” the man cracked.

  His insult and icy demeanor angered Roy, and for a split-second, Roy considered shooting him in the kneecap, but changed his mind. No need in bringing unnecessary heat.

  Instead he stared the man down and asked, “What the hell’s that supposed to mean? You don’t know a muthafuckin thing about anybody in here. If it hadn’t been for me and my partner, you’d have come home and found them dead.”

  Cash kept a close eye on the man, but took a quick glimpse at Roy, who was already eyeing Noodles in case he decided he wanted to intervene in the matter. Noodles carried the .22 pointed toward the floor.

  “Then what’d you need my gun for?” The man laughed. “Y’all some grown ass men over here and what, you can’t protect yourselves?”

  “They came over here,” Roy said, pushing out his chest. His gun was tucked in the small of his back.

  “Yeah, right,” The man said.

  Cash added his view to the mix. “I don’t know what your trip is, partner, but you keep up all that fat mouthing and I’m-a empty this entire cartridge in that fat ass head of yours.” He looked at Noodles. “Better tell your daddy who he’s fucking with.”

  Noodles and Duke hurriedly stepped outside. Cash flashed a hint of a smile to let the man know he and Roy owned the advantage in the event of a shootout. He saw the man’s arm move back ever so slightly, as if he were going to draw a gun from his waistband. His woman had began a slow retreat with Duke and Noodles in tow. Roy whipped out his own piece, and a revived Ned picked up his shotgun off the floor.

  Cash said to Noodles’ dad. “Our business is finished. Get your ass outta here while I’m still in the mood to let you.”

  The man turned without saying anything else, except to Noodles, whom he cuffed upside the head. The sound echoed in the courtyard.

  “When I tell you keep your ass at home, I mean keep your ass at home,” he growled.

  “But dad…”

  “But my ass, and what the hell are you doing sitting up under that ho?”

  Roy closed the door and looked at Cash. “Man, that cat’s a couple of chain links short of a first down.”

  E I G H T E E N

  3:34 a.m.

  I’m going to fix your wagon, Mister Benton.

  The thought of bringing down Benton and Crossfield provided Olivia the sort of rush she hadn’t felt since being named head of Fed OSHA’s Haz-Mat Department. She saw her opportunity not as a whistle-blower moment, or even a first step in a tell-all-book-turned-movie scheme. She’d become fed-up with arrogant military men treating the safety of Americans like as if it was a coin toss.

  She flicked off her monitor and walked across the room and knocked on the door of what appeared to be a closet. A bumpy faced, smiling man of about twenty-one stepped from the cramped space.

  “I assu
me you got it,” Greenbaum said.

  “Every word, every meeting,” the man replied.

  “Good. Make copies for safekeeping and then bring me the original. I want to take this to Wayne Hollister at the State Department and Senator Wilson Burris, Head of the Armed Services Committee.”

  ***

  3:37 a.m.

  Ned leaned back on the couch and complained of pain in his jaw. Valerie brought him a glass of water and gave him a vicodin tablet that she fished from her purse. He took the pill and groaned.

  “Did you hit me, Roy?” He asked.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Roy answered. “Just don’t disrespect my sister’s house again.”

  Ned looked around. “What do we do for back up now?”

  “Get your ass back on that back door. I got the backroom, Cash and Valerie can handle things up front.”

  “Valerie should be on the back door with me, since I’m still groggy from being sucker-punched.”

  “I don’t give a frog’s fat ass about your state of mind,” Roy snapped. “Just get your ass on the back door.”

  Ned looked at Valerie. “When we get out of here, I want to take you to Reno.”

  Valerie remained mute, lowered her eyes and gave no indication that she was interested in such a trip. She took a quick glance at Cash, who fought off the urge to laugh and simply shrugged. Ned saw the unspoken dialogue between them, grabbed his gun and stomped back into the kitchen without another word.

  Grace reentered the room. Her face was puffy from having grabbed an insufficient amount of sleep. “Now would be a good time to make that move.”

  “Yeah, I’d prefer to be in my own place,” Ned called to her from the kitchen. “I got food, water and ammo.”

  “Then I think you, Jenny, Valerie and Roy should go there.” Cash looked at Roy. “You cool with that?”

  “Yeah,” Roy said. “Make sure you and Grace keep that bag with you.”

  “What bag?” Ned asked.

  “The bag with all my worldly possessions,” Roy said quickly. “It ain’t much, but it’s all I’ve got.”

  “I gotcha covered.” Cash frowned at Ned then turned his attention to Grace. “You, me and the kids will stay in the apartment behind Ned’s. in case we have visitors.”

  “Let’s do this now.” Cash said, as he grabbed his gun. “Ned, you carry your gun and the one we got from Goodman’s. Grace, get the kids to carry the candles, matches and you can fill a couple of grocery bags with food.”

  Roy offered to tote the machete and gather all the knives. “We’ll get Tanisha to handle the light and hold onto the kids,” he said.

  A half-sleep Tanisha nodded her approval. Roy’s heart sank as he realized the moment this thing ended, assuming it did, Tanisha would have other issues to deal with. He reminded himself that if anyone could pull her through, it was Grace.

  Cash finished giving orders. “Jenny, you get blankets. Get at least four. Valerie you help Ned barricade his house.”

  “What are you and Grace going to do if you need to behead someone?”

  “I think I can fend off whatever comes until help arrives.” He looked at Ned, who bowed his head. “Well, at least I know one other person’s got my back.”

  “Let’s wrap this up,” Roy said, grabbing the machete and the knives left behind by Duke and Noodles. “The cops will be back, and there’s no telling whether or not the other dead-brain folks will follow.”

  “Why are you so worried about cops?” Ned asked. :”You and Cash act like you got warrants out or something.”

  “Keep your nose outta my business,” Roy said between clenched teeth. “If you don’t know why black people are leery of the police, then you oughta be ashamed of yourself.”

  Ned said nothing else. He picked up his gun and walked to the door. The others followed suit.

  ***

  3:39 a.m.

  Mixon and Cruz headed for the police station. He was certain he could get a warrant, and if no one was around to give it to him, then he would violate whatever laws in order to bring the three bank robbers to justice. Cruz wasn’t convinced that the woman in question was part of the robbery and said as much.

  “We haven’t even seen a white woman with them,” she added.

  “They’ve probably got her stashed somewhere.”

  “These are probably some nickel and dime hoods we’re talking about, not Tony Soprano’s boys. Second, we have no idea what the robbers look like.”

  “They’re black.”

  “And you’re just going to round up every black man you see?”

  “There aren’t that many left. Second, I think they killed the woman.”

  Mixon never looked at his partner. His steely gaze was on the empty streets before him as he sped down the main thoroughfare.

  “I have concerns about you wanting to do things ‘Dirty Harry style.’”

  “These are not normal times, Fiona.”

  Mixon made the turn onto Civic drive and went slack-jawed as he surveyed the smoldering pile of human flesh and the bullet-riddled station exterior. The squad car came to a screech in front of the museum, where he saw national Guardsmen setting up sandbags around the perimeter.

  Mixon stepped out of the car and stared at what was once his place of work. “Christ almighty…our fellow officers…are they gone?” Through moist eyes he gazed at his partner. “We owe it to them to carry on.”

  Before one of the guardsmen could get his attention, Mixon got back in the car. Fiona saw his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel and strapped herself into her seat. She had no idea how to alleviate the fear, woe or frustration—whatever fueled her partner.

  I guess it doesn’t matter now. Zombies or bank robbers, somebody’s got to go.

  Mixon made a U-turn, barreled around the corner and headed back toward the Low.

  “We should have taken a couple of those guardsmen with us.”

  “Spare me your ‘to serve and protect’ spiel, Fiona.”

  “At least then we’ll have backup.”

  “What do they know about police work?”

  “This is no longer police work, but a war, and one-man armies only succeed in the movies.”

  As Mixon spoke spittle flew from his lips. “Either you’re with me or not! I need a partner that’s willing to watch my back, not coddle criminals. This is a citywide security issue and for now the usual rules of law are suspended. If you can’t understand that, then rip that badge off your shirt!”

  “I don’t need you to tell me what my job is!”

  “We’re cops, dammit!” Mixon pounded his hand on the steering wheel for emphasis. “Our job is to keep our city safe, and I need you to back me up on this! If you can’t do that, then get the fuck out! But either way, I’m going to see that justice is done!”

  “This has become an obsession with you, Walter. We need to find out what happened to our fellow officers, in particular Hobbs and McElroy.”

  “That man said he killed them!”

  Mixon’s chest rose and fell rapidly and his unwillingness to obey stop signs and traffic lights left Cruz frightened and bewildered. She contemplated the notion that her partner was so filled with fear that the sudden burst of aggression would be the final stage before he suffered a complete psychological breakdown.

  If so, who’s going to back me up? He’s stronger than me, unpredictable, a half-foot taller, and fifty pounds heavier. Most likely he’s also faster on the draw, so if I have to…

  Cruz closed her eyes and blocked out the climactic scene of the horror movie that played in her head.

  ***

  4:04 a.m.

  Ned’s place was barricaded, all but the front door as he waited for Valerie to return from her apartment, where she and Cash had gone to secure more weapons. All Ned had interest in was getting in between Valerie’s legs again, and his universe would be back to normal. He flat-out ignored Jenny because they shared nothing in common and he saw her as a wannabe.

  That w
hite chick and Roy deserve each other. She’s a hanger-on who hasn’t contributed a damn thing and he’s nothing but a leech who hangs out at his sister’s and who will never amount to shit. I can’t stand bastards like that...

  ***

  Grace felt safe at the new locale, even though there were none of the comforts of home. No beds or sofas for the children to rest upon, nor the adults for that matter. She told the kids to go back to sleep, but Sherry was still worried about “the monsters.”

  Grace held onto a knife and tapped her foot impatiently waiting for Cash’s return.

  ***

  4:10 a.m.

  The pen light attached to Valerie Poseidon’s key chain, shined in her living room and revealed a picture of comfort. There was a sectional sofa in one corner of the room, a big screen TV, a recliner and a shelf filled with porcelain vases decorated with Chinese glyphs.

  She saw that Cash was impressed.

  “I always liked this sort of stuff,” she said.

  Cash realized he should have used Valerie’s place as the second safe house, and admitted as much.

  “No, this house looks lived in,” she said. “So you know the police will be here to tear through it. The house you picked has been vacant for some time and looks like it, so there’s a good chance they’ll skip over it.”

  “You’ve got a point,” Cash said, stepping into the kitchen. “Guess we better grab what we came for.”

  “I don’t keep batteries or anything else around the house,” she said. “But from now on I will.”

  “What, when this is over, you plan on hanging around here?”

  “Honestly Cash, I don’t have any idea of what to do. Right now I just want to make it through the night,”

  “I feel you, but we better get to work.”

  “I’ll get the food and there’s an aluminum baseball bat in the closet.”

  “Lot of good that will do,” Cash said only half-joking.

  His eyes scanned the room, and as he went through the house, he fretted over Grace being alone with the kids. He met Valerie back in the living room, and in her hand she held a meat cleaver.