Detroit Reanimated

by Michael Halliday

  “This is your second chance,” Eric told Mark. “We’re going to have runners come back and forth, and if we hear that you’re doing the same things as your friend there, you’ll join him.”

  “I promise,” Mark said. “We’ll make you proud.”

  That was the beginning of Midtown.

  “This was an important event,” Mandy said when Evan got back into the SUV.

  “I hope we can trust this guy,” Evan said. “You ok back there, Rheana?”

  “I’m fine,” she replied. “I can’t believe they just shot the man.”

  “They had to,” Evan told them. “He was a sick man.”

  Evan saw from the corner of his eye that Mandy was nodding at his response.

  “I’m fed up with sick men,” Mandy said.

  Indianapolis and Fort Wayne were the final two cities to contend with before the convoy reached the Michigan border.

  “We might want to set up camp before we pass Indi,” Eric said over the radio. “Night is almost here.”

  “I’d feel better going through there with some rest,” Sergeant Covington replied from the rear of the convoy. “We’ve made great timing. The civilians are probably spent.”

  “Ok, let’s camp off exit 243. Turn off there.”

  A chorus of “yes sir,” responded to Eric’s order. The lead trucks turned onto the ramp, plowing through abandoned vehicles.

  Evan glanced at the crushed vehicles as he passed them. He thought about the execution, and the realization that Eric meant business. Evan accompanied the military, not the Peace Corps. Eric’s men and women would keep them safe, even if it means exacting justice.

  The camp was built on a field next to a vacant A-framed café. The Humvees were used to build a wall around the tents that were pitched. Two squads were selected to watch the camp in shifts. Another squad was sent out to scope the area, including the café. Eric didn’t want to take any chances.

  “We’re almost there,” Evan said when he found Eric alone in his tent.

  “Almost home,” Eric replied. Evan’s face must have shown confusion. “I was born and raised in Troy, so Detroit is partly home to me.”

  “No wonder you’ve been so insistent on going there.”

  “I’m an American, and I want to help create a better country. I have no ambition on a leadership position other than the one I have now. This mission is important to me.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Evan said.

  “What about what happened in St. Louis?” Eric asked.

  “What about it?”

  “I see,” Eric said with a lopsided grin. “You see the logic in what we did.”

  “I applaud what you did,” Evan told him. “I just wish it happened with Edward before we lost two good men. A friend is now widowed, and a boy is without his father. Mary lost the man she had a crush on.”

  “That would be regret after the fact,” Eric said. “Be careful Evan. There’s a difference between the two events we’re talking about. Edward hadn’t shown that he was a threat. Nikki killed him.”

  “She’s busted up over that,” Evan said. “She blames herself.”

  “It was a freak incident. It wasn’t her fault.”

  “I tried telling her that,” Evan said. “’I’m a neurosurgeon,’ she told me. ‘I know how the human brain works.’”

  “You’ll have to find a way to convince her,” Eric said sternly.

  Evan nodded continuously at what the major told him.

  “I’m going to sleep,” Evan said. “It’ll be good to see my city tomorrow.”

  “It will be,” Eric said in agreement. “We’ll have to steal a boat and check out the lake. Maybe do some fishing.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Evan said, giving Eric a smirk. “Goodnight, Major.”

  “Goodnight, Mr. Carter.”

  Before he left, Evan saw Justin lying in a sleeping bag reading the comic he had given the boy before they left. Justin glanced up at Evan with a thankful look.

  “Goodnight, Justin.”

  “Goodnight, Evan,” Justin replied.

  Evan noticed Mandy by the bus with Nikki. She gave him a familiar look. It was the same look Colleen had given him when she was ready to make love. He gave her a soft smile. Mandy went back to talking to Nikki. He hoped she understood the look as a postponed approval. He simply wasn’t ready to start sleeping with anyone so soon.

  He turned his thoughts to something else, as he was beginning to get aroused by the thought of sleeping with Mandy. Tomorrow he would be home. He wanted to see Sarah and Tracy more than anything. He went into his tent and fell asleep.

  Chapter 11: Cameron’s Lessons

  Alex Devrois once had a great life in the town of Kearney Nebraska. He was a longtime member of the Kearney City Council and a high school football hero. He made good money with his condo and duplex business. A progressive democrat and hater of everything God, he felt blessings are man made by hard work and dedication in doing what you love. He had an extremely attractive girlfriend, who was the third since last month, and after last night, the second to carry his child. If he had his way, he would make yet another woman his tonight. He felt as if he owned Kearney.

  But all of that ended a week ago for Alex. He saw one of his lovers, Heather Eitrick walk down the street with an odd limp and an even odder way she held her head.

  “Heya Heather, you doing ok, baby?” he asked Heather. “Can I help you with something?”

  She just kept going. He thought she had joined the other Kearney heroin users. He got closer and called her again, louder. She stopped and turned around.

  “Jesus, what the hell happened to you?” Alex asked. “You need to get to the hospital!”

  Her right arm was bent awkwardly. The entire forearm was swollen, almost like a balloon. The right side of her face was caved in. Blood ran like rivers down her face. Her remaining eye appeared yellowish and unreal. She reached out with her good arm as if she was begging for help, but her ghastly moaning should have told him otherwise.

  “I’m here, Heather. Let me help you,” he said when he approached her.

  Alex wanted to take her to his vehicle to get her aid, but she growled at him and bit deep into his chest. He fell to the ground and she ripped flesh away with her teeth and nails. A series of gun shots ripped through her body. Her reaction was to approach her attacker with renewed interest.

  Her shooter, a man wearing only briefs by the name of Desmond McDaniel, held a handgun. The shots hadn’t stopped her and she continued to move toward him. He unloaded the entire clip on her without any bullets hitting her head. He turned to run and tripped, and two more reanimated people came at him. He tried to get back up, but Heather was on him. She bit into his throat and tore it away.

  Alex would rise three hours later, while Desmond reanimated at an hour and forty-seven minutes after he died.

  Nearly a week later, blood sprayed from the impact wound caused by Daniel’s blade. Alex Devrois collapsed to the ground with a massive gap cutting through his forehead.

  “Good, that’s virtually all there is to it.” Cameron said. “It’s sharp enough to let you just guide it, and let it do its work. Matt, you take that one struggling to move,”

  Another undead male had a massive abrasion on his shin, but his reanimated state rendered him unperceptive to most wounds. Matt checked his surroundings before he moved forward, as Cameron had instructed. The biter growled and swiped at Matt as the boy approached. Throwing a strong jab at the biter’s head, Matt pierced the reanimated man through the mouth. The biter fell to the ground in a heap.

  Off to the west a massive storm system approached. Cameron was sure it was going to be severe.

  “Look there,” Cameron said. “There are the other two buses. That storm behind us looks bad. We should get inside. Quickly now, and make sure you check your path. The last thing we need is one of us getting bit on our ankles or shins."

  Cameron wasn’t just talking about prone biters. Rattle
snakes were numerous in the area and the heat of the day made them more active. Matthew and Daniel followed each instruction Cameron gave them with no argument or hesitation, but he did encourage them to ask questions.

  “We’re gonna see some of that,” Daniel said of the incoming storm.

  “Are they tornadic?” Matt asked.

  “Man, I hope not,” Daniel told Matt. “I’ve been in too many tornadoes in my life. They aren’t fun.”

  “It’s not just tornadoes you need to worry about,” Cameron pointed out. “There are straight-line winds, massive hail and flooding rains. I’ve also been in quite a few storms. The wind is already picking up.”

  “Guess living in Denver has its perks. We just get a lot of snow,” Matt said.

  They trudged through knee high grass toward two Teschner buses that were used to get the Sioux to safety. They were parked by the L&S Industries building not too far from the airport and National Guard armory. The building they sat in front of looked as if it was deserted. Cameron looked around the lot and picked up a stone.

  “Bomb’s away,” Cameron said with a childish grin. He threw the rock at a loading garage.

  The stone clattered to the ground. Cameron waited for a minute, and then threw another.

  “He taku hwo (what was that?),” said a voice from the roof. An old man and an old woman appeared to investigate the racket. They peered down at Cameron. The elderly man held an old hunting rifle that he owned for decades.

  “Hau, aké iyúskinyan wancinyankelo (Hello, I'm glad to see you again),” Cameron said to the old man

  “Cameron? Tanyán yahi yélo,” the old man said, quite delighted to see his great-grandson.

  “Now that is cool,” Daniel said of the rifle-toting man.

  “Trust me. He is better with that rifle than most of our military sharpshooters. He’s fired that gun since he was half your age,” Cameron said. He was not joking.

  “What’s his name?” Matthew asked.

  “Ask him,” Cameron suggested.

  “Hello, sir...” Matt started before Cameron stopped him.

  “Hiya, say it in Sioux, do you remember?”

  Matt thought for a moment.

  “Hau, uh, taku eníciyapi hwo,” Matt asked the old man.

  “Ah! You can call me Howard, and how about you, young man?”

  “My name is Matthew Carter,” Matt said, “Pilamayaye (thank you).”

  “You’re welcome,” Howard gave Matt a thumbs-up, and asked Daniel for his name next.

  “I’m Daniel Paulson, pilamayaye,” Daniel replied.

  “Iyúskinyan wancinyankelo (I'm happy to have met you),” Cameron said quietly to the boys.

  “Iyúskinyan wancinyankelo,” Matt and Daniel both repeated the words louder.

  A Caucasian man opened the garage door and walked out towards Cameron.

  “You just brought my great-grandfather great honor,” Cameron said to his two students. “That’s Steve coming now.”

  Steve appeared to be around Cameron’s age. He was lithe and much shorter than Cameron. He was also handsome, with short dark-brown hair and brown eyes.

  “Waste, misukala, I can’t believe my eyes! How did you find us?” Steve asked Cameron as they hugged each other as if they were brothers. He then shook each of the boy’s hands.

  “Hey brother, it’s good to see you. We were in Fort Sill when Joey showed up,” Cameron told Steve.

  “Perfect. I needed you the most anyways. What’s up with these two though? Is this some new growth strategy for AIM? Steal white kids and convert them to the cause?” Steve Joked.

  “It worked with you, didn’t it? It’s a story for another time. The older one is Daniel Drake. He’s a surviving refugee from Oklahoma City. The younger one is Matthew. His adopted father is the leader of our group.”

  “So you boys lost your parents then?” Steve asked Matthew and Daniel.

  “Yes sir,” both of the boys responded simultaneously.

  “Waníyetu nitóna hwo,” Steve asked Matt, who thought about the words for a minute, but couldn’t make it out. He looked at Cameron for help.

  “He asked how old you were.”

  “Oh, I’m twelve-and-a-half,” Matt said.

  “I figured as much, you remind me of a lot of myself at your age. You’re even the same height,” Steve said.

  “You must be fourteen?” Steve guessed with Daniel.

  “Yes, sir, I turned fourteen a month ago.”

  “You both are quite brave. Nice weapons. Mind if I take a look?” Steve asked Daniel, who handed the ‘death dealer’ over. Steve studied it and tested out the weight. “It’s light as hell. Let me guess, your design, Cam?”

  “Yep,” Cameron said proudly. “I fashioned them to be like glaives.”

  “Hey, Howard, you should come down. It looks like we’re about to get round two in less than hour or so,” Steve said to Cameron’s great-grandfather. “We had some pretty vicious storms yesterday that dropped baseball size hail and wind that screamed.”

  Cameron and Daniel helped Howard and Sally down, who thanked them and walked inside.

  “How many people do we have left?” Cameron asked.

  “Thirty, we had a bad night a couple nights ago. We had stopped outside a gas station called Fat Dogs near here and decided to camp nearby at an old abandoned farmhouse across the river. It was a bad idea. A hoard of those things came out from Kearney. I got the kids on the bus, and a few from the group managed to get them moved off, but we lost twelve people. We still can’t find Gregory. Luckily none of the children were hurt. We have all sixteen safely inside.”

  “He didn’t comeback yet?” Cameron asked. “He left before I did.”

  “Odd,” Steve said. He gestured in frustration toward the first bus. “The axel cracked on that bus.”

  “I don’t think we need to worry about that. Let’s get inside, and we can talk.”

  “Your father and Patrick are here, but Frannie was killed,” Steve said behind Cameron as they hurried toward the door.

  Cameron stopped in his tracks at the mention of Frannie’s death. He had known both Patrick and Frannie since he was eleven years old. Bruce Talltree came out of the building with a grand hug for his son. He had a noticeable limp as he walked.

  “Thank the Great Spirit you’re ok,” Bruce said. He looked over his son, and hugged him again.

  “We better get inside,” Cameron said, and ushered Bruce inside.

  After shutting the garage door, Cameron greeted everyone inside. Bruce went to get Patrick, who was grieving for the loss of his wife. Matthew wandered over to a group of Sioux kids. Another person that Cameron knew well, Sandra Whitehorse, was looking over the kids and kept them entertained.

  “So what did you mean, about the bus?” Steve asked.

  Cameron took out his set of keys and showed him the key ring for the armories. He spotted his long-time friend Patrick approach and waited to answer until after he gave Patrick a brotherly hug.

  “Do you know what these are?” Cameron asked.

  “They’re keys, but for what?” Patrick asked.

  “There’s a National Guard armory near here, isn’t there?” Cameron asked.

  “Are you serious? Do you know you could be shot for having those?” Steve said.

  “A major gave them to me,” Cameron said.

  “And he would be shot for high treason,” Steve said. “That’s if there was still a military chain of command. Any idea if there is any?”

  “Fort Sill is the safest place out there right now. We’re in far rougher shape than I thought, but a group is planning on retaking Detroit.”

  “Detroit?” Steve asked. Outside the wind was howling. “I think we should get downstairs.”

  Everyone took the suggestion seriously, and about ten minutes later, the town was struck with eighty mile-an-hour straight-line winds and softball-sized hail. Forty miles to the northeast an EF3 tornado dropped to the ground that ripped apart farmland and a barn.
>
  In Kearney, a few roaming biters were struck down by hail. A large tree fell onto a house, completely demolishing it. The storm lasted nearly twenty minutes, with torrential rain fall and numerous bright lightning bolts, and deafening cracks of thunder that arrived right behind the flashes.

  Once the storm was gone, they emerged from the warehouse to see the damage it caused. There were still many large hail stones left, and distant thunder filled the air.

  Cameron joined Steve after having a troubling discussion with Bruce and Patrick. They were thrilled to see Cameron alive and well, and with his arrival, they both felt it was time to split off and head to the Talltree farm in Wyoming, despite Cameron’s objections.

  “I think it’s safe now. Let’s go check out that armory. I’m actually excited about seeing what we can find,” Steve said.

  Cameron laughed at Steve’s excitement.

  “You look like a kid going to a candy store,” Cameron said.

  “Maybe I am,” Steve said.

  “Don’t forget, I’m twelve,” Matt said. “He’s more excited than I am! I do want a silenced M-16 though, with an attached light, or maybe even a laser targeter.”

  “So I’ll have two kids in a candy store,” Cameron said. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Three,” Daniel said. “I want a Humvee.”

  “What we need to find is long-range military-grade radios and silencers. We could also use some high-powered rifles. That was what Evan requested.”

  “If we’re going to take a city over that has thousands of those things, then we’re going to want to find as many quiet weapons as possible. I agree with the silencers.”

  They trudged through waist-tall grass toward the armory when a man in a blood-covered uniform hobbled to meet them. Both of his arms were gone below his elbows with a few strips of hanging flesh. His face was gaunt and deathly pale.

  Daniel was designated the long ranged specialist with his compound bow. Daniel notched an arrow and aimed it at a wandering guardsman. He released the nock point. The arrow flew at the guardsmen’s face, which impacted right below the nose. The head drove through the brain stem, and the arrowhead exited out through the back. It stopped and stood for a half a minute as coagulated blood oozed from both entry and exit points. The guardsman collapsed as if he was made of jelly. Daniel went to the corpse to retrieve the arrow. He caused even more damage to its face by ripping it out.