by Key, Thomas
He quickly said his goodbyes and Ken looked around and his bedroom window caught his attention. He opened it and popped out the screen, pulling it back into the bedroom. He looked down and saw a balcony on the floor below him. He rushed back into his room, finding his old school backpack in the closet and filled it with anything he could find. A flashlight, socks, underwear, his cell phone charger, a box of snack bars and a couple of previously open bottles of water. As he heard the door completely give way downstairs, he climbed through his window. He heard things being trampled downstairs as he tried to lower himself down. He realized that it was just a bit too far. He tried to bring himself back up into his apartment as his bedroom door burst open. One of the crazy street people made a beeline straight for him. He let go, and dropped eight feet onto a patio table, shattering it into pieces. The crazy person upstairs threw itself out the window and flew past Ken on its way down and he heard what he could only imagine as a 'splat' as it hit the street below. Through his open window upstairs, he could hear the rest of the mob tearing his up his apartment. Good thing I didn’t have a home inspection coming up soon. He thought to himself as he listened to the destruction. His gaze fell upon the inside the apartment in which patio he now found himself on. A sliding glass door stood between him and an apartment that seemed empty. He stood with some pain to his back and his ass as he jarred open the apartment door and went inside.
He was roughly jarred awake as the helicopter touched down at the air force base. He saw a large group of soldiers and medics that were surrounding the choppers. A man with a bull horn stood closer than the others. "Attention new arrivals. For your safety, as well as ours, we need you all to get into a single file line starting here in front of me, with your belongings. Once that is complete, you will undergo medical examinations looking for infection or any other health concerns. Once you are all cleared, we have rooms setup for yourself and your group, so you can get some rest. Thank you for your cooperation."
Chapter 19
"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Rodriguez asked. "Yes, I'm sure. The main gates point to the east. I've been here like four times." I could see him shaking his head. "Four whole times, huh? You're right, you're a total expert," he said with a sigh. "We've been on this path for roughly ten minutes. How big is this zoo?" he asked. "It's dark; we may have taken a wrong turn or two," I told him, and he stopped and looked my way. "Hey, I'm not the one with the flashlight. I lost mine." I reminded him, holding my hands out in a placating manner. He brought his light up looking around for the direction signs. He had exclusively been using the light to look for movement, and so we didn't fall off the path. The sign showed an arrow stating that the entrance was on a path to our left. As we proceeded, I heard a rustling noise from behind us and I immediately stopped walking. I brought my pistol up instinctively. I heard Rodriguez footsteps stop as well and saw the flashlight create a shadow of me. "Directly in front of me," I whispered, directing him to where to shine it. The light moved again, towards an enclosure with what seemed to be some kind of cat exhibit. "What did you hear?" he asked quietly, still looking at the entrance to the enclosure. "I'm not sure," I told him honestly. Nothing came of our trying to peer into the exhibit for another few moments. I saw the flashlight begin to move to search around us. We saw nothing from our search. "Alright. Let's keep moving," he said, turning around. I turned and began to follow him. We turned two more corners and found ourselves in a large grass area with a stage. "This was a good place to have lunch and feed the ducks," I told him as we walked through. I pointed towards a path in front of us. It led straight to the Biopark entrance. As we made it past the gift shop, I was bowled over from behind. My knees buckled, and I hit the ground hands first. A heaviness from behind made breathing next to impossible, I felt something digging into the flesh of my back, around where the backpack couldn't cover. It felt like I was being skinned alive. I screamed. I heard whatever it was let out what could only be described as a roar, and it was deafening in the night. I wiggled back and forth, trying to get whatever it was off me. I kicked the creature with the heels of my boots, and tried desperately to extricate myself, but it was of no use.
Three, then four gunshots rang out, and I felt the weight on my back increase as whatever it was fell onto me. I heard Rodriguez speaking to me, "Are you alright?" he asked as I felt the weight begin to shift off to one side, then slide off me. "Damn," he said. I heard him rustling around in his pack. "You're bleeding badly. That damn thing got you pretty good," he told me. I still just laid there. I wasn't about to try to move. He moved my arms around so that he could pull my backpack off, and I felt blood flow down the sides of my body. "What the fuck was that?" I moaned. "That was a lion," he said quietly. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," I said back, moving my head to the side so I could see him. "Nope. I’m absolutely not lyin’. Apparently, the lion had been a tad bit hungry. It was probably stalking us from way back where we heard that noise." It took me a moment to get the pun and I just stared at him quietly. "Come on, that was funny," he said as he cut through the material of what was left of my shirt off my back, and I heard him sigh. "I'm going to need to clean the wounds and then suture them up. It's bad," he told me. "This is going to hurt." I just closed my eyes and clenched my fists. I felt what I could only imagine was an SOS pad being scrapped against the insides of my back. It was excruciating. Then came a burning searing liquid. Acid to go with the scrubbing pad no doubt. As I neared blacking out, I felt the tip of what could only be a suture needle being pushed into my flesh and with that, I was out.
Thirty-ish minutes later...
I awoke with a start, with pain flaring up in my body like fire ants biting all my nerves at once. I screamed again and nearly passed right back out. I heard a noise to my immediate left and my scream quickly trailed off. Danger has a way of dulling pain I've learned. I was still face down on the sidewalk. The trail was hard, and I felt small pebbles under me as I lay. I turned my head side to side. well, as much as I could, looking for the reason behind the noise. I saw the national guardsman come into view. I felt the pain begin to come back when I saw him hold a finger up to his mouth. The pain subsided again, then flowed back into my body. It felt like Satan's personal roller coaster. He came over to me and with effort, rolled me onto my side. Luckily, it was not the side with the fresh stitches. He pushed a canteen of water to my mouth and tried to have me drink. Frankly, I didn't feel like drinking anything, but I was not about to boycott it either. I was being quiet because of some (I'm sure) crazy ass creature that's going to come out of the darkness ala your favorite horror movie. Here, I felt like the character in the movie that trips on something ridiculous and can't get up before being killed in some horrible way. He had an elegant way of shoving the water down my throat and eventually, I just started drinking it. After he deemed it enough, he pulled it away and I slumped back to the ground with a grunt. "There's a mob of those puss bags forming along the fence here. I'm not sure if it's the blood or the screams, but it's attracting them," he whispered from behind me. Or because I was lying face first would that be above me? "I'm going to need to carry your ass to a vehicle," he told me matter-of-factly. "Yup," I said tersely. "I've never heard such excitement," he replied. "That's because it hurts, you dick," I threw back. The shit head was grinning at me. "Just help me up so we can get this crap over with." He rolled me onto my back, with me biting down on my hand to try to relieve the pain. He then did some weird ass ninja move and rolled me right onto his back from the ground. "That went better than I expected." I said with a grunt as my body weight settled around his shoulders. I assumed that this was a fireman's carry. I heard the moans getting louder as we walked towards the front gates. One of the gates on the far-right side was still open. He dashed for it, trying to be as quiet as possible. I'd imagine for him, it was damn near impossible to be all quiet like with me on his back. "Giddy-up," I whispered to myself. "Are you serious?" Rodriguez asked. "Don't judge me dude; this is the first time since I wa
s a kid that I got to go for a ride like this." "Yeah well," he stammered out. "Don't get used to it." I heard the sound of the moans picking up volume. We were halfway through the parking lot. He unceremoniously deposited me onto the hood of some piece of crap car. I realized then that I was drugged. The pain hadn't returned, and I felt rather dandy. "What in the hell did you give me?" I asked him. "Just something for the pain," he responded as he was able to find an unlocked car door and got inside of the vehicle. The longer that I stared at it, the more I realized that it wasn't a car at all. It was a bright yellow crossover type vehicle. I heard him moving stuff around and then I heard the sounds of sparks. The engine revved up, and he rushed out to grab me from my resting spot and opened the rear passenger door, pushing me inside. "What kind of car is this?" I asked him, still in a bit of a daze. It was fairly roomy for such a small car. I couldn't see him from the backseat, but I figured he shrugged. "I think it's a Pontiac Aztek." I couldn't help but laugh. A thump on the rear window as one of the zombies caught up to us didn't stop my moment. "What's so funny?" he asked as he reversed the vehicle and ran over the dirt bag behind us. I nearly hit the roof as we bounced up and down from squishing the thing below us. "I've never seen one of these in person. They're considered one of the ugliest cars ever made," I told him after I landed. "Okay and?" he asked as we pulled away from the group behind us. "Have you ever seen Breaking Bad?" I asked the driver. "No, I haven't." I could only just sigh. "Wow dude, you need to watch it. This kind of car is what the main character in the show drove." "Oh sure," he said dryly. "Let me just turn on my Netflix back at the Motel 6." "Alright, point taken," I told him, and felt us accelerate through the street away from our temporary rest stop, and our undead pose.
Chapter 20
Kenneth was exhausted. After being escorted through the maze of tents and being stripped down, searched, and prodded by at least a dozen needles, he was finally in the waiting area at the end. On the plus side, they all had received hot showers. That had almost felt like heaven. It was his light at the end of the tunnel so to speak. A half of a dozen other Lucaya survivors had made it here ahead of him, and they all appeared to be just as tired as he was if not more so. The waiting area was a large white tent with the big red cross emblem on the exterior. The inside of the tent was sparse. Two dozen folding chairs sat around the parameter. The top of the tent was lined with long fluorescent lights. There was literally nothing else in the room. With his feet propped up on a second chair, Kenneth continued to doze in and out of sleep. He would awaken every time another member of his survivor group would enter the tent and sit down. He'd nod to them, and they'd nod back, clearly relieved to see more of their group. The routine went on for hours. The monotony was broken when Isabel came in. As she entered, she took in the scene and then came to sit beside Ken. "Hey," she whispered to him as she took her seat. He gave his obligatory nod in return. "Were they as gentle with you as they were with me?" she asked with a slight grin. The damn grin was contagious. "I personally am a big fan of doing things the rough way,” he said with a small chuckle. They seemed to agree with each other on that point. "Any news?" she asked, looking around the room again. "Nope. They just told us all to have a seat when we were done. I think the old military adage is still in place though." One of her eyebrows rose in the obvious sign of, 'meaning what?' "The saying is, in the military, you hurry up and wait," he said with his grin still wide on his face. Kenneth and Isabel spoke for another few minutes, then as the last survivor came in, another man followed behind them. He was dressed in a doctor’s lab coat, with black slacks, a black dress shirt and he even wore a blue tie. Who does that in an apocalypse? This garnered the attention from the rest of the group. Kenneth took a moment to count the remaining survivors. 14 people remaining, including himself. When this week started, there had been 24. They'd lost their home, and everything that they had built. All their stock piled supplies, and the deaths of almost a dozen good people. His mind began to spin downwards into despair as he pictured each of the people that they've lost in his mind.
"Hello everyone. My name is Dr. Eric Rogers. I'm the head of the civilian medical department on base. I wanted to take a moment to welcome you all to Canon Air Force Base." He took a moment, as if they were all going to start cheering and applauding. They didn't seem to be the type of audience that he would have liked, which led to a quick frown from him. "You have passed all of our required medical examinations. All of your gear is being sterilized and cleaned and will be returned to you in short order." Kenneth then realized Rachel was not in the room with him. The last time he had seen her was when they landed. She was in the helicopter, being taken off and put onto a hospital gurney with doctors and armed soldiers all around her. They had been going in a different direction from the rest of the group. "Where's Rachel? The wounded woman who came in with us?" Ken asked the doctor. The man seemed to bristle at being interrupted. "She is being treated for her wounds and she is under quarantine. We have no reason to suspect that she is infected, however she does have some kind of bacterial or viral infection from something else. Most likely from the wounds that she sustained before arrival." He said when Kenneth looked as if he was about to stand up and rush him. "Her injuries will need time to heal properly and she needs the right medication. She is under quarantine to ensure her safety, as well as ours. With the amount of disease in the city streets and with close contact with the infected, we just want to play it safe," he spoke to the group calmly, and adjusted his glasses. "Am I to assume that you are the leader of the group?" The doctor asked, looking back at Ken. "No, George is..." his voice trailed off as he looked around the room and realized that George had not made it. It tore at his soul that the kind, wonderful man that had held them together for what seemed liked years had died in their vain attempt to hold onto their home. "I guess I am," he said to the doctor. The man nodded and readjusted his spectacles. "You all will be assigned living quarters when you leave this tent. You are all free to go to any of the locations marked 'civilian' in the map that you will get on the way out. Please keep in mind that this is a military base. Do not attempt to enter a restricted area, or you will be detained. For security reasons, all your weapons will be held in our armory. In the event of a security breach, you will be allowed to retrieve your weapons for base defense."
Kenneth raised his hand. Dr. Rogers looked at him thoughtfully. "What about the crashed helicopter? When can we go back and look for survivors?" Ken asked the man. The doctor shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry but I only handle the medical side of things. I was informed however that a rescue team is already being re-equipped and will be on their way back to search within the next few hours." "Can we leave the base?" Ken asked. "You are all cleared medically. For the safety of the civilians on base, only the military teams are allowed out as of right now. They are trained and can better protect themselves. We have a variety of jobs that our civilians can assist with. There is also an option to join the military if anyone is interested," the doctor said, trying to be reassuring. Ken asked, with more than a little bit of contempt. "So, we're prisoners?" The doctor, once again, adjusted his damn glasses. Seriously, if they don't fit right, then he should find ones that do. "No, not at all. We have everything that you need here and can travel to many places in the base. There is a local bar, a school, and three diners. We also have a variety of other activities. From kites to a chess club, and training classes for those interested in learning to help with large scale projects." The doctor seemed satisfied with his answer as he looked about the room. "I'm sorry doctor, basically, you're saying that we've lost our liberty to leave this base, and we should instead, learn to fly a fucking kite?" Ken asked. Dr. Rogers shrugged. "It's what you make of it. If you'd like to go outside of the base, see one of our recruiters and they can get you trained for a variety of military positions."
He clapped his hands together once. "In the meantime, we've setup our own commerce on base. You each will be issued credits as a welcome gift. For completing work and
jobs around the base, you can earn more credits towards drinks, food, or other items from our base merchants. Your credits are loaded by computer devices into these electronic wristbands." He showed them by pulling up his sleeve to reveal his own. "We have no crime on base other than a rare argument or two. Keep these with you at all times, as these will keep your credits, as well as your identification information. Our Red Horse crew have also renovated one of our hangers to create small apartment type living spaces for our civilian population. They aren’t fancy and have fairly thin walls, but it’s home. Now, please exit through the north exit and follow our welcome home team. They will get you situated with places to stay, as well as take care of any other needs you may have."
The flaps of the tent from the north side opened up and the morning light began to shine through the opening. The group stood and began to walk into the morning air. The doctor watched everyone leave and as he was leaving, his wrist band beeped. He looked down and read the text as it scrolled by. "Report to Base Commander for debriefing." He sighed inwardly and made his way towards the base administration building. As he arrived he was told to wait. Taking a chair, he pulled out a small notepad and began to take notes. Whatever popped into his head would be written down whenever he could. The doctor was called, and he stood, stretching. He entered the room of the base commander. Colonel Nathan Johnson stood, his back to the door and a glass containing three fingers of whisky was in his hand. The doctor entered, closing the door behind him. “Talk to me doctor. Tell me about the new batch,” He said, as he continued to stare out a window on the opposite side of the office. The window had one of the best views of the base for obvious reasons. “Well Colonel, they should all adjust well. I don’t foresee any concerns either medically or otherwise.” Eric said matter-of-factly. Johnson then turned to the doc. “What about the one in quarantine?” He asked, staring back at him. The doctor swallowed hard and then spoke. “I don’t believe she is any cause for concern either. We have her on several antibiotics and she should recover just fine.” “Good, good.” The Colonel said, taking a seat. “Keep me posted on the new group of survivors, especially the girl. At the first sign of the plague she is to be terminated immediately. We cannot let the compound fall from the inside out.” The doctor nodded and stood. He left without another word, closing the commander's office door behind him quietly.
