by Jamie Marks
Where the fuck are they?
“Just wait a second, guys,” Tyler said as he walked cautiously around to the far side of the Humvee.
“Stop right there, Captain,” said Williams, “you don’t want to step in that.”
Tyler paused and then replaced his night-vision goggles and saw at his feet the remains of someone less fortunate than him.
“Captain.”
Tyler looked up at Williams who was pointing at a nearby vehicle.
“I think we have a hostile... that vehicle over there,” Williams said, while still pointing ahead.
“Great,” Tyler said as he drew his SIG P226 and circled around to the front of the vehicle, holding his gun in both hands. Tyler approached the driver’s side door, but he could barely see inside even with the aid of night-vision goggles, the damn windows were too heavily tinted. Shit...
“On the count of three,” he said to himself. “One...two...”
Tyler flung the driver-side door wide open to see an obese man feasting on the remains of a corpse. The Dead man turned in Tyler’s direction and began to snarl like a big cat protecting its kill.
Tyler holstered his gun. “Williams, throw me a spade.”
“Huh?”
“An entrenching tool, a spade --- throw me one.”
As Tyler spoke, Anderson came alongside him, his assault rifle at the ready.
“Don’t shoot...” Tyler warned him.
“I got it,” Anderson answered only seconds before the morbidly obese thing lurched toward them both. The sudden movement startled Anderson, who stepped backwards, knocking him into Tyler, who fell to the ground bringing Anderson with him, but not before Anderson accidentally squeezed the trigger of his rifle --- the shot popping the Dead man’s head like a helium balloon.
“Jesus Christ!” Tyler said as he lay on the ground.
“It came at us,” Anderson said in his own defense.
“The fucking thing was dead and morbidly obese. God only knows how slow it was when it was alive, let alone deceased.” Tyler looked away from the corpse. “Unless the next Dead thing moves like Usain Bolt, don’t fucking shoot!”
“Sorry,” Anderson said.
“Don’t apologise to me, apologise to everyone for putting their lives in jeopardy,” Tyler said as he checked the gas pumps. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Anderson.
“The pumps are down. I’ll look for a generator.”
Now feeling the pressure of time, Tyler trotted toward the glass entrance of the gas station.
The two glass sliding doors were open to either side, ready for business.
Lieutenant Anderson walked back to the other vehicles, the chewing out he had received still ringing in his ears. He’d fucked up, he knew that. He didn’t need Tyler ramming it up his ass; he didn’t deserve that. No fucking way. He tripped me. I wouldn’t have fired a shot if he hadn’t been in the fucking way. Fucking prick, maybe Susan had a point? She’d warned him about Tyler back when they were on the base, where he had gotten to know her better. The man’s a screw up and blames everyone else. How else did he end up here in Forest Park? And this, this is a bad idea. It’s obvious it’s a dreadful idea. We should just keep going; we should have gotten outside of town first, clear of these fucking things and fuel up then. It was worth the risk. We have enough fuel for now.
“He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, Lieutenant. It’s not right what he did,” Susan said.
Lieutenant Anderson smiled at her. “I know.”
“How’s it all going?” Cook asked Anderson as he climbed out of the Humvee after hearing the argument.
“How do you think?” Anderson said. “He had no right to say what he did.”
“People in command see things differently to their subordinates,” Cook answered.
“And who was that meant as an excuse for?”
“Pressure gets to everyone,” Cook said, ignoring Anderson’s attempts to draw him into a discussion they didn’t have the time to have.
“I’m trained for it. The pressure, I cope with it fine.”
“I’m trained for it too,” Cook said, “but pressure has a way of creeping up on you.”
“I don’t have time for this, Officer Cook; I have things to do, vehicles to move. Even so, don’t worry, even with all the pressure, I’ll still protect you,” Anderson said.
“That’s not what I meant when I asked you how---”
“Damn what you meant,” Anderson said as he walked away.
“That asshole doesn’t give a fuck about us, Officer Cook.”
It was Susan.
“I wouldn’t bother with the officer part. I have a feeling that the Forest Park police department is permanently closed for business.”
“And whose fault is that?” she said.
“What’s your problem, Susan?” Cook asked. “You must stop continuing to say the things you’re saying. It’s not helping anyone. Getting people on opposite sides won’t help the situation any.”
“I’m not getting people to choose sides, and I don’t just have the problem; we all have the same problem. And that problem is Tyler. Only moments before, Anderson saved his life, and for what? So he could be on the receiving end of a stream of abuse.”
As Susan spoke, Cook noticed her forehead was weeping blood.
“Are you okay, Susan?”
“Am I okay?” she said. “I’m fine, how about you?”
“Sorry,” Cook answered, “this is not about me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Susan said. “It’s about all of us.”
“I think you should lie down and relax, Susan. I’ll sort the food and drink out,” Cook offered.
Susan glanced over to Anderson as Cook was speaking to her. Tyler had no right, no right at all to speak to him like that.
“Concussion, I’ve seen it before, and it won’t be long...”
“What?” Susan said, her mind suddenly coming back into focus.
“I said it won’t be long until...” Before Cook could finish speaking, Susan had turned and walked away as if they had not been in the middle of a conversation at all.
We have a problem here, Cook thought, “and as soon as Tyler gets back, I’ll tell him so.”
TYLER STEPPED INSIDE
The gas station’s store was close to empty, excluding a few discarded magazines and newspapers that littered the floor. The mystery of what happened to the people remained, but the signs of where some had been at one time were everywhere. Most of the shelves were either empty or in disarray. The doors to the refrigerators had been left wide open, leaving only a few soda cans scattered on the floor.
The place had a feel to it, as if people had abandoned it long ago, long before the Dead begun to walk. It seemed stale, even the air was tasteless. He had a feeling that people didn’t belong there anymore. We need to fuel up and get out of here! This place is dead.
Tyler made his way over to the main counter, peeked over the top, and saw nothing, nothing hiding and waiting to jump out, anyhow. Looking up, he saw that the shelves that would normally hold the cigarettes were near empty.
He walked around the side of the counter and reached for one of the remaining packets.
If there ever was a time to take up smoking, then this is it, he thought as he pocketed a lighter as well. “Welcome to the new world, a world where smoking is the least dangerous of things that can kill you.”
Taking some time to himself --- though it was in relatively short supply --- Tyler looked outside and saw what remained of his command.
A lieutenant who was out of his depths, a sergeant with a head injury and clearly hurting over the loss of his men, a police officer without a department to call home and a fat guy who according to Anderson, could speak Klingon. “Fucking brilliant!”
Not to mention that woman, who he watched converse with Cook until their conversation ended abruptly.
STAFF ONLY
Tyler attempted to open the door marked Staff Only
, but found the door locked.
In one motion, he held the doorknob, and then firmly jammed his shoulder into the door. It cracked a little. He tried again; it had begun to give way. With one more distinctly heavier shove, he forced it open.
The room was near empty, except for a mop and bucket in the corner and some coats hanging on a set of stubby wooden hooks. Across from where he stood, was another door with a sign that said SWITCHBOARD and DANGER.
Thinking it locked, he gripped the door handle tightly, but to his surprise, it opened easily.
Some good luck for a change.
There was no generator.
“Damn.”
He then saw another door: EXIT.
“What the hell?” he said to himself and stepped outside.
At the rear of the gas station was a narrow alleyway.
To one side was a large bin, and on the other side was a long wall that ran down to another door.
It could be the generator room.
He had nothing to lose.
Raising his M16A4 to his shoulder, he moved along the wall in a slight crouch. The alleyway looked clear but old habits die hard.
As Tyler moved toward the other door at the far end, he missed a darkened figure slip through the open doorway behind him, and into the Gas Station.
Susan stood inside the gas station door, and glanced about her with the torchlight. Hardly any decent food remained; crisps aren’t really a food.
“So I’ve been reduced to Clark bars and soda?” she said to herself. “This day isn’t getting any better.”
As she waved the torch around some more, she saw that the fridges were left open. So she couldn’t even get a cold drink, forgetting about the lack of power, which she wanted so badly.
Then the thought began to cross her mind that maybe she should carry her gun, her new gun.
She had to protect herself regardless of what the others had said. Every man I have ever known has been a liar and a cheat. I’ll trust in me from here on in. I’ll believe in Susan Shaw, she thought as she felt for her Colt, hidden in her bag; she touched it with the tips of her fingers. We’ll play soon. I promise.
When Susan reached the front counter, she checked the register. It was empty, but she found some gum, which was a win in itself.
She opened the packet and popped a piece in her mouth. It was nice being alone for a while, nobody jabbering away in her ear. Maybe this wasn’t so bad at all; a girl could make a fresh start here. It’s a new world.
Under the counter were some boxes of plastic bags and another box with some more environmentally friendly options.
Being a campaigner for environmental change, Susan chose the eco-friendly carry bags, even though they didn’t seem as large as the others. Protecting the environment was a twenty-four-seven commitment, the planet couldn’t save itself. Susan Shaw wasn’t going to abandon her principles just because the world had undergone some changes.
Not that anyone would thank her.
It had always disappointed her when most people didn’t see her good side, the side of her that chose the eco-friendly bags, and who looked after losers like Charlie --- he’d be lost without me.
After popping some more gum into her mouth, Susan sauntered down the aisles containing the remaining food and other products. Pasta without any sauce, no coffee --- not even any hand cream.
“Okay then...” she said to herself. “This is the worst shopping experience I have ever had. No fruit, no yoghurt, no muesli, no bottled water.”
However, there were some diet sodas and regular. “I think I’ll take the diet, otherwise all that sweetness will go straight to my ass...”
Then out of the corner of her eye, Susan saw the shadows move. Her heart skipped a beat as she stepped backward. A thousand different scenarios suddenly ran through her head as she dropped her shopping and the torch to the ground. Forgetting her gun, she was about to scream. Then the shadow spoke.
“Susan, is there anything I can help you with?”
“Lieutenant, you startled me, don’t you have any soldiering to do?” she said with relief. Susan gave him a smile, and did her best not to look too startled.
“I sneaked in through the back door. I nearly ran into the captain, but I have the skills to give him the slip,” he said.
“Shouldn’t you be outside protecting the settler’s wagons?” she asked him. “And not in here, spying on me?” Susan was now a few feet away from him, but still further than she wanted, or needed.
“Williams is out there. Anyway we haven’t hooked up since...” he said as he placed his rifle on the counter.
“You don’t need to remind me,” she said as she leaned in and kissed him. “I enjoyed it too.”
Anderson placed his arms around her slender waist and pulled her closer to him. “I just thought that while we had a little time we could catch up...”
“Lieutenant, I didn’t know you were a romantic.”
Anderson’s hands moved down the sides of her body, deliberately taking in everything.
“Are you armed, Susan?”
She looked into his eyes. “Yes.”
“Good,” he answered before they kissed again. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, would we?”
“No, we wouldn’t, Lieutenant Anderson.”
It was the sudden explosion of sound.
From across the way, dead eyes now watched.
What they saw was a blur; it didn’t make much sense to them. The vehicles scarcely existed, they’re of no use; they only reflected back at them --- obstacles; that’s what they were, shadows like themselves, useless and without thought, shadows and reflections.
All of them, the Dead that watched from across the way, were pure hunger with a primordial thirst for what stood before them --- past the obstacles, the trouble, a taste --- raw and unpolluted, flesh and movement; people, something alive and roaming --- a lust.
“Oh, fuck!” No generator, No anything.
Tyler kicked the earth.
What now?
He stepped back out into the alley behind the service station.
“What now? Why can’t anything go my freaking way?”
Williams removed his night-vision goggles.
His eyes were stinging from sweat, and his head throbbed. He still couldn’t believe they were all gone, his boys, gone. He wasn’t even conscious while they died, they died without him. He felt useless, but most of all, he felt bitter.
Reaching down into the Humvee, he grabbed a water bottle and tipped it over his face.
“That’s better...” he said to himself quietly, he didn’t want to draw any attention. The last thing he needed was a conversation.
Dropping the bottle, he gave his face a vigorous massage. He was tired, totally beat.
I’ll just close my eyes for a second, he thought, just a second.
Moments later, he was asleep.
“How long do you think it will take to get the pumps running?” Charlie asked Cook.
“Who knows if they’ll get ’em running at all?”
“You think they won’t?”
“I don’t know. The way things are going, we might have to siphon some gas from the cars out on the road. It’s better than nothing.”
Charlie nodded in agreement.
“Charlie, is Susan all right?” Cook asked.
“She’s fine,” Charlie answered him without hesitation.
“How’s that head of hers going? It looks like it’s opening up again, she should have it bandaged.”
“Susan said she doesn’t like bandages; they mess with her hair, and if we need to go live...”
“I think the days of going live are gone to hell, buddy.”
“Yeah. I don’t wanna get her down though, she tries really hard.”
“You don’t mind the way she talks to you?” Cook asked.
The question was very personal, and he didn’t expect much of an answer.
Charlie laughed. “It’s just friends ribbing
each other; we’re a team,” he said, not really believing it himself.
He’s just as crazy as she is.
Anderson took a deliberate step away from Susan as he came to his senses. “Look, I’d better get out there,” Anderson said. “I really want this, and I want it now. I wish we were still on the base. We’d have all the time in the world together, like it was.”
“I do declare, Lieutenant Anderson, I think you have fallen for my womanly charms,” Susan said.
Anderson smiled.
“Before you go, Lieutenant!”
Anderson saw Tyler standing behind the counter.
“Any luck with your generator?” Susan asked.
Tyler didn’t look at her. “Not as yet. However, there’s always a solution.”
“Of course there is, Captain,” she replied, “you’d know.”
“Anderson, what’s the situation out front?” Tyler asked.
“No problems so far...” Anderson said. “It’s all under control. I only came inside to get Williams a drink; he’s really thirsty. It must be the head injury.”
“We’ve got water in the Humvee, use that next time.”
Susan rolled her eyes.
“What is your problem?” Susan asked Tyler.
Tyler stepped out from behind the counter.
“As of this moment, Miss Shaw, I have too many to list, and you’re only adding to the list.”
“So you’re going to blame everything on me?”
Tyler stepped closer to her. “Get over yourself and don’t interfere with my command.”
Susan laughed at him. “You do have some serious delusions of grandeur, don’t you, Captain? You don’t have a command any more. You abandoned it without a second’s thought,” she said.
Then seconds later, Lieutenant Anderson screamed, “WILLIAMS!”
The Dead felt drawn to the sounds which echoed through the silent night, the gun shot, engines, the sound of people talking and arguing; the sounds of life, sharp and erratic. Living souls had a sound like nothing else that surrounded the Dead; they had a color to them, a light which drew them to it, to life.
