by R. J. Spears
“Sir,” Jones said, his hands out in supplication.
“That’s about enough, sergeant!” Kilgore barked. The sharpness of it was enough to make Jones take a step back. Whatever inner turmoil had been going on inside Kilgore had vanished. “There was a general who I used to work with. He had a very simple motto and I’ve adopted it -- it’s not about what you want to do, it’s about what needs done.”
Jones ventured a step forward and said, “This doesn’t need done.”
“It does and it will be done.”
The crowd stood, holding its breath at this showdown. It was like watching a tennis match with each player slapping the ball back and forth furiously, only this wasn’t a game. Aaron’s life stood in the balance and it was clear that one of the players had more ammunition
“Sir, please,” Jones said. “You are going to force me to do something that we both will regret.”
Kilgore let out a small laugh and asked, “And what is that?”
“I’m going to be forced to relieve you of your command.”
Kilgore looked stunned. This was beyond his wild expectations -- one of his own turning on him.
The crowd let out its breath and it seemed as if the underdog had just played his entire hand. Maybe the tide was turning and an upset was in the making? Maybe there was a chance that Aaron would make it out of this alive? Sergeant Jones was about to save this one when it looked like it was lost.
That was until Corporal Lodwick, who had slipped in behind the crowd made his move. He stuck his rifle in the back of one older man named Marc and gave him a vicious push with the barrel. The older man cried out in pain and fell forward, reaching out with both of his arms and grabbing the back of two of the others. The old man’s momentum was too much for the other two and all three of them went down. The others in the crowd wheeled around and saw Lodwick moving forward with his rifle up and wearing an expression that said he would like to use it.
A couple of the women let out startled cries and the rest of the crowd split, making way for the surging Lodwick. Jones turned and looked back at the commotion. People stumbled over themselves and each other to get out of the way, afraid Lodwick just might shoot his way through them.
Kilgore shouted, “Corporal Lodwick, I order you to shoot Sergeant Jones if he continues with these traitorous actions.” He started toward Jones.
Jones looked back over his shoulder at Kilgore, but the rifle-wielding Lodwick held the biggest threat in his mind and he locked in on him.
“Sergeant Jones, put your hands on your head and interlace your fingers,” Lodwick said. He seemed very pleased with himself.
“You heard what I said,” Jones said. “The Colonel needs to be relieved of command. His actions have become completely reckless.”
“I don’t see it that way,” Lodwick said, bringing the rifle up and aiming at Jones’ chest. His finger tensed on the trigger and it seemed as if he were ready to pull it. Kilgore moved forward on a direct path for Jones and when he got within feet of Jones, he pulled a small handgun from his pocket.
“Lodwick, take Sergeant Jones into custody,” Kilgore said.
“With pleasure sir,” Lodwick said as he closed in on Jones.
“I’m not alone in how I’m thinking,” Jones said as he focused on the encroaching Lodwick. “Others have had their doubts…”
His sentence ended there as Kilgore stepped forward and whipped the butt of his gun across the back of Jones’ head. Jones’ eyes fluttered and he let out a stifled grunt as he took a wobbly step forward, his arms out grasping for anything that might hold him, but they only found air. The lights went out in his eyes and as he started to collapse, Russell jumped out of the crowd and was able to get his arms around Jones middle. Jones was nearly eighty pounds heavier than Russell, but Russell was able to navigate the bigger man to the ground.
Lodwick danced out from between a couple of the Manor people and spun around on them while yelling, “No one get any ideas!”
The crowd got the message and gave Lodwick a wide berth. Kilgore moved up next to the kneeling Russell and the prone Jones and shook his head in disgust.
Kilgore then looked up and at two soldiers standing off to the periphery. “Private Oester and Private Chaney, take Sergeant Jones and secure him.”
The two privates looked reluctant to act at all, but jumped into action when Kilgore shouted, “I mean now!” It took them two minutes to get Jones up and then navigate him through the crowd and back into the building. Kilgore paced quietly while Lodwick kept his rifle leveled back on the crowd. They dragged Jones toward a set of exterior doors and one of the men struggled to open the doors while carrying Jones’ bulk, but managed to pull one of the doors open.
They pulled Jones through the entryway and as soon as the door slammed, Kilgore said, “Now, where were we?” He spoke like he was a ringmaster at the circus and it was his delight and duty to keep the festivities in motion and the crowd entertained.
“Yes,” he said, pointing his index finger into the air, “we were about to find out how much trouble you will go to keep your little secrets. Your man here,” he stopped and pointed at Aaron who had recovered only marginally during Sergeant Jones’ brave stand, “he showed some stones inside when he stood up to me. You all seem very brave to me, but here is where the rubber meets the road.”
He swiveled fully toward Aaron and continued, “Your man here is going to face off with these two hungry zombies unless one of you speaks up and tells me where Jason Carter and his little gang of escapees are.”
Jo tried for one last plea, “But we told you we don’t know anything.”
“That’s not good enough,” Kilgore said and pointed toward the soldiers by Aaron. They took their cue and step back away from Aaron while keeping a safe distance from the zombies. Kilgore waited patiently as they got fifty feet away and then, like the master of ceremonies, he pointed at the soldiers standing a safe distance behind the poles. The two soldiers each yanked a rope and the chains slid off the zombie’s waists. It took the zombies nearly three seconds to recognize that they were free and unfettered and then they launched themselves at Aaron.
“Aaron, lookout!” Jo screamed, but Aaron was still dazed, swaying back and forth.
“They’re coming,” Russell yelled and something stirred within Aaron and he turned in an unsteady circle towards the two approaching zombies. Kilgore watched impassively as the scene commenced and the fun got started.
Aaron’s first instinct, like anyone, was to run. Running was a challenge, but he made it four feet in a jerky shamble before he discovered what everyone had seen, he was chained to the ground. The chain yanked him off balance and he went down hard. The zombie to his left, a larger male in life, seemed to be excited by his movement and sped up as it shuffled toward him, seeming more spry than most of the undead.
“Get up, Aaron!” Russell and Jo screamed at the same time.
Aaron rolled onto all fours and made it back to his feet just as the left zombie was about to reach him. Aaron dodged to his right and leaned over until he had to touch his right hand against the ground to stay stable. It was if the zombie was a slow motion bull and Aaron was the bullfighter. The zombie, with its arms outstretched, slid by Aaron with only an inch to spare.
Zombies aren’t great course correctors and this one maintained its attack course for several more feet, taking it out of immediate concern, but by then, the zombie on the right was now in play and closing fast. Fast was a relative term when it comes to zombies, but in Aaron’s depleted condition, the playing field had been leveled.
The second zombie looked like it had been an older man, but injuries and decay obscured any of the details to give a true tell. Large portions of the skin on its face and head had been scraped away and one of its arms seemed to be bent at an unnatural angle. It bore down on him with its one good arm clawing the air reaching toward Aaron.
Still groggy, Aaron did what came instinctive and kicked out at the undead thing, st
riking it directly in the chest with his boot and driving it back. It stumbled backward and nearly went down, but rallied and readied itself for another charge.
By that time, the first zombie had turned itself around and came on a direct course for Aaron’s back.
“Behind you, Aaron,” Jo shouted.
Aaron spun around just in time to be ready for the first zombie. It pawed at him with one arm and Aaron grabbed that arm and yanked downward, pulling the thing to the ground where he gave it a savage kick to the head, stunning it. He looked over his shoulder to ascertain where the second zombie was and saw that he had a couple of seconds. He grabbed the chain that held him fast to the ground and tried to yank the circlet out of the ground, but it didn’t budge. The soldiers had worked hard to drive it as deeply as they could and had done a bang-up job of it.
The second zombie moved in for the kill while Aaron was distracted by trying to getting free. By the time he looked up, the thing was just about on him. He punched the way Brandon had taught him, pushing off with the back foot and moving forward letting all his momentum flow into the punch. It connected with the thing’s jaw and spun it around like a top. The brunt force of the punch nearly broke the zombie’s neck, but it proved to be made out of tougher stuff and while it did drop to one knee, it quickly rose and came back at Aaron. A normal living, breathing man would have been knocked out cold, but these undead things were far past being normal.
The first zombie gave up getting back on two feet and scrambled along the ground toward Aaron’s legs. He sensed this in time and got an idea. In a prancing two-step, he lifted the chain off the ground like a jump rope and whipped it around the zombie’s neck. Once the loop was complete, he danced back and the chain pulled tautly. The tension yanked the zombie to the ground where it flailed, clutching at the chain and clawing at it fruitlessly to get free.
Jo felt a surge of hope swell within her. Aaron had used what Kilgore had put in place to contain him as a weapon. Maybe Aaron would be able to survive this?
That hope was short lived as the second zombie proved to be more nimble than anyone expected. It came at Aaron’s back and he wheeled around, sweeping his elbow at the thing’s head, but it was bent over at the waist and Aaron’s arm swung over its head leaving him open and exposed. It rammed into Aaron’s side, knocking him off balance. He struggled to stay upright, but the beating he took from Kilgore had taken its toll. He just about made it, but his ankle slammed into the side of the other downed zombie. He tottered for a moment, arms pin-wheeling in the air, and then he went down, tangled with the second zombie.
Every one of the onlookers but Kilgore gasped. The corners of his mouth turned up in a tight grin.
The second zombie pushed its snapping jaws down toward Aaron’s face, but he jerked his arms up and caught it under its chin halfway in progress of its descent. All the while, the zombie beneath Aaron squirmed under his weight, trying to get some leverage to escape and get a bite of Aaron’s back. Aaron pushed the second one’s head up, and it shook violently, trying to get itself free. Aaron’s hands, already slick with sweat, were having a hard time holding it back, and the zombie was close to getting free. It grunted loudly as its jaw moved expectantly.
Aaron’s arms shook with the exertion and the zombie’s teeth moved closer and closer to his face, snapping open and closed with a loud clacking noise. He could smell the putrid odor from its mouth and thought he saw pieces of meat stuck in its teeth. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last as his muscles strained and he gritted his teeth together as the zombie beneath him bucked wildly to be free.
That was when the top zombie’s head exploded.
Chapter 18
Sniper
Old man Schultzy pushed the scope down from his eyes, barely believing that he had just pulled the trigger. It had been a one in a thousand shot and he had made it.
Some things can’t be unlearned, he thought. He hadn’t lost his touch. The boys in Korea had witnessed him taking out some Chinese soldiers at nearly two hundred yards. This one, though, had been a miracle shot and he was nearly positive that he couldn’t do it again.
It was hard for him to believe what he had just witnessed. The military was forcing one of his people to fight for his very life against zombies. Was it for some kind of demented sport? Was it a punishment? Schultzy didn’t know, but whatever it was, Joel had been right. These soldiers were bad news.
He brought the scope back up to his eye and saw that he was now in deep shit. You can’t just snipe a zombie and not expect to draw some attention. He swiped the scope to the right and saw the soldiers bringing their rifles up and sweeping their aim across the woods in his direction.
Might as well make it worth it, he thought. He sighted in on one of the soldiers and pulled the trigger. The soldier clutched his midsection and fell backward, a spray of blood shot from the wound. Pandemonium broke out in the crowd with people screaming and starting to run in blind panic. They ignored the soldiers and scrambled back toward the building, but Shultzy knew that he had to get moving. At seventy eight, he knew he couldn’t move fast, but he was motivated to boogie out of there.
The soldiers opened up with their rifles and he heard the zinging of bullets whipping through the trees around him. He knew he had the advantage for now because he was undercover of the trees while they were out in the open. He also knew that he had to deter them from making an all-out rush at him because if they did that, he was sunk. To accentuate this point, a bullet thunked into a large oak tree, sending chunks of bark past Schultzy’s face like shrapnel. He put up an arm and caught a long splinter in his left forearm. He grunted on its impact, but shook it off. He had taken worse in Korea.
He slid his aim to the left side of the group of people and targeted a soldier on the periphery and snapped off two quick shots. Neither hit, but the soldier got the idea and hit the ground. Two soldiers near him got the same message and fell to the ground, too.
Mission accomplished, he thought. He had them thinking safety first. Schultzy whisked the rifle back to the far right, wanting to avoid shooting any of the Manor people and fired somewhat wildly on the soldiers on that side of the crowd. Like the other soldiers, they moved to defensive postures.
Schultzy took this as his cue to leave and pulled the rifle out of the crook of the tree he had been using to hold his aim steady. He stepped backward for four steps keeping an eye on the soldiers then turned and shuffled as fast as his feet could carry him into the trees. He knew he had little hope of getting out of the woods and back to the old farm, but he had prepared for that possible eventuality and found a hidey hole in a hollowed out and rotted tree. Being surrounded by a horde of Chinese National soldiers in Korea taught him two things; to know where your escape routes were and to find a safe place to hide. Since he wasn’t fast enough to escape, his only choice was to hide.
The old rotted oak tree was parked near a thick canopy of pine trees. It could have been on the other side of the world for all the good it did him if he didn’t get moving, so he picked up the pace. He didn’t know if it was the excitement or the exertion, but his heart hammered away in his chest and he felt light headed. He figured both were a factor.
The tree was less than an eighth of a mile away and he felt his lungs aching and his legs getting wobbly as he moved along. He knew he had let himself go before the end of the world as they knew it and had done only a little after it to correct that slide. Still, he made decent time and arrived at his hollow tree quicker than most octogenarians. It was a wide and tall oak that looked like lightning or disease had had its way with it, coring out a large part of the center. He pushed through some shrubs and slid into the narrow crevasse in the side of the tree, sucking in his paunch as he did so. As soon as he was inside, he reached back out and pulled the shrub back into the crack, disguising it from a casual search. If they did a thorough fine tooth comb inspection, though, his goose would be cooked.
The inside was tight, but he found a little uneven ri
dge of bumpy wood at butt level and leaned down onto it. It would have to be his makeshift seat. He had had worse. He readied himself to wait out the search, and hoped his bladder and prostate would allow him to make it without pissing his pants. It was hell getting old.
Chapter 19
Ready for the Road
The note read, “We need to get moving.” It was written on a small, pocket-sized piece of notebook paper. The handwriting was very familiar. I looked up to Jason’s face and nodded my head.
“I know we’ve been too comfortable here,” I said. Since our arrival, the people in this hidden underground facility had treated us like we were royalty. We had new clothes, great food, and safety. In the face of a zombie apocalypse, that can grow on you.
“But it’s safe here,” Brother Ed said in a complete reversal from early stances.
“I like it here, too,” Naveen said.
We were all gathered in my little room, making for a tight fit.
“I think Billie Sue and Donovan would like us to stay, too, but we can’t,” Kara said.
“Why not?” Naveen said, almost whining.
“Staying would be nice,” I said.
Jason tapped my shoulder and then scribbled away for a moment on his notepad. When he finished writing, he handed the note over to me. I read the note, “There is a plan for us. We must go on.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I know. The man upstairs has another plan for us.”
“I still think it’s a bad idea,” Brother Ed said with his customary scowl. “These people have resources and know how to survive.”
“What about the people back at the Manor counting on us?” Kara asked.
“Maybe we can get to them and bring them here,” Brother Ed replied.
“They clearly don’t have the resources for all of them, and the soldiers are still there,” Kara said.
