The Aftermath Trilogy (Book 2): The Aftermath [Town of the Dead]

by Smith, Daniel

Dan took a moment before he walked up the rubber-matted steps of the yellow school bus as he watch Commander Hudson send three of the injured convoy members back to Hope. In the radar truck, he had found before he took the seat behind the driver as the convoy started to move once again forward further into the town. Looking out the window as they passed the bank where he had found the cars and trucks of the trolls. He could see a group of people around them look up as they passed. However, they ignored the convoy as it passed. Dan sank into his seat as he spotted some empty railroad cars sitting down the section of track he had seen earlier. He started thinking about his talk with Sandra. On how the government wanted a working train to speed their recovery efforts. However, this left him wondering what it would mean for him, his future once again was bothering him. Snapping back to reality as they passed a large store that showed clear signs of being empty with a few zombies moving towards the sound of the convoy. As he started listening to a few people on the bus talk about the fight with the trolls earlier.

  “Man did you see how the Commander handle them,” a young man said. Wearing a blue set of coveralls the city workers used to a man about the same age in a self-defense force uniform.

  “Yes, he is a cool customer,” the other replied.

  “I would say so,” a third person had joined in.

  “ I am colonel John Hudson United States army special forces retired. We are not here to cause trouble but if you do not let my people go there will be consequences,” the city worker replied trying to mimic Commander Hudson voice.

  “I know and he said it so calmly as he faced down the leader of the trolls as he held that trucker hostage with a knife to his throat,” the self-defense force member said.

  “I know,” the third person had added in again. “And when that guy started to push the knife slowly into the trucker’s throat, I thought he was dead.”

  “Not me,” the self-defense force member said, but for some reason Dan did not believe him.

  “Did the Commander say anything before those snipers fired,” the city worker asked.

  “All I know ten of those trolls just had their head’s explode, before any of them knew what happened,” the third person added.

  “He did not have to, those snipers are good,” the self-defense force member said.

  “I will say so and when he told them they had just lost a fourth of their number and if they moved they would be down to half. The look on their faces,” the city workers started.

  Dan tuned the rest of the conversation out, as the convoy passed into a tree lined area again before opening to wild farmland. They started heading north again. Along the Sixty five before long arriving at the town of Transylvania a small functioning town the main road in guarded by two police cars. The convoy slowed once again before stopping in front of the two Police cars with four people in tan police uniformed with wide brim hats and mirrored sunglasses sat and stood next to the cars. As the convoy stopped he leaned out the open window of the bus to watch all of them stand holding a collection of shotguns and hunting rifles.

  “Something is wrong; they have always been friendly here,” the bus driver said as they watched Commander Hudson get out of the lead eighteen wheeler and walk up to the checkpoint alone. Dan watched as he talked to the officers for a few minutes. Before he saw the officers relax and lower their guns from a ready position. He thought back to Manny and how he use to do the same as they approached a new town after the plague. After another minute of talking, Commander Hudson walked back to the baby blue eighteen-wheeler Peterbilt truck and spoke to someone inside it before reappearing with a large brown paper bag. Watching as Commander Hudson moved back to the police officers handing the bag to them before shaking hands with them before heading back to the truck.

  Dan watch as two of the offices pulled the patrol cars off the road enough to allow the convoy to pass. As they passed, he saw one of the officers open the brown bag and remove a sandwich just as the CITIZEN BAND RADIO came to life again.

  “Just received word there has been some heavy troll problems in the area. Be on alert,” was all Commander Hudson said before the radio went silent.

  He lounged in his seat wondering if they were the same ones from earlier. The trucks made a couple of tight turns going through the small-town. Picking up Highway Eight, Dan could see some of the town people watching the convoy pass by. He even heard a few of the trucks air horns go off as they passed some waving kids. Watching this with a strange feeling; he was use to places empty of living people. They headed west down a small two lane highway flanked by trees, as they continued it returned to wide open flat land of long used farms.

  The towns people mostly live on the riverside of town so they saw fewer signs of people as they traveled toward the light rolling hills with trees.

  “Hamburg Crossett might be a problem,” he heard the bus driver say.

  “There was a fight for control last time I went through there.” Dan sat quietly in his seat the noise in the bus was beginning to bother him as he spotted the weather-beaten and battered sign.

  “Welcome to Arkansas.”

  “Elephants,” an excited voice call out in the bus, this pulled Dan out of his thoughts and turned to stare out the bus window were people had shifted to one side. He eyed the massive animals the only other time he remember seeing them were in the Phoenix zoo when he was younger on a school field trip.

  “I think those bus rides were more fun,” he thought absently. Counting eleven of the massive animals grazing in a field of tall grass to the side of the road with thickly packed trees behind them. One of the young ones raised their small trunk into an S shape to start charging the moving bus with flapping ears for a moment before stopping uncertainly. He did not move but let out a small trumpeting sound as it stood watching the convoy.

  Dan’s solemn face broke into a smile for a minute. As a larger elephant moved closer to the younger elephant the big gray ears flapping slightly as the skin seemingly wrinkled as it moved closer. Stopping to move their long trunk out gently caressing the younger one. Which curved its trunk again upwards in an S shape trumpeting, this made Dan remember one of Manny’s old sayings.

  “Brave from a far but far from brave.”

  The larger elephant eyeing the convoy with suspicion as the bus moved on. Dan turned from the window and back to his uncertainty. He over several people talking about hearing about an elephant preserve once located in Arkansas before the plague lapsing into thought thinking times had changed.

  The convoy stopped a little after they passed Hillsboro, waiting on Highway Eighty two before two self-defense force members pulled up on motorcycles next to Mabel’s truck. Stopping they talked to Commander Hudson before the convoy started moving again. Passing the two waiting motorcycles as they continued down the highway. After a while, Dan sat up in his seat as he saw the tall trees lining the highway thinning. Showing a couple of ruined houses on one side opposite overrun farmland. Looking out the bus window watching it slow even more. Even with the rumbling of the bus’s engine and people talking excitably on the school bus. A slight crunching sound started coming from under the tires of the bus before it stopped behind the blue Peterbilt truck. Dan waited for a couple of people to leave the bus first before he exited. As he stepped, threw the door of the bus he heard.

  “Oh God,” from a woman who had just gotten off the bus in front of him.

  Dan ignored all the human bones that littered the roadway. He looked around the two-lane road flanked on one side by tall trees. The other by overgrown farmland with tree separated from the road by rolls of sharp razor wire set on top of concrete road dividers with signs saying.

  “Danger Minefield Keep Out.”

  His gaze wondered to the abandon cars and trucks in front of Mable’s truck channeled between low cement roadwork dividers blocking their way. He focused on a few half decomposed bodies that were starting to move on the roadway and the overgrown fields. Dan heard two people talking as one held a skull with a lar
ge piece missing.

  “There was one hell of a battle,” he said turning the skull in his hand before tossing it aside.

  He walked through the bones past them heading towards the blue Peterbilt. Passing one crawling figure he was unsure if it was a man or woman. Dragging its severed torso by only one attached arm towards him. Dan past it without a second thought. Continuing past the truck making his way to the mix of cars and concrete barriers. Stopped in front of green sandbag emplacements blocking the road forward to stop next to Commander Hudson.

  “Right there,” he said pointing just past a barely visible road sign set among a tangle patch of overgrown trees and bushes to a slightly visible gap set into the trees.

  The thickets of tall trees had a gap between them containing a mass of felled trees and branches, blocking any view behind it. Commander Hudson nodded to what he had said. He was inspecting the green sandbag emplacements on either side of the road. Many abandon cars sat between them. They all had bones around them skulls, rib cages just visible in the scraps of clothing. Some still wore military uniforms but mostly they consisted of every day clothing now stained with the rot and decay of human remains they still covered. All around them on the road was a multitude of spent bullet casing from various handgun to assault rifle to large fifty caliber casings with most casing still on the road. Some slightly buried in the soft ground.

  “I would have put two heavy machine guns their and at least one to two mortars their and there to cover the road,” Commander Hudson said rather matter-of-factly.

  “In addition, I would have used those homes for barracks and supplies he commented pointing at the abandoned homes near the road.

  “I wonder if we should search them,” he quietly said. Dan shrugged before commenting casually.

  “Personally I wouldn’t waste my time.”

  Commander Hudson looked at him for a moment a smile playing about his mouth.

  “I see” he replied.

  “You can see where they covered the road,” Dan continued. Pointing at the side of the road past the ruined cars stuck between the cement barriers and sandbags to a spot of old asphalt barely discernable under the debris covering the road. Sloping down from the main road extending towards the pile of debris.

  “Right behind it is an old one-lane road call Morgan if you can call it a road. It passes some old abounded homes and is in bad repair. But it will reconnect with the highway passed the minefields,” Dan finished.

  “All right then,” Commander Hudson, said quietly nodding his head at the sound of a machete crunching threw the skull of a crawling zombie silencing it moans.

  “We are going to need to clear some cars out-of-the-way to be able to clear that area, so we can get moving,” Commander Hudson said addressing the group that stood before him.

  He started braking them up into teams like before. The supervisors once again directing people with chain saws to cut the branches and trees to a size people could easily move. Others began moving the wrecked cars and trucks out of their way. Allowing the larger trucks to be able to pass while still more took care of the few undead. That kept showing up as they cleared the opening big enough for them to pass through. They performed this in just over an hour. Dan looked up into the dark clouds forming in the afternoon sky as it started to rain ever so lightly.

  “It is not far now,” he muttered hoping this trip did not end like the last.

  He turned just in time to see Mable watching him quietly. Before she climb into the cab of her truck and turn her attention to the road, this caused the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach to get worse.

  The convoy passed through the opening they made before Commander Hudson had several people start to cover the opening again. After the two motorcycles acting as a rear guard raced up the road to report no one followed them. Dan ignored the look Commander Hudson gave him as he transfer himself to the cab of the baby blue Peterbilt truck now. He and Katrina sitting in the sleeper shell of the cab with Mable driving and Commander Hudson riding in the passenger seat.

  Commander Hudson had said nothing at this. About a mile and a half down the road, they past a small fading cream color warehouse that had a UPS sign in front of it. The convoy had not gone much further when Commander Hudson snatched up the radio’s microphone.

  “Stop,” he called out.

  “I want to check the in ground tanks to see if they had fuel still in them,” Commander Hudson stated looking at a gas station with a convenience store.

  “Still full,” a city worker called out as he ran up to the truck. Commander Hudson looked impressed.

  “Make this a priority for fuel for the return trip once we set up,” he told the man motioning the convoy on.

  Traveling only a thousand feet down the road. A large one story white warehouse with three roll up doors came into view with twenty zombies moving away from it towards the road and the noise of their convoy.

  The convoy travel down the heavy tree lined highway in an on gain off again light rain. As they exited onto Southfield road passing light groves of trees and open grass fields that had been going back to the wild. Passing a large white building that had several loading docks for big rigs several still there with a small fenced off airport runway, they followed the road as it turned into Washington avenue. They took up almost the entire small two-lane road passing single story residential home that where showing signs of being long abandon. They went through an area with commercial buildings and passed an industrial supply shop and a U-Haul rental. From where he sat in the cab of the truck Dan imagined the looks of people in the bus and their comments the further they went into the town. He was sure they wanted to stop now and start getting rich.

  Still traveling down the road now passing two story homes and shops, the side streets they past had large numbers of people in shadows from the dark late afternoon clouds. People moving in a shambling gate. It almost made you feel the town was normal; unfortunately, it was a town of the dead. The shambling mob of undead turning at the noise of the convoy moving towards it welcoming them. He could almost hear their pitiful moans sounding almost as if they were cheering their arrival. The left turn onto Main Street was tight and they could see the three story white courthouse building with tall classical columns stretching upward. Tight right turn on to Northwest Avenue lead them to a tight fit under a pedestrian bridge that stretched over the street between two large red brick buildings. Past the fire department with the large doors open and fire, trucks visible just inside. The large truck past Peach street to bring them to a stop in front of their destination. A large red brick building complex with tan trim and green roof with a wall made of tinted glass spaced by ornate columns. The El Dorado police department would be their home while they stayed in this dead town.

  5 Truck pick up

  Mr. Pennington sat in the old apartment showing signs on the walls of the peeling paint removed in places. With his feet up on the desk talking on a satellite phone.

  “Yes ma'am she is ruining everything we are trying to do here,” Mr. Pennington said into the phone.

  “No ma'am I am not overstating what Captain Jones is doing. Right now she is out somewhere trying to track down the convoy for personal reasons,” Mr. Pennington looked frustrated as he listened on the phone.

  “No ma'am, we have no proof that it was him that shot the arrow,” he replied rolling his eyes.

  “Yes ma'am he does use a bow but unfortunately that was after Commander Hudson made it clear anymore interference in the town and he would personally take action.”

  Mr. Pennington started drumming his fingers on the desk as he continued to listen to the response.

  “Yes ma'am it could have been him giving us as a warning. No ma'am, I am not sure it was not that is the problem her personal vendetta is causing problems here,” the frustration on Mr. Pennington's face grew as he listened to the response.

  “So let me ask you a question ma'am. If we were to arrest him for looting do you think they would convic
t him in this town,” Mr. Pennington nodded his head.

  “Yes ma'am you could send a court order to have him move someplace else for trial. I would ask you to think how that would affect our credibility here and elsewhere,” he responded. As a slight smile crept over his face as he listen.

  “Yes ma'am, you're welcome to send anyone you like here,” he stated as his fingers started drumming on the desk again.

  “I just hope they will do a better job than Captain Jones has. Or we add this town to the long list that refuse to work with us. Yes ma'am I will keep you informed,” Mr. Pennington said hanging up the phone.

  Putting the satellite phone down on the desk. Staring at it for a second then rolling his eyes. He ran his hands through his long blonde hair before standing shaking slightly before taking on the casual demeanor his loud Hawaiian print shirt would suggest.

  The convoy stopped in front of the police station in the fading light of the late afternoon. Commander Hudson stepped down from the cab of the truck using the step in the chrome gas tank. As the self-defense force personnel started getting off the bus forming into prearranged group. Under the commanders direction one squad moved into the building. While another moved to surround the city workers for protection. As they started pulling chain-link fence and poles off a truck. Dan took this time to slip from the sleeper compartment and out the open door of the cab of the baby blue Peterbilt with Katrina. He stepped out on to the step set in the gas tank bringing himself level with the seat that Katrina now occupied. Dan knew there was a concern look on his face.

  “Are you still all right with this,” he asked

  While he was looking at Katrina, he directed the question at Mabel as she sat behind the steering wheel of the massive truck. Katrina turned and looked at her mother, who nodded her head yes.

  “Let me grab my pack,” she said on seeing this and turned to pull a battered brown backpack from behind the seat. Dan moved off the step so she could come out the open door handing out her pack. He almost dropped the pack fumbling with it struggling with the weight.