Hunger Driven (Book 2): Fight the Hunger

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Hunger Driven (Book 2): Fight the Hunger Page 12

by Allen, William


  The interview room was used to debrief the refugees coming in, and I was using it for a similar purpose. Northcutt might have talked me into considering taking in these young ladies, but they still had to pass my interview. If they couldn’t pull their weight, I would send them out to take care of themselves. I wasn’t running a charity, after all. Except, of course, I was. Damn it.

  The door opened and I had to set aside my musings for the moment. I recognized the girl, of course, from our brief time together, but I had to look down at the index card to get her name. I stood and stuck out my hand, which she took in a strong grip.

  “Kate Harsted?” I asked.

  “That’s me, Mr. McCoy,” she replied steadily.

  “Thank you for meeting me here, Ms. Harsted. The folks here explain what is going on?”

  “Yes, sir. Sort of a job interview for me, and the others, too.”

  I nodded. “Something like that. First, I understand you have a degree in electrical engineering from Lamar University. Is that correct?”

  It was her turn to nod, then she elaborated. “I got my degree last year, and I was working out at Exxon when this all started. Do you need some help getting a refinery up and running? I know a little, but not enough by myself to single hand a refinery. You’ll need a process engineer and a whole bunch of operators.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her eagerness. She was an attractive girl in a clean-scrubbed, tomboy manner. She had a light complexion in that Scandinavian way, feathery blonde hair, and bright blue eyes that seemed to spark with excitement. This was a far cry from the broken and downcast look I’d seen her wearing last.

  “Not me, but I know the colonel is thinking of doing just that in a few months. I’m looking for someone to help me with the PV system at the marina where I live. I know we have enough panels, but for some reason, the backup generator is kicking in constantly, and we keep having trouble maintaining batteries at over half charge. That’s not the only thing, but I need the services of an electrician or someone else with experience in the field.”

  Kate started asking some fairly technical questions about the system, and I had to hold up a hand, halting the flow of questions.

  “I barely know how to check the gauges. You’ll need to talk to Ken Satterwhite about all that. He is a crackerjack mechanic and is in charge of transport at our place. He knows batteries, but that’s about it. Everything we know about solar systems came from reading the instructions on the boxes.”

  Kate smiled at my words, and then forced a stern look that that somehow seemed alien to her face. I had a feeling this capable young woman was typically a cheerful sort. When she spoke, I understood what she was doing. Laying boundaries.

  “All right. That all sounds fine, but let’s be clear up front. I’ve heard good things about you around here, but I’m not sleeping with you, okay? Clear enough? That’s what I just escaped from, and I don’t need to be pawed or gawked at by creepers. Can you guarantee this for me, and for the others?”

  I liked her straightforward attitude and gave her a quick rundown on our personnel, stressing that Ken and Patty were married and the wife was a way better shot than her husband.

  “Don’t be eyeballing her man and you will get along fine. As for me, well, you are pretty enough, but I’m old enough to be your father. Plus, you won’t hardly ever see me around anyway.”

  “Because you will be out working?”

  I didn’t know how to react to her question, so I just nodded before answering. “That’s what I do. Think of it as aggressive funeral services, if you want. They are dead, by just about any measure. There’s some brain activity, sure, but there’s no heartbeat, and the stuff that passes for blood, well, it ain’t human blood.”

  Kate looked hard at me again, her eyes probing for something. “You don’t do it for fun, do you? Shooting them, I mean.”

  “Not hardly. It serves a purpose. Like I told the Doc, I do it to clear space for the living. We’ve got more survivors coming in all the time, and the colonel wants to have adequate security and housing for them. I get paid, sort of, from what I pick up after I complete the job, but I’m not out there looting Xboxes or Jordans.”

  Seeing the confusion on her face at that last one, I just said it was before her time.

  “So in addition to the electrical and power demands, what else would you have me doing?”

  “Working in the fields, helping with the kids, and pulling guard duty. That’s about it. Really, about what you would be doing here, inside these walls, but a wider range of duties.”

  “You got walls? I heard your place is fortified, too. I’m not really looking to live out in the wild anymore. Too much of a chance to get eaten.”

  I realized somewhere along the line my interview had gone off the rails and at this point, the young lady was interviewing me. I felt a start that I didn’t really mind. She was bright and intelligent but seemed older, more mature, than her years would indicate. I guess surviving the zombie apocalypse and being forced to serve as a slave could do that to you.

  I didn’t ask her about her traumas, whatever they might be, and she didn’t volunteer. All I knew was she passed her physical and the psyche evaluation. They didn’t call it that, of course, but some people needed longer in quarantine that others.

  “Yes, we have walls, and we patrol them as manpower—personnel—permits. With more people, we can do more along those lines.”

  “You do seem to be a bit … understaffed based on my understanding of what your group has managed to secure.” Kate said this carefully, as if picking her words.

  “That’s because I am an asshole and some claim I am hard to get along with. But like I said, you won’t see me very often and Roxy basically runs the place in my absence.”

  “She’s the lady that keeps taking in all the orphans? I heard about her, too. If you have kids there, you will love Shelly.”

  I looked at the list in front of me and found a name.

  “That would be Ms. Considine? Michelle Considine?”

  Kate laughed an amused chuckle, and then held up a hand, as if asking for me to ignore some breach of etiquette.

  “Sorry, it’s just, I didn’t even know Shelly’s last name. She is as close to a sister as I have ever had, and I only knew her as Shelly. Isn’t that funny?”

  “No, not really,” I replied. My voice held a distant quality as I continued, thinking about my relationship with Roxy. “When you are facing the worst of circumstances, a total stranger can become like family. But what is it about Shelly that you think will wow me?”

  “Well, before all this, she was an elementary school teacher, you know? I can just imagine how the kids will take to her.”

  I decided right there I would offer spots to both Kate and Shelly without any reservation, but Kate surprised me when she continued.

  “Of course, wherever we go, we all go together. The other girls are all younger, and Shelly and I have decided that we will do whatever we can to protect them. They’ve all been through so much, you see? Even Casey, who acts like nothing can bother her, is more vulnerable than you could possibly realize. I’m only saying anything because I want to be upfront with you. The six of us, together, are a package deal.”

  Up until that point, I thought of Doctor Gooden, Kelly, as the leader of this group, but I realized that while she might have been the immediate cause of their escape, Kate here was the real leader of the escapees. Doc was a trusted ally, but unless I missed my guess, Kate was the one they all looked to for support and guidance.

  I had to force my head to rise and fall in a nod to Kate. “We have the rooms, but I will need to salvage some extra supplies for you ladies. That may be a few days, as I have a contract with the Guard to fill at the moment, but I will get on outfitting you ladies as soon as I can after that work is complete.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McCoy.”

  I could tell my response took a load off her narrow shoulders by the way she gave a short sigh.


  “You are welcome, Miss Harsted. And please call me Brad.”

  “Okay, but I’m Kate to you if we are going to be working together.”

  “That will be fine, Kate. I’ll need to talk to the others about this offer. First, though, I’d imagine you’d like a chance to brief the other ladies in your group. Why don’t you do that, and I’ll go take care of some other business I have here in the zone.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. Who do you want to speak with next?”

  “Let’s see,” I said, pausing to look down at the list again and thinking about what Kate had already shared with me.

  “Ah, I’ll talk to Shelly next. Say, at three-thirty? I really need to check in with the colonel, and I don’t know how long that will take. If it runs later, I’ll ask him to send a runner to notify Shelly. Ms. Considine, I mean.”

  Kate agreed and again we shook hands as I rose to leave.

  “You have really rough hands, Mr. McCoy. Like a real working man. What did you do before, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  I laughed. “I was an accountant. And please, you can really call me Brad. I didn’t get these callouses until recently, but I earned every one of them.”

  With that, I left Kate to her own thoughts and headed out to try to finagle a few minutes with Colonel Northcutt. In addition to the new behavior I needed to report, I’d been batting some ideas around in my head, and I wanted to share my thoughts with the man in charge. He might not use any of my ideas, but at least I knew the man would listen. In my position, that was all I could ask.

  My words to Captain Natushek were not hype. We needed to change the way we dealt with the dead. Simply managing them and killing only to expand our territory was no longer enough. The time had come for slaughter, pure and simple. Extermination on a wholesale basis was critical if we planned to survive.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “You want to do what?”

  Doctor Gooden simply couldn’t help herself. My suggestion did sound sort of ludicrous on the surface. She was already apparently finishing up a meeting with the colonel when I arrived, and for some reason he asked her to stay.

  “As I said, I want to build a special lane into the existing highway so we can channelize the zombies and lure them through town and out of the way.”

  Colonel Northcutt chuckled at my words, at the idea of building a zombie express lane, but I could also see they were sparking some thought as well.

  “You think we are going to continue seeing an increased number of the dead wandering toward town? And you think it is related to the latest developments we’ve discussed?”

  “Yes, sir. Out at the compound, we’ve already seen a heavy increase in the numbers. Led, I think, by some of the older generation of zeds. If not First Wave, then pretty darned close to it. And that’s not all.”

  I went on to explain about not only checking wallets but also about the elusive First Waver I had been forced to kill out on the highway. Kelly Gooden flinched but Northcutt simply nodded again.

  “That’s what my guys have seen as well. But why do we want to usher them through town? What destination do you have in mind?”

  “The sand pit out off Waverly, Colonel. We can lead them there and then dispose of them all together.”

  I could see the colonel processing my suggestion. Looking for weaknesses, and maybe improving on the bare bones of a plan. He checked the map on his desk and squinted, running his finger along the grid work of streets.

  “That might cut us off from Jasper, Mr. McCoy. Or if they break through the cordon, we could end up sending them into downtown Livingston. Which is still being swept even now, but is nearly zombie free at the moment. This plan might work, but let me talk to some of my officers and work out alternatives. Overall, though, I think I see where you are heading.”

  Jasper. Shit. I forgot about that. I nodded along at the colonel’s words. That’s why he had the eagle on his insignia on his collar, and I had, well, nothing.

  “Do you think it will really be necessary?” Kelly asked, still trying to catch up with our sense of urgency. I wondered if the colonel briefed her on the events in McKinney and decided it wasn’t my problem.

  “At some point, yes,” the colonel replied. “If they are changing, then Dr. Singh will be able to give us some intel. Mr. McCoy is correct, even if the good doctor’s tests prove to be inconclusive. We need to start cutting the numbers of the dead significantly, and this will allow us to do so while also removing the threat of a superhorde forming up nearby. But like I said, let me take a look at the alternatives, and we will nail down a plan.”

  Grabbing a yellow legal pad, Northcutt began jotting down notes and muttering to himself. Taking this as my dismissal, I rose and extended my hand, getting a firm handshake back from the officer.

  “Good thinking, Brad. If you have any other ideas, please feel free to share. You are one of my experts when it comes to the mobile dead and their activities, you know.”

  Mobile dead. Hah. I liked that one, but I’d heard it before too. Just about all the good zombie euphemisms got used at one point or another. And just like my idea, I’m sure this experienced officer already had a binder full of good ideas just waiting to be implemented.

  “Blood bombs,” Dr. Gooden suddenly barked out, nearly shouting the words.

  “What?” we said nearly simultaneously.

  “Sandoval used bags of blood taken from our hospital. His men would toss them into a group of zeds as a lure, making them form up. You know the effect the scent of fresh blood has on them, right? Well, if he wanted to clear them out from a store, he would send one of his men out to the edge of the parking lot and pop a bag. Once they got the blood smell, they would come streaming out of the store and leave it nearly empty. Take out the crawlers quietly and there you go.”

  It was so simple I wanted to smack my head. We’d all seen it, of course. Once a zombie got their teeth into a victim, more of the dead would stream in out of the woodwork for a taste. I’d lost one of our crew out of Houston that way, bitten and then swarmed under at a rest stop where we were trying to syphon gas for the van.

  His name was Jose Guzman, and he was nineteen years old. Once the scent of his blood was in the air, the scattered zombies suddenly energized and hustled in for a bite. I killed dozens and still they came. Until I die, I will always remember his name, and his last agonizing scream. I still hear it in my sleep.

  “Yeah,” I muttered, trying to draw myself back into the here and now. “That would certainly come in handy at times.”

  “Mr. McCoy,” Northcutt intoned, “you finish up your collection job for Dr. Singh, and we’ll talk more.”

  “You got it, boss,” I replied and headed for the door.

  Dr. Gooden, apparently finished as well, rose and made to follow so I held open the heavy metal fire door to allow her passage as well. We’d appropriated as many of these metal doors as possible from the surrounding communities and retrofitted buildings with them as we could. Anything to hold back a swarm if the perimeter was breached and buy us a few extra minutes.

  As I headed for the front door of the Guard headquarters building, I noticed the doctor had fallen into step next to me. We hadn’t really had time to talk since I got back, but she seemed to be adapting well to this new environment. She was former military, so maybe that had something to do with it.

  “Are you talking to the girls today?” she asked, seemingly looking for something to talk about. We repeated the door opening thing at the exit, and I sketched a half-assed salute at the young corporal assigned to watch the exterior door. He was armed and seemed intent on his duty, but the young man gave me a cheeky grin in reply. His name was Thorsen, I thought. Solid kid, and good on the SAW, if I remembered correctly.

  That reminded me. I had a Squad Automatic Weapon squirreled away at Pederson, but Ken and Patty were left to figure the thing out in my absence. Hey, I donate a lot of stuff I find, but not everything. Sue me for not turning in all the machine guns
I stumble across.

  “That’s correct. I already spoke with Kate and I have Michelle, Shelly, to interview next.”

  “They want to stick together, you know? Kate and Shelly have already said as much, and I don’t think you will be able to split them up. The older girls want to look out for the younger, mainly; plus, they really don’t have anyone else.”

  I nodded before responding. “That’s what Kate said. A formidable young lady, that one.”

  I caught Kelly looking over at me, and I stopped there on the concrete sidewalk running in front of the converted building. This place had been the branch office of a bank at one time, which I guess meant it was structurally reinforced. I looked over her shoulder and saw the wide parking lot to the side was now packed with rugged civilian trucks and military vehicles.

  “They had a rough go of it, Mr. McCoy. This place, well, it is much better than I feared. More than we could have hoped for, really, but … they are all alone, and still a little scared.”

  “I’ll see what I can do for them, Dr. Gooden,” I said, and paused, trying to give her the answer she wanted to hear. “You probably know I don’t much care for being around too many folks. That’s no secret. Neither is the fact I have a bit of a temper, but like I told Kate, I expect I’ll hardly be there. Roxy will mother them right, and Patty will have them out on the wall before long, learning to shoot.”

  Doctor Gooden seemed to color for a moment, and then pressed on but changed her direction a bit.

  “Please, call me Kelly. Like I asked you before. And I think I owe you at least a ‘thank you’ for what you did. For all of us, really. So, thank you. Thank you for our lives.”

  “You are welcome,” I replied carefully, curious to see what else she was about to say. I didn’t have long to wait.

  “I heard the story, you know. About how you held off the gang Sandoval’s lieutenants sent after us in Jasper. All the soldiers were talking about it. Even the ones …”

 

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