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The Living Saga (Book 2): Enduring

Page 7

by McFall, Jaron


  Cedric turned left out of the parking lot of the propane facility. A few seconds later, he saw the propane trucks in his rearview mirror turning the opposite direction to make their journey the long way back.

  Cedric followed the pathway they had taken to the facility in reverse. He knew the way. Within a few minutes, he was under fire again. Just like before, it was hard to tell exactly where it came from. But, unlike before, from inside the cab, Cedric could at least tell the general direction. When he was sitting in the bed, the echo was so bad from the armor, he couldn’t tell any details.

  He listened as he drove and the sharp ping ping ping came from the driver’s side. On instinct, he yanked the wheel hard and began to drive in the direction the shots came from. The pattern didn’t change. Every few seconds, there would be three shots. It was in rhythm.

  “Do you hear it?” he asked Steph.

  “Yeah, the bullets hitting us?” Steph still managed to sound sarcastic while she was terrified. “Yeah, I hear that, Ced.”

  “No,” he said. “I mean the rhythm. One, two, three, four, five, shot, shot, shot.”

  Steph closed her eyes. Once the third shot hit, she began to count in her head. It followed a specific pattern. She counted the cycle two more times to be sure.

  When she opened her eyes again, she nearly screamed. Cedric slammed on the brakes and the truck slid in the mud, coming to a stop near a burned-out house.”

  “What are we doing, Ced?” Steph asked.

  Cedric held his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

  Steph obliged.

  Slowly, Cedric removed his finger from his lips and pointed at a window of the house.

  Steph followed Cedric’s gaze and gasped as she recognized a gun barrel pointed out, directly at them. Cedric put the truck in reverse and slowly backed away. The gun barrel didn’t move.

  “Well, I guess they saw us,” Steph said.

  “But why aren’t they doing anything?” Cedric asked. He put the truck in drive and turned the wheel. He drove through the yard in front of the house. The gun barrel didn’t follow them anymore. Instead, it stayed pointed where it had been pointing before they’d moved. Cedric tried to look through the window, but the glass was pulled down only far enough to let the gun barrel stick through and the entire window was painted black.

  “What’s going on here?” Cedric asked.

  Steph merely shrugged at the question. She was just as confused as he was. After a moment, she said, “is that barrel a decoy?”

  “No, it tracked us. I watched it.” Cedric pressed harder on the accelerator and the truck started to gain speed. Immediately, the gun barrel swiveled and began firing.

  That’s when Cedric noticed it. “It’s not a gunman,” he said out loud.

  “No,” Steph said putting the pieces together. “Some kind of automatic turret?”

  “Is that possible?” Cedric asked. He figured Steph would know better than he would since she had military experience. The most Cedric knew of automatic sentries was what he’d seen in video games.

  “Well, yeah,” Steph said. “They are a thing. But the U.S. doesn’t use them. And I don’t know where they would have gotten some. I think South Korea used them.”

  Cedric paused for a brief moment thinking.

  He examined the window again before putting the truck in reverse. He slowly backed up. The barrel did not follow him.

  “Fast moving targets only,” Cedric said. “That explains a lot.”

  “I don’t get it,” Steph replied. “Why? A lot of the infected are fairly slow. Is it to stop vehicles?”

  “Don’t know,” Cedric said. “But I want a sample.”

  Before Steph could reply, Cedric put the truck in park and opened his door. “Stay in the truck,” he commanded.

  Cedric slowly walked to the window. He kept his eyes fixed on the gun barrel, but it refused to move. Within a few moments, he was directly underneath the window, crouched down. The window was only a few feet off the ground, so Cedric grabbed the bottom of the window and pushed up.

  Sitting just inside the room was a box the size of a mini fridge sitting on a table. A power cable ran from the back of the steel box to the roof. Cedric assumed that a solar panel must have been hidden in the remains of the attic.

  He saw the plug and reached inside. Within a few seconds, Cedric had pulled the power plug from the back of the turret. The flickering lights that were inside of the box all shut off.

  Unlike in the video games, the barrel of the gun did not immediately sag down like it was sad. Instead, the small humming noises just stopped abruptly. Cedric knew it was shut down.

  He grabbed the box and started to drag it toward himself. It was much heavier than he thought, but he managed to pull it out of the window and onto his shoulder. He then carried it to the rear of the truck. Steph left the cab and met him at the back to open it up.

  “What are we going to do with this?” She asked.

  “Ron can examine it,” Cedric told her. “I dunno. Maybe we can find a use. Maybe we can replicate it. Who knows?”

  “Whatever,” Steph said. “I think we’ve burnt enough time. Can we get to the crash site? There may be survivors.”

  “We are only going to observe,” Cedric said.

  “Not if there’s survivors. We need to help. That’s our mission, right? Find survivors. Bring them in. Help each other. Didn’t you write that on the walls?”

  “Can it,” Cedric teased. They’d all poked fun at the phrase he’d scrawled on the walls in black paint in the mess hall. Find Survivors. Bring them in. Help each other.

  With the turret in the bed, and at least part of the mystery solved, Cedric followed the small column of smoke to the crash site of the helicopters. They were shot at by another three turret sites on their way, but they finally were within sight distance of the helicopters.

  Cedric left the safety of the cab and climbed to the roof of the truck with the binoculars. He began to scan the area.

  “What’s the wreckage look like?” Steph shouted.

  “It’s not exactly wreckage,” Cedric said. “I mean, one kind of is. But not too bad. The other is just kind of sitting wonky. Both on fire. I don’t see the soldiers.”

  Cedric was about to report more when everything happened at once.

  Before he really registered why, Cedric felt his knees go weak. It felt like his stomach dropped a foot and he was ready to throw up. He could feel fear rising in him.

  Then, his brain really caught up to his nervous system. Cedric felt a slight breeze on the right side of his face and then, far too late, heard the crack of a high caliber rifle. The shot had missed him, but not by much.

  Cedric dropped to the bed of the truck through the opening in the top of the cage. He slid to the back of the bed, past the turret, and onto the ground. He quickly slammed the tailgate and ran to the driver’s side door. Once he was in, Steph hit the lock button and pointed straight ahead.

  Cedric then realized why he couldn’t see the soldiers from the helicopters in the binoculars. They weren’t at the helicopters anymore. They were thirty feet in front of him with their rifles aimed.

  Cedric gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles began to burn.

  “They think we shot them down,” Steph said as the soldiers slowly approached. She could tell by their formation and the way they held themselves that these guys were the real deal, unlike the FRA.

  “Think they have anything that can penetrate the armor?” Cedric said.

  “I’d rather not find out,” Steph replied.

  “I’ll put my hands up and go out. I’ll talk to them. You stay here. Drive back home if they try anything.”

  Steph merely nodded.

  Before the soldiers could get any closer, Cedric slowly opened the door and stuck his hands out first. Then, his body followed.

  “Don’t shoot!” he shouted in the direction of the men. “We did not shoot you down.” He added.

  He heard t
he locks click closed behind him.

  Cedric couldn’t immediately tell who at first, but a gruff voice replied, “Who did, then? And why?”

  Cedric kept his hands raised as an older soldier slowly stepped out of the ranks. Cedric counted a total of five men and two women. As he looked around, he noticed an eighth soldier, but this one was being carried. He assumed they must have died in the crash.

  “Honestly,” Cedric said, “I don’t know the answer to either of those. But let me explain.”

  The soldiers continued to make a half circle around Cedric as he talked. The one he assumed was in charge, the one with the gruff voice, lowered his rifle and approached Cedric.

  “So, explain,” he said.

  Cedric took a deep breath and said as much as possible as fast as he could. “Look in the back of my truck. There is a gun turret. It looks homemade. There are more scattered around. We think these got you. They track high-speed motion. Our truck was hit a few times. That’s how and why I got this one. This is our first time through this way in a while. Our normal route to town was shut down in the past couple of days. Blown up fuel truck. I think someone is building these and spreading them around. Would you like to come back to our compound for shelter and medical treatment?”

  Cedric took a deep breath again. He felt the eyes of the soldiers boring into him. He felt like he was back in school giving a presentation in front of the whole class and the teacher was seeing right through his Wikipedia fueled project.

  “Shelter and medical treatment, huh?” The old soldier said. Cedric finally noticed the faded name patch on his uniform, Pearson. “And this is offered by you and your girlfriend?”

  Cedric could feel the heat rising in his face.

  Pearson noticed and chuckled, “Not your girlfriend then? Is it just you two?”

  “Before I can answer any questions,” Cedric said ignoring the obvious teasing of the man, “I have to ask you something.”

  “I don’t think you are in a position to demand anything,” Pearson said.

  Cedric ignored him again. “Do you have any affiliation with the First Rogersville Army and do you plan on taking undue advantage of our supplies?”

  Pearson paused for a moment. “The First what Army? Boy, I ain’t got time for this. My name is Master Gunnery Sergeant William Pearson of the United States Marine Corps. If you have supplies and medical treatment, I do have wounded men. All teasing aside boy, do you have these supplies?”

  Cedric looked Pearson directly in the eyes and said, “Everyone works. Everyone has a job. Everyone must participate for as long as they are with us. Weapons must be kept on your person or locked in the armory. None are to be left unattended. We have children.”

  Pearson nodded. “Your house, your rules.”

  As they were piling into the bed of the truck, Cedric added, “Upon arrival, you do have to surrender your weapons for a brief time until our council talks to you. They decide whether you are allowed to stay or not. I promise you, whether you stay or not, you will get your weapons back. But at the very least, you’ll receive medical treatment and a good meal.”

  “Much appreciated,” Pearson responded.

  “One last thing,” Cedric said as he closed the gate. “We have to drive past more turrets. Lay down and stay down. Our armor is good, but if you raise up, you’re dead.”

  As soon as Cedric was back in the cab of the truck, he picked up his CB. Once the truck was in motion again, he clicked the button and said, “H.Q. Cedric calling, do you read? Over.”

  “We hear you, sir. Over,” a voice crackled back.

  “I need a full tactical welcome wagon,” Cedric said into the CB. “Seven noobs, fully geared. Experienced military. Over.”

  “Roger that. Over and out.”

  Chapter Six:

  TRUTH

  “Look,” Sergeant Pearson stated flatly, “I appreciate all you’ve done, but can we please start this meeting?”

  “We have to wait for all of our council members to be present,” Sue answered.

  “Besides,” Charlie said, “You’ve got no food, water, or transport. It’s almost dark. Half of your people are wounded. You don’t need to leave right now.”

  “Isn’t that why we are meeting?” one of the soldiers asked. “To see if we even get to stay. Because, if we can’t, we want to leave with as much daylight left as possible.”

  “True enough,” Sue said. “But you can at least stay the night. And really, we’re all patriots here. We just need to talk to you. That’s it.”

  The entire group consisted of six of the seven soldiers who were still alive and all of the department heads except for Dr. Moore who was with the last soldier for treatment. Most of the soldiers had been fed when they arrived while the doctor started to treat the soldier who’d been wounded the worst in the crash. She had a large gash on her thigh that needed stitches. Now, they were just waiting on him to finish treating the least injured, a man with what looked like a sprained wrist. How he managed to avoid serious injury in a helicopter crash, Cedric was unsure.

  The group sat in uncomfortable silence in their blue school chairs for a few minutes until the doors finally opened in the small classroom and the doctor and soldier walked in chuckling to each other.

  “Now,” Pearson said, “can we finally get started?”

  “First things first,” Sue said. She clicked the record button on an old tape recorder and said, “All members of the council are present.” She began to list their full names.

  She then turned to Pearson and said, “All new residents are present as well. Please tell us your names. Speak clearly.”

  Pearson, speaking on behalf of his crew, said, “I am Master Gunnery Sergeant William Pearson of the United States Marine Corps. To my right, in order, Master Sergeant Oliver Reid, Staff Sergeant Harley Stewart, Airman First Class Jace Warner. To my left, in order, Staff Sergeant Megan Scott, PFC Charlie Bennet, PFC Sean Clarke. List of dead upon arrival, Airman First Class Gianna Cole.”

  “Thank you,” Sue said scribbling the names as fast as she could. “Now, I don’t have a military background. Can you please clarify for me, PFC stands for Private First Class, correct?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Pearson responded.

  “And, you are all from the Marine Corps?” She followed up.

  “No ma’am,” Jace Warner said stepping forward. Cedric noticed his uniform was different. While all of the others had the standard camo pants and shirt style, Warner had a jumper in olive drab. “A1C Cole and I are Air Force, ma’am.”

  “Thank you,” Sue said. She visibly relaxed. Cedric knew these talks usually didn’t go this smooth. “Now,” she said continuing, “Can you tell us where you’ve been and what your plans are? Cedric told us in his debriefing you were shot down.”

  “I can only tell you certain details. Other details will have to be left out for security purposes,” Pearson said.

  Cedric watched as Sue tensed back up.

  Pearson took a short breath and paused while he cataloged his thoughts. Then, he started without any breaks like he’d given reports like this his whole life. “Our two choppers made up a team called Air Team Alfa. We are coordinating with two other air teams: Air Team Bravo and Air Team Charlie. In addition, we have two ground teams: Ground Team Alfa and Ground Team Bravo. We each have a specific delivery to a specific location. We are roughly halfway to our destination. Our helicopters were modified with extra fuel tanks so we could make the journey without landing. Cole and Warner were our pilots for this mission.”

  “The way you’re talking,” Charlie said interrupting, “it’s like we still have a functioning government.”

  “We do,” Sergeant Pearson said. “Again, I can only say so much. But we have almost two dozen different military installations still functioning. We have a Commander in Chief giving…”

  “The president is still alive?” Charlie said.

  “We have a Commander in Chief giving orders,” Pearson said. “I cannot say m
ore than that on the subject.”

  “What about other countries?” Jack asked from the corner. Cedric had thought Jack had fallen asleep he’d been so quiet.

  “Mexico has fallen. Those who remained left for South America. Canada was mostly evacuated before it got bad,” Pearson answered.

  “And the rest of the world?” Jack asked.

  “The rest of the world is watching North America very closely. We are under full quarantine as per the U.N.’s orders.” Pearson huffed as he thought. “Nobody is allowed to leave the North American continent due to the risk of spreading this to the other continents. All communications with the outside world have been severed except for our main communication with Hawaii. The only two surviving states we have are Hawaii and Alaska. But one really warm summer and Alaska is gone. The infection will continue north. Unless we finish our delivery job, that is.”

  “What are you delivering?” Cedric asked.

  “Classified,” Pearson said without turning to him.

  “Where are you going?” Cedric followed up.

  “Classified,” Pearson repeated.

  “What else can you tell us?” Sue asked.

  “Honestly, ma’am. Not much.”

  The more the Sergeant talked, the more he reminded Cedric of Chip Hazard from Small Soldiers. This thought almost made him smile inappropriately in the meeting.

  To cover it up, Cedric followed up with another question, “Is there a cure?”

  This question gave Pearson pause. “There is… progress. But no cure.”

  Cedric tuned the next question out as he began to put pieces together in his head. He looked at each of the soldiers in turn and noticed a few details out of place. Almost like he had dumped a puzzle out of the box and everything just immediately fit together, Cedric’s thoughts sparked.

  He interrupted Charlie in the middle of his question and said, “The two backpacks. Why didn’t you leave them with the rest of your equipment? They look rather large and heavy.”

  Cedric could tell Pearson was trying to hide his grin of amusement. “Classified,” Pearson said.

  Cedric then skipped questioning and said, “Going from the direction you were coming from I’m assuming you’re coming from DC. You’ve already said you equipped your choppers with long-range fuel tanks. If you’re halfway there, I bet you're headed to either Atlanta or Houston. But, since you wouldn’t have been flying over us if you were going to Atlanta, its Houston. You paused at the question for the cure, so the boxes in the backpacks contain whatever progress there is.”

 

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