The Renegades 2 Aftermath (A Post Apocalyptic Zombie Thriller)

by Hunt, Jack

  That evening we ate pork and beans out of cans. We were right next to a whole foods store and eating processed food. The irony.

  I cast a glance at Benjamin wondering what his story was. Any one of us could have overpowered him. Why did he help?

  * * *

  I would like to say it was a restful night of sleep but it wasn’t. Caitlin turned sometime in the early hours of the morning. Izzy had taken it upon herself to end it. Caitlin didn’t want to shoot herself before she turned. It never ceased to amaze me how badly I felt after losing someone that I had only briefly known. Though it was the same long before the apocalypse. Every year I would hear of someone who had passed away from cancer, suicide, or an overdose. It would hit me in the core. I would feel the loss, regardless of how well I knew them. Maybe it’s because we are all connected in some unseen way?

  Benjamin had closed the rolling shutters later that evening. The use of blacked-out paint was to prevent anyone who might be passing by from seeing light. He covered the small area that wasn’t painted with duct tape. In the morning he removed it and looked out. We didn’t learn much from him that night. He was quiet and aloof. That morning he had made it known that when this had all kicked off he was part of the police department. He was one of the SWAT team. He didn’t really own the stores, but he had made them his own. For the longest of time he lived off food from the shelves next door. It was eventually raided by a gang. Thankfully he had managed to keep them out of Wilderness Outfitters with the shutters. The fake wall he’d built was his final form of protection. It worked well because it was pitch-dark inside. Anyone else would have just seen a dead end at the end of a hallway.

  “Have you seen many of these gangs?” I asked, lighting a cigarette.

  He laughed. “This city is full of them.”

  “Where are they? We never saw them coming in.”

  “You will. They are out there, like rats. I’m sure they are holed inside an apartment or the shopping center.”

  “You make it sound as though there are a lot of them.”

  Benjamin pulled away from the window to look at me.

  “Most days of the week my team and I were raiding drug houses in the city. There are over three hundred gangs in this region. You think the Z’s are deadly? You don’t want to encounter them. They are merciless.”

  He returned to looking out.

  “So why haven’t you left here?” Dax asked, scooping melon from a can into his mouth.

  “Where would I go?”

  “I don’t know. Look for others?”

  He scoffed. “People are dead. This is it. This is life now.”

  “So you are just going to stay holed up in this place? What about when all the food is gone?”

  “I’ll go out for more and bring it back.”

  “Come with us. We could use a man of your skills.”

  He shook his head. “Where are you going?”

  “Wherever they were broadcasting from. That’s where we’re heading.”

  OVERRUN

  Benjamin wasn’t keen on going with us. His reluctance to leave was odd. He stood a better chance of survival in a group. But somehow he didn’t see it that way. I assumed he was used to working with a team. That he would have jumped at the chance. I figured there was something that he wasn’t telling us.

  Johnny and the others crowded round a table and stared at the map of the city. Benjamin knew the place like the back of his hand. He mentioned that the signal could have been broadcast from any one of the three thousand radio stations, but more than likely it came from the CDC. He took a red marker and circled its location, then mapped out several routes. The closest to us was a large radio station. Benjamin said they were known for providing the latest news for Salt Lake City.

  “You know what you are attempting is a suicide mission,” he said.

  “Every time we step a foot outside, it’s potential suicide,” I replied.

  “If Z’s don’t get you, one of the gangs will.”

  “More reason for you to come with us. We could use the help,” Johnny said.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Ok, well, what about weapons?” Baja asked.

  “Take whatever you can find from the storage out back. Most of the goods in the store itself were looted by a gang who broke in a few days ago. Thankfully they never made it to the storage area. There’s an axe down there, bowie knives, a pump-action shotgun, three boxes of shells. I’m sure you’ll be able to find some ammo for the assault rifles and well… just go take a look.”

  Baja, Specs, and Ralphie strolled off to see what could be used.

  While Benjamin continued to show Johnny a few of the routes, I went over to Izzy. She was going through her regular routine of checking the ammo in the two handguns we had.

  “How many bullets?” I asked.

  “Four.”

  “Let’s hope there’s more in storage.”

  She nodded.

  “How you doing?”

  I cleared my throat and took a seat beside her. It had been a long time since we had made time to talk to each other.

  “I’ve been meaning to say—”

  “Don’t,” she cut me off before I could finish. “The past is the past.”

  I shrugged. Clearly she wasn’t interest in rehashing the past. “Right.”

  She had good reason to be angry. I got up and walked away thinking about what had led up to this. Before I had left for the military, things were good between us.

  I know I should have told her sooner about enlisting, but I didn’t. She didn’t find out until a week before boot camp. She had been going through a lot with her family and had almost become dependent on having me around. Though she won’t admit that.

  Telling her about the military was like dropping a bomb. She didn’t handle it well. That’s when the blame game started. I was responsible for everything that was going wrong in her life. Up until that point we had been together for four years. It had always been us. I knew she wouldn’t have coped even if I had told her earlier — that’s why I held back.

  It didn’t help that a rumor was circulating around that I had found someone else. That wasn’t true but it was the final nail in the coffin. Besides a few offhand comments we hadn’t spoken since. I figured that wouldn’t change.

  * * *

  Baja burst into the room wearing a bandolier of bullets across his chest and waving two handguns.

  “Ay, amigos.”

  He was pumping the air with two CZ P-09s when one of them went off. A few chunks of ceiling tile dropped.

  “Shit,” Baja said, with a face now covered in white dust.

  “Where the hell did you get this guy from?” Benjamin asked.

  “He’s special,” Dax replied.

  “Yeah. I figured. You might want to confiscate the guns from him before he shoots himself.”

  Ralphie came back with his arms full of ammo boxes, and an axe strapped to his back. Specs crept around the corner with a crossbow.

  “That’s mine,” Jess hollered. He tossed her the crossbow.

  “I’ll take the shotgun,” I approached Specs who had strapped it to his back.

  “Dude, I want this,” Specs said, reluctant to give it up.

  “Yeah, right.”

  Specs shook his head and handed it over. It was a Benelli SuperNova Tactical Pump-Action Shotgun. It was as slick as shit. I held it up and peered down the sight.

  “How many does it hold?”

  “Four, two and three-quarter shells,” Specs rattled off the details as if he had been part of the manufacturing of the damn thing.

  “Sweet.”

  “Any handguns?” Dax asked.

  “Take your pick,” Ralphie returned from another trip out back and slid a box full of various pieces across the floor. Dax took out a couple of Sig Sauers.

  “Don’t take them all. I’m gonna need some,” Benjamin added.

  “Right, but if you come with us...”

  �
��Like I said. I go it alone.”

  “Your funeral, man,” Baja replied.

  “And knives?”

  Specs tossed a Swiss Army knife to Dax and was about to show more when Baja stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Please. Allow me.”

  He crouched down over a box. He wrapped a piece of rag around his head. Seconds later he came up holding two huge bowie knives and spoke in a shit Australian accent.

  “That ain’t a knife, this is a knife.”

  “Okay, I don’t know whether to shoot him or find the nearest mental hospital and drop him off,” Dax replied shaking his head.

  I came over and tapped him on the arm and took one of the knives.

  “Nice touch with the bandana, man, but I think that’s Rambo, dude, not Crocodile Dundee,” I said.

  “What can I say, I like to mix it up.”

  Once we were all geared up, one by one we thanked Benjamin. Somehow I sensed we would see him again. He told us to wait while he made sure the coast was clear. We were downstairs when we heard his foot tap twice indicating it was all good to go. I was the last one out. I pulled down the metal shutters and glanced up at the small hole. I gave a short nod and then we took off.

  At least now we felt prepared for whatever came our way. We had eaten well, and with our bellies full and plenty of ammo, we made our way through the back streets of the city. Benjamin had marked out two routes just in case one of them didn’t work out.

  “So we’ll make our way to the CDC and stop at that radio station on the way.”

  “What are you hoping to find, Dax?” Izzy asked. She obviously was unconvinced by his leadership skills.

  “Maybe they left a note. I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? I wish we had just stayed. I think Benjamin was right. We are risking our lives right now for what?” Izzy asked.

  Dax spun around to Izzy. “You want to hole up inside there like him? That’s no way to live. We need to find these safe zones.”

  “And what if there aren’t any? Huh?”

  Izzy just shook her head and pushed by him. Dax grabbed her by the arm.

  “Get off, Dax, I mean it.”

  Dax stared at her.

  “Dax,” I said. Then as if snapping out of it, he let her go.

  * * *

  As we turned into an alley we came to a halt. The dead were all over the place. Halfway up there was a turn to the right. That was our exit. But there were at least twenty shuffling around in the alley.

  “Lock and load,” Dax said.

  “Don’t you mean load and lock?” Specs tried to correct Dax. It didn’t go over well.

  “Time to see if these shrimps slice up well,” Baja took out two jagged-edged bowie knives.

  “Dude, we aren’t getting through them with knives,” I said.

  I raised my shotgun and one by one started unloading rounds into the Z’s. They dropped like flies. Each of us moved forward, while Baja and Specs covered our backs. Ralphie was meant to keep an eye on the roofs above. We moved as one tight formation. We had no idea if and when gang members would show up. But if they were going to find us, it would be now. We were making plenty of noise. On top of all of that, we were attracting even more Z’s.

  “How we doing?” Specs yelled.

  “Nearly there.”

  The plan was to pull in two of the dumpsters behind us as we got into the alley to decrease the amount of Z’s that would get through. What we didn’t bank on when making that right turn was coming face-to-face with another horde. The entire alley was packed. There was no way we were going to make it.

  “We need to get the hell off the ground!” I yelled.

  Unfortunately, there was no fire escape. The nearest one was further down.

  “What do we do?” Specs asked.

  “Specs, Baja, grab those dumpsters and move them forward,” Jess yelled, taking charge.

  All of the alleyways in the city had these large metal dumpsters where all the trash was thrown out. Some of them were partially empty, but most were filled to the brim. Many of the black trash bags were stacked up against the sides. The whole alley stunk like the back end of a cow’s dirty ass. Z’s snarled and moaned like filthy animals. Several of the fast ones had managed to break through the group. One knocked Jess to the ground. I would have helped her but we were all trying to keep back the surge that felt like an ocean’s tide pushing up against a shore. At this rate we were going to blow through all the ammo we had in a matter of minutes.

  I turned to see Jess stabbing the grotesque beast in the eye. Blood spewed over her face. Thick globs ran down her cheeks as she shoved it off only to find herself wrestling with two more. I fired two rounds and they dropped, covering her like blankets.

  “There’s too many,” Izzy yelled.

  It didn’t matter how many we killed, ten more took their place. The alley was filling up fast. The noise of their moans was horrendous.

  “Get in.”

  I lifted the metal lid on the dumpster and Izzy and Ralphie jumped in. On the opposite side Dax had already climbed into one and was providing cover to Baja and Specs. One of the Z’s had managed to grab a hold of Baja’s pants and they were now halfway down his legs exposing his naked ass. My heartbeat felt like it was pumping a million times a minute. I didn’t have a chance to see what happened to Jess. The lid slammed down and then it was like being inside a casket. Echoes of meaty hands and knees slamming up against the dumpster were only made worse by the sound of their snarling.

  It had spiraled out of control real fast.

  There must have been thousands turned in the city. While they weren’t all together in one spot, there were enough of them to make Castle Rock’s attack look like child’s play.

  Ralphie had his hands pressed over his ears. Izzy must have expected the lids to open any second as she had her assault rifle aimed up.

  The clatter didn’t ease up. I thought it would never end. How long we were inside was anyone’s guess. Time ceased to exist. The smell entering my nostrils was beyond anything I had ever experienced. It wasn’t just the aroma of trash. It was the smell of death.

  All I could think about was Jess. Her body covered in three Z’s, blood all over her as more Z’s piled over the top clawing their way forward, eager to sink teeth into flesh.

  As we waited for the living dead to move on we stared at each other in the darkness. Our eyes had adjusted. The only light came from the end of our guns. The glow lit up the inside and brought home the reality of what we were sitting on. It wasn’t just bags. It was dead bodies. Izzy screamed when she saw a hand. Ralphie’s cry wasn’t much different. Instantly we thought the worst. Were they Z’s, or humans about to turn?

  Any second now I was expecting one of them to bite my nads. But in the whole time we’d been trapped in there, none of them moved. I swept light down on the face of one of them. A dark hole penetrating its forehead brought a wave of relief. Someone had killed them and tossed their bodies inside. Why? They weren’t Z’s? Had they been bitten? Had they attempted to clean up the streets? Perhaps they knew that the entire city was about to turn.

  What had they experienced? I thought about what it must have been like to have been in a city full of Z’s.

  Ralphie laid his gun down and reached into the pocket of one of the dead. He pulled out a wallet and cracked it open.

  “Fifty bucks, well how about that?”

  He tossed it to one side, then retrieved the victim’s ID.

  “A Michael Wentworth. He was a medic.” Izzy and I just listened in as he continued to rattle on about some stranger that none of us knew or even cared about. But someone did. Were they dead too?

  As Ralphie continued rooting through the man’s pockets, I moved up and cracked the lid ever so slightly. I wanted to get a better look at where Jess was. I could see the Z’s but not her. She was gone.

  “Psst! Hey,” I tried my best to call to the others who were in the green metal dumpster across from us. A zombie turned and f
ixed its milky eyes on me and started shuffling over.

  “Guys, is Jess in there?”

  The lid went up a little. It was Dax. He just shook his head.

  I didn’t need to close the dumpster lid as a Z fell against it. I caught my finger between the lid and the rim. I shook my hand, grimacing in pain, and began to chuckle at my own stupidity.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  My head dropped. That’s when I heard a knock. From below us, it occurred twice.

  “You hear that?” Izzy asked.

  It was muted by the layer of dead that we were sitting on but at the same time clearly it was a knock. I slid my hand down through the mess of rotting flesh and knocked twice. The knock happened again.

  “It’s Jess,” I said.

  “You sure?”

  I straightened back up. “She must have crawled underneath the dumpster.”

  I lifted the lid. “That you, Jess?” I whispered.

  “Yep.”

  “You okay?”

  “No bites.”

  I lowered the lid again, relieved that she was still alive, and unharmed. We must have been inside that dumpster for the better part of three hours. That’s how long it took before the Z’s moved out. By the time Jess felt safe enough to slide out and join us, there were only ten remaining Z’s by my estimate. The others had wandered off into the city. Over the course of those three hours we heard gunfire a few times. There were others out there. Were they the gangs that Benjamin spoke of? We had no way of knowing. Maybe they were like us? Those who were seeking other survivors. Trying to stay alive and keep their sanity in the process.

  102.5 THE WOLF

  It was late afternoon when we rolled out. We stunk to high heaven but we were alive. Jess told us that if it hadn’t been for the three dead Z’s that had covered and smothered her like a blanket she wouldn’t have survived. Over the course of an hour she shuffled on her back using the dead Z’s as a shield until she had reached the dumpster. She then hid beneath it.

  “You look like you are a newborn baby,” Izzy remarked as we tried to wipe off the grime. We had got used to smelling bad. It was odd how much hygiene was taken seriously before all this. Now, we didn’t care. Survival was more important.