The CITIZEN BAND RADIO came to life in the yellow school bus with Commanders Hudson’s voice as everyone in the seats quieted down.
“Stay alert we are entering the town, Report anything that concerns you.”
The convoy exited the interchange over Highway Twenty onto the roadway that became Bayou Drive passing several old hotels and fast-food restaurants with a large gas station with covered gas pumps. A chain-link fence was around the place with several sections damaged and laying on the ground.
“That use to be a working truck stop,” the bus driver said with some concern in her voice. Passing the damage building with the remains of a pickup truck sticking half in half out of the wall. The large parking area was empty. Expect for a few cars with what looked like bullet holes and flat tires one crushed by the covered roof that had collapsed over the gas pumps. The convoy slowed as they advance north along passing over a low profile cement four lane road. Sitting near the road a red brick church showing signs of damage; he looked away as he remembered one in another town. Dan shook his head as he wondered what had happened to the people he had met there. Did they make it, where they still there or did the aftermath of the plague claim them also.
Looking up to the front windshield of the bus breaking his walk down memory lane so much had happen in the last five years. He watched as Mable’s Big rig move onto the middle section of road from a roadway that divided into a three-way split. Passing by an overgrown and debris covered grassy medium. The convoy entered an area of town that had closely packed single story buildings holding what was once small shops and businesses.
“Looks like a twister went through here since the last time we went this way,” the middle-age woman driving the bus said as she surveyed the damage. Dan nodded his head agreeing since the plague tornadoes had become a big problem without the warnings people use to get.
The evidence of the tornado strong here several collapsed buildings with several more looking like they exploded all over the roadway. They stopped near a large blue metal water tower sitting on six metal poles with the round tank still standing without damaged.
This section of town showed the signs of a tornado strike within the last few hours. Scattered along the roadway was debris ranging from trees to parts of small stores and homes. Damaged cars with small puddles of water forming around them. The convoy slowed then stopped as the road in front of them blocked by debris. The CITIZEN BAND RADIO crackled once again with Commander Hudson’s voice.
“We will have to clear the road, form up into work parties,” was all he said.
Dan stepped down the metal stairs of the yellow school bus shouldering his fifty three inch Bear Archery dark wood grain recurve bow. Before clipping the black leather quiver with two dozen fiberglass arrows on to his belt. He took a moment to adjust the brown leather shooting brace on his arm and watched as Katrina and Mabel get out of the box like cab of the baby blue Peterbilt truck. Dan made is way over to them and together they made their way over to where Commander Hudson was standing with several people. He could just make out the conversation they were having as he approached.
“We could backtrack and take Highway Twenty to Monroe instead of clearing a way through,” ehe commander said quietly while looking at a road map.
“We could,” said a large trucker Dan recognized as one that worked with Mabel.
“But the City of Monroe has imposed a highway tax,” he said with disgust in his voice. Commander Hudson looked up from the map at the trucker his eyes asking a question.
“The city will stop and search all cars and trucks going through and charge a highway tax on the cargo. All for highway maintenance of course,” the trucker said with disgust still obvious in his voice.
“So unless we want a fight with the City of Monroe, we clear this road,” Commander Hudson said.
In a few minutes he had organized several work parties. Dan watched as ten self-defense force members left from talking to Commander Hudson going in different direction all of them had high-powered hunting rifles with scopes.
The rest of them worked with a silver two-ton dual wheel pickup truck that had a large metal V shaped snowplow blade attached to the front bumper to start clearing the street. Debris too big for the plow to push aside a second group would use chain saws or sledgehammers to break down to a more movable size. The supervisor for the crews estimated around three hours to clear enough road to continue. Dan left Katrina and Mable so they could check their truck and trailer. He figure he had time to look around while they cleared the road. Commander Hudson figured it was safer for the convoy to clear the road then trying to find a way through the town. He figured this place would have been gone through already but you never knew what you could find. He had started moving around the small businesses when he came to an alley separating some buildings. Dan peered down it to see a small parking lot behind the business. What he spotted causing him to move around a pile of debris heading for the back of the building. He stood looking at a truck unlike any he had ever seen. It was a white Ford F-Seven hundred fifty standard cab truck. The streamline cab gave way to a flatbed with a large enclosed box covering half the bed the rest taken up by a large circular dish on a movable platform. Turning his head as he heard someone approaching. He could see the riot gear covered figure Commander Hudson approached.
“As we left the town a government Humvee was watching us,” Dan started to address the Commander as he turned from the truck. Commander Hudson was surveying the truck in front of them.
“So you noticed,” he said with a slight smile Dan looked at him surprised, but before he could reply.
“They might have even tried to follow us but unless they drove to Vicksburg or Natchez to cross the river they found the bridge closed and heavily guarded,” he continued in his low voice. “I could not possibly let anyone leave that way for several days to ensure that none of the herders and zombies where still around,” he finished looking at Dan who just shook his head.
“Do you know what that is,” Commander Hudson asked Dan as he pointed at the truck. He just shook his head.
“It's a mobile radar truck used by the weather bureau to detect tornadoes,” the commander said as he moved forward to inspect the truck.
“I wonder why it is here,” he said keying a radio on his vest.
“Steven can you come to the alley next to the large building on the west side of the street.”
Dan heard no reply to the radio broadcast he was starting to wonder about it. Until Commander Hudson moved his head slightly and he saw the spiraling cord of an earpiece attached to the radio.
After a few moments before a short stocky man with thick black hair appeared in a blue uniform came jogging down the alley, the commander said nothing but pointed to the radar truck. The man’s face lit up before saying.
“Hello beautiful.”
“See what condition the truck is in,” he said as Steven moved towards the truck.
“I wonder were the people who work it are,” Commander Hudson said to Dan before moving back towards the alley’s entrance. Dan removed the Bear Archery recurve bow from his shoulder and pulled an arrow from the quiver as he walked down the alley next to the commander.
“We will get going a lot faster if I help,” Commander Hudson said turning away from Dan and motioning for a city worker holding two axes. Taking one of them, he moved off towards the pile of debris blocking the roadway.
Once again, this impressed Dan with how Commander Hudson worked. He moved out down the street past an old fast-food restaurant with a gas station facing it on the opposite corner. He walked down the deserted debris covered street over some railroad tracks towards a set of commercial buildings scanning the buildings for any sign of movement. He surveyed the buildings made of faded red bricks other than a few broken windows they were in good shape. Dan moved close to the buildings staying away from the center of the street. The town was silent, making Dan uneasy even a deserted town had some noise from animals or birds noise
even the wind but he heard none. The lack of noise was a bad sign from experience. He slowed as he approached a corner of a brick building that was a bank. He looked at the bank, but decided against going in while gold and silver was still valuable. The paper money worthless and he did not have the time or the tools. To break into the safe or any safety deposit boxes inside. He paused to check his watch he would have to get back soon. Dan quickly peeked around the corner of the building finding the street deserted.
He let the brim of his tan bush hat press against the building as he pictured the street in his mind. The small building sitting in front of a street that lead back the way he came. Dan decided to take that way back seeing if he found anything worth salvaging on the way. He stayed close to the wall with bow and arrow in his hands as he made his way to the back of the bank and stopped. He scanned the parking area behind the bank; it sat between the small building and a large overgrown vacant lot.
What he saw in the parking area made him stop he could see around twenty-five trucks, cars, vans and motorcycles and even a red Ferrari sports car parked there. Dan studied the cars and trucks they looked out of place the way they sat chaotically parked around the lot instead of between fading white lines of the parking spaces. This made him uneasy he could see no people and that many cars and trucks would mean around forty people and to leave their means of transportation unguarded meant trouble. He looked over the cars and trucks closely for any guards again. Making his decision. He loosened his grip on the bow and arrow before removing the arrow from the bowstring and putting the arrow back in his quiver before putting the bow across his shoulder. He drew his Springfield Armory GI government model nineteen-eleven forty five caliber autoloader from the black nylon Blackhawk holster from under his left shoulder. As he moved fast across the distance from the back of the building to the first of the trucks a battered blue pickup truck he made it unchallenged. Dan checked the area again before he looked underneath the truck to check for any guards. He paused from his position on the ground he could see the shirt of somebody leaning against the side of a car inside the group of vehicles. He took his time as he scanned the area for any more guards. Dan transferred the Forty-five from his right hand to his left before reaching up to grab the black leather wrapped hilt. Of the three foot Katana style sword strapped to his back under his gray daypack.
He quietly pulled the black metal blade from the plain black sheath. Placing it on the ground as he transferred the Forty-five back to his right hand then picked up the Katana off the ground using his left. In a crouch, he moved towards the sitting figure on the ground between the assorted cars and trucks. Dan moved between the cars and trucks working closer to the one with the figure but stopped next to a battered red flatbed truck with wood sides filled with boxes. The voice of a woman caused him to stop. He paused to look under the flatbed truck. He could see her bare legs standing next to a person sitting on the ground with their hands tied behind them. He listened as the woman rudely scolding the person on the ground.
“I don’t know why they let you live, but as soon as they finish with those others,” she was saying. This caused Dan to think.
“Did she mean the group he came with.”
“I bet they will let me kill you myself,” he heard the woman finish. Dan made up his mind, edging around the back of the flatbed truck crouching he stood up quickly to see the woman with her back to him. He placed the sharp black blade of the Katana against her neck resting it on her bare shoulder next to one of her long brown pigtails. Causing her to go silent as the man on the ground looked up. She slowly looked over her shoulder with the black blade on it at Dan. She paused for a moment, as she seemingly sized him up. He did the same to her, he decided she looked too old to wear two pigtails with a yellow halter-top and short blue jeans cut off without shoes. The large stainless steel blade of the bowie knife in her right hand appeared as her only weapon. She slowly smiled at him.
“Hi honey,” she started before Dan put pressure on the Kanata against her neck. She went quite again as he motioned with the Springfield armory Forty-five for her to put the Bowie knife down. She placed it on the roof of the blue ford mustang she was standing by. Dan used pressure on the blade of the Katana to make her back up allowing him a good look at the man on the ground.
At first glance, he was a man in his thirties with short blond hair with a prominent bald spot. One of his brown eyes swollen shut with dried blood on his split lip staining his white tee shirt. His gray dress pants where torn at one knee and his brown dress shoe covered feet where tied with a yellow nylon rope. Dan turned his attention back to the woman who was watching him closely; he knew better then to let his guard down. Still without saying, a word he put moved the blade slightly so he could put downwards pressure on the Katana blade. Causing the woman to go to her knees, then to lay face down on the dirty asphalt of the parking lot. Dan moved the black blade from her neck to the middle of her back. Pinning her to the ground if he shifted his weight. She had said nothing since he had silenced her but kept watching him, probably waiting for her chance to turn on him. The man had said nothing yet.
“What is your story,” Dan simply asked him.
The man looked at him for a second before replying in a hoarse voice.
“I live here, they caught me,” was all he said. As a loud crack bombarded them it had a sharper pitch then thunder. Dan easily recognized the rifle shot to him it sounded as if several had been fire at once.
“Looks like my friends found yours,” the brown hair woman on the ground said a little too sarcastically for Dan’s liking.
“There screwed then,” Dan, replied coldly.
“Turn around,” he told the man on the ground. He could hear a couple of scattered pistol and rifle shots before it went quite again as the man turned so his tied hand where facing Dan. He shifted the forty-five to pointed right at the woman watching him from the ground. Placing the tip of the Katana on the ground between the man’s tied hands so he could use the blade to cut the ropes on his hands. While the man moved the rope tying his hands up and down on the black blade. He kept glancing between the two of them. Once the man freed his hands. Dan stepped back using the forty-five to cover them both. He watched as the man untied his feet and stood up shakily as the circulation returned to his legs as he leaned against the blue mustang.
“Her friends will be back soon,” he started to say. Dan shook his head no.
“They would have gotten back by now if they got away,” he told the man quietly watching the woman’s expression turn sour.
“Now what,” the man asked.
Dan glanced at clear plastic storage box sitting in the back of a battered brown truck. He could see boxes of ammunition in it. Putting the Katana down on the side of the truck bed and used left hand to open the red lid of the plastic storage box.
“Score”, he thought as he removed a full box of Forty-five ammunition and placed it next to the Katana on the side of the truck before removing four more boxes of Forty- five ammunition.
“Tell you what,” Dan started. “The ammunition is mine, the rest do what you want with,” he finished.
“And her?”
The man asked motioning to the woman on the ground.
“Your problem,” Dan said dryly.
The man pondered this for a moment before taking the rope he had in his hands from untying his feet. Moving for the woman pinning her to the ground with his knee and grabbing for an arm as she started to struggle. Dan kept an eye on them as he slipped the gray day pack from his backed. Unzipping it before taking the five boxes of ammunition from the truck bed placing them in to his pack before returning it to his back. He returned the Katana sword to it sheath as the man finished tying up the woman. Pulling the woman to her feet.
“We still have laws here,” he told her his voice still dry and hoarse sounding. The man turned to look at Dan.
“If there are any survivors how long do you need,” Dan asked the man calmly.
“About f
orty minutes,” he replied Dan just nodded.
“We will probably be back through here soon,” he added.
“There will be no problems for you,” the man replied.
Dan nodded then backed away from them Springfield armory forty-five still in his hand. Making the perimeter of the cars and trucks he turned to start jogging down the street towards the convoy. Stopping at the side of a building he did not want to burst suddenly into the group. He waited for someone to notice him watching Commander Hudson. Stop working to plant his machete into the heads of two zombies drawn by the noise. After the second one had fallen on to the partially cleared roadway, Dan could see him watching him.
“You missed the fun,” Commander Hudson said in his low voice.
“No,” he replied as he walked from the corner of the building he was standing by.
Reading the look the commander had on his face as a question. Dan motioned at the group of Trolls that were prisoners. Guarded by several self-defense force members before he continued.
“I found their cars down the street. With a guard and prisoner,” he said unconcerned. Once again interpreting the expression on Commander Hudson’s face as a question.
“Long story short, the people of the town need about forty minutes to deal with them,” once again Dan motioned to the group of Trolls.
“They have an hour, then it is not my problem,” Commander Hudson said quietly.
Dan walked over to the open door of the cab of the baby blue eighteen-wheeler Peterbilt truck; he had wanted to check on Katrina.
“That Commander Hudson is an interesting man,” Mable said in her slow southern drawl to no one in particular. Moving past him to climb into the truck. He took a few minutes to talk to Katrina. It seemed like a second before he heard Commander Hudson calling for everyone to move out.
The Aftermath Trilogy (Book 2): The Aftermath [Town of the Dead] Page 10
