by James Harden
“Where is it?” Kenji asks. “How far away?”
“It’s in the middle of nowhere. It’s a farmhouse with a bunker. I think it’s a kind a bomb shelter. Like, a nuclear bomb shelter. Designed to last through a nuclear winter. It’s got everything. Food. Water. Shelter. And guns. Lots of guns. Enough ammunition to last two world wars. It’s even got a generator and a backup generator.”
“So wait just a damn minute,” Kim says, moving into the middle of the room with her hands on her head. “Sarah lied to us about this place, she lied so we’d go along with her and protect her…”
A lot of good we did there, I think to myself. If our end of the bargain was that we were supposed to protect her, then we failed. We failed big time. She’s already lost an arm. She’s been unbelievably close to losing her life. I wonder if she would’ve been better off without us.
“And,” Kim continues. “We’re now going to believe this guy about his hide site? A guy we don’t even know?”
“What choice do we have?” Kenji asks. “We need to get out of this town. We can use the fire truck to do that. Clark will help us avoid the patrols that Xavier has set up on the roads. He will help us do this, or he will die.”
“He could lead us right to them,” Kim argues.
“We’d be worse off without him,” I say. “At least now we know there are patrols out there. I’d rather be prepared. I’d rather know what we’re up against.”
Kim sits down. “I’m just saying we should think long and hard before we trust this guy, or believe anything that he says.”
Kenji puts his hand on Kim’s shoulder. “We will.”
“And my sister?” Sarah says.
And then Kim immediately gets back to her feet. “You think we’re going to risk our lives to get your sister after what you pulled?”
Jack limps over and physically restrains his sister.
She takes a seat again. And again says she’s fine. “I’m cool. I’m OK.”
Sarah still wants to get her sister and I can understand that. She’s come all this way and she’s not giving up. Even though right now, getting inside those walls seems like the most impossible thing in the world.
“I know how to get in and out,” Sarah says confidently. “They won’t even know I’m there.”
“How?” Clark asks eagerly. “There is no way in. We’ve checked and re-checked.”
“There’s a storm water drain, a sewer system. It’s all underground. It leads underneath the walls to the subbasement of the town hall. No one knows about it.”
Kenji thinks it over. “It’s too risky right now. This town is too hot. There’s too much activity. Those people, if they had half a brain, they’ll be on high alert. We need to re-group, we need to make sure we’re safe before we can attempt any kind of rescue.”
Sarah doesn’t like this at all. “I can’t just give up on her. I won’t…”
“I’m not saying that we give up completely,” Kenji explains. “I still think that getting behind those walls is our best shot at survival. But by the sounds of it… when we do get inside…”
“When?” Kim asks.
“That’s right, when we get inside, we’ll need to be ready to take it over. By force if necessary.”
Again, I am amazed at how clearly Kenji can think in these situations. He is one step ahead, two steps ahead. He is already thinking long term. He is already thinking about the lengths we will need to go to, the things we will need to do to ensure our survival.
“But right now, we need to re-group,” he continues, forcing us to focus on the problem at hand. “And we need to get the hell out of this town.”
“How do we do that?” Maria asks. “There’s so many of them. And Marko is still out there somewhere.”
“We need a getaway vehicle,” Jack says. “Maybe the fire truck? Or maybe something smaller?”
“That won’t work,” I argue. “They’ve got enough vehicles to chase us down and surround us, remember? We barely made it out of the town center before. They almost had us pinned down.”
“So what do you suggest?” Maria asks. “How are we supposed to get away? Should we sneak out on foot?”
“Hell no,” Jack says. “No more walking. I’m done with walking.”
“Like we said earlier, we cripple them,” I say. “We make it impossible for them to chase us. Or at the very least, we make it very expensive for them to chase us.”
“The fuel tanker?” Kim asks. “You really want to go after their fuel tanker?”
“We need to take out the fuel tanker. We need to level the playing field.”
We need to make them think twice about chasing us. Make them think twice about messing with us.
“That could work,” Clark says. “He won’t have budgeted for that kind of loss.”
There is excitement and eagerness in Clark’s voice now. Despite his injuries, he sounds and looks like he’s in a positive mood. Maybe the thought of getting away from Xavier has brought some life back into his wounded body. Or maybe he’s excited because he knows trying to blow up the fuel tanker is a suicide mission, and we’ll all die doing it and he’ll be rewarded.
Damn. I could go insane thinking about this.
Trust is a dangerous thing. A deadly thing.
“How far away is this nuclear plant?” Kim asks. “How far away is Xavier’s base?”
“It’s about a hundred kilometers away,” Clark answers. “Give or take. About an hour’s drive.”
“So if we take out the fuel tanker,” Kim continues, thinking out loud. “This will limit how far they can pursue us?”
“Correct,” Clark says. “They might not give chase at all. No one wants to get stranded in the middle of the desert.”
“OK, so how are we going to blow up their fuel tanker?” I ask. “We don’t even know where it is.”
“I know where it’ll be,” Clark says. “It’ll be right where Xavier is. Right in the middle of town.”
Chapter 25
We’re sitting in silence in the dark living room of this pretty big, pretty nice house. We’re sitting in a kind of semi-circle, watching the road and listening for any signs of danger.
“If we want to do this right, we need to plan it out,” Kenji says. “We need to think of every little detail. And we need a back up plan and an exit strategy for when things go bad.”
He doesn’t say if things go bad. He says when things go bad. Because they always do. And being prepared for this inevitability could mean the difference between life and death.
“We’ve got the fire truck,” Kim says. “That’s a good start. It’s solid. It’s built like a tank. It’s reliable. Maybe we should check these houses for other cars. Take the fuel at least. Or as much as we can carry.”
“I actually haven’t seen any cars out here,” I say.
“Neither have I,” Maria adds. “I wonder if everyone with a car drove it into town to be used as part of the barricade. Maybe that’s why there are so many cars in town.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Kenji says.
“Too bad they didn’t actually get to use all the cars,” she continues. “They could’ve really reinforced it. Might’ve saved them. Or at the very least, it might’ve held the infected out for a bit longer.”
“Or the Desert King could’ve opened up the gates,” Kim says. “Or whoever was in charge in the beginning. That would’ve saved a whole lot of people.”
“And if the virus got inside, it might’ve condemned everyone to death,” Sarah points out. “Isolation. Quarantine. A real quarantine. It’s the only reason the people behind the walls are alive.”
That was the problem with a lethal virus, especially this virus. The very act of setting up a quarantine to protect people against a biological weapon of mass destruction, one that moves as fast as the Oz virus moves, would almost be impossible. Then once you’ve achieved this miracle, you’d need to make sure the people inside the quarantine were safe and secure. And then everyone inside
those walls would’ve been force to watch people outside the quarantine die the most horrible death imaginable. Again, this would be impossibly hard for the survivors, for the lucky few. It would force people to defy their nature. It would force people to turn their backs and close their hearts.
I am sure this happened all over. I am sure it happened again and again. And I am sure it hurt good people, caring people. I am sure it helped turn some of them into cold and heartless killers.
“Wait, back to the cars in town,” I say, forcing my mind back to our assault on the fuel tanker. “If the people here, if everyone drove their cars into the town center to be used in the barricades, then maybe all those cars still have their keys in the ignition, or close by.”
“Maybe hidden up in the sun visor,” Jack says. “That’s how they do it in the movies.”
I actually laugh a little when Jack says this because Jack always says this. And even though the world has ended I’m pretty sure he will continue to say this forever and ever.
“Do you think they would actually do that?” Maria asks. “Just leave their keys in the car?”
“Yeah. Why not? It makes sense. Each car would need its key so the car can be moved into position at a moment’s notice.”
“Wonder why no one has taken any of them for a joy ride,” I say.
“Because up until yesterday the town had been overrun with a couple of thousand infected people.”
“Good point. Probably not worth the risk of a joy ride.”
And now that I think about it, I realize that trying to steal Marko’s work truck was a waste of time. We could’ve had our pick of any of the parked cars in town. Although, if Xavier’s people are watching the roads, like Clark says they are, we would’ve driven straight into trouble. So I don’t know. Maybe not knowing about the keys was a blessing in disguise. A weird, terrible blessing in disguise.
Kenji thinks it over. “My guess is, if Xavier and his people figure this out, they’ll definitely start taking the cars back to their place. And this might make it harder to get away clean.”
“Why?” I ask.
“More vehicles to give chase. More fuel.”
“They’d still run the risk of getting stranded out in the middle of nowhere,” Clark says. “If we take out the fuel tanker, they’ll be more concerned about that than chasing us.”
It was becoming more and more obvious to us that if we take out the fuel tanker, we will severely cripple their ability to move, to chase and hunt. And most importantly, if we do this properly, we will get the attention off of us, if only for a moment. But this moment, it could allow us to escape from this town with our lives, this moment, this reward meant it was worth the risk.
“We should do this now,” Kenji says. “Tonight. Under the cover of darkness.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait?” Maria asks. “Rest up for a day or two?”
“We don’t have a day or two to spare. If we wait, we let them dig in, we let them get settled. Waiting will give them time to set up patrols and perimeters and sentries. Waiting will give them time to back us into a corner. We need to do this now. While we’ve still got them worried, while we’ve still got them on the back foot.”
“And besides, the people behind the walls only gave us a day to get out of town,” I remind her. “Less than a day. One night. If we wait any longer, we’ll be fighting a war on two fronts.”
“Three fronts, if you include the infected,” Jack says.
“Four, if you include Marko,” Maria says.
Damn. We really have stumbled into a warzone.
“We rarely come into any town in large numbers like this,” Clark explains. “Especially this town. Kingswood has been off limits. But most towns, we usually sneak in, grab a few things, get out before the infected notice us, before they get a chance to surround us. But tonight, as soon as we realized the infected were gone, Xavier ordered everyone in. And they won’t leave until they’ve picked this place clean. My guess is, come day light, they’ll move away from the walls. Maybe they’ll move all the way out into the desert. But they’ll stay hidden. No need to risk getting taken out by a sniper.”
“Once they move in for the long haul,” Kenji says. “Which by the sounds of it, will be as soon as the sun comes up, we lose our advantage. We need to do this tonight.”
“So what do we do?” Maria asks. “And how do we blow up a fuel tanker?”
“Clark will lead the way. He’ll show us where it is. Once we have eyes on the tanker, we can plan our next move.”
Kim shakes her head because she doesn’t agree with letting Clark lead us on this mission, but she holds her tongue.
“And let’s assume we pull off this miracle,” Jack says. “How are we making our getaway?”
“I think we’ve got two options at this point,” Kenji answers. “We come back here and take the fire truck. Or we see if any of those cars in town are good to go.”
I take a deep breath. “This all seems very fast. I feel like we’re rushing into this.”
“Trust me,” Clark says. “You’re doing the right thing. You don’t want to fall into the hands of Xavier. Not after what you’ve done…”
“What we’ve done?” Kim says, unable to hold her tongue any longer. “We defended ourselves. We haven’t done anything wrong. And trust? We don’t trust you yet. Not by a long shot.”
“I don’t blame you,” Clark says calmly. “And I don’t expect you to trust me. I’m just telling you guys that you’re doing the right thing. We all need to get the hell out of this town and away from Xavier if we want to live.”
“Thanks for clearing that up. And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, but just so we’re clear, if you’re leading us into a trap, you die first.”
“Of course.”
“And don’t act like we’re in this together,” she continues. “Because if we get caught, we’re dead. If you get caught, you can just say you were being held prisoner. So don’t act like we’re all buddies. And don’t act like we’re all going to share the same fate. Because we’re not.”
“I’m just as dead if I get caught,” Clark says, his head lowered. “He’ll kill me for failing. He’ll kill me for being weak. Execute me in public. Make an example out of me. I am, I really am in just as much trouble as you guys are.”
Would Xavier really execute one of his best men for getting captured? It’s impossible to know at this point. But if that’s true, then it just goes to show how violent this man is. And how important it is that we don’t get caught.
“OK everyone, time to focus,” Kenji says, bringing us back together. “Time to concentrate. We’re heading back out into danger, back into enemy territory. We all need to be switched on. And we need to be ready for anything.”
Kenji is right. We need to be ready for anything. Because we’re about to head straight into a very small town that is full to the brim of some not very nice people.
A ruthless killer name of Xavier and his gang of savage marauders.
Marko the Maniac.
Ivan the terrible.
And watching us all from his black walled fortification is the Desert King.
Yes, Kenji is right. We need to be ready for absolutely anything.
Chapter 26
We leave the nice house with the solid stone and brick walls and the high ceilings. I wish we could’ve stayed a night or two. I wish we could’ve slept in an actual bed, under a roof. Then again, with everything that’s happening in this small town right now, we probably wouldn’t have gotten much sleep anyway.
Before we make our way into town, Sarah suggests we check the fire truck for supplies, for protective clothing.
For fire blankets.
Axes.
Anything that we could possibly use. And even though Sarah has a freshly severed arm and is quite possibly dying, she is still able to think like a survivor. No wonder she has made it this far. No wonder she survived down in the Fortress on her own.
We move up to
the side of the fire truck. Built into the rear is a compartment that is jam packed with fire fighting essentials. Which as it turns out, are also quite handy in a zombie apocalypse. We find two axes which are better and sturdier than our home made spears. We find gloves and fire blankets and even a couple of spare uniforms. But we figured these might be a bit too bulky for what we need.
Jack grabs one of the axes and swings it around. “Yeah, I like this.”
“Be careful with that thing,” Maria says.
Kim takes the other axe and I’m starting to feel a bit better about our weapon situation. We now have a couple of spears, a couple of axes, one handgun, a magnum and a few rifles.
Kenji tells us to only use the guns as an absolute last resort. “Each rifle only contains a few bullets each. The magnum only has two. So we can’t afford to get into a fire fight with these people.”
Jack picks up what appears to be a canister of fuel. “Check this out. This is essentially a flame thrower.”
He says this with way too much excitement in his voice.
“A flame thrower?” I ask.
“Don’t be stupid,” Maria says. “Why would a fire truck have a flame thrower on board?”
“Well, it’s not actually a flame thrower,” Jack explains. “It’s not going to shoot a stream of fire fifty feet into the air or anything like that.”
“Then what the hell is it supposed to do?”
“I think it’s called a drip torch,” he answers. “You’ve got the gasoline in the tank here. And you light the wick here. The gasoline drips out of this hose thingy. And hey presto, you’ve got yourselves a controlled fire. But I guess if you’re not a trained professional, or if you’re not using this while you’ve got the whole station working together, then whatever fire you’ve started will quickly get out of control.”
This is good news for us. I’m guessing if we do start a fire we will want it to get out of control as quickly as possible.
