by J. W. Vohs
Many handshakes and hugs were offered by the people from The Castle who’d come out to meet the returning expedition, but there were no smiles or phony expressions of sympathy between those who’d stayed behind and the fighters who’d travelled west; everyone present witnessed enough deadly battles that mutual understanding of what had been endured during the mission to clear the tracks was a given.
As the last of the Indiana soldiers climbed aboard the trucks and headed back to The Castle, Carter led Jack over to where the Utah force was finishing loading their wounded into vehicles that had been parked near their boxcars. A few men were directing Sal’s volunteers to a pile of boxes labeled “Redders,” and the remaining soldiers stood in a loose formation with Hyrum Anderson pacing in front of his troops. Jack shook the westerner’s hand and apologized, “Sorry for the wait; I’ll stay here with you and your people until we have transport for them. As soon as the rest of the vehicles get back we’ll move your remaining soldiers to our compound.”
Hyrum immediately expressed his appreciation, “That’d be great. We’ve come a long way to meet you folks.”
Jack nodded, “Well, we’re damn glad to finally meet you too. I have billets prepared for you and your people inside our walls, and I want all of you to get settled in and grab some sleep before we talk about anything else. All right with you?”
Hyrum let out a long, exaggerated sigh of relief, “Best idea I’ve heard since leaving Utah.”
As Jack was speaking with Anderson, Carter finally took a moment to share a long hug with Deb. She knew his moods, and she could tell that he’d been traumatized by the events of these past few days. He was moving much slower than normal, as if every bone in his body ached, and he had a haunted expression in his eyes that made her want to sob. She stayed strong for her husband, but Deb realized that the veteran’s heart was hurting badly now that he was finally safe. The reality of the losses and trauma he and the soldiers under his command had endured was hitting home, and a psychological hell was replacing the physical one. She knew that most experienced soldiers possessed an inexplicable ability to set aside their emotions and complete the missions they were engaged in, regardless of the hardships they encountered, but she also understood that there was a time of reckoning they all faced at some point after the fight was over.
The instant Deb took a step back from her husband, Jack was at Carter’s side. He tossed an arm over his best friend’s filthy shoulder and led him toward the waiting Jeep while Deb held the rangy Kentuckian’s hand on the other side. Jack had immediately seen the haunted expression on his buddy’s face; he remembered witnessing the same expression after difficult missions in Afghanistan, but he also knew that nothing could be done to address the situation until all of the soldiers they were responsible for were taken care of. As soon as they were out of anyone else’s hearing Carter quietly confessed, “I lost some good folks out there, Jack; I’m sorry.”
Jack just gave the exhausted fighter’s shoulder a squeeze and ordered, “You head back to The Castle with Deb. Clean up and get some rest. You can fill me in on what happened after dinner tonight, but I know the basics already. And we both know you have nothing to apologize for; you got more people back alive than anyone else would’ve done if they had been in command. We’re damn lucky we got you back at all.”
Carter just shook his head in response, but Jack wasn’t going to let his buddy go without hearing something positive about the trip. “Did the MREs constipate you this time?”
Carter stopped his slow shuffle toward the vehicle and narrowed his eyes at Jack. “If they did it got balanced out by the opposite effect of seein’ a few thousand of them hunters congregatin’ by the tracks—I’m as regular as rain in monsoon season, thanks fer askin,’ but I’m damn sure I’d be lookin’ at a shit-covered mess if our situations were reversed.”
“Oh really?” Jack fired back, “When’s the last time you looked in the mirror, hillbilly?”
For most of the afternoon, Vickie, Sal, and Doc Redders unpacked and organized their new supplies. There were several defibrillators and dozens of extra batteries to go with them. Piles of IV tubing, cartons of needles, boxes of surgical instruments, and an assortment of laboratory equipment were strewn about the infirmary’s storage room when the normally low-key Redders let out an enthusiastic whoop.
“I see you found the special delivery,” Vickie observed dryly.
“How on earth did we end up with a thermal cycler? Wait—some of this stuff is labeled . . . This whole pallet is seriously from the University of Utah’s genetics lab?” Redders was almost giddy.
“Funny what people can salvage in a zombie apocalypse, isn’t it? I guess a few of the leaders out there figured they should take anything and everything from the universities and hospitals.” Vickie explained, “They couldn’t spare a lot of pharmaceuticals, but they were more than happy to pass on these sorts of things.”
As Sal’s volunteers finished up with the deliveries to the infirmary, several members of the Utah expedition showed up on orders to have their injuries officially checked out. Sarah arrived to help with the unpacking, but she ended up tending to the newcomers while Redders and Vickie hastily organized the much appreciated clutter.
Throughout the late morning and afternoon, the members of the Utah expedition were fed, cleaned, and settled into their quarters. By early evening, Jack and the leaders at The Castle gathered in the dining area for a modest dinner with Hyrum Anderson and his primary officers. Jack wanted to hear everyone’s opinion on the new developments regarding the behavior of the infected, as well as the appearance of the helicopters. After more than a three-month absence of any government forces, these choppers might or might not represent official American forces. After listening and asking questions for nearly two hours he asked, “John, you led us through the wars a decade ago; I really want to know what you think about all of this.”
The ex-Ranger officer cleared his throat and explained, “I believe that discovering the purpose of these choppers needs to be at the top of our priority list. I don’t have any proof that the birds near these huge gatherings of infected aren’t just gathering intelligence, figuring out where the monsters congregate, but the fact that we’ve never seen them anywhere before, and now we’ve seen them together several times . . . it seems to indicate more of a connection. I believe that we need to find those choppers, and until we do, we would be wise to consider whoever’s flying them to be hostile. If I’m wrong about that, our people are safe and I look stupid. If I’m right and we do nothing, more survivors are gonna die.”
Jack seemed to be studying his shoes for a long moment before looking up with a scowl and declaring, “I agree with you. I’m not saying that we fire on these choppers or anything like that, but for the time being we need to assume that if they’re spotted there are lots of hunters nearby. I also think we should try to avoid being seen by the pilots. I know they’ll find us sooner or later if that’s their goal; we can’t hide The Castle from aerial observation. But, I think it would be a good idea to let our people know that they should try to conceal themselves if they see one of these birds.
“I shared everything we know with Stephen Carlson this afternoon when I let him know the train had arrived. They’ve been receiving reports of helicopters from some of their outlying areas, but haven’t had any run-ins with the massive packs you guys encountered in Cheyenne and Illinois. He thinks that maybe since they’ve already cleared out hundreds of thousands of infected from the area west of the mountains there just aren’t enough of them left nearby to round up, if that’s what the choppers are doing. He also told me that Hyrum’s troops would help us fight if we’re attacked here. I assured him that we hadn’t seen any helicopters or large groups of hunters, but he’s worried that the population density around here would allow a horde to gather together much more quickly than out west. Based on what you’ve told me about what happened along your route here, I’m inclined to take his warning seriously. The guar
d teams are watching the sky as well as the ground, and I’ve sent out long range scouts along the primary routes leading to our area.
“I believe that the main reason John’s advice should be followed is because if these people were friendly they could figure out a way to communicate with us. I realize that they may be afraid of infection down here if they’ve been in hiding up till now, but they could drop leaflets, use loudspeakers, hell, they could even wave. But they aren’t doing anything to indicate they’re friendly, while at the same time large groups of infected eventually appear on the ground beneath them. If they represent the government, I think they’d make it obvious—it’s not hard to stick a logo on a chopper. Hell, I’m not sure I’d trust them even if they were painted up like American flags.”
He raised an eyebrow and took a long look around the room. “Can anybody offer a good reason why we shouldn’t consider these choppers dangerous?” He paused for a moment, but the room was silent. Jack’s voice echoed through the room as he commanded, “Inform everyone to do everything they can to avoid detection by the helicopters. And tell them to be prepared to move out on short notice. Also . . .”
The door to the dining area flew open. A breathless Deb leaned in and barked, “Jack, we need you at the gate right away; some survivors from Dekalb County have been brought in by the guards.”
All of the leaders quickly filed out of the room and followed Deb from the house and toward the gate, where they found a group of at least twenty men, women, and children standing beneath one of the spotlights, anxiously peering about with dirty faces and frightened eyes. The RRT had kept the refugees on the outside of the gate, assuring them that there were snipers with NVGs covering the growing darkness behind them. A small, wiry-looking woman holding an AK-47 and wearing an assortment of handguns, knives, and ammo-pouches was standing at the front of the small band of survivors, so Jack stuck his hand over the gate and introduced himself.
The woman shook hands with no hesitation and explained, “I’m deputy Marie Seville of the Dekalb County Sheriff’s Department. The folks behind me are friends and family I’ve been in hiding with since we lost control of the county. Back when this all started we heard that you had a compound down here, but then folks started saying that you were overrun by thousands of infected a few weeks later and wiped out. Glad they were wrong about that. We’ve been laying low outside of Auburn, staying out of sight as much as possible except for scavenging abandoned homes at night for food and supplies. We were doing all right for ourselves, but what we saw today convinced us to get the hell outta our area and find a new spot to hide. We were gonna look for a place to hole up in Chain-O-Lakes until we ran into one of your guard stations and they offered to bring us here. I’m sorry to bother you this late, but this place may be in danger and I felt like I had to warn you before we moved on.”
Jack recognized the name, but quickly decided to proceed slowly with these obviously frightened people. “Well, if you heard about us back in the beginning you know that we welcome all survivors. We’ve been establishing a safe-zone of farm houses for miles around so if you aren’t comfortable in The Castle we can find you another place to stay. We’ve found other groups of Americans fighting back, including about a million folks out in Utah. We have an expedition out on Lake Erie right now helping a small community get ready for winter and set up radio communications. You’re safe here. You can come in, or stay outside if you like, but we can get you food and we have a few doctors in case any of your people need medical attention.”
The woman look back at her followers and quietly said, “We’ll come in; I need to talk to you in private right away.”
Ten minutes later Jack, Carter, Tina, and Hyrum were sitting in the command center with the tough-looking woman, who told them that she and her two children had sought refuge on her ex-husband’s farm outside of Auburn during the early days of the outbreak. They all listened attentively as the officer shared her story. “ Listen, someday I’ll tell you all about how we’ve managed to survive this long, but right now I have to tell you something that I know is gonna sound crazy, but all of our lives depend on you believing me.”
Jack took a sip of his coffee and waved for her to go on.
She lowered her eyes for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and continuing, “Auburn and the surrounding areas are dead zones; as far as we could tell we’re the only survivors in western Dekalb County. I hope some folks are still hunkered down in their houses and farms, but we haven’t seen anyone in a couple of months. There’s a lot of infected up there, thousands of ‘em.
“Anyway, this morning one of the kids came downstairs yelling that they’d seen a helicopter in the distance, so we all ran up and looked out the windows for ourselves. Two choppers flew by about a mile east of us, coming out of the south. Didn’t you see them down here?”
After looking around and seeing everyone shake their heads she went on, “Well, I could see them with my binoculars, and they started circling Auburn, which is about five miles away from where we were hiding. I thought they were from the government and they would land in town, but they just kept circling. They left for a while and came back, probably after refueling somewhere. After the second time they did that I made my way through a woods and some corn fields to a neighbor’s silo, where I could view the situation from a higher observation point.
“I couldn’t believe what I saw; on the western edge of town was the largest pack of eaters I’ve ever seen, I mean, thousands of them. They were just milling around, some of them looking up at the choppers once in a while, but most of them were just shuffling back and forth or lying on the ground. After another hour or so the helicopters flew off at a slow speed toward the west, and all of the creatures started walking in the same direction the choppers flew. They weren’t heading directly at our farm, but the group was so large I wasn’t going to risk the possibility of some of them finding us, so we grabbed our gear and headed out.
“That was about three hours ago, so if those monsters are still headed in this direction they’re probably less than ten miles away. This is a great place you have here, but most of that horde are the fast-ones, and your walls aren’t going to keep out thousands of those creatures. Do you have a backup plan?”
Jack turned to Tina, “I know you and the people you took west are tired and sore, but we need to act on this right now. I want half the RRTs out on the roads between here and Highway 3. Hyrum, I know you and your soldiers have been through hell getting here, but you better put them on alert. Carter, have Rickers’ squad man the wall-towers.”
Andi and Deb had been monitoring the radios and field phones while following the nearby conversation. As the men began moving out, Jack turned to the women, “Call all of our people together inside the walls with full fighting gear. Tell them they have half an hour.”
He looked back at Mrs. Seville, “We’ve been overrun here before, and the house and barn held. Make sure your people know that these buildings are safe. We’ll lead the infected away from here and fight them in Chain-O-Lakes. If you’re willing to fight with us we’d be honored to have you, otherwise you can stay here.”
She hesitated for a brief moment before proudly declaring, “Eight of us will fight with you. We don’t have the armor or weapons your soldiers have, so I’m gonna trust you to use us as wisely as possible.”
Jack nodded, “Don’t worry about that; we’ll gear you up, and your people will be fighting from elevated, palisaded platforms over marshy ground, interspersed with my fighters.” He nodded at Deb who was already making a list of gear to get for the newcomers. He turned back to the deputy, “Okay, get your children and non-fighters into the house—you’ll see where ours are, then find me or Carter out in the yard and we’ll head out to our positions.”
She stood and asked, “Do you plan on trying to hold this place at all?”
Jack shook his head, “Not this time. We’re already blacked out and everyone here will stay in the basements and keep quiet. Hop
efully, any of the infected who come sniffing around will keep right on moving. Besides, we have a plan to lure large numbers of hunters away from here and fight them where we can’t be trapped again.”
A week after the Battle of the Castle Jack had convinced his people to fortify the Chain-O-Lakes state park as they were taking control of the surrounding countryside. As the name implied, a series of small lakes connected by streams and channels dotted the landscape. The park was nearly six miles long, and two miles wide, with the ground not holding water or swamps dominated by hardwood-covered ridges. The defense plan revolved around the waterways, with bonfires and other diversions designed to draw large numbers of infected into a fishhook-area of land that sat inside four lakes and the low, marshy ground connecting them. Once The Castle’s fighters had the monsters concentrated in this kill-zone, they had a variety of death-dealing implements available for use against the flesh-eaters.
A dozen catapults, divided into batteries of four and placed behind prepared fighting positions, sat ominously waiting next to massive piles of fist-sized rocks that had proven to be more than capable of smashing the bodies of the infected, regardless of where the creatures were on their evolutionary ladder. Over a hundred homemade cannons surrounded the area, primed with black powder and loaded with assorted pieces of scrap metal. The great majority of the soldiers would be fighting from wooden platforms protected by short palisades, all located in the middle of the swampy areas connecting the lakes. After the projectiles had done their deadly work, the fighters would have the advantages of height and water from which they could employ their medieval weapons against the infected. The defensive works were an ongoing project, and everyone involved wished they had more time to work on them, but with a battle looming over their heads they were all quite happy to have the fortifications and weapons-systems they had managed to already prepare available for what promised to be a difficult fight.
