by JT Sawyer
“Let the munching begin,” she said with a demonic laugh.
The building and parking lot echoed with gunfire as zombies were dispatched by Logan’s men near the front. Nikki’s plan was to work her way over to one of the helos in the woods and gain access. “Just one last joyous act to perform before the curtain falls,” she said, pulling a grenade off her vest.
She peered around the door into the hallway and saw Travis, who was closest, while Logan and Talia were shooting at the encroaching zombies in the lobby. As Travis paused to change out magazines, Nikki stepped forward, tossing the grenade and then bolting in the opposite direction for the emergency exit.
The grenade clanked on the tiled floor, rolling up against the back of Travis’s boot. He looked behind him and noticed the exit door closing and then glanced down with wild eyes, instinctively punting the grenade forward into the mass of undead.
“Fire in the hole!” he said, grabbing Talia and Logan by the backs of their vests and yanking them into the room beside him as the device exploded.
“What the fuck, Travis. You got your head on straight?” yelled Talia.
“It came from behind me. That person we were looking for must have tossed it.”
“Sometimes I can’t tell if you thrive on impulsiveness or are just plain reckless,” said Logan.
Travis stood up and ran to the door opening. A tangle of desiccated limbs and heads lined the hallway and green entrails were sprayed across the crumpled ceiling. Thick smoke was rolling through the corridor and he saw a large zombie, with a face that resembled a melted candle, moving towards him. Travis fired several rounds into the staggering figure’s head while more disfigured creatures made their way towards him, snapping their mangled jaws. He kept firing, dispatching several more mutilated zombies, including a legless creature clutching at his boots.
“Go after that Pallas agent—we got this,” said Logan as he and Talia stepped into the crumpled doorframe and began firing at the undead. Behind the creatures, flames were licking up to the second-floor rafters.
Logan radioed to his personnel below to pull out before the fire overtook the building while Travis sprinted down the hallway to the rear, kicking open the exit door and steadying his rifle.
Chapter 31
As he exited the burning building, running through a low wall of black smoke, Travis came upon the back parking lot. In the distance, he could see a dark-haired woman running past a steel shed, heading towards a cluster of a few dozen delivery trucks and rows of metal storage boxes. He stopped and fired the last three rounds from his AK, hearing the bullets clank and spark off the metal boxes. She abruptly turned towards him, her face briefly showing in the dim light, and exchanged fire before ducking into the maze of storage compartments.
“Nikki,” he said with a low growl while slinging his spent rifle over his shoulder. He pulled out his Glock and began trotting along the pavement, weaving in between abandoned cars. The sun had already set and the moon was illuminating the blacktop as he bounded along the perimeter, keeping an eye out for zombies as well as for his deadly prey. The building had quickly become engulfed in flames and the odor of burning wood and metal was filling the night air. As he wove between burnt-out vehicles, he could still hear weapons being discharged in the distance at the opposite end of the building.
Travis ducked behind a large metal container with his pistol extended in both hands as he peered over the tritium night sights. He scanned the dark recesses ahead, straining to detect any movement. He knew there was nowhere else for her to run that would provide cover. The grassy field to his right was blocked with a tall razor-wire fence and the rest of the parking lot was empty. He knew Nikki was waiting, just as he was, and that their predatorial match had commenced.
He moved ahead, secreting his body against the cold metal walls with his vision focused just beyond the front of his weapon. Instinctively, he knew that sights would play no role in close quarters and that he would be point-shooting in the tight space. It was a skill he had honed through countless assaults but one he knew his quarry was equally as talented at.
A single streak of sweat rolled down his right cheek as he crept along the dark confines between the storage compartments. Only the occasional sliver of moonlight coupled with the undulating flicker from the fire pierced through, allowing him to discern the way.
As he quickly moved beyond a corner, he caught a slight movement two rows ahead—a brief trace of a figure darting to the left. Too smooth to be an RAM, he thought. He increased his pace, progressing forward. His breathing had increased and his heart raced as he slid between a row of red-and-yellow compartments, peering around the edge. He saw the spark of the incoming round on the metal above his head first and then heard the crack of gunfire from Nikki’s pistol as he ducked back into the shadows and dropped onto one knee. He quickly thrust himself forward, taking two shots before retreating. Then he ran a row back and peeled to his right, sprinting forward past three rows of compartments. He stalked along the dark passageway with his Glock extending from his hands like another appendage.
Travis reached the end of the row and paused, straining for any signs of his prey. While he waited, an explosion from the building rocked the parking lot, sending a stream of blue-orange flame skyward. As he was preparing to move forward, a faint shadow to his right was revealed in the backlight of the blaze. He dropped low and spun, delivering two shots into the upper chest of Nikki, who recoiled into the wall. Travis fired three more rounds into her neckline above her body armor and one into her shoulder. Her pistol landed on the blacktop as she slammed into a compartment, slumping to the ground.
He rushed up, kicking her weapon aside and keeping his pistol fixed on her. She was moaning in pain and clutching her chest, gasping for air. Travis stood a few feet away, studying her face while keeping an eye on her hands.
He examined her wounds and then looked into her eyes. She bore a grainy scar on her cheek which was slightly cloaked by her dangling black hair. Staring at her made him shudder momentarily as he choked back the horrific images of what he had once endured at her hands and the thought of the countless others she had maimed.
She was panting for air as her chest crumpled. Nikki looked up at him with her blue eyes. “You’re not gonna get me a medic, sugar?” she said, trying to grin but forcing out only a painful sneer instead. Blood was leaking out of her many wounds and the color in her face was draining away.
“It’s over,” he said, easing up on his grip and lowering his pistol.
“And here, all this time, I thought it’d be me spillin’ your blood,” she said as a bout of coughing shook her body. She struggled to sit up but only managed to scrunch her knees forward. “People like you and I—we’re not so different, are we? In another reality, you might have been on my team.”
“We are nothing alike, Nikki. You’re a heartless butcher.”
“That’s where you’re wrong—we are both tigers. But it’s not killing that’s the hard part, is it, Travis? It’s living. Living a life off the battlefield where no one understands who we really are.” She stuttered out the words as a rivulet of blood ran from the corner of her mouth. “Developing our skills to be the best was never good enough, so we aligned ourselves with a cause to infuse us with meaning. Your cause was always righting the wrongs of the world.”
His eyes narrowed. “And what was your cause?” he said as the glow from the flames danced on the metal walls of the compartment beside him.
Her breathing became shallow and a forlorn look appeared in her eyes. “Righting the wrongs of my own world,” she said, struggling to summon her energy.
Travis raised his pistol. “Killing you will hardly repay all those you tormented but it may allow them to finally rest easier—and that’s one debt I’m more than happy to make you pay,” he said, aiming at her head and pulling the trigger.
As he stood over her lifeless figure, Logan and Talia came around the side of the storage unit with their rifles raised. Tra
vis turned abruptly, then lowered his pistol upon seeing their faces.
Logan strode up to Nikki’s slumped body and squatted down in front of her. “Not even hell has a place for this bitch.”
“We should go,” said Talia, who was keeping her weapon fixed on the rear parking lot. “Most of those things are trapped inside the building but we can’t be sure.”
Travis wiped his shirt sleeve across his sweaty face. “Nothing of worth here anyway.”
Chapter 32
Upon completion of the mission at Pallas’s headquarters, Logan’s teams had regrouped outside of Denver at a rural airstrip. The next morning, once the critical data they had retrieved was assembled, the majority of the units were sent back to Montrose and the rest dispersed in the region, carrying out secondary sweeps of the surrounding area. Logan had ordered a Blackhawk to accompany him and Travis to the Boulder area to resume search efforts on another front.
An hour later, Dane set the helo down in a tiny meadow at the base of a spruce-covered hill. “This sure is some pretty country. I always did like the mountains here better than any others,” Logan said to Travis as they grabbed their packs from the helicopter. They began walking the snow-encrusted footpath through the forest, fighting their way through tangles of Douglas fir branches and thorny shrubs. “My staff back in Montrose said satellite imagery indicated a small cluster of habitation sites near the river with a few dozen people milling around—you think that’s the place?”
“It has to be. I used to take Todd up there fishing and we always jokingly said that this was where we’d come if Martians ever invaded. It’s pretty remote, with the nearest town being about thirty miles away and only one rugged jeep trail going into the valley.”
“Travis, what if—” Logan paused. “What if he…”
“Don’t even think it—he’s alive, Logan. He has to be. He’s a tough kid. My son wasn’t raised on skim milk.”
“I can only imagine he’s got viper blood in his veins, given his pedigree. Just not sure why you were so determined to walk in when we could fly.”
“Most of the guys down there who owned cabins are former combat vets, and they would have most likely rigged the inbound road with IEDs. They survived this long because they probably set up one hell of a defensible perimeter. I doubt we’d even get within shouting distance, let alone drop the helo into a group of warriors already distrustful of the government. I’m not going to risk my son or any of us getting into a firefight when we’re this close to the end.”
“You two going to blabber the whole way there or are we going to cover some miles,” said Talia, who was walking behind the two men followed by Katy, Nora, Rachel, Dane, Pete, and a six-man team. After an hour of clearing the dense treeline, Travis came to a ridge that overlooked a coniferous valley below. Two miles in the distance, he could see columns of woodsmoke rising from several stone chimneys and a small cluster of rustic buildings along a riverbank. There were a handful of people moving around cutting wood, fishing, and tending to horses.
His heart raced and he felt like leaping over the edge to close the distance between his feet and the homesteads below. He clutched his hands onto his vest pockets and felt the warm rays of the sun glide across his taut face. “Even his griefs are a joy, long after, to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured,” he whispered to himself.
“What’s that you said?” Katy responded.
“Just something from The Odyssey that I used to recite before a mission—never sure if I’d be coming home alive or not.” He could feel her gaze upon him. “I’m OK,” he said, shrugging the pack on his shoulders and looking into her green eyes.
“I’d certainly understand if you were tense or fearful. Nothing wrong with that.”
Travis didn’t reply but turned and glanced at the valley below with raptor eyes, searching for signs of a small boy.
“We should keep pushing on—it’ll be nightfall in a few hours in this reduced winter light,” said Logan, walking up alongside them.
“Copy that,” Travis said. “Any intel from your people on sentries posted at this end of the valley?”
“Nothing showed up, but you know how that goes.”
“My friend, whose cabin we used to stay in down there, always commented on what a defensible region this was,” said Travis. “There’s only one main route in and plenty of hiding spots for setting up ambushes for intruders. I figured this passage from the rear, being as rugged as it is, would be the best approach to avoid a shootout or tripping any IEDs.”
They began their descent along the rock scree lining the eastern slope, which was devoid of snow. The route was arduous, requiring them to spend the first hour walking at a slow pace until they cleared the debris and came upon a faint deer trail. They followed this for another two hours until they crested a low ridge of fir trees. Travis could smell burnt oak from a chimney wafting through the treetops as they came into sight of a cluster of six cabins strewn about the clearing below. These were weathered structures that had once been a part of an old logging camp built in the 1950s and later sold to private individuals. Travis remembered the raucous times he and his deer-hunting friends had shared here in recent years and the wealth of fish and wild game in the region.
He squatted down and listened for movement. A few minutes later he heard the sound of horse hooves coming down the dirt road that led into the valley. A man with a silver beard and ponytail climbed down and walked up to the porch of the cabin nearest him and sat alongside a woman who looked to be in her late forties.
Travis motioned to the others to stay put while he went down below. It would be less threatening for one man to enter a well-fortified area than an entire armed group, and he didn’t want anyone getting edgy. He took off his pack and slung his AK in front of him, then slowly walked down the narrow animal trail, stepping on the soft snow which was melting in the afternoon sun. He paused one more time to listen and then emerged from beyond a tall pile of stacked firewood, coming out into the open fifty yards from the cabin. Travis stood with his hands up and shouted to the couple on the porch. “Hello there, can you help me? I’m looking for someone.”
The silver-haired man immediately sprang to his feet and grabbed a scoped .308 rifle next to him. The petite woman in jeans stood up just as abruptly, producing a 1911 pistol and pointing it at him as the man descended the porch steps with his weapon fixed on Travis.
“How did you get in here?”
“I came up along the eastern saddle. I’m not here looking for trouble. Only my boy.”
The man warily walked towards him while shouting over his shoulder for the others. Several armed men rushed out from nearby cabins, making their way over to Travis.
“Just stand still—no jerky movements, mister,” said the older man.
As Travis looked around for any familiar faces, a brown-and-white dog emerged from an open door near the cabin before him. The animal bounded down the steps, stopping alongside the silver-haired man. The dog raised his head and pricked up his ears. As soon as it saw Travis, it lowered its ears and wagged its tail, then loped over to him. When Travis saw the dog, tears formed in his eyes.
“What a fine animal that is,” Travis said, having difficulty swallowing. He knelt down on one knee and began rubbing his hands along the animal’s neck. “Ah, Butch, my trusty friend.”
“You know this dog?” said the older man, lowering his rifle.
Travis glided his hands over the animal’s ears and head as he felt his own breathing quicken and his face relax. “That I do. He’s one of a kind, just like my son.”
“That dog belongs to one of the boys here under our care,” the man said, his voice softening. “It was given to him by his dad who we fear died far from here. His mom succumbed to the virus during the second month, before he and his pup made it here with the help of some of our friends.”
As Travis looked up at the man, squinting into the sun, a diminutive figure appeared on the porch beyond him. He stood and noticed
a young boy in tan pants and a wool sweater gazing at him. Travis saw the boy dipping his head, studying his face and scraggly beard. Then the boy moved down the steps with an unsteady walk, his lips quivering, looking at the dog and back into Travis’s sun-baked face.
The boy’s lips parted and a broad smile formed as his walk turned into a run. “Daddy—Daddy, is it you?”
“Todd—it’s me son, yes, it’s me.” Tears rushed up to both father and child’s eyes as they flung themselves into each other’s embrace. “Oh, my boy, my sweet boy.” They wept and held each other tight while the dog nudged his way in between their legs.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the camp as the other people gathered around, staring at the scene and glancing over the tattered appearance of the man before them. Travis pulled himself back from his son and ran his rough hands through Todd’s hair. “Oh, my son, I’m home at last,” he said, drawing the trembling boy back into his arms. Every fiber in Travis’s body quivered as he held his son tight while tears flowed down his face.
After a few minutes, Travis sat back, sitting cross-legged and unslinging his rifle while Todd sat on his lap, still weeping. Travis looked up at the silver-haired man. “Thank you for taking care of him. I am forever indebted to you, sir, and all of your people here.”
“So you’re Travis? Thank God you two have found one another again. He never stopped talking about you. All these months he kept saying you’d find him. He never gave up hope.”
As they spoke, the rest of Travis’s group descended from the ridgeline, walking into the clearing with their weapons strung on their side. “It’s OK—these are my friends and they have come a long, long way to be here with me and make this moment come true.”
Chapter 33
That evening Travis spoke with the other community members concerning him, Katy, and the rest of his band staying there in the valley. When he was done, he walked with Todd, holding his hand, over to the group which was gathered around a small campfire in the center of the cluster of lodges. Logan, Talia, and the rest of their team were in a nearby cabin talking about world events with the other residents, with Logan continually interjecting recruiting inducements to the younger members.
