Z Plan (Book 3): Homecoming

by Lerma, Mikhail

  “I don’t think anyone really ever thought of zombies seriously,” added Curtis.

  “The guys I was deployed with all joked about having a zombie plan,” Cale said solemnly as he dragged his hand across one of the metal gun racks.

  The metal was cold.

  “Zach and Cacy called it their Z-Plan,” he explained.

  “Z-Plan?” Curtis laughed. “Has a nice ring to it.”

  “Right,” whispered Cale.

  “Keep heading west,” Cacy’s voice echoed through his head.

  He thought about the last time he saw Cacy outside the camp. But his flashback was interrupted by a low pitched hum that grew louder. The lights in the other room flickered on. Old air was being pushed out of the ventilation by the new air behind it.

  “Looks like Ballard and Tomes got the generator going,” observed Curtis.

  He turned off the lantern he was carrying. Cale did the same with his flashlight.

  “Tomes! Ballard!” shouted Curtis. “Get in here!”

  Shortly after both men stood in the doorway of the armory.

  “Holy…” Tomes trailed off.

  “It’s like Christmas,” an excited Ballard stated.

  “Don’t fuck around,” warned Curtis. “We still need to finish clearing this place.”

  “Roger,” replied both men as they quickly checked the nearest racks.

  Ballard found the 9mm rounds he needed for his newly acquired handgun and Tomes loaded a fifteen-round magazine into an AR-15.

  “Ballard, go topside and bring everyone down,” ordered Curtis. “Tomes and I will finish the sweep of that last room. Cale I want you to oversee body removal. Just have everyone pile them in the wood line somewhere away from the entrance.”

  “Roger,” answered Cale.

  “Good,” said Curtis. “Now let’s get this place locked up for the night.”

  Chapter 5

  THE PREPPER’S DIARY

  The small squad made short work of cleaning up the bunker. SSG Curtis was troubled that they still hadn’t found the tenth member of the group. It was unsure if they’d be coming back or if they’d also fallen to the infection. They assumed the latter given the state the bunker had been left in.

  “How long can we keep that generator going?” asked Curtis as he ate his chili straight out of the can.

  Ballard answered in between bites. “There is enough fuel there to keep it going for months,” he took another bite. “But they have a battery bank that collects additional energy from other sources.”

  “What other sources?” asked Cale.

  Tomes answered this time. “I think they have wind turbines and solar panels up somewhere, sergeant.”

  “Do we know where?” inquired Cale.

  Ballard finished what was in his mouth. “I noticed some wires running from tree to tree when we moved the bodies out. Ouch. Burned my fucking tongue,” he chuckled.

  Cale looked around the common area and kitchen. Everyone was spread out enjoying their meals. Huffman and Ashley sat on the couch together. Ballard, Grey, Bailey, and Tomes sat at the booth in the kitchen. And Curtis occupied a chair on the opposite side of the table. Cale was leaned against the wall next to the door that led to the rest of the facility.

  “What about those cameras?” asked Curtis. “What do we know about them?”

  “They’re on a closed circuit,” Bailey answered. “You can view all angles on the ‘S1’ channel. There’s a transmitter in the cabinet,” he pointed to the wooden doors under the television. “You can broadcast out of any one or all of them simultaneously.”

  “How the fuck do you know all of that?” inquired Grey.

  “Electronics have always kind of been my thing,” confessed Bailey. “Actually I want to take a look at the turbines and panels they have set up.”

  “Finding those aren’t important right now,” said Curtis with a full mouth.

  They looked at him and waited for him to swallow his food.

  “We need to lay low for now and wait for the patrols to give up on finding us. Get cozy people,” he suggested. “We’re going to be down here for a while.”

  “I was hoping to zero my weapon,” stated Cale.

  “Sorry. It’s all going to have to wait. They’ll have drones flying around twenty-four seven looking for survivors,” he explained.

  “How do you know, staff sergeant?” asked Bailey.

  “I was part of the quarantine in Germany. Any civilians that got into our ‘safe zone’ were shot on sight. We didn’t want the infection to spread any worse than it had. And part of our procedure was round-the-clock drone surveillance. If they can’t find us they’ll assume we’re dead,” Curtis informed them. “So again, I’m sorry but we’re staying here. No exceptions.”

  Staff Sergeant Curtis finished his sentence as he looked at Grey. She was unable to hide her reaction to this news. Curtis couldn’t blame her. Hell, he couldn’t blame any of them. They were on American soil now and he himself fought the urge to just run home. It had to be one hundred times worse for Grey since she was only about five miles from home. This was literally torture.

  “I’m depending on all of you. We have a mission to do still,” he said.

  Curtis made sure to lock eyes with every one of them to confirm his orders were understood. He didn’t like being the bad guy, but right now he had no choice.

  “Roger,” Cale answered for all of them.

  Cale watched Grey wipe the tears from her eyes. She was far stronger than he was. Nothing on this Earth would stop him from running the last five miles home. Not Staff Sergeant Curtis, not an army, and sure as shit not zombies. Ballard offered her a hug which she gratefully accepted.

  “Sergeant,” Curtis addressed Cale. “I’m appointing you Sergeant of the Guard. I want a roster within the next hour. I don’t care how long the shifts are or in what order.”

  “Roger, staff sergeant,” replied Cale.

  He was now in charge of assigning people times for fire guard. Curtis must not trust the security of the bunker. Perhaps he feared the tenth member would be back, they never did find a body.

  “Go ahead and put me on it too,” added Curtis.

  “Roger.”

  Cale pulled out Zach’s tan notebook and a pen. He started at the front, skipping past the pages filled with Zach’s mission notes. One of the missions had G112 marked as the best truck and crew. Cale chuckled to himself as he found a blank page.

  “Well I’ll start by asking for volunteers. We’ll do two-person shifts of two hours starting at twenty-one hundred,” stated Cale.

  Ballard was the first to speak up. He always was.

  “I’ll take oh-one-hundred to oh-three-hundred,” he replied.

  He just volunteered himself for the worst shift. Four hours of sleep only to wake up for two hours, then attempt to fall back to sleep for two more hours. Cale wasn’t going to deny him though, as he jotted down the time and Ballard’s name.

  “I’ll…I’ll take the same shift,” Grey offered.

  “Done and done,” whispered Cale as he added her to the 0100-0300 block.

  “Bailey and me will take twenty-three hundred to oh-one-hundred. sergeant,” stated Tomes.

  Cale fought the urge to correct his grammar. Something he use to do to Zach. Eventually he gave up when it became apparent Zach didn’t care. Like Zach, Tomes struck Cale as the kind of person who didn’t care if he sounded unintelligent.

  “Got ya,” replied Cale.

  “We’ll go first,” voiced Ashley as she tapped Huffman’s arm.

  “Good,” Cale said. “That leaves you and I with the last shift, staff sergeant.”

  “Good work,” Curtis praised him. “I thought that was going to be more difficult.”

  “Nah,” stated Cale. “We’re an all volunteer force.”

  Ballard laughed.

  “You have a couple of hours before fire guard starts, so use your time wisely,” Curtis recommended.

  “Anyone know if
those showers actually work?” asked Cale.

  The dried fluids of the undead he’d used for camouflage still covered his face and body.

  “This bunker is outfitted with its own well and water treatment, so I’d venture to say yes,” answered Ballard. “Don’t know if it’ll be warm at all though.”

  “Can’t say I’ll care,” said Cale as he gestured to the filth on himself.

  “There were lots of extra clothes in the locker room and in the footlockers in the bedroom, sergeant,” said Ballard.

  “Thanks,” said Cale.

  Cale walked through the latrine and into the locker room. Slowly he walked down the aisle reading the names:

  Brad, Heather, Janet, Richard, Stephen, Allison, Vanessa, Peter, Jason, Paula.

  When they’d moved the bodies they discovered that the blue jumpsuits they wore had names on them. Like a team uniform. Jason was the man who’d killed himself in the storage room. He was about the same build as Cale. Cale opened the locker. Another uniform occupied a hanger. On the other hangers were civilian clothing. An unopened hygiene kit sat on a shelf.

  “Thank you Jason,” whispered Cale.

  Slowly he emptied his pockets and placed the items on the bench. He stacked his dog tags, iPod, pen, notebook, knife, and belt. From his breast pocket he pulled out his Common Access Card and Jason’s phone.

  “Forget you had that?” asked Zach who was sitting on the bench looking at the items.

  “Yeah,” answered Cale.

  “Why’d you keep it?”

  “He had it out like he was using it. If I can find his charger I can see what he used it for,” Cale replied.

  “You know it won’t work Cale,” said Zach gravely. “There is no way you can make that call. The towers are down.”

  “Maybe they’re not,” objected Cale.

  “Don’t do this to yourself,” urged Zach.

  “Shut up,” Cale hissed.

  He went to shoot Zach a dirty look but he was already gone.

  “Whatever,” he whispered.

  He undressed and grabbed the hygiene kit. A rack of towels sat outside of the entry to the shower. Inside two metal posts rose out of the floor. The walls were made of yellow tile, and the floor white tile. On each post were four nozzles around the top. Below each nozzle was a set of knobs. Excited he hurried to the post. Cale started with the hot water. The pipes groaned as water moved through them for the first time in months. Cale extended his hand and felt the cold water.

  “Fuck,” he said.

  Slowly the water temperature increased.

  “Thank God for that,” he said relieved.

  He adjusted the knobs to a desirable temperature. His wet hands fumbled to open the hygiene kit, but soon he had the soap out and worked it into a lather. He scrubbed away the dried entrails and brain from himself. Cale watched the tainted water run down his body. The brown fluid swirled around the drain before disappearing. After he’d thoroughly washed himself he applied another layer of soap. Cale wanted to make sure he got all of it.

  “Hot water work?” asked Ballard with a similar hygiene kit in hand.

  “Takes a moment. But yeah,” answered Cale.

  Ballard approached the opposite shower pillar and turned on the water.

  “Oh shit,” Ballard stated.

  “Give it a sec,” chuckled Cale.

  “This is roomy,” observed Bailey as he joined in.

  He joined Ballard at his pillar. After carefully adjusting the water temperature he stepped into its flow.

  “Just what I needed,” sighed Bailey.

  “Right?” Ballard replied.

  Silence settled in as the men enjoyed this rare luxury. Cale watched the suds glide toward the drain. Water dripped off of his nose. He wanted to just stand here and enjoy the hot water. But he knew they’d need to conserve it. Reluctantly he turned off the water and gathered his things. As he walked out, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself. He rounded the corner and approached Jason’s locker. Cale returned the shower kit to the locker. After drying off he put on the clean pair of civilian clothes that were hanging. A black T-shirt and denim jeans. Cale didn’t recognize the logo on its back. A bird with its wings expanded encompassed by a white circle.

  “How long are they gonna be, sergeant?” asked Airman Ashley from the door to the latrine.

  “Not sure,” replied Cale. “I’ll ask.”

  “I’ll ask them,” she stated as she hobbled toward the showers.

  Before Cale could object further she was at the shower entrance.

  “Hey, hurry up in here!” she ordered. “Females want to shower too!”

  “Then come on in!” Bailey answered.

  Cale could only imagine what gesture Bailey made to warrant Ashley’s response.

  “Gross! Put that thing away!” she demanded. “You’re not my type anyway. I’m a vagitarian.”

  Laughter erupted from the next room.

  “A what?” asked Bailey.

  “Dude, she bats for our team,” chuckled Ballard.

  Cale laughed to himself and shook his head. He retrieved the items he’d left on the bench and his clothes. The back and forth banter continued as Cale walked back out into the latrine. Specialist Huffman walked in from the hallway carrying some folded clothes.

  “These people brought a lot of clothes but no shower stuff,” she stated.

  “In the lockers there’s stuff,” Cale assured her. “I’ve laid claim to Jason’s locker.”

  Huffman grimaced.

  “Sorry?” Cale said confused.

  “It’s just…it’s just I don’t like to think about what their names were. Because…you know…” she explained.

  Cale nodded. “Okay. Sorry.”

  “No,” she said. “I shouldn’t have—it’s silly.”

  “No you’re fine,” he said in an effort to comfort her.

  He understood not wanting to think of these things as being people once. But he feared if he allowed himself to do the same he’d lose himself. He’d be just as cold hearted and empty as them. Cale couldn’t imagine thinking of Zach in that way.

  “But if we don’t try and remember them as being human than who will?” he inquired her.

  Huffman paused at his words. Cale left her to contemplate what he’d said. In the barracks Tomes sat on a bunk flipping through a small book.

  “What’s that?” asked Cale.

  “A journal, sergeant,” he replied without looking up.

  “Whose?”

  Tomes flipped back to the front of the book to recall the name.

  “Uh-Brad Everett,” he replied. “But there’s nothing useful in here. He stopped writing in it just before Thanksgiving of 2007. Everything else in here is personal stuff. Nothing about what this place is or who these people were. Nothing about what happened or how the infection took over the United States.”

  “But there’s gotta be something in there,” stated Cale.

  Tomes shook his head. “It’s barely personal. It’s more like a basic day-to-day log. A list of facts that aren’t even viewed in biased.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Listen to this,” he answered. “October eighth, 2007. Today after work Heather and I went to the new coffee shop downtown. She ordered a chai latte and I got a mocha. After that we went to the book store.” Tomes closed the book. “It’s more like he was a fucking robot logging his human activities for the day.”

  “Sounds that way,” Cale laughed.

  He looked around at the wall lockers. Jason’s was the first to his left next to Paula’s and across from Tomes. Jason and Paula’s suitcases sat in front of their bunks.

  “Let’s see what Jason had,” he said as he grabbed the large black suitcase.

  He tossed it onto the bunk, dust flew into the air. Cale waved away the particulates and unzipped it. He sneezed as more dust kicked up.

  “Bless you, sergeant,” Tomes said behind him.

  “Thanks,” he replied withou
t looking back.

  Inside were more of Jason’s clothes. Cale tossed them aside and searched deeper. Along the bottom were a pair of reading glasses and a couple of books. His hand hit something and he heard a rattle. Cale retrieved the item. An orange bottle of pills prescribed to him by a Dr. Vanessa Sharp. Cale recognized Hydrocodone as a pain killer, and couldn’t help but wonder if Dr. Vanessa was the same Vanessa that had the locker one locker over. He couldn’t help thinking they’d perhaps had a “dealer-abuser” relationship.

  He tossed the bottle back into the suitcase and closed it to search the outside pouches. Cale pulled out a cheap lighter and a carton of cigarettes.

  “Really Jason?” Cale whispered as he tossed the carton onto the bunk.

  His hand hit what he’d been hoping for. Hurriedly he extracted the phone charger. Cale plugged it into the wall and produced the phone from his pocket. He attached the wire to the cell phone. A bloodstain fingerprint covered the exterior screen and part of the silver case. Beneath the stain, the screen lit up. It displayed a battery symbol with a lightning bolt in it. Cale flipped it open and held down the power button. The company’s logo appeared on the little green screen. Followed by the word “Hello.” After a few seconds the “Hello” faded and a menu screen popped up. Cale watched as the phone came to life and looked for its link to the world. After its long slumber it sadly discovered it was alone as it displayed the “no signal” icon.

  “I told you,” Zach stated from the next bunk over.

  He was laid back tracing the pattern of the wood on the bunk above him with his finger. Cale closed his eyes and willed Zach out of existence. When he opened them, Zach was gone. Jason’s messages, photos, and video files were all still intact. Cale checked the messages first. There were a series of texts between him and Dick. Among them a list of supplies. Further back a slew of messages about getting to the place and checking the caches. He continued to scroll and found four of them in a row that said “This is it!” They were sent to Dick, Steve, Vanessa, and Brad. Everything before that was personal and irrelevant. Cale switched over to the phone log. Jason had placed numerous calls to multiple numbers on December eighteenth. He’d frantically dialed 911 in between every attempt.