The Service Centre (Zombie Transference Book 1)

by Tom Germann

  “Um, I opened the window, Sergeant. So I could hear better.”

  The sergeant moved to the door and looked through. He couldn’t see anyone, so he moved to the counter. He couldn’t see anyone through the big window, so he moved around to the side window and still not seeing anyone, he reached up, closed it, and locked it.

  He moved back around the counter and leaned in close to Tocker. “Maybe it was just a noise from outside. We’ll be quiet…”

  The loud moaning came from the back window and a thumping noise could be heard, like something was dropped.

  Both men froze and ducked behind the counter. They stayed motionless, holding onto their weapons and waiting to see what was next.

  After a minute, the moaning slowly faded away.

  Caisson scooted around the counter, staying below the windows, and moved to the window. He couldn’t see anything outside in the narrow field of vision. He moved back behind the counter.

  “Okay, Tocker, we are going to give it five minutes and then we leave. If whatever made the noise comes back then we wait. Come in the back and help me break open the filing cabinet.”

  “Sergeant, there are three keys in the cash register.”

  Caisson grunted. “Of course there are.”

  He grabbed the keys and started trying them. The second one opened it up. The top drawer held stacks of coupons. When he checked the bottom drawer, there were files at the front and a cash box at the back.

  He took the cash box out and the third key opened that.

  He pulled out a large wad of bills and underneath that was a small revolver, with. a small box of .22 ammunition to the side. Pulling the revolver out, he swung the cylinder out and looked down the barrel. It hadn’t been cleaned for years. In fact, the cylinder was rusty and stiff to move. He placed the revolver and ammunition in his bag and sealed it up.

  Tocker was staring at him. “Sergeant, that’s a firearm.”

  “Yeah, I know that, Tocker.”

  “Well, why not load it so we have a gun? It would be better than a hammer.”

  “No way am I trusting a weapon this rusty. The ammo could be just as bad and I don’t find out till I pull the trigger. After it’s cleaned and oiled up and we can test fire, sure. But I am not relying on anything that hasn’t been verified.”

  “I guess it would be bad if it blew up in your hand.”

  “Uh? You think so? Let’s head back to the office and wait. When we leave, we go up the street and we move from vehicle to vehicle. Got it?”

  “Yes, Sergeant! From vehicle to vehicle!”

  Caisson grabbed another cream soda and popped the top, sipping it. After a minute, he got up, pulled out his cell phone, and took a picture of the open cash register. Putting away the phone, he headed for the door.

  He looked around, unlocked the door, and stepped outside. He held it until Tocker was past him. He then closed the door, making sure it didn’t slam, and both men ran for the crashed car at the sign.

  When they were behind the vehicle, Tocker kept an eye out while Caisson figured out the best route that they could take.

  After a minute where they both kept watch with no noise or movement, they started heading down the street toward the service centre, checking vehicles over as they moved.

  Clearing The Road

  They were moving quickly from car to car, although. it was almost unfair to call it a road. The paving was cracked and there were even weeds sprouting up through the cracks. Small and brown, but weeds nonetheless.

  The road was obviously not abandoned as there were cars parked along it. Those cars didn’t look like they had been sitting there for long, either. The road looked like it had been used heavily but without maintenance.

  There was no one around, so they kept moving. At every vehicle, the sergeant would look in the windows for car keys and then try the doors. A few of the vehicles had keys inside, some in the ignition.

  He looked under the vehicle as well. Some of them had pooled liquid beneath and those he ignored.

  They couldn’t talk now that they were moving away from the gas station. The area was so creepy that it was easy to imagine something going wrong if a single sound was made. The image of a horde of killers with machetes coated in blood kept running through their minds.

  The paperwork they had found was also confusing, and was a heavy burden sitting in Caisson’s backpack. Tocker had a similar load in his pack as backup.

  It was the reason they hadn’t really noticed the cars as anything other than vehicles and shapes sitting on the road. After passing the third vehicle, Sergeant Caisson turned to look back quickly and then forward again. There were over a dozen vehicles in sight. A few pickup trucks and what looked like a station wagon up ahead.

  The cars. They were all monster cars, mostly big and squared off. The one ahead had big fins and large taillights that looked more like the landing lights on a plane. Some of the cars had a more rounded and sleek look to them, but those were the ones with the largest pools of engine fluids under them.

  Looking inside the first few, they had just been car interiors. He stopped carefully, opened the door, and really looked now. The inside of the vehicle was bizarre. The seats were covered in a plaid fabric that was also on the inside of the doors and the centre of the steering wheel. The steering wheel was larger than normal and it looked like it was inlaid wood. There was no centre console because the front seat was a bench and when he leaned in to look closer, it was obvious that the radio was some sort of retro model with a large tuning knob next to the volume control and these massive push buttons for the pre-set channels. The control panel gauges were all huge dials. There wasn’t a single digital readout or high-tech gadget anywhere.

  The windows had handles to roll them down and the side mirrors needed to be adjusted by hand. The only arm on the steering column was to shift gears.

  Caisson looked under the dash and saw a push button for the high-beams. This was wrong.

  He left the door hanging open and gestured for Tocker to follow him.

  Ahead of him was a truck and he could see the puddle of fluid under the engine from back here. He took off and ran up to the side. He edged along the truck and checked in the cab to make sure he had seen correctly. There was a hunting rack in the back of the cab. There were no weapons, but it looked like it had been used. The truck was parked in front of a small bungalow with a cheerful yellow garage door and matching patio furniture set out front. This house would be a good choice to check and he made a mental note of it. The truck doors were locked and the cab looked empty, so there was no reason to linger.

  The next few cars were similar in being empty with no keys, then they passed a larger truck that was the biggest vehicle they had seen yet and they froze.

  Ahead of them was a police car. It fit in with the area because it looked like one of the old time cars they had been passing. Black, sleek, and shiny, there was a single light on top and a large whip antenna running from the front to the back.

  It was ahead of them by a little over twenty feet, and the front tire was up on the curb.

  Both the driver and passenger side doors were open. There was dirt on the windows and he could see shotgun shells on the ground by the driver’s side and brass on the sidewalk.

  He looked around again and saw nothing. He did see another pickup truck across the road that would have blocked the view of the police car as they were advancing down the back of the other houses. He motioned for Tocker to wait and then took off at a run, hunched over to make a smaller target.

  The sergeant made it to the back of the car and switched his grip on the pry bar so that he could stab upwards with it. He moved up the length of the vehicle and found the back windows partially rolled down. There was nothing in the back and the mesh separating the front from the back looked in mint condition. He couldn’t see anything in the front seat. />
  At the thump behind him, he whipped around ready to stab whatever had leapt up, but it was only Tocker.

  Private Tocker was white-faced with his eyes almost bugging out of his head as he tried to look everywhere at once. He was white-knuckled as he clenched the hammer with both hands. Caisson glared at him, and Tocker just shrugged and grimaced back.

  Turning back, he moved up and looked in the open door.

  The vehicle had been sitting there with the door open for a long time. There was dirt on the seats that had blown in, along with some leaves. It also looked like blood had sprayed right across the front seat and all over the shotgun sitting there. He picked it up. It had been out in the elements for a while, but a good cleaning would do wonders. It looked like a Mossberg 870.

  Caisson put the shotgun on the floor and leaned into the car. The keys were in the ignition and in the on position. The gas gauge indicated empty and the lights should have been on. He leaned over and saw the police radio. It was easy enough to figure out and he put the volume down as low as it would go and tried it.

  There was nothing, not even a click. The radio would have run off the car’s battery, maybe with a backup, but after days or weeks, it was dead. He leaned a bit further in and saw a revolver on the passenger side floor. He leaned over and scooped it up. It was big and shiny. He checked it over. There were six fired shells in the cylinder. Whoever had used it hadn’t had time to reload.

  He looked down to the floor boards again and reached in, trying to search under the seat. He felt something metal and pulled out a speed-loader with six rounds. He searched again, but found nothing else.

  The glove box. He opened it and found a cardboard box of shells along with a pair of handcuffs, a duty logbook, and a small box with rounds and some more shells. He sat back and considered it while Tocker kept an eye out.

  There were eight shotgun shells in the box. He racked the slide several times and checked the weapon over carefully before he loaded five shells into the shotgun and then gestured for Tocker to lean in. He whispered, “Here, there are five rounds in the shotgun. Do NOT fire unless you have to, but at least you have a weapon now. Make sure of your target and do NOT shoot me!”

  Tocker nodded and put the hammer on the ground before taking the shotgun from the sergeant. He kept his finger off the trigger while he scanned around the vehicle.

  Caisson took the revolver and figured out how to swing the cylinder out easily enough. He dumped the brass and loaded in six loose rounds. He put the rest in a cargo pocket and the speed-loader into an empty chest pocket. The rest of the items he loaded into the backpack.

  He turned back to Tocker and hissed to get his attention.

  When Tocker leaned back down, he handed him the box and mouthed “four,” pointing at the box. Tocker put it into his pocket.

  The sergeant climbed out of the vehicle and then stopped. He reached down and picked up the hammer and put it into Tocker’s backpack for him. Then he looked at the truck across the street. It looked different. He walked the eight feet and touched the door, which wiggled. It was open. He looked in the window and saw the keys in the ignition.

  He noted the vehicle as well. It was not far from the end of the street and looked in better condition than any of the other vehicles they had found so far.

  They continued moving along the road until they were past where they had entered from the tree line.

  It was the same down the street. Most of the houses had closed doors and looked like everyone had just left for a vacation. Then there was the occasional house that had a door open or broken windows, and luggage or personal items strewn somewhere on the property.

  One house had a birdcage on the front lawn that had been ripped apart.

  They had finished at the end of the street and they had passed the dirt track that led to where the service centre and the strange gas station were. They circled and headed back on the other side of the road until he saw a clear spot between the houses with no hedge. He led Tocker into the backyard and stopped. Both houses were of the style that had been closed up for a ‘vacation.’. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to Tocker, taking the shotgun. He kept watch while Tocker drank and breathed,. then they switched.

  He leaned in close to Tocker and whispered, “Back along the back of the houses about a hundred metres until we get to that part of the tree line where we came out. Then back in and home. Clear?”

  Tocker nodded. “Clear, Sergeant.”

  They finished the bottle and put it back in the backpack, then moved out. Caisson stayed in the lead and it was a fast trip back to the tree line. They entered the tree line and took a knee, keeping an eye out for a full five minutes to make sure they weren’t being followed before heading out following the same route back to the service centre.

  The forest seemed more threatening even though both men were armed. Something had come through the area and it had been bad. But there was only the body of a dead dog mummified by the heat.

  They didn’t stop or slow down until they came out of the woods and ran to the shack by the pumps, then around the front of the store and inside.

  As they passed Sam and Sal working at the pumps, the two looked up and Sam said, “Hi, Sergeant, how’s it going? We’ve been able to pump up enough gas to fill three jerry cans. Only nine more to go!”

  Sergeant Caisson nodded and casually said, “That’s great. Why don’t you grab the three full ones and come back inside with us? We should be debriefing soon.”

  Sal immediately put down the hand-crank and started walking toward the centre. Sam just looked after him and sighed, putting the hose down and grabbing two of the jerry cans, starting for the center. Private Tocker grabbed the last jerry can and followed.

  As soon as they were inside, Caisson locked the door.

  There was stunned silence at the appearance of the men as they were soaked in sweat and carrying jerry cans, and now the two soldiers had weapons and troubling expressions.

  Tracy called out as soon as she saw them at the door, “They’re back, everyone!” It was loud enough that everyone heard and came over. The group from the garage came in and then stopped in shocked silence like everyone else.

  Everyone started talking at once.

  “QUIET!” Wagner’s bellow was loud enough to shut everyone up. “They just got back in, it’s hot as hell, and they need a minute to collect themselves. Everyone chill out and give them ten minutes. Then we can ALL listen to the debrief, alright?”

  Janice glared at him. “Really? We should wait ten minutes? They walked in the door and then locked it! And they’ve got guns! We need to know what’s going on, it affects all of us!”

  Richard and Sal nodded in agreement.

  Looking around, Wagner said, “We get them a cold drink, let them collect their thoughts so that they can report in a detailed and effective manner, and then we listen to it all. I would be as worried as everyone else was if they came in here at the run and were shooting. You may notice they didn’t take cover when they came in? Everyone relax.” He turned to the two sitting at the table. “Take a minute, guys, and get some liquid in you. It’s hot as hell out there and you were gone for a while.”

  Both men carefully put their weapons on the ground by their feet and then pulled out the remaining sports bottle.

  Tocker looked up as Tracy brought three more bottles over. “Thank you, miss. It’s really hot out there.”

  Tracy smiled. “No problem. Just drink up, okay?”

  Both of the sweaty soldiers peeled their gloves off, dropping them into a garbage can, and then drained the first bottle in seconds before settling down to just sip the second. When they had both finished their second, Sergeant Caisson stood up and slowly walked around the open space, stretching and swinging his arms.

  Then he nodded at Wagner. “Okay, I’m ready to brief you all. I’ll go first and Private Tocke
r can fill in anything that he saw or his impressions when I pause, okay?”

  Private Tocker nodded. “Yes, Sergeant!”

  Caisson took his backpack off and gestured for Tocker’s which he then placed on the floor.

  “Okay, everyone, you know we took off for a reconnaissance of the local area.” He carefully started placing bottles on the small table top. “This bottle represents us here in this service centre, everyone knows there are houses behind us. Well, it’s a big subdivision that just keeps going on. The tree line here widens out. It looks like there are larger buildings in the distance, maybe two or three klicks away. We left out the back and….”

  The sergeant’s finger traced a line on the table as he carefully took everyone through their recce of the area. He left nothing out and stopped at logical spots to take a breath and let Private Tocker fill in anything that he may have missed.

  The broken-in houses and bigger damage upset everyone, as did the news of the dead, half-eaten dog. At that point, Richard interrupted, “It could be wolves. There are reports of wolves in the area sometimes…”

  The warrant officer looked around. “Alright, everyone, let him finish the brief and questions can happen at the end. We don’t want to miss anything.”

  Caisson waited and looked around. When no one else said anything, he continued. He was able to pass on everything relevant. The gas station and what they had found there. He mentioned the logs and assorted paperwork that they had found that they could go through later. Coming back along the street and always feeling like something was going to happen and that they were being watched. Finding the police car and the blood trails all over the area. He identified the vehicles that he thought looked like the best for them to get. When he finished, he stopped and then asked if anyone had questions.

  Janice was the first to speak. “You didn’t see any sign of anyone around? There were no bodies anywhere? Just blood?”