<><><><>
Rigs ended up joining forces with Jack, clearing the rest of the street and beginning the third.
There were still more dead than usual and taking over a house wasn’t the best idea. They would be too vulnerable.
The RV was pretty sound. It was reinforced, safe, no one really had to stay up all night to take watch.
Jack wasn’t a bad guy, at least Rigs didn’t think so and he was skilled. Especially with lasso and trick shooting.
“I’ll report in later,” Rigs said in reference to Jack asking about command. “Let me ask you this, were all the guys on your team as good as you?”
“They were all the best. I don’t think I’m all that good. I just think we all have different cool skills.”
“That lasso thing.”
Jack waved out his hand. “Only works when you’re up higher.” He pointed to a small house. “One more?”
“Yeah, why not. I haven’t heard any screaming so maybe Bill does know what he’s doing.”
“If he does, I think I’ll get him to chop mine.” They approached the single story, ranch style house and Jack walked to the easiest window to access it. He knocked on it a few times and looked in. “Clear.”
Rigs turned the knob and pushed it open. Exercising caution he stepped inside.
Chirp.
The house smelled musty, but it lacked the smell of death that many did.
“Bet this one is empty,” Jack said.
Chirp.
“Sounds it,” Rigs replied.
“Looks it. Pictures are missing from the wall.” Jack pointed. “They took off.”
“We know they weren’t attacked here.”
Chirp.
“Wanna take the back bedrooms or should I?” Jack asked.
“I’ll take them. You do the kitchen.” He turned down the small hall off of the living room. “See if there’s a basement, we’ll hit that together.”
“I don’t think there is. Garage is connected to the kitchen, but I’ll look.”
Chirp.
The noise grew louder, as Rigs inched his way down the hall.
“Time to change the batteries,” Jack called out.
“I’ll find it,” Rigs said, approaching the bedroom on the right. The door was slightly closed.
Chirp.
“Damn smoke detector,” Rigs said. “It’s gonna drive me nuts.”
He pushed the door opened with his foot. Slowly exposing a bright pink, little girl’s room.
“That’s not the smoke detector,” Jack said. “That’s a CO2 detector.”
Chirp.
The empty and dusty little girl’s room with Barbies scattered about took Rigs back.
Suddenly it wasn’t empty, a little girl sat on the floor.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, Baby.”
“What’s that noise?”
“That’s the one detector, Daddy needs to change the battery.”
“You better do it, it will drive me crazy,” she said.
“I will,” Rigs told her. “When I get back.”
Chirp.
Rigs snapped out of it and stepped back. The chirping was loud and he spun to his left.
The CO2 detector was at the end of the hall.
He walked to it and lifted his rifle, spinning it butt outward.
Chirp.
“She was at her mothers, it’s a … it’s a long drive,” Rigs sat on his sofa, face buried in his hands. “She took the kids.”
“They pulled in late,” the detective told him. “She carried the kids in, put them to bed. She never shut off the car. It looks like she fell asleep on the couch. The last text to her mom indicated she was home, safe and tired.”
Rigs nodded sadly.
“Mr. Rigs, if it’s any consolation, this was an accident, they died in their sleep.”
“Would a working CO2 detector have saved them.”
“Don’t do this to yourself. Most homes don’t have …”
“Would it?” Rigs asked strong.
“It’s hard to say … I won’t say.”
Chirp.
Smash!
He brought the butt of the rifle down against the detector, then hit it again and again.
“Wow,” Jack said. “You weren’t kidding it would drive you nuts.”
Rigs stared at the destroyed detector and the hole in the wall.
“You okay?” Jack asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, sometimes I … I just have to do that.”
“Um … sure.” Jack gave him a swat to the back. “You ready? It’s all clear here.”
Rigs nodded. “Let’s go back to the RV.”
FOURTEEN
Rigs had a certain squeal to his voice as he tried to keep it in check when he yelled out, “Where the hell is the RV?”
They arrived back at the meeting spot, right where they left everyone and the RV was gone.
“Where would they go?” Rigs asked Jack.
“I think the better question should be, why would they leave and not tell you?”
“You’re right.” Rigs lifted his radio. “Barry or Kasper, come in.”
“What’s up?” Barry asked.
“You guys alright?”
“We’re fine. Are you?”
Rigs rolled his eyes slightly, lowered the phone, took a second then lifted it. It was an aloof way to answer the question, and Barry was rarely if ever aloof. “Barry, where’s the RV?”
“Didn’t Kasper radio you?”
“No, he did not.”
“We had an errand to run.”
“An errand?”
“Bill needed some items and we drove to the Super Clips.”
Rigs nodded and looked at Jack. “They drove to the Super Clips.”
“I heard,” Jack said.
Rigs spoke in the radio. “Barry? Super Clips?”
“It was one of those bargain hair salons. We went to the one in the strip mall off the highway.”
“I know what Super Clips is. How long ago did you leave?”
“Not long …” Barry paused. “Ah, gees, almost two hours ago. No worries, hang tight. We’ll be right back.”
Rigs wanted to say more, snap at them for leaving, but instead he merely said over and hooked his radio to his belt.
“Super Clips,” Jack said. “Maybe he is a hair stylist.”
“Or a big con artist. So you heard him. He said to hang tight.”
“I guess we hang tight,” Jack said.
And they did.
For three more hours.
Rigs sat on the curb on the main street in town while Jack ‘foraged’, as he called it, at a nearby coffee shop.
“You won’t find anything,” Rigs said. “Sweep teams usually sweep the stores.”
“I thought clean up did that,” Jack told him. “You know when they come through and rebuild. I have never once been to a town that’s been cleaned out.”
“I never looked. We have food and water,” Rigs said. “There was never a need to look.”
“You were never stranded by your team so they could do their hair?”
“True.”
Jack actually found a lot of snacks, organic stuff that was far from fresh. He shared it with Rigs while they waited.
When the RV finally did pull back up, they all unloaded as if they had just done something out of the ordinary.
With his hair in a good men’s cut, Barry looked as dapper business like just as he had the day they landed in Nassau. Kasper was trimmed and clean cut. Sandy’s hair, which had been straggly was neat and pretty. Rachel looked like a completely different person.
When Rigs met her, her hair was already slightly longer than shoulder length. Without a cut or trim, it quickly grew long. Now her hair was short on the sides and back, the top of her hair was long and styled wild like.
“Wow, Rach, you really did go short,” Rigs said when she emerged from the bus.
“I didn’t really have a choice,” Rachel repl
ied.
“Well, yeah, you could have left it.”
“I don’t think so. I like it,” Rachel said. “I feel really good right now. Sandy?”
“Oh,” Sandy said. “I haven’t felt this positive in a while.”
“See?” Rachel asked. “Bill has talent.”
Rigs touched her hair, “Feels weird.”
She pushed his hand away. “It’s the product and stop.”
“I think she looks great,” Kasper said. “Like a less lesbian Captain Marvel look.”
“It’s just crazy,” Rigs said. “I mean with all that’s going on. Why bother?”
“Uh in case she goes to Center City,” Kasper said. “I hear they’re all normal.”
“I hear they have a Starbucks,” Jack added.
“Have you been there?” Kasper asked.
Jack shook his head. “No, I hear that’s where all good eliminators go to retire.”
“God!” Rigs griped. “What is wrong with everyone? Do you guys realize we’re battling the walking dead? We do not need to worry about our hair. They got highlights.”
“Low lights,” Rachel corrected.
“Same difference,” Rigs said.
“Oh, I big to differ,” Rachel told him.
“Rigs,” Jack said his name with a slight chuckle. “So what? It’s a dead world. Everything is ugly. They look great. They feel good about themselves. Let them be women.”
“Thank you, Jack,” Rachel said.
“What?” Rigs asked. “What the hell does that mean? Let them be woman.” He looked at Rachel. “And why aren’t you calling him a sexist?”
“Because he’s not, he’s observant. Come on, Sandy, we should see if we can find something new to wear, enjoy feeling good about ourselves until someone tears us down.” She gave a scolding look to Rigs and walked by him. “Kasper, you want to come?”
Kasper shrugged. “Sure.”
“Am I missing something?” Rigs asked, shouting to them as they walked off. “We have dead to kill!”
“Let it go,” Barry told him. “Honestly, it’s a good day. Rachel is really smiling.”
“You’re right.” Rigs nodded. He looked up to see Bill standing in the open door of the RV.
Bill held up clippers and scissors, looked at Rigs with a, “Eh?”
“Sure.” Rigs lifted his hands. “Why not.” He handed his rifle to Jack and went into the RV with Bill.
FIFTEEN
Riverside, Iowa
Three Weeks Later
The final sweep of the town two days earlier confirmed the team had eliminated all the visible dead in the area.
The Command Center hadn’t answered the satellite phone for check in. The last Rigs had talked to them was ten days after they arrived in Riverside and set up the safe house at the Casino.
He worried that something had happened, that it all broke down. It was conceivable. After all the world pretty much came to a grinding halt in less than a week. Command Center falling in ten days was a probability.
He told the team they were giving it another day and then they’d need to figure out what to do.
Jack suggested they head to Cameron Kansas, home of the latest survivor city and wait there.
Of course, Rigs knew there was more to that. Cameron was where they took the six bus loads of people that left St. Louis.
Rigs grew more confident that he was right, and the conspiracy theory of Rachel and Jack was off. Especially since Bill kept tweaking the story. The only thing that was consistent was everyone turned and he narrowly escaped. How long it took changed, even the story that they were all locked in one building had transformed. He likened a lot of that to Rachel’s interpretation. But after three weeks with Bill, they were starting to understand him.
Rigs looked forward to going to Cameron. Just because the government was helping people didn’t mean it had sinister undertones and he wanted his team to see that.
And it would be nice to see what a survivor city was like.
He envisioned in his mind the makings of an old west town, where folks went back to basics and set up street vendors to share and barter goods.
Seeing Cameron Survivor City was a goal and one Rigs knew they would reach by the middle of the day.
He knew their time in Riverside was officially over when the large military dump trucks rolled in.
That was always the sign.
Usually it was preceded by a satellite phone call from Command, telling them the trucks were coming and informing them of the next location.
The four trucks rolled into the parking lot of the casino. Rigs was loading the RV when they stopped.
The others on the team must have heard them because they gathered around.
A big guy, one Rigs didn’t recognize, stepped from the lead truck. He carried a clipboard and wasn’t wearing a uniform. Usually those who worked for Command wore a uniform whether they were military or not.
He was a stereotypical ‘boss man’, with slightly protruding gut, balding head and unlit cigar dangling from his mouth as he talked.
“Rigs,” he called out. “Looking for Rigs.”
While the seven of them stood just outside the casino doors, Rigs was forefront and walked to the man. The team stayed closed.
“I’m Rigs,” he said.
“Hey, there,” the man gave him a hearty handshake. “Herb Rollins, nice to meet you. This your team?”
“Yep.”
“There’s seven?”
Sandy lifted her hand. “I’m not really a team member, just here. I’m a doctor.”
Herb gave a sort of confused look. “A doctor in the field?”
“Say, uh …” Rigs said. “We haven’t been able to get a hold of any command center.”
“Yeah, about that,” Herb said. “They moved farther east. All teams out this way are having trouble making contact, that’s why we’re here. Finish up for you and give you directives.”
“Cool. Thank you,” Rigs said. “Command moved east? Division One?”
“Pretty much all of them, but not my place to say why or really if I have the information to give you. Just supposed to tell you to head to Evansville, Indiana. Command is set up at the Country Health Department.”
Rigs looked back at Rachel. “Hey, Indiana, that near your home?”
“About a hundred miles south. It’s right on the Kentucky border. I’ve been there, they have a great casino,” Rachel said.
“That’s close to home, Rach,” Rigs said.
“Where was home?” Herb asked.
“Terre Haute,” Rachel replied.
Herb sucked in through his teeth. “Hmm. They just pulled teams from there. Pretty bad.”
“Not like I was going there,” Rachel said edgy. “Or wanted to. Thank you for the information though.”
“You’re welcome,” Herb didn’t pick up on the sarcasm. “Nice hair.” He looked down at the clipboard. “Why are there seven of you?”
“We grabbed Bill …” Rigs pointed. “On the road. He’s pretty good.”
Herb nodded. “I don’t have a team name for you. Everyone has a team name.”
Rachel spoke up. “The Eliminators.”
“Hmm. No, cute,” Herb said. “What is the real name?”
Kasper cleared his throat. “Flaming Saffrons.”
Herb pointed his pen. “I like that.” He wrote down. “Okay, good job and good luck to you. We’ll take it from here.”
Rachel huffed.
“What’s wrong?” Rigs asked.
“The name.” She spun to Kasper. “What exactly is the Flaming Saffrons? I asked before and you shrugged.”
“Well,” Kasper answered. “It’s a little embarrassing that I know. The Flaming Saffrons. They were a boy band, they tried to make a comeback?”
Rachel shook her head.
“Didn’t really work. They had a big hit called, Chihuahua Love Not ringing a bell?” Kasper started humming it. “No?”
“No.”
&n
bsp; Kasper turned to Rigs. “You? Do you know them?”
Rigs shook his head. “No.”
“Man, why am I the only one who knows them?” Kasper quickly turned his head to Bill singing or trying to sing the song. “Yes, Bill, yes thank you. I don’t feel so bad now.”
<><><><>
It was out of the way, in the opposite direction, but they set their sights on Cameron.
The trip would take just under four hours if they weren’t running into so many detours.
Cars backed up on the roads, occasionally a lone dead would wander the road, some remained in their cars. Squirming in the seatbelts.
Kasper had a theory.
Rachel thought a lot about that as she drove by those in their cars. He theorized that when the dead first reanimated they retained some of their memory which allowed them to open doors and do other things those who had been risen for a while did not do.
Then again that didn’t explain the ones in the cars.
“Hey,” Rigs said softly, drawing her attention from the window.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing back here?” he asked, referencing her setting alone in the bucket seating in the back.
“Thinking.”
“Can I?” he pointed to the empty seat next to her.
“Sure.”
“Almost there,” he said as he sat down. “Another ten minutes.”
“Then we’ll settle for the night, right?”
“Right.”
“You think the town is fine?” she asked.
“As opposed to them not being fine because they were locked in without food or water?”
Rachel just stared at him.
“Yeah, I think it’s fine. So … thinking about going home?”
“I did. A part of me wants to, then a part of me doesn’t know why. I mean, pictures … the pain.”
“I get it.”
“I know you do. I have my phone. In fact, I have had my phone for four years. I have a lot of pictures on it.”
“So you don’t want to go home?” he asked.
“I’m thinking about it. I’m also thinking about those kids we saw getting on the bus to go to Cameron.”
“What about them?”
“I wonder if they have families. I was thinking, maybe, you know, when things calm down some, maybe taking on a kid or two that lost their parents.’
The Eliminators | Volume 1 Page 11
