"Sheriff, are you sure we are safe in here?" Carter asked.
"We sure are, unless there has been a breach in the fence line, but I find that highly unlikely." Walking up to a large enclosed box he pulled open the door revealing a panel behind it containing several switches and a video screen. "Let me charge the fence and make sure we are indeed secure," he said flipping some switches on the panel. He closely examined the video screen, which provided him with status updates on the fence line and was pleased with what he was seeing.
"How does it look, Sheriff?" Connor asked, walking up next to Hobart.
"Everything looks secure from here; the fence line is charged, so try not to touch it," he said with a laugh, "or you will get the shock of your life."
"Good… That will keep the dead out and us safe inside, I hope."
"Come on; let's get up to the house, and I will show you around." Closing up the box, he walked back to the truck and climbed in.
It was only a short drive from the gate to the main house. None of them could believe the sheer size of the house as they pulled up out front. As they climbed out of the truck, they all peered up at the two-story building, complete with wrap-around deck on the second level. The lower level had heavy steel doors along with steel shutters on all the windows, and the upper level was almost as fortified, although the shutters did not look as heavy.
Hobart walked from the truck up to the front entrance of the giant house. Pulling a set of keys from his pocket, he unlocked the door, grabbed the handle and pushed it open–the heavy steel door allowing a rush of air to escape from inside. "The inside is pressurized when the doors and windows are sealed, just in case of a biological attack," he explained when he saw the shocked look on their faces.
"This place looks pretty impenetrable," Connor said aloud as he examined the outside of the building. "Sherriff, how much land do you have inside the fence line?"
Smiling back at the young man he laughed inside knowing what he was really asking. "Well, kid, there is about a half mile between the house and the fence, so there is a large kill zone if those things get inside the perimeter."
Stepping inside the house Hobart looked back at the people still standing outside. "Come on; we need to get organized, everyone inside." He stood just inside the door as they all filed past him. Once the last of them was inside, he sealed the door behind them, locking out the horror of the world–for now.
"Bedrooms are upstairs to the right; the one on the far end of the house is mine. You can pick from the others for yourselves. The third floor is the observation deck, complete with everything you need to keep unwanted guests from getting inside."
Sara took a seat at the large, wooden dining table finally feeling somewhat safe from the hordes of zombies that patrolled the streets in search of their next living meal. A tear began to trickle down her cheek as she started to think about her friends and family. What had become of them? Are they all still alive, or are they milling the streets in a mindless hunger?
Seeing the distressed look on Sara's face, Jameson moved over to her. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I…I don't know. This is all somewhat crazy right now, and I just do not know how to deal with it. My family and friends could all be dead or worse be one of those things, and it's hard to think about." Drawing in a deep breath, she looked up at him as she wiped the tears from her face, "Thanks for asking."
Taking a seat next to her, he moved in close. "I'm here for you if you need me," he whispered to her, not wanting the others to hear. Grasping her hand he gave it a gentle squeeze doing what he could to give her some sense of security in these difficult times.
Hobart walked back into the main room, shaking his head when he saw the two holding hands at the table. It was an odd time for the two to start up something, but he realized that in troubling times like these becoming close with another helped some to cope with their stress. Turning away from the pair, he looked over to Connor, "Would you and the captain follow me please. I want to show you the observation deck and armory."
"Sure thing, Sheriff," he replied. Looking over at Carter he saw the soldier already on his feet and moving in their direction, so he quickly followed Hobart. The trio ascended the large wooden staircase, taking it up to the second level. Stopping in front of another heavy steel door, which Hobart quickly unlocked and opened, revealing another set of stairs heading up to the observation deck.
"This is the entry to the third floor. I keep it secured for two reasons. First, our weapons cache is up here; secondly, and most importantly, the third floor is not as protected as the lower levels. We don't know for sure how agile the dead are so better safe than sorry," he said with a chuckle.
The three men climbed the steep set of metal stairs emerging into a room with thick glass windows and a three hundred and sixty degree view of the area around the property. In the middle of the room was a large metal case secured by three padlocks that hung from the door.
Turning to the pair, Hobart had a big smile on his face. "This is the observation deck, and as you can clearly see, we have a full view of the area." Walking to the window overlooking the front of the house, he grabbed the edge of one of the windows, "Bullet resistant glass and air tight. Each of these can open, which provides us with a firing point if needed."
Walking up to a window Carter closely examined both the window and the line of fire. He was more than pleased with how this room was set up, providing him with a clear line of sight all the way around the property. "This is impressive, Sheriff. You did a fine job building this place."
"Thank you, Captain, but please let me show you the rest; it gets better." Walking across the room, he approached another steel door and quickly unlocked it. "Follow me, gentlemen," stepping out the door into the bright sunlight. As soon as the two men stepped outside, he motioned for them to have a look around the outside area. "This will provide you with a completely unencumbered view of the property, plus," motioning to the giant binoculars that were mounted every few feet on the wall, "these will help you target those things."
Connor walked up to one of the giant glasses pleased that they were set high enough that he didn't have to bend down to use them. Peering through the giant lenses he was amazed to see three walkers milling around the gate to the property. Stepping back, "Sheriff, we have some company at the entry fence," pointing toward the zombies.
A smile reappeared on Hobart's face when he heard this. Spinning around he quickly opened a large metal cabinet mounted to the outside wall and pulled out a high-powered sniper rifle. "Well, we can't have those things around–time to take out the trash," he said chuckling as he walked up to the wall.
"Uh, Sheriff, won't the noise of that thing bring more of them here?" Connor asked.
Looking away from the scope, Hobart lowered his head. "You are right, kid, maybe I should put the silencer on before popping those things."
"Here, Sheriff, I think this is what you need," Carter said handing him a black metal cylinder. "Even with that thing in place the noise may still draw those things. When we were back at the warehouse, the slightest little noise had them charging, damn things hear everything."
"We shall soon see. The closest town is almost twenty miles from here, so unless they have super hearing, we should be alright."
Carter just stared at Hobart knowing that the dead do indeed have some acute hearing, but the man needed to learn on his own. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," pointing back at the metal case, "there are four more in there." Looking at Connor, "You are more than welcome to give this a try if you like; grab a rifle."
Reaching into the case Carter pulled out another of the rifles and handed it to Connor then reached back in and pulled one out for him. Once he was sure it was loaded, he placed the silencer on the end of the barrel and took up a position at the wall. "Let's make a contest out of this," he said as he peered through the scope. "There are three of them down there, so let's see which one of
us gets the best kill shot."
Hobart quickly agreed to the contest, but Connor hesitated. "Those things used to be people like us. Do you really think we should amuse ourselves by killing them?" The thought disgusted him even though he had already killed several of the creatures, but these currently were not a threat, so he was having trouble justifying this.
"Listen, kid, those things aren't alive anymore. They are mindless killing machines with an insatiable hunger for living flesh, so shooting them helps us both," Hobart told him.
"How does it help us both?"
"It keeps us safer getting rid of them, and honestly, it releases them from a life or death as one of those things."
Hobart had a point. He couldn't imagine the way they were now milling around aimlessly discriminately killing any living thing they come across to satisfy their hunger for the living. "Alright, I see your point, but as for making this a contest, you can count me out."
"Alright, suit yourself, but remember, we may be the only living humans left, so we have to do what we need to survive." Raising his rifle Hobart took aim on the furthest of the walkers and pulled the trigger. The zombie's right side of its head exploded from the heavy impact as the bullet tore through its skull, sending it to the ground in a bloody heap.
"Good shot, Sheriff, but a little off center," Carter muttered as he took aim on the next.
"I forgot to take the wind speed into account, pushed my round a bit."
A smile crossed Carter's face as he pulled his trigger, sending the deadly round hurtling across the open expanse. The bullet found its mark dead center on the forehead of the female walker, tearing the back of its head completely off. "Right on target," Carter said as he watched the creature fall to the ground.
"Now your shot, Connor," Hobart said pointing at the remaining zombie. Seeing the hesitation and the look of pain in the young man's face, he moved closer to him. "Don't think of it as a contest. This is practice for when you may need to be accurate with your aim, so take that thing down."
Connor moved closer to the wall, slowly raising his rifle, peering through the scope at the remaining zombie. He could tell from the clothing that the thing wore that it had been a younger male, maybe a teen like his brother, but now, as Hobart told him, it was just a mindless killer. Placing the crosshairs directly on the center of the head, he took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.
"You missed," Captain Carter announced. "How did you miss?"
"I...I don't really know how; I had the scope dead center on the head."
Carter examined the scope on Connors rifle and quickly saw the reason for the errant shot. "Kid, you need to correct for the wind and the distance. Haven't you ever shot a weapon with a scope?"
"No, sir, I have not from this great of a distance."
Hobart let out a small laugh. "Connor, this is why we wanted you to get this practice. You may need to know how to use one of those things in the future, so this is completely necessary."
The sheriff was right; he did need to know how to use a weapon like this. "Okay, can you show me what I did wrong?"
A short while later Carter and Hobart had gone over the finer points of using a sniper rifle, and both thought that Connor was ready for another shot. Stepping up to the wall he raised his rifle and once again peered through the scope. Making a few adjustments for distance and wind velocity, he again aimed at his target and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out as the round followed its course, piercing the front of the zombie's skull just above the left eye, dropping it to the ground.
"Good shot, young man," Captain Carter said as he placed a hand on Conner's shoulder. "You learn well."
"Thank you, sir, I just wish it was under different circumstances," Connor replied lowering his rifle and keeping his stare firmly on the spot where the dead zombie had fallen.
"Connor, look at me," Hobart yelled trying to snap him out of his trance. "You have to remember… That thing was already dead. You did not kill a person; you killed an abomination, and we are safer for it."
CHAPTER 12 – THE TRANSMISSION
A few days had passed since their arrival, and no other dead had approached the compound. Each of them was feeling the sense of relief and safety as they began to think that maybe the worst was past, and things had started to return to normal. Hobart had set up a daily schedule for each of them, taking four-hour shifts monitoring the radio, listening for any transmissions indicating that things had changed for the better.
Sara plopped down into the oversized chair in the living room, getting herself comfortable after relieving Connie from her radio watch. Her shift had just begun, and as usual, nothing but snow filled the television screen along with static on the radio waves. Nothing had come across anything in four days, and she was bored having to continue monitoring these channels. Reaching over the arm of the chair, she started digging through one of the side table drawers hoping to find something to read, which would help her to stay awake for the next four hours.
"Is anyone still out there?" the radio crackled.
Jumping up from her seat Sara looked around to see who was messing with her when the message repeated, "Is anyone still out there?"
Rushing over the radio she tried to remember what the sheriff had told her to do so that she could answer any calls. Grabbing the microphone, she pressed the button on the side, "Yes, this is Sara Collins. Who are you?"
The static continued for a few seconds, which had her worried that she had waited too long to answer the call until the male voice returned.
"This is General Miles, United States Air Force. What is your situation?"
"We are safe for the moment in a large compound, but I'm not exactly sure where we are."
"You say we. How many of you are there?'
"There are six of us left. What's going on out there?"
"The outbreak has grown out of control. Currently seventy-five percent of the country has been infected, and there is no end in sight."
"Is this just here–in our country?"
"No, I am afraid not. We have reports coming in from several places around the world. It appears that we are not alone in this."
"What can we do?" she slowly asked him.
"Right now the only thing you can do is avoid contact with the infected. A scratch, bite or contact with the creature's blood will infect you. There is no cure, so it is pretty much a death sentence if you are infected."
Hesitating for a moment, she thought about what to say next when she decided it was better to go get the captain. "Hold on for a minute; I am getting Captain Carter. He is with the army, and he should hear this." Dropping the microphone, she ran up to the captain's room knocking loudly before entering, not bothering to wait for a reply. "Captain, I have some general on the radio, and I figured it was best for you to talk with him," she yelled.
Jumping up from his bunk, Carter automatically reached for his sidearm figuring that this interruption had to be because of an attack. Seeing the young girl standing in the doorway, he lowered his weapon and groggily asked what she wanted.
"Like I said, there is some general on the radio. He is asking what our situation is, and I figured since you were military, you might want to talk to him."
Grabbing his shirt off the chair he quickly pulled it over his head as he followed Sara out the door. "You said a general?"
"Yeah, from the air force, I think. The stuff he told me was not good, so I knew that you should talk to him."
The pair stopped in front of the radio, and Carter grabbed the microphone. "General, this is Captain Carter, US Army, what is the situation?"
"Well, Captain, as I was telling the young lady… Things are bad. The infection has grown out of control. We are losing contact with cities all around the country at an alarming rate."
Taking a seat in front of the radio, Carter ran his hand through his shortly cut hair as he tried to come to grip with what was happening. The country was falling to this outbreak, overrun by millions of walking dead. What
was next–the world? "Sir, that is not good news, not at all. Is there anything that we can do to stop this?"
"Well, Captain, the only thing we have on this outbreak is stored at the laboratory in Appleton, where this all started. How far from there are you, and do you have enough people to make it there? We need to know how this all started and if they have anything to fight it.'
"Sir, I cannot speak for the others, but I am willing to go."
There was a long pause on the radio before the general continued. "Captain, that is very admirable of you, but one person out there, especially at ground zero, is definitely a no win scenario. Keep yourself there with the others; we are working on putting together a team here and may be able to get there in the next few days."
"You can count us all in," Connor said from behind Carter.
Spinning around in his seat, he saw the others standing behind him. "It is an extremely dangerous mission. We will run into thousands of those things."
Hobart stepped forward, "We know the risk, but getting there and finding out if there is some type of cure is more than worth it."
Looking over at the four others, he saw they all agreed with the sheriff. Turning back to the radio he keyed the microphone, "Well, General, it appears that we will all be going. We will need the coordinates for the facility along with what we are looking for."
"Are you sure you and Sara want to go?" Connor asked Jameson
Looking over at Sara, he saw the smile and slight nod of her head, "Yes, we are going. We have no idea how many of those things we will encounter along the way or how many are at the facility, so the more firepower we have the better."
He was right and Connor knew it. His brother had matured drastically in the last few days, going from an immature teenager to a man in such a short time. "Alright, then we all go." Turning to Captain Carter, "When do we leave?"
"As soon as we load food and weapons into the truck, we move out."
"Okay, sounds good, let's get to it. Maybe we can find something that will help us end this nightmare."
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