“But how the heck did you build automatic turrets? I mean, how did you know?” Cedric asked. He’d been wanting to ask the entire conversation, but it never felt like the right moment.
Hermon smiled. “Believe it or not, most of the people here are computer programmers. I was the hotel manager here. Mahle, the factory, was doing interviews at this hotel. Programmers had flown in from all over the country before the flights were grounded.”
Cedric turned and was about to leave when Hermon said, “By the way.” Cedric stopped and turned back to listen. “The first shot,” Hermon said, “to, you know, answer your question earlier. The first shot was an air powered, woodblock cannon.”
Cedric was led directly to Warner. He was in a room a few doors down standing on the balcony.
“You know,” Warner said. “I don’t know if I buy their story here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cedric said. “We’re leaving. I’m going to find a car. Then, we’re going back.”
Warner leaned over the railing to look straight down. “Three floors up. Think Hermon would splatter if I tossed him over?”
“Look, man. They aren’t rocket scientists here.” Then Cedric stopped remembering about the job interviews. He knew Mahle made car parts, but he didn’t know if any of the programmers actually might have done something with rockets in the past. “They don’t mean any harm. I know, I know,” he added quickly as Warner stood back straight and started to pace. “Not the brightest move on their part. They’re scared. People do stupid thing when they’re scared.”
“Yeah, and stupid gets people killed. That’s what they teach us in training.”
“You’ve had training for war, yeah. They haven’t.”
Warner stopped his pacing and set his jaw. “Alright, Cedric. You’re getting the car. What do I need to do?”
“Cover my back. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Warner cracked a smile at that. “Sounds like what you told your girl. ‘Be back in an hour.’”
“Yeah,” Cedric said as he turned to leave. “She’s going to roast me alive when I get home.”
Chapter Nine:
THE WORST OF LUCK
Cedric ran across the wet asphalt. Judging from the smell in the air and the amount of puddles, it had rained all night. Cedric ran past car after car, not even bothering to check them.
“What’s up, man?” Warner shouted when he noticed Cedric wasn’t stopping. “You ain’t got to get the perfect car. Just get one.”
“I know two things about each and every one of these cars,” Cedric said.
“Yeah?”
“One,” Cedric said crouching behind a car to look at Warner, “all of the ones in this lot have been checked and won’t start.”
“Yeah?” Warner repeated trying to catch his breath.
“Two, they all have bad gas. Ethanol separates into alcohol and water after a couple of months. These have been sitting for about seven months.” Cedric explained. “We need to find utility vehicles or street racers. They usually have the ethanol free gas.”
“Makes sense,” Warner said huffing.
“And three,” Cedric said.
“I thought you said two.”
“Three,” Cedric repeated, “You need to do some cardio.”
Cedric opened the door to the car he was leaned up on and motioned for Warner to get in. He did. Cedric then proceeded to shut him in the car and said, “Stay put. I’ll be back.”
Then, he turned and ran. When Cedric got to Morris Boulevard, he hooked a left going east. In the distance, Cedric saw a small hoard of infected, but it wasn’t in the direction he planned on going. They were at least two miles out and he only needed to go a few hundred yards.
Cedric continued running at a fast pace until he saw the restaurant he remembered. It was a brown building he used to eat at when he was a kid. He turned and ran up the hill. On level ground, Cedric had become a fairly accomplished runner. But now, going up a steep incline, his calves burned fiercely.
Cedric was nearly to the top of the hill when he saw three infected veer from the restaurant and run toward him.
“Crap, greenies,” he said. He knew he couldn’t take three of the long infected in hand-to-hand, so he drew his 9mm pistol. One thing about his training time was the limited amount of ammo meant a limited amount of target practice. Cedric stood stock-still waiting. He knew he couldn’t make the shot.
The infected were closing in quicker than he anticipated. Cedric pulled the trigger of his pistol but heard multiple shots ring out.
The infected man he’d been aiming for fell, but so did the man next to him. Before Cedric could fire again, the infected woman has gotten too close.
Cedric instinctively pistol-whipped the woman, but her momentum was too much. The pair went tumbling back down the hill. In the fall, Ceric lost his firearm. He was just about to have a set of jaws rip into him when another shot rang out and the woman collapsed on top of him.
“You are such a jerk!” Warner shouted out. “Did you really think I couldn’t keep up just because I was breathing a little heavy?”
Cedric pushed the woman off him and started to laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “It took you long enough.”
Warner turned to survey his surroundings. “Laugh later. Run now. We’ve got about thirty headed this way.”
“Yeah. Nearly forgot about them,” Cedric said getting to his feet. On his way back up the hill, he stopped and grabbed his pistol from the ditch.
“Where to?” Warner shouted from behind Cedric.
“I think there’s a bus depot up here. I figure they store some fuel barrels for summer, so it’s probably ethanol free.”
“Like Greyhound?” Warner asked.
“Like School,” Cedric replied.
Cedric and Warner ran the next two minutes in silence. It was broken by Cedric’s expletive when he saw the parking lot. “Okay, maybe I was wrong.”
“Not completely,” Warner said pointing at two school buses. “Doesn’t look like a depot, more like a mechanics’ shop.”
“Yeah,” Cedric said defensively. “I’m not from this county. Not my school district. But come on.”
Cedric ran to the closest school bus. He prised the door open and slipped inside, Warner right behind him. Once inside, they latched the door closed.
“Cedric, I don’t want to get trapped in here,” Warner said. “See if it starts.”
Cedric obliged and tried to crank the engine. When he turned the key, the engine made a few short, labored turns before the starter began to click.
“That sounded sad,” Cedric said.
Smack!
“Trapped,” Warner said.
Cedric looked out of the windows. The infected were surrounding the bus.
“Emergency exit,” he said.
“Blocked,” Warner replied.
“No,” Cedric said pointing up.
Above them was a two-foot by two-foot white square. Cedric climbed on the back of the seats and pulled the red handle. A small siren tried to blare, but the weakened battery couldn’t sustain more than a short, muted whirring noise that died quickly. Cedric climbed through the hole and lifted Warner up after him.
“Should we try to jump to the next one?” Warner asked.
Cedric looked at the other bus, but the front door was open on it. “Nah, Let’s just chill out here.” He pushed the white door closed and twisted the handle back.
“At least we’ve got shade,” Warner said appraising the trees at the edge of the parking lot.
“Don’t jinx those too,” Cedric said. “You had to make the comment about the time. Now the trees will probably burn down.”
“Hey man. It’s not my fault your plans suck. Just do me a favor and remind me to not go anywhere with you again.”
“Hey, Sue,” Ross said from his corner desk, “take a look at this request from Charlie.”
Ross handed Sue Charlie’s daily report for the Labor Department for the previous day. S
ue skimmed the report looking for whatever Ross thought was important. She mouthed key words and self-comments as she went. “Security upgrade. Cleared by defense. Okay. Plumbing cleared. Ready for habitation. That’s all good.” Sue lowered the report and looked at Ross.
“Keep reading,” Ross said smirking.
Sue huffed and pulled the paper back up to skim further down. Within ten seconds, she stopped and read aloud, “I request that Ben Camp be transferred from Logistics to Labor.”
“He can have him,” Ross said. “I’ll go find Charlie and tell him he’s been reassigned.” He stood up to leave.
“No,” Sue said handing the paper back to Ross.
Ross sat back down and slowly said, “Okay… why?”
“I’m going to tell Charlie that Ben is reassigned pending completion of his current task. Once it is finished, he will be reassigned.”
Ross pulled his duty roster from the shelf. “What is his assignment?” he asked scanning the clipboard.
Sue turned and started back toward her desk. “He’s said before that he has experience reloading spent ammunition shells and cartridges. So, he is to create a complete list of materials needed and take stock of the spent casings we’ve been saving.”
“That’s it?” Ross asked.
“There’s a fifty-five-gallon drum filled with spent casings. And he was going to have his own workshop to just refill ammo full time. So, he will have to sort the drum and train the next person to do it.”
Sue pulled her office chair from her desk and sat down. She was just about to start her own paperwork when a knock came from her door.
“Cedric’s crew still hasn’t returned,” Eric said hobbling through the doorway on his crutches.
“They probably stayed at one of the outposts again,” Ross said leaning back. “They have gotten caught out before, right? Maybe when the storm hit, they hunkered down.” It took Ross a minute to realize that Eric didn’t have anywhere to sit, so he hastily jumped up from his chair.
“That’s what I thought,” Eric said sitting down with a quick nod in thanks. “The treehouse, outpost one, is in the opposite direction. We tried to hail outpost two last night, but the storm was interfering with coms. When we got through about twenty minutes ago, they reported that no one else was there.”
“What does protocol say to do in this circumstance?” Sue asked trying to remember.
“Failure to check in after twelve hours requires a scouting team,” Eric said.
“So,” Sue replied, “send a scouting team.”
Eric grimaced. “There’s an issue,” he said.
Sue rolled her hand in a ‘keep going’ gesture.
“If we stick to protocol, a scouting team is two people on the dirt bikes. That way, if they need a quick or tight get-away, they can maneuver whatever terrain.” Eric paused looking slightly ashamed.
“You’re making me impatient,” Sue said jokingly.
“Only four of the Nighthawks actually know how to ride them effectively. I don’t want to put an amateur at risk, especially since it's going to be slick out there after the storm. Two of our experienced riders were on the mission last night. I’m on crutches. That leaves Collins.”
“Okay, now I see the problem,” Sue said. She steepled her fingers and leaned forward. Then she caught Ross in the corner of her eye and knew from his expression what was about to come out of his mouth.
“It is a marvelous thing,” Ross said grinning, “that I rode dirt bikes all over military bases growing up.”
Cedric laid down on his stomach and began to draw a rough map of the area in the pollen that had gathered on the roof of the bus.
“We’re right about here,” Cedric said putting an X on his location. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, but I know where a vehicle is. I know it runs, too.”
“Like, you know where a bus depot is?” Warner asked.
“Like, I just saw this one two days ago. So long as it has gas, we’re good.” Cedric leaned to the side of the bus and saw that most of the infected had trickled to different areas over the past two hours. “There’s only a few left down there.”
“Think we can take them?”
“I don’t think we need to. I’ve got an idea.” Cedric looked down the road smirking.
“No, man. No. Your ideas suck,” Warner said leaning back.
“Trust me,” Cedric said popping the emergency exit back open. This time, the alarm did not sound.
Cedric climbed back into the cab of the bus and walked to the driver’s seat. By the time Warner had climbed down, Cedric was already buckled up in the seat, had the key turned to the “On” position, and the gear shifter was in neutral.
“Hey man,” Warner said. “What are you doing?”
“Releasing the parking brake,” Cedric said as he grabbed the handle. “I’d buckle up.”
Warner jumped into one of the seats, but there were no buckles on this model.
Cedric pulled the brake release and the spring-loaded handle snapped back with a loud report. The entire bus shuttered forward an inch.
“That was anticlimactic,” Warner said.
Cedric smiled as he took his foot off the brake pedal. The bus was parked on a slight incline and the tires were low on air, so the bus didn’t speed up in any hurry, but it did start to move. It took nearly all of Cedric’s strength to steer the bus since there was no power steering in a dead vehicle, but he managed to straighten the bus out onto the small road.
“I don’t like this,” Warner said as the bus started to pick up speed.
Cedric just laughed as the bus left the parking lot completely and started down the steep hill. Cedric’s laughter died halfway down the hill, however. He began to push the brake pedal in to slow their descent, but the brakes would not engage. The bus reached the main road in a few seconds but did not stop.
Cedric shouted, “Hold on!” as he pulled the steering wheel slightly to the right and covered his face.
The bus crashed, dead center, on a utility pole. The rear of the bus spun around with momentum but was caught up and stopped by a chain link fence.
Cedric groaned before saying, “You alright?”
Warner stood up from his seat and wobbled slightly, “I honestly can’t figure out how you are still alive.”
Cedric unbuckled himself from the seat and rolled onto the floor. It took him nearly a full minute to regain his equilibrium. Once he did, he surveyed the street.
“No infected,” Warner said.
“I don’t see any either,” Cedric confirmed. “Can you run?”
“I kind of have to,” he said.
“Okay, just keep up. It’s somewhere between one and three miles. I don’t know the exact distance,” Cedric said. He grabbed the handle to open the door, but it was jammed shut from the impact of the wreck.
“Three miles?” Warner asked.
“Maybe one,” Cedric said walking by him to go to the rear door. He tried to push it open. “This one’s stuck too.”
“Yeah, man. Your plans suck, so I’m just going to wait right here.”
“Suit yourself,” Cedric said as he busted the side emergency exit window out.
He climbed down from the side of the bus and started jogging.
Ross followed closely behind Collins.
“When we get close, we have to walk the bikes,” Collins had said before they left. “There are automatic turrets in the fields. If we go fast, they shoot.”
This thought kept Ross paranoid as he rode. Every distant sound triggered a knee-jerk reaction of fear that he was being shot. It was, however, all in vain.
Eventually, Collins slowed his bike and hopped off. Ross followed suit and began to walk beside Collins.
“How far until we reach the crash site?” he asked after he pushed his visor up on his helmet.
“I actually don’t know,” Collins replied. “I only know the route we took and about where the choppers crashed. I was driving a propane truck back.”
Ross’s fears of walking a long distance were relieved within a few minutes, however. But these fears were replaced by fears for his friends.
“Okay,” Collins said once they reached the truck. “I’ve got to call this in.” He pulled his CB from his small backpack and clicked the talk button. “HQ, this is scout one. Over.”
Sue’s voice crackled back over the airwaves. She’d been expecting a call. “Scout one, we read you. Over.”
“We found the cage roller. It’s abandoned in a ditch. We will need to pull it out. No sign of the collection team. Over.”
“Follow protocol. Over and out.”
“Follow protocol,” Collins repeated as he stuffed the CB back into his bag.
“Yeah,” Ross said. “She says that when she doesn’t actually know what the protocol for another department is. Do you?”
“Mostly,” Collins said. “It was me, Eric, and Cedric who wrote them.”
“Eric, Cedric, and I,” Ross said.
“Good lord,” Collins said. “No wonder you and Ced are best buddies. He pulls that crap too.”
“So, you should be used to it” Ross laughed.
“Yeah, no.” Collins said sarcastically. “And with you, I just won’t bring you along on missions anymore.”
Ross scoffed, “You didn’t want to bring me now. You only did because you were ordered to.”
“No training, no gear. Do Cedric’s leathers even fit you?”
Ross tugged at the motorcycle riding leathers he’d gotten from Cedric’s closet. “Honestly, no. Way too loose. Six months ago, they wouldn’t have fit him either. I don’t even think he’s realized how much muscle he’s put on.”
Collins chuckled. “I remember that first mission, taking that scrawny kid out. Kind of like now,” he quipped.
Ross sneered and was about to reply that he and Collins were close to the same age when he heard a noise in the distance. “Someone’s coming, I think.”
“Push the bikes to the tree line,” Collins said. “We can’t ride them right here anyways. The turrets will get us.”
The Living Saga (Book 2): Enduring Page 11
