Zombie Crusade (Book 4): Eastern Front

by J. W. Vohs

  Carter smacked the back of Jack’s head. “You jack-ass! We ain’t had a hot meal since we left Brandenburg, and here y’all are eatin’ fresh beef?”

  “Relax, killer,” Maddy interrupted, “we really did just find this critter.”

  “And,” Zach added, “Your buddy, Jack, is pretty stingy when it comes to rations.”

  “Two MREs a day, kid,” Jack shot back. “I’m not the one who stowed away in Chad’s convoy to get down here to enjoy these skimpy rations. Stay home and eat real food next time there’s fighting to be done.”

  “He’s a danger to the rations wherever he is,” Maddy remarked not quite under her breath.

  “Everybody shut up and eat,” Chad demanded. “I call dibs on that fillet . . .”

  An hour later, after much discussion, a new plan of action was in place. Jack would be heading west with David and Carter to work on organizing the defense of Vicksburg, leaving Chad in command of the team tasked with keeping Barnes occupied for a few more weeks. Carter was already waving the pilot towards shore when David stepped over to his brother with a worried look on his face.

  “What is it?” Jack asked.

  “Luke.”

  “What about him?”

  “He needs to come with us.”

  Jack looked surprised, “Chad may be in charge of this mission, but he has no better soldier for the type of work that needs to be done out here than Luke. And if anything should happen to Chad, I need Luke here to help keep things on track.”

  David nodded, “I understand what you’re saying, but he needs to come with us. Just trust me on this.”

  Jack put his hands on his hips and cocked his head in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? He’ll be in Vicksburg before Barnes.”

  David shook his head, “It’s a damn big continent, Jack. We need to keep him near us. He has his ‘feelings’ sometimes, and they’ve always steered us in the right direction.” He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder and looked him square in the eye. “I’m having one of those feelings myself right now. He comes with us.”

  Jack growled in frustration, knowing that the kind of bond that developed between the various members of the group that had survived the harrowing journey from Cleveland months before gave them a special intuition about each other. He shared the same kind of connection with Carter, and he’d come to trust those sorts of instincts. In addition, he’d promised David that he planned on keeping the group together as much as possible as they fought the war. “Fine. Whatever. You tell him to pack his kit; I need to talk to Maddy and Zach before we leave.”

  Thirty minutes later the pilot was heading back to the Ohio River as fast as the Green would safely allow; the four soldiers on his boat were less than friendly with one another as they sat silently about the cabin.

  Luke finally broke the spell, “I should have stayed with Zach and Maddy.”

  “They’ll be fine, and you’ll be more valuable here with us,” David explained.

  “I’m not sure Chad still has the energy for a mission like the one I just left him with,” Jack worried.

  Carter snorted, “That ol’ man taught us everythin’ we know, and he’s only fifty years old. That ain’t old fer a Ranger. He can prob’ly outrun and outfight every man in his unit.”

  “I’ll still worry about him,” Jack countered.

  “So will I,” Carter admitted, “but we’re in the middle of a war here. Ya gotta trust people to play their roles. We gotta bring together a lot of different folks, we gotta teach ‘em how to fight what’s comin’, and you’re the man to it. If ya think of someone better fer that job, I’ll run ya back down here myself.”

  David wasn’t saying a word, but he was secretly relieved to have Luke at Jack’s side as the next phase of this war developed. He really did have a strong feeling about the importance of Luke to this part of the mission, but he figured it had more to do with his desire to keep father and son in close proximity to one another than in any unrelated mystical insight. David had decided that Luke and Jack needed to learn the truth before the next big battle; they deserved to know their relation, and if he waited too long, he risked losing the opportunity to tell them while they were both alive and well. He couldn’t imagine losing either one, but under the current circumstances, he knew it was naïve not to consider the possibility. Now he just had to find the right moment . . .

  The pilot made record time down to Cairo, flying down the river with the current and a fortuitous east-wind. One of the mayor’s deputies met with Jack and the others soon after they docked. The leadership in Cairo had spoken with Ted Simmons back in Indiana, and he was certain that they could have a rail line open to Vicksburg within a few days. Making the trip from Fort Wayne would require a rather circuitous route, but the trains coming from Utah would just need to veer to the south somewhere in Iowa. Stanley Rickers had volunteered to maintain security of the entire area with a force of just forty soldiers; the remainder would be embarking for Vicksburg as soon as the railway was open. Finally, Hiram Anderson, leader of the Utah contingent in Indiana, had been completely briefed on the situation and promised that he would talk with his boss, Stephen Carlson, back in Logan. Hiram assured his allies that the defensive effort at Vicksburg could count on Utah’s unwavering support, but he needed to crunch numbers with the leadership out there before he could give accurate details of how much help could be provided.

  Jack was pleased with the report, and impressed with the speed and efficiency with which people in both Fort Wayne and Cairo had stepped up to coordinate their war efforts. David was anxious to contact his wife, so while his brother reached out to check in with Indiana, Jack decided that the last thing he needed to do before leaving Cairo was meet the mayor. He found the practical politician waiting for him at city-headquarters, a hearty meal of chicken, fried-catfish fillets, and an impressive assortment of corn-based dishes having been prepared in Jack’s honor. Apparently, stories of the northern warrior’s exploits had arrived before he did, and the locals were excited to meet the man responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands of infected. Jack was uncomfortable with the adulation, and he hoped that they all realized he’d won his victories with a small army at his side. Sometimes he wondered if people remembered that he would have been killed many times over without the brave men and women who fought next to him.

  All of that was forgotten as Jack dug in to the incredible meal after more than a week in the field. True, he’d had fresh beef a day earlier, but the impressive spread lying before him here was varied and delicious. While they were eating, the mayor explained that there were hundreds of local men, and a few women, who were basically full-time fighters with very little organization and virtually no standardization in equipment, weapons, or tactics. Hundreds more were interested in joining any unit being organized to fight General Barnes, convinced that sooner or later every free person in America was going to have to face the madman. At this very moment, shops with biker gear and leather stores of all types were being located and thoroughly searched in an effort to equip the new forces with zombie-proof clothing. Pikes, hammers, axes, and bladed weapons of all makes and models were being collected everywhere from small farms to abandoned home improvement stores. Finally, Jack was briefed on how the current Cairo security forces were using their war dogs, and he thought that the animals might provide a significant advantage in detecting and possibly redirecting large numbers of the infected as the war against Barnes continued.

  During a round of enhanced coffee following dinner, the mayor spoke candidly with Jack and the others about how people in the area felt about the war. “Like most wars, I guess,” he explained, “the young bucks want to run off and fight while the older folks just want to be left alone. I understand both sides of the argument. The folks who want to sit this thing out know that they somehow managed to survive an apocalypse they still don’t understand, and no matter what they’ll say to your face, most of ‘em still believe the government’s gonna show up any d
ay now and turn the power back on. They have food stored for the winter and plenty of firewood, and they know they can count on their neighbors if they run low on either.”

  The old politician took a large gulp of his spiked coffee before continuing. “Then we have the people who believe the basics about Barnes, how he developed and unleashed the virus and now’s using it to try to take over what’s left of the country. They believe it, but think they’re safe here. I’d say about half of our population falls into one of those two groups. Now, they’ll contribute to the war effort, whether they want to or not, through foodstuffs and other supplies, working the river, and watching their kids run off to fight.

  “The rest of the people around here have seen and heard enough evidence to back up what y’all have told us about the national situation, and they’re convinced that free Americans better stick together or they’ll die separately. In other words, they’re all in. From this group we’ll get troops, shipping, supplies—basically everything a country engaged in total war needs to get.”

  Jack nodded appreciatively, “Mayor, I can’t say thank you in strong enough terms to express how I feel about you and the people around here. You’ve helped out my men, provided transportation, and now you’re going all in on this war. You have my eternal admiration and gratitude.”

  The mayor turned a bit red in the face, though whether the color was from embarrassment or booze nobody knew. “Frankly, son, I feel ashamed that we haven’t been out there seeking information more aggressively; we just hunkered down here and waited to see how things turned out. You and your people have been standing against these flesh-eaters since day-one, and we’re just now getting involved. So if anyone needs to be gracious in this room, it’s me.”

  “I’m just glad you’re with us now, sir.”

  The mayor smiled widely, “Just between you and me, I’ve been getting a bit of cabin fever the last few months. Now we have direction and purpose, and the good folks around here will be happy to know how to start working to improve things in the world.”

  Jack didn’t smile in reply. “Mayor, I understand you fought in Vietnam?”

  “Marines,” the old man proudly declared.

  Jack nodded and jibed, “Pretty good outfit, not exactly the Rangers, but still pretty good.”

  The mayor sipped his coffee before pointing a beefy finger toward Jack and grinning. “In my day, the Rangers were men who washed out of Marine Corps training!”

  Everybody laughed long and hard over that one, knowing that the argument over which group of warriors was deadlier than the other would never be fully answered. The bottom line was that each unit had different skills for different purposes, and the men serving in the ranks of the elite organizations had great respect for one another. Jack finally stopped laughing and admitted, “You and I both know that a young man has to be half-crazy to enlist in either unit.”

  The mayor nodded as he finished wiping his eyes and catching his breath. “But anyway, yeah, I’ve been to war.”

  Jack stared at the old Marine and grew serious, “So we both know that some of these folks excited to join us won’t make it back home.”

  With a solemn nod the mayor acknowledged, “Maybe a lot of folks, but what choice do they have?” He shrugged and continued, “Most of the young ones are pretty convinced it’ll be the next guy that gets it, but hasn’t it always been that way? But the people who’ve served in the wars on terror, and those who fought their way through the outbreak to get here, they know what they’re signing on for. I’m trusting your men to put our troops in no more, or less, danger than you put your own soldiers in. After spending some time getting’ to know y’all, I believe my trust is well-placed.”

  Jack held up his mug in salute, “To our new allies . . .”

  The mayor returned the gesture, and in a booming voice called out, “Here’s to those who wish us well, as for the rest, we’ll send ‘em to hell.”

  David didn’t object to missing dinner, as long as he had an opportunity to hear Christy’s voice. He was amazed that Deb was able to put her on the radio almost instantly.

  “Hey, baby, Sal and I just now got back from Noble County. Did you get my message?”

  “Uh, I got a message. Did Vickie have to give you some sort of a test? Or were you hoping that Vickie had access to some sort of test for the baby? Are you both alright?”

  Christy groaned, “When you see Carter, tell him I said he’s an idiot. The baby—Jerald James or Hope Jamie—is fine. Remember we talked about names? Anyway, I didn’t need any tests, but I know about the test Vickie ran for you.” David wasn’t sure what to say, but Christy didn’t give him a chance to respond anyway. “You know I don’t like secrets, and you know they have a way of coming out regardless. My advice is you don’t keep this one too long. Now we aren’t going to mention it again till it’s not a secret anymore.”

  David readily agreed with most every word she said. “I want to at least say I’m sorry I didn’t fill you in, and I want to tell Vickie I regret putting her in the middle.”

  “She stayed in Noble County with Redders; I don’t think Sal was too keen about it either, but the good doctors think they’re onto something big. Maybe even some sort of vaccine somewhere down the line.”

  “That’d be incredible, and they’re both brilliant physicians, but I’m not going to hold my breath for that to happen.” David cleared his throat. “So, uh, I remember talking about baby names, but didn’t we decide that Jerald or Jerry sounded too much like an old man’s name? I mean, you know how much I admired Jerry Seifert . . .”

  “If it’s a boy, we’ll call him J.J.—after Jerry and my dad. J.J. doesn’t sound like an old man’s name. My mom really likes it.”

  “So how is your mom? I’ve been thinking about your parents a lot lately. I’m glad you went out to the farm; maybe you should stay there for a while—”

  “Mom’s good,” Christy cut in. “We all miss my dad, but he may still be helping us out. Have you heard about what Father O’Brien is up to? There’s an island of survivors on Lake Huron, and my cousin Michael lives on Manitoulin Island up there. Dad talked to him early on, and told him how to deal with the infected.”

  “So you think that the people Father O’Brien has been talking to are from Manitoulin Island? Did they say that?”

  “No, they are wisely cautious about letting their location be known, but they’re sending an envoy to Middle Bass.”

  “Honey, do you have any idea how many islands there are on Lake Huron?”

  Christy groaned again. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? Of course, I know that there are tons of islands on Lake Huron, but I only know of one that had any knowledge of Jack’s manual. I only know of one that had a well-informed Carboni living on it, and I only know of one with tons of resources and a swing bridge to cut it off from the mainland. I told Father O’Brien all about it, and he thinks I’m on to something.”

  David had no desire to argue with his wife, especially given their limited time to speak with one another. “I trust your instincts, baby.”

  “I wish you were here,” she sniffed. “I miss talking to you, and with all that’s going on, we’ll probably have even fewer opportunities to communicate.” She sighed. “Do you think you’ll be able to stop Barnes? The mobilization on this end has been pretty impressive.”

  “I honestly don’t know,” he replied, “but I do know that I miss you more than I can say. Try not to worry about me, even if we don’t get a chance to talk for a while.”

  “You know I’m going to worry, but I really have faith that you and Jack and the others can pull this thing off. I feel so useless right now; I want to contribute to this fight, but around here I just feel like I’m in the way.”

  “I’m sure you just don’t realize what a difference you make up there every day. Listen, we all know that the resistance can use all the help it can get. Why don’t you focus on helping Father O’Brien befriend the islanders from Ontario? They may have a r
eputation for being all civilized and polite, but anybody who knows anything about either world war knows that Canadians can fight like super-soldiers.”

  Christy was smiling when she replied, “Have I told you lately that you’re the best husband in the entire world? I’m going to make befriending the Canadians my personal mission, whether they’re related to me or not. Mom even suggested us having the baby over on Middle Bass, just to get us somewhere that seems to be off Barnes’ radar. I told her I’d think about it. It’s not like it’s an easy trip, and I would have to have you with me when we get close to the due date.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” David said slowly, “I’ll just have to think about it. Right now, let’s just consider it one of our options.”

  “Right now, I don’t want you worrying about anyone or anything except keeping yourself alive and stopping that bastard Barnes. That’s your job, and I’ll focus on helping Father O’Brien build a positive relationship with our neighbors to the north.”

  The trip from Cairo to Vicksburg took nearly twelve hours, but the time on the water offered Jack and Luke an opportunity to catch up on some much needed sleep. The same pilot who complained about taking Carter and David on their initial journey to Vicksburg was still grumbling during the return trip, though it was clear that he’d volunteered for the job. When Carter asked the pilot why he didn’t just stay in Cairo and let someone else ferry them to Vicksburg, the man spat and replied, “I wouldn’t want to subject any of my friends to you folks; I’m just real generous by nature.”

  David suggested a few rounds of poker to pass the time, but the card playing was cut short when Carter won back the AR-15 by bluffing with a pair of twos. The pilot declared a moratorium on gambling for the rest of the journey, even though both Carter and David were more than willing to forget about the bet and make good on their promised payment for the transportation. The pilot refused their offer, and grinning uncharacteristically, said they needed to learn about honor among thieves.