America the Dead

by Joseph Talluto

  Major Thorton looked at his subordinates. His eyes rested on Captain Ted’s small frame for a second. Tamikara stared back without blinking. Ken gave a small grin at the little man, then spoke to the group.

  “Thank you all for coming at such short notice,” the Major began, “I have been hearing the complaints again about the abuse of rights of our refugees. I have thought about this, and I have decided to do something about it.” Ken paused for effect while Sgt. Nick and Sgt. Rod shared a look of predatory anticipation. They were certain there was going to be some drastic retaliatory measures taken against the complainers. They were not prepared for what Major Thorton said next.

  “These complaints have a source and it is my intention to destroy that source. Therefore, we need to plan an expedition to the nation’s capital.”

  “What are we going to do?” Captain Tamikara spoke up, narrowing his eyes at the major as suspicions began to creep into his mind.

  “We are going to D.C. to destroy the Constitution and the Bill of Rights,” Thorton said. “I figure if we get rid of the source of rights, then these idiots will finally shut up.” Ken stood to the stunned silence of the room. “Tell your men. I want a plan in two hours.” He strode out, feeling pleased with himself, his bulk filling the small hallway as he went back to his suite.

  Captain Tamikara watched the major leave, then spoke quietly to the men at the table. “You heard him. Two hours. Move.” Ted looked on as the men filed out, then looked down the hall that Ken had left through as he thought, You incompetent ape. What stupidity are you up to now?

  Two hours later, the men had returned. They spoke quietly while they waited for the Major to return.

  “How many men do you think we’ll need?” Lt. Lon asked the captain.

  “With likely losses, I figure if we leave with forty, maybe twenty might make it all the way. Don’t know for sure how many would be able to make it back here in one piece.” Captain Ted replied coldly, accepting fifty percent losses as no big deal. “We couldn’t take more without compromising the security of this location.”

  “Provisions?” Sgt. Nick asked, mentally calculating what supplies he had.

  “Two weeks per man, tops. We’ll live off the land and the goodwill of fellow survivors.” Captain Tamikara smiled thinly at the chuckles this comment drew. They all knew how they would live and force the issue with the barrel of a gun.

  “What’s our route?” Sgt. Rod asked, pulling open a large road map of the United States.

  Tamikara leaned forward. “We’ll use secondary roads. The highways will still have numerous cars and obstacles, including a good supply of roaming zombies. We’ll be able to see who’s still alive and where supplies are. Most towns off the main highways are dead zones anyway. We’ll avoid major towns and cities, since we won’t have the manpower to deal with large hordes of zombies.”

  Lt. Lon nodded. “I see your point, but what about the waterways? We could take the rivers or follow the coast and not have to worry about zombies at all. Everybody knows zombies don’t swim.”

  Tamikara shook his head. “I think the land route is the most direct. Besides, I’d rather not be caught on a boat when a storm hit, would you?” Captain Ted spoke casually, but deep inside he was reeling. Just the thought of being on a boat set his stomach to heaving as he had a deathly fear of water.

  Lt. Lon shrugged. “Okay, then, that settles the how. What we need to do is decide the who and when.”

  Captain Ted looked out the window and tilted his head to the side, looking at the overcast skies. “I’d rather leave when the cold hits. Frozen zombies are a whole lot less of a threat and there is less risk. As far as who goes, I’d say we need to leave behind an officer, an NCO, and support staff.”

  The rest of the men in the room nodded agreement then came to attention as Major Thorton swaggered into the room. He eased his bulk into a protesting chair, then leaned forward, looking at the map on the table.

  “Sorry I’m late. My new toy is such a distraction.” Ken purred as he leered at his men. All of them, save the Captain, leered back. “What have you planned so far?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his massive arms across his chest.

  Lt. Lon outlined the general plan and broke down the specifics. Major Thorton nodded his big head. “I like it.” He said. “Except for the part about leaving in winter. We’ll stay here, then travel when the snows break.”

  “Why not travel when the zombies are frozen?” Captain Tamikara asked, the only man there who dared question the Major.

  Major Thorton would normally bristle at this insolence, but today he was feeling magnanimous. “I agree it would be easier, but we don’t know what kind of shelter we might be able to secure for ourselves. Here we’re established and are ready for winter.” Reluctant nods were seen around the table.

  Ken continued with a wicked grin. “Besides, I was looking forward to a winter tucked away warmly with my toys.”

  The NCOs shared a glance and Lt. Lon smiled openly. Only captain Tamikara kept a straight face, but it was wasted on Major Thorton. The man was a full blown pathological narcissist and would not be distracted. Major Thorton sat back and waved his hand. “Dismissed. You know what we need to do,” he said as he turned in his chair and looked out the window.

  The men left the room, to reconvene outside the mill compound. Captain Tamikara issued additional orders. “We will need to make sure we have adequate supplies. Raids from the north will focus on gathering materials for the trip. We’ll store them there,” he pointed to a tall brick building that once was a saloon, but now was unused. “When the snows break, we’ll be on the move. I want to be able to just pack in and go. The sooner we get this… job finished, the sooner we can look to expanding our operations.”

  None of the others seemed to notice the pause, but it summed up what a lot of them were thinking at the same time. Their leader may not be completely sane.

  The men dispersed to their various duties and to inform the rest of their men what the coming spring held in store for them. The wind over the hills was noticeably colder and everyone knew that winter was close behind. For the poor people of the settlement, it was a small release from the work that was required of them. But winter was long and cold and the people were literally prisoners in their own homes, only allowed to leave when the time came to pick up their foodstuffs or supplies. The animal caretakers were kept busy, making sure the animals were fed and healthy.

  The only thing that broke up the monotony was the raids and the materials they brought back. Sometimes they brought back new people for the town. Sometimes they brought back new equipment. Once in a while not all of them came back.

  The big excitement happened when someone actually escaped. A soldier came stumbling in from the outer posts, holding a ruined and bloody mouth. Apparently someone had decided they had had enough and disappeared into the wild.

  Captain Tamikara was not pleased. He confronted the man in his office who was trying to clean himself up.

  “Do you have a weapon?” he asked quietly.

  “Yeth,” the private said thickly, dripping blood onto the floor.

  “Then why did you not kill the man when he approached you?” Tamikara asked.

  “He din’t loog lige trubble,” the private said, gently dabbing his face with is sleeve.

  “Really?” Captain Tamikara’s voice softened and the private winced visibly, expecting a fatal bullet . Tamikara continued. “Well, I guess he was trouble. You’d better go get him before more of these fools think it is okay to hit their guards with rocks and leave.”

  “Now?” the man squeaked, looking at the new blanket of snow that was falling from deep grey skies.

  “Right now.” Tamikara dropped a hand to his sidearm, a nickel-plated Browning Hi-Power, his one vanity.

  The man shouldered his rifle and headed out into the gloom, pursuing prey that would not want to be caught and would fight if cornered.

  Captain Tamikara watched the ma
n leave, then shook his head. First this lunatic wild goose chase and now someone escapes, he thought to himself. If I believed in omens, I would say we just got handed a big one.

  After three days, neither the escapee or the soldier chasing him had shown up and Captain Tamikara had new things to worry about. A truckload of prisoners had been brought in and after the separation of families and couples, there were the requisite beatings and rapes and children crying for their mothers. It kept the men busy and the Major was pleased with three new additions to his little harem.

  But the additions also stirred up the pot again about rights being violated and the Major was determined more than ever to get rid of that which vexed him.

  5

  Winter was brutal, with long periods of time when no one could go outside for there was too much snow and it was too cold. Three infants died in the camp, adding to the resentment the people felt towards their captors. A work party tried to overpower their guards and Major Thorton chose to hang them all in the center of the town as a lesson to the rest. As the bodies swung in the wind, the looks around the assembled populace were not defeated, but stoic in their resolution. Thorton was unaware of the animosity, but Tamikara and the rest of the men were all too aware. They gripped their weapons nervously and huddled close together, not wanting to be alone near any of the people.

  Winter passed slowly, but eventually came the first signs of spring. Warm air blew over the hills and people emerged from their homes, turning their faces to the brighter sun. The thawing snow reawakened the dormant feelings of rebellion and Caption Tamikara was all too eager to get moving on. He pushed the men with intensity, but urged them not to reveal what was happening. He did not want on uprising on his watch. If the people revolted after he and the others left, what did he care?

  The trucks were loaded in the beginning of March and by the start of Spring in earnest, the convoy was ready to go. Ken Thorton inspected the vehicles and spoke with his captain and lieutenant.

  “Do we have everything we need?” he asked, looking back over the trucks.

  “Yes, we’ve been over everything twice, Major. We have planned for everything we could think of.” Tamikara was barely concealing his contempt these days.

  “What about the men staying back, who will it be?” Thorton pressed, looking for weakness.

  “Lt. Hansen will be staying behind, as well as Sgt. Nick Harris. They have chosen the men to stay behind as well.”

  “Excellent. We will be leaving thirty-five men. Will that be enough to keep this place until we return?” Thorton asked.

  It had better be, thought Tamikara. “We figure they should be sufficient. We chose the men who would be more brutal than the others, keeping the rest in line until we get back with more numbers,” he said.

  “Good, good.” Ken looked at his fortress and turned back to his Captain. “What about my toys, what were we going to do with them?” Ken was concerned. Not for the well being of his victims, but for his own pleasure when he returned.

  Tamikara sighed. “We are sending them back to their families to work. We figured they would be better used as incentives to not fight than as a reason to inspire further hatred.” Tamikara was deliberately trying to bait Thorton.

  Thorton was oblivious. “Pity, it would have been nice to bring one along.”

  Tamikara shrugged. “A useless mouth to feed.”

  Major Thorton glanced sideways at his captain. A suspicion formed in his mind, but he realized the futility of pursuing it at the moment. He changed the subject instead.

  “Raid should be coming back tonight from over the mountain. We’ll leave as soon as they return,” he said.

  “At night?” Tamikara seemed surprised. Everyone who survived the Upheaval knew not to move about at night.

  Ken shook his head. “I figure them back by this evening. We’ll get a good start out and rest over at Maudy’s. After that, we’re on our own.”

  Ted nodded once and then turned to Lt. Lon. “Let the rest know and we need to make sure it is quiet.”

  Lt. Lon saluted, then walked off towards his men. Major Thorton watched him leave, then turned to Tamikara.

  “Listen carefully.” Ken spoke softly. “If you ever speak like that to me again, I will take your pretty pistol and shove it up your ass before I pull the fucking trigger.” He stuck his large face into Tamikara’s. “Clear?”

  Tamikara stared back a full minute before answering. “Crystal. Is that all, sir?”

  “That’s enough. Go find a weakling to intimidate, Captain.”

  Tamikara spun on his heel, seething with impotent fury. He knew he couldn’t take Thorton in a fight, and if he had tried to pull his weapon, Ken would have easily killed him. This insult was going to be answered, but it would be on Tamikara’s terms, not Thorton’s.

  Later that evening, the raiders returned. They had various foodstuffs and supplies, but picking were getting slimmer and slimmer. It was noticeable that three men who had gone out had not come back. After the supplies had been stored, the big event was the departure of Ken Thorton and his band of renegades. The people watched from their homes, hopeful their ordeal might be coming to an end after all.

  In the middle of the night, Private Levi Denton, a nineteen year old from Vegas died in his sleep. He had been feeling a little ill since he had gotten back from the raid, but he had dismissed it as just a case of indigestion. The truth was he had managed to get infected. The raiders had been surprised by a number of zombies in the store they were looting. The fight had been vicious, short, and in close quarters. Zombie fluids had flown nearly everywhere.

  Private Denton had been hit with some zombie gunk on his gloves, but he hadn’t known it at the time. A chronic nail biter, his fingertips were usually raw from being worked all the time by gnawing teeth. When he took his gloves off, some of the zombie fluid had gotten on his fingers and worked into the raw sores around his nub-like nails.

  The virus had taken a while to reach the vital areas and it was well past midnight when Private Zombie, formally Denton, opened his eyes to his new world. It was dark, but that was unimportant. There were sounds from all directions, causing a brief moment of confusion. Private Zombie jerked his head in the direction of a loud snore which suddenly erupted from the right side of the room. Private Zombie was aware of a hunger in his gut and in his mind. Feed. Eat. Now, now now! It was a call that would not, could not be denied. Wonderful smells of food permeated the air and the strength of the smells told him that prey was tantalizingly close. Private Zombie pushed himself erect, only to smack his head on the underside of the bunk above him. He fell back and tumbled out of the bed, causing a few of the lighter sleepers to mutter.

  Private Zombie pushed to his feet, the motions familiar but only vaguely, like a memory that stayed just out of reach. He turned his head slowly, locating a source of smell and sound. His eyes fell on his neighbor, Private Samwell.

  Private Samwell was snoring softly. He had no idea anything was amiss until he felt teeth ripping through his larynx. Arterial blood sprayed the ceiling, and Private Samwell struggled briefly, but rapidly weakened due to blood loss and was unable to push his attacker off. Private Zombie tore great chunks of flesh out of Samwell’s throat, then started tearing at the sweet meat around the chest and shoulders, working to get through the clothing to the succulent organs within.

  After twenty minutes, Private Zombie stood up, no longer interested in the former Private Samwell. Private Samwell had become infected with the virus and tasted different to Private Zombie, causing him to stop and look for more prey. Private Samwell sat up in his bunk, blood pouring out from numerous wounds. He stood up slowly, opening his mouth and flaring his nostrils as he took in the smells and sounds around him.

  Private Zombie moved over to the next bunk and, opening his bloody mouth as wide as it could go, fell on the throat of his next victim. Private Samwell, learning to walk again, fell against the top bunk of his bed and looked at the man sleeping there.

/>   Private Thames hated to be awakened from his sleep. The last time he had been awakened, he gave the unfortunate a severe beating for his trouble. This time, he was awakened rather rudely, as Private Samwell bit off his nose. Pain woke up Private Thames, and he gasped as his hands flew up to his bleeding face to find his nose was gone. He looked at his bloody hands, then shrieked as his bunkmate came in again and bit a huge chunk of his cheek away, exposing the teeth to the molars.

  The scream awakened several others and as they struggled to wake up fully, the zombies in their midst were upon them, biting and tearing. One by one, they fell to the disease. One by one, they rose again, seeking out their former comrades, overcome by their hunger for blood and flesh. Uniforms were red-covered as bits of flesh were torn away. The zombies moved quickly from victim to victim, the spreading virus keeping them away from those who would turn.

  Three men managed to make it into a closet, their raw fear palpable in the night. Outside the door it was feeding time for several zombies, two of the victims did not turn and they fed the hunger of the rest. Twenty men crossed the dividing line between human and zombie and not a single shot was fired.

  The men in the closet huddled down, fearful to make any noise whatsoever. They were all veterans of the Upheaval and knew they were only a short time away from being discovered.

  “Jesus, what the hell happened? Where did they come from?” one of the men whispered to the other.

  “Keep your damn voice down, they’ll hear us!” came the reply. “They didn’t come from anywhere, it was us that turned. Didn’t you see your friends eating each other?”