“Tru dat,” Vitarius grinned. “I wonder why we didn’t see many of them back in town, outside the airport. It was like rolling through a ghost town. What the hell were they doing all the way out here?”
“Maybe it was a cleanup effort. The surviving locals could have tossed all the bodies out here, rather than have them littering the streets, who knows? They could have just wandered off. I am not dead yet, so I can’t speak to what drives them,” she returned, trying not to think on it much. There was enough going on right now without trying to figure out something like that. They were driving into a firefight, her nerves were lit up, and she was stressing over whether or not to wait until the military showed up or try to take the place on her own.
Jenn leaned back and glanced out the back window. “If there were survivors, where are they now? Seems like a lot of effort just to walk away.”
“Why are you asking me? You know just as much as I do,” she snapped, feeling irritated, despite her best efforts.
“I’m just saying,” Jenn whispered solemnly.
John’s grip tightened on the wheel and the vehicle began to slow. “Well, shit. Guess we may find out anyhow.”
Monica glanced ahead and saw two old Chevy’s blocking the road, a man with a rifle standing proudly before it, unfazed by the approaching truck. He was middle-aged, had hardened features, and looked like the weapon was at home within his hands.
John slowed and came to a stop, keeping a healthy distance away from the man blocking their way forward. To either side were barbed wire fences and there was literally nothing else to do but turn around and go back. If they wanted the most direct route to the compounds, this was it. “Maybe you guys should stay here,” John stated, opening his door. Mark began rustling around in the back as well.
“Screw that, you two stay here, I’m going,” she told Vitarius and Jenn. “Don’t need to overly outnumber him, but I’m not letting you go out there alone,” she commented, nodding at John as she hopped out and walked around the front of the truck. “Hang back, watch out for them,” she ordered Mark, who had started to walk in their direction.
He paused, as if thinking it over, then finally nodded. “Fine, but if something happens to you, I’ll run his ass over.”
“If something happens to me, I won’t much care. Just don’t let me come back. And no matter what, get to that compound and make sure Sean is taken care of,” she returned, then glanced at John. “Okay.”
Together, they walked towards the trucks and the man waiting patiently before them.
“I’m sorry folks, you’ll have to turn around and go back the way you came. Nothing past here but a bunch of farmland and folks that don’t much care for visitors right now,” the man called as they approached.
“I’m sorry, old timer, but I’m afraid we don’t have much choice in the matter. We mean no harm to you and yours, we’re just passing through,” John answered, purposely keeping his hand clear of his holstered side-arm, the shotgun resting comfortably across his back.
The man grunted as they stopped ten feet from where he was posted. “Don’t care much what your intentions are. As I told you, nothing beyond here but a few farms and a dead end. Nowhere to pass through to.”
She looked at the surrounding countryside, then back down the road they traveled. There were large ruts in the road, like it had seen larger vehicles in the past, and she knew that Sean’s construction crews must have traversed through here on their way to the designated building site. “If you’re from around here, then you and I know that just ain’t true,” she grinned, trying to win him over through charm. “I’m betting you know exactly where it is we’re headed. Question is, why stop us from going there?”
The stranger snorted. “Mayhap I do, mayhap I don’t. Don’t reckon I’ll answer either way. Whatever you’re looking for, it’s no longer available to you.”
“Sir, I’m an officer of the law, and I’m asking you politely to move aside and let us pass,” John interjected before she could say anything further.
“Not the law around here. Though, I don’t reckon it would matter much even if you were,” the man grunted, clearly not impressed. “Why don’t you just get back up into your truck, and get a moving down the road. I’m sure you can find a place to hole up in one of the towns to the south. Last I heard, they were doin’ all right.”
She sighed, they really didn’t have time for this. “I’m going to take an educated guess here. Ya’ll know that some trucks came through some years ago bearing heavy construction equipment, something big was going in back in those hills. I’ll even venture further and say that you might have gone to see for yourself at some point and saw the walls of the place, but never could quite figure out what was inside. Then when all the shit hit the fan, ya’ll figured those walls would help protect you, keep you from getting swarmed by all the undead, am I right?”
“Lady, who the hell are you?” the man asked, his brow drawing together.
“I’m one of the people that helped design it,” she declared, straightening her shoulders.
The man’s eyes looked dubious, and only a stern glance from John made her words seem to stick. “Either way, it’s been—reallocated,” the stranger responded, trying to reassert his dominance over the conversation.
“Was that before or after you cleared it of the undead residing within?” John pushed, not giving an inch. “Because if it was after, you might want to get on that walkie you have on that dash and check in, make sure everything is okay.”
“Dead? How’d the dead get in there? Now I know you’re full of shit,” the other man blurted out, shaking his head.
John bit off his retort, took a deep breath and spread his arms, “would you just check in for me please? I may not be the law around here, but that doesn’t make me any less concerned with the well-being of those outside my jurisdiction.”
“Ray!” the man called over his shoulder. “Get on the walkie and call your Uncle Frank!”
A younger boy’s head poked up from the front seat of the Chevy on the right, peered out, then disappeared once more. A hand snaked up and snatched the walkie John had mentioned, and ripped it from sight.
“While we wait, you want to tell me what ya’ll are doing here? Why you think there was dead to deal with in this—compound—you help to build?” the man asked them, only sparing a quick glance to make sure the boy was doing what he was told, his finger itching over the trigger of his rifle.
“One of our people, the man that helped pay to build these things, has gone crazy and killed everyone that was staying in there. We watched it all happen from our place in Arizona. We came here to exact revenge for the people he killed,” she answered truthfully.
The older gentleman seemed confused, “man? What man? There weren’t anyone in there. Our families have been holed up in those houses ya’ll built. They haven’t said anything about actually seeing anyone.”
“Did they go into the bunker? The one that has underground levels?” she asked, fear stealing into her heart. Whole families were in there? What if someone went to check the main building? Could they be dead already?
“Dad! No one is answering!” the boy cried from the front seat.
The man’s indecisiveness was getting to him as he shifted from one foot to the other. “That don’t mean nothing.”
“Or it could mean everything. We are good people. Let us go with you to check it out. All we want is to take our friend with us, then we will leave. You can have the place and everything inside. We’ll head back to Arizona and you’ll never have to hear from us again,” John ventured, letting the authority of his former career take over his tone.
“Dad? What should I do?” the boy asked, waving the walkie at them through the window.
“God help us if you’re right,” the man gave in, his voice breaking.
She shook her head, “all circuits have been busy, no one is listening up there.”
Chapter 10
Intel
Jose
ph
Compound 2
“Have you heard from Todd?” Samantha asked, as he walked towards the Communications Room. She had emerged from the corner down the hall, probably on the way to the upper levels and the armory.
At least, he hoped that was where she was going, they all needed to get over to the other compound and had no time to waste just wandering about. He shook his head, “not since he called warning us that the military was inbound. They were fine and planning on heading back.”
“Heading back? When we are about to be attacked? Don’t you think you should warn them off?” she hissed, her voice rising. “I’ve already lost one husband to this frackin’ bullshit, I don’t want to lose another.”
Frackin’? What the hell was that? Wasn’t that what you did to get natural gas? “Todd already knows what he’s driving into; he’s the one that called to warn me about it,” he answered, as if it was self-evident and he was bored. He needed to get to coms and find out what was going on; time was running out. “You should go get a weapon, I’ll be up shortly and to tell everyone where to go.”
“You know what? I’ll call him myself,” Sam snarked as she turned, her magenta hair waving with the motion, and showed him her back.
He shook his head, “yeah, you do that.” He watched her go, then started forward once more. Todd had better not die out there, otherwise that woman would become unbearable.
Pushing through the door, he was greeted by the sounds of three teenagers in heated discussion. The two boys were sitting on the left, the lone girl on the right, and whatever they were arguing about abruptly stopped with the introduction of an adult. “I don’t know,” he remarked, raising his hands, “and I don’t care. I want to know what cameras have been disabled. Can you pull it up on a map?” There was a small chance that the camera disconnects were a decoy, an attempt to get them to look elsewhere from where the real attack will come, but somehow, he doubted these people were smart enough for actual tactics.
Zeke was sitting at the center keyboard. Others had been set up for the other two, but his mouse was moving before they had even turned away. “Here you go,” the young boy grinned, getting a snort from Caleb in return. “Shut up.”
“You shut up,” Caleb retorted.
“Enough,” he growled, leaning forward to look at the computer screens. A map showing the individual cameras was lit up on the screen and he looked at the red versus black icons, eyes tracing the route forward. “Looks like they’re going after Compound 1.”
Jessie nodded, “makes sense when you think about it. It has lower walls, it’s virtually unmanned, and that is where we get in and out, making it the weakest part.”
He glanced at the twelve-year-old with appreciation; there was a keen mind at work in there. He would have to remember that. “How can you be sure they are actually heading there, and not leading us away from guarding this compound instead?”
She looked at him as if he were nuts, “because they suck at hiding from the cameras otherwise. There’s about thirty of them, that we’ve seen. They are taking out cameras, sure, but only what they can see. Others still show where they are going. Unless there are more than that?” she finished curiously.
Shaking his head, he said, “we don’t really know, do we? I don’t want to send everyone there and then you kids find out they’re here. We might not make it back in time.”
“So send most of us there, and keep a few here just in case. There’s only thirty of them and we do have walls,” Caleb tossed in, getting a stern look from Jessie for interrupting.
“Yes, we have walls, but these are humans, not zombies, and they know how to use a ladder,” he corrected, seeing the boy slouch with the quick rebuttal.
Zeke brought the windows up on the other monitors and pointed, “we can watch them from here. If something happens, we’ll call and let you know. But I’m with Jessie, they are heading to the other compound.”
“Okay, I’ll go with that. The three of you stay here and watch those monitors. The instant—,” he broke off.
“We will let you know,” Jessie finished with a grin. “Got it boss.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not your boss.”
“Whatever you say boss,” Jessie returned with a wider smile.
Sighing, he turned from the three teenagers and made for the door. “I still say we should just shoot them in the stomach or something,” Zeke was saying. “No point going for headshots. Let their own people eat them all up.”
“Okay, that’s just gross,” Jessie remarked.
He had to disagree. There was actually something to that.
Closing the door, he walked quickly for the stairs that would take him to the upper levels, his thoughts racing. He had no choice, he would have to head to Compound 1 and hope that it wasn’t a mistake. Dialing on his phone, it rang once before someone picked up. “Casey, I need you to get down and head over to Compound 1. Get up in that tower and let me know if you see anything.”
“On it boss,” came the voice on the other end, followed by the sounds of bubbles.
“You’re doing that with a cop on the phone,” he said without thinking.
There was a high-pitched chuckle. “What cop?” Then Casey hung up.
Fucking stoner. “Why the hell are people suddenly calling me boss?” he growled, as he exited the staircase and headed towards the front doors.
“Talking to yourself again?” Roxanne asked, as she rounded a corner and nearly bumped into him. Her hair was teased up under her helmet and she carried an automatic like it belonged in her hands.
It was a sexy sight, but not one he could entertain; he wasn’t Todd. He believed there was one person you were meant to be with and no one else. Yet, he still hadn’t found that one. Maybe Sabrina—He shook his head and refocused on the moment. “I just don’t get why everyone’s treating me like I’m in charge. I’m not a leader.”
“Aren’t you, though?” she asked with a smile. “Who else is going to do it? Me? I’ve got a kid to look after. That’s more than enough for me. Having forty? No way, I’m good.”
Walking outside, he had to shield his eyes from the rising sun and tried to wipe the grimace off his face. Everyone had assembled as ordered and he had to appear calm and in control; their confidence depended on that. He had seen many cops over the years too shaken by what they’d done to continue on, and what he was asking these people to do, to fire on the living, was hard enough without his own doubts getting in the way.
“Okay, it appears like they are heading towards Compound 1. I hope that’s accurate, it’ll be a bitch if it ain’t, but we can’t afford to take a chance on being wrong either. Our transportation is over there, so is the extra fuel we need for the generators. Resources like that we can’t afford to lose. If we have to retreat, so be it, but I’m not giving that place up without a fight. So, five of you are going to stay behind and man the walls just in case. You can cover our asses if we end up on the run back this way,” he told them, wary looks upon their faces. “Make sure you grab one of those walkies from the armory, I want everyone on channel 14, but keep it clear. I don’t want to talk over you.”
He glanced at Roxanne and grimaced, “I forgot to tell the stoner to grab one, can you run one out to him?”
She chuckled, “we have two now, you’ll have to specific. Okay, all right, I’ll make sure Casey gets one,” she finished, smiling at the dirty look he was giving her.
“Let’s move out!” he called to the others, breaking into a jog leading to the tunnels and the jeeps waiting below.
Chapter 11
Ghost Town
Todd
Morenci, AZ
Clifton always appeared deserted, so that didn’t bother him much. Even in his youth, there were rarely cars upon the streets, or people to be seen. It was a town that had suffered greatly from layoffs and migrations, the buildings slowly starting to fall apart from being left unattended for so long.
Phelps Dodge, the copper mining company, had bee
n the driving reason for both Morenci and Clifton to exist. In fact, Morenci had once been located further up the US 191, but had been moved south as the company switched mining sites. Large mountains were slowly being stripped and flattened, loose rock littering the countryside. When they had transitioned to a new plant in Safford, most of the jobs went with them, and slowly the town became nothing but older generations not wanting to give up their homes.
His family had more than their share of miners within their ranks. Had he been born here rather than in Tucson, he might have ended up there himself. He looked at the track that was once used to move raw ore to the smelters that had been toppled two decades before, and tried to picture it as it used to be. He couldn’t. It was hard enough to see things as they were now, the life of yesterdays’ trying to superimpose over what is; the heartache at all that had already been lost.
“Walker!” Mykala announced from the backseat.
A thin Hispanic male was walking along the tracks, head down, arms hanging loosely at his side. He looked pale beneath his black T-Shirt and jeans, hair short and bloodied. Dead eyes turned to track their progress, mouth slightly hanging open as eyebrows raised. Leaping forward, the creature lunged at their Humvee, tripped over the track, and pitched headfirst into the ditch below.
“That was not a Day Zero,” he commented dryly, trying not to let emotion leech into his voice.
Being in the medical field, it had been Rosilynn that had first noted the differences in what they thought were zombies and what were actually roaming the streets. For one, they didn’t immediately look like they were dead; only pale Humans in need of a tanning booth. Well, unless there were external reasons for thinking them so; severed limbs, ripped out throat, there was a whole host of nasty ways a Human being could die. But if it had been something natural, like a heart attack, there were no outward signs of death. Unless the creature was walking around in shorts so you could see the blood pooling in their thighs, you might not even know they were undead until they tried to take a bite out of you.
The Rotting Souls Series (Book 4): Charon's Coffers Page 7
