Kyler leaned back in the chair and just enjoyed not being in fear for his life for a few minutes. The local guys brought out a case of beer that was actually a little bit chilled. Kyler took one of the ones being passed around and sipped at it while he sat there. He had no desire to fall into the alcoholism trap he saw so many others falling into, but a nice cool beer wasn’t something he felt like passing on at the moment.
They sat and talked and drank until Krantz came back down the stairs. He looked up when he noticed everyone had stopped talking to stare at him.
“We stay here. The fugitives have been caught and are being shipped up here via plane. They’ll land them in the middle of the interstate. We’ll pick them up and take them to the Senator then get our next orders. So, get some rest. They’ll be here sometime tonight or tomorrow night. Any questions?”
“What makes these people so important? This seems like a lot of work to punish a couple murderers. All this and they’re just going to execute them once we get them to the Senator anyway.” Kyler spoke up. He knew everyone had been thinking it. From the hesitancy of his response Krantz had been thinking about it too.
“As far as I know one of these douchebags killed the Senator’s sister who was also the governess of the education program we’ve been building up. The Senator is probably looking for a little payback for his sister and looking to set these poor bastards up as an example. Either way he’s the man in charge so we’re getting it done. Also, thanks for volunteering.” Krantz finished off with a smile.
“Volunteering?” Kyler asked. Rodriguez punched him hard in the arm.
“Shut up dude.” Rodriguez whispered.
“I need you and Rodriguez to run down to the highway and verify there’s nothing on it that may screw up the landing. We need about a quarter mile to be policed. Mark it off with something we can stick road flares in for when the planes inbound. Any questions?” Krantz waited for any questions. On not hearing any he told everyone else to go to bed and sent Rodriguez and Kyler with one of the fire house men to get a couple of bikes and whatever else they needed.
“Thanks man, this is awesome.” Rodriguez said looking at the two mountain bikes they’d been provided. They also had a couple of bows and five cans of spray paint. The spray paint was to use to mark the road in case something happened that caused the plane to end up coming during the day instead of the night. It was the apocalypse, so it wasn’t like plans always came together the way you hoped.
They’d been given directions to take some back roads that’d get them down to the interstate without being seen by any Zombies. That was the plan anyway. They’d only gone a few feet when Rodriguez let out a howl of pain. Kyler skidded to a halt on his bike to see what was wrong.
“No worries man. I just can’t sit is all. I totally forgot half my ass cheek got sliced off and tried to sit down on this tiny freaking seat. I’m good. I’ll stand and peddle.”
They continued on down the path they’d been shown. No Zombies showed up as a result of Rodriguez having squealed like a stuck pig when he sat on the bicycle seat. The service road ended at an old cell tower with a rusty chain link fence surrounding it. They ditched the bikes and hiked through the narrow strip of woods separating them from the interstate. Neither of them said a word as they carefully scanned the road for any Zombies.
They strung the hunting bows they’d been given. Kyler kind of doubted how useful they’d be against Zombies since it wasn’t like him or Rodriguez were Robin Hood. They could both hit a tree from about twenty feet away fairly consistently. As far as hitting a moving target at a greater distance in an area of the body that’d cause them to actually die. It was hard enough killing Zombies when you were rocking an M-16. Kyler filed the bows away in the area of his brain reserved for things that he considered to be of marginal value. He’d been about as excited being handed the bow as he would’ve been if they handed him a scientific calculator.
Knowing they were being watched from above they located the proper mile marker and painted a big orange line on it. They painted some big arrows then walked down that side of the road checking for any garbage that may be big enough to flip a plane over. It turned out there was a lot of crap on the interstate that looked like it could do some damage to a plane. None of them had even noticed it in the car as they just drove around anything that they saw laying there. Most of the big stuff had been removed by the crews that’d been sent to clean up the roads but there was still plenty of junk.
Kyler looked up from rolling a blown-out tire into the ditch to see Rodriguez staring at something in the road. He walked up to join him. Laying in the middle of the road were the remains of a few Zombies. It looked like they’d played chicken with an eighteen-wheeler and lost. They’d been twisted into all kinds of interesting shapes. For some reason they were all naked. Kyler didn’t know if that was because they’d been running around the interstate in the buff or if the truck had knocked their clothes off when it hit them.
The bodies seemed pretty fresh. Vultures had been working on the good parts. Eyeballs and testicles had been ripped off. All the easy to get soft pieces of choice flesh were gone. What was left was a pile of meat and bones that stunk to high heaven. Kyler had no idea what it meant to stink to high heaven, but he decided right then and there that this was now his measuring stick as far as stinking went. Rodriguez was poking the remains of a leg with his boot trying to scoot it across the road. It wasn’t moving. It looked like the congealed flesh had glued itself to the road.
“We don’t need bows. We need shovels.” Kyler whispered at Rodriguez who glumly nodded.
Kyler set his pack on the floor and pulled out a couple of pairs of heavy-duty work gloves. He’d grabbed them to throw on when he knew they were going to be going hand to hand with Zombies. The tough material should help protect him from getting bit. They were plentiful enough he could just throw them away when the fight was over to avoid worrying about any infected gunk that may have gotten on them. He tossed a pair to Rodriguez and the two of them took on the beyond disgusting job of moving the remains off the road.
Four hours later they were done clearing the strip they’d been assigned. Kyler finished spray painting the last line on the road and they turned to head back. Off in the distance in the direction they needed to go a lone shape was stumbling down the road towards them. They were both exhausted so moved off the side of the road and popped a squat in the bushes to wait for the Zombie to go past them. They waited for about thirty minutes before Rodriguez finally motioned at his bow then pointed at Kyler’s.
Kyler understood immediately. They both knew it was a bad idea. Kyler wanted to get back to the base and sleep and Rodriguez was thinking about the cold beer though. They both pulled an arrow and crept through the trees in the direction of the loner Zombie. When they were as close as they were going to get without being seen they lined up and took their shots. They both missed.
The Zombie stopped and looked around. It did the sniffing thing and turned slowly in a full circle trying to figure out if the weird noises it’d just heard meant there were normal humans in the area. When the Zombie had its back facing them, they both shot again. Kyler’s arrow bounced off the Zombies shoulder and landed on the ground, but the one Rodriguez shot stuck in the Zombies back. It didn’t appear to do any real damage, but it did stick.
The Zombie started to turn faster in tighter and more agitated looking circles. The lone arrow sticking out of its back a constant reminder of their inability to bring the Zombie down quietly. They systematically took turns missing the target until the Zombie finally suspected something was going on in the woods and started walking towards them. Kyler and Rodriguez hid behind trees and waited until they could hear the snuffling sounds of the Zombie approaching close to the tree line that they were hidden in.
Kyler pantomimed a countdown from three on his left hand where Rodriguez could see it. When he reached zero, they both stepped out from the cover of the trees with an arrow notched and let the
m fly. They both missed. The Zombie charged screeching at them. Rodriguez used his bow like a baseball bat and cracked the Zombie across the face. The Zombie ignored the pain and threw itself teeth first at Kyler. Kyler sidestepped and then jumped on the Zombies back when it landed on the ground.
Knowing the most important thing was to keep the Zombie quiet he put both hands on the back of the Zombies head and pressed its face into the ground as hard as he could. He was straddling the Zombies back with both his knees firmly pressed down. Rodriguez pulled out a knife and busied himself making holes in different parts of the Zombies body trying to kill it without splattering blood all over both of them. In most fights they ended up walking around with drying Zombie blood all over them. It was pretty gross. Plus, there was always the fear of infection as well.
Kyler held the Zombie’s head pressed into the ground while it thrashed around. Feeling like he was sitting on some kind of slowly deflating air mattress from hell. When the blood went from flowing and spurting to just a slow ooze, they knew the job was done. The heartbeat had stopped. Another big clue it was finally dead was its head stopped straining back against Kyler’s grip. Stripping off their work gloves and throwing them to the ground they continued the trek back to the fire station.
Chapter 7: Hurry Up and Wait
Gonzalez stood in the control tower watching black smoke billow up into the sky. His men had managed to set not just one, but two gas stations on fire. That meant there was a lot of smoke. There’d been a couple of decent explosions as well. Not to mention the random bullets going off from where they’d left ammunition sitting around the locations knowing as the fire spread the bullets would eventually go off. As a distraction it was extremely well executed. They probably couldn’t have come up with anything better even if they’d had plenty of time to plan and scout the area.
The problem may turn out to be that it’d worked too well. It was still early in the day, but the fires showed no signs of slowing. The streams of Zombies running towards the noise didn’t seem to be getting any smaller either. If too many Zombies decided to show up and check out the noise, then that could cause a while other set of issues. Those streams may just flood the area enough that there’d be Zombies backing up into the airport again. If the flooding didn’t screw them over then the Zombie activity still might keep them from getting a window to actually move the prisoners from the Red Lobster over to the airfield.
Gonzalez had the radio on in the hopes that he’d get some sort of reprieve. It wasn’t like air travel was all that reliable post apocalypse. There was only one local pilot he knew of and that guy was constantly flying missions all over Florida. They had a few others sitting with him on the flights so he could get them trained up, but it wasn’t like anyone wanted to trust those guys quite yet. Gonzalez thought that relocating a family of prisoners up to Georgia couldn’t possibly be at the top of the list of priorities. Unless the Senator himself had indicated if they didn’t make it up there then heads would roll down here.
That kind of threat was taken very literally in the new normal. The regional commander would make sure anything that might cause him to lose his position or his head was a top priority. No matter the waste of resources in a time of extremely scarce resources. It was stupid but the Senator had managed to bring back the stupid. He’d also brought back some semblance of order and had a plan for the future. Gonzalez wasn’t sure he agreed with the plan or even really understood it, but he was happy with being a part of it. He was scared for his families lives but he was also proud his skills were able to put them in an environment that would be the envy of ninety percent of the people on the planet today.
In the sunlight he’d figured out where the roof of the Red Lobster was. He couldn’t see the streets between the tower and the restaurant as they were blocked by buildings, but he could see enough Zombies going that way to know it wasn’t safe yet to move the prisoners. He was hoping it’d be safe by that evening. He wasn’t blind to the irony that he was losing men to keep prisoners safe who would be executed as soon as they got them to their destination. He decided not to think too much about that as it seemed like it might be the first step on a path to madness and he’d left the tequila behind.
Unable to rest and needing to do something he picked up the radio and pressed the send key.
“Z-Killer One this is Z-Killer Actual. How do you read? Over.”
“Z-Killer Actual this is Z-Killer one. Hear you loud and clear. Over.” The response came back within seconds. That meant they were doing what they were supposed to be doing. Gonzalez hit the send button again.
“Status the patrol that went out to hit the stations. Over.”
“MIA as of now. They haven’t reported back in. Probably hunkered down in some hiding space waiting for the herd to clear out. Over.” Came back the response. It made sense. After they blew up the first station then moved to the second there would’ve been no way for them to make it back to the restaurant. They’d probably picked out a hiding spot before they even started working on blowing up the first station. It’s what Gonzalez would’ve told them to do. It meant he had less men now to guard the family and transport them over to the tower. He hit send again.
“10-4 Z-Killer One. Stand by for instructions. Let me know if they do show up prior. Over.” Gonzalez put the mic in the slot that held it on the radio after hearing the crew at the Red lobster acknowledge his order. There wasn’t much to do now but wait for darkness and hope the Zombies stopped coming by then. If they hadn’t then they were screwed.
The sunlight was starting to fade away which should’ve made the mission easier. Unfortunately, the gas stations were still burning merrily away. Which meant they still had a steady stream of Zombies wandering over to see what was going on. In addition to attracting Zombies like moths to a flame something kept exploding periodically as it burnt making super loud noises that were attracting even more Zombies. Sitting there thinking how screwed they were Gonzalez jumped again when the radio squawked on.
This time it was command calling. Gonzalez answered and told them his status when asked.
“Z herd has been drawn to another location. Still a lot of Z activity around the airport. Advise wait until morning for another status check before attempting a landing.” Rodriguez went ahead and gave an honest situation report and waited for the repercussions. He was too stressed and hungover to try and come up with a good lie. Command acknowledged and told him after a short delay that they would check back in on the situation in the morning. Rodriguez acknowledged as neutrally as possible. Inside he was doing backflips. He’d half expected them to insist he somehow magically lure the Zombies away. Like he was some kind of Zombie pied piper.
He hopped on the walkie and let his team know they had a reprieve. There was still no sign of the two men who’d gone out to rig the gas stations. When they did show up Rodriguez was going to have a talk with them about overachieving. The night sky looked like videos he’d seen of oil wells burning during the gulf war. How those two had figured out to do that was beyond him. One of the men who’d gone out was a qualified airplane mechanic so he may have been able to rig something.
With nothing he could accomplish in the meanwhile Rodriguez found a couch in the break area and dragged it into the control tower close to the radio. He’d been worried he’d unplug something important if he tried moving the whole contraption into the break room. Still stressed beyond belief he closed his eyes to get some sleep. It was going to be an early and chaotic morning.
Chapter 8: Delay of Game
Kyler and Rodriguez collapsed into the cots they’d been given. They’d made it back to base without running into any more issues. Which was a good thing since they were both exhausted. Rodriguez had completely opened up the wound on his posterior again. Kyler felt it went well beyond the bounds of their strained friendship for him to have to be constantly nursing the man’s butt. Regardless he’d cleaned the wound and slapped new antibiotic cream and bandages on it. He’d done it a
ll ignoring Rodriguez’s sarcastic comments and really hoping no one opened the door and walked in on them. Especially since Rodriguez kept saying he was going to declare his love loudly if he heard the door open.
Wiping the sticky lotion off his hands he used a copious amount of hand sanitizer on himself before crawling into his own rack for the night. He’d made a note to himself to replenish his first aid supplies. He wanted to make sure he snagged a lot of those rubber gloves the doctors wore when they had to do gross stuff like rub antibiotic on some dude’s hairy ass. He’d rather apply mascara to a Zombie than be forced to stare at Rodriguez dropping his pants again.
“You know you’re going to be sad when my butt heals, and you don’t get to rub it anymore.” Rodriguez called out from his cot across the room.
“It’s weird how you can zero in on exactly what I’m thinking. It’s like you’re some kind of psychic or something.”
“More like psychotic. I just hope they don’t make us go police the damn highway again tomorrow. I don’t feel like scraping up any more Zombie pancakes. I wonder if the pilot can just like parachute the prisoners down to us?” Rodriguez replied.
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