Transformation: Zombie Crusade VI

by Vohs, J. W.

  Luke wondered how they’d learned to be quiet, and he imagined duct tape and gags during the first days of the outbreak as Billy and his helpers struggled to keep all of these kids alive. When he considered the commitment, vigilance, and gut-busting work that had taken place here since spring in order to reach this point, a new definition of heroism took root in his mind.

  Julian finally interrupted his thoughts, seeming to read his mind. “Will you tell your general what Billy and the guys have done for us here?”

  Luke nodded. “I sure will, Julian, but where is Billy? I’d like to talk to him.”

  As if on cue, Jerome opened a door to a second stairwell and revealed a scruffy middle-aged man with carrying a rifle. The new arrival handed the weapon to Jerome, and the two whispered back and forth for a minute before Billy walked over to Luke and stuck out his hand.

  “Hello, Captain Smith, I’m Bill Raker.”

  Luke shook hands and instantly got a good feeling about the former teacher. “Thank you for killing that big alpha up on the highway; I was in a tight spot. And please, call me Luke.”

  “Well, Luke, I was actually surprised that you didn’t run or look particularly worried when that pack confronted you out there. What was your plan?”

  Luke shrugged. “After they got the drop on me, I figured my only hope was to play it cool and try to kill the leader first. Other survivors say that packs sometimes run off if you kill their alpha.”

  Bill didn’t look convinced. “Can’t say I’ve seen that happen before today. Nor have I ever seen a pack hesitate before attacking; those creatures were checking you out for some reason.”

  Luke smiled slightly before pointing toward his face. “Maybe it was these fancy glasses.”

  Bill smiled warmly. “Yeah, maybe they saw their reflections and were hypnotized by their own good looks.” He peered at Luke quizzically. “How are you seeing anything in this dark basement with those things on anyway?”

  “They’re not as dark as they look, but I get bad migraines. Light, even bright moonlight, can set them off. Been like this since I was a kid.”

  “You’re still a kid,” Bill observed, though not unkindly. “I think it’s called photophobia.”

  “Photo-what?”

  “Photo-phobia—sensitivity to light. That’s the name of the condition you’re describing; that’s why you need those sunglasses all the time.”

  “Well,” Luke responded, “now I have a scientific term to give people when they ask about the glasses.”

  Bill nodded and asked, “Boys told me you’re a captain with the Army?”

  “I am,” Luke replied. “My unit is paddling up the Red River, trying to organize all the settlements so they can better defend and feed themselves. Most people started hiding once their ammo ran out, and our job is to train them on how to fight without guns and get out into the surrounding areas so they can salvage the supplies they need.”

  “Had any luck?”

  “More than I could have imagined. My wife and I left Shreveport with two lieutenants in mid-December. Since then, we’ve found sixteen communities on the river and the nearby oxbow lakes. We’ve recruited and trained over two hundred new soldiers, and left about four thousand folks behind in a lot better shape than we found them in. So yeah, the mission is a great success so far.”

  Billy looked impressed if a bit skeptical, so Luke asked about the school.

  “Well,” the older man explained, “I’ve been a special education teacher here at this boys’ school for twelve years. The district knew that some infected people were in this area, but they didn’t close schools. Anyway, I think it was maybe the second day after Washington fell, and the busses dropped these kids off in the morning just like usual; but they didn’t come back that afternoon. Texarkana was going crazy by nightfall. No busses came for the kids; just a few parents showed up and took their children out into that madness. Within a few days, it was obvious that nobody was coming to help us.”

  He motioned toward the students in wheelchairs. “Most of my work here has been with children who have moderate to severe disabilities. Three of my student helpers decided to stay here instead of trying to make it home, but my aides, and everyone else I’m aware of, tried to get back to their families. We’ve been surviving here since then.”

  Luke had seen some of the best and worst that humans could do when their worlds crashed down around their ears, but as he thought about what Billy and his students had accomplished over the past six months, he actually fought back tears.

  The veteran teacher was well-attuned to teen emotion. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on Luke’s shoulder. “You alright, son?”

  After a slight hesitation, Luke answered. “I’ve been fighting all over this country since day one of the outbreak. I never once thought about what happened to the folks who were essentially helpless. You’ve kept all these kids alive. . .”

  “I’ve had a lot of help,” Billy offered.

  Luke looked at the youngsters who’d escorted him to the school in an entirely new light. “You men have my respect and admiration.”

  They looked embarrassed, but Jerome tipped his head in a gesture of thanks. Luke’s gaze again turned to the children around the stove. “You guys have enough to eat?”

  Billy shook his head. “We’re scrounging now, and we’re not finding enough. That’s why we tried to signal you up on the highway yesterday. Your soldiers still nearby?”

  “Oh yeah, I can just move faster and more quietly without them. Are you guys ready to get out of here?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Luke sighed. “Civilization has completely collapsed, and it’s world-wide. No governments, no services, no nothing.”

  “But you’re from the Army, right?”

  “The Allied Resistance Army, just communities of survivors fighting together under mutual aid agreements. The U.S. Army was almost completely destroyed, and what’s left of it is under the control of a Hitler-wannabe.”

  Billy sat numbly on an overturned five-gallon bucket. “So, there’s no hope?”

  Luke cocked his head with confusion. “We’re still alive aren’t we?”

  “How are we gonna live through the winter? How will I keep these kids alive? We’re already on the verge of starvation.”

  Luke pulled up another bucket and sat down across from the exhausted teacher. “Listen, there are walled-settlements along the Red River all the way back to Shreveport. My fighters are preparing for a battle here; we’re going to clear the area of infected. Once that’s accomplished, we can give you an armed escort downstream and hook you up with one of the communities that have figured out how to make a life for themselves. They’ll help you.”

  Billy liked the sound of that. “What do you need me to do?”

  Luke smiled. “Double your rations for the next day or two, and close this place up tight until I return for you.”

  Julian had been listening, and he looked from Billy to Luke. “Please, don’t leave us, Captain.”

  “Hey, I WILL be back for you,” Luke assured him.

  Even Billy looked dubious, but he tried not to show it. “I have two bullets left to cover your retreat back to the highway; there’s no way you’re gonna get back to the river by yourself.”

  Luke seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, then he stood up and pulled his axe. Without a word, he spun and tossed the weapon toward a wall more than fifty feet away. He threw the axe so hard everyone momentarily lost sight of it in the gloomy basement, finding it again only after the blade came to rest within an old oaken support post. Luke patted the quiver hanging over his shoulder and held his bow forward for emphasis. “You wouldn’t believe how fast and accurately I can use this thing.”

  “But today, up on the highway. . .”

  Luke smiled as he slowly shook his head. “I do appreciate your gesture of support, but if that small pack had attacked I would have killed every one of them in less than ten seconds. By the way, most peopl
e have taken to calling the well-developed infected ‘hunters’—at least most people where I come from.”

  Billy stared at Luke for a few seconds, trying to figure out what all the young officer before him might be capable of; he found it hard to believe that anyone could be so unconcerned about facing a pack of flesh eating monsters. “Whatever you call those creatures, they’re deadly as hell. If you plan on playing hero in the upcoming battle, will you please tell your people we’re here before the fight, just in case?”

  “Sure I will; we won’t leave you guys behind. No matter what you hear or see out there over the next day or two—and we’ll be making noise to pull the hunters away from the city—just stay hidden down here until we come for you. Deal?”

  Billy still wasn’t convinced that Luke would be willing and able to return, but he finally sighed and held out a hand once again. “Deal.”

  Luke left Texarkana an hour later than he’d planned, but he was certain that he had a much better understanding of the enemy situation in the area than he’d had before he left camp at dawn. Billy and his students had explained the conditions in the city with a clarity that impressed the experienced fighter. Determined to maintain a continuous watch from the top of their building, the youngsters had kept meticulous notes on their observations since the outbreak began. They were certain that there were no more than a few hundred hunters in and around the city, a number that had been dropping steadily since the end of summer. The influx of refugees had completely stopped over the past few months, and there simply wasn’t enough protein to be found in Texarkana to support a large number of packs. One fact they were all certain of, however, was that at least three times that number of infected were still haunting the grounds of the depot a few miles to the west. People from all over the area had continued to pour into the Army base in spite of warnings spreading among survivors of the dangers waiting there. Though the monsters were finally moving out into the nearby rural areas, the observers were certain that those creatures continued to include the city and depot in their wanderings.

  Luke suspected that Texarkana and the Red River Depot were outliers according to the new normal in the world; there were too many hunters in this area for the pre-virus, human population to have sustained them for this long. Another factor to consider was that the city hadn’t suffered much fire-damage, especially when compared to other cities he’d seen or heard about from survivors. He could see why so many refugees had tried to flee to this area: there was little food to be found in the Texas countryside. Of course, the people themselves had become food, but apparently new waves of migrants hadn’t been deterred by, or simply didn’t know of, the fates of those who’d arrived earlier. Now, the region had settled down. The hunters were being forced to feed off of domestic and wild animals, and the people who’d survived had learned the hard way how to avoid being eaten.

  He figured that his force could handle at least five hundred hunters from an exposed position, but if they could fight from prepared defenses they could stop a lot more than that. He was developing a mobility doctrine that would eventually allow his soldiers to fight in the open and avoid being trapped behind walls or forts, but they were far from ready to pull off something like that right now. As far as clearing the depot was concerned, there were two main problems to overcome before they could occupy the Army base for salvage operations. First, they had to lure as many of the infected into a pitched battle as possible, and second, they had to kill most or all of them. The morning’s encounter had reminded him that hunters had been learning the prudence of retreat when confused or afraid. He’d seen this type of behavior before and would almost certainly see it again; the creatures wouldn’t press a hopeless assault to the bitter end as they did in the early days, unless the Blackhawks were pushing them. Sometimes the retreats were welcome, but here his troops needed to keep the monsters from escaping.

  CHAPTER 11

  Luke returned to camp by mid-afternoon and found Gracie, Zach, and Maddy in the “headquarters tent,” conferring with five platoon leaders. Gracie made eye contact with Luke as soon as he walked in. She then addressed the group, “Let’s go over this one more time, from the beginning, now that Captain Seifert is here. Then we can break for a late lunch.”

  Luke listened carefully to their plans while saying little. He appreciated the fact that the platoon leaders were taking an active role in hashing out the details; he needed his subordinates to develop experience and confidence. “I like the idea of using air-horns from motorcycles; if we set a few of those off right by the depot, even the hunters in Texarkana will be able to hear them.” He added, “From what I saw of the highway to the bridge, it shouldn’t be very hard to make sure there’s a wide enough path for the bikes. Do you know where to find air-horns around here?”

  “The Super Walmart,” Gracie replied. “The engine noise from the motorcycles may be enough without them, especially if we whoop and holler and ride around in circles, but I’m not sure we can trust that. We need to be as loud as possible, so air-horns are perfect, plus I don’t think looters would’ve had much interest in them.”

  Luke nodded. “I think finding what we need to prep the bridge and being able to get everything into position quickly will be the trickiest part.”

  Zach had been uncharacteristically quiet until he asked Luke, “So how do you think we can make our plan better?”

  “Post plenty of your best troops where the cabs meet the trailers: those are your weakest points. The fighters you have in those places need to be competent with more than pikes and spears; they’ll probably end up using swords and knives by the time this is over. Oh, and make sure your avenues of retreat are open and easily accessible.”

  “That’s like telling us to wear raincoats when it’s raining,” Gracie observed sourly.

  Luke agreed, “Gracie, you and the others are obviously ready for this; you don’t need me to tell you what you already know.”

  “We already have a couple scavenging teams working close to camp.” Maddy volunteered. “The platoon leaders are giving people their orders, and we’ll make as much use of today’s daylight as we can, but first can we please eat some lunch? I’m starving.”

  Gracie sighed. “Fine, but let’s meet back here in half an hour.”

  Luke didn’t have much to say as he and Gracie dined on MREs in their tent; he couldn’t stop thinking about the boys hiding out in the school basement. For an instant, he wondered what happened to the thousands, perhaps millions of people who’d been completely unable to defend themselves against the flesh-eaters. But he knew what happened to them. The possibility of the kids he’d met this morning being eaten alive after managing to survive for the past six months was nearly unbearable.

  Gracie noticed Luke’s preoccupation and sensed that it was about something beyond the approaching battle. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. “What’s worrying you?”

  “I’m not worried; I’m just thinking about some of the people I met in Texarkana.”

  Gracie looked concerned. “You trust the intel they gave you, right?”

  “Without a doubt,” Luke replied, “and I made them a promise that we’d evacuate them as soon as we clean-up the infected around here. You should meet them Gracie, most of the kids are disabled, some pretty severely, but—”

  Gracie cut him off. “Why are you building this army again?” She didn’t want either of them to get distracted by sentiment right now. She was determined to keep Luke focused on the approaching battle and the bigger picture.

  Luke frowned in frustration. “Don’t patronize me.”

  That wasn’t the response Gracie wanted. She didn’t try to hide the anger creeping into her tone. “Just answer the damn question.”

  “You know the plan,” he retorted.

  “Yeah, I do. And we both need to stay focused on it right now.”

  Luke decided not to be baited into a disagreement; he forced himself to calm down. “Please just get to your point.”

>   “We’re about to draw thousands of hunters down onto two hundred and fifty rookies who are to become the core of an army we’re building to liberate the world, and you’re all distracted by a handful of survivors in Texarkana.”

  “Hey,” he protested, “the plan you guys made is solid, we all know it. The students I met this morning are completely helpless.”

  “If they’re so helpless, how have they managed to stay alive for this long? Do you think they’ve just been lucky?”

  Luke was surprised to realize that Gracie had a good point; the survivors in the school had been far more than lucky. Luke smiled slightly and acknowledged, “I see what you’re saying, but I thought you were supposed to be the soft-hearted one. I guess we’re starting to rub off on each other.”

  “Aw, I’d like to take credit, but you’ve always been a sucker for kids and animals.” Gracie scooted over next to Luke and leaned against him. “Just try to stay focused on the battle right now.”

  Luke put his arm around Gracie. “What’s your plan for me, specifically?”

  “The troops will feel better if you’re somewhere they can see you.” She offered.

  Luke shrugged. “I’ll hook up with the troops who’re supposed to close the trap; they’ll probably end up hard pressed at some point.”

  “Good idea” she agreed, “at least then you can give the pretense of command.”

  “Pretense of command?” In one fluid move, Luke pinned Gracie to the ground. She squirmed as he tickled her. “Who’s in charge here?” he teased.

  “You’re . . . not . . . staying . . . focused . . .” Gracie wheezed between peals of laughter.

  Luke stopped the tickling, but he kept her held fast to the ground. “I don’t think I heard you say who’s in charge here yet.”

  “Oh, whatever,” Gracie conceded breathlessly. “You’re in charge. Now can we get back to work?”