“SOUNDS GOOD.” Ed came back.
“LET’S DO IT.” Shelly concurred.
John kept the pace steady as they neared the large cluster of buildings. He could now see that there were indeed a large population of undead in this area. He considered their behavior for a moment and reflected on all their encounters with the monsters thus far. They seemed to stay close to the area where they were when they turned. They hadn’t seen many of the creatures wondering about in the open terrain they travelled, those areas that were void of civilization. John thought of when they travelled to Kandahar and remembered that they had run across zombies on the highway as well, but even these were grouped near abandoned vehicles, likely where they had died and turned. He previously observed that they were driven by the need to eat. He thought it was strange that they would stay put instead of going on the hunt, but perhaps it was because populated areas in southern Afghanistan were isolated by distance, or perhaps it was because they didn’t have the mental capacity to think beyond the present; he suspected that they acted on instinct alone. He wondered if there was some fiber of their original selves still intact that kept them close to home or close to where they died.
The MaxxPro was the only truck they had now with a turret. He decided that George should stay inside the vehicle though, since the MaxxPro was completely armored, and the cab was high off the ground. The cabs of the other trucks were armored as well. John figured that the weight alone, of the heavier vehicles they were using now, would easily plow over any zombies they encountered, so he decided he would just roll through and stop for nothing until they got past this area. The monsters had started to crowd the road, drawn by the moving trucks. He could see beyond the cluster of buildings where it opened into farmland again, it was about five hundred yards. John gunned it. “DON’T STOP FOR NOTHING.” He called over the radio. He ran the truck into the group of zombies. The large truck rolled right through them. Blood splattered all over the windshield. George reached up to turn on the wipers. The blades smeared the blood across the glass, making it difficult for John to see. He kept moving. The crowd of monsters grew by the second. The truck plowed through them like the prow of a ship cutting through water.
Several minutes later they were through. John watched in the side-view mirror to make sure the trucks following weren’t held up by anything and noticed that the zombies were attempting to give chase. They outpaced their slow, ambling run in no time. John decided to put a good bit of distance between themselves and the horde before he would look for an isolated farm to search for food. Marjah was sparsely populated, but huge. They would have to drive about thirteen miles just to get beyond its limits. Since they had left the populated area, the houses were now very spread out. They had gone about six miles beyond the large group of zombies when John spotted a farm that he felt was a promising place for them to stop and search. It appeared to be a dwelling inside a large perimeter fence with some other small buildings inside, but he could barely see over the fence from this distance, so he wasn’t sure. Outside of the fence were several acres of worked land. The compound was far away from any neighbors, so John thought it was an ideal location. They could leave a couple of people on the trucks to provide over watch as they searched, the guards would be able to see any threats from afar.
John pulled off the main road and headed towards the farm. It was a good distance off the main road. He approached slowly and pulled up right beside the external wall. The wall was as tall as the truck, so John and the others couldn’t peer over and see what lurked inside. He followed the fence until they came to a large blue gate. The gate was made of metal and it was slightly ajar. He stopped his truck and shut off the engine. The two trucks behind him pulled up right behind him and followed suit. The companions came together on the ground close to the barely open gate. “I think we should leave a couple on top of the trucks to watch our backs as we search the place.” John suggested. “Any volunteers?”
“I’ll stay back with Susan.” Ed said. “I’m old and she has no combat training, I think the others would be more useful inside if you get into trouble.”
“Susan, can you shoot a rifle?” Shelly asked.
“We did marksmanship training as part of our contract to come over here.” Susan told her. “I’m not the best shot in the world, but I know how.”
“She will be fine.” Ed said. “Even if she misses, her shots will let you know there is trouble. Besides, even if she can’t hit the side of a barn, I can.” He reassured them.
“Very well.” John said. “I couldn’t see over the side of the wall, so I have no idea what we are walking into. Let’s take every precaution. We’ll move as a team and clear as we go. George, can you take point?”
“Roger, no problem.” George agreed.
“Damien, trail?” John asked.
“Yup, I got your back.” Damien answered.
“Great, me and Shelly in the middle then.” John said. “Lead the way, George.”
The team lined up in a file next to the wall. George led them to the opening in the gate and peered inside. He could see a couple of lethargic zombies sitting against the wall on the far side of the compound, but they were oblivious. George held his hand up to signal the others to wait while he continued to look around inside the wall. He noticed several large blue barrels lined up against the wall next to a small building. Next to the barrels, on the ground, was a large tarpaulin with a powdery substance in a pile on top of it. There were also dozens of plastic jugs near the barrels. The scene suggested that the occupants were producing homemade explosives here. George looked behind him to John. “I’m not sure this is a farm.” He told him with a look of concern stamped on his face.
Without another word, George turned around and led the team inside. They hugged the wall and approached the largest building, completely avoiding the two zombies that were still unaware of their presence. George pushed forward, right up to the entrance of the dwelling. There was no door, only a curtain hanging over the portal. George moved the curtain aside with the barrel of his rifle and looked inside. It was dark inside, but not too dark to see, there was enough sunlight filtering in through the windows and door to allow for visibility. George was looking into a large room. He could see that there were three more doorways, leading into other rooms. He didn’t see anyone in this room, but what he did see was a flag hanging on the wall. It was the Taliban flag!
“This must be a Taliban safe house.” George whispered back to the others. “Should we still search the house?”
“We’ve come this far.” John said. “Besides, with those two zombies hanging out back in the courtyard, I doubt there is anyone alive here.”
George nodded and pushed inside. They spread out to the four corners of the room, each member of the team calling “clear” when their area was free of any threats. They repeated this process throughout the house. They didn’t find any zombies inside, but they did confirm that it was indeed some sort of base of operations for the terrorist organization. They found plenty of propaganda around the dwelling as well as weapons and ammunition. They also found several bags in one room that were full of uncut opium. The Taliban funded the majority of their operations through processing opium into heroin. In the last room in the house, they found a large, closed wooden door. “Let’s clear this last room then get out of here.” John suggested. “I don’t think we are going to find any food here. Doesn’t seem like the former occupants were dealing in produce.”
George nodded and moved towards the door. Just before he reached out to grasp the handle that would allow him to pull open the door, Damien bumped into a little table. The sound startled the group. “Sorry.” Damien whispered. George smiled, embarrassed that the sound had startled him, then turned back to the door, but then he jumped again as something thudded against the other side of the door. He waited a few seconds, looked at the others, nodded, and pulled open the door. He dropped back as soon as he opened the door and a zombie came lurching out at him. Shelly fir
ed the first shot and dropped it. George bent over panting and looked at Shelly. “Thanks,” he told her. George then looked past the fallen monster and noticed that beyond the door was a stairway that went into a basement of some kind. He started to move that way, but hesitated when he heard a clamor. Immediately following the noise, he saw what made it. His face turned pale and he turned and started pushing the others in the opposite direction, away from the door. Zombies were climbing on top of each other to get up the stairs and came pouring out of the door in pursuit of the team.
They ran through the house and out the front door. The zombies were right on their heels. As they came out, the two monsters in the yard became aware of them then, and joined in on the chase. John led the retreat and soon reached the gate where they had first come into the compound. Damien was the last of the group. A zombie that had gotten too close lurched for him from behind and hooked his back leg, causing him to fall forward. The monster crawled on top of him, unbelievably fast. “Help!” He called frantically. The other three turned and knelt into firing positions. George shot the thing in the head and it went limp on top of Damien. Damien tried frantically to free himself from the weight of thing and get away from the approaching mob.
John noticed then that they were not dealing with just a few of the creatures. There must have been a small army down in that basement, there were dozens of them pouring out of the front door of the dwelling. George shot another one that got too close to Damien as he continued to try and get back to his feet to run. John took aim at another one. It was dressed in a black burka from head to toe, the typical dress of Afghan women, but the face covering had fallen below the chin and he could tell that this zombie had been a man. He fired a shot and missed. His second shot hit it in the midsection. An explosion rocked the entire compound as the zombie went off like a bomb. John and the others were knocked to the ground. The blast had bowled the dead zombie right over Damien allowing him to move freely, but he, like the rest of them, was disoriented from the explosion. Ed and Susan were knocked right off the top of the supply truck, where they were keeping watch.
John shook his head to try and clear the ringing and looked up. He saw that his friends were moving, but then he looked for their zombie pursuers. They were no longer in pursuit, instead they were lying all over the compound in bloody pieces. The monsters had run right into the exploding zombie and had been blown to pieces right along with it. The two zombies that had been in the yard from the beginning were far enough away to avoid death by explosion, but it had rocked them to the ground as well. George and Shelly had regained their senses at that point and walked over to kill the two remaining monsters. John ran to collect Damien. “Damien, are you okay?” He yelled as he ran over. He got to him and started to pull him to his feet. Damien was covered head to toe in zombie goo.
“Are you hurt? Were you bitten?” John asked him.
Damien looked at John, but shook his head and held his arms out with his palms up. He then pointed to his ears and shook his head, “I can’t hear anything,” he said loudly, “but I think I need a shower.” He said as he looked down at his gore riddled form.
John smiled and presumed he was unhurt other than his obvious hearing loss. He pulled Damien’s arm over his shoulder and joined the others on their way out of the gate.
“What the shit was that?” Ed asked as he ran up to help John with Damien.
“We were chased by some zombies, I shot one, and it exploded.” John tried to explain.
“What the fuck?” Ed said in disbelief.
“This wasn’t a farm.” John said then. “It was some sort of Taliban hideout. We found a bunch in the basement. The only scenario I can imagine that makes sense is that the one I shot was probably bitten. The terrorist probably decided to use his misfortune to their advantage and rigged him up for a suicide attack, but it would seem he turned before they were able to execute their attack. It appears that he got his friends and they all turned together in that basement. So much for martyrdom I guess. That’s my best guess anyway.” John finished with a smirk on his face.
They all laughed at that and shook their heads. “Should we find another spot to search?” George asked.
“No, I don’t think I can take another episode like that.” Shelly quickly responded.
“Yeah,” John agreed, “I think we need to get the fuck out of here. Besides, Damien is deaf now, hopefully temporarily.”
They all agreed and loaded up into the trucks. A half hour later the three trucks rolled beyond Marjah and down the open road, once again moving towards their ultimate goal.
CHAPTER 22
The group pulled out of the cement factory the next morning and headed north again on the interstate. Jerry admired the work that Alex and Kyle had done with the cars when they turned back onto I-10. Angie and Sam were inside the truck with Jerry. Derek had returned to his spot in the back, using the strap again to hold him up while he stood in the bed, with his rifle at the ready. Jerry had tried to convince him to ride in the SUV with the others, thinking it would be more comfortable, and he was still concerned about his wounded shoulder, but Derek insisted he was fine and wanted to be somewhere he could react quickly to any situation. The rest of the group were riding in the SUV, where there was plenty of room.
They were only on the road for about fifteen minutes when Jerry brought them to a stop in the middle of the road, right before a green sign off to the right. The sign indicated that they were only nine miles from Las Cruces, New Mexico, and seven miles from the I-25 Junction. He stepped out of the truck and gestured to Kyle, who was driving the SUV behind them, to come up to his truck. Alex and Kyle got out and walked to the rear of Jerry’s truck. Angie stepped out and joined them as well. Karen and Grace stayed in the SUV.
“What’s going on?” Alex asked. “Why did we stop?”
“Well,” Jerry began, “we have to make a decision. Two decisions, actually. First, we have a fork in the road about seven miles ahead.” He said as he pointed to the sign. “North or West?” He asked the group.
“North.” Derek said from his perch above them. “If we don’t find any answers or a safe place to wait this out, we should keep heading towards Fort Carson, in Colorado.”
“That’s probably smart.” Jerry said. “Anyone have any problem with heading north?” He asked the rest of them. No one said anything. “Ok, with that decided, we need to talk about Las Cruces. It’s not New York City, or even Dallas, Texas, but it is a pretty good size. Do we risk it and look for signs of survivors or do we blow through it by staying on the interstate?”
“I bet the interstate is going to be pretty jammed up once we get inside the city.” Alex said. “If it is anything like the other cities we have seen so far, everyone tried to evacuate at once and ended up stuck on the interstate. It is probably littered with cars, and a fair share of zombies too.” He told them. “I’m not suggesting that we take a different route, just pointing out that it will be slow getting through the city. The way I see it, that’s a good thing. We will have plenty of opportunity to observe the city proper from the interstate. Get an idea of how bad it really is. I say we go that route, then make a decision once we get a better picture.”
“Alright, let’s load up and get to it.” Jerry told the others.
Twenty minutes later they were taking the I-25 Junction to continue north. They were already on the outskirts of Las Cruces. As they suspected, the interstate was already heavy with obstacles in the form of abandoned cars. There were a few zombies here and there walking among the cars as well. Off the right side of the interstate they could see several neighborhoods, it appeared to be the suburbs. From where they were, they could see monsters roaming the streets, but no sign of any living people. They continued forward at a slow pace. It was getting more difficult to get through all the cars. They made it a couple of miles and passed an exit before Jerry had to stop. The interstate continued north under an overpass, but he could see from where they were that it would become im
passible soon. The cars were bumper to bumper ahead in every lane, including the shoulders. Jerry looked up and saw a big white sheet hanging from the side of the overpass with red markings on it. It was flapping in the wind, so it took him a minute to make it out.
After several flaps of the sheet, he was able to decipher the message that was painted on it in red. It looked like someone used a paint brush to write the message. The message read ‘LAS CRUCES BELONGS TO THE DEAD NOW! TURN BACK NOW!’.
“Well shit.” Jerry cursed. He pointed to the sign from his window so that their friends in the SUV could read it as he maneuvered the truck around so he could head back to the exit. He got turned around after a few minutes and rolled over a zombie that was right next to the SUV. He pulled up right next to Kyle’s window and rolled his own window down.
“Looks like this is as much of Las Cruces as we are going to see.” He said. “I’m going to take us back to that exit we passed and see if we can go around the city and get back on the interstate further north.”
Kyle and Alex nodded, and Kyle quickly rolled his window back up. Jerry did the same and moved forward to give the SUV room to turn around. He stopped after about twenty feet and watched in the side view mirror to make sure they were able to turn around ok. After the SUV was behind him, he headed towards the exit they passed, it was only another fifty feet or so. Once he reached the exit, he made a wide turn to the left to get onto the exit road. The two vehicles headed up the exit to an intersection. There were more zombies walking around aimlessly. Jerry took note of one zombie, because it stood out from the rest. It was dragging something. He was shocked when he realized what he was looking at. It was the mangled corpse of a dog. The zombie had a leash attached to its belt loop at one end and securely fastened to the dog’s collar on the other. The dog had been feasted upon. The midsection had been completely devoured. He could see the dog’s spine was still intact, it led down to the hind legs which were being dragged across the street as the zombie shuffled toward their truck. Jerry figured that in life, the man was one of the homeless people that were often found near exits, seeking handouts from passing cars.
A World Apart (Part 1): 8,000 Miles Page 14
