“What thing?” Cale objected.
“You’re such a boy scout!” he accused. “You try and help everyone you come across when you should be helping yourself.”
Cale stood in silence. He stared at the tile floor as he thought about what Zach was saying. Part of him wanted to succumb to the urge to leave. A very large part. Cale was startled by Bailey’s hand waving an inch from his face.
“You okay, sergeant?” he asked.
“Yeah-yeah,” stammered Cale. “I’m fine. Just thinking is all.”
Cale’s face flushed with embarrassment.
“I heard you talking,” Bailey informed him.
“I was just talking to myself is all,” explained Cale.
“Liar,” accused Zach.
“About what?” questioned Bailey.
“Just asking myself where I’d seen the dehydrated fruit packs,” fabricated Cale in an instant.
It, however, was a horrible lie. The entire shelf he was standing next to was devoted entirely to dehydrated fruit.
“Smooth,” said Zach sarcastically.
“They’re right there, sergeant,” Bailey pointed to the shelf behind Cale.
He appeared skeptical.
“Are you okay, sergeant?” he asked again.
“Yeah,” Cale’s lie was more believable this time.
He couldn’t exactly tell everyone that he was seeing his dead best friend whom he’d killed. And that he frequently had conversations with him.
Bailey opened his pack and grabbed a few items before closing it.
“Staff sergeant said to carry everything we could,” Cale informed him.
“Really? He just told me to grab enough for about three days,” said Bailey.
“Maybe I heard him wrong,” offered Cale.
“You didn’t,” retorted Zach. “Just fill your bag.”
Cale yielded to Zach’s pressure and finished completely stuffing his bag. Once he couldn’t fit anymore in, he closed it and went to the living room to wait. He was the first one done. After a couple of minutes, Curtis joined him. He had his bag all packed and carried additional boxes of ammo. They were 9mm and 5.56 rounds.
“Put these in your bag,” he ordered as he thrust them at Cale.
“I already—” Cale began.
“Trust me,” interrupted Curtis. “Take them.”
“My bag is pretty full. Not sure I’ll have room,” explained Cale.
“Make them fit,” Curtis said sternly.
“Okay,” Cale said confused.
He took the boxes and crammed them into his pack. Cale struggled to fit them in and then fought to fasten the plastic buckle. It clicked loudly when he finally managed it. Tomes and Bailey came in a few minutes later. The four men donned their heavy coats and stocking caps. Curtis turned the television on and viewed the security feeds. Two figures stood idly in the clearing. Their backs were toward the bunker door.
“Tomes,” Curtis barked. “Go make sure everything is off. Water, lights, everything.”
“Roger,” he replied.
He went to his task while the others waited. After a moment he returned and nodded to Curtis.
“Sergeant, you’ll go out first,” explained Curtis. “Take care of those two,” he pointed at the screen. “Then we’ll rally.”
“Roger.”
Cale exited the bunker door and entered the dark stair way. The others had been nice enough to close the hatch so the undead couldn’t crowd them. Behind him, Tomes, then Bailey, and finally Curtis followed. Curtis shut off the last light and closed the bunker door. With his rifle at the ready, Cale went up the stairs in darkness. He made sure to not make a sound. His boots caused the stairs to groan softly under his weight. After counting up six steps Cale could feel the hatch brush against the top of his head. He stopped. Carefully he lifted the hatch. Light spilled into the small crack he’d created and flooded the stairwell. Dried leaves rolled off the top. Cale looked for the two infected he’d seen on the monitor. They were off to his right. One of them began to sniff at the air. Slowly he began to turn. The scent of fresh flesh had gotten stronger. He now faced the bunker. His glossy sunken eyes searched the area for the source of the smell. His blue coveralls were riddled with bullet holes. A portion of his nose had rotted off. He flashed his yellow teeth. It was like he was smiling at Cale. This sent a shiver through his body. Cale could see the undead mechanic’s tongue wagging in his mouth in an attempt to taste the air.
Sensing they were about to be discovered, Cale threw open the hatch. Leaves flew through the air as he jumped up the last few steps. Muscle memory kicked in as he brought the rifle into his shoulder. He pressed his cheek up against the stock so that his nose almost touched the charging handle. Quickly, his eye found a target through his ACOG scope. He fired. The suppressor did its job. The only sound the weapon made was a metallic click when the bolt struck the round. Bits of brain sprayed out of the back of the man’s head. Cale quickly switched targets and shot the second creature before the first even hit the ground.
“Damn,” said Tomes as both infected crumpled to the ground.
Cale stepped out of the stairwell and onto the ground. He spun slowly to get a good three hundred sixty degree view. The leaves had all fallen off the trees. Seventy-five yards into the forest he could see more infected. They passed back and forth through the trees.
“Immediate area is clear,” he whispered, “but there’s a group to the south.”
“Roger,” said Staff Sergeant Curtis. “Good shooting,” he added as he climbed the last step.
The four of them circled up with their weapons ready. Curtis prepared to give them their orders.
“Listen up,” he said softly.
Each man remained oriented to the exterior of the perimeter.
“We’re going north to the airfield. Should be a day and a half journey one way. If it’s clear we’ll set up shop, if it’s not we’ll come back. If that’s the case I’ll release you,” he informed them.
Cale’s heart skipped a beat.
“Release?” asked Bailey.
“Yes,” stated Curtis. “There won’t be any point in holding you guys if we can’t even complete the mission.”
“Roger,” replied Cale. “You heard the man. Let’s go north!”
“Not you,” Curtis stopped him.
“What? Why?” questioned Cale.
Cale turned to face him.
“You have a family to get to and a long way to go yet,” he said sympathetically. “As of right now…” he paused. “You’re released.”
Cale smiled. This is why Curtis had given him different orders than the rest.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Yeah. Now go before I changed my mind,” Curtis joked.
“Okay,” Cale laughed.
Both marines looked at him.
“This is goodbye, fellas,” he said to them.
“Take it easy, sergeant,” replied Bailey.
“Good luck,” chimed Tomes.
Curtis offered his hand which Cale took.
“Thank you for your service, sergeant,” praised Curtis.
“Thank you,” replied Cale with a hearty handshake. “And good luck.”
Cale turned and headed west. His heart was racing.
“Hey Cale,” called Curtis.
Cale looked back at the three men.
“Bye.”
“Good bye,” he said back.
Everything that needed to be said had been said. Cale excitedly resumed his journey. He was going home.
Chapter 14
NEEDS OF ONE
“You should pace yourself,” suggested Zach.
“What?” asked Cale, panting heavily.
The cold mountain air was playing hell on his lungs. Despite the cold temperature Cale was sweating profusely.
“Pace yourself,” Zach repeated.
Cale had been running since separating with the others, about an hour ago. His old cross-country training had kicked in.
Long strides down hills and short ones up them.
“Shut up,” snapped Cale.
He couldn’t stop running. Cale was excited, but more so scared. He feared being caught by what was left of the military. They’d either take him prisoner, or worse, kill him. He forced himself to walk when he realized he was coming to a slope. The slope turned out to be a cliff that dropped about fifty feet. He stopped on the bluff to catch his breath. It overlooked a ravine. From here he could see across it to the adjacent mountain. On it sat a large tower, perched at the top. It was a Park Ranger Observation Tower. Cale took in the view. Many of the trees were bare, but a few pines still had needles. Large puffy clouds hung in a light blue sky. The sun was high in the western sky, and that tower would be the perfect place to call it a day. It was a long way to go but Cale was sure he could be there before sundown.
A flock of geese honked overhead. They were flying south in their trademark formation. The “V” was a little heavy on one side. Cale always wondered why they did that. Cale looked over the edge. There was no way he was climbing down. He spun around when he heard leaves rustling behind him.
“Incoming,” warned Zach as he stepped out of an undead woman’s way.
She, of course, ignored Zach, who was a figment of Cale’s imagination, and stumbled toward Cale. She’d been an overweight woman. Most of her blonde hair with black roots had fallen out. Her face was covered in dried blood, as was her work uniform. A fast food logo and a name tag that read “Kat.” It had been some time since her last meal. She opened and closed her mouth in a chomping motion. Cale noticed that Kat didn’t have any teeth.
“Trailer park zombie is gonna get ya!” laughed Zach.
Cale dipped out of her way and she walked right off of the cliff. She didn’t make a sound as she went over, just when she slammed into the ground. Cale looked down to see where she landed. The fall, unfortunately, didn’t kill her. He could see her flailing her arms. She was completely disoriented down there.
“Thank God they’re dumb,” chuckled Zach.
“Thank God,” repeated Cale.
He adjusted his pack and his weapon’s sling. He was going to have to find a way around if he wanted to get to the tower by nightfall. Cale followed the bluff toward the northwest. Due to the steep terrain the area was free of infected. He could visibly tell where they’d tripped and rolled down the hill. Now that he’d caught his breath Cale resumed his jog. As he took each step he checked the ground for a good foothold.
“You should slow down,” Zach’s voice cautioned him.
Cale again ignored his better judgment and continued to trek down the bluff. The cliff gave way to a still extremely steep slope. To his right he could hear twigs snapping violently. The creature howled as he came rolling at Cale.
“Oh ship!” Cale said surprised.
He managed to jump over the shrieking ghoul but in doing so, lost his own footing. Cale too began to tumble down the hill. He used one arm to guard his face and the other to hold onto his rifle. His view transitioned between blue sky and leaves rapidly. His legs hit a tree, which changed his trajectory. Cale now summersaulted down the hill. His pack helped slow him down. He struck his head on the ground and knocked himself unconscious. Cale awoke a few minutes later. Zach hovered over him.
“Still with me?” he asked.
Cale groaned. “Yeah.”
“Good news is you found a short cut,” Zach said cheerfully.
“Yeah…” Cale sat up “Yeah, I guess I did.”
He inspected himself for major injuries. Starting with the parts of his body that hurt the worst. Cale touched his forehead, his hand produced blood. Somewhere on the hill he lost his stocking cap. His chest and shoulders would no doubt develop bruises. He discovered a tear in his pants. His leg underneath had a gash. Nothing life threatening though. The man that caused him to fall hadn’t been so lucky. He’d literally fallen apart as he violently bounced down the incline. Pieces of him were everywhere.
“He kissed the tree,” stated Zach.
Cale looked and saw that the man’s skull was smashed into the bark of the tree. Slowly, Cale climbed to his feet. He was wobbly at first but regained his balance. Now at the bottom, he couldn’t see the ranger station anymore, but knew the general direction it was in. The trees, even though mostly bare, were denser than they’d appeared and obstructed his view. With throbbing injuries and a renewed sense of caution, Cale continued his hike up the other side of the ravine. He looked for signs of the infected as he went. Far off in the distance, a sound like thunder startled Cale.
He paused to listen better. Then it happened again. And again. Someone was engaging in a firefight to the north of his position. Multiple shots erupted in exchange. He hoped Curtis and the others hadn’t run into trouble. Cale convinced himself that they’d have been more northeast and definitely not that far away. The fight lasted for a few minutes, eventually becoming a single shot intermittently. Ten feet in front of him Cale could see movement. A small group of infected were walking away from him.
Whoever it was had done him a favor. All of that activity was going to draw in all the infected within earshot. Not wanting to waste this opportunity he continued his march. Cale walked for a while more. He’d moved up the other side of the ravine a considerable distance. He paused to listen to the forest around him. His ears rang as he strained to hear. Ringing was good. It meant there was no sound.
Cale took off his pack and pulled out some jerky. He held it in his mouth as he put the backpack back on. He devoured the tasty meat as he walked. The sun had dropped to the middle of the western sky. He stepped out into a clearing that offered a better view. The ranger tower was northwest of his position. He’d drifted south a bit, but it wouldn’t take long to get back on track. Cale took a sip out of his water bottle and altered his path. After another hour of walking, he walked onto an old dirt road. Fifty yards away the tower loomed. At the foot of the tower sat a supply shack and a brown 2003 Bronco with government plates. Printed on the side was a logo of a forest and the words “Park Ranger.”
He was excited to have a vehicle, however, it also meant someone might be in the tower. Cale scanned the windows for movement, but saw none. If he was being watched he didn’t want to appear hostile. So he avoided aggressive gestures. This meant leaving his weapon slung. While he walked by the truck he noticed that fallen leaves and branches covered it. Water stains verified it had endured harsh weather. He wiped his hand across the hood. His hand was black from the multiple layers of dirt. Cale cleaned his hand off on his pant leg. Upon closer inspection, the tower also looked like it had withstood a year’s worth of neglect. The windows were so filthy he couldn’t see through them. Cale approached the stairs of the tower. He looked around before going up and noticed a cross made of sticks protruding from the ground a few feet away. It was a grave.
Someone cared enough to bury their dead. He made his way up the rickety looking steps that lead to a hatch. Cale tried to push it up but something stopped it. He tried again. It was locked. He’d have to shoot through the wood. Except that meant he couldn’t lock it behind him.
“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there,” he muttered.
Cale stepped back and grabbed his rifle. He aimed at the bolts that seated the lock to the door. Wood and metal flew as the round hit its target. Cale placed the weapon back on safe and slung it. The door pushed open easily. Once Cale was safely on the observation deck, he closed it behind him. The tower windows were coated with something. Whatever it was, was on the inside and Cale couldn’t see through it. He walked around the deck to look for the door. A section of a window was clear enough to reveal a figure moving inside. It paralleled Cale’s movement. Cale froze. The figure inside had also stopped moving.
“I thinks he’s dead,” stated Zach who’d startled Cale.
“Obviously,” replied Cale.
“No, I mean dead-dead,” he explained.
Cale leaned closer to the glass. Zach was right. He could
see that the figure was a man. He was suspended by his neck and a chair was tipped over on the floor under him. Cale pressed his face against the glass in an effort to surmise more detail about the room. Something scurried across the glass right in front of him.
“Shit!” he jumped back.
Cale realized that it was a spider. In fact, the windows had bugs all over them. Zach laughed at him.
“Oh ha ha,” mocked Cale. “Easy for you. You’re not real!”
He continued laughing at Cale’s expense. Cale regained his composure and circled around to the door. Before going in he looked out from the tower. It was beautiful. Nothing but rolling hills of forest in every direction. A plume of smoke rose and drifted in the north. It was most likely the scene of the shootout Cale had heard earlier. The sun was low in the west. Another hour and it’d be dark. That had to be the absolute one thing Cale hated about autumn. It was dark by 1600 hours.
Cale returned to the task of gaining entry to the tower. The door was on the west side. Cale gripped it’s brass knob. It was cold in his hand and squeaked loudly as he turned it. The door swung inward. It hadn’t even been barricaded. By now Cale had grown accustomed to the smell of the dead, but this was somehow different. Worse even. He fought the urge to gag, but nature won out as he ran to the railing to retch violently. Stomach bile and bits of jerky spewed from his mouth and over the edge. The acidic fluid fell one hundred feet to the ground.
“God damn it,” he choked.
He wiped his watery eyes and unzipped his coat a little bit. Cale pulled his shirt up to cover his nose and mouth. It wasn’t perfect, but it helped. The man’s body had been baked throughout the summer, catching sun in both morning and evening. He stepped into the room. It was much warmer than outside and sustained various kinds of insect and arachnid life. Mold had also grown along the floor. The air was humid and thick. Spiderwebs hung thickly from the ceiling like curtains. The grime that covered the windows was a combination of insect feces, molted skin, and cobwebs. He slung his rifle and pulled out his knife. Cale stood the chair up and elevated himself. He began the long process of cutting the man down. His blade wasn’t made for this kind of work. Bugs flew around wildly. The man’s body swayed as Cale sawed at the rope. A centipede crawled out of a wound on the man’s head and fell to the floor, as well as other creepy crawlies that had showed themselves. Strips of flesh melted off of him. Cale was beginning to feel light headed. He forced himself to saw more vigorously. It was down to the last millimeter of rope. Cale tried to catch the man as he fell, but he fell apart in his arms. Pus and rotted meat soaked his coat.
Z Plan (Book 3): Homecoming Page 14
