by Brian Parker
The tide was turning back east because of some new type of weapon that the forces were using to incapacitate the zombies and then they would wipe up the remnants, but the general was unwilling to share that intelligence with the men from Indianapolis. He did, however, provide them with updates on a monthly basis and food and ammo to sustain themselves, but until the D.C. mess was straightened out, the Brits were on orders only to quarantine the city and kill anyone or anything trying to escape.
As Grayson and Bill walked towards the entrance, they were handed a surgical mask and gloves. Before they could put those on, they were each patted down by a British corporal wearing a full HAZMAT suit to ensure that they didn’t have any weapons. Next, they went into a little tent next to the entryway and sat on camp stools as they were bathed in UV light for five minutes. Finally, they put on their masks and gloves and were allowed to go inside the building for their monthly meeting.
Once inside, they saw two other men and two women who had been similarly disinfected already seated around a table. Grayson waived to the group while Bill made conversation. That they knew of, these six people represented the last known pockets of human occupation within the quarantined city of Indianapolis. The other four communities had similar stories to theirs, but were too far apart to be mutually supportive like Grayson and Bill’s communities had been able to become.
“Major General Sir Ian Clarke, Commander of His Majesty’s Prince of Wales’ Division, please stand,” the Colour Sergeant manning the interior door said.
“We know who the hell he is already. Damned Brits,” one of the men said as they all stood.
“Right then. So you know who I am. Good to know, that,” the general said as he walked in. “Please, take your seats.”
“No disrespect sir, just sayin’ we don’t have to be so formal all the time,” the same man replied.
“Actually, I do. It reminds you that I was placed in command of the quarantine of this city by your president. Once we rid the area of these dreadful creatures and you are free to go, then we may possibly dispense with the formalities.
“So, now that we have that nasty bit of administration out of the way, let’s get down to business. Does anyone need anything from me right now?”
“Yeah, we need to know when we’re gonna be allowed to leave the city,” Grayson said. “We’ve been patient, but now that we know the rest of the States are safe and that it wasn’t a nationwide outbreak, we’re stuck in an area infested with zombies and we’d like to get out of here.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I please remind you that Indianapolis is currently a biological nightmare. Even discounting the zombies, which obviously we cannot, the sheer amount of dead things lying around is enough to leave this city quarantined for three or four years during some type of cleanup.” He held up his hands against the protests and continued, “I’m not advocating that approach for your people, but face it, you’ve killed a lot of these things and so have we. They’ve been sitting out all summer long. This place constantly smells of death and disease. Even once we get the clearance to allow you to leave, or at least moved behind my line of troops for further observation, we’re going to have to burn millions of bodies and probably billions of dollars worth of structures and textiles. There’s no telling the final cost to your nation.
“Your concerns are noted, I assure you,” the general remarked. “However, until President Holmes allows for your release, you must remain in the city. The United Kingdom has also provided our top scientists to assist your nation’s scientists to determine the status of this disease. Until the proper clearances are developed and granted, however, I simply cannot allow you to leave.”
“What about pregnant women?” asked Chante, the woman from the southeast side’s Fourth Street Commons. “We’ve got three women who are set to give birth in the next month or so.” Grayson nodded his assent, he was especially interested in this as well since Jamie was about four months along with their child.
“The World Health Organization has provided us with a team of twenty doctors. I will have my staff determine if any of them are obstetricians. If that is the case we will send them to you when you call for assistance on the radios we’ve provided for you. You will need to be prepared to deliver the babies yourself though since your communities are so far spread.”
As unstructured meetings tended to do, it went back and forth over several interrelated areas, but ultimately it was centered on two main topics: Zombies and the various requirements of the communities. They needed more medical supplies and ammo, they always needed ammo. Bill Downs’ initial assertion to Grayson that they had enough ammunition was grossly underestimated. He’d based that assessment on years of fighting human beings in Vietnam, not against zombies, who could absorb literally a hundred rounds if you didn’t hit them in the brain. Marksmanship, especially early on was not nearly what it needed to be, but those poor marksmen who were foolish enough to venture beyond neighborhood perimeters were long gone.
General Clarke, gracious as always, promised more ammunition. The Colour Sergeant knocked discretely and poked his head through the door. “Pardon the interruption, sir. President Holmes is on the phone and has asked to be patched into the meeting for a few minutes,” he said.
“Of course, please bring him up then,” the general said.
The sergeant walked to the table, tapped a few keys on the telephone in the center of the table and said, “I’ve got Major General Clarke, Prince of Wales’ Division online, are you there?”
“Roger, I’ve got you loud and clear. Please wait one moment for the president,” a female voice said through the phone’s speaker.
After a few seconds, the president’s voice came through the speaker, “Good morning Ian, I understand that you’re just finishing up your meeting with the community leaders from Indianapolis, is that right?”
“Yes sir. They are all seated around the table and we can hear you splendidly,” the general said.
“Alright, good morning everyone. I’ve been receiving reports from General Clarke on an almost daily basis about your communities. Let me first say that I’m proud of you. Each and every one of you has done an outstanding job and you represent the true heart and soul of our nation.
“I also want to thank you. You have my gratitude for your sacrifices and I assure you that we are doing all we can to identify this disease and get you all cleared to get the hell out of Indianapolis and let Ian and his boys go in there and clear out our city.
“I have our nation’s best scientists working on this issue and they assure me that we get closer to an answer every day. Believe me, determining if this infection is transferred by any other means besides bodily fluids is their number one priority. Then, after we know that, we’ll begin working on a cure or vaccinations against the spread of the disease.
“I know you are worried about your families and about a whole host of other problems, but we will do everything we can for you. You just need to be patient and protect yourselves against these things. I’ve got time for a few questions, this is your chance to ask the President of the United States any question you wish.”
“No offense sir, but I’d rather we don’t have British troops on our soil. What are you doing to get more American troops out here to Indiana?” said the man who’d spoken earlier about formalities.
“I have full faith and confidence in our British allies. They’re absolutely the force we need on site right now in order to secure our nation and help ease the near-overwhelming burden that’s been placed on our troops. The fight in DelMarVa is going extremely well and we’ve been able to take back hundreds of square miles as we tighten our ring of troops around the region. The fighting has been difficult and it gets harder the further we push towards the center of the blast zone because our troops have to fight in full protective radiation suits since the area that they’re in has heavy radioactive contamination.
“We’re holding steady with less and less crime every day across the co
untry due to the National Guard units in each state and we’re gaining ground every day. Before too long, this will be merely an interesting, if controversial, footnote in American History. Ok next question.”
“Sir, this is Grayson Donnelly from Three Pillars. You mentioned that after identifying the means of transmission, our scientists would be working on a cure or vaccine. I’ve had plenty of up close personal contact with these things. They’re dead people who are walking around trying to kill us. There’s no cure. I think you may be doing American citizens a disservice by suggesting otherwise. Primarily, it may affect how someone defends themselves against the zombies if they think there’s a chance that Aunt Sally can be cured.”
“That’s a good point Mr. Donnelly. I hadn’t thought about it that way, I’ll take that under advisement. It’s always better to under promise and over deliver my old economics instructor used to say,” the president responded.
“This is Chante Lewis. I’ve talked to the British general about it already, but we need more medical support. We have three women who are going to give birth any day now and he doesn’t even know if any of the doctors from the WHO are OB/GYNs.”
“I appreciate that sentiment Ms. Lewis. We’ll work on getting more medical personnel to Indianapolis, but we have to be careful. Until we know for sure that the disease isn’t airborne, I don’t want to risk assigning doctors to go in and potentially contracting the infection. What I will do is broadcast your request. If there are volunteers who agree to go into the area and stay until the threat is contained, then we get a win-win. You receive the needed medical assistance and I didn’t needlessly order highly valuable doctors and nurses to their deaths.”
“Sir, this is Bill Downs, Pecan Valley, retired SEAL Master Chief Petty Officer…”
“I’ve read your file Dr. Downs, thank you for your service. How are you doing?” the president responded immediately.
“I’ve been better sir. I’m not a virologist, but with all the fighting I’ve seen in cooperation with the Three Pillars folks, I would bet my life that the Alex-C virus isn’t airborne or that you could catch it from secondary contact. Hell, even direct contact with these things is fine as long as they don’t bite you or get some of their bodily fluids into an open wound or body orifice.”
“Well, like you said Doctor, you’re not a virologist. You may be willing to bet your life on it, but I’m not willing to bet the lives of every man, woman and child in this nation, maybe even on the planet, if you’re wrong. So until we complete our study, you’re sitting tight.”
“I’ll give that to you sir,” Bill continued. “But what I really want to know is when you’re going to authorize General Clarke here to go into the city and begin clearing out the zombies. Hell, I know you’ve authorized him to kill anything that gets within half a mile of the quarantine zone, but why are they still sitting out here on the perimeter? Every day they sit here is another opportunity for one of our communities to be overran, just like what happened last month to Clear Creek,” he finished gesturing to the empty chair that was formerly occupied by the leader of that development before it was wiped out by a massive horde of zombies.
“I’m really upset about Mr. Gains and everyone from the community of Clear Creek. We had no way of knowing that would happen. My advisors tell me that it was a fluke. There are one or two massive groups of zombies in Indianapolis that are swept from one location to the next and they happened to find Clear Creek. Satellite video seems to show that the crowd was agitated in some way and they reacted until the walls broke. I’ve authorized General Clark to conduct gun runs over the city when they see large groups gathering on satellite, but you also need to ensure your walls are shored up with the construction materials I’ve provided for you and that you don’t have any weak points, like sewer tunnels or unreinforced gates.
“However, I won’t authorize General Clarke to take his men into the city until we can guarantee overwhelming odds against our enemies and ensure that the disease isn’t airborne. The British Parliament has agreed to support us and trusted that I would make the right decisions regarding the lives of their soldiers.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen. I’ve got to attend another meeting. I appreciate the time that we were able to spend together today talking. Keep up the good work and we’ll get you through this. God speed.”
The telephone disconnected with an audible click. “Why do I get the feeling that we were just used to get several sound bites for the evening news?” Grayson asked to no one in particular.
“That’s because we were,” Bill said as he stood up to leave.
***
04 September, 1321 hrs local
Three Pillars Estates
Indianapolis, Indiana
“Alright buddy, I’ll see you in a few days when we have our harvest meeting,” Grayson said as he shook Bill’s hand through the passenger window of the SUV they’d ridden together in after the meeting with Major General Clarke.
“Sounds good Grayson. I’ll see you then. Be sure to tell that lovely little lady of yours that I said hello,” he answered then rolled up the window and waved as his truck pulled away from the front gate followed by the armored escort trucks that the Brits had given them.
Grayson returned the wave then gave a mock two-finger salute in the direction of the retreating convoy. He surveyed the surrounding area, then turned back towards the wall of his home and yelled up, “Hey Sam, its Grayson. I’m back, can you throw down the ladder?”
Sam’s head appeared over the wall with a grin. “Get anything useful from that limey Brit, like a cannon or a tank?” he asked as he heaved a collapsible aluminum emergency fire escape ladder over the wall.
“Naw, but he did say we would get more ammo,” he replied as he lifted the strap of his rifle over his head so it was slung across his body while he climbed the swaying ladder. “Maybe some more doctors before too long.”
He accepted Sam’s hand and heaved his legs over the wall. The look of expectation was clear on the faces of Sam and his three gate personnel. Grayson shook his head and said, “Nope, we’ve still gotta sit tight and stay alive for a little while longer.” Their expectant smiles faltered and were replaced by the look of the war-weary. “I actually spoke to the president on the phone this morning. He won’t send in the Brits on offense yet, but he did say the war back east is going really well and we should expect help before too long.”
“What does that mean? We’ve been waiting for help for almost four months,” Tyrone asked. He was the best marksman the community had so he spent most of his time on the walls picking off the zombies before they got too close.
“It means that we keep doing what we’re doing and we’ll get out of this alright, ok?” Grayson said with a playful punch to his shoulder. “How’s the hunting today?”
“I got one out on the north side right after you left and we had four of them attack our clearing party a few hours ago. I got two, the guys on the ground got the other two when they got too close for me to risk shooting,” he said beaming with pride while he patted Grayson’s former 30.06 hunting rifle.
They’d systematically been clearing fields of fire completely around the neighborhood almost immediately after they’d finished planting the crops. There were several close calls that convinced the residents that they needed more of a standoff capability, for both visibility and for a clear firing lane. The first things to go were trees and underbrush since they were the easiest, but the houses ended up going pretty quickly also once they picked up a backhoe and figured out how to use it.
Now they had over two hundred feet in all directions with nothing but open ground for the zombies to cross. But they still needed to keep the grasses down and unless they wanted to burn down the remainder of Indianapolis, that meant they had to go out and use riding and push mowers. They’d figured out the noise attracted zombies, but there was little they could do besides remain hyper vigilant while the crews were out.
“Good job man. Keep up t
he good work, we need you up here,” Grayson said, feeling like a fool for repeating the president’s propaganda. “Alright, I’ve gotta go check in on Jamie, let her know that I’m ok. She gets more worried when I go visit the Brits than when I go out hunting zombies.”
“She outta. How many wars have we fought with those dudes?” Tyrone asked. “Hell, this is the only war we’ve ever fought with the Zs, man.”
“I guess I can’t argue with logic like that,” Grayson chuckled. “Take it easy guys, I’ll see you soon.”
He climbed down the other side and began the walk back to the home he shared with Jamie. They quickly realized that they couldn’t stay with the Longs after they became a couple, so they took up residence in one of the empty houses in the neighborhood, the family that owned it was on vacation when the outbreak occurred, so the community took possession of it, believing that the entire nation was in the same life and death fight they were. Once the British showed up and gave them some information from the outside world, they justified it with the certainty that Indianapolis would be a wasteland for years to come and no one would be allowed to return.
He saw that Jamie was seated on the porch while he was still a few blocks away. She was in the middle of some yoga pose that she said relaxed her. She’d tried many times to get him to do yoga, but he’d always had reasons for avoiding it until about two months ago, now he enjoyed the bond that the workout and stretching created between the two of them. Besides, he loved the way she looked while she was stretching and he could usually convince her to fool around about halfway through her routine, but he still could not remember the names of the damn moves.
Her pregnancy was just beginning to show and she had a tiny little pooch to her stomach when she bent forward now. Grayson was absolutely thrilled that he was going to be a father, but he prayed daily that the zombie threat would be eliminated before the baby was born. He absently wondered if the Chante’s community was prepared for the increased zombie presence that was sure to follow once the babies began crying into the night. Tomorrow morning, he’d go down to the playground parking lot where they stored their building material and see what they had left, then he’d take a trip around the perimeter to see if there were any spots that needed shoring up.
