The Reckoning - 02

by D. A. Roberts

  I held my breath as I watched knowing that if they found us, we wouldn’t have many places to run to. None of my gear was packed and most of it was still wet. I just watched and hoped for the best. Just as they were reaching my mailbox, a cat darted out of a drain. It ran across the street and disappeared behind a house. The zombies turned in unison and headed off after the cat. I still held my breath until they were out of sight.

  “Damn, boy,” I whispered. “That was close.”

  Odin just looked at me and padded back into the bedroom. With another glance out the peep-hole, I turned and followed after him. Placing my weapons in easy reach and laying the big Army Colt next to me on the bed, I lay down and pulled up the covers. I could smell my wife’s perfume on the sheets. I closed my eyes and, just for a moment, everything was back to normal. I could almost feel her next to me, there in the darkness.

  Without thinking, I turned to put my arm around her and the illusion faded away as my hand fell on the cold steel of the Colt. Right then, I felt more alone than I ever had in my entire life. I wanted to scream, to cry or to curse but I couldn’t risk the noise. Instead, I moved the pistol and patted the bed with my hand.

  “Come here, boy,” I whispered.

  Odin was never one to pass up a chance to sleep on the furniture. It was a habit we usually tried to discourage, but this was an exception. He hopped up onto the bed and lay down. It wasn’t Karen, but at least I didn’t feel alone, anymore. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep, after that.

  19 April

  I awoke when sunlight started creeping in through the window. I knew from experience that it was around 0630. I didn’t want to get out of bed, but I knew I had to. I planned on being back inside the jail before nightfall and I had a lot of ground to cover in order to get there. The bad part was it was ground that was literally crawling with the undead. I was going to have to walk into the heart of downtown Springfield and the thought was almost enough to make me give in to despair.

  I took a deep breath and shook it off. Then I started packing my gear. The armor and equipment were dry so I put it all back on along with the clean uniform. My feet had healed into good calluses, so I slipped on two pair of fresh socks and put my tactical boots back on. Once all my gear was back in place and my rucksack was packed, I headed into the kitchen. I got out the sandwich bags and made four more peanut butter and honey sandwiches. Then I bagged them and put them in my pack, along with the rest of the peanut butter and honey. The last six beers went in there, too.

  Moving the barricade from the sliding glass door, I checked the area and slipped outside. Odin followed right behind me. I watched his reaction, but he merely found a spot to relieve himself and ignored me. Quietly, I shut the door behind me and moved our deck chairs in front of the door, to dissuade any zombies who might wander by.

  Glancing carefully around the corner, I checked to make sure the front of the house was clear before moving to the gate. Odin followed after me, sniffing the air and alert for signs of danger. Shutting the gate behind me, I moved off along the front of the house. Cautiously, I crept from house to house, staying below the windows in case a zombie was inside. I kept an eye out for houses that looked like they might have survivors, but I didn’t see anything that stood out.

  When I reached the end of the block, I crossed the street in a crouch and took cover up against the last house on that side of the street. After peeking around the corner, I headed north down the side street. I played a tense game of duck and cover for the next few blocks, until I reached Battlefield Road. I could see zombies in the distance, but nothing close to me.

  Keeping between cars and staying low, we made our way across the street and slipped into the empty field on the other side. I crawled through the fence and headed towards the tree line at the far side of the field. From there, we turned west to avoid an apartment complex and a neighborhood. Passing through the grounds around a middle school, we picked up the Greenways trail again.

  Once on the trail, it would be hard to see us from any road or houses. I could take that all the way to the park named after Nathanael Greene, who gave the county its name. After that, the Greenways Trail went into a residential area and it would be impossible to use it from there. I’d be too exposed and wouldn’t make it a hundred yards without being seen.

  As we jogged along at a good pace, I had to stop short at a bend in the trail. Just ahead was what appeared to be a Shambler. Experience had taught me that looks could be deceiving. It could be a Shambler, a Sprinter, or worse. It might be a Shrieker. I could handle one Shambler or Sprinter. But a Shrieker would have every zombie for a mile down on me if I didn’t shut it down, fast.

  I didn’t dare shoot the thing. That would be almost as bad as a scream. I had to use stealth in order to take it out quietly. Slinging my rifle over my shoulder, I pulled out my hammer and slipped the thong around my wrist. Then I picked up a rock and threw it past the zombie and into the bushes. Immediately, it turned and began to shuffle towards the sound. With its concentration focused away from me, I moved up behind it and struck it in the back of the head. It fell without a sound.

  I’m not sure why I did, but I rolled it over. I was shocked to see the face of Ted Frazier, a local celebrity of sorts. He’d been a local news sports caster for as long as I could remember. I almost felt bad for putting him down. Then I remembered that he was a zombie now and I couldn’t afford to feel pity for the dead. It would make me hesitate and that would make me dead, or worse.

  Moving off, we crossed under the bridge at Golden and continued east. When I saw the golf course up ahead, I decided to cut across it to avoid the park. It was a decision that saved my life. When we reached the clubhouse for the golf course, I could see into the park. There had to be a couple hundred zombies in the park. They were milling around, chasing what appeared to be ducklings or goslings.

  Not wanting to pass up the distraction, I headed off across the golf course. I was careful to stay low and to avoid the roads. I was about to head back east, when I remembered the County Cruiser we’d left parked at the strip club where we’d rescued Cassie Bennett and the other women. I checked my pocket and discovered I still had a set of cruiser keys. All of the Chargers were keyed to use the same key, for emergencies. I definitely felt that this qualified as one, so I changed course.

  It took me two hours of hiding behind houses and trashcans, but we made it to within sight of the strip club. I was looking at the back of the building from a hidden spot in the backyard of a small brick house. The privacy fence was all that stood in our way. I couldn’t climb it with all the gear on and I certainly couldn’t lift Odin over it. I was going to have to make a hole.

  Peeking into the parking lot, I checked for zombies in the area. When I didn’t see one, I started working on the boards in the fence. I could easily knock them out with the hammer, but that would make a lot of noise. I had to do it by hand, slowly and quietly. It took me fifteen nerve wracking minutes, but I finally worked three boards loose. It was enough for us to slip through.

  Once we made it, I watched Odin’s reaction. His ears were up and he seemed nervous, but not growling. I took this to mean that there were zombies nearby, but not an immediate threat. Creeping around to the front of the building, I saw that the two idiots we’d shot before had been eaten down practically to skeletons. I couldn’t tell them apart, now.

  Crouching low, I headed for the Charger. I opened the driver’s door and let Odin get in first. Glancing behind me, I saw six zombies emerging from the front of the strip club. Yanking off my pack, I tossed it in and dove inside. I slammed the door and hit the lock button, then began scrambling for the key. The zombies were crawling over the barricade of cars trying to get to me as I slid the key into the ignition. I closed my eyes and whispered a silent prayer that it would start.

  Just as I started turning the key, the zombies were on us. They began slapping the windows and pawing at the door handles. The engine turned over then fired to life. The big he
mi-engine idled like a purring tiger and I slid the gear lever into reverse. Careful to avoid other cars, I backed up as fast as I dared. The zombies had little trouble keeping up with me.

  “Just freakin’ great,” I muttered. “They’re all Sprinters!”

  I spun the wheel to the left and swung the front end around, then slid it into drive. I had to crush one of them to get clear, but I didn’t waste my chance. Once I was out onto the road, I punched the accelerator and shot off down the street. We’d come this way with the jail bus, so I knew the path back to the jail was clear. We were almost home free.

  We left the remaining Sprinters well in our dust. Fifteen minutes later, I was approaching the back of the jail. I grabbed the mic on the car’s radio to call Master Control, but the scum-bags at the strip club must have ripped it out when they took Cassie Bennett. I had no way of contacting Master Control to have them open the gate.

  As I rounded the corner to head into the back of the jail, I saw that the intake gate was open and there were three Humvees inside it. There were also nearly fifty zombies. I couldn’t go in that way. I put the car in reverse and backed down the road to the delivery gate. It was shut and it looked like the Fed Ex truck we’d appropriated was parked against it on the inside. That was fine with me. That meant that the delivery area was clear.

  I pulled up to the gate and turned the vehicle so that the passenger door was towards the fence. I took a quick glance around to check for threats. There were zombies about fifty yards away, slowly shambling towards us. I decided to risk it. Shutting off the engine, I grabbed my backpack and climbed out of the car. Odin was right behind me. Then I climbed up on top of the car.

  Odin figured out what I was doing and put his paws up on the top of the fence. I had to boost him up and he jumped over onto the roof of the Fed Ex truck. Then it was my turn. It took some doing, but I managed to scramble over and onto the truck. I was a little concerned that a zombie might be able to repeat the process, but with the intake gate overran we had bigger problems. Once we were secure we could move the truck, open the gate and bring the Charger inside the fence.

  I slipped down from the hood of the truck and onto the ground. Odin followed me down, his claws digging gouges in the paint. Once back on the ground, he walked around favoring his right front paw. The jump must have hurt him. Kneeling down, I checked his paw.

  “You ok, boy?”

  By way of response, he licked my face. Not finding anything that felt broken or cut, I let go of his paw. He continued to favor it, but it didn’t seem to be causing him a great deal of pain. It would have to do for now.

  “I know, boy,” I soothed. “We’re both hurting from this trip.”

  I headed towards the back door. That was when I realized that the generator wasn’t running. There should have been an officer on the roof if the generator was off, but there wasn’t. Alarm bells began to sound in my head. Something was definitely wrong here and I intended to find out what it was.

  Moving up to the delivery door, I considered pressing the intercom button. I decided against it because with the generator off, it wouldn’t work. I was wondering how I was going to get inside when I remembered the emergency keys I’d taken from Reception on the first day. Quickly, I dug them out of the side pouch on my rucksack. The large brass keys jangled in my hands as I fumbled for the right one to open the back door. When I finally found it, I keyed the door and we slipped inside.

  Beyond was a short hallway with another set of doors that opened into the main corridor and the kitchen. It was dark inside, but there was enough light filtering in through the windows on the doors behind me that I could see fairly well. I froze when I saw movement in the window on the inner door. I was looking into the face of a zombie. What made matters worse was that I knew him. It was Marty Cooper.

  Marty Cooper was a friend of mine. The problem was that Marty Cooper was alive and well when I left. How did he get turned into a zombie inside a secure facility? There was definitely something wrong here. I knew that in order to find out, I was going to have to remain unknown until I figured things out. My heart nearly sank into my stomach when I considered the possibility that the entire facility had been overran.

  Taking out my hammer, I secured the wrist-thong and hefted the weight. Then I keyed open the door and jumped back. Marty lunged through, dragging one mangled foot behind him. Part of his leg had been chewed away and he’d been shot in the thigh.

  “What the fuck happened to you, Marty?” I whispered.

  In lieu of an answer, he continued to come right at me. In one swift motion, I stepped forward and struck him in the forehead. With a sickening crunch, Marty Cooper went over backwards, never to rise again.

  “Goodbye, Marty,” I whispered.

  I didn’t have time to mourn him for long, because two more came through the door behind him. As the nearest one reached for me, I grabbed its extended arm with my left hand and yanked it to the side. When it stumbled, I struck it in the side of the head with the hammer. It fell beside Marty. The third one was so intent on me that he didn’t see Odin. One hundred and thirty pounds of muscle and teeth slammed into the zombie from behind, taking it to the floor.

  Odin didn’t seem to want to get the taste of it in his mouth, so instead of biting it, he just bore it to the ground with his weight. The zombie made no attempt to break its fall and it collided with the floor with a sound like cracking a large egg. It twitched on the floor, but didn’t seem to be trying to get up. I slammed the hammer into the back of its head, just to be sure.

  Taking my flashlight in my left hand and keeping the hammer in my right, I moved out into the main corridor. The kitchen door was locked, but there were three more zombies in the main corridor. They were already shambling in my direction. One of them lurched forward with frightening speed when it saw me. I barely had time to react before it was on me.

  I spun the hammer up and over my head, bringing it around in an upper-cut. The heavy hammer struck the Sprinter in the jaw, propelling it over backwards. It hit the ground and slid past me, before coming to a stop against the wall behind me. It was still moving, so I finished it with a quick shot to the temple.

  Odin barreled into the legs of the next nearest zombie and took it to the floor. He didn’t stop to wrestle with it, but continued on past. Before it could get up, I ran up and kicked it in the face, knocking it over onto its stomach. A rapid love-tap to the base of the skull dispatched that one to the next world. The last one was turning to go after Odin when I caught up with it. It saw me at the last second and started to turn. I drove the hammer head into its left eye, exploding the orb like a zit and crushing the skull beneath. It fell in a heap at my feet.

  Shining the flashlight around, I didn’t see any more zombies in the main corridor. I headed into the administration offices, but was glad to find them empty. Then I moved off towards Reception. There were at least a dozen zombies there. It looked like they’d come in through the side offices, not through the main doors. Figuring they were contained for the moment, I headed back out to the main corridor. I slipped into the break room and cleared it. I only found one zombie inside. It was wearing patrol grey. I didn’t know him. He must have come in while I was gone. He fell with a blow from the hammer, as well.

  “Well, it’s not exactly Mjolnir,” I mused, “but it is laying down the thunder.”

  Odin looked at me and sneezed, spraying the corpse with dog snot. Then he shook his head, sending twin slobber trails to the floor on either side of him.

  “Everybody’s a critic,” I said, scratching his ears.

  I reached down and removed the badge from the zombie’s chest and slipped it into my pack. Then I turned and headed back into the hallway. I paused at the Main Sliders and listened for movement on the other side. All I saw through the windows was darkness. Fumbling for the key, I unlocked the outer door. I did it slowly, to minimize the noise. Then I slid the door open far enough for Odin and myself to slip inside.

  I relocked th
e door to keep any zombies from getting behind me. Crouching at the inner door, I listened for sounds of movement. I could just make out light coming from down towards Booking. There were windows down there, so it was possible it was daylight. I hesitated before opening the inner door. I prayed I wasn’t about to lock myself inside with a building full of zombies.

  Ever so slowly, I keyed the inner door. The lock clicked open and I hesitated, almost holding my breath. I heard voices from down the Booking hallway. I recognized one of them. It was Sonny Keller, from Patrol. He was one of Wright’s cronies. That wasn’t good news. I knew Keller. He was another one of the young breed that came out of the academy and went straight to Patrol. He had no respect for jail staff in any way, shape, or form. It was a sentiment shared by most of the new generation of Patrol Deputies.

  “What the fuck was that?” said Keller.

  “I don’t know,” said another male voice. “It was probably just one of those jailer assholes banging on their cell door.”

  My blood began to boil. If they were saying what I thought they were, then they had seized control of the facility and locked all the jail staff in a pod. Probably with all the civilians we’d rescued, as well. My vision almost went red at the thought of them locking my wife and kids in a cell like a common criminal, just because they were with the jail staff.

  I knew that Deputy Wright hated the thought of working with Corrections Staff and had threatened to take over. She only had about half a dozen deputies loyal to her. That meant that I only had to worry about six or seven officers. Less if you counted the zombie I’d just dropped in the break room. I’d faced longer odds just getting here. It was time to free my people and time for a long-overdue reckoning between Deputy Wright and myself.