She nodded her head.
“I mean it, no other choice.”
“I got it, last resort.”
The group swept down the snowy hillside and over to the back of Hank’s building. They all stayed low, below the windows and out of sight of potential occupants. Tom slowly rose and peeked into one of the windows. Rows of narrow bunk beds faded into darkness, impeccable green blankets stretched tight over each one.
Tom slid back down. “Barracks. Don’t see anything.” Tom whispered.
“Movement was in a far window. “Hank said while pointing out toward the front of the building.
Nodding his head, Tom led the way around the corner of the building, staying tight to the wall and below the windows. He had his bow out with an arrow notched and ready as he eased up to a short set of steps in front of the door. Bear and Hank were right behind him with their crossbows at the ready. Tom clipped his bow on his back and ducked low right in front of the door. A quick nod from the others and he slowly turned the doorknob and eased it open.
There was a tense moment of silence.
Hannah and Logan crouched down in the back and watched the building next to them, as well as the hillside behind. The woods sat eerily quiet.
Tom pulled the door all the way open, letting the light spill in through the opening. Both Hank and Bear brushed past Tom, sweeping in with their crossbows raised. Flashlights clicked on, illuminating the interior. The stark glow hit on a hideous face.
The man, dressed in camo fatigues, had a wicked wound running from his scalp, down across an eye, and onto his neck. He had clearly been dead for weeks, if not longer. The black, crusty blood was dotted with green mold. His eyes locked on Bear and he opened his mouth. Bear let a bolt fly, ending the shriek before it began. The shot was perfect, striking the undead in his good eye socket. Camo dropped to the wood floor with a thud.
Bear started over toward the body.
“Hold up.” Tom said. “Till we know more, let’s stay back.”
Both Hank and Bear took several steps back, covering their mouths with their sleeves.
Tom could see a length of barbed wire wrapped several times around one of Camo’s legs and the other end wrapped around one of the metal bed legs. Large lag bolts secured the bed to the floor. Who had done this and why, were questions that lingered in their minds. Before backing out of the building he took a quick survey of the barracks and found it contained nothing other than bunk beds and the single undead. Tom followed the others out to the snow covered ground.
“What was it?” Hannah asked.
“Sergeant ugly chained to a bed.” Hank responded.
“What?”
Tom described Camo and the wire.
“Now what?” Logan said.
Tom looked at the main building that towered over them. “We’ll find answers in there.”
“Hate leaving these unchecked.” Bear said while sweeping a hand out at the surrounding buildings.
Tom nodded in agreement. “I know it, but it would take forever to go through them all.”
Hank looked up at the sky. “Not long it’ll be dark. Creep factor is going to go way up.”
“Good point. Let’s sweep through buildings, find a clear one, and hole up for the night. Hit the main building at full light. Murphy’s law and all that.” Tom said.
“Murph and I are well acquainted.” Hank grumbled.
Chapter 6 - Murphy
The next building they entered was a parts storage, just the type of structure they were looking for. There were several rows of shelves with neatly organized numbered boxes. A quick glance through the boxes revealed that they were various vehicle parts. Most were unrecognizable and probably specific to the helicopters and various military vehicles. No people, living or dead.
“Make sure to brush all the snow off your gear. May feel cold now, but our body heat will warm this place up, melt the snow, and get all your goods wet.” Tom said to the group.
It only took a few minutes for all of them to get the powdery snow off of everything. In the meantime, Tom and Hannah rifled through their packs to pull together a quick meal. Staying fueled up was a necessity, both for potential battles and to keep body temperature up.
There were several windows along the side walls and one along the back that stared out at the white landscape and nearby buildings. Before the sun dropped all the way below the horizon they used anything they could find to cover the windows, not wanting to draw the attention of any unwanted guests. With the outside light blocked off, the room was shrouded in darkness. They sat in a circle on the floor, huddled around a single crank lantern, eating various forms of packaged foods.
“What are we going to do when all the food is gone?” Hannah asked.
“We have several days’ worth.” Bear replied.
“No, I mean all the food…everywhere.”
Tom chuckled, “We get back to our roots. Hunt, fish, grow things.”
“I’m gonna die.” Bear said.
“Yeah, me too.” Hannah said with a laugh.
“At least we will starve together.”
They sat in a circle bantering back and forth as the sun sank, blanketing the base in black. Tom and Hank told stories of their troubles getting out of Portland as well as the run-ins they had with Lincoln and his gang. Bear had heard of Lincoln and spat at the mention of his name.
“Dead? You’re sure?” Bear asked after Tom finished the story.
“Oh yeah.” Hank said. “His pillaging days are over.”
“What about you guys…how did the compound get started?” Tom asked.
Hannah looked to Bear , but when he didn’t say anything she responded, “I wasn’t there in the beginning. I made it out of Seattle with a couple others.” She looked up at the ceiling, thinking back to those days. “Turned out I had gotten out with the wrong people. They fought with each other…tried to… tried …”
Bear spoke up. “She made it to the compound, alone. Miles and the council let her in.”
“The council…who are they?” Tom asked.
Bear and Logan shared a quick glance and then he said, “Our leaders. Miles is on the council. They started the compound…saved us all.”
“What’s the— “Tom started to say, but was interrupted by a sudden pounding at the door.
The loud booms echoed through the room. All at once they stood, reaching for weapons. The pounding continued. The door knob rattled and twisted, but the door’s deadbolt held.
Tom eased toward the door with his bow drawn.
“That’s going to wake the dead.” Bear said.
“The dead woke a long time ago.” Hank whispered. “This is going to get them moving.”
Just as fast as it started, the pounding stopped. Only an eerie silence remained. Then there was a voice, muffled and unintelligible. Tom took a hesitant step toward the door. Bear raised his crossbow and moved in close to the wall. A set of light taps sounded from the door, rhythmic in nature. Tom looked over at Bear quizzically. They both moved closer to the door, while Hank filled the gap between them a few feet back.
Bang…Bang…
The raps at the door became louder and more insistent.
“I heard talking.” Bear said.
“Me too, they’re not infected.” Tom responded.
“Let ‘em in?” Hannah whispered from the back.
“No way.” Logan said.
Bear stared through the wall. “They’re going to eff this all up.”
Hank lowered his crossbow a bit. “He’s right, if they keep up all this racket it’s gonna get ugly. We’ll find out just how much of a ghost town this joint is.”
“We let them in…we have to be willing to put them down if needed.” Tom said, looking back at the group. Hannah and Hank nodded their heads. Logan took a step back and raised his crossbow. Bear remained stoic beside the door. Tom stepped up close to the door and gave it a hard knock.
The banging stopped immediately. Muffled whispers.
<
br /> Tom leaned up close to the door, wanting to make sure they were uninfected. He could hear people talking on the other side.
“They’re going to let…told…hurry or…them.” Only bits and pieces of the conversation could be made out.
Tom whisper-shouted, “How many are you?”
A girl’s voice came back, “Three.” A brief hesitation. “Please.”
An infected could be heard shrieking in the background. Through the door it was difficult to make out how far away.
The voice came back, as well as another, panicked, “Help us, please…their…she’s sick.”
Tom instinctively took a step away from the door at the word “sick.” He looked over at Bear, who was shaking his head. A look back at the others got him the same result, more shaking heads. Nobody wanted sickness in the room with them.
A man’s voice on the other side of the door, “On the road…my wife…please let us in.”
Silence.
Nearly shouting, the man said, “Please, they’re out here. My daughter’s only fourteen.”
A brief silence and then more pounding on the door. A scream. “Help!” The girl screamed.
It was gut wrenching. Hannah turned from the door, unable to even look at the wooden barricade, as if it was a window to the terror outside. Hank moved toward the nearest window, even though it sat on a wall that didn’t look out front. He debated pulling back the blanket covering it, but quickly decided against it.
“Be quiet!” Tom whisper shouted.
The pounding continued. Angry growls from outside.
“Kill the light.” Tom whispered.
Logan dropped to his knees and snapped off the tiny LED lantern, enveloping them in darkness. Shrieks and growls betrayed the interior’s silence.
There was a terrified scream outside the door. The boom of a shotgun caused Tom to jump. The pounding at the door started up again, both angry and panicked. From the sounds they all could envision the scenario that was playing out just beyond the door. Even in the pitch black interior they all stood staring at where they knew the door was. More screaming.
The boom seemed to shake the entire building. Everyone was stunned, not immediately realizing what had happened, and then it dawned on them. One of the outsiders had used the shotgun to blast the door, blowing apart the lock and handle, sending the door slamming up against the interior wall across from Bear. Faint moonlight spilled in the opening, highlighting the trio in silhouette.
With the silence already broken, Tom clipped the bow to his back, drew a MAC-9, and a flashlight. With a click, bright light lit up the three faces that were racing inside the room. A young girl, tears streaming down her face, was being rushed in by a man and woman.
Thwak
Bear was tight to the wall just to the side of the door. The sudden light and movement had caused him to panic, letting a bolt fly from his crossbow. The daughter had made it inside, while the mom, following close behind, was in at just the wrong moment. As the door was swinging back the bolt caught the woman in the neck and pinned her to the wood. She hung there, grotesquely, blood oozing from around the fiberglass shaft.
“Nooo!” Tom shouted too late.
Not ready for her to suddenly stop, the man ran into his wife’s back, spun sideways and crashed to the floor. His shotgun went skidding across the wood ahead of him. The daughter continued to race toward Tom, oblivious to what had happened right behind her.
“Get down!” Tom shouted.
Hank raced forward and scooped up the shotgun.
The father’s eyes glanced up at Hank and then back at the door, and his wife. He got to his hands and knees, and scurried back to the door.
Bear looked up at the man while he finished loading another bolt in his crossbow. A look of concern crossed his face. He was unsure what the husband was going to do.
They were all surprised when the husband moved behind the door and leaned into it. The wife’s shoes skidded on the wood as he shoved the door all the way closed. Dark movement could be seen through the volleyball sized hole left from the shotgun blast. With a loud boom a demented slammed into the door, causing the man to stagger back a step before he rushed up against the door again. He leaned into it with his shoulder.
“Someone help.” He said through gritted teeth.
Tom holstered his MAC-9 and started towards the door, but was stopped when the teenager ran into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She was sobbing and mumbling unintelligibly. Hank rushed past the two of them. Hannah moved up next to them with her rifle raised.
“Get off of me.” Tom yelled to the girl. He knew she was terrified and he felt bad right after he said it.
The door shook and a disgusting ripping, gurgling noise could be heard. Hank was just coming up next to the man when the door shuddered from another demented hitting the other side. Both men shoved up against the door, holding it closed.
With an angry growl Hank said, “Nice to meet you.” The man said nothing in response.
Bear clipped his crossbow to a belt ring on his hip and grabbed the rifle from his chest sling. He held it at low ready, unsure what to do.
Hannah shouted at him. “Help me with this.” She said as she moved over to a giant, metal tool locker.
Tom shook off the girl and raced over to help Hannah. The two of them were having a tough time getting the heavy unit to budge until Bear showed up and added his considerable muscle. The metal legs scraped across the floor, leaving white gashes behind. Hank and the man peeled out of the way as they shoved the locker into place. The door continued to rattle as the demented tore into the body hanging from it. Angry growls could be heard as well as the ominous huffing that signaled to others.
“One of them is calling.” Hannah said.
“Plenty of snow...can’t be many in earshot.” Bear replied.
Logan came walking out of the shadows of the back shelving. He clutched his crossbow to his chest, bolt pointed at the ceiling, “What are we…can they…” He stammered in a shaking voice.
Hank shook his head. “Suck it up buttercup.”
Chapter 7 - Decisions
“Our food supplies are diminishing much too rapidly.” Miles said while sitting tall in his chair, legs crossed tightly.
“I know...that is what I’m saying. Now that the snow is mostly gone we need to start foraging. Get people out there going through buildings, hunting, and scavenging. Build our supplies back up.” A man with a full, white beard said.
“It will never be sustainable. Supply is going to continually be reduced. We must reduce demand if we are to maintain an acceptable level of comfort.” Miles responded in a soft tone.
The three other council members had been sitting quietly at the long table, listening to Miles and Ron argue back and forth. One of them, a younger man in a torn sweatshirt, leaned forward in his chair. “Just what are you saying Miles?”
“We all know what I am proposing. Nobody wants to express it vocally. Cull the herd. Something I brought up last fall…before winter sapped us of resources. We need an analytical approach to determine drains on the system.”
Ron’s face reddened. “Then what…kill the drains? Let’s not tap dance around what you are proposing.”
“Kill? How barbaric. For the betterment of the community as a whole we would have the few asked to leave.”
This entire conversation was making Ron sick to his stomach. “And when they won’t?” He asked.
“I will present it to them in a manner that leaves…uh…little choice.” Miles responded with a belittling look. He looked at the others at the table. “Shall we cast votes?”
All of them glanced around at each other, and then began nodding their heads. Miles grabbed a small box from the edge of the table, made a mark on a slip of paper, folded it neatly, and dropped it in the box. Afterwards he passed the box to Ron and said, “Standard process…checkmark for approval and an ‘x’ for disapproval. In this case, approval is to move forward with improving communi
ty functionality by reducing demand on supplies.” He looked at each council member and then added, “Disapproval is to keep status quo and deal with dwindling supplies.”
Ron wanted to laugh out loud, but knew Miles would be furious. On top of that, the other members seemed on board with the plan. As disgusting as it was, he would side with Miles, if for no other reason than to avoid his wrath.
Less than an hour later, Ron and his fellow council members stood behind Miles while he addressed the compound’s members.
“My fellow community members, I want to first thank you. We have come so far together. None of us could have done it alone, and it was on the backs of our neighbors, our friends, and our loved ones that we made life better. Not just better, but a place we can truly call home.” He had a huge smile on his face as he looked over the gathered crowd, spending time to look as many in the eyes as possible. They were all nodding their heads and looking to one another. Many shook hands and patted one another on the shoulder.
He let the smile slowly fade from his face, taking on a serious look. With a slow shake of his head he began again, “But we deserve better…you deserve better.” He let them all nod their heads in agreement. “There are some within these walls that wish to bring us down.” Dead silence. Everyone seemed shocked, slowly looking from face to face and then back at Miles. “That’s right! They are killing us…killing you…killing your loved ones.” They began mumbling to one another. Some shook their heads. Others only stared ahead.
Miles let the words fester for a few long minutes. “Look around you. Does the person next to you work as hard as you do? Do they deserve just as much as you? Have they put into the community as much as you have?” He waited, watching them look around at one another. Some began to argue, while others looked down at their own feet, hoping not to be noticed.
After several minutes, Miles held up his hands, trying to quiet the crowd. “The council agrees with you. There are some that need to move on. Some that are not pulling their weight. Take Isaac as an example. He killed to get what he wanted. He was desperate. He was greedy. These people need stopped and removed from the community before it’s too late.” He looked back at the other council members and then turned to the crowd. “We will take this on. We will make this a better community. We will do what needs done. Thanks.”
The Demented Z (Book 3): Contagion Page 4
