Dead States | Year Zero | Nebraska

by Marty Brockschmidt

  At the time Miguel was choking on his own blood, Mac pulled the line and the headlights bathed the front gate in light. Jorge understood his place, Meurte was 'El Jefe'. Jorge was also young and felt he needed to prove himself.

  In youthful overconfidence he challenged the driver of the car, “Ay Hombre. Get out of my car and maybe I let you live.”

  Jorge started to become angry when there was no response, “Pendejo, you do not want to make me angry.”

  Mac got into position with his crossbow when Jorge took aim with his rifle. Jorge challenged one more time, “FUCK YOU LAMBIOSO.”

  The bolt from the crossbow came up through the base of Jorge's skull and the tip exited out of his right eye socket. The rifle slowly slipped from Jorge's hands and Jorge fell from the tower with a distinct thud. Before Jorge's body hit the ground, Mac shifted position and quickly reloaded the crossbow. As Mac hoped, the disturbance drew out Santos who came from the room dressed in nothing but his underwear and brandishing a pistol in each hand.

  “Jorge what the ...”, whatever else Santos was going to say was cut off as Mac's crossbow bolt entered Santos' mouth and protruded from the back of his neck.

  Bewildered, Jenny stepped out of the room with the bed sheet tightly wrapped around her. Suddenly she was startled as Mac ran up and then bent down over Santos and ran his knife into the left ear of the man.

  Mac spoke to Jenny in a conspiratory manner, “Join us in the room next door as quick as you can. We need the layout of the house. We may not have much time to rescue the girls.”

  “Huh ... What ... Who. Where did you come from?” Jenny stammered.

  Rita hearing them speak stepped out, “It's okay Jen. Mac is on our side.”

  Rita walked Jenny back into the room to dress, while Rita caught her up on what is happening. Mac went into the room where the rest were gathered to discuss a plan to rescue the girls.

  “Gael can you turn off the electricity?” Mac asked.

  “Si. Yes” Answered Gael.

  Mac handed Carl a body armor vest and hand held spot light from his pack, “I think we should hit this guy now fast and hard. It's your daughters though and you know this guy, so if you think there is another way, I'll listen. Whatever you decide he doesn't get to live. You kick him out and he'll be back.”

  Rita Jarvis walked over to her husband as he held the vest and spot light in his two hands as if he was weighing the choices against his daughters lives. Rita kissed Carl on the cheek, “I love you.”

  Mac and Carl entered through the front door of the house, using the spare keys kept in the cantina. Rob and Gael were backup, taking positions outside of the house on either side of the front door. The plan, simple, kill Meurte.

  Creeping in on stocking feet Mac and Carl moved to the back of the house to the bedroom. The bedroom door was closed and Mac pressed his ear to the door trying to catch some inkling of what they would find on the other side of the door. Hearing nothing Mac tested the knob and found it unlocked.

  Mac did a count down on his fingers in front of Carl's eyes. One, they each took a deep breath in. Two, they slowly exhaled. Three, Mac raised his shotgun, flung the door open and Carl flipped on the spot light filling the room with a blinding light.

  Mac took in the scene inside the bedroom. Meurte stood on the far side of the bed holding Allie, like a shield, with one hand, while the other, holding a pistol, was instinctively shading his eyes. Allie was kneeling on the bed, dressed in a man's shirt unbuttoned down the front. Like Meurte, Allie had her hands raised protecting her eyes from the blinding light. Abby, wearing an oversized T shirt, was in the corner of the room curled into a ball.

  Mac dropped to the floor, pointed the shotgun at Meurte's feet and pulled the trigger twice. The shot ripped into the bedrooms hardwood floor, the underside of the bed and obliterated Meurte's feet from the ankles down. Meurte fell to the floor stifling his screams of pain. Allie bounded off the bed, ran to her sister and covered her protectively.

  Mac was up and moving again and went to the far side of the bed where Meurte lay. Blood was spewing from the ragged stumps of his legs, yet he raised his pistol at Mac. Mac fired again, Meurte's hand exploded into a hundred bloody fragments and became part of the wall behind them.

  Mac walked back to Carl who was still holding the spotlight, “Finish it.”

  Carl pulled out the knife that he had used on Miguel, went over to Meurte and knelt down, one knee pinned to Meurte's chest.

  “So Senor you have come for your daughters.” Meurte grimaced in pain, but still managed to make a smile as he taunted in a cold sadistic voice, “They are no longer your innocent little girls. They are Meurte's women now.”

  Carl slipped the tip of knife under Meurte's chin and slowly yet firmly drove it forward. The knife entered the lower jaw severed the tongue and kept moving upward. The knife stopped when it hit the bone of the upper palate and Carl dragged it forward until the tip found the soft tissue at the back of the mouth. Carl pushed the knife hard and quick and the knife drove into Meurte's brain.

  Carl let go of the knife and heard Abby gently sobbing. Carl stood up, made his way around the bed and walked over to where his daughters were huddled on the floor. Kneeling down Carl wrapped his arms around his daughters and kissed them each on the head. Rita came into the room and completed the family embrace.

  After a few moments Allie realized, with the exception of the still unbuttoned shirt she was naked and began to feel uncomfortable, “Uh Mom, Dad, could you give us a moment.”

  Carl stood up and threw the bed spread over Meurte's dead body, “We'll be right outside.”

  Allie and Abby got dressed in silence. Allie relieved that the nightmare was over, While Abby's feeling were much more complex. Abby was mad at her father for not being able to protect her. More than that she was mad that she had become no more than a bargaining chip. Meurte used his threat against her to control her father. Meurte forced Allie to come to Abby's protection offering her own body to whatever sick perversion he would think of. Abby knew that Meurte would have eventually used her to gain some leverage with his men or the favor of the leader of some other demented group.

  As Abby got dressed she looked at the scars and bruises her sister had suffered for her and resolved right there, “Never again.”

  Chapter 17 - Change

  Mac spent the next few days at 'The Mission', helping them finish defenses, weapons training and teaching them how to handle the dead. At night he would answer their questions on what happen.

  “I can't believe there is nobody left, no help out there, nobody is coming.” Lamented Emily Robertson.

  “I came, your still here and we help each other.” Mac replied solemnly.

  “Well how about letting us help you?” Queried Carl Jarvis.

  “Cause we would still be outnumbered ten to one and Mayhue's men make those gang bangers look like the breakfast club. I appreciate the offer, but if there is a shot that I can find Sergeant Andrews I need to go for it.” Mac answered.

  Jenny Cortez gave Mac a determined look, “Be that as it may Mac, I spoke with Gael and he and I will be going with you tomorrow. There should be weapons, fuel, food at the army base. Like it or not, your stuck with us that far and we'll figure out what we do next after that.”

  Mac chuckled at the stern look on her face, “You remind me of my Ivy, Miss Cortez.”

  Abby Jarvis surprised them all, “I'm coming with you.”

  Rita Jarvis started to protest, but Carl stopped her, “Take care of yourself honey.”

  Just before sunrise the four loaded into the Challenger towing Gael's utility trailer. After his time on the road by himself Mac enjoyed having some company in the car. Gael was familiar with area along their route and Mac asked him to direct them to any out of the way service station.

  Gael wasn't exactly sure why Mac wanted to make the detour, but he knew of a small town, barely a whistle stop, that would fill the request. Gael had Mac turn off and after a few
miles of bouncing down dusty roads they came upon the service station on the outskirts of town. Mac stopped the car, handed Abby a spotting scope and pulled out his own binoculars.

  “Senor, we have plenty of fuel and supplies, why do we stop?” Gael asked.

  “That base could be crawling or taken over by unfriendlies. We need a warm up.” Answered Mac.

  “Abby were looking for any signs that people may be around, that scope will let you pick out small details, let me know if you have trouble with it.” Mac offered unsurprised by the girls lack of response. It was enough that she began to intensely glass the area.

  The station had the same pumps installed forty years ago and advertised last gas for fifty miles. To appeal to the meager tourist traffic the station had a western look, wagon wheels marking the drive, the front of the building made to look like an old time western store, a raised wood plank walkway in front of the building and even a cigar store Indian parked next to the door.

  After a few minutes of scanning the area the only activity Mac caught was a lone Dee meandering around by the pumps. Mac turned to Abby, “See anything we should be worried about?”

  “Just dust and tumbleweeds.” Abby answered flatly.

  Mac laid out a quick plan, “Gael I'll pull up past that dead one. You follow me out the driver door, that keeps the car between us and the building, just in case. Jenny you climb up behind the wheel. If things go south for any reason, Gael and I will hop in the trailer and you get us out quick. Everybody clear?”

  “Si comprende ... understood” Gael replied for the group.

  As Mac pulled past, the Dee turned to advance. Mac stopped and climbed out carrying a four foot pike sharpened at one end. Gael followed drawing his machete as his feet hit the pavement. The heat and sun had desiccated the Dee so that its skin looked liked dried leather and was drawn back tight to the skull. Mac tripped up the Dee with his pike and Gael finished it with a quick chop of the machete.

  After a couple of minutes Mac had Jenny shut off the car and she and Abby joined the men in front of the service station. Mac had Abby join him and asked Gael and Jenny, move forward at a slight distance from them. Before moving into the service station Mac wanted to confirm the outside was clear. Remembering how Myles had died Mac shone his flashlight under the front walkway and then backed up fast.

  Mac backed up just far enough to let the Dee, get its upper torso out from under the porch and then speared its skull with his pike. Within seconds another Dee was crawling out over top of the first and without warning Abby jumped in and cleaved its skull with her machete.

  Mac looked at the young girl, “You good?”

  “Yeah” Abby answered unfazed.

  Mac smiled and turned his head slightly, but still kept an eye under the porch, “Gael, Jenny, we got this, you two watch our backs.”

  Before Mac could turn his attention to the porch Abby had already cleaved another Dee, that had found a new hole to squeeze out of. The two of them paced back and forth along the outside edge of the porch stabbing and chopping at the emerging Dee's.

  Eventually the spaces under the porch became plugged by bodies, but more dead could still be heard scurrying, like rats, under the porch. They were alerted to the creatures finding another way out when the wooden Indian statue fell over with a thud and the floor boards splintered up.

  Two Dee's squeezed up through the opening and Mac and Abby bound to the porch as one and dispatched the pair. From behind Abby the floor boards splintered up again and a desiccated hand reached out and caught her ankle.

  Abby instinctively pulled her foot back and called out firmly, yet calmly, “Mac.”

  Abby severed the hand at the wrist while Mac piked the Dee through the opening in the floor. Then everything went quiet, Mac and Abby caught their breath waiting for another assault. The bodies of seventeen Dee's jutted from the porch, like grisly Halloween decorations.

  Jenny stepped closer to Mac, “Is it over?”

  “It is never over, you can't think like that, but yeah I think this is the end of this bunch.” Mac cautioned as he motioned to Abby to join him off the porch. Abby pried the severed hand from her ankle with the tip of her machete and joined the group.

  “Mac were those things waiting under there for somebody to come along?” Jenny asked.

  “Like setting a trap? No they don't do that. They have basic instincts. They are attracted to sound, smell and movement. They also seem to have some limited survival instinct. I saw a massive herd moving away from the cold in Colorado and you see how dried up the sun here makes them. This bunch was trying to get out of the heat, nothing more.” Mac informed.

  “What is next Meester Mac? We go inside now?” Gael asked.

  “We sweep the perimeter first. Careful of other places they could nest. Then we'll see what kind of scavengers you are.” Mac replied smiling.

  Mac first had them assure that there were no more walkers on the premises and the building was clear. Then he sent Jenny and Abby to clean out the sales floor while he and Gael went to recover any fuel still in the tanks. The store still held some cases of water, soda, and energy drinks. Mice had gotten in though and had a field day with anything edible. Mac and Gael had better luck, nearly filling two 55 gallon drums taken from the back of the service bay, along with a couple of cases of oil and odds and ends of car parts.

  Back on the road again the mood in the car had taken on a decidedly giddy turn. Even Abby who had been so serious and resolved the past few days smiled when Mac praised her. In a little over an hour they were pulling up to the entrance to the base. The sight that greeted them immediately crushed the euphoria they were feeling.

  Parked at the entrance was the two jeeps Sergeant Andrews and his men had left Nebraska in. The one still had the fifty caliber machine gun mounted in the back. That was not the worst of it, tethered to one jeep were two, now dead soldiers and bound to the other jeep were two more dead soldiers, that had been fed upon by their dead comrades.

  Mac could only imagine the trauma Sergeant Andrews went through as his two dead soldiers were released foot by foot and then inch by inch on to his two men bound to the other jeep. Knowing that Andrews kept his tongue as to their location in Nebraska only made Mac admire the man more.

  Life in Timshel had become dismally routine since Mac had escaped. The General only allowed them a single meal at midday, the rest of the day was devoted to work. While some of the tasks had purpose, the majority were just make work.

  If hunger and mind numbing work wasn't enough the General's soldiers, used to a more active life, had become bored in the confines of the town. They had taken to picking out individual men and taunting them until they provoked a fight. Already two men had to be rushed to the clinic from the severity of the beatings they had received.

  Percy having survived both the holocaust and a Vietnamese POW camp did what he could to encourage people not to fall for these tactics. However, his major focus was in building a resistance. Which for now consisted of himself, Crystal, Bill, Doc and Amy.

  Doc was able to use the privacy of the exam room to exchange information. The others were using their time to observe the soldiers. Establishing patterns of watch rotations, personal habits, and especially any sign that the soldiers were letting their guard down.

  Today at the midday meal Crystal was seated with Percy and Mae and young Krista sat at Crystal's side. The disease that had taken Mae's memories and addled her thoughts was starting to ravage her body now. Even with most folks doing their best to cover for Mae on the work details, the demands were a strain on her and what little light still shone in her eyes was slowly beginning to fade.

  The one thing that still perked Mae up was having Crystal nearby. In Mae's addled mind Crystal was her long deceased daughter Dorothy, or as Mae called her Dot.

  “Dot you are getting to thin. You need to eat more, here take some of mine.” Mae insisted offering her plate to Crystal.

  “I'm fine Mama. You go ahead and finish it
up.” Crystal replied giving the old woman's hand a squeeze.

  Crystal went back to holding ordinary conversations, but in reality her attention was focused on Percy. Percy had begun teaching her a code the POW's had developed when he was held in Vietnam. The language was nonverbal, consisting primarily of hand motions. Krista who had been watching this over the past several days surprised them both by making the 'Go' sign.

  Krista got up and hugged Crystal around the neck and whispered, “Just say when Cap.”

  Krista began taking a plate from table to table, “Time for collection folks.”

  As had become their routine each of the adults, with the exception of Sara Parsons, saved a portion of their meal. At the end of the meal those portions were collected and shared among the children. Two more of the children grabbed trays of hardtack. Tobin made the hardtack so that folks could slip a couple of biscuits in a pocket and have something to eat at night.