Joe drew blank stares from most everyone in the room. He realized that he had left out the issue of finding Brittany and Lucy and it did not take long for someone to key in on it.
“So what are we gonna do about that crazy bitch that took Brittany?” Ashleigh said, speaking up.
“To be quite honest I don’t know if we should go out looking just yet. We don’t even know what, if anything has happened to either one of them,” Joe responded, taking a seat as he did. “I know it sounds like a shitty thing to do, but we don’t know enough to make any kind of assumptions,” Joe said and turned to Curtis. “How much do you know about this Brittany chick anyway?”
Curtis stared up for a few seconds and let out a long sigh. “Not a whole hell of a lot. She showed up with Eric, but I don’t think they were a couple or anything. She never really said anything to me or any of the others. Hard to tell what her deal was.”
“I still think we should go after her. God only knows what Lucy is up to. We should have just killed her when we had the chance.”
Joe’s mood changed immediately. He had tried his damnedest to make sure that they could keep some semblance of humanity left in them, and after all, Lucy had led them to rescue Joe, Balboa, and Jamie after Abraham had taken them. He had tried to give the young woman a chance, and now that decision was biting him in the ass. He could not make heads or tails of his decisions recently. They had risked their lives to get some of the necessary antibiotics and other medical supplies at the nursing home, as well as expending a significant amount of ammo in the process; supplies were not infinite by any means. It all seemed like a wasted effort now that the two people that it was meant for had joined the ranks of the living dead. Joe gritted his teeth and tried to keep his calm, but his emotions were running a mile a minute. It would not be long before he would snap on someone and really tell them what he was thinking instead of the PG-13 version that he was currently employing.
Joe inhaled deeply and calmed himself further. “I know that, I can’t help what has already happened. To be quite honest I really don’t care for going after Lucy or Brittany at this point. If you guys would like to, then you do it on your own. You're not taking any of the guns here or the ammo, or the Humvee, or any of the supplies.”
Ashleigh stood up, nearly to the point of rage. “And who the hell are you to tell us what we can and can’t do?”
Joe copied Ashleigh’s move and shot up from his chair, flinging it backwards as he did. “BECAUSE THIS IS A DICTATORSHIP AND I AM FIDEL FUCKING CASTRO, THAT’S WHY! GOT IT?”
Everyone who had been eating the room looked up, startled. So much for the PG-13 version, might as well lay it on ‘em now, Joe thought. “I am pretty sure that I made myself clear yesterday, and for Amos and Curtis I will explain. Everybody keeps questioning my judgment and my decision-making capabilities. I said it before, and I will say it again. If you don’t like the way I run things,” Joe pointed outside as the storm continued. “Then there is the door.”
Having said his peace yet again, Joe sat back down again, slightly less frustrated now that he had let out a significant amount of built-up tension. Ashleigh dejectedly sat back down, her cheeks a flushed crimson. Joe opened his MRE and began to eat and contemplate how he was going to divvy up the people he needed for each job that was to be accomplished for the day. He cleared his head and jotted down some notes on a small notebook that he had found behind the counter of the snack bar. He set up the list for the tasks:
Myself, Curtis, Balboa – Communications
Ashleigh, Buffey, Rickey – Supplies
Amos, Chris – Scavenging in the hangar
Jamie – Guard duty
Joe gave each person their tasks for the day; Ashleigh was still fuming over Joe’s outburst but took her duties in stride. Joe got Curtis, Balboa, and the SINCGARS radio and made their way to the small tower that was used for air traffic control. They had not secured the building yet, so all three men went armed with their sidearms, as well as Joe with his tomahawk and Curtis with his Ka-Bar. Balboa took one of the rebar devices they had fashioned in lieu of a knife. Ashleigh, Buffey, and Rick started in on the listing and organizing of supplies and Amos and Chris were arming up to clear out the hangar, another building that they had not yet cleared.
Joe, Curtis, and Balboa checked weapons and went to the traffic control tower. The small three-story outpost was approximately a hundred yards from the terminal. The hangar that Amos and Chris would be investigating was roughly halfway between the terminal and the tower and looked to hold no more than three or four planes. The open area that lay within the hangar would be a better place to hole up than the glass-fronted terminal. Joe contemplated moving inside the hangar as he, Curtis, and Balboa made their way over to the tower. The lone doors at the bottom were double doors, chained together from the outside. Joe looked at it in disdain, as he did not know how he would get it open when Balboa produced a small pair of bolt cutters. Joe looked at him quizzically.
“Where in the hell do you keep all of this stuff from? And moreover, where did that come from?”
Balboa lined up the cutters and bore down, snapping the chains from the door. He grinned slyly and shoved the small pair of cutters into his belt loop in the back of his pants. “Secrets of the trade buddy. Maybe one day I will show ya how it’s done.”
Joe pulled his 9mm from it’s holster and checked the chamber shortly after Balboa dropped the chains off the door. Curtis did the same with his pistol, as did Balboa. Joe once again took his flashlight and held it in his left hand underneath his 9mm, tactical style. Balboa slowly pushed open the door, revealing the relatively dark room. The first thing that all three men noticed was the smell. A stench wafted out of the door as it opened further. Joe clicked his light on and pointed it in the doorway. A single zombie stuck it’s head out as Balboa swung it open. Joe did not hesitate to fire a single shot just above the nose, instantly making the ghoul drop.
He shined the light ahead of him and walked slowly into the dark, bad-smelling room. The first thing he noticed aside from the lone zombie on the floor was that there was no room at the bottom of the stairs. The zombie that was inside had obviously been locked in from the outside, chained up by someone else. Joe wondered if the lone zombie had done it by choice or lack of options. He stepped over the zombie and scanned around the bottom of the staircase. No more sound or stench aside from the re-killed zombie remained. Curtis came in behind of Joe, with Balboa bringing up the rear. Joe slowly walked ahead, shining the light up the stairs. The light quickly disappeared as he door was propped slightly open by Balboa’s bolt cutters.
Joe reached the top of the stairs and into some light. The room at the top of the stairs was not much larger than a prison cell, roughly eight feet by eight feet square. There were three windows in the room, one to both sides and a third directly ahead. Joe holstered his 9mm and gestured to Balboa to set up the SINCGARS on the radio board in front of them. Without power, there would be no use to try to use the radar or any of the communications equipment that would have been of great use. Balboa sat the radio down on the console and searched for an antenna to hook it to. The nomenclature of the SINCGARS radio was not at all unfamiliar to any of the three men, but hooking it into the existing gear was not going to be easy.
“Well if we can get this going, I think that we might be in business. Problem is, I have no idea how to get this thing going without an antenna. Give me a few minutes and I will see what I can come up with. Meanwhile, why don’t ya’ll see about getting a generator instead; if we could get power hooked up to this bitch then we could do some real damage,” Balboa said, his hands searching over the gear on the terminal.
Joe nodded and cocked his head towards Curtis to follow him. Both men exited the tower, doing a second clearing to be sure there were no more uninvited guests, and left the building. Amos and Chris were approaching them, exiting the hangar as Curtis and Joe neared them. Joe waved to Chris to come towards them. He and Amos approached with
a hopeful look on their faces.
“Find anything of use in there?”
“Yeah, two planes that none of us know how to fly and some mechanical equipment, looks like welding equipment and two generators,” Chris said with a grin.
“Good deal. Listen, Balboa might be able to get us some communications going if we can get one of those gennys hooked up to the tower. Can we carry one of ‘em around the back of the tower and see what we can do?”
Chris scratched his head. “I suppose we can. They look pretty heavy, but if we get it on the back of the Humvee it would be a lot easier.”
“Well since this storm has let up for a while, go borrow it from Jamie, he can stay in the guard shack at the gate for a few minutes until we get it in place,” Joe said, shielding himself from more of the intense winds. The storm the night before had died down considerably, with very little rain coming now; however, there was still the matter of the intense wind that seemed to be getting worse as time went on. Joe told Chris to bring the generator over to the tower while he and Curtis went back up to the top of the third floor structure. Balboa was waiting for them with a puzzled look on his face.
“What’s up man? You get something on the radio?”
Balboa continued tweaking the dials on the SINCGARS, trying to find a sweet spot. “I thought I heard one of those loop transmissions, but I lost it. I swear I heard something like a NOAA weather statement, but like I said, I lost it.”
Joe was slightly taken aback. “Why the hell is NOAA working right now? I know that the voice is automated, but someone has to be feeding it information, otherwise it would just be giving the time, date, and the location from where it was broadcasting if I'm not mistaken.”
Balboa stopped fiddling with the controls and stood up with a concerned look on his face. “Well the weather we have been experiencing is not a coincidence, I’ll tell ya that.”
Joe was now the one with the concerned look. “And why is that?”
Balboa turned up the speaker, a tinny voice came across the speaker of the SINCGARS. It was just barely audible between the static but Joe heard exactly what he was talking about. The voice was not automated, but was on a repeating loop.
“Son of a bitch. If it ain’t one thing it’s another.”
THIS IS AN EMERGENCY STATEMENT FROM THE USS CARL VINSON.
A LARGE HURRICANE NEARING THE FLORIDA COASTLINE IS EXPECTED TO MOVE ACROSS FLORIDA AND AFFECT MISSISSIPPI, ALABAMA, LOUISIANA, AND TEXAS IN THE NEXT 24 HOURS.
THE SYSTEM HAD BEEN CLASSIFIED AS A CATEGORY 3 HURRICANE BEFORE THE ANOMALY. THE EXACT STRENGTH OF THE STORM IS NOW NOT ACCURATELY OBTAINABLE. ANY PERSONS RECEIVING THIS TRANSMISSION IN THE AFFECTED AREAS SHOULD SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY AND PREPARE FOR THE STORM TO LAST AT LEAST THROUGH THE NEXT 48 HOURS.
THE UNDEAD STILL MAINTAIN A LARGE PRESENCE IN THE CITIES AS WELL AS OTHER MUNICIPALITIES. STAY AWAY FROM IRRADIATED AREAS. A LIST WILL FOLLOW OF THE AREAS AFFECTED BY THE STORM AND RADIATION BOTH.
MIAMI
BIRMINGHAM
JACKSON
NEW ORLEANS
ATLANTA
ORLANDO
AVOID IRRADIATED AREAS AT ALL COST. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY STATEMENT FROM THE USS CARL VINSON.
The message continued, repeating itself once again. Balboa jotted down the names of the cities that now glowed in the dark. The United States had no shortage of nuclear weapons and apparently had not used much selective targeting to take out the undead in certain cities. Six cities in the area had been wiped off the face of the earth. New Orleans would now be especially gruesome. The damage from Hurricane Katrina was not yet 100% fixed and now that the city had been nuked it would be an abysmal swampland once the hurricane hit, if not already. Joe wondered to himself why there had been such a swift use of nuclear weapons to quell the undead.
Before everything went dark, there had been instances of other major cities using their nuclear arsenal on populations that probably had not had much of, if any, chance to escape. The major cities in Western Europe had not been affected. London, Paris, Barcelona, Rome, Berlin, and a host of other cities had not been glassed during the outbreak. The Russians had been similar to the United States, nuking Moscow and St. Petersburg, to name a few. Joe figured that every city in the United States with a sizeable population had probably met the same fate. The good thing was that they had not passed any large populations on the way down to Alabama. The only cities in Virginia that likely met a sad fate were Richmond and perhaps Norfolk, but Joe was not sure about Norfolk due to the Navy’s large presence in the area. It seemed counterproductive to take out such a large arsenal.
Balboa finished writing down the essential information from the Carl Vinson broadcast and turned the radio down. The loop once again continued with it’s transmission. Balboa stood and faced Joe and Curtis, both men with arms crossed and in deep thought. None of the three said anything for a few minutes, quietly contemplating their own thoughts. Joe put his hands on his hips and shrugged. There was only one way to sum up their situation.
“I guess we prepare the group for bad news.”
CHAPTER 11
Joe was being the bearer of bad news again. He was relaying the message from the USS Carl Vinson. For the last thirty minutes, he broke the disappointing announcement that a hurricane was headed their way. The weather that had been getting progressively worse throughout the last 24 hours was going to be poorer than before. As was expected, most of his people had suggestions for how to batten down the hatches. At worst, the buildings would sustain heavy damage from the wind and rain and they would be stuck with nothing to use for cover. They had little time to prepare for anything. Joe did not want to take his people out in the storm, yet he did not want to stay and risk the buildings being torn apart while they slept. In the best of circumstances, he realized they were still screwed.
Curtis waited until the chatter had died down and suggested. “Why don’t we head to the nursing home for the next day or two?”
Joe mulled over the thought for a few seconds before answering. Half the group seemed to be up for staying for a few days at the nursing home while the rest did not want to leave, no matter the weather.
“I think we should head for the nursing home. It’s brick, only one story, and has plenty of beds to sleep in,” Curtis continued.
Joe grinned at the thought of having a normal bed to sleep in. “When was the last time any of us slept in an honest-to-God comfortable bed?”
The majority of the room lit up shortly until they realized what that entailed. They would need to take at least two trips across town to secure the facility once again. Joe and Curtis knew that there was a pile of bodies near the front door that would need to be taken care of before anyone would want to stay an extended period of time. The pros and cons of going there seemed to be about even as near as they could tell. Joe thought about the trip across town and came up with an alternative idea. They needed somewhere more defensible, somewhere with more than one story.
They needed the hospital.
Joe knew there was considerable opposition at the hospital, along with the fact that they would be using up a considerable supply of ammo with it. Joe looked to Balboa.
“Hey, how much ammo has the Ma Deuce got left? Better yet, can we link together what we have?”
Balboa stared off for a second while he thought. “We have three full cases plus whatever it has on it now, around three or four hundred rounds give or take.”
Joe thought it over for a second before bringing it to the group’s attention. No one spoke again, prompting him to let up a little on his intensity. He had become such a hardass to deal with that no one wanted to question his decisions, which is what he wanted, but at the same time, he needed an outside opinion every now and again. Joe realized he might have to just let up a little more, a move that he did not particularly want to make. In times of anarchy there needed to be a singular person that people could look to make the right decisions without hesitation. Joe was that person and
what he had said had been law up to this point, now he needed to make it less of a dictatorship.
“Look, I know that I have been a pain in the ass to deal with. But at this point this is too big of a decision for me to make without at least getting a feel for what you guys want. So feel free to speak up if you have anything to say right now,” Joe said his piece in a low and reassuring tone, trying to gain back some of the friendliness that he had before the world went to shit. He had always had a good sense of humor, and now it was lost. He had always wondered what he would be like without it, and now he knew. He was an asshole just like everyone else, nothing special except for the fact that he could make the hard decisions now and was starting to care less and less about the consequences.
“I don’t like the fact that we have to move around, but like Joe said, this place is not going to hold up against a hurricane. The hospital from what I understand is pretty overrun with the undead, but I think if we can get to it then we should try,” Buffey said as she held Dakota and patted his back. The small, innocent child slept most of the time, and now was no exception.
Joe realized that even though Buffey did not see them as husband/wife anymore, which did not change her thoughts in having Joe’s back. She was still going along with his plan, knowing full well that he was doing what he thought was in the best interest of the group. Ashleigh was the next to speak up.
“So what is our ends to this? What I mean is do the ends justify the means? If we get to this hospital are we gonna be able to get out of here and finally get to the Gulf of Mexico like we had planned? If that is the case then count me in, if not then I don’t think we should risk it, hurricane or not.”
Six Feet From Hell: Books 1 - 3 Page 34
