Apocalypse Atlanta (Book 1)

by David Rogers

  “I’m with you sarge.” Whitley said immediately. “Safety in numbers, and you’re experienced.”

  “I’m not sure anyone can honestly say they’re trained for what we’re stuck in the middle of.” Peter said, but other heads were nodding in agreement with Whitley. Roper, Swanson and Smith primarily. Mendez gave a single jerky nod, almost a mirror of what Crawford did.

  “I’m willing to sit things out here for the time being.” Hernandez spoke quietly, his tone even and unchallenging. “I’m not saying for how long, but at least until tomorrow. And even if I decide it’s time to head out, I won’t fuck with the fence.”

  Peter nodded. “I appreciate it.” He ran his gaze over the rest of the Guardsmen, the ones who hadn’t indicated what they were thinking.

  “Oh fuck.” Oliver said. “Look . . . okay, fine.” He swallowed visibly, then gave a shaky laugh. “I’ll hang in here for the time being. At least today, unless something happens that changes circumstances.”

  “I’m all for getting out of here as soon as we can.” Barker said as Oliver laughed weakly again. “But I’m not eager enough to not think it through. There was too much running and not enough planning last night.”

  “So you’re with the sarge?” Johns asked.

  Barker shrugged. “Like Hernandez said. I’m a friendly, but our paths might split at some point.”

  “Fair enough.” Peter said. “So, here’s what I think we should do for the next couple of hours. Let’s check some of the other units for things that we can use, food, weapons, and especially any way to communicate out.”

  “So what are we looking for?” Smith asked. “I mean about the comms.” he added hastily when eyes turned to him. “Food, weapons, sure I get that. I ain’t an idiot.”

  “Jury’s still out on that.” Crawford muttered. “Grab any cigarettes you find, I’m down to my last pack.” she said a little louder as Smith gave her a dirty look.

  “Check any phone we find, mobile or land line. If one’s working, we’ll use it. I don’t know how likely we are to find one, but a satellite phone or a ham radio is probably what’s most likely to actually help us.” Peter said.

  “Computers.” Mendez said abruptly.

  “What?” Swanson said.

  Mendez shrugged. “Laptops will still work, at least if they’ve still got batteries. Some of them might have an aircard or something.”

  “Worth a shot.” Peter said. “I figure we can start with the other units in this building, then maybe check some of the ones immediately adjacent if things are going well.”

  “Okay, so by fireteams?” Hernandez said, rising and slinging his M-16 across his chest.

  “Unless someone wants to sit out.” Peter replied. “And I want to keep at least one team here in this apartment to hold the fort and act as a ready reserve in case someone has trouble.”

  “Trouble?” Crawford asked moodily.

  “Like we open an apartment up and find a bunch of zombies or something, right?” Swanson said, and Peter nodded.

  “No sweat.” Mendez said. “A few we can handle.”

  “Then let’s get to it.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Thirteen – What should we do

  Jessica

  Shouting drew Jessica’s attention from the laptop screen. She looked up, saw her mother giving her the same expression of confusion, and quickly set the laptop on the table next to the recliner before jumping to her feet. She couldn’t help but move quickly, hastily, as she crossed the living room and went through the entry hall to the front room.

  Candice had paused her game, but was still on the floor in front of the television when Jessica appeared. “Mom, what’s that?”

  “I don’t know Candy Bear.” Jessica said, forcing a slight smile. “Let me take a look.”

  “I want to see.” Candice said, scrambling to her feet as Jessica bent next to one of the windows and lifted back the curtain. Jessica said nothing, her eyes roaming across the cul-de-sac, searching for the source of the fuss. She saw nothing at first, then, as she bent and leaned to her right to look up the street as best she could, saw several people out in the yard in front of a house.

  “Jessica, what’s wrong?” she heard her father ask from behind her.

  “I don’t know yet Dad.” Jessica said without looking away. “A few houses down, across the street. There are people out in their yard.”

  She heard the deadbolt on the front door being thrown back, and straightened in alarm. “Dad, what are you doing?” She asked as she stepped back so she could see around the little bit of wall between the front room and the door. Her father paused with his hand on the security latch, glancing at her.

  “Seeing what’s wrong.”

  “Dad, just leave it alone.” Jessica said quickly. “You know what’s going on.”

  “Yes, which is why I need to find out if it’s happening here.” William said calmly, sounding for all the world like he was mentioning that he was going to head out to the driveway in pouring rain to fetch a forgotten bag in the car. Jessica opened her mouth, but Candice spoke up from behind her.

  “Mom, why are they hitting that woman?”

  “What?” Jessica said, whirling around. Candice was kneeling on the couch, leaning over its back with both hands holding the curtains apart so she could peer out through the window. Jessica bent down and looked, and sure enough, she saw a female figure on the ground in the house’s yard with three people gathered around, kicking at her savagely. A few yards away from that, a woman was standing bent over a child who was holding his arm and crying.

  She heard the door open, and before she could say anything, saw her father emerge onto the front porch. As he walked to the driveway, she saw Brett’s pistol resting in the holster on her father’s belt. Jessica bit her lip as William paused on the driveway and shaded his eyes, looking across the street. She looked back to the altercation.

  She didn’t know those people, they had moved in two months ago and Jessica had been too busy with the kids’ summer activities, and then the back to school fuss, to go over and say hi. Her inclination was to stay in the house, to leave them to deal with it. For the problem to stay away, far away. She considered feeling ashamed of that impulse, but Candice’s breathing next to her managed to drive that reaction away. But her dad was heading for the altercation . . . and she couldn’t bear to let him go over there alone.

  The beating the three people were administering to the woman on the ground was brutal, as they kicked her over and over in the head and torso. But it didn’t seem to be having much of an effect. As she watched, she saw one of the attackers suddenly stop kicking, as the woman grabbed his foot. He staggered back, hopping on one leg, as he tried to kick her free. She continued to hang on, and Jessica blanched when she saw the head start raising up to the man’s foot.

  “Candice, go sit on the couch with grandma.” Jessica said as her father started across the street.

  “But–” Candice began, but Jessica stood back from the window and grabbed her daughter. Swiftly she pulled her off the couch and set her on her feet, leaning down to look her square in the eye as she kept hold of Candice’s shoulders.

  “Go sit with grandma, now. You’re not in trouble, but I need you to go sit with grandma.” Jessica said in her sternest mom voice. “Go, now.”

  Candice gave her a look that was a shadow, a flashback, of some of the expressions Candice had worn yesterday at the schools, and Jessica gave her a quick smile. “You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

  “Mom.” Candice said as Jessica released her.

  “Go sit with grandma.” Jessica repeated again, pointing without looking as she turned to the front door.

  “Mom, be careful.” Candice said from behind her.

  Jessica went outside and pulled the door firmly shut behind her. Her father was across the street by now, walking quickly and only one house away from where the confrontation was happening. Jessica saw the man who’d been grabbed suddenly yell,
now in pain rather than anger, and topple over backwards. The woman he’d been kicking had her face pressed up against his leg. Jessica broke into a run, feeling her hair stream out behind her as she sprinted to join her father.

  William stepped onto the lawn while Jessica was still running. The shouting started to resolve into words instead of mere volume.

  “Get her away from him!”

  “Let my daddy go!”

  “Get her off! Get her off!”

  The child, and the woman clutching at him, were both screaming; the woman backing up and taking the child with her as she stared in horror at what was happening. The two men who were still on their feet were leaning over and tugging at the woman, one of them trying to pry her hands loose while the other sought to get a grip on her head. The man on the ground was gasping in pain and trying to scrabble backwards on one leg and his hands.

  “Get back from her.” Jessica heard her father said in the same voice he used when he was on the floor of his furniture factory. It was his boss voice, the one that said he was in charge and wasn’t interested in hearing discussion.

  “The hell I will, she’s trying to eat my brother!” the man who was struggling to pull the woman’s head back.

  Jessica saw her father unsnap the top of the holster, and his hand drew the shiny pistol forth. “If you want me to help, get back off her.” William said again.

  The man tugging on the woman’s hands glanced back. His eyes fixed on the gun, widened, then he was grabbing instead at the other man. “Joe, move.” he said as he pulled the man back a step.

  “Jesus Jerry, you lost your mind?” Joe said as he tried to break the hold and dive back down on the woman.

  “He’s going to shoot her, fucking move.” Jerry said, his voice strained with the effort to keep a hold on the struggling Joe.

  Joe finally looked at William, paled a little, but stopped fighting. They both backed off, and William raised the gun in both hands as he stopped about a yard away. Jessica came to a halt behind her father as he aimed at the woman, afraid to say or do anything that might startle him. A second that seemed to stretch and stretch passed, as William held the gun pointed at her, then he pulled the trigger. Jessica jumped, unprepared for the incredibly loud bang as the pistol fired.

  She saw the woman on the ground jerk as a hole appeared in her back, jagged and gaping. Bits of . . . things . . . flew out from her body, but she didn’t release the man on the ground. The gun fired again, and a second hole appeared an inch away from the first. The wounds overlapped a little, and Jessica put her hand to her mouth as she realized she was looking inside the woman’s body. There was something white visible through the holes, and Jessica blanched when it occurred to her it was probably the woman’s spine.

  “Shoot her again!” Joe said angrily.

  “Get her off, oh God!” the man on the ground gasped as sweat beaded his face and neck. “She’s chewing on my leg.”

  William moved closer, standing just out of arm’s reach of the woman as she clung to the man’s leg with her head making a little bobbing movement. The pistol boomed again, and a third hole appeared in her. This one was on the back of her shoulder, and Jessica saw that hand suddenly fall from the man’s leg as he kicked and struggled. Her father walked quickly around the man, to his other side, and aimed again. He shot, hit her in the back again, frowned and re-aimed, then shot a fifth time. This time he hit the other shoulder, and the second arm went limp.

  “Let’s pull her off him now.” her father said, holstering the pistol and moving quickly to get a hold of her feet. Joe and Jerry darted forward, and the man on the ground emitted a blood curdling yell of pain as they dragged the woman backwards. Jessica saw something stretching from his leg to the woman’s mouth, then abruptly snap. She flopped and wiggled as she was hauled across the grass, away from her victim, and Jessica saw she was chewing on a piece of something still in her mouth.

  “Get him and get clear.” William ordered, stepping back and drawing the gun again. Jessica looked around, seeing a few faces in windows, one person about six houses down watching from their front porch, but that was it. She saw the two men get their hands under the wounded one’s arms and pull him away, near the driveway. Jessica looked back to the confrontation, realized she was sort of in front of her father, and hastily stepped to the side as he looked at her and started to motion. He nodded as she moved, waiting for the others. As soon as they were two yards away, William pointed the gun at the woman on the ground.

  Jessica flinched as her father fired. A gout of dirt and grass erupted from the yard next to her head. He fired again, and the woman’s head shattered in a spray of bone and . . . other things. The woman finally stopped moving and just lay there, face down in the yard with fist sized holes in her and a rather large crater in her skull. Jessica looked away quickly from that, not interested in the details. Her awareness expanded away from her father, the gun, and the body on the grass.

  The man was gasping in pain, and Jessica saw blood, a lot of blood, coming from his leg. He sat up and reached for the leg of his jeans, tugging it back. There was a jagged oval bitten out of the flesh of his calf, just above the ankle, that was bleeding heavily. Jessica felt light headed, but she grabbed Joe, who was leaning over the man he’d said was his brother. “Do you have a first aid kit in the house? Bandages? Anything?”

  “I don’t know.” Joe said tightly as he stripped his t-shirt off and started whipping it into a strip. “I don’t live here.”

  “I’ve got one in the trunk of my car.” Jerry said, standing up and digging in his pocket.

  “Drew.” the man on the ground gasped as his brother started tying the t-shirt around the hole in his leg. “I’m fine, how’s Drew?”

  Jessica looked up at the woman, who had stopped screaming and was standing there with her arms squeezing the boy to her possessively. The child, he looked to be about five or six, was still crying, and Jessica saw his left arm was bloody below the elbow though she couldn’t see the wound. It might be under his hand, which was clamped around his forearm tight enough that she could see his knuckles were white. She went over to the pair, seemingly not noticed by the woman, who kept her eyes on the man on the ground. Jessica knelt down in front of the boy.

  “Hi, is your name Drew?” The boy nodded, his eyes wide through the tears streaming down his cheeks. Jessica smiled and gestured to his arm. “You want to let me see where you’re hurt?”

  “Okay.” the boy quavered, his voice thin and hesitant as the tears dripped down his cheeks. His fingers loosened, and his hand moved to reveal a wound almost identical to the one in the man’s leg. It was in the meaty part of his upper forearm, on the outer edge. Jessica’s smile faltered a little when she saw how deep it was, there were what she was sure were the bones of his forearm visible at the deepest part of the . . . bite mark. She glanced up at the woman, who was drawing breath in heaving gasps.

  “Ma’am.” Jessica tried, not knowing her name.

  “Fisher.” her father said from behind her, and Jessica glanced at him quickly. He nodded to the porch, and Jessica looked that way to see a small sign mounted on the wall next to the open front door that read “The Fishers”. The sign was shaped and painted to look like a fish, a happy fish. Cute. Jessica looked back to the woman, trying again.

  “Mrs. Fisher? Hello, Mrs. Fisher? We need to get your son bandaged, he’s bleeding.”

  The woman’s eyes stayed on the body on the lawn, looking past Jessica with a fixed gaze. Jessica waved her hand in front of her face. “Hello, Mrs. Fisher?” No response. Jessica tried snapping her fingers, and got only the briefest of blinks.

  “Joe, go get Maggie and Drew inside.” the man on the ground gasped as Jerry returned from his car with a white plastic box labeled ‘First Aid’ with raised red letters.

  “But Jim–”

  “Go help your nephew.” the man said sharply. “I’m fine.”

  “Actually, this looks pretty bad” Jerry said as he peered unde
r the edge of the shirt on Jim’s leg.

  “Help me up, let’s get out of the yard before you realize how much you’ve forgotten from that summer of lifeguarding.” Jim said with a brief, a very brief, chuckle. “Ow, ahhhhh.”

  Joe was approaching the woman and the boy. “Maggie, we need to go inside. Drew needs that arm looked at.”

  There was no response. Jessica stood up and put her head near Joe’s ear. “She’s in shock.” Jessica whispered. “I think. You might have to carry her in or something.”

  Joe frowned at her, then glanced back to his sister-in-law. “Okay, Maggie. It’s time to go inside.”

  Jessica held her hand out to the boy. “Drew, you want to come inside with me while your uncles . . .” she glanced quickly at Joe, who nodded, “. . . your uncles help your dad up?”

  “Yes.” the boy said, his voice a bit stronger. Jessica wasn’t sure how it was going to work, she couldn’t tell how tightly Maggie was holding onto her son, but Drew was able to duck under his mother’s arms and step away.

  “Good.” Jessica said, putting her hand on the shoulder of his uninjured arm and turning him gently. “Right back inside then.” She guided the boy up the two steps to the porch, then through the door. The house was identical to hers save for the furniture and paint and carpet, which didn’t surprise Jessica. Most of the neighborhood had been built to the same plans by the same developer about twenty years ago.

  She looked to the right, and sure enough they had arranged their front room as a sort of second living room. “Why don’t you sit down over there, on the chair.” Jessica said, pointing him at one of the upholstered chairs. Jessica could hear the television on in the other room, saying something about air travel being curtailed.

  As he sat down, Jessica heard heavy breathing, and some grunting, behind her. Turning, she saw her father and Jerry coming through the door, Jim’s arms draped over each of their shoulders as he hopped painfully between them on his good leg.