She heard the rumble of engines in the distance. The headlights of two trucks and a Humvee pierced the murkiness as they hurtled down the runway toward Ivy and the men. Without waiting for them to arrive, they unloaded the cargo.
"What should I do?" Ivy asked.
"Stay out of our way and pay attention. If you see anything that doesn't look right, let us know right away."
Ivy was about to protest but she thought better of it. She couldn't help feeling insulted by his condescension. She was way more capable than she looked. He got a pass this time. Next time, she'd tell him to fuck off.
The trucks pulled around and backed in. The Humvee pointed its lights toward the cargo bay so there was more light to work with. A man jumped out of the passenger seat and went to Kowalski. They shook hands.
"Hey, LT, any issues?"
"This place is a ghost town. We grabbed the trucks with no problem. I did a sweep of the area before you landed, and it was all clear. Our surveillance drone shows that the roads immediately surrounding here are clear but sat images show a large group of people in the northbound lanes of the highway to Cherry Ridge. There are other small but passable roadblocks as well."
"So what do you think? Secondary roads?"
"I think we can take primary roads for part of the way, but then we exit onto secondary. We come into our destination from the east instead of through town. I have a route mapped out. I'll take the lead vehicle."
"Yes, sir."
The men split the food and ammo so every vehicle had a partial supply. When they picked up the large unmarked box to put it on one truck, the four men carrying seemed to struggle with it more than Ivy would have thought normal. It was as if the contents were rolling around and making the entire package unstable.
Once they loaded everything on the trucks and the Humvee was out of the plane, Sgt. Kowalski looked at Ivy. "Come on, let's go. Get in the back."
Ivy climbed in the rear passenger side of the Humvee and sat next to a large duffel that must have been at least five-feet long. "What's this?" she said.
Kowalski ignored her and instead instructed the driver to take a position behind the two trucks for the convoy to their destination. Once they exited the base, they got onto a secondary road and eventually a highway. Any streetlights they passed were dark. A small strip mall was also dark. Some stores had smashed windows.
Once they were cruising along at a comfortable pace, Kowalski turned to Ivy and said, "Do me a favor and unzip the top of that duffel and check on the contents for me."
Ivy furrowed her brow, "Uh, okay." She leaned over and pulled down the zipper a foot and spread it open to peek inside. A gray skinned face and large dark eye turned to peer out at her. She gasped and pulled her hands back. The head gave her a nod.
"Everything okay?" Kowalski asked, keeping his eyes forward and on the road.
"Yeah," Ivy replied as she stared at that one dark eye, "everything is just dandy."
"Good. Try to relax. We still have about two hours to go."
The dark landscape and rumble of the engine combined with her exhaustion to lull Ivy to sleep. She wasn't the kind of person able to sleep in moving vehicles so no one was more surprised than her when the Humvee's sudden stop woke her.
"Why are they stopping?" the driver asked Sgt. Kowalski.
"No idea," he said, "Give me the handset. Alpha one this is Bravo one. What is the holdup?" The answer came in the form of small arms fire and four sets of hands slapping against the windows of the Humvee. "Alpha reports contact at two o'clock."
Ivy gasped and recoiled from the window. In the darkness she could barely make out the features of the zombies and yet what she could see was terrifying. Her pistol was in her duffel bag, not that she could use it at this point anyway. If she did need it, by the time she found it and loaded it, she'd be dead. She would not make that mistake again.
"Roger that Alpha," Sgt. Kowalski said. "We're Oscar Mike." The convoy moved again. Several zombies were down on the road. Dozens more tried to swarm the vehicles, but they could not keep up. "He said some were blocking the road, and they made the mistake of stopping and got surrounded. Which was okay until they climbed into the first truck."
"Is everyone okay?" Ivy said.
"Yeah."
The convoy came to an intersection where the large secondary road they were on crossed another. They slowed and took a left turn. The area they were traversing was sparsely populated and mountainous. Having spent time out west she found it difficult to think of these overgrown hills as mountains. She doubted any of them were taller than two thousand feet.
A short time later they reached a large open grassy valley dotted with trees. It looked as if it had once been a golf course that no one had tended to in years. Several hundred yards distant a white hexagonal tower stood out above a thicket that masked everything else surrounding it.
The convoy slowed again and made a turn onto a narrow winding tree-lined road that took them down into the valley. They crossed a bridge over a small river and a hundred yards later came to a rustic wood and stone gateway.
The center of the gateway was a guardhouse that sat in the middle of the road creating two lanes for traffic entering and exiting the resort. A wooden overhang spanned the entire roadway held up on the outer edges by stone columns.
Lettering across the front of the overhang read Fallsview Resort and Spa. A section of steel barricade fencing and an orange traffic cone sat in each of the lanes. Other than that, there was nothing blocking their entrance to the property.
"Auburn, I don't like this. This place is way too out in the open," Sgt. Kowalski said.
"I guess they're counting on security through obscurity."
"Yeah,, well our little convoy just blew that. We will have to set up an LP/OP out here and find a place to hide the vehicles."
"Roger that, Sergeant."
Someone from one of the forward vehicles moved the barricade and stood aside while the convoy moved through and then replaced it once they were all past. Cracks spider-webbed the pavement. Tall weeds grew to either side of the narrow road that led them behind the buildings.
The hexagonal tower Ivy had seen in the distance was a ten-story white brick and steel building that looked as if it had been the main structure to house overnight guests. Next to it stood several single-story buildings and a fenced off pool area. They pulled the trucks and Humvees behind the buildings onto a small blacktopped parking lot that currently looked more like a field. All the vehicles cut their engines and lights, and everyone got out.
"All right team. Rally up on me for a briefing," Lieutenant Dirda called out. When the team assembled he began, "This place will be a nightmare to secure properly. We don't have the men or equipment to do it properly at this time. What we will have to count on is keeping a low profile.
“When outside, I want us to maintain light and noise discipline. Light, noise, and movement attract the infected. Use unsuppressed weapons as a last resort. I want a sniper team on the top of that tower on over-watch and two men to set up a listening and observation post at the front gate. We need a squad to locate and start the generator making any repairs if necessary. The rest of you get this gear unloaded and down to the lab ASAP. Questions?"
"Sir, rules of engagement?" Sgt. Kowalski said.
"For any infected, you are weapons free until further notice. For any survivors, fire only if fired upon."
"Sir, what do we do about any survivors?" Sgt. Lehman said.
"We are not on a humanitarian mission at this time. Our objective is to allow Dr. Williams to accomplish her mission of creating a treatment for this virus. Do not engage with any locals. Any other questions?" The group remained silent. "Okay then, let's get to work."
The men broke into groups and attended to their jobs. Sgt. Kowalski walked over to Ivy and said, "I need you to keep an eye on that duffel and keep it secure. Where is your weapon?"
"In my bag," Ivy said.
"Keep it with you at all t
imes and make sure it's cocked and locked."
Ivy nodded and walked back to the Humvee to retrieve the pistol from her bag. She checked the magazine to make sure it was loaded and then tucked it into her waistband, pulling her shirt over it.
As she swung the door closed an engine rumbled to life somewhere in the darkness. Seconds later lights in the tower and nearby buildings came on illuminating the area around them making them stand out like a beacon in an immense darkness. A moment later, the building's fire alarm sounded.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jim on the road - Early evening Thurs Sep 5
The heavy overcast sky made the late afternoon darker than it should have been. Driving north and west had gone much slower that Jim would have liked. Some of that had to do with road obstacles that required him to backtrack. Occasionally road blocks forced him to drive in the oncoming lanes which made him a little crazy. But he did it slowly in case of any traffic coming in the proper direction.
The farther out he got, the fewer obstacles he encountered. Now he found himself on a stretch of clear highway. If things remained that way, he should get to Cherry Ridge in about an hour. No sooner did he have that thought than something appeared in the roadway in the distance. A car on the shoulder and a crowd of people.
He slowed the truck trying to get a sense of what was happening up ahead. Both dogs perked up and B.A. gave a low growl. Tiny jumped up onto the seat and put his paws on the edge of the window. The car appeared to be a police cruiser. The crowd, it became clear, were zombies. He hadn't seen that many together in one place since he'd gone down to his house.
Dozens of them had been put down. Their rotting corpses littered the roadway. Apparently, there had been a significant struggle. It seemed clear who finally won. Now the question remained of how to get around them without backtracking if possible.
Since they were nearly all in the northbound lanes or the median, it seemed like if he were to cross over the other side now he could drive by fast enough they wouldn't be able to get to him in time. He turned the truck to the left and carefully made his way down and then back up the grassy embankment. Once on the other side, some zombies noticed the truck and moved toward it.
He sped up, trying to keep his eyes fixed on the road ahead in case of any traffic but he couldn't help glancing at the zombies and the police car like he would any accident.
The driver's side window appeared to be either down or broken, it was hard to tell from this distance. There were almost certainly cracks in the windshield. Again, there were several bodies on the ground outside the car. Just as he turned to put his eyes to the road ahead, Tiny barked. He glanced toward the wreck and thought he saw someone sit up in the backseat of the car.
He stepped on the accelerator and got the truck a safe distance away before slowing and crossing the median again to the proper side. Tiny barked the entire time. No matter what Jim said to him, the little dog would not calm down. He pulled the truck over to the side of the road and picked up the dog.
"What's wrong with you? Calm down. Calm down." He tried to cradle the dog, but it wasn't having any of it. It stood with its paws on the back window of the truck barking incessantly. "Shhhh."
He thought about the possibility of there actually being someone in the back seat. If there was a living person in there, those things would have surrounded the car. Then he thought about the dog's uncanny ability to find things they needed or were useful.
A police car could be a treasure trove of many things like weapons, ammo, and other gear like a radio, perhaps. "Is there something there we need?" The dog looked at him and looked back at the car and barked.
"You think we should go back to that police car?" Again, the dog looked at him and looked back at the car and barked. "Well, shit. How are we going to do that? There are dozens of those things out there." Jim sighed. He checked his pistol to make sure it was fully loaded. He found the tire iron and put it in the pocket on the driver's side door.
"I'm just going to say this now. If I get bit and turn into one of those things, I will find you and eat you." The dog looked at him and whined. Jim swung the truck around in a wide arc and stopped in the middle of the road facing the police car and zombies. He studied the scene carefully and tried to think of the best way to get to that car and go through it without winding up on the menu.
He looked over at B.A. and said, "Feel like going for a run?" He put the truck in park and got out. He walked around and lowered the tail gate. Then he went around to the passenger side and let B.A. out of the truck. He got down on one knee and rubbed the dog on both sides of his neck. "Don't do anything stupid. Just keep them busy for five minutes. Okay?"
The dog took off in a trot toward the police car. Jim rolled the truck down the road slowly waiting for the dog to get their attention. B.A. got close enough and barked a few times. That was all it took, and they followed him onto the median. He broke into a run and they scrambled after him.
Jim put the pedal down and raced to the car. He pulled up next to it angling the truck so the rear nearly touched the front of the police car making it difficult for any zombies to come in that direction. Once he opened the truck door, that would block anything from around the front so he had some cover. He checked around him before he got out. It all looked clear.
With the tire iron in one hand and the pistol in the other, he jumped out. His shoes crunched on broken glass. The door of the car had smears of blood all over it. On first glance, he noticed an empty magazine sitting on the center console. He put his hand on the door when someone sat up in the back seat.
"Please help. Get me out of here."
Jim nearly leapt out of his shoes. He instinctively swung the pistol toward the back seat, but it was difficult to see inside from where he stood.
"Don't shoot. Please don't shoot. I've been trapped back here for hours. Just please open the door."
The man's skin was a sickly gray color. His hair greasy and limp. His clothes were filthy. He looked like a vagrant with serious liver problems. Yet something seemed familiar about him.
Jim realized the man had his hands cuffed behind his back. Not a good sign. "Who the fuck are you and why should I care?"
Jim glanced over his shoulder trying to figure out how B.A. was doing and how much time he might have left. This was taking much too long. He needed to figure out what Tiny thought he needed to find and get the hell out of there before they got swarmed. Jim reached in and grabbed the magazine off the console. He stuffed it in his pocket.
"Jesus Christ, Jim is that you?"
Jim froze on hearing his name. "Who are you?"
"Who am I? For fuck's sake. It's me, Turnello."
"Turnello?" It was a moment of cognitive dissonance. He had just gotten used to the idea of Turnello's death. How could he be in the back of a police car in the middle of the highway? A dog barked.
He turned to his left and saw B.A. tearing down the highway with the entire zombie parade following him. He leaped up onto the truck bed and barked twice at Jim as if to say time's up. Jim jumped in the truck and rolled it down the road just past the police car.
"Hey," Turnello screamed through the rear window, "hey, don't leave me."
Jim jumped back out of the truck and slammed the tailgate shut. Then he ran to the car and tore the back door open. "Come on. Come on. Get out. Hurry." The first of the zombies were only fifty feet away.
With two hurt ankles and his hands cuffed behind his back Turnello struggled to get out of the car. Jim grabbed him by the collar and pulled as hard as he could. That got him out of the car but as soon as he put weight on his ankles he collapsed to his knees. The pain killers had worn off hours ago.
Twenty-five feet and closing. Jim hooked his arm under Turnello's armpit and heaved him up. He stood but moved like an old man. "Come on. Let's go. What's wrong with you?"
"My ankles," Turnello managed through gritted teeth.
He pulled the passenger door open when the first zombie made it to the ba
ck of the truck. He paused for a moment to shoot it through the head. Then he turned to help Turnello into the truck. He heard a moan and then a growl. When he looked back again B.A. had leaped off the truck and chomped down on a neck, sending the head rolling down the road.
Jim slammed the door. A pair of them descended on B.A. trying to sink their teeth in his hide. Jim shot each causing them to collapse on the dog. B.A. pulled himself out from under their bodies and sprinted for his life. Jim did the same around the front of the truck.
He got the door shut and threw the truck in gear just as their filthy hands smeared the windows with blood and gore. He took off down the road putting life-saving distance between them in an instant. He passed B.A. by a small margin and then got out and put the tailgate down.
The dog put its front paws up and then paused, panting furiously, tongue hanging, before Jim picked up his hind quarters off the ground and pushed him into the truck bed. He closed it once again. Then got back in and drove away well out of sight of the hungry horde.
He drove across the median and pulled over on the other side of the road. He got out and poured water for B.A. The dog lapped it all. Then it plopped back down exhausted. Jim opened the passenger door and helped Turnello out. "Let's try to get your hands in front."
He helped Turnello snake his ass-end and legs through his bound arms. It was awkward and painful and took much longer than he would have liked. In the end, it was worth it so Turnello could sit comfortably in the seat. They both got back into the truck, and in the fading twilight, headed to Cherry Ridge.
"Turnello, you look like shit."
"I'm really glad to see you too, Jim."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Town hall - Evening Thurs Sep 5
A mix of candles, a pair of propane lanterns, and light streaming in through the stained-glass windows illuminated the interior of the church. The hum of generators from the self-contained road construction light towers providing that light bled though the walls much more than anyone would have liked.
A Bad Day (Book 2): A Bad Day Page 12
