by Chris Lowry
Each week was something new, and this last stunt by Mike nearly sent him over the edge.
Maybe it was time to pass responsibility on to someone else.
Maybe it was to her.
“What we’re proposing is a radical option,” she said as she stared at the men in the room. “But the fact is we can’t stay here.”
She studied them and Sharp gave her a small nod.
It might not have been encouragement, but she’d take it as such.
“My plan,” she said. “They’re not coming for us. So we’re going to them. We can’t survive out here, not long term. But Los Angeles is only fifteen hundred miles away. I say we load up in buses and make the trip.”
“We don’t have buses,” said Jacob.
“We get them,” she explained. “We get the buses, get supplies and move West to safety.”
“But will it be safe?”
The man next to Jacob had watery eyes and looked on the verge of crying.
His black hair was slicked back from a long forehead that gave his face a weasel like appearance.
“Hamilton,” Jacob introduced him.
“Ham,” the man offered like it was a treat to call him by a nickname. “We’re safe behind the walls.”
“Captain,” Pam glanced at Sharp.
“Your food stores are too low,” he said. “Even if you go on half rations, you won’t last the winter. Anyone dies in here, you’re susceptible to Z attack inside the walls. That’s going to take constant vigilance.”
“We’re doing that now.”
“It’s going to get worse as you get hungry,” he explained. “You’re asking these people to watch their children starve.”
Jacob bowed his head.
“We could make it through the winter, scavenge and plant crops.”
“Anything you plant won’t be ready until summer, or end of summer,” said Pam. “Can you last that long.”
The three city men stuck their heads together to confer.
There was a little argument in their murmurs, but in the end Jacob shook his head.
“We can’t last,” he agreed.
“But going across the country,” Ham said. “How do we know that’s much better?”
“It’s a chance. A fighting chance.”
It was a tough choice she placed before them and she knew it.
“Choose to stay and everyone could die. Or the community would break down, the zombies would take over and a bunch of people would be out on their own.”
She caught Jacob’s eye and held it.
“But if we go out as a group, make the journey together, we can help each other. We can watch your backs, and you can watch ours. I don’t know what’s out there, but I know what’s waiting at the end. Safety. Safer than here. A chance to rebuild.”
Hamilton looked at Jacob.
“If the zombies got in, what would we do?”
It was a question they had asked before, but never had a good enough answer.
Jacob could see how Pam laid it out, and there was a chance things could go down like that.
People weren’t rational, especially if they were starving and scared.
“How long would we be out there?” he asked.
She looked at Sharp.
“Fifteen hundred miles. No driving at night because we don’t know what we’ll encounter. Four hundred miles a day, maybe more, maybe less, so plan on five days.”
“We have food enough for that long,” said Jacob.
“Then we just need buses, or trucks to transport people.”
“Will school buses work?”
The third man spoke up.
Everyone in the room turned to him.
“I’m Turner,” he introduced himself. “I worked at the bus factory on the other side of town.”
“There’s a bus factory here?” Javi scoffed.
“It’s not really in this town, more like a suburb, and we only did the finishing work for the school. But we called it the factory. The buses should still be there.”
Sharp glanced at Pam.
“We can make an excursion to check, get a count.”
“I don’t want to lose any more people on this,” she said and turned to Jacob.
“We need to find mechanics, anyone who can drive a bus. Load them up, make one trip and caravan them back here.”
Jacob nodded, playing with the logistics in his head.
“While that group is gone,” Pam continued. “The rest of the group packs in supplies and gear. When the buses arrive, we load up and ship out.”
Jacob held up his hands.
“This is all moving too fast. It’s not like we’re starving now. We’re safe. We can stay here for a week or so, then get the buses and take our time.”
“We don’t have a week,” Sharp said. “We’re moving fast. The longer we stay, the more people we could lose. There are people back in Cali who are waiting for us, who are worried about us.”
“It’s just, we’re safe now.”
“For how long?” Pam asked. “I’ve been here two days and you’ve had a revolt at the gate and a suicide. That’s just what I’ve seen. You have a powder keg here, and the fuse is lit. It’s just a matter of time before it goes wrong again, and when it does, you might not be able to contain it.”
“We won’t be here to stop another attempt to throw open the gates to zombie neighbors,” said Javi.
“If you declare the move, you’re giving people hope. You’re giving them a vision to strive for and something to work to. They will rally behind you,” she told Jacob.
He shook his head.
“They wouldn’t rally behind me,” he sighed. “If that were the case, it would have happened already. They would listen to me about the gate, about anything really.”
“They have to,” said Pam. “They need something to believe in.”
“You. They need to believe in you.”
She blinked.
“You’re the one that’s going to rally them,” Jacob explained. “You’re from the outside. You brought in outside protectors, soldiers to help you. That’s what they see, that’s what they believe. You can rally them to go West to safety.”
Pam sat back in her seat and thought about it.
Maybe Jacob was right.
Maybe she was the catalyst to rally the people, and get them moving.
And get them moving fast.
The powder keg comment had just flowed out of her thoughts as she was talking to him, but now she could see that Hamilton, or Ham as he called himself was a sympathizer to the tie dye crowd.
She would have to win him over, but once they decision was made, she would work to sway him.
“Should we call a vote?” she asked.
“There’s no vote. It’s been decided,” Sharp stood and his soldiers snapped to attention with him.
“You,” he pointed to Turner. “You’re taking us to the bus depot. Jacob, find us a mechanic and drivers. We move out in one hour.”
30
Javi caught Sharp’s eye as the meeting broke up.
Jacob and Hamm went to gather the rest of the survivors in the auditorium to lay out the plan with Pam.
Turner waited for the soldiers by the door.
“Hold back a sec, Sir.”
“What is it?”
Only hard men can survive out there.
“This is a bad idea Captain.”
“I know it Javi.”
“Then let's just grab this bitch and vamoose. “
Sharp thought about it.
Not for the first time.
Their mission was to save and retrieve one woman, not a town.
But she wouldn't go without a fight and it would be a long trip back home.
Forcing her to go would make that a hard trip and fighting Z would be tough enough without fighting each other.
“She’s got the ball,” he said to his Sgt. “She makes the call.”
“You ready to lose more of us doing t
hat Sir?”
Sharp grit his teeth and flexed a fist. Then he huffed through his nose and let it out.
“It’s our job. We fight Z to protect people. It didn’t stop when the wall went up, we just got distracted staying safe. Is this a bad idea? Yeah, maybe. But our mission is to protect those people and get that woman back to LA safe. You got a problem with that?”
He asked in a soft voice, but it still carried an edge to it.
Javi shook his head.
“I’m with you Cap. I just want to make sure your head is screwed on straight.”
“I know the stakes Javi. I know what we’re up against and what we have to lose.”
They glanced through the doorway as Jess sauntered by on her way to the auditorium.
“I’m going to keep reminding you.”
Sharp gave his Sgt. a grin.
“I don’t want it any other way.”
He left Javi to gather the rest of the men for the meeting in the auditorium. As he made his way up the stairs, Pam was waiting for him.
“You all right?”
He nodded.
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Call me Pam,” she said.
"I can’t do that. We've got to get you a nickname."
"My Dad calls me Pamcakes."
"Pamcakes?" he snickered. "That doesn't make you sound very tough."
"I don't know, I think it's disarming. People hear it and they think cute little moppet with pigtails."
"You don't wear pigtails?"
"Only by special request."
"I'll remember that."
"See that you do, Captain."
They shared a smile, but his devolved into the semi-permanent frown that creased the corners of his mouth.
"I've got another special request."
"So soon," she teased but sobered up when she saw that he was looking for a serious moment.
"Pigtails reminded me. Where are all the kids in this creepy town?"
She glanced around and tried to remember the assembly, the gathering at the gate.
"I haven't seen any."
"Neither have I. I put SPECS on it, but nothing yet."
"Do they have kids here?" she wondered aloud, not really expecting him to answer.
Where were all the children?
"No sign of kids either. You would think in a town this size, with this population that some of them would have children. They've been here a year, right?"
She nodded.
"In a year, no one's gotten pregnant? No new kids being born?"
A line creased the fine skin between her manicured eyebrows.
Even in New York the survivors were having babies.
The refugee camps were full of squalling and crying infants.
There was even protocol for it, a team of people on hand for complications in case of stillbirth, or the mom dying in childbirth.
It was rare, but had happened.
The team was there to make sure that neither came back Z or spread the infection.
Would they have that same practice in the compound?
"I'll ask Jacob."
She said it to comfort the Captain, but he did not look swayed.
He looked like a man who didn't trust easily, and who thought asking Jacob might not be the answer.
She was glad he didn't say anything though.
That made her feel like he trusted her, or trusted that she would get to the bottom of it and report back to him.
"I'll get the answer," she assured him. "And I'll report back to you ASAP."
His frown didn't disappear, but it did soften a little to the hard line she had seen permanently etched on his face, like a scar on granite.
“You ready to set this thing in motion?”
She shifted her neck, stretching the muscles first one way, then the next.
He watched her put on a game face, roll her shoulders, like she was getting ready for a fight.
It was something he had done himself on many occasions. Stay loose. Stay ready.
“Let’s get this started.”
He followed her through the open doors.
Thank you for taking the time to read FLYOVER ZOMBE a Battlefield Z series. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated. Thank you. Chris.
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About the Author
Chris Lowry is an avid adventurer and ultra-running author. He divides his time between Florida, Arkansas and California where he trains for 100 mile Ultramarathons. He has completed over 68 races, including 18 marathons and 12 Ultramarathons and is planning a Transcontinental Run across the United States from Los Angeles to New York City in 2017. He has kayaked the Mississippi River solo, and biked across the state of Florida. When not outdoors, he is producing and directing a documentary film about adventure and writing. His novels include Sci-Fi thrillers, Spy thriller’s and mainstream fiction. He loves good craft beer and meeting with reading clubs and running clubs, especially if the aforementioned beer is offered.
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CONSCRIPTED
MISSION ONE
FLASH BANG
SHADOWBOXER
DECREED
CREDIBLE THREAT
NAZI NUKES
