“You want us to follow you? You prove you have no infection and will not lead us into a trap. They can communicate and they are organized. How do we know you are not in contact with them? Prove it and I will follow you.”
“No. I’m not doing anything. You don’t have to come with me. You can all go back and live safely in the safe house until hell freezes over. I’m going forward.”
“Jones,” said Brittany. “Did we or did we not make a pledge to strip after hand-to-hand combat?”
Jones turned his brown eyes on me. “We did.”
I huffed. “Fine, damn it!”
Don’t ask me why, but I checked to verify the zombies couldn’t see me. Then I began, this will teach me not to question others. I went fast and twirled once. They shook their heads in agreement and accepted my ambitious plan.
Our stockpile of ammo ran low. Charley drove and this time, Jones joined us, he stood in the middle and held pillows at an odd angle to both our barrels. Brittany and I took aim and fired silently into the pack of zombies. Two zombies fell, their brains gushing out onto the pavement. The rest stayed in place or walked around them, never advancing. Perfect. Jones readjusted the pillows and we took down two more. To our surprise, it worked flawlessly and then toward the end, our shots could be heard, the pillows were no more.
“Hang on to something,” said Charley.
Charley gunned the truck at the zombies. Jones joined us and we fired away. The zombies were breaking up, howling and coming our way. We kept firing and Charley kept driving. At the last instant, he jerked hard right and we were up on top of the zombies. Our new roadway was lumpy and we clung to the sides as the truck tilted left then right. The plan went better than I expected it would. We had cleared a path and the approaching zombies were tripping and falling over the ones we shot.
From time to time, we kicked a stray zombie that managed to get too close. Those that got a hand on the truck got it slammed for their trouble. Though we kept firing, each of us had a baton, except Brittany with her ever-loving Pipe of Death. Those closes, we whacked and those with beady eyes got a bullet between them—for good luck.
Near the end, our path was clear ahead. We had cleared out the immediate zombie threat and breathed a welcome sigh of relief. Then it happened, the truck spun and spun, smoke pluming from the rear left tire. Jones went to investigate.
Jones yelled back, “we’re stuck between two swished zombies. You’re making peanut butter man.”
“Hold up, Charley. Cover me, Britt.” I said.
“I got you.”
I went to have a look with Jones. He had gotten out of the truck and was trying to move a zombie from the tire. I helped. Occasionally I heard a shot, Brittany was on her job and I felt better. Together, we tried to move the mess made by the wheel with no success. Of all the things to happen, who would have thought this would do us in? I never counted on swished zombies, it was like road sludge or being in a mud hole. Zombie goo covered our hands as we worked with the mess.
“Send Charley back here and drive the truck.” Jones ordered.
“Okay.”
I ran to the front to relay the message, wiping the disgusting stuff off my hands as I went. I waited until they said ready and then I stepped on the pedal. The truck’s wheel squealed and smoke shot in the air. Brittany’s rifle shot into the crowd and we were rocking. An instant later, we were moving. The truck sped over the remaining zombie roadway and then we were back on normal road surface. I drove a little farther, then screeched to a halt.
My outside mirror told the tale. My team battled zombies. They were surrounded and soon would be invisible to me. My stomach dropped, not from the sight, from my thoughts. My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, it would be so easy to keep going. I won, I made it through and Simon was ahead, waiting for me.
I heard them, screaming zombies closing in. I hesitated. I didn’t want to go back. They needed me and I couldn’t abandon them. I put the truck in reverse and backed up, full speed. I don’t know how many I ran over, it was quite a few. I blew the horn and my team leaped in the back.
I put the truck in drive and floored it. I’ll be damn if I get stuck now. We tossed and turned as I went over the bodies, this time it wasn’t so bad, I had smashed them the first go round. As soon as we were back on solid ground, the ride smoothed out and we barreled down the road as fast as the little old truck would take us.
A few stray zombies wondered across the road, I hit as many as I could without putting us in danger. I erratically drove and can’t say for certain where I was or what state I was in. Had we crossed the border from Missouri to Arkansas? I couldn’t tell. I was jumbled up and zoned out, not reading signs or paying attention to landmarks. My tunnel vision allowed me to see the center of the road in front of me and any stray zombie that wondered in my field of vision.
I snapped out of it somewhere around Cherokee Village, to its west, that was the direction Jones said the camp was in. I went down the road and saw a huge building with a big gate. Overhead, our flag blew in a light breeze.
Chapter 21
We made it to the gate. I had never been so happy to see the military in my life. Pulling up to the big gate and reading the sign welcoming us to Camp Brandt were awesome. My hands were shaking so bad I was losing my grip on the steering wheel. I brought the truck to a stop at the outer gate and a guard waved me forward. The gate opened, they had electricity, outstanding.
“How many?” the guard asked me.
I was put off by the guards in front of him, the ones aiming the M16's at us. “Four.”
“Go inside and stay to the right, a guard will guide you to quarantine.”
“Thank you.”
He motioned me forward and past him. I approached the guards with trepidation; none of them returned my friendly wave or smile. Instead, they trained their weapons on me and watched as I slowly went forward and turned to the right. Fear gripped me. I could not make mistakes with this lot. I tightened my grip on the wheel and followed the path laid out for me. I made it to the area and parked.
I stepped out of the truck to check on my team. They were awfully quiet and I admit I had forgotten about them. I longed to see my brother and kept his image in my head as I drove. Everything else disappeared as I remembered every joke, every story, every laugh I was a party to with him. It would be good being with him.
Charley, Brittany, and Jones had their hands up and were standing in the center of the truck bed. Four guards pointed rifles at them.
“Zee!”
Brittany’s expression worried me. She was afraid they would kill them and so was I. Two guards came behind me. I felt a barrel in the center of my back. It nudged me and I immediately put my hands in the air.
The soldier with the gun in my back shoved it forward. “Move, that way.”
“Zee, I have to tell you—” Brittany began.
“Hey! Get down and march, slowly, no talking. Move!”
“It’s okay, Britt—”
The soldier behind me shoved the barrel deeper into my back, “shut up and march.”
Since they wouldn’t allow me to talk, I tried to calm Brittany with a smile. There was nothing for her to worry about, we made it and we were alive. Still, fright covered her face and that was unusual for her. I glimpsed the others and they too worried. Maybe it was the truck, it was covered in green blood and guts, possibly body parts, maybe that is why they treated us so badly.
It will be all right, Zee. You made it and Simon is waiting. I walked at gunpoint to a cell between the inner and outer gates. It is reasonable for them to quarantine us. I had no problem with it.
The thought then occurred to me that my friends had no one waiting on them as I did. Though it was the army, it is a new world for them and some fear is in order. I hoped they would get over it soon. Good times were ahead.
My guard led me to a door and made me open it. I did and went inside. I found it was not the one-room cell I believed. It was a small room with
a metal table and two doors at the far end. An overhead light shined on the table. Now, I was worrying. Images of mad scientists ran through my head.
I stood by the door, not wanting to venture forward to find what awaited me. After a while, a speaker buzzed from the ceiling and I shook. In a split second, Camp Vix appeared in my head and I found myself in the basement cell struggling to keep the wall from moving and throwing me into the clutches of a female zombie.
Words came from the speaker, I didn’t understand any of them. Fear held me. Maybe Brittany was right to be afraid. Maybe she knew they would do this to us.
“Move forward to the head of the table,” the calmer I became the clearer the voice became.
“Hello?”
“Move forward to the head of the table,” said the voice, “please.”
The added incentive made me move. I moved as slow as possible, a zombie could jump out at me at any moment. I reached to my back as casually as I could, my knife felt hard as I ran my hand against its handle. I walked forward a bit faster with more confidence. If a zombie or a maniac jumped out at me, it would be their last jump.
“A doctor will be in to examine you shortly,” said a softer female voice. I suppose its purpose is to put me at ease, it didn’t. I looked for hidden cameras in the ceiling. “Underneath the table are drawers. The top drawer contains bath towels. You will undress and take a shower. The door ahead of you on your left is a shower. When you have finished, the middle drawer contains shirts and the bottom, pants. A doctor will then see you. Please move forward and get a towel.”
“Who is talking?”
“Please move forward and get a towel.”
Sorry, I’m going to be difficult. “I’m not doing anything until you answer me. Who is talking?”
Dead silence.
I worried, but I didn’t budge.
The door to the right opened. Two people in what looked like decontamination getups came into the room. They moved slowly in big bulky suits that carried their own oxygen supply in a small tank on their back.
From between them, two soldiers in camouflaged fatigues appeared. The first, an older soldier with jet-black hair, held a metal nozzle. I traced its end to a long metal tube that turned into a thick white hose, a fire hose. The other held a rifle he pointed directly at me, unflinching.
“You can voluntarily take your shower or these gentlemen will assist you,” said the first man in the contamination suit.
I eyed them all. What I was doing made no sense. Simon was on the other side of the door and I was arguing about taking a shower, something I hadn’t done in who knows when. Brittany’s face came to me and the scared look she had on her face as she left. Something told me to be wary of these people and it wouldn’t let me relax. Immediately, my knife made an appearance. Eyes went wide.
“Private Jolly, hit her.”
The soldier with the hose aimed it at me. The last thing I saw was his evil smile and crooked teeth as water shot at me with a force that knocked me back against a wall and to the floor. I lost consciousness.
I woke on a metal table. I didn’t have to see it. I felt the distinctive cold metal surface. I raised my head to look at my body, fear pumped through my veins, someone had dressed me. I was in a white long sleeve shirt, green pants, and I wore no shoes. If I could move, I would kick myself all over the room for being stupid. Who knows what they did to me while I was out. Did they touch me? I could barely move and managed to tilt my head in a way where I could see down my shirt. I saw a bra, thank god for that. I looked further for marks and didn’t find any.
I shut my eyes tight and tried to go over my body for signs of something, anything. I pictured myself having an out-of-body experience where I floated over my body to examine myself for unusual marks. Try as I may, I felt nothing unusual. I wasn’t sore, so that ruled out them performing an unwilling surgery and implanting me with god knows what. Why did I resist?
Now, I’m unarmed. Maybe I could have kept my knife if I had cooperated.
I struggled to free myself and couldn’t. Strapped to the table with large bands around my waste and legs, I could barely move. Two smaller bands held my arms in two places.
“Hey! Hello!”
I twisted more and then prepared to shout more, I would scream my head off until I went hoarse if necessary.
The door opened. A man in white doctors’ clothing came in carrying a chart on a clipboard. He pulled up a chair and then looked over my body before sitting in his chair.
“My name is Doctor Flitall, I need to ask you a few questions and then we can place you.”
“Place me?”
“One of the others said you were a soldier, is that correct?”
“Untie me.”
After a brief stare down, he undid my arms so I could sit. “I’ll do the rest when we finish.”
“Why?”
“You were armed with a knife and reached for it during your decontamination. We have to protect a whole society, so if you are crazy, we have to restrain you.”
“I’m sane.”
“Name?”
“Zora Baker. I have a brother, Simon. He should be here, have you seen him?”
He ignored my inquiry and wrote on his clipboard. “Rank?”
“Private, first class, member of the 59th strike team out of Camp Vix, the Screaming Eagles. Simon Baker, have you seen him?”
Again he ignored me. “Any bites or scratches?”
I rolled my eyes. “You should already have the answer to that one.”
He glanced up at my body before writing a new paragraph. I tried to look to see what he wrote, my restraints made it impossible. “Are you going to untie me?”
“No.”
“What?”
The man looked me over and then left. I struggled to free myself and then the man I didn’t want to see came into the room, Dr. Blake.
“Miss Baker,” he said, “let me tell you a key rule at this facility. If you harm any human, execution is automatic for the crime. There is no prison and no defense lawyer. We are all that remains of our society and like our gardens, we root out the weeds. If you cause trouble, we will kill you or throw you out, those are the facts of our new world. Do you understand what I have said to you?”
This man seemed as if he were reading me my rights, as if arrested; only these were new rights for a new world. He glared at me waiting for my response. I thought how easy it would be to remove his glasses and use a piece of it as a weapon to stab him with. I saw it in a movie once. I can’t think of the name of the movie, but it thrilled me.
“Do you understand, Miss Baker?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You will work the gardens during the day and guard duty on the south wall at night. Your supervisor’s name is Glessman, Sandra Glessman.”
He wrote on his clipboard and left the room. Seconds later, a soldier came in and released me. His crooked smile told me I had met him before: the same evil leer, the same yellowed teeth, the man with the fire hose.
As he loosened my straps, my first inclination was to kick him. I thought of the rules and resisted. He had to hurry and leave me, my willpower was fading fast. I gripped the sides of the table tighter than I should have and swung around to sit up. A surprise visitor saved the day.
“Zee!”
Simon ran toward me. I hopped off the table, gave a shove to the man, and ran for my brother—I’ll claim it was the excitement of Simon and apologize, if I got into trouble for it. I owed him one and I like to pay up.
“Simon! My god, Simon!” I knelt down and hugged him too tightly. He gasped for air. He’ll get over it. I needed to hug him a little while longer. I broke my hug and looked at him. My hands flew all over him checking for injuries, checking for growth, just checking. He was with me again and I needed to make sure he was real.
“Hey, Zee. I’m glad you made it, I knew you would. They kept saying you were dead, I knew better and told them so.”
“Yes, you did.” I hugge
d him again.
“Uh-hem,” the soldier cleared his throat. I looked up and gave him my death look. How dare he interrupt us? Who did he think he was? “I have to take you to the gardens, and you young man, I believe you have a class to attend.”
Simon reddened, he had always been bashful. “Yes, Jolly, I remember.” Simon smiled at him.
“Hurry along, they are waiting for you.”
This soldier had kind words for my brother. It enraged me more. From what he did to me, he was not one of the good guys and had tricked my brother into thinking he was. I wanted to attack him. If not for Simon, I would have.
Simon volunteered a hug, it caught me off guard. My death match with this stranger had taken my focus off him. “I’ll see you later, Zee.” He hugged me again and then he left.
I felt empty. The emptiness had to be filled with something, and this soldier; the one who had hosed me with pleasure, which had probably undressed and dressed me with pleasure, he filled the void nicely. I got to my feet, ready to challenge him.
“Don’t.” He held up a hand to me, anticipating my attack. “Simon has missed you and it would be a shame if you died moments after your reunion. Don’t forget Doctor Blake’s warning, they are true and we follow them to the letter. This way,” he handed me a pair of boots. “No more freebies.”
His look was strong. He caught the move I had made and was giving me a pass. I smiled and took my boots. My choices were to follow him or to attack him for unknown crimes. I played it smart and followed.
He led me out through several buildings to a big house, the garden. As we approached the structure there was no mistaking it for anything other than a greenhouse. The walls had windows of various sizes and shapes throughout. No doubt collected from abandoned houses. A layer of plastic covered the rest and once inside, I would be able to see if the roof was glass or plastic.
The soldier held the door open for me. Why do they always have that sick smile and grubby teeth? His taunts wouldn’t win today. I had my brother and we would never separate again. I gave my best sarcastic smile and went inside. Sure enough, a collection of windows formed the roof. The design, charming and inspirational. I could see myself working here, it would be peaceful.
Zombie Zora Page 18
