The Orphans | Book 8 | Retaliation

by Evans, Mike

  “Yes, that would be difficult, but I don’t understand how that has anything to do with Shaun’s precision modified rifle there.”

  “Doesn’t seem you’re listening then,” Earl bent down and took the gun from Shaun. He didn’t have to study it; he'd already been thinking of mods to it from the second he laid eyes on it. He knew this kid could drill holes in the Turned all damn day long but continued, “See here, Clary, there’s these holes you put down here diagonally, well them there gases shooting outta here they have a job to do, see here, if you wanted all the gases to unleash then you’d get rid of all the kick, and probably crank out fewer decibels. With a decrease in kick you might be able to give the kid another fifty to a hundred yards.”

  Clary snatched the gun out of his hands looking at the configuration on the silencer suppressor. He hadn’t had the time he wanted when he was making them. Then to boot, Shaun had decided it was a good time to leave and not answer anyone’s messages or outcries to come back. During that time, he had thought of a few things to make it better and had worried about Shaun every damn day that he was gone. Earl was waiting for a response when Clary unsnapped his pistol, not second guessing his thoughts at all. He handed it over to Earl and said, “There’s one in the chamber, Earl. Here is a bag of mags. If you run out, then you probably shouldn’t have been shooting in the first place. If you need to fire off a few rounds on our walk today, then you give me some notes on that suppressor on it.”

  Earl, a long time Will Ferrell fan said, “Did we just become best friends?”

  “No, but I handed you the gun instead of pointing it at you, so at the least we are taking a step in the right direction.”

  They walked up to the outskirts of the property looking around. They couldn’t lie when the realization that the cow was the last one on the property made them want to shoot the zombie a second time. Scott said, “If there was a second cow here, I would have been on board for sure to make a return trip. An entire cow wouldn’t feed a base for too long, but man, we could have at least a few really good nights of stew or something.”

  Greg said, “I know how important food is and all, but do we want to go see if anyone’s alive in that house? Or we could see if there are still any running vehicles or tractors or something.”

  “Why don’t you boys go check out the house, and we can hit the barn,” Clary said.

  Greg couldn’t help himself as he walked away saying, “Oh sure, everyone that hangs out with Shaun always comes out so well. Thanks Clary, I’ll remember to haunt you when a zombie tears my head off.”

  Shaun nudged him with his elbow. He said, “Hey, it isn’t my fault that I don’t get taken out by those things. Sometimes I think that it’d be a helluva lot easier.”

  “What, to be eaten?”

  “To not have to deal with all of this shit anymore. You said what no one else does, no one ever agrees with me, they never see how I see it. It isn’t like I try to be that way on purpose. It isn’t like I …”

  “Dude, relax, I was kidding. You’re a survivor, you can’t help that, I am too. It doesn’t matter how much stupid shit we do; we make it. We don’t fuck around and that’s why we make it. Why don’t you get your tampon in place and let's go see if there’s anything good in here to grab?”

  “I’ve missed you, Greg. The lack of headaches I’ve had to deal with has been really missed, my friend.”

  “What the hell did you do for all that time?”

  “Same ol same ol, meet new people, try to train them to stay alive and then lose them one by one. We were ready to not be able to go on and we met Mr. Li. He trained us and gave us new options. It helped me focus on things.”

  “But he didn’t take that chip off of your shoulder?”

  “No, I mean I was trying to but he got sick. That’s when I met Earl. It was the only time since I’ve known him that I haven’t had to listen to him talk. He had a pretty serious throat wound going.”

  “If only that would have lasted a minute longer. I mean, as much as I have enjoyed getting to know him.”

  “I’d say it takes longer but there isn’t any way of knowing. I’m still not sure what I think of him. But instead of being one of those who sat around waiting for someone to save him, he took what skills he had and contributed. He’d probably fit well with us in the beginning, he seems like he can do about anything with his hands.”

  “Maybe, do you want to take the door or do you want me to?”

  “You hit it; I’d like to keep it a surprise if there’s anything in there.”

  “Is ninja Shaun going to come out?”

  Shaun didn’t reply; he pulled a tanto blade. It was sharp enough to decapitate anything in its path or cut off any hands stupid enough to reach for him. Greg realized that he wasn’t going to reply and saw, as usual, that his focus was in place. He knew it had to be a look that the Fox men all had, because when day one had hit, his dad was using the exact same expression, never faltering.

  Greg did a one-two-three before pulling the door open. Shaun went in, staying very aware of his surroundings. The cupboards were all in order, there were no looters that had come through here yet. Shaun wanted to say hello but didn’t want to draw the attention of anyone who was in the house and wanting to tear his head off. Shaun motioned for Greg to come behind him as they worked their way room to room. When they made it to the top of the staircase, there was only one door open. Shaun walked forward no longer worrying about anyone trying to eat them. A man and woman that he made the assumption were husband and wife and owners of the house were lying in the bed. Each of them with a handgun in their hands resting on the pillow next to a long since dried wound. Their once white sheets were not a color that did good for his stomach, nor was the smell.

  “Well, Shaun, just like old times, isn’t it? This is about one of the worst things that I’ve ever seen. I mean at least go down fighting, right? How alone can you be when there’s two of you?”

  “When everything outside is either trying to kill you or turn you, I’d say pretty damn alone. If they don’t have a TV or radio that was working, they might have thought they were the last ones to be alive. They might have gotten bit and decided to just give in instead of dealing with the alternatives.”

  “So long as we can get out of here, is all that matters to me. Sucks to be them though, did you see those pictures on the wall? He looks like he was in the Air Force or something. I wonder what he’s been doing since Vietnam?”

  Shaun walked over, seeing the wall as well, and knew it as well as Greg would’ve if he’d had gotten to the picture first. Shaun said, “I don’t know if this is good, or bad, but it could be effing awesome if they can make it work for us.”

  “Did you want to go a little more into detail for me?”

  Shaun pointed at a picture on the wall and tapped it. He said, “This guy was better than the Air Force, this dude was a crop duster.”

  “Oh, awesome, Shaun, because I didn’t know you turned into a ninja and a pilot while you were gone!”

  “Oh, the sarcasm is strong with you. Yeah, I know I can’t fly, dipshit, but the guy Pilot Bob, sure as shit can, did, and could. Maybe we could get places in the plane. I don’t know, but it seems like if he has one here, it would be too good to be not utilized in some way. If he doesn’t park it here then maybe we can find it relatively easy. There aren’t that many places to take off in planes from around here I’d think, right?”

  “Dunno, I’ve never been on a plane. I don’t know if I want to now.”

  “It kind of made me want to puke thinking about it when we took off...given the fact that the dude’s previous flight had been a crash. But, in his defense, there was a zombie outbreak on the plane and that had to be a real eff you.”

  “So, if we find it, you think we take it back. That’s worth the time?”

  “About time the base is totally taken over or we need to do something quicker than wheels or a boat could offer us then yeah I’d say it’s more than worth it. We
can find a wagon trailer or something, I’m sure between Clary and Earl they could figure it out, no matter how little those two would want to work together.”

  Greg said, “Well, for the most part it’ll buy me some breaks from pissing off Clary, I can hope.”

  Shaun held the picture up, “We need to go tell them if they haven’t already found it. We can check out the house later, there’s nothing going anywhere.”

  “I think if I’d have gotten bitten, I would have nose-dived that thing and crashed it into a million pieces and took all those asses out with me.”

  “What about the other survivors?”

  “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t want to become one of those things and that’s no question.”

  ****

  Clary pointed to the door to a Morton shed. The house was a stand-alone with no garage, so their best and only hope to find a car that wasn’t parked out in the fields somewhere would be inside the Morton shed. The only other place would potentially be in one of the barns, but people probably weren’t going to keep their running cars in there, he figured. Earl said, “You sure it was smart to go sending them two boys by themselves?”

  Clary slid the joke right past Earl saying, “I don’t know, Earl, I’d say no probably. I mean, I sent the two best I got with me or on that base for the most part off on their own and away from me. They got a really good end of the deal by doing that.”

  “But don’t you think they're scared?”

  “No, I think having you on my six is scarier than anything.”

  Earl nodded his head, missing the joking insult. Scott actually snorted to which Earl asked, “You got a hairball, Scott?”

  Scott smiled, giving a thumbs up. Clary motioned for Earl to swing the doors open. He had already turned on the flashlight attached to the end of his rifle. When Clary took the lead, Scott walked in between the two of them. It hadn’t dawned on Clary to hand over a gun. Young Greg had zero interest in giving up any of his firepower, especially to someone he didn’t know and who wasn’t going to have his six. He knew Shaun would be ideal to have with him. Clary was jealous as hell of the two at the moment because of it.

  Clary felt a small amount of pressure rise off his shoulders when he exited the barn. That was quickly replaced tenfold when he saw the Morton shed which was twice as big as the old country house the boys were exploring. He knew what the inside of these buildings looked like, but most of the ones he’d encountered were overseas and had the SEAL team’s gear in them and bunks. He hadn’t been around a whole lot of tractors in his time. But it was his guess, given the state of the barn’s emptiness. The guy had to have something somewhere, unless he was just one of the weirdos who was a fan of living in the country and driving an hour into the city every day, but as far out as they were, he didn’t think that was the case.

  Earl said, “I’m sure glad to have your back, right now, nothing like being able to count on the one behind you, right?”

  Scott looked at his pitch fork, wondering what the hell he was thinking walking around with this stupid fucking thing. He had seen those things in action and unless he stuck it through their brain, they would reach forward, probably even more pissed off, grab him by the throat and rip it from its place. Leaving him standing there staring at his own guts. He’d also be leaving his son an orphan, which by the look of the base, he wouldn’t be the only one, but that wasn’t his goal nor would he let that happen.

  Clary said, “Well, I can’t tell you how good I feel about you guys on my six. Scott that’s one helluva nice pitch fork you got there. I’m sure there’s some hay somewhere you could use that on.”

  Scott knew how stupid he looked and just smiled, raising his middle finger off of the handle.

  Earl said, “You want me to go in first?”

  “I’d love for you to go first, but the only light I have is on this gun, and I don’t think it’d be too smart for me to let you go in on your own and blind with only a pistol.”

  “You sure you wanna go?”

  “Just make sure you guys don’t forget to come in, or at least you, Earl. Scott, no one would blame you for staying outside. Kind of wishing Greg would have been a little more willing to loan out his pistol, but if you don’t have it, you can’t use it.”

  Earl walked to the barn door and said, “Okay, I’m gonna count to three. So, when I get to three, I’m gonna pull it open, or do you want me to say three and then signal and then open it, or do you want me to count to three and then you nod to me and gimme the okay and then I open it or…”

  Clary put his hand up to Earl’s never stopping moving mouth. Clary looked to Scott who said, “Gunless guy probably ought to open the door anyway.”

  Clary would have winked but remembered the eye patch and that it wouldn’t probably have the same effect given the current circumstances. Scott did a one-two-three and pulled it open. Clary had about three seconds to process what he was looking at before action was what needed to be taken.

  Earl saw them first and didn’t even try to count. The rafters had Turned standing staring off into the nowhere. Those on the ground seemed to sense the light first and turned, racing towards the door. Clary was going to have him close it but they’d just knock it down. It might even make things worse if they got out of the building. There wasn’t a high amount of hope if they had a hundred directions they could be coming from. He was glad to not have a muffled suppressor on his machine gun at the moment because if God could even shine a little bit of light on his ass then that would mean that maybe...just maybe, Shaun or Greg would hear him and come racing to the fight. He knew his kids and these ones didn’t believe in giving up and would do everything in their power to try and save everyone.

  Clary took aim, firing off one shot after another. The first three raced straight for him. He fired off pop, pop, pop sending them to the ground with a neck breaking strike to the forehead that they would not recover from. Clary missed the second one and they leapt up onto cars, diving straight for him. Earl pushed him out of the way, not enough to make him lose his balance, because he needed the light. Earl fired off two shots, burying one each into the two attacker’s skulls. Clary cringed for a second, not having the faith in Earl, but that was definitely changing quickly with time, and proof that he was capable and useful of a lot more than he’d given him credit for.

  Earl saw movement out of his peripheral vision, and as he tried to spin, all he saw was the open mouth of a Turned racing towards him. Its mouth was stretched wide and if he’d ever seen a starving animal, this for sure was what he would expect one to look like. When he felt a wetness on the rear of his neck, he thought for sure it was the beast's spittle or potentially his own blood.

  Chapter 13

  Yassa clenched onto Pete’s wrist, gripping tightly to it, just barely able to keep a good enough grip to keep the teen from plummeting to his death, stories below. Pete opened his eyes, expecting the last thing he’d feel would be the ground not an iron tight grip around his arm. Yassa said through clenched teeth, “I got you kid, now try and get your hands back up here. I can’t hold you for that long.”

  Pete was doing his best, and could see that Yassa had dived for him and had a very large, all steel, hard machine gun which he had probably just landed on. He did not think that it would gather him any additional love from Yassa. Pete swung his legs until he could get a finger on the ladder. When he got his hands up onto the ladder, Yassa quickly gripped the rear of his shirt, pulling him up to the side of it. The Turned had not gone anywhere and just as quickly as he had saved Pete, he was just about to lose him again. The Turned, as always, only knew one speed, full on! Yassa was still keeping an arm on him and both saw they were no longer alone on this ladder. Pete said, “Some of these things need to get off here or they’ll snap the ladder in two.”

  “You got a grip?”

  Pete nodded and that was when the tightness around his shirt disappeared leaving him on his own. Yassa didn’t have time to get to an upright position and havi
ng his rifle trapped beneath him did little to make things easier. He got a hand on his pistol and pulled it, firing as soon as he had a target set in front of his sights. The Turned fell, one after another, but those who had made their way up the multiple floors seemed to not go anywhere alone. When they got to the top, they began leaping towards the two on the ladder. Yassa never looked back to the opposite side of the roof behind him. He didn’t need to know if he was alone. The constant gunfire erupting and going off was more than enough to be assured that these people were doing every damn thing that they could to ensure he was going to stay alive if they had any say in it.

  Yassa was doing his best, but it was not good enough at the moment. Four of The Turned leapt across the ladder and, unlike him, experienced zero pain, mostly because they had his soft body to land on. When they hit; the rungs from the ladder dug into his shins and stomach making what air he had in his lungs disappear. The first of the two Turned came up and its fellow zombie brethren didn’t seem to care about its well-being, only about the meal in front of it. The unlucky Turned got thrown off the side of the ladder and Pete couldn’t help but watch as it screamed and growled as it plummeted to the hard concrete below, missing the grip that it so desperately wanted as it reached out to clasp onto his ankle.