The Long Road Ahead: A Zombie Tale

by Key, Thomas

  "We need to find a damn car," I told him once both of us were awake from our series of naps. After relieving ourselves and taking care of other needs, we met in the lobby and peered out a large rectangular window. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. When we came into town, there was a strip mall that had some cars in the lot." I slowly nodded, then took a moment to stretch. My back was feeling better, thank goodness, but a burning sensation was still present. Rodriguez handed me a full pill bottle. "Two of these a day until they're gone," he said as he put his pack back on. I put the bottle in my pocket and followed him to the front door. The coast was clear and we walked back into the darkness. The night was extremely quiet, eerily so. Walking along the left side of the road leading to the animal hospital we came upon the strip mall. I had glanced at it on our way to the clinic, but I hadn’t really taken much stock in what was there now though, I stopped and scanned the area. In the shopping center was what was once a Subway. A crippling pain tore through my gut as I realized just how hungry I was. Rodriguez came and stood by me, also looking at the restaurant. "How good does a footlong meatball sub sound right now?" I asked him. "That’s not my usual sandwich but I’d eat twelve of them right about now," he said, but his eyes were looking in the direction of the interstate. When I finally focused on him again, he put a finger to his mouth in the universal ‘shush’ motion. I heard what I could only describe as a rumbling. It sounded like a very large truck was passing on the interstate. I adjusted my view to see if I could see anything. Night had fallen once again and the moon took that opportune time to shed light down from behind some clouds. See, most of New Mexico is a desert and the best time to move is at night, not during the day. It’s just way too damn hot. What I saw before me though caused my jaw to drop. What seemed like a never-ending stream of zombies were making their way along the road from the direction that we had come from. "I guess that's our posse," I told Rodriguez. He came and stood next to me. "Holy shit," he whispered as we both watched. The infected were shoulder to shoulder, literally pushing the dead cars around with their sheer numbers. Loud screeching noises were coming from the metal on metal contact. As the horde continued along our route, they started to spill out and down the exit right to the intersection that we were standing in. "Oh shit," I said and looked around for a place to hide. The Subway was a no-go, as it would smell absolutely horrid. Beside it sat a souvenir store advertising everything New Mexico. I pointed to the door of the shop, "Shall we?" I asked as I started moving towards the door. I pushed on it and yet again, it was unlocked. Who the hell does not lock their doors? I thought to myself as I entered. A small bell above the door sounded and I froze. Rodriguez stood directly behind me, also listening intently. No sound came and the incoming infected were almost within sight of the door. I stepped in.

  As we went to close the door behind us, my right foot slipped. My left leg shot out at a horrible angle to try to catch myself as I went to the ground. I barely avoided doing the splits. As a man, I know that there is almost no worse punishment to our body than an accidental split injury. Time seemed to slow as I saw unimaginable pain coming my way. I was able to stop that by using my hands to catch the rest of me and hold myself still. I got both feet under me and began to try to stand. Slipping again, this time, I tried to grab several signs and decorations right next to me, causing them to all fall, with glass shattering and metal clattering to the floor. This time, I just landed on my back and stayed there. When I was able to move my head, I saw Rodriguez staring at me from above. "Are you alright?" he asked curiously. "Yeah. I wanted to see if I could make as much noise as possible in the shortest amount of time," I told him as I slowly stood back up. "Maybe stick to carpet?" he said. "Yeah, but this was way more fun," I said as I rubbed the small of my back. He peered outside and call it God or luck, but my ruckus went unnoticed somehow by the throng of undead walking along outside. My stomach grumbled again and I immediately pulled out a granola bar. I had, naturally, completely forgotten that I had a couple of them packed for just this kind of occasion. He looked at me in disbelief as I unwrapped it, the foil packet making even more noise as I took a huge bite. I saw him staring and stopped chewing. My mouth was fairly full, and I asked him, "What?” It probably didn't even remotely sound like that, but he got the gist. He just shook his head. If we were going to clear out this place, I was not going to take another step until I downed this bar. As I finished off my oh so delicious meal, Rodriguez had already checked out the rest of the store. Nothing of note besides some bags of snacks. Specifically, biscochitos, which are Mexican style cookies. They’re honestly fantastic. On another note, if anyone reads this and anyone with you is of Mexican heritage or New Mexican, treasure that person. If it happens to be you in the group, God bless you and please, pass down your family traditions. I was not born in New Mexico, but they call it land of enchantment for a reason. The food is amazing, or was amazing I supposed. There was nothing better than sitting down for breakfast with huevos rancheros with Christmas. Christmas for those not in the know, refers to a mix of red and green New Mexican chili. It was pure bliss. All of this was going through my head as I sat and ate my now even more unappetizing granola bar.

  "They're going to follow that path all the way to the ocean, I bet," I said after I finished. "The problem is that Cannon AFB is directly in the path of that swarm now. We've got to find a way to warn them." "Right now, we need to wait until they pass, and then see if we can get ahead of them somehow." I sat my ass back on the floor. He had sat down on the floor beside me to do the same, opening his own snack bags. After a few minutes, I had to break the silence. "What is Cannon AFB like?" I asked him. He finished chewing his cookie and sat back. "It's not the Four Seasons Hotel and Resort, that's for sure. It's a military base. High walls, guard posts, barbed wire. We've setup a few restaurants, activity centers and even a bar though," he said as he inserted another cookie. "A bar. Really?" I asked, a bit surprised. He finished chewing and responded, "Yeah. We send scavenging teams out and they bring back as much as they can carry. From liquor to medicine to clothing. You earn credits for working, which you spend for food, clothes or beer. Uncle Sam gathers more stuff to sell for credits to pay more workers. It's a good system." I nodded. It sure sounded like they had everything squared away. "Plus, we've got technology on our side. We have a few AC130H Spectres, some black hawks from around NM and even some Reaper UAVs. The 27th Special Operations Wing was stationed there. They're the Air Force Special Forces. Badass guys, all of them," he said before stuffing his face again. A thought popped into my head. "Why didn't they use all of that fire power during the panic?" He sighed. "Idiot politicians didn't want us firing on our own soil until it was far too late. We lost contact with POTUS and the rest of the higher ups not long after the panic. We have sporadic communications with a couple other military bases strung out around the United States and abroad. Right now, though, everyone is just trying to rescue as many as we can and rebuild our defenses. After that, the plan is to consolidate our forces eventually." I nodded slowly and realized that I was tired as hell. He started talking about some kind of grand strategy or something and I straight up passed out again. My dreams were filled with the noises of the infected outside, and with the hope of a better way to live, just a few days travel.

  Chapter 23: Kenneth

  Kenneth awoke with a start, coming out of yet another nightmare. It was his second day of being a guest at Cannon AFB. He checked his watch and saw 0730. They rose the flag at 0800 every week day at the base, and call him overly patriotic, but seeing it rise made hope and pride swell inside of him every single time. It was turning into a daily ritual, to quickly get dressed and be outside to see Old Glory rise. As he dressed, he thought back to Shepard, wondering where he was. The brass on base refused to give him any information about the rescue mission. They all had simply answered, 'nothing new to report.' A few of the survivors from his group had signed on to train and become soldiers. A majority, however, chose to get regular jobs. They were c
leaning, cooking, fixing stuff or even working in construction. Considering the size of this base, there was no shortage of work to be done. Kenneth was on the fixing side of things. Over his years of gaming, he had picked up a few tricks about electronics repair. It's far cheaper to fix your own PC if it breaks, than to get it repaired or buy a new one. It was an alright job, he supposed. He constantly got lost in his own thoughts and every now and then, someone would prod him to get back to work. His mind constantly went to his fellow survivors, and those ones that were still missing. Since most of the buildings were still in use for their original functions, many of the repair crews were set up in tents outside of the main structures. Today, as he went to his work station and saw another box of mixed computer and electrical equipment, he sighed. It was the same boring crap. He had been the first one into work which he guessed would become yet another new routine. As he sat down, he heard a sound that was immediately familiar. The pop pop pop of small arms fire instantly drew his attention. The base alarm had not been raised, so he took off in the direction of the gunfire. As he arrived to that corner of the base, he saw several of the soldiers firing shots into a small group of infected at the fence line. Kenneth arrived as the last two walkers were taken down. The soldier closest to him waved. "We're good here. Just a few stragglers," he said, nonchalantly. "Does this happen a lot?" asked Ken. "It comes and goes. We went a whole week a while back without a single one." The soldier shrugged, "It's fairly random." Kenneth nodded and turned to head to his work station, but before he did, he went back to the guard. "How is it being in the army?" The soldier was reloading his magazine. "It's boring sometimes," he said honestly. "I'd rather do this than do anything else though. The scavenging crews get the most action, but obviously, it’s much more dangerous. It's an all-volunteer group though, if you're interested. The cool thing about it is, if you find little trinkets, you get to keep them. Obviously, not pain meds or canned food, but little things." Kenneth nodded. "Thanks," he said as he walked back to his workspace.

  Kenneth awoke the following morning at 0500. "Shit," he whispered to himself as he pulled himself from bed. It had been a rough night of tossing and turning and over-thinking. He sat on the edge of his cot, slid his fingers through his hair and sighed. Some people could be fine in complete safety and be content with it, but considering that his best friend was still out there, it ate away at him. The infected would not just go away either. They would need to be exterminated if humanity was ever to make a return. As he stood and began to dress, he looked in the mirror of his cubicle-sized room. Who he saw in the mirror was a completely different person, a stranger. He had lost weight; maybe as much as 40lbs. Small scars were visible on his arms and chest. All of the adventures since Z day had done a number on him, that was for sure, but he felt stronger, and surer of himself. It’s ironic how the end of the world could be the best thing for him physically. No more doctors’ visits telling him to watch his diet. Now it was literally life and death. That would have been a heck of a health trend back in the day. Lose weight or die. He thought to himself as he left his small room.

  He walked to morning mess, a large cafeteria inside of one of the base buildings. As in most bases, this one was not designed for aesthetics, only utility and efficiency. People were arriving for breakfast in ones and twos and the murmuring of discussion was slowly starting to increase in volume. As he got in line with a tray, he was bumped from behind. He didn't bother to look. It happened fairly often, people not paying attention. Another bump nearly pushed him over. He turned, furious and ready to swing at the idiot behind him. As he turned around, every ounce of anger fell from him in a heartbeat. Standing with a shit eating grin behind him was Rachel.

  Chapter 24

  "Holy Shit!" Ken said as he embraced the woman. He squeezed so hard, he felt her tapping urgently on his shoulder. "Air," was all he could hear her wheeze out as he let her go. "Sorry about that," he said as she caught her breath. She grinned again as she took some mighty deep breaths. The annoyed faces behind her made him realize that the line had moved ahead quite a way. He nodded towards the line and they both moved up to where the glorious food was. By glorious though, he meant warm. Breakfast today was eggs, cubed potatoes, and a tortilla, with a packet of hot sauce if you requested it. It was not a Mcgriddle by any stretch of the imagination, but it sure beat eating out of a can for sure. They got their food and headed for the tables. The questions flooding Ken's mind got too much for him to handle. "Okay, spill it. What the hell happened?"

  She took a few bites and took a deep breath. "Where do you want me to start?" she asked. He pondered the question for a moment. "From the time that they admitted you probably." She nodded. "I only remember bits and pieces after we got back to Lucaya. I was pretty out of it. When I finally felt good enough that I was taken off of the really good meds, I had no idea where I was. I woke up and a nurse came to check on me. She checked my vitals, and then got the doctor." She took a bite of the tortilla. "God, I've missed homemade tortillas." She chuckled as she swallowed. "He came in and told me that I had had some kind of infection that nearly killed me. They were able to get it under control with some more powerful antibiotics and a ton of fluids. For the records, catheters suck," she told him. Ken gave her a questioning look, to which she just waved it away, "don't ask, you don’t want to know." He shrugged as he stuffed his own face. "Once I felt better, they had me walk around the hospital and filled me in on the rules and all of that. I'm going to be joining the scavengers today actually." He stopped eating and looked at her. "Are you serious?" he asked with a mouthful of egg. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" "Because you nearly died. Don't you think that was a close enough call?" "We've all almost died about a dozen times. I'm not going to sit around here and do nothing. Shepherd is still out there and we need all the supplies we can get if we're going to go find him," she said. Ken was dumbfounded. "The Army is letting us go find him?" She shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "No, not exactly, but I have a plan."

  Kenneth waved in a 'please continue' motion. "Scavenging teams do their own thing, or so I'm told. They get dropped in by helicopter, with set return times. If they don't make it back to extraction by the return time, they fly to a secondary rendezvous location and if they still don't show, they're presumed lost." Ken wasn't tracking. "So, we just stay there and try to find him?" "We're Burquenos; we know the city better than anyone else here," she said. He shrugged. "I was a gamer remember. I didn't do much exploring." "Okay fine, so me more than you, but still. There is a flight out this morning, and then the next one is in three days. We can join and get trained before the next flight out." “Training takes two days?” “Yeah, I mean if you haven’t figured out the basics of survival by now you wouldn’t be alive. They just teach shooting and clearing techniques. The scavengers aren't the same as their trained enlisted soldiers. The soldiers they keep to help protect the base. The scavengers are more of a quasi-military group. It’s still led by them but not the same.” As the duo finished up their breakfast, Kenneth finally spoke up. "Alright fine, I'm sold. We just have to be careful. I've had enough of seeing my friends die. Let's go introduce ourselves."

  Chapter 25

  Rachel and Ken approached the recruitment building. After holding the door open for Rachel, Ken followed her in. Directly inside was a reception desk. Behind it was a lobby with four cubicles set up like offices. Each one had a recruiter sitting inside. The duo approached the reception desk and signed in, and then both took seats beside each other. The receptionist, a private, if Ken's guess at the insignia was correct, stood and pulled out two tan folders from one of several filing cabinets behind him. He then walked promptly to one of the makeshift offices. Not two minutes later, a man in army fatigues approached the duo. They both stood and the man shook Ken's and then Rachel's hand. "Follow me if you would." He led the way to his cubicle. As they sat, Ken glanced around the walls of the sort-of office and saw hanging photos of the recruiter's friends and family. The man, Sergeant Weed, noticed him
looking. "I was lucky enough to be able to grab some of that stuff on my way here." Ken nodded, his eyes leveling on the sergeant’s name tag. The soldier was quick, “Yes, it’s my real name and no, I don’t have any,” he said with a smile. "I'm sorry if this is too blunt, but did any of them make it out?" Rachel asked, pointing at his family in the photos. The recruiter shook his head. "We're receiving survivors every couple of days, and they get registered, as I'm sure that you know. The list is constantly screened to look for anyone's friends or family that make it in. It's the best we've got right now. We always try to hope for the best though," he said with a sigh. Sgt. Weed took two folders out of his desk and opened them. "Let's see what the mighty file gods say about you two." He flipped a couple of papers in each folder and then read a few of the notes aloud. "Rachel, you're recently discharged from the medical wing due to illness sustained during a Z encounter. You haven't yet registered with a work group. No listed family on base, however, friends on file include Ken here." He moved to the next folder. "Ken, requested electronics repair for a work group, no family listed on base, and same with the friends." He closed both folders. "Both healthy, able bodied and capable." Ken glanced at Rachel who had a determined look on her face. The recruiter looked over both of them for a moment and then spoke again. "So, why is it that you two would like to join our scavenging teams?" he asked. Rachel spoke up first, "We've survived for the past few weeks scavenging for all of our food, water and materials. We know what to look for, how to retrieve it, and how to protect ourselves." Sgt. Weed nodded. Ken chipped in, "The more survivors that we find, the less supplies there are to go around. If we're going to try to rebuild or even maintain, we need everything that we can get our hands on." The soldier nodded again. "So, for the good of the base then?" he asked. They both nodded. The man stared at them both for another minute before standing up quickly. "That's good enough for me," he said with a smile, shaking both of their hands. "We need good people out there, and you both seem like the type that we need." He took two sheets of paper from his desk, and signed each of them before handing them to the two. "These are your orders. You both are to report to our training tent at 0800 tomorrow. Head to the Exchange and show them these papers. They'll get you both some clothes and equipment." Rachel and Ken both thanked him. "Don't thank me yet. You both will be risking your lives for cans of corn. But if you find anyone out there with the last name Weed, let me know. Drinks will be on me," he said with a grin.