Kristie’s hand felt brick again. Her heart raced. After this little section of wall, she’d touch glass. And outside that glass, she imagined she’d see her nieces standing there.
“Aunt Kree.”
She could hear it already, the tapping of little fingers. Kristie held her breath and increased her speed. The glass felt cold and smooth.
“Aunt Kree, please just let us in,” Ruby pleaded cutely.
Kristie continued until she ran out of glass. From here it was five steps, and then the door to the drill floor. She’d been so rushed to get out of the foyer that on the fifth step she ran into the door. Silently, she cursed herself. The keys clanged as she felt for the right one, and the sound of it entering the lock echoed loudly. Quickly, she opened the door, then closed it gently and locked it behind her.
Kristie turned on her tiny light, revealing the massive drill floor. On the south wall hung a large American flag, and next to it the Colorado state flag. Lower on the walls were enlistment posters and a corkboard with postings about the Family Readiness Group. Next to the cork board, the company Christmas tree still stood, with all of its ornaments and fake presents underneath.
Staff Sergeant Simons was going to be Santa for the company Christmas party. He was the only one who didn’t need the padding to make it convincing. Kristie had volunteered to be one of the elves. She’d been excited for Ruby and Tessa to come, but once the infection began to spread, her sister and nieces had been caught in the quarantine of Denver, and she knew they wouldn’t make it.
“Aunt Kree,” Ruby whispered spookily.
Kristie didn’t want to look up. The windows on the drill floor were high above, and she knew Ruby would be looking down at her. Kristie walked toward the vault. Other than the latrines and closets, it was the only room without windows. Opposite the vault was the kitchen, where Kristie had enough MREs to last not only the rest of the year, but well into the next four or five. She opened the metal door to the supply room.
“I just want to play…” she heard, as she closed the door.
Kristie moved past the lockers and cages of equipment. It was mostly TA-50, standard issue gear. Another cage contained uniforms. Kristie wore one set of clothes until they were absolutely disgusting, then tossed it and got a new set. She wore a tan shirt that barely hid her perky breasts and black PT shorts with the Army logo at the bottom that made her long slender legs look pale.
She approached the large vault door that, since the power had died, had no lock. She recalled the moment a month prior, when the power grid finally cut out. Kristie had learned that even without human interaction, a modern power grid could supply electricity for up to six months before dying.
She had spent the entire day crying, thinking about her sister and her kids being out there, and wondering how she was going to make it alone. As she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the lights went out. She froze in fear, and wondered if the undead had gotten into the armory with her. That’s when the alarm began blaring, and the emergency floodlights came on. She jumped out of bed, startled.
“What the hell!” she’d yelled.
At first she tried to ignore it, and just sat in the office. Finally, the sound had driven her to distraction, and she jumped up to investigate. Cautiously, she crept through the office, the floodlights barely lighting up the space. She then worked her way into the hallway, where the lighting was even worse. She strained her ears, listening for any sign of the undead, but the alarm prevented the possibility. As she moved past the front entrance, she saw that the undead were being drawn by the alarm, as it echoed throughout the entire armory. Suddenly, the floodlights turned off, and the regular lights came back online. She could hear a rumble within the building, and followed the sound until she’d traced it to a door she’d never opened. Inside, the hum was much louder. To her great surprise there were backup generators. Kristie investigated further, and found the gauge that indicated that they would be able to sustain the building for a few hours. She wondered what would happen after that.
Kristie went back to bed, and three and a half hours later, the power cut out, and the alarms went off again. The only thing she could do was sit tight. She knew there would be many more infected drawn to the armory. The alarm blared again until the generators came back online forty-five minutes later. It cycled on again after just a couple of hours. Kristie sat curled up in her room, helpless. The constant pulse of the alarm pushed her to the brink. Any sleep she got was full of nightmares, interrupted by the security alarms. This lasted for three and a half days, until everything finally shut down, and the generators finally cut out permanently.
Even though it had happened more than three weeks previously, the undead still wandered about outside the building. Kristie opened the vault door and entered the area where she had set up a cot between the gun racks. She had four hundred and twelve M16 A2s, ninety-three M249 SAWs, and three .50cal machine guns at her disposal.
All those weapons and not a single round of ammunition. Their unit hadn’t been deemed a priority when the infection began to spread, and as a result available ammunition was given to combat units, or units involved in the quarantine of large cities.
At the very back of the vault were sets of shelves. Along the top were night vision goggles, and at the bottom they were lined with pro-masks. A gas mask wasn’t going to help her with a blood borne pathogen.
She couldn’t hear anything in the vault, no sound of tapping, or her niece beckoning to let her in. Kristie flopped back onto the green cot and kicked off her combat boots, wiggling her bare toes. She shut off the light and enjoyed the darkness for awhile. It was nice to have a moment of quiet.
Slowly, Kristie began to nod off.
“Did I lock the door?” she asked herself.
She always locked the doors. Anytime she went through one, she made sure to secure it behind her, but she struggled to recall if she’d locked the supply room door.
“Or the drill floor door?”
She knew she was more than likely being paranoid, but suddenly, something pulled on her feet. She screamed as she fumbled with her tiny flashlight. Its bright LED light revealed an infected devouring her legs. Her blood looked bright red in its light. One of her toes fell out of the mouth of the gruesome creature, and she tried to kick but it was no use. She couldn’t move.
Kristie lurched forward and flipped on her flashlight. Her toes were right where she’d left them, and the vault door was closed.
“Sleep is for the weak anyway,” she said to herself.
She checked her watch. 0421. Her stomach growled at her. She tried to convince herself she wasn’t hungry, but eventually her body won out over her brain. Kristie slipped on her boots and exited the vault. She discovered that her paranoia wasn’t completely unwarranted. She’d left the metal supply room door unlocked.
“Damn it,” she whispered.
It was still pitch black on the drill floor. The sun would be coming up soon, which meant she would have to stay away from the main entrance. Hurriedly, she locked the supply room door and then ran to the kitchen doors, which she never bothered locking. Without looking, she grabbed herself a couple of MREs to sustain her for the day. The keys rattled against the door as she unlocked the drill floor door and walked into the main entryway. As she locked the door behind her, she dropped one of her meals.
“Fuck,” she said to herself.
Kristie finished locking the door and felt around the floor for her lost MRE. Where had it gone? She couldn’t have kicked it, but the dusty tile floor was empty. Kristie knew she’d be mad at herself if she didn’t recover it before heading up to the headquarters area for the day.
“Just real quick,” she said, as she prepared to turn on her flashlight.
Something in the window caught her eye. It was a pair of headlights. Then another. And another. It was a whole convoy. Figures in the dark broke up her view. The undead were out there, but thankfully none of them were up against the glass.
Kr
istie couldn’t believe it. There were people driving in town. Even better, they were stopping.
39.
A Fresh Start
Ben brought the convoy to a halt in a small mountain village, eighty miles west of Denver. The high elevation and cooler temperatures would hopefully affect the undead, and perhaps lessen the threat. The vehicles formed a circular perimeter around the parking lot of the Mountain City Cooperative. Under the joint leadership of Ben, Doc, Marcus, and Jim, they’d traveled all over the countryside, bouncing back and forth between smaller, unincorporated towns. Along the way they’d managed to pick up more survivors, adrift and looking for a place in the new world.
Jim looked around from inside the RV. It was dark, but he could see some undead wandering around. The town was small, the smallest they’d come across all day.
“Think we can clear it out?” asked Ben.
Jim pondered a moment, and then looked at Doc, who was also lost in thought.
“Yeah, it looks manageable,” Doc said.
Jim agreed. “Just deal with the Zs in the immediate area. Let them come to you, and don’t leave the light,” ordered Ben over the CB radio.
Members of the convoy exited their vehicles armed with blunt weapons; a few of them carried handguns. After they’d disembarked, they formed a circle and waited for the undead to walk into the headlights. A woman with a hunting rifle was the first to engage the flesh-eating creatures. There was a pause after the ghoul hit the ground. Smoke rolled off the barrel of the rifle.
The infected infesting the sleepy little town now focused all their attention on the parking lot of the Co-op. Moans pierced the humid mountain air, as if declaring war on the living that had invaded the town. They knew there was already a member of the living hiding somewhere within their territory, her smell faint, but this was fresh meat.
Another member of the group fired a weapon at the approaching mob. Then it was all-out war. After the gunshots had thinned the numbers, the group finished off what was left with baseball bats and lead pipes. Shadows danced across the gravel lot, as chunks of skull and brain matter flew. The battle was one sided, with the living taking no casualties. Soon the ground was covered with the results of the battle. Cautiously, the group waited for more of the ghouls to creep out of the darkness. The chirping of crickets began to fill the silence.
“Hey!” a woman’s voice cried out, “I’m alive! I’m over here!”
“Hold your fire!” Jim shouted to his people.
A young woman appeared out of the darkness. Her pale skin gave her away immediately.
“Thank God,” she said as she got closer.
She had her arms raised up to show she didn’t have a weapon.
“Just stop right there please,” Doc told her, when she got within fifteen feet.
“Okay?” Kristie replied sounding confused.
“I’m sorry to be so abrupt,” informed Doc.
Everyone they accepted into the group had to be examined for infection; nothing invasive, just a quick check for bites.
“We have a certain protocol. I’m sure you understand.”
Doc could see the word ‘Army’ reflecting off the young woman’s PT shorts.
“How many of you are there?” asked Doc.
“I’m…I’m the only one left,” Kristie answered.
Doc looked around at his people.
“We will have someone check you for bites,” explained Doc.
Kristie was a little offended but wasn’t sure what else to say. Doc turned to the group and whispered something. A woman stepped forward. He then looked back at Kristie.
“This is Lauren. She’ll take you into one of the RVs and examine you,” he started. “She’ll need to see every inch of your body.”
Kristie looked at the woman. Lauren wore a grey tank top, and flecks of blood stained it. The color of her shorts couldn’t be determined in the dark. On her hip was a holster and handgun, and in her hands she held a metal baseball bat. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail; and she was still out of breath from the fight.
“This way,” she said, motioning Kristie to follow.
The crowd parted, and Kristie hesitated for a moment before following. Lauren escorted her to an old tan and white RV, where she opened the door. It was Doc’s RV.
“It’s okay,” encouraged Lauren, as she sat down her baseball bat.
Lauren reached behind Kristie and closed the door. She drew the shades down on the windows, blocking the view from the outside.
“Here’s the awkward part,” Lauren informed her, in a joking tone.
Kristie knew what she was being asked to do and began to remove her clothing. Having been an athlete in high school, and being a soldier in the army, Kristie wasn’t uncomfortable being naked in the presence of members of her own sex. Now completely exposed, she lifted her hair off of her neck and back so that Lauren could examine her.
“How long have you been alone?” Lauren asked, as she checked over Kristie’s pale flesh.
“Um…I kind of lost count,” she confessed. “Fifteen, maybe sixteen weeks.”
Lauren crouched down to look at her legs more closely, “When was the last time you were outside?”
She couldn’t believe Kristie hadn’t come across other survivors while foraging.
“It’s been longer than that since I’ve been outside,” Kristie added. “I have plenty of food inside. I never leave.”
“Wow. I’d get cabin fever,” Lauren laughed.
“That’s been known to happen,” Kristie informed her.
“Turn,” Lauren commanded.
Kristie faced Lauren. Lauren looked at her face for bites or scratches.
“The kids would freak out,” Lauren continued the conversation.
“You have kids?” Kristie asked.
Lauren smiled, “Yeah, a girl. I’ve also recently adopted a boy.”
“Adopted?”
“His mother…she died. We were friends,” said Lauren.
“Oh,” Kristie said gravely.
“Do you have any…never mind,” Lauren wished she hadn’t tried to make small talk now.
“No. I had two nieces,” Kristie offered, trying to ease the awkwardness.
“I’m sorry,” apologized Lauren.
“It’s…it’s okay,” Kristie assured her.
“No, I shouldn’t have…” she continued.
“No, really,” Kristie forced a smile.
Lauren didn’t know what to say next.
“Is your husband good with the adopted boy?” Kristie asked.
“They haven’t met,” she informed her.
Now Kristie felt bad.
“He’s in Iraq right now,” said Lauren.
Kristie noticed her word choice. ‘He’s in Iraq right now’. She wondered if Lauren knew that for a fact, or if she was just putting on a brave face.
“He’s in the army too,” she added, “Okay. I’ll let Doc know that you’re good. Go ahead and get dressed, and come out when you’re ready.”
With that, Lauren quickly moved past her and exited the RV. Kristie waited a second, and then began putting her clothes on. She didn’t bother tying her boots, just stuffed the laces down inside them. Her heart was racing; she wasn’t alone anymore.
40.
Mountain City
“Lauren?” Callum’s little voice whispered.
“What is it, sweetie?” she asked, without opening her eyes.
“I have to go potty,” he whispered.
“Okay,” replied Lauren. “Give me a second,” she added, as she stretched and yawned and opened her eyes.
Callum stood in the doorway of the bedroom, clutching his groin. He danced back and forth slowly. Ben recommended that they not use the RV’s bathroom, to conserve the chemicals used to break down the waste. He promised to track down more and clean it out.
“Let’s go outside,” she said, holding out her hand to him.
Still clutching his privates with one hand, he g
rabbed her hand with the other. They stepped out into the humid morning air, where the eastern sky was turning blue as the sun crested the horizon. Men and women armed with flashlights and blunt weapons circled the perimeter of the Mountain City Cooperative. Ben told her that this was a grain facility. After the harvest, corn and soy beans were stored in the giant silos. The main office sat in the middle of the lot, and to the east was a maintenance shop. At the base of the silos and to the west, was a large dump shed that housed the augers and grain legs. To the north was the mill where some of the grain was processed into feed for livestock. Beyond that was a large empty field. To the south was the National Guard Armory and its massive motor pool of vehicles. If you got onto the road heading south and turned east, you’d end up in town.
For now, everyone stayed at the co-op, where a wall was being constructed. The plan was to eventually clear out the town, expand the wall, and start moving people into the homes there.
“This way,” she said, as she led the boy over to the maintenance shop.
It was the only structure with a functioning bathroom. One of the men in their group had been a plumber and was able to rig it so it would work. The heavy metal door opened quietly, but groaned as it closed. A flashlight sat on the floor next to the entrance, so people could find their way to the restroom. Lauren reached down with her free hand and flicked the switch on. The LED beam brightly lit their path. Tool benches and containers of oil lined the walls. She navigated the way around grease spills on the floor, and approached a wooden door where someone had written the word ‘Shitter’ in marker.
The door opened to a room smaller than a closet. A sink, mirror, and toilet all managed to occupy the cramped space. On the wall, someone had made a crude drawing of a naked woman with unrealistically large breasts. The floors were grimy and covered in a layer of oil, as were the sink and toilet. The bathroom was disgusting.
Z Plan (Book 2): Red Tides Page 25
