He was about average height with blonde hair and glasses.
“Revolver or automatic?” I asked.
“Automatics,” he replied. “I never liked revolvers.”
I dug out one of the pistols that we’d taken and handed it to him. It was a Rock Island .45. I also handed him three extra magazines. He took them and stuck them in his pockets. The pistol went into his waistband. I handed both of the girls a few extra magazines for their rifles.
“OK, listen up,” I said. “I don’t want you using those unless I tell you to. No offense, but I don’t know how good a shot you are. I also don’t know you well enough to trust you behind me with a firearm. Just follow us and if we run into trouble, we’ll all have to be ready to fight.”
“Where’s the rest of your team?” asked the Native girl.
“We’re it,” I said. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll all introduce ourselves, later.”
We quickly checked the other room that had been guarded. Just as I suspected, it was where they were storing all of their weapons. There was hundreds of thousands of rounds of ammunition and boxes of explosives, plus dozens of missiles. It was the mother lode. As bad as I hated to do it, I instructed Ramirez to rig them to blow and time it as close to the other explosions as possible. He set to work immediately.
By the time he finished, we had organized the survivors into groups and assigned a fire team to escort them. I paired each of the armed kids with a Ranger. I knew that they would be safe with them, since they were the most experienced in combat operations. It was the best I could do, under the circumstances. It was better than nothing, I suppose.
We headed down the passage that the Freemen had been coming down. Spec-4 and I took point. After we’d gone about fifty yards, I started to see light. This wasn’t artificial light from the floodlights. I could tell what I was seeing was daylight. We were almost out of the cave.
When we reached the last bend in the tunnel, I could see the steel cage that the parks board had welded in place over the entrance to the cave to keep people out. Now it had the added effect of keeping zombies out, as well. There were four guards at the gate and we made short work of them. It was easier because they weren’t looking behind them. They were watching the entrance.
We quickly recovered their weapons and unlocked the gate. Ramirez planted his last charge on the gate, just to finish the job. Then we were out in the sunshine. I could tell by the position of the sun in the sky that it was going to be dark soon. There was a narrow ravine that ran to the mouth of the cave from a small pond. I recognized the area. We’d made it to Doling Park.
Just beyond the ravine were several parked vehicles. Two of them were what Sanders had dubbed “jingle trucks” and one was an old school bus. Then I saw something that made me smile. It was the Nathanael County Mobile Command Center. It was a modified motor coach that was equipped to run sheriff’s department operations from the field. It had a repeater for the radios, a generator and its own camera system. It wasn’t big enough to hold everyone, but between it and the school bus we could get everyone back to the Underground.
We split the people between the two vehicles and loaded up. I took the wheel of the mobile command center and Sergeant McDonald took the school bus. We fired up the engines and let them warm up for a moment. Spec-4 stood beside me and smiled.
“I thought that there would be more of them,” she said.
“I counted bedrolls for close to a hundred,” I said. “We got lucky. The majority of them were out on runs. If they had all been there, we’d have never made it out.”
“Do you think they’ll know it was us that hit them?” she asked, worried.
“Who else could it have been?” I replied. “They know we’re the only other group out there, so far as we know.”
I put the thing in gear and headed out of the park. I crashed through the makeshift fence that the Freemen had erected around most of the park to keep the zombies out. The school bus stayed right behind me as we headed south and away from the park. I knew I had one more stop to make before we returned to the Underground.
The sun was three fingers above the horizon and I knew that meant we had about three hours of daylight left. That would be plenty of time for what I had in mind. Sticking to the back streets, we returned to the campus of Central High School to reclaim our Humvee. When we passed the jail, I could see the extent of the damage from the bombing. It was a total loss. The entire building had collapsed under the onslaught.
Ramirez and Jackson grabbed the Humvee and led the way back to the Underground. We stuck to roads that we knew were clear and avoided any place we thought that the Freemen might be raiding. It was 1730 hours according to my watch when we rolled up to the gate. Minutes later, we rolled back into the shelter of the Underground and parked alongside the other vehicles.
We were met by a large crowd. Medical was going to have its hands full checking all of the new arrivals. When everyone was unloaded, I stopped long enough to grab a cup of coffee. Just as I was taking my first sip, Ramirez came over to me with a big smile on his face.
“What’s up?” I asked, as he approached.
“We might want to go up topside for a few minutes,” he said. “By my watch, the explosives should be going off in about five minutes.”
I headed up the ramp, with Spec-4 and the Rangers following me. We were all still wearing our combat gear. When we reached the top and could see the sky I turned to the North West, facing the park.
“It’s almost boom time,” I said, as the others gathered around me.
We watched as the sun sank lower in the sky. A few moments later, I heard the explosions and felt the ground shake slightly. The roar was somewhat muted for having been below ground, but grew louder when the missiles and ammunition cooked off. I only hoped that the Freemen had all been back inside when it happened.
“Do you think we got them all?” asked Spec-4.
“We’d better hope so,” I replied. “Otherwise, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
Chapter Twenty Two
The Devil’s Due
“But sure as night turns day, Ends the passion play
Oh my god what have they done
With madman's rage, well they dug our graves
But the dead rise again you fools.”
- Flogging Molly
- What’s Left of the Flag
It was full-on dark before we went back below ground for the night. I just wanted to be under the stars and take in some fresh air. I also wanted to take a walk up to the west side of the perimeter and take a peek at the interstate. Spec-4 and I walked along the inside of the fence, staying alert for any possible breaches or signs of zombies. I was happy to see we found neither. The crew had done well on reinforcing the fences.
The good news was that the explosion earlier had caused quite a few of the zombies on the interstate to head off towards the source of the noise. That was great, since it meant a few hundred less of the dead on our back doorstep. Anything that drew them away from us was great in my book. So long as the dead didn’t discover where we were at, things might actually stay relatively safe for us.
By the time we returned to the below ground entrance, I could smell food cooking. That suited me just fine. I was definitely hungry enough to eat almost anything. Well, anything that wasn’t an MRE, that is. Fortunately, MRE’s weren’t on the menu. They were grilling up burgers, hotdogs and steaks from the frozen section of the warehouse. Ordinarily we wouldn’t eat so extravagantly, but tonight we were celebrating the new arrivals.
I joined my kids at a table and my wife slid onto the bench next to me. It felt good to have a quiet family moment. The only strange part of it was that all of us were armed and with the exception of my wife, wearing body armor. The boys had taken to their new tasks with smiles on their faces. They had always been good about helping out around the house when we asked, but this was different. I was proud at the maturity that they were showing through all of this.
Karen still wasn’t happy that she was carrying a weapon, but she still had it on. Unfortunately, this was our reality now. The world was entirely too dangerous to walk around unarmed. Even without the dead, the Freemen were preying on people. There was an entire busload of survivors who could attest to that. If humanity was going to survive the zombie apocalypse, it was first going to have to survive itself.
The food was good and it felt great just enjoying the company. By the time I’d finished eating, even the new arrivals seemed relaxed. They were safe with us and they were starting to feel it. It would take time before some of them trusted anyone again, but that was completely understandable. The Freemen had made certain of that.
While the trash and dishes were being collected, Ramirez surprised the group by bringing out an old banged-up guitar and striking up a tune. It was one I wasn’t familiar with, but the rhythm was obviously Latin. It was sad and kind of uplifting at the same time. I could tell from the tune that it was an old song. The classical style was soothing to hear. Ramirez’s fingers flew like lightning up and down the neck of the guitar, playing amazingly well. It was just the kind of thing we needed.
When he finished, everyone cheered. Ramirez was grinning from ear to ear at the praise. He should be, though. He was damned good. When he turned towards me, I gave him a big smile and applauded him. He gave me a mock bow and a wink.
“Hey, Wylie,” he called. “What’s the name of that song you like so much? The one you sang at my Christmas party last year.”
I remembered the song and the party all too well. I hadn’t intended to sing it to the crowd. I merely had too much to drink and didn’t realize how loudly I was singing. I was almost finished before I realized everyone was listening to me. It was embarrassing, to say the least. My grandfather had taught it to me as a kid and would sing it to me before tucking me in at night. It was one of my favorites.
“What about it?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“I’ll play it if you’ll sing,” he replied, grinning.
My kids immediately started chanting, “Sing! Sing! Sing!”
Southard, Spec-4, Sanders and Gunny took up the chant. Reluctantly, I stood up and raised my hands in the air in surrender. A few people cheered and some clapped as I headed over to Ramirez. Gunny and Sanders both slapped me on the back as I passed by. Spec-4 just gave me a smile. Southard handed me a small cup of bourbon and I tossed it back with a sigh. With the added liquid courage, I was as ready as I was ever going to be.
“You sure you remember the tune?” I asked as I approached.
“No problem, mano,” he replied. “I downloaded the song the day after the party so I could learn it. It’s a pretty song.”
“OK, then,” I said, “let’s do it.”
The room fell silent as Ramirez began strumming his guitar in the old familiar tune. When he reached the right spot I joined in, doing my best to stay on key.
“Oh, Danny-boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling. From glen to glen and down the mountain side…”
I lost myself in the song. It held so many memories for me. There were memories of my grandfather, who passed when I was a small boy. Memories of my father, who never got to meet any of my sons. He died just before my oldest son was born. Then there were the memories of singing the song to my kids when they were small. I’d rock them to sleep singing it, or tucking them in at night.
When I finished singing, tears were flowing down my cheeks. To me, the song had come to symbolize all the good times in my life and reminded me of all that we had lost. Family, friends, homes, so much loss and death. Yet despite the loss, here we were together. United together in order to survive. It also symbolized the hope that I held for the future of my family. For the future of us all. Together, we will find a way to not only survive, but to build a new life.
The Underground was a good place to start, but we weren’t meant to live in caves. Our ancestors had given up caves millennia ago, and I had no intention of going back to living in one. Well, not for any longer than was absolutely necessary. We’d ride it out down here for a while, possibly until next spring, but eventually we were going to have to find someplace we could call our own.
When we returned to our quarters, Karen and I walked arm in arm like we had when we were young and dating. The boys just laughed at us, but I could tell they were happy. We were all still together, despite it all. We let the boys hit the shower first, while Karen helped me out of my armor. Even though I hadn’t been shot in a while, I still had lots of bruises, aches and pains.
Once the armor was off and my gear was stowed, we took our turn in the bathroom. We showered together for the first time in a long time. She massaged my shoulders and washed my back. I washed her, well, never mind what I did. By the time we emerged from the showers, I was freshly shaved and groomed. My goatee was getting a bit long, but it didn’t look bad. In fact, I thought it looked pretty good with the shaved head.
23 April
It felt like I had no sooner hit the pillows when I was brought out of a sound sleep by someone calling my name. It was dark in the room but then again, it’s always dark when you’re below ground. The light flickered on and Karen sat up beside me. She held the covers against her and I could see her naked back. Then I realized it hadn’t been her calling my name. It was Southard.
“Wylie,” he said, “sorry to bother you guys. There’s something going on. You’d better come take a look.”
“Give me a minute to get dressed,” I mumbled. “Where can I meet you?”
“Come to the Hive, ASAP,” he replied. “You might want to grab your gear.”
That woke me up in a hurry. Whatever was going on, it was serious. Once Southard left the room, I slipped out of our bed and started grabbing clothes. Karen had already laid out fresh clothes for me, for in the morning. I started slipping on the underwear and pants.
“Honey, what’s going on?” asked Karen, her voice thick with sleep.
“I’m not sure,” I replied, “but it’s bad enough that Southard woke me up at…”
I glanced at my watch.
“…a little after two in the morning.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked, letting the covers drop.
“No, babe,” I replied. “Get some sleep. You need to be here with the boys.”
I leaned over and kissed her and reluctantly pulled the covers back up. She lay back down and was asleep almost instantly. We’d only been asleep for less than three hours. I finished putting on a fresh black uniform. It felt good to be back in my Sheriff’s department blacks instead of the Army ACU’s. By the time I slipped my body armor back on, I was wide awake and starting to worry about what it could be.
I grabbed my weapons and quickly checked my ammo. Satisfied that I was loaded and ready to go, I shouldered my rucksack and headed out the door. I glanced back at Karen sleeping peacefully as I switched off the light and headed out of our quarters. Once outside, I could see there was quite a bit of activity going on inside the Underground, even at this hour.
I headed towards the Hive at a trot, quickly covering the distance. When I walked through the door, Josh handed me a cup of steaming coffee. I gladly accepted it, sipping as I followed him into the main security room. Several people were already gathered around the monitors. John Banner, Southard, Gunny, Spec-4 and Jade were sipping coffee of their own and looked up when I came into the room.
“Alright,” I said, “what the hell is going on?”
“I kept an eye on that guy you called Shades,” said John Banner, “just like you asked.”
“What did you find?” I said, dreading the answer.
“See for yourself,” said Gunny. “We waited for you to see what you wanted to do about it.”
On the monitor, I could see a figure crouched behind what I recognized as the guard shack at the top of the ramp. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but he was holding something up to his ear. It looked to me like he was on a phone or a…
�
�Radio!” I snapped. “The fucker’s on a radio.”
“Yeah,” said Josh. “I’ve been using my scanner to monitor him. He’s trying to reach the Freemen. So far, no one has responded to his calls.”
“I knew it,” I said, punching my right fist into my left palm.
“The question is,” said Spec-4, “what do we do about it?”
“We get up there and shut his ass down,” I replied. “We can’t afford a traitor in our midst.”
“What if he denies it?” asked Southard. “What proof do we have?”
“Quit thinking like a cop, Chuck,” I replied. “We’re not building a case for court. He got caught red-handed. Josh even heard him calling for them on the scanner. He can deny it all he wants, he’s still busted.”
“So what are we going to do with him?” asked Josh. “We can’t just shoot him.”
“Well technically, yes we can,” I replied. “It all depends on him.”
I took a long pull off of my coffee and picked up my M-4. Josh grabbed his own weapon and stood up to go with me. Spec-4 was right behind him.
“You sure you want to do this?” I asked Josh.
“I have to,” he said with determination. “He was one of mine. I need to be there when we confront him.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Let’s roll.”
The three of us headed out of the Hive and across the parking lot. I could have taken the Humvee up the ramp, but it was quieter to walk. Besides that, there’s no point in wasting fuel. We stuck to the shadows as we climbed the ramp to the main gate. As we reached the top of the ramp, I could see he was still where we’d seen him on camera. I motioned for the others to remain quiet as we approached him. There was a full moon out and it illuminated the area very well. It also left large pools of deep shadow to hide in.
We made it less than twenty yards when he stood up and put the radio back into his pocket. I recognized the type of radio. They were short-distance radios used mostly by backpackers and hunters. They didn’t have the power to broadcast more than a mile or so. He must have been expecting someone to be close enough to respond.
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