by Lund, Dave
Keith still giggled a little, but he took out another firecracker with a long fuse from his pocket, along with his slingshot. The trick didn’t work this time. Some of the Zeds followed the diversion, but most had their dead white eyes locked onto the three men.
“Shit.” Ken shouldered his rifle and fired. It startled Keith and Carl, but the Zed about to grasp Keith’s shirt fell to the ground, never to rise again.
“Get to work, hippie. I’ve got the fucking Zeds!”
Both Carl and Keith nodded as they began moving stuff from the bed of the truck to the trunk of the car. Not everything fit so he took ammo and left food, as Carl said they had food to share. In a short amount of time, the three of them were in the Mercedes and driving off the highway into the countryside on a farm-to-market road. Ken kept catching a whiff of a smell that was like day-old french fries in the car.
Near Ennis, Texas
Sunlight broke over the horizon, which glowed red with thick clouds toward the northeast. Bexar walked the area, his AR-15 slung across his chest with his ammo carrier and pistol—his full tactical loadout. It didn’t even seem odd anymore, much like remembering to put your cellphone and wallet in your pocket back before the world changed. The combat load, ammo, and weapons were his everyday carry and attire.
Red sky at night, sailor’s delight, red sky in morn…
Bexar shook his head. The old limerick was often true and that meant they needed shelter sooner than later. They had parked for the night and slept in the FJ near the top of a hill in some pasture land. The fence appeared to be standing when they arrived last night and shut the gate behind them, which afforded them some limited protection from single Zeds. If a herd or swarm of Zeds hit the fence, it would crumble as if it was made of paper from the mass of bodies, but they did what they could with what they had. However, now they needed more. They needed a farmhouse near a lake or large pond that was set back from any major roadways. This was the area that he and Jessie had chosen while scouring maps in Pecos and so far, it looked promising. They should only be a few miles away from the SSC so they could flee there if they had to or for when the baby came. They weren’t super sure on the due date, but Jessie thought the baby should be due in September or early October. They only had a few more months to prepare and if this baby was like Keeley had been, then time would zoom by in a blink and they would be holding a newborn with a slightly stunned expression on their faces.
There were a farmhouse and an outbuilding about a half mile to their south. It appeared to have a stock pond near the house and was worth checking out. Bexar thought about going back to get Jessie, who was resting in the FJ, or was supposed to be, but decided to clear the house and barn on his own. Her ankle was improving, but still very much injured and painful.
Dozens of long-dead cattle lay half-decomposed in the pasture between Bexar and the house. To Bexar, it seemed that thousands of years had passed since cows had been self-sufficient wild animals and they simply weren’t able to survive as they were. Predators, diseases, and things Bexar was sure he didn’t know about had killed off most of the cattle they had seen. Some even had bite marks from Zeds. Bexar laughed at the visual of a dead body trying to eat their steak very rare.
That must have really confused the cow.
Bexar chuckled then felt bad for laughing about something that was really inappropriate to laugh about. That was the nature of the world now, eat or be eaten as it were.
The house appeared to have been abandoned, but Bexar approached on a corner where there were the fewest windows just to be sure. Nearing the home, he scanned the windows for signs of activity. There was no movement; he didn’t even see any flies inside the windows. Bexar’s mind flashed to the church of bodies in Cortez and shuddered slightly. That was quite possibly the worst thing he had ever seen or experienced. A feeling of satisfaction waved over him at the thought of having extracted justice against the cult who had killed and tortured all those people.
After making a lap around the house and the barn with no sign of movement, Bexar checked the front door, which he found unlocked.
After a deep breath, Bexar pushed the front door open and backed away from the dark opening, using the door frame and wall as cover. He waited, staring into the darkened interior. No uniquely bad smells reached him outside, although the home smelled stale, which was actually a good sign. Maybe the people fled or maybe they weren’t home when the attack had come.
Bexar yelled into the doorway and slapped his hand against the door frame a few times then waited, ready, rifle in his hands. He had to remind himself to breathe as he counted silently. Once he reached 60, Bexar slapped the door and yelled into the home again, waiting for any Zeds to shamble toward the disturbance. Checking his six, Bexar saw a single Zed stumble out of the barn and toward the house. The Zed appeared to have been an older man in coveralls, which seemed both cliché and appropriate for the homestead. Bexar let his rifle hang on the sling and he drew his heavy knife. After closing the distance, Bexar plunged the thick blade into the old man’s skull before his hands could grasp the new prey. Bexar extracted the knife from the now truly dead man’s skull, and wiped the pungent rotted gore from the blade on the man’s coveralls and slid the knife back into the Kydex sheath on his belt before returning his attention to the open front door of the house.
Still no movement.
He walked back to the dark doorway, flipped on the bright light mounted on his AR, and began slowly clearing the house. A few minutes later, Bexar was done with the house and cleared the barn, which, after having killed the old man’s reanimated body, was empty.
Bexar stepped back outside and looked up toward where the FJ was parked. He couldn’t see it due to a rise in the landscape, but it should be down the hill from the house and on the other side of the next low hill. This house and barn were perfect for he and Jessie to bring a new baby into this fucked-up world in.
As he walked back toward the FJ, Bexar scanned the area and thought about ways to improve their security. If he could find a bunch of metal shipping containers, he could make a walled compound, but even if he found them, there was no way he could move them or put them in place. There was an ancient-looking tractor with a bunch of implements in the barn, including a front-end loader, so if he could get that working, Bexar knew he could make earthen walls or berms at least. Regardless, he had a case of empty sandbags to fill but he would need many more.
Nellis Air Force Base, Las Vegas, Nevada
Daylight didn’t wait for the lazy, so just before sunrise, as the horizon glowed with twilight and the approaching sun, Aymond and his crew were awake and working. The new radar truck was up and functioning well. It kept the two dozen Zeds that meandered up during the night out of their hangar and let them keep from firing their rifles, of which the report of rifle fire echoing across the runway would almost certainly bring more Zeds. Quiet and calm, they worked quickly to prepare the convoy to return to Groom Lake. All they needed was munitions and some specialized loading equipment. Aymond didn’t smile, his passive face as close to a smile as he would get while working a mission. He expected something unexpected to put a speed bump in their lane, but Aymond had no idea what it could be yet, just that it usually was that way.
The sound of big jet turbine engines and an aircraft flying at a high speed ripped over the roof of the hangar to a chorus of fucks being uttered from the surprise. The aircraft was low enough that some of the men ducked. Aymond looked outside the hangar doors and saw an A-10 bank and climb as it raced across the flightline and runways.
“Chief, is that—?”
Happy was cut off by Aymond’s raised hand. Aymond keyed his radio and spoke tersely, the reply terse and quick as well.
“That’s the major. Make ready to get that Hog into this hangar; she’s going to land close and taxi fast.”
The hangar erupted in activity. The vehicles were moved out, the radar tru
ck moved aside to give room for the aircraft to taxi into the shelter of the hangar. A few minutes later, Major Pearce shut down the engines of her A-10 and yelled out of the open cockpit to close the doors and get hidden. The Marines and civilians looked to Aymond who nodded.
“The trucks! Get the fucking trucks hidden too!”
Aymond waved approval to the men as they scrambled to make the unusual directions happen. “What’s the deal, Major?”
“Ambush and attack. Groom Lake is under siege and it’s bad, really bad. Mortar teams destroyed much of the built-up perimeter and if everyone is smart, they’re locked down and safe below the surface. We barely got off the ground.… Hoose got it from a SAM.”
Aymond nodded and listened attentively to the brief. He wished he could raise Groom Lake on the radio, but they were too far away and there were mountains in their line of sight, so their VHF comms wouldn’t work. His best-laid plans were now completely wrecked and now they were trying to organize a quick reaction force (QRF). The problem is that a QRF usually had a lot more men and weapons than they had, but they had a Hog and that was an advantage, as long as they could keep it from being shot out of the sky and keep it loaded. Their convoy to Groom Lake would have to wait; they couldn’t setup shop where they had planned. There were other airfields in the Tonopah range, but they didn’t know their status, if the Chinese and Korean forces had taken them, or even if they had fuel that could be salvaged and used.
“Major, we’re going to setup a re-arm shop here in this hangar for you and leave enough of my men to make it work. Gonzo, Happy, and I are going to get back to Groom Lake and recon the situation. We will be on the same freq, so check in as you get airborne and into radio range.”
Before Pearce could reply, Aymond yelled across the hangar, “Jones, Happy, Gonzo!”
The three men trotted over to where Aymond and Major Pearce stood. “Jones, you’re in charge of the operation to arm, fuel, and keep the major’s Hog flying. Happy and Gonzo, you’re with me to recon Groom Lake.”
He continued, understanding the confused faces. “Groom Lake is under siege, an attack just before sunrise. We have mortar teams and some may be armed with shoulder-fired SAMs. We’re going to haul ass, get hidden, and relay information to the major here to conduct runs on their forces. We will also try to make contact with the remaining forces secured below ground.”
Discussion continued quickly, hashing out the plans in slightly greater detail, but Aymond left most of the plans for how things were going to unfold in this hangar to Jones. Aymond had his own problems and mission to plan while on the drive. They simply didn’t have time to wait.
A few minutes later, the M-ATV drove off with Aymond, Gonzo, and Happy. Major Pearce turned and began prepping her aircraft to be re-armed, specifically showing Jones the process of how to load the iconic GAU-8 sticking out of the nose of the aircraft.
Pecos, Texas
The odd facility in the already odd top-secret underground inland cache facility reminded Erin of the odd top-secret smaller duplicate facility at Groom Lake where her mother was found reanimated. It was small, purpose-built, and a secret inside of a secret. There were bunks in what looked like a hospital wing, food service facilities, and the large entryway that looked a bit like a processing facility.
The two of them explored the facility in greater detail. Erin started a checklist of items, gear, and weapons they could use and that she wanted. Jason had begun a checklist of clothing, food, and medical items he thought they would need.
“It’s like a field hospital with supplies. Like some sort of secret re-up room in a fucking video game.”
“Erin, if you see a section of wall that looks different, then we should blow a hole in it and see if it unlocks another secret passage.”
Erin slapped Jason on the shoulder, who laughed at her. “Sure, act like you don’t want to go on some sort of epic side quest.”
“Baby, this is an epic fucking side quest, the entire damn world.”
Erin kissed Jason gently on the cheek, slapped his ass, and continued walking down the aisle. For being underground, the facility was cavernous, like an entire gigantic warehouse box store selling five-gallon jugs of mayonnaise to preppers who have a lot of imagination and little practical skills. They walked because they wanted a chance to stretch their legs, but they also felt like they missed too many details as they whirred by on an electric cart. They would absolutely use the cart to collect supplies, but sort of like going to the Swedish flat box furniture store, they wrote down the aisle and shelf number of the items they wanted and kept the list going so they could find their new gear and supplies with ease. Lastly, they both felt safe, truly safe, and it’s the first time in a very long time either had felt that way.
If anyone else showed up, that would probably change. If anyone else knew about this place, that would most likely change because they both realized that the feeling of safety was only because they were secured underground with no other persons there that could fuck up their new post-modern dream house.
“How long do you think we should stay here?”
Erin squeezed his hand, their fingers intertwined as they walked. “Really, the question is how long could we stay here?”
“We should probably go topside every so often to get some sunlight for our health and so we don’t get too mentally fucked up from the lack of it.”
“Probably, but I think we can put that off for a few more days, maybe a couple of weeks? Oh, I want to setup a shelter here. I would rather not stay in the hospital wing; it’s sort of creepy.”
Jason nodded, paused for a moment, and wrote an item on his list and marked down the item’s location: a case of Life Straw water filters that they would absolutely need as society continued to get further and further away from having readily available municipality treated water, however safe and clean and good that was before the attack.
“We should see if we can find another bathroom somewhere out here besides the big one in the indoc area.”
“Is that what you think all of that is?”
“Yes, I think so; it would make sense. They built this facility to be behind the friendly’s front lines, assuming an invasion from Mexico from whomever, probably the Soviets when this place was first built, but they needed a place for supplies, fuel, and weapons, and they needed a safe field hospital as well. What I’m surprised about is a lack of other major entrances. Seems like there should be another large entry, but maybe that wouldn’t be smart?”
“Well, in my extensive experience with secret underground military complexes, I would say maybe,” Erin said with a snicker. They really had no idea, but this was the third secret underground complex that they knew about, and the second one to stay in.
“Imagine how many of these there are spread across the U.S. You know there has to be more along each of the two borders and on each coast.”
“I would suspect as much. I wonder if our entry code works for all of them?”
“It would make sense to have a universal code for troops on the run, but maybe not? I mean, how in the hell will we find them? There’s no way if Chivo hadn’t told us about this one.”
Erin stopped walking. “I mean, if we can find out where the others are, then we might find one close to our destination, a place we can really settle down and start a new life in our new world. Just you and me.”
Jason had stopped walking as well and stood next to Erin. “It seems like a waste, though, that so many people could benefit from these supplies.”
“It would be a waste to announce this is here and have it stripped and pillaged by assholes. No, we keep this close to the chest and it can serve us for the rest of our lives, which I think is more important than fuck sticks who lucked through survival due to the goodwill of others.”
Jason gave Erin a hug. He suspected that her attitude had changed to one of an angry cynic after Sarah w
as killed and she still blamed Jessie, but Jason didn’t blame Jessie at all. Just like he didn’t blame the cult for killing his wife; he blamed the Koreans and the Chinese for ruining everything.
“Well, baby, for now, keep an eye out for a bathroom and we’ll put up one of the tents near there with some coats, the whole works.”
Erin laughed, which startled Jason. “It’s like that home-buying TV show. ‘She’s a ruthless Zed killer, he’s an adorable sexy prepper-supplies-logistics specialist. Together, they’re searching for the perfect post-apocalyptic bungalow and their budget is 3.2 million.”
Jason laughed, bending over with his hands on his knees. “Seriously, how did any of those people afford any of those homes? There is no way.”
They needed that laugh, badly. With a faint hint of a smile, Erin took Jason’s hand as they continued their leisurely shopping stroll.
SSC
Chivo walked into the command center and found Amanda sitting back with her feet on a desk leafing through a printout. Eric stood near her at another desk, operating a computer-projected display on one of the giant monitors on the wall. It looked like a set piece out of the movie War Games.
Amanda looked up. “Well?”
“We’re finished.”
“And?”
Chivo wore a clean uniform, with no insignia visible. “He gave us some good intel, and he won’t be a problem any longer.”
Amanda nodded, ignoring the obvious question. “And what is that good intel?”
“I would like to sit down at a computer and write a report so I can better organize the details and we can analyze it all, but the short version is that he was a North Korean agent who entered the U.S. via a false South Korean visa almost 36months ago. His job was to scout secret facilities in Texas for the coming attack and invasion. He hadn’t known the date of the attack or even that there was one coming at all really—just a standard deep-cover recon mission—but he was notified via shortwave broadcast of the impending attack less than 24 hours before it happened.”
