Zombie Fallout 16

by Mark Tufo

  “You hear that?”

  “I’m right next to you, Cat, of course I heard it.”

  “Then check it out, Dan,” she whispered angrily.

  “Who’s there?”

  Iggy could tell that the man was attempting to make his voice sound deeper and more threatening, but the tremor belied his true demeanor.

  It’s me, Iggy, the ape signed. I’m here for dinner. He chuffed at his joke. Iggy watched as the man’s shadow approached the doorframe. Iggy paused when he thought he saw the barrel of a rifle, but then charged when he realized it was a stick. Iggy hated sticks. When he’d first been captured, men had beat him with hard wooden sticks and later, in the labs, they had used sticks with crackling blue lightning at the end to hurt him.

  “What the…” Dan shouted just as Iggy crashed into him, sending the man sliding back into the room. Iggy wrenched the bat from the man and beat him mercilessly as the woman named after a feline stood in shocked silence. That wouldn’t last long; he’d seen the paralysis before. As soon as she sucked in enough air, she would begin to scream. He grabbed her by the throat and pulled her close before slamming her to the floor. He’d knocked her unconscious, but even so, he stepped on her head to keep her on the ground while he feasted on her mate. She awoke once, thrashing her arms and legs around in a desperate bid to gain her freedom. He pressed his full weight down until he heard something snap, and she stilled. He napped among the gnawed bones and the few bits he did not care to eat. With food so plentiful, he’d not deemed it necessary to take in anything that did not please him greatly.

  When he awoke, the sun was just coming over the horizon. He found himself still pleasantly sated and ready to head back to his new home. He went to the window and was about to go out the same way he came in, when he saw many men in the camouflage coverings walking around his winged shelter.

  They found my nest. I will have to move now. If sadness could be conveyed through hand gestures, Iggy had done so. He retreated further into the room so he could still watch, but even the most prying of eyes would not be able to spy him. He noticed that they did not look agitated, though they were moving quickly, loading crates into the plane. An hour later, he watched as the last of the men got into vehicles and drove away.

  Home, he signed before climbing out the window and loping back. He was cautious at first, sniffing, making sure none had stayed behind. When he was confident that was not the case, he inspected the crates closer. Some smelled like food, others like the sharp sting of weaponry. He liked the way that some of them were stacked, as they gave him a secure hiding spot. He again lay down, thinking fondly back on the pounds of fresh meat he had just devoured.

  29

  Deneaux

  “Everything is ready,” Corporal Amells told Deneaux. She was sitting at her desk staring at a half-empty glass of brandy. Her entire demeanor had changed after she’d spoken on the radio with Captain Talbot. Amells wondered what the man could have possibly said that had kowtowed her so thoroughly; maybe he’d ask, if given the chance. “One more thing…the satellite has gone dark.”

  “Dark?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We can no longer get a signal. It’s likely that Bennington’s sabotage has finally come to full fruition.”

  “I don’t like how coincidental that is, but it makes no difference. I’ll be back in a week.”

  Amells had watched Deneaux lie on dozens of occasions with the greatest of conviction; not once had her words seemed anything other than true. Right now, however, her lie was as amateurish as a toddler saying he’d not eaten the cookies as the telltale crumbs fell from his mouth and his fingers were stained with chocolate.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He was not going to call her on it. No sense in her ordering his execution as her last act as base commander.

  “Corporal Amells, you’ve been…” She was searching for the right word; not used to praising others, it was difficult for her. “You’ve been helpful during these trying times. Your candor and discretion are beyond reproach. I appreciate that.”

  “Just doing my duty,” he told her. Normally Deneaux was intimidating and downright scary, but still, he’d take that version over the softened shell she was fronting right now.

  30

  Mike Journal Entry 17

  I was startled awake by a heavy rapping on my door. My guard dog, Henry, didn’t stir. Riley padded up; she was bristled as she stood between me and the noise.

  “Talbot, get your ass up!” Riley relaxed upon recognizing BT’s voice; it had the opposite effect on me.

  I pushed up, stood, and opened the door.

  “I’m not sure how you always look worse after a night of sleep.”

  “You’re assuming I slept,” I told him.

  “You need to see this.” He had turned and was heading away. “Might want to put some pants on first, and just let me say thank you for answering the door with boxers on.”

  “You want to tell me what I want to see before I come with you?”

  “Walde has a tablet with some video from the ship.”

  My heart sank. I was thinking that the clean-up crew had stumbled upon some new enemy and we would be tasked with getting rid of it. I could not be faulted for taking my time getting dressed. No one gleefully quick-times it to the executioner’s chair.

  “What the hell took you so long?” BT and Walde were sitting at a small table huddled around an electronic device.

  “It looks like she took the bait!” Walde was smiling as she turned the thing around so I could see the video.

  “They’re loading a plane,” I said, taking hold of the device. On its own, it didn’t prove anything, but if there’s smoke… “Does this show them taking off?”

  “No. We lose the feed in another ten minutes, but you’re going to want to watch what happens next.

  “My son once made me watch a twelve-minute video on YouTube about some stupid unicorn; I’m still a little salty about the time wasted. All I’m seeing is the back of a transport plane.” I was attempting to hand it back to Walde.

  “Another minute, Mike. You’re going to want to see it.”

  It was another two minutes of absolutely nothing. I might as well have been looking at a picture within a frame for the lack of movement. I almost dropped the tablet when I saw something. “What the fuck is that? That a gorilla?” I looked up at a smiling BT. “I don’t know what’s going on,” I said, having a hard time tearing my eyes away from the small screen. “Wait….is that even possible? I think that’s the gorilla from the Demense Group building. Oggy? Eggy? Something with g’s in its name. But how? Why? Does Deneaux have that thing under her control? It tried to kill her once and like a dumbass, I interceded.”

  “I don’t think it’s hers,” Walde said. “Its movements as it approaches the plane are furtive; it’s being cautious.”

  I had so many questions—I wanted to slam the tablet down when the feed cut. “That’s it?” I looked up.

  “All we’ve got for now.” Walde took it away from me before I could destroy it. “The ship will track the plane, let us know where it went, and then Eastman is going to follow.”

  “It’d be nice if we could see her boarding,” BT said.

  I agreed with him, but the likelihood of that good fortune in timing was…unlikely. I sat on the beach alone for the next couple of hours. I wanted to go home, to be with my wife, the kids, the animals; the only thing preventing me was the twisted gray mass lodged between my ears. I was having a harder and harder time acting normal during normal times. I had been rewired, always on edge, ready to kill with little-to-no warning. Constantly scanning for threats and how to avoid or eliminate them. Even during the relaxing brunch the day before, I had sat opposite the door so I could see anyone come in or even passing by. What does it say about someone if they cannot even enjoy some scrambled eggs without having a contingency plan?

  “Hey, Mike,” it was BT. “Mind if I sit?”

  “Who’s going to tell you no?” I asked without lo
oking up.

  “Deneaux has landed somewhere in Nebraska.”

  “Nebraska? Strange place.”

  “Either that’s all the fuel they had or she figures you’d never expect her to go there. Eastman’s in pre-flight; says he’ll be leaving in half an hour with or without you.”

  Now I looked over. “Did he have someone tell you?”

  “No. I think he was planning on leaving before you caught wind.”

  “Why? Doesn’t he enjoy my company?”

  “You cannot be that blatantly ignorant.”

  “I’m delightful.”

  “There’s something else, and it may be why he wasn’t going to tell you, and seriously, Mike, I hope you take this to heart. No wisecrack?”

  “You haven’t given me anything to think about yet.”

  “The fuel they have for the plane, let’s just say it isn’t high-grade.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means it might be chugging along like a ’75 Ford Pinto but at twelve thousand feet.”

  “Makes no difference.” I went to stand. BT grabbed my arm and pulled me back to the sand.

  “Listen, man, we’ve all changed, there’s no way around it. But buddy, brother, you’re maybe slipping a little further away than the rest of us. Like, I think you’re actively trying to find ways to leave.”

  “What are you talking about?” I went with the indignant denial.

  “You volunteer for every mission, even that last one with the Etna camp. You should have brought the whole squad—or not gone at all.”

  “Maybe it’s that I don’t trust anyone else, or…not even that, BT. It’s that I can’t stand the thought of someone else dying if there’s anything I can do about it. I would much rather risk my life than have to deal with the aftermath of another death. I am losing the capacity to cope with it. Does that make sense?” I looked at him with what I’m sure was desperation.

  “I wish it didn’t.” He leaned over and gave me a hug.

  “While I appreciate the gesture, we’ve been like this for longer than is considered socially acceptable, and if I didn’t know better, I would think you were either going to ask me to marry you or going to try and hold me here long enough to miss the flight.”

  “It could work.”

  I pried myself away; he was reluctant to let go.

  “I’m coming with,” he said.

  I paused. “Are you sure?”

  “No, I’m not sure. We’re going to be flying in a plane with budget fuel carrying and hopefully dropping a nuclear bomb. I’m not sure at all. But if you’re going, so am I.”

  “Are you trying to get me to stay back?”

  “Is it working?”

  “BT.”

  “Then we’re going to see this out together,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we went to catch our ride.

  An hour later, we were more or less streaking toward our destination. I couldn’t keep my eyes off our cargo.

  31

  Deneaux

  There were very few people aboard what Deneaux considered her escape pod—just enough to keep her safe and in relative comfort. She had an entire aisle to herself as she sipped on a mimosa. She was looking out the window at the bland landscape passing far below.

  “Ma’am, as I said earlier, we don’t have enough fuel to get very far into Kansas. To be safe, I’d like to land in Nebraska, Lincoln Airport, to be specific. It’s far enough away from Omaha and any dense population center.” Major Brigham, the co-pilot, pulled her away from her thoughts.

  “I would think anyone that had decided to live in Nebraska would be dense.” The snide comment was out of her mouth before she even thought upon the words. She’d never been one to filter her remarks, and they flowed forth now. The captain kept staring at her. “Fine, Nebraska, Kansas, one shithole is as good as another.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. When they landed two hours later, she was in a more foul mood than when they’d left. Relinquishing power was not something she was used to, and handing it over to that idiot Talbot made it doubly craw-sticking. “No bother. I’ll rebuild, and when I do, you can bet your sweet ass, Michael, I’ll be coming for you.”

  “Ma’am?” it was Corporal Kerringer; he’d been assigned to her security detail.

  “If you can hear me talking, you’re too close. Go away.” She climbed down the stair ramp and onto the tarmac. The plane had attracted some of the less than desirables, who, for now, were trapped behind the airport fence and could only watch from afar. Deneaux touched the pistol strapped to her hip, she thought about a little .45 caliber therapy but decided against it. Just because the zombies weren’t inside yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t find a way, if there were enough of them. She did a slow three-sixty, looking at the flatness and desolation of the area they found themselves in. She wondered if she’d made the right decision, that, perhaps, she should have used whatever munitions they’d still had available and launched them against the aircraft carrier. “Strange to think that so many people from the small area around Little Turtle would be playing such big roles in these end-times. If only you were a little smarter, or a little dumber, Michael, I could have ruled with you by my side. Of course, you’d be lower on the pole, but there are benefits to being a boot licker.” She smiled at the thought, and absently flicked her ashes on the ground.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Corporal! Piss off. Go pop some pimples on that pock-marked thing you call a face. Makes me sick just to look upon you.”

  He scowled and moved farther away but did not altogether leave.

  She turned when she heard footsteps approaching. She lightly fingered her pistol; if it was that damned corporal, she would contemplate piercing some of his acne in an extreme manner. Instead, it was Major Vedner, the pilot, who was walking toward her.

  “Ma’am, it would appear that the zombies are lighter here than we could have hoped for. It is my suggestion that we stay the night. I will send out a team in the morning to secure ground transportation.”

  “Send them out now.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Come now, Major, those were all small words and you must have a modicum of intelligence or you wouldn’t be able to fly a plane, although, there is an auto-pilot, so how difficult can it be? Send them out now. I want to be traveling in the morning. I do not trust my adversary to not make a move; I have underestimated him time and time again, and now I find myself on the losing end. I wish to be far from this place come noontime tomorrow.”

  “Are you talking about Captain Talbot? He cannot possibly know where we are, and what purpose would it serve for him to come?”

  “Avenge or revenge, take your pick. I fear that perhaps I have pushed him too far, and now he will not rest until I am dealt with.”

  “I met the captain, talked with him a few times. He didn’t seem like that type of person.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about him. Yes, I’m sure you have many more questions about what I may have done to set him down this evil path, but I’m done answering. Get the vehicles. Come dawn, I want to be on the road. Is that clear?”

  It would be dark soon, and he did not like the idea of sending a team out into the unknown. The major hesitated for long moments before acquiescing.

  Deneaux knew that military personnel were conditioned to take orders and, like a good little soldier, the major would do as he was told. She could only hope he would at no point question her authority, because she ruled by force of will only. Worked well enough within a domestic household, but wasn’t always sustainable out in the real world, especially now, in the midst of an apocalypse. “Stay the course, Major, and I won’t need to rearrange your brains,” she said softly to his retreating back.

  A few minutes later, she watched a team of five men depart on foot. She stayed where she was until she’d smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. By the time she was finished, night had descended. She contemplated going back into the plane and g
etting some rest; her reflection ended with the unraveling of the cellophane covering on her next pack.

  32

  Iggy

  The great ape awoke and stretched his arms. He yawned and then immediately covered his mouth as he realized something was different—not wrong, just different. The air; it was much dryer and cleaner, and he could not smell the stench of the dead. He peered around the corner of the crate he’d been sleeping behind. It was dark, but his sight had greatly improved after the doctors had injected him with their poison. He saw three portions of on-the-hoof meat resting, not that far away from him. From their even breathing, he could tell they were all asleep. He was angry they were in his home uninvited, but sometimes the best surprises come unannounced. He appreciated humor and irony, especially when he was not on the receiving end. He moved, slowly, cautiously, spotting the firearms nearby. He would need to kill them quietly before they could react to his presence. He paused, hearing some noise come from outside. There were more men, and more men meant more danger.

  When his stomach rumbled, he moved into action, grabbing the head of the nearest and twisting the neck violently, snapping it to the side. The next stirred but did not awaken as Iggy repeated the death-dealing blow. He would have awakened the third as he was chewing through his femur, but he still had those to deal with outside. He was angered that they were interrupting his meal, and this hostility was transferred to his next victim, as he wrenched the man’s head back and forth before ripping it clean from the body. He bared his teeth at the shocked expression of the fully awake human as he held the severed head before him. He threw it against the ground, hard enough to cause the bones in the skull to break.

  “Shut up back there! I’m trying to sleep,” a fourth, a female, said from further up. Iggy had not seen her, and now had a slight concern for how many more he may have missed. Two more bodies turned to meat, then he was certain the rest of the plane was clear. He wanted to kill those outside so he could eat while his food was still warm. It wasn’t that he disliked cold food, but rather he liked to think the people he ate while they were warm were still suffering; it was payback of a sorts. A delicious one, he signed before exiting the plane.