by Lund, Dave
A small farm-to-market road would get him to the loop, which would connect with Texas 7 and take him to Centerville. From there, the plan was to follow Texas 7 to Gatesville and continue on the small highways to Nevada. The interstate was a mess when he first made his way to the hunting-cabin-turned-prepper bugout location and from all he had learned from the radio transmissions, he had no reason to believe it was better. There were, though, reports of massive hordes of reanimated dead following the interstates, pushing all that stood in their way clear. Reports all around the country said the same thing: “When the horde comes through, you better hope you’re in a strong concrete-reinforced building or you’re doomed.”
It all seemed a little farfetched to Ken but to be frank, just six months ago the thought of the complete collapse of civilization was expected; it was the dead refusing to stay dead that was the problem. He was confident that if it hadn’t been for the dead, this problem of an EMP attack wouldn’t have been that big of a deal.
Mostly out of habit, Ken climbed out of the truck and closed the gate he had just opened and driven the truck through.FM 2065 appeared mostly clear. It was just far enough away from the big roads that only a handful of dead seemed to venture down this far. April in central Texas wasn’t usually a cold affair and the morning sun was already baking the interior of the old truck. Ken cranked the windows down and tried to enjoy the warm spring morning. In a few short weeks, the daily temperatures would be in the 90s and the humidity would be nearly unbearable. Air-conditioning made this part of Texas bearable in the summer, and without it, if people weren’t already dead, Ken believed the heat would kill some people, especially the elderly or the infirm. That was all part of his group’s prepping discussion, but now Ken was fleeing his beloved country of Texas to drive to Nevada just in time for the summer. According to the radio traffic, the survivors were living in luxury underground, with running hot and cold water, hot meals, and climate control, so it was worth the try. Besides, as much fun as living in solitude sounds when you don’t, some friends or even just other living people being near would be a huge improvement. Since the dawn of man, civilizations grew of the need for companionship.
SSC
Andrew followed Amanda as they continued to search the impressively large facility. Amanda’s old bunk remained untouched; there was no sign that another person had lived below ground with her for all that time. Clint’s presence was now less than a ghost. The control room was empty, although the computers were still on, the screens burst to life, and they showed a log-on screen when Andrew moved a mouse.
“Do you have a login?”
“I do, but I’m not sure what good it would do us. Before I left, all the communication with the outside had been lost. We didn’t have access to any satellite imagery, no GPS data, and no communications at all. At one time, we had terminal access and could message back and forth with Bill in Groom Lake, but that quit working too.”
“Do you know why?”
“Clint said the Chinese had hacked it or were jamming the signal, but he also said he was trying to protect me by keeping us hidden.”
“And you believe him?”
“I did. But, if it wasn’t true, why can’t anyone else use the SATCOM radio?”
“What if Clint switched it off?”
Amanda shook her head, anger burning in her chest. Andrew hit a nerve and it wasn’t his fault; it was her fault for trusting Clint in the first place. She could still be in Little Rock with her dogs. Even as the thought flashed through her mind, she knew it was wrong. She was a completely different person when she answered the knock at her door the day after Christmas. Now she was tough. She was a warrior and could take care of herself in the apocalyptic wasteland that her country had quickly become. No, if she had stayed in Little Rock, she would be dead.
“You’re right, Andrew, he could have, but I don’t know how to turn it all back on, so for now, we focus on what we can do instead of what we can’t. Follow me, I have an idea, but first we need to check the tunnels.”
Groom Lake
The FJ rattled and rocked in the wind like a sailboat as they followed the narrow ribbon of asphalt around the mountains. What began as driving through a flowing blanket of dirt and sand was beginning to get better. The wind still howled, but luckily the dirt and dust in the air was thinning. Still, visibility was limited as Jessie drove at what felt to be a walking pace.
“Have you been over here before?”
Jessie shook her head, her eyes still scanning what she could see of the roadway ahead of them. “No, not this far.”
“Any idea what’s over here?”
“I don’t even know what all is over where we were. Sarah, Erin, Jason, and I spent some time clearing buildings over in the main area by the dorms and hangars, but even then we had a hard time figuring out what secret things went on in those buildings.”
They drove slowly not because they were required to, but only because they didn’t want to accidentally run over something that would disable their ride. The smattering of vehicles parked in the hangar that other survivors had brought was still there, but many of them were pretty rough. Vehicles that were old enough to not be affected by the EMP attack, tough enough to still be running and driven through the hellish landscape of the new modern America ruled by the dead, sat waiting for the next adventure, but the FJ was the best built of the bunch. Their friends were killed in Big Bend, but their purpose-built prepper bugout vehicle lived on.
Jessie stopped a few hundred yards shy of some buildings that appeared to flank an access gate, the buildings probably guard shacks of some sort. Silently, Jessie leaned over and kissed Bexar before pulling her goggles down over her eyes and her shemagh up over her face. Bexar did the same before they climbed out of the relative comfort of the FJ and into the wind. Luckily, the wind was at their backs, the peppering sting of the blowing sand slightly more bearable with it blowing against their backs instead of their faces. Bexar glanced at Jessie and smiled, not that she could see his face. They walked slowly on opposite sides of the blacktop, their rifles tucked neatly into the SUL position.
No cover was afforded them on the approach; all Bexar and Jessie could do was to have their rifles ready while being ready to immediately hit the dirt if ambushed. As they approached, a lone Zed shambled out from behind the larger metal building on their right. The reanimated corpse rocked unsteadily against a strong gust of wind, indifferent to the sand blasting what remained of its face. Jessie took aim and before the trigger could be pressed all the way to the rear, the Zed stumbled from the wind and fell backward as if it was some clumsy cartoon character. It slowly rolled over and with its butt in the air began to stand up like a disorientated toddler. Just as it began to stand all the way up, another gust of wind ripped through the air and knocked the Zed to the ground where it lay motionless for a moment as if it felt defeated. Bexar began laughing too hard to properly aim. Jessie glanced at Bexar, took a breath, and waited a moment for the corpse’s head to get clear for a shot.
With a single shot muffled by the wind, blackened brain matter and bone spray across the pavement as the Zed fell to the ground for the last time. Jessie looked at Bexar who was still laughing and flipped him off. The tension gone with the threat, they walked the short distance to the buildings. Bexar tried a door of the building on his side of the road and found it unlocked. He looked at Jessie and pointed at his door; she gave him a thumbs up and waited. Bexar threw open the door and banged against the metal exterior of the building. Nothing appeared out of the darkness, and neither of them could see any movement in the shadows either.
Bexar switched on his rifle light and quickly entered the dark building more smoothly and more confidently than Jessie remembered seeing from Bexar during their rifle training days back in their past lives. Less than a minute later, Bexar reemerged and gave a thumbs up. Jessie tried the door to the building on her side, repeating the pro
cess Bexar had just completed. Less than five minutes later, they both sat in the FJ wiping dirt and sand off their faces.
“I didn’t see any signs that they had been in there.”
Jessie nodded. This whole expedition was a long shot, but she felt awful and had to try. Coming up empty with their first stop, they drove on as the road turned south. Slowly creeping behind the mountains, the wind seemed to be slightly better; at least the FJ didn’t rock as badly even if it wasn’t. She pulled to a stop at a split in the road. Unlike the driveways that split off the main road before, this junction looked significant. The paved road curved toward the right, an unpaved road continued straight.
“What do you think, Jessie?”
Slowly, Jessie moved her head left to right, scanning the desert features and the roadway. “From what I gathered from that pilot guy, the plane crash is probably down this dirt road.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I have no idea. But my gut feeling is that we should try the dirt road first.”
Bexar shrugged with a half-smile; it didn’t matter to him. It was nice exploring and being away from the Groom Lake facility for a while. He couldn’t figure out why but the place gave him the creeps. They could go down this dirt road today and tomorrow they could try the paved road. He didn’t think that they would find what Jessie was looking for, but he didn’t care.
Jessie drove forward off of the pavement and onto the dirt road. Even if the wind wasn’t that much better, the visibility was significantly better now they were on the backside of the mountains. Bexar slid over and put his arm around his bride before gently rubbing her growing baby bump with a smile.
CHAPTER 8
April 11, Year 1
Nevada
“What the actual fuck is that?”
Jason pointed to a churning turmoil of darkness in the sky that billowed like smoke.
“I don’t know, baby. I don’t think it is a fire, it doesn’t look like smoke, and it sure as shit doesn’t look like a dust storm.”
Erin press checked her M4. She knew there was a round in the chamber, there was always a round in the chamber, but the churning cloud on the horizon gave her pause and she wasn’t sure why.
“Whatever it is, Erin, it can’t be good. Think we should turn around?”
“No, we have Zeds to the back of us.”
“Well, we can’t really turn away. Um, well, we could stop and wait to see.”
“I want to get closer. If we can’t figure it out by the time we’re within about a half-mile, then we stop, get to the high ground, and scope it out.”
Jason nodded. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only plan they had. Plan B didn’t exist yet. He patted Erin’s thigh which earned him a soft smile from the woman he loved.
“No matter what may come, we’ll win or lose together.”
“Forever?”
Erin kissed Jason on the cheek as an answer.
They rode in silence for the next 30 minutes, only the droning sound of the Suburban’s old V8 rattling down the desert highway. Of the handful of vehicles they saw during the drive, they were all severely damaged, pushed off the roadway, and crumpled like tin cans. Jason took a deep breath to calm his nerves every time they passed another demolished car or truck. Even the lone semi-truck they saw was crumpled and tossed into the desert like a child’s toy. Wind whistled through the broken windows of their SUV as they drove steadily at around 45 mph.
The churning dark mass seemed to grow in size as they neared. Jason stopped in the middle of the road and pointed at the mountains toward the north.
“I think we’re close enough. Want to go up there and take a look?”
Erin nodded. “We need to find a place to hide our wheels.”
“Yeah, looks like a bad neighborhood. I would hate for someone to steal our sweet whip.”
Jason delivered the joke in perfect deadpan, which got the deserved chuckle. He drove off the roadway and up a worn dirt road that wound its way into the desert and the mountains.
Slowly, the heavy old Suburban jostled and bounced up the rugged dirt path; to say it was still a road would be a stretch. Eventually, they got to a point where they were confident that the old SUV wouldn’t be seen from the road below. Jason turned the beast around and pointed back the way they had come in case they needed a quick getaway and they climbed out. The fact that the dirt path was now too narrow and rough to drive through was added motivation to get out on foot.
Erin slung her short M4 and grabbed her big .50-caliber rifle that was nearly as tall as she was. The heavy rifle went over her shoulders as she started up the path. Jason held his shotgun and followed, scanning their surroundings for any threats, living or dead, that may appear from around the sparse rugged moonscape, a worn pack slung over his shoulders.
Sweating in the cool afternoon mountain air, they reached a point where a large rock provided a good surface to lay and observe the mysteries ahead. Erin snapped the bipod legs of her rifle open, pulled the covers from the large scope, and took a position lying on the rock, her rifle ready, her experienced eye scanning the area through the rifle’s optic. Jason set the pack on the ground along with his shotgun and retrieved the spotting scope out of the pack. Sitting up, he scanned the area with the spotting scope.
“Holy shit, Erin. Those are flies, millions of flies!”
“Yeah, I noticed. Look under the flies then scan toward the right.”
“Zeds.”
Jason scanned right as instructed. “I’ve never seen so many dead upright and moving in one place, what the hell…oh.”
The armored convoy was parked in a large circle like covered wagons, the vehicles touching nose to tail, four large square radar antennas erected pointing opposite each other like a compass rose. Arcing away from each of the radar trucks were piles of Zeds crumpled on the ground motionless. All the dead reanimates formed a crude wall surrounding their temporary fort.
“Damn, they have a Zed moat protecting their castle. Who could have come up with such a thing?”
“It isn’t perfect; some of them are getting through to the trucks.”
“Yeah, but then they fall like bugs on a bug zapper.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like, Jason, what a good fucking idea. With enough of those radar trucks and some time, it would be possible to clear the entire country…or at least clear out areas for cities to take hold again.”
“OK, so are we going to do that?”
“No, Jessie and her merry band of fuckwits can do that; we’re going to ruin these asshole’s day.”
Jason looked at Jessie, who seemed to melt into her big rifle. Her breathing slowed and became rhythmic, purposeful.
After putting his eye back on the spotting scope and focusing in on the Chinese encampment, he asked, “Which one?”
“South is first, it’s the closest. I’m not sure if I can hit it from here.”
Jason shifted the spotting scope slightly to focus on the southernmost radar truck. The sudden hard thump of the rifle being fired bounced dirt in the air; the .50-caliber rifle was something you felt more than you heard. A breath later, he saw the plum of the big round slamming into the bottom right corner of the square antenna.
“Up and left, you hit the bottom right—”
Before he could say “corner,” the rifle barked fire once again. Startled, Jason was able to regain his composure just in time to see the following round slam into the middle of the square dish.
“East” was all Erin said next, moving the rifle a hair and firing. Jason followed to the radar truck with the spotting scope just in time to see the round impact.
“Good hit.”
“West.”
“Fuck, Erin, they’re—” Jason was interrupted by the rifle being fired again. “Erin, they’re pointing at us!”
Erin stood quickly, pulling her rifle up with her. “Come on, we need to get the fuck out of here.”
Jason tried to juggle the shotgun, his pack, and the spotting scope as he jogged down the trail following Erin, but he had to stop for a moment to get put together without dropping any of his gear. By the time he reached the Suburban, Erin was sitting in the driver’s seat with the motor running.
Jason climbed in beside her and barely got his door shut by the time they were moving.
“Baby, they still have to claw their way through that huge herd of Zeds to get to us.”
Erin nodded and slowed down a bit. It wasn’t worth breaking their only vehicle for rushing when they didn’t have to. By the time they reached the paved road again, the swarm of flies appeared to be getting larger.
“Is that getting bigger?”
“No, Jason, it’s fucking getting closer!”
Erin turned right, back the way they had come, and accelerated sharply, as sharply as the old Chevy could.
“Are you going back to the strip club?”
“No, too obvious. If they come back through that town, they’ll see the Zeds we killed and know someone was there. We’ll find something else, we have to, or we’ll keep driving back to Groom Lake, let those Marines handle it.”
“OK, great, but we won’t be doing much of either unless we find some fuel!”
SSC
Amanda walked slowly through the tunnel, the cool damp air hanging like a heavy curtain, muffling the soft sound of her footsteps. The M4 rifle tucked against her body in the SUL position, her hands relaxed but ready to move quickly. She reached the spot where the MRAPs were stored along with other vehicles and trailers. The spot where her now-destroyed armored truck had once sat remained empty, but the spot next to it was empty as well.
Relieved and annoyed, she now knew the next step of the story, but that answer only raised more questions.
OK, asshole, if you left, where did you go and are you going to come back?
