Z Plan (Book 3): Homecoming

by Lerma, Mikhail

  “Ah!” he whispered playfully.

  “Sorry,” she replied.

  “It’s okay,” Ballard assured her.

  Cale slid into his sleeping bag. He reached into the tan backpack he’d inherited from Jason, and pulled out his iPod and ear buds. As he sorted through his album list Grey and Ballard dressed for their shift.

  “Who’s after us?” asked Ballard.

  Cale knew Ballard already knew, but answered anyway.

  “Ashley and Huffman.”

  “Roger. Anything exciting happen, sergeant?” asked Grey.

  “Not really. Just a few wanderers,” he explained. “We did see one digging outside our door.”

  “What?” exclaimed Ballard. “How would he know to do that?”

  “The sergeant here thinks they can smell us,” interrupted Curtis as he walked down the center of the room.

  “That can’t be possible,” Grey was shocked.

  “Anytime I’ve been in a place too long they’d turn up,” said Cale. “They seem to sort me out and hang around in my general vicinity.”

  Cale realized he’d had a lot more experience in evading the undead than any of them. For the most part, they’d always been part of a group and could share the burdens of security. If the infected found them, they had enough people to fight them off and move on. When he’d first met up with Blair’s group, many people were skeptical of him being in Iraq when the dead began to rise. They’d thought of warzones as black holes, places where no one could get out.

  “How can they smell anything over themselves?” Ballard asked rhetorically.

  Cale offered a shrug.

  “Just make sure to check the screen every fifteen minutes or so,” ordered Curtis.

  “Roger, staff sergeant,” replied Grey.

  “Other than that,” Curtis added. “enjoy your night.”

  With that said Curtis walked to the end of the room where his bunk was and climbed into bed for the night. Cale put in his ear buds and hit “play.” “Minerva” by Deftones began to play softly. He could hear Grey and Ballard stuffing their belongings into their bags. Cale turned up his music slightly to mute them out. He looked from his screen and made eye contact with Ballard, who said something Cale didn’t catch.

  “Night,” he replied anyway.

  Cale started his ritual of flipping through the photos on his iPod. He needed to see Lauren and Marie. He immediately was filled with joy as the first picture came up. A tired looking Cale held a bottle as Marie ate greedily. Her little hand was reached up and wrapped around Cale’s little finger. He remembered Lauren smiling at them just before taking the picture. The next image appeared. It was Marie’s first day home. Lauren was giving their daughter the tour of the house. He continued scrolling through his photo album. Picture after picture. Tears welled in his eyes as he scanned every detail of their faces. His happiness became sorrow and the next picture came onto the screen.

  “You made her cry that day,” he thought to himself.

  It was their family photo. Cale, Lauren, and Marie sat under the low hanging branches of a tree. Marie wore and adorable yellow dress and a white bonnet. Her chubby cheeks looked rosy. Cale wore a nice blue shirt with buttons and a white T-shirt under it. His hair was short but disheveled. Cale looked at Lauren. Her smile was the center of the picture. Her yellow blouse projected happiness and warmth. Cale remembered that day. His army buddy Andy, who’d had a few photography classes, had taken the photo. He did a damn good job too. It looked professional. But Cale dwelled on what happened at home after the picture. Ever since he’d gotten the news that he was going to deploy he’d subconsciously distanced himself from them. As if it would lessen the heartache when he had to leave. Cale threw himself into pointless side projects and volunteered to take people’s shifts at work. All to avoid being around them. He convinced himself he was trying to make extra money before going to build a nest egg. And that these side projects would somehow make life easier.

  “It’s like you’re already gone!” Lauren shouted at him.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. He hated himself for making her cry. The make-up she’d painstakingly applied for the photo streaked down her face. He could see fear and loneliness in her big brown eyes. Cale couldn’t remember how the rest of their discussion went, but he knew he’d modified his behavior. Anything to not make her cry like that again.

  The next image slid onto the screen. He was laid back on the couch and Marie was on his chest. Both of them were asleep. Lauren had secretly taken this one. He smiled. He shut off the iPod and rolled to face the wall. Hot tears gushed out of his eyes as he secretly cried.

  “You’ll find them,” said Zach as he gently touched Cale’s shoulder.

  Chapter 13

  NEEDS OF THE FEW

  Cale sat in the small booth smashing the phone receiver against his ear. It hurt but it was the only way he could hear anything. He could barely hear Lauren over the crackles emitted by the speaker. A few booths down a similar scenario played out.

  “God damn it!” the man shouted before throwing the payphone receiver at the wall. “Fucking piece of shit phone! I can’t hear a fucking thing!”

  He grabbed his weapon and threw the sling over his head. He then snatched up the plastic post-exchange bag. Cale could see a carton of cigarettes through it. Just as soon as the man left the booth another soldier who was waiting in line jumped into the vacant seat. Eagerly he picked up the receiver and pounded away at the metal buttons. He didn’t care that the man before him said that it didn’t work. It was his turn to try.

  The booths were made of wood. Graffiti was drawn, written, and even carved into them. Messages from self proclaimed poets, disgruntled soldiers, and even prophets were there to read. Messages like; “I won’t die here,” and “Pakistan is next.” A vulgar poem about Australian women and a warrior’s haiku. There were also crude drawings that closely resembled ancient cave paintings. That is, if Neanderthals drew stick people having sex. These walls were like a caveman karma sutra. “Right now your best friend is fucking your girl” was etched into the wood’s surface.

  “I love you too,” Cale said. “Bye.”

  Cale slowly returned the receiver to its pedestal, and grabbed his weapon and soft cap. He pulled the cap over his head, then checked to make sure it would appear parallel to the ground. He stood up from the wooden bench and turned around to see Zach. Cale knew this was a memory. He was dreaming, but he went with it anyway.

  “I love you, Jo,” he said softly.

  Zach hung up the phone and gathered his belongings. Just like before, as soon as Cale and Zach moved out of the booths, two eager soldiers jumped into their places. Zach’s massive M249 hung from his lean body. He quickly wiped his eyes to hide the fact that he’d been on the verge of tears.

  “Everything okay?” asked Cale.

  “Yeah,” he said. “We were just fighting again.”

  “About what?”

  “She keeps bringing up having kids,” he explained. “I just don’t think I’m ready, is all.”

  “I don’t think we ever are till it happens, bud,” Cale comforted him.

  Together they exited the call center, but instead of walking into the dusty market of LSA Adder, they were on a school playground. The temperature was much cooler. Their weapons were gone but they were still in uniform. Cale could smell fresh leaves and grass. He recognized this place. It was Franklin Elementary School. He’d attended first and second grade here before being moved to Lincoln Elementary. Cale walked for the rusted swing set and Zach followed. Each man took a seat. Cale kicked off the ground and swung his legs to propel himself higher. The chain supporting his weight squeaked loudly. Zach sat still and pushed woodchips around with his boot.

  “Why are we here?” asked Zach.

  “Don’t know,” replied Cale. “it’s peaceful.”

  Clouds idly drifted by in the baby blue sky.

  “What are we doing?”

  Cale laughed. “Don’t k
now about you, but I’m swinging.”

  Across the playground he could see Ballard and Grey putting on their packs and grabbing their weapons. The two of them walked toward Cale and Zach. Cale slowed down. The two of them appeared anxious. Cale stopped swinging entirely.

  “Doesn’t that seem weird to you?” Zach inquired.

  It did.

  “They’re hiding something,” whispered Cale.

  Ballard made eye contact with Cale His lips moved but it was inaudible like before.

  “What did he say?” Cale asked.

  Ballard’s lips moved again. Then, as if he were stuck on a loop, he said it again, then again. Gradually his voice grew louder.

  “Goodbye,” said Ballard.

  He then froze in place like a statue.

  “Why would he say that?” asked Zach.

  Cale was confused. Someone called to him from across the playground. He couldn’t see anyone around. Again the voice called out. Cale could see Bailey running onto the playground.

  “Sergeant, wake up!” he shouted.

  Cale jolted awake as did Staff Sergeant Curtis. Tomes and Bailey were frantic.

  “What’s going on?” demanded Curtis as he jumped out of his bunk.

  “No one woke us for fireguard,” explained Tomes. “They’re gone!”

  “Who’s gone?” asked Cale.

  “Ballard, Huffman,” explained Bailey. “Ashley, and Grey! They’re not here sergeant!”

  “Well where the fuck are they?” inquired Curtis.

  “Staff sergeant, we looked everywhere!” Tomes informed him.

  “All we found was this,” Bailey presented a piece of paper. “It was on the table.”

  Curtis snatched it and began reading furiously.

  “FUCK!” he shouted.

  He handed the paper to Cale.

  “When did they leave?” asked Cale as he looked at the paper.

  “Not sure. We just woke up,” answered Tomes.

  We’re sorry. Took enough food to last us a couple of days. Left everything else. Want to be with our families. Good luck.

  “Well it’s short and to the point,” said Cale.

  The note pretty much summed up his feelings too. Being an NCO now is what stopped him. It’d be a horrible example to set if he’d taken off.

  “Did they say something to any of you?” Curtis asked them.

  Tomes and Bailey shook their heads.

  “Nope,” answered Cale. “Probably because I’m a sergeant, and your second in command. These two,” he gestured to the two marines, “were probably left out because they’re marines.”

  “Why would that matter?” objected Tomes.

  “Marines have a reputation for following orders and lower desertion rates,” recalled Cale. “They didn’t trust you.”

  “How do you know that’s the reason?” asked Bailey.

  “If I were going to desert I wouldn’t tell anyone standing here,” explained Cale. “Two NCOs and their most devoted? No. I’d keep this decision in house. E-4 mafia.”

  “Right,” Tomes nodded.

  “Even you guys know about the E-4 mafia?” objected Curtis.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” asked Bailey.

  “No! But we’re getting off subject,” retorted Curtis. “What about the security cameras? Could they maybe tell us when they left?”

  “No,” answered Bailey. “The cameras don’t record.”

  “Fuck,” he hissed.

  “I might be able to track them,” stated Tomes. “I was raised in woods like these. My dad taught me to hunt the old-fashioned way.”

  “What are you going to do if you find them?” asked Cale.

  “Bring them back!” Curtis exclaimed angrily. “They’re deserters!”

  “Aren’t we all?” Cale argued. “If Zach hadn’t convinced me, I’d probably be a reanimated corpse wandering a desert right now. And you’d be one in Germany.”

  Curtis was noticeably still angry, but took a minute to appreciate Cale’s input.

  “Tomes,” he said after a brief moment. “Go see what they left us in the gun vault.”

  “Yes, staff sergeant,” he said before executing an about face.

  “Bailey, I want an exact number on where we stand on food and water,” he ordered.

  “Roger, staff sergeant,” Bailey replied.

  Once the two men had left, Curtis revealed his indecision.

  “What should we do?” he asked Cale for counsel.

  Cale was uneasy and reluctant to answer. He knew what he would do, and that was go home.

  “Honest answer,” Curtis coaxed a response from him.

  “Honest?” Cale wanted clarification.

  “Yeah. Speak freely,” encouraged Curtis.

  “This mission was over as soon as the plane crashed. We climbed out of the water with no supplies and no equipment. Damn, we barely got out with our lives. They’re all deal-breakers. We were non-mission capable before we even hit the ground. And how many of us were picked off by the strike teams? Or the dead?”

  Curtis nodded.

  “Part of me wants to see this through, but a bigger part just wants to go home. I need to go home,” Cale told him.

  “Why didn’t you go with them?” asked Curtis. “Ballard and the rest.”

  “First off,” Cale smirked, “they didn’t ask. Second, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you. As your second in command, I share the fault on this one. You at least suspected something, but I was the one who told you we could trust Ballard. If it weren’t for me, you might have caught them before they left.”

  Curtis’ expression softened. It was nice to share the blame.

  “So what now?” asked Cale.

  “Shit. I wish I knew,” he replied.

  Bailey returned.

  “Staff sergeant,” he addressed Curtis. “Virtually all of the food is accounted for. If they took any, it wasn’t much.”

  Neither NCO was surprised. Even though they’d snuck out, Ballard wouldn’t have been okay with taking all of the food. He still was a good person.

  “Good,” said Curtis.

  Tomes emerged through the vault door, ready to give his report.

  “Staff sergeant, all they took were four handguns, one rifle, a shotgun, and a couple boxes of each ammo type.”

  Curtis nodded. The group was all looking at him for further instruction.

  “So what now?” Cale asked again.

  Curtis looked at each of them before answering.

  “Everyone pack up,” he said. “Take what you can carry, including overnight gear, then wait in the living room.”

  “Roger,” both marines said in unison.

  The meeting was adjourned and the group dispersed.

  “Thanks again, Jason,” said Cale as he opened the dead man’s suitcase.

  Cale grabbed a change of clothes, some personal hygiene items, and a blanket. He stuffed the sleeping bag into its case and fastened it to his pack’s exterior. Quickly he hurried into the vault. Cale was the first one. He already had the M4 with a suppressor, now he needed a couple of handguns and ammo. He wasn’t picky, or educated, about handguns. Indiscriminately he grabbed two identical 9mm pistols and harnesses for each. He fastened one to each hip. He had to adjust Zach’s knife to make room for them. He got them all situated as Tomes and Bailey entered. Like children in a toy aisle, they looked over their choices. Almost as if a parent had told them they could only have one. Cale circled to the ammunition cabinet. He crammed a few boxes of 9mm and 5.56 rounds into his pack. He passed by the vault work bench and stopped. The how-to guide caught his eye.

  “This should come in handy,” he said as he placed it in his pack.

  “Did you take all the good weapons, sergeant?” joked Tomes as he continued to find his ideal weapon.

  “Fuck if I know,” smirked Cale. “A weapon is a weapon to me.”

  The marines laughed.

  “Would I be able to talk you out of that M4, sergeant?” Tomes inquired.


  “Not a chance,” Cale smiled.

  “Well,” said Tomes who was now admiring a hunting rifle. “I suppose this will do then.”

  Cale picked up his bag and left the vault. He cut through the barracks, then through the kitchen and into the stockroom pantry. Curtis was already there.

  “Bailey was right. They barely took anything. I hope they have enough for two days!” exclaimed Curtis.

  “Grey said the town her parents lived in wasn’t far,” replied Cale.

  “That’s still a pretty big gamble,” explained Curtis. “What if it’s overrun by infected?”

  “They’d come back. A day there and a day back,” said Cale. “They’ll come back if they have to.”

  Curtis nodded.

  “Are we gong after them?” asked Cale.

  Curtis shook his head. “No. We’ve got an airstrip to recon.”

  “Roger. How much should I take,” inquired Cale as he eyed the shelves.

  “Pack everything that you can carry,” he told him.

  Cale could see that Curtis’s bag was stuffed. Curtis tied his pack, picked it up, and headed for the gun vault.

  “You should have left with the others,” suggested Zach.

  He leaned against a food rack with his arms crossed. He wore his uniform and a smug smile.

  “I didn’t know they were going to leave,” Cale said as he angrily crammed jerky into his bag.

  You saw them gathering their things. Why would they need all of that if all they had to do was stay up and check a monitor occasionally?” he asked.

  “I…I…” Cale didn’t have an answer.

  “Telling ya, you should just go,” Zach suggested again.

  “How?” he hissed. “When?”

  He glared at Zach. Cale knew he wasn’t really there but he stared hard at him anyway.

  “When Zach?”

  “Wait till tonight when it gets dark. Slip away after everyone is asleep,” pressured Zach.

  “Right,” Cale rolled his eyes. “That would go over great! How would it look if the team leader just took off!”

  “Team leader?” Zach laughed. “You’re a squad of four people! Just because they gave you that rank doesn’t mean anything. You don’t owe them anything. I don’t know why you keep doing the same thing over and over!”