by Mark Tufo
Chapter 3
Mike Journal Entry 3
“We might be able to help, Jason. I can’t guarantee anything at this point, but if our plane can get repaired and we can get to it…then I can get you back to Etna. At that point, it’s still up to the commander at Etna Station. We don’t have the resources to take everyone in. It’s a pay-to-stay type of situation, hence this uniform,” I said, pulling at my camouflage utilities.
“Just my son. I don’t care about myself, just him. If he can make it, I’ll consider it a victory.”
“Some might be turned away, but worst case scenario, they’ll get cleaned up, new clothes, some food and the perimeter of the base is a relatively safe place. Personally, that’s the best I can offer. I’m fairly low on the totem pole myself.”
“Hey, Mike.” Gary was at the doorway, leaning against the frame. I wanted to smile at his outfit, looked like a mascot for some minor league baseball team in his bright M&M’s clothing, but it was easy enough to see he was in a great amount of discomfort.
“How you doing, brother?”
“It hurts, even through the haze of the pills. Winters wants to see you.”
“He could have come here, you didn’t need to do it.”
“Hurts more to lie down.”
I could understand that; weren’t many parts of his body that weren’t scraped raw. Lying on those bits would be like recuperating from a sunburn inside a sandpaper sleeping bag.
“Is he coming?” I asked.
“He wants to talk to you alone.”
“If you’ll excuse me.” I stood and waited for Gary to move away; I didn’t want to rub up against him accidentally. He was following, albeit very slowly. Winters was in the far corner of the church, talking into his handset.
“Roger that,” he said before turning to me. “That was Major Eastman. They have more damage than they originally thought.”
“Still no comm with Etna?”
Winters shook his head.
“ETA on repairs?”
“That’s the thing…without parts, it’s indefinite.”
“Fuck. I told Bennington coming to the East Coast was a bad idea! Too far away from any help. Okay, so, what are our options?” I was thinking out loud. “There’s got to be a radio station or television studio around here; would we be able to broadcast something to them?”
Winters was thinking on it. “We’d need to get a backup generator for power, but the communication satellites are still up there. No reason to think they wouldn’t still be working. Etna monitors all bands. We still have a small continent’s worth of zombies outside, though, before we can get anywhere.”
“We’ll add that to our list of growing problems. These people are starving; we’re going to need to get them some food and water. How’s Harmon?”
“I think she might be in shock. She’s got a raw patch on her head I’m sure is going to hurt for a while, but that’ll heal long before she gets over this.”
“Anything else I should be aware of?”
“I think that about covers it.”
“Thanks.” I went with him to check on Private Harmon. Corporal Stenzel and PFC Grimm were both with her and they were talking. They stopped when they saw me coming. I motioned with my head for the other two to leave. “How you doing?” I sat on the pew next to Harmon.
“Good to go, sir,” she said without ever looking up.
“This isn’t a psych eval, Private. I’m genuinely concerned about your well-being.”
She was wringing her hands in her lap; she took a moment before pulling her head up to look at me. “Scared shitless, sir.”
“About the normal reaction. It would be a lot crazier if you weren’t.”
“Like, so scared, I’m not sure I’m ever going to be able to leave this seat. I feel like I might be losing my mind.”
“Again, normal response, Harmon. You did good out there.” She rolled her eyes at me. “You’re alive, right? I’m alive. We made it. Keep talking with your friends and remember ‘almost dead’ and ‘actually dead’ are two vastly different states of being. You can have some downtime when we get back, but sooner rather than later, I’m going to need you and your impressive shooting skills perched up high.” I pointed to the balcony that overlooked the congregation. “You’re going to be my sniper while we try to find a way out of here.”
“Are you sure, sir?” She held up her hands; they were trembling.
“Anything I can help with?” Jason had come our way. The rest of the congregation, I use that word for lack of a better one, mostly ignored us. I think it had to do with the hunger or just the fact of having been stuck in here since the beginning. You could be bunkered in the Taj Mahal and still lose your mind not being able to go out. Or maybe they were still flat-out suspicious; at this moment it wasn’t a puzzle I was overly worried about solving.
“Unless you have an easier way to get out of here so we can get to the NBC studio, probably not.” I’d meant it more as an aside; his delay and hesitation in not responding had me thinking otherwise.
“There’s a passageway from Times Square to Rockefeller Center.” He licked his lips.
BT had assisted Gary and was now with our burgeoning group. By assist, I mean he walked behind him to make sure my brother didn’t fall; he did not prop him up because there was no safe place to grab hold of him.
“Want me to have Winters give you another pill? Maybe you can get some sleep. You make me hurt just looking at you,” I told him.
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” he responded.
“Harmon, can you go get him one? Thank you.”
“I know that shortcut. A lot of folks use it when it’s cold out. If I remember correctly, that’s maybe a block away, though.” BT thought back on the old haunts.
“One of the entrances is across the street,” Jason replied.
“That might as well be a country mile,” I said.
“Do you even know what that means? Or are you just making up some bullshit analogy?” BT asked.
“Country mile, right? They’re longer because of trees and shit,” I said.
“What I thought.” BT looked triumphant.
“Archbishop Francis Joseph Spellman detested the cold,” Jason said, seemingly out of the blue, but there was something else there.
“And?”
Again he was hesitant.
“Why are you stalling?” BT was looking down on the man with all his mass tensed and ready to pounce. I’m sure we could have forced it out of him, but I was hoping he’d give it up willingly.
“Do you understand why I don’t want to talk?”
“I don’t. If you’ve got an alternate way out of here, I think you should tell us. Your people are starving; the situation in here is not sustainable. Plus, if we get out of here and get a message to our people, we can evac you all.”
“You yourself said they might not be able to take us all in. Then what?”
He’d just ten minutes ago said if his son was safe then nothing else mattered. “Still a fresh start,” I answered. “I bet if I go and ask those people if they want to die here or try somewhere new, we’ll get a lot of takers.”
“But if you know the other way in you could…”
“We could what, Jason? The three people you had guarding us are all sitting down, doing their own things. Only one is even looking our way, and he put his pistol down beside him. I have eleven highly trained military people here with a variety of automatic weapons. I give one word and we own this building in less than ten seconds. Doubt me? Go on and take stock.”
He stood. The woman who had seemed so cross at us in the beginning was asleep. The second guy was trying to read a book, but his head kept dropping and he nodded off, and the third who’d been somewhat cognizant of the situation was staring up at the stained glass, looking lost. My team, on the other hand, was alert, armed, and strategically placed almost entirely around them.
“As I told you before, I don’t want to harm anyone
and I’m not looking to take over your sanctuary. We’re all very grateful you opened the doors. We are who I say we are, and there’s a chance I can get help for all of us. Food and some clothing, at the minimum. But I can’t do anything from here. Now I’ll do my best to fight our way through the front, but, like you, I’m very protective of my people and that would not be my first inclination–not if there’s a safer way.”
He sighed. “You’re right, I know you’re right. We’ve just been isolated in here for so long we’ve become distrustful of everything on the outside. Come on, I’ll show you.”
We ended up in a large bedroom. I saw more red, crushed velvet there than I have in my entire life. The bed was enormous; looked like two kings sewn together.
“Not trying to go anywhere with this, but why would a man who has taken a vow of celibacy need a bed that could hold a harem?” I asked.
“Fuck, Talbot! You got all the class of a shitting gopher,” BT said.
“Yeah, and country mile was a bad analogy,” I replied.
“Archbishop Spellman had four dogs; the only time they weren’t by his side was during mass,” Jason filled us in.
“I think I like this Spellman guy,” I said.
“Archbishop,” Jason corrected me. “He used to complain about getting crowded out of his bed; he had this specially made. Funny, though, according to his memoirs, they still crowded around him.”
“Can we get the tour moving?” BT seemed antsy.
“You alright?” I asked as Jason traversed the room.
“Not a big church fan. Last time I was in one was to bury a girl I’d shot; I don’t like being reminded of it,” BT said.
“Gotcha, brother. We’ll get out of here soon enough.”
Jason was standing next to a bookshelf full of tomes. If I had to guess, I’d say there was about a metric ton of paper and binding there. The entire unit swung outwards effortlessly.
The kid in me loved the idea of a hidden entrance like that. The cynic in me wondered what nefarious purposes it had been used for. Hanging from the back of the bookshelf was a skeleton key; it looked like it belonged to a Medieval castle in England, or maybe to that castle’s dungeon. It was huge, about half the size of my forearm.
“I don’t want to state the obvious, but if you guys are starving why didn’t you go out through here to forage for supplies?” I asked.
“Oh, we did…did all right at first, too. Most of the places in the underground tunnel were offices and they had fridges and vending machines; held us over pretty good. But once we went through those stores and had to venture back out onto the streets, that’s when we started losing people. It got to the point there were so many people who never came back we couldn’t get anyone else to go looking. It was a death sentence; might as well have asked them to walk the final steps to the electric chair.”
“Just like The Green Mile,” BT said out of left field.
“Could you maybe reel yourself back in?” I asked my gunney.
“It was a good book and movie; pretty sure I could have played John Coffey.”
“I could see that. He was a lot nicer, though. Wait a sec,” I said to Jason, who placed the key into the lock. “What’s on the other side?” I had my rifle nearly at the ready, as did BT.
“A fortified tunnel under 5th Ave.”
“That’s pretty impressive. How’d they pull that off? Ordinances, permits…I can’t imagine anyone getting permission to do that,” BT frowned.
“Archdiocese in the ’50s could have put a casino in the church if they wanted,” Jason told us. “Getting a small tunnel dug so that the Archbishop could go to his favorite bagel shop without getting snowed on was nothing. That was his outward reasoning, anyway. Actually, he hated his dogs’ paws getting wet and cold.”
“I hope that guy got sainthood,” I replied.
“Archbishop,” Jason said again.
“So, is this the way your people were going out?” I asked.
“Not all the time.”
“Is there any reason to think there’s anything…hostile on the other side of that door?” I asked.
“Not likely, but that changes once you get across the street and open that door.”
I noticed he said “you” and not “us.” I imagined if he hadn’t been chasing his son he wouldn’t have come out at all, and most likely, that was the first time he’d had direct sunlight hit him in a very long time.
“BT, what can we expect?”
“The tunnel is fairly long, goes from 5th to 7th. I’m thinking it’s going to be dark. It’s not some small passageway; it’s like a mall down there, wide as a street. Plenty of places for people and things to hide.”
“Hold off, Jason. We need to figure this out. It’s gonna take more than two of us, and I still might opt for the more direct approach.”
“Ammo, Mike; we didn’t bring a bunch and we lost some. This was supposed to be a quick in and out mission.”
“Yeah, I know that, but have you ever seen the movie Descent?”
“Descent? That the crazy cave movie? How does that apply?”
I didn’t answer him.
“Oh…thanks for that,” he said when he got it. “I would have been much better off had you not mentioned that.”
“Me too.” We went back out to the rest of the squad.
Jason was off tending to his flock while I sat with my team. I wasn’t a fan of dividing our forces, but I didn’t want to have a large group doing this, and I could not take Gary along.
“Gunney, I want to take you, Winters, you as well, because you’re our comm expert. Anyone can get a broadcast out it’s going to be you.”
He nodded.
“Tommy?”
Of course, Mr. T, I mean, Lieutenant, sir.”
I wanted Tommy because he was the most capable warrior in the group–especially in close combat–which looked like it might be the case. “Stenzel, I want you with us. Corporal Rose, that puts you in charge back here. I don’t think there will be any trouble with the natives, but if you have an uprising, you put it down quickly.”
“Deadly force authorized, sir?” she asked.
“It won’t come to that, Rose, but use the zip ties if you need to. PFC Grimm, you’re with us. The rest of you stay alert. And keep an eye on those doors; that the zombies aren’t trying to break them in has me on edge. If something should happen, you get everyone into that tunnel. We clear?”
“Sir, I’d like to go as well.” Private Harmon was looking directly at me. I held contact with her gaze. I wanted to give her some time to collect herself after her harrowing ordeal; I got the idea of getting back up the horse and all, but I couldn’t afford to bail her out if she froze in combat. I didn’t ask if she was sure because that would have shown the rest of the group, I doubted her ability, and once I did that, none of them would trust her. The stakes were too high to have reservations about a comrade in arms.
“All right. Grimm, you’re sitting this one out.”
“I’m ready to go, sir.”
“I know you are and hold on to the gung-ho attitude. We’re going to need it soon enough. We’ll stay in constant radio contact. If you don’t hear from us for over twenty-four hours, assume the worst. Hold out here until the zombies dissipate, then make a go for the airfield in Stewart Air National Guard Base. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” from the rest in varying shades of enthusiasm.
“Corporal Rose, I want you to set up a schedule for the secret door; I want it manned the entire time we’re gone. I don’t trust Jason to open it up if he feels we’re in trouble, I’d feel much better if we had one of our own on the other side.”
“On it, sir.”
“Okay, those coming with, gear up and meet me in the Archbishop’s bedroom in five.”
“Sir, we’d all appreciate it if you came back.” Corporal Rose had stayed behind to deliver the words.
“Just covering bases…it is fully my intention to do so. Keep everything in order here a
nd we’ll be back before you know it.” I turned to the front; Harmon was in front of the altar on her knees saying a prayer. Her file had her listed as an agnostic; couldn’t blame her, though. She was covering her bases as well. I went and knelt next to her; no sense in leaving a message unsent, even if I thought no one was home and wouldn’t be picking up mail for a while. I got up wordlessly; she followed a moment later.
BT handed me an extra magazine. I nodded and put it away.
“Everyone check their lights?” I was doing my best not to notice how Harmon’s light was shaking on the wall as she tested it.
BT looked over to me, skepticism regarding her mission readiness all over his face. Trust me, I had the same reservations. If I took her off this mission, there was a good chance she would be through. She’d think herself into the depths of doubt. But I had to balance what she was going through with the safety of the rest of the team. Leading people into combat situations was never really something I’d aspired to, and right now I knew exactly why. She shut her light off when she realized most of us had been looking.
“Deep breaths, people. We all have each other’s back. Single file in the passageway, and we stay tight once we get into this mall tunnel or whatever the hell it is. Clear? I’ll go first.”
“Excuse me, sir, but I’ll do it.” Stenzel checked to make sure her gear was tight.
If I was a true officer, I would have put Harmon in the lead as the lowest ranking among us. I just fundamentally could not put people in danger ahead of myself. It went against everything ingrained within me. I nodded curtly to her, my lips pressed tight; I did what procedure dictated.
“You ready?” Jason was fumbling with the key. He turned the lock; the light from the bedroom didn’t penetrate more than a few feet into the well of darkness. Anything could have been ten feet away and we’d never know. My muscles tensed as I awaited the worst. Stenzel’s light blazed down the majority of the small tunnel; I was happy to note there were no creatures from my childhood waiting to reach out and pull me into their nightmares, no red balloons and more importantly, no clowns. I was expecting that the tunnel would be this rough-hewn hole in the earth, the shovel marks of the laborers still visible–something more akin to what inmates in a maximum-security prison would dig to escape the confines their actions had landed them in. What I was looking at was a straight, tiled, sidewalk-sized walkway that, in better times, I’m sure looked downright pleasant. Stenzel went in, immediately followed by Tommy, then Harmon. I plucked the key from a reluctant Jason before I followed, then Winters and BT brought up the rear. I figured he should go last just in case he got wedged tight like a wine cork, and I said as much. He didn’t think it was funny, which is funny, because everyone else did.
