YES! MORE!!

Chapter 12

I took a few seconds to catch my breath. The pain in my groin and nose did not subside, but I had to carry on despite it. I could hear Carl yelling at the goon to tie up Kara’s ankles. That made no sense. It did encourage me to give my idea a try. I knew I would only have one chance.

The man behind the counter was much smaller than me. I figured I could easily take him one on one. What I needed was the opportunity to split the two men up so I could take them on one at a time. Fortunately, the goon that held my right arm was still in front of the counter, holding my arm tight.

I struggled with the arm, giving him the impression I was trying to squirm free. Instead, I was really trying to get him to commit his efforts in one direction – which he did. I jerked my arm and made a circle – turning my hand palm up. Then I quit resisting, giving him the feeling that I ‘knew I was not getting loose.’

But the whole plan had been to twist my arm like that. In a sudden move, I lifted my feet off of the ground using my abdominal muscles and at the same time, driving my head backward over the counter. I continued lifting my feel and doing a reverse sit-up until my legs and feet came up, all of the way over my head and all the way down to the ground inside the store-room.

The first goon was so surprised by the move that he completely let go of my arm and tried to get into the store-room. The door, however, was locked. That left me to fight one on one with the store-room keeper. The little man had been thrown back with my reverse flip over the counter.

He lunged at me and I met him with a solid right hand. One punch, that was it. The little man hit the ground hard and his head bounced off of the concrete floor. The impact had a wet and solid smack sound to it, and the man did not move after he hit. I presumed he was either unconscious or dead and I really didn’t care which.

By this time, the second goon had realized he could not unlock the door and so he was diving over the counter after me. We grappled and the fight hit the floor. At this point, I really wished I had paid more attention in the Underground Resistance’s hand-to-hand training. They’d had a class in ground fighting. I had dismissed it as useless in a real fight. But here I was, wrestling for position on the ground.

Then I remembered a move. I had the man on top of me, but my legs were outside his. This was covered and there was a reversal I remembered. I put my right knee and shin across his midsection, at belt level.

He clocked me with a solid punch to the mouth. My lip started to bleed.

I placed my left leg on the ground, next to his right leg. I held his neck in my right hand and my left hand circled over his right arm at the elbow. A quick scissor action from my legs and the move was over before it really began.

I was on top!

The man reached for my face. I punched his. He tried to grab me close, but I remembered to ‘swim’ my hands inside of his and clock him with each movement. He was on the defense now!

A moment of distraction – I saw a dark shape that was familiar. It was my Glock on a shelf – still in the holster. I inched in that direction – wrestling with the goon the entire time. Then he committed both hands to an attempt at an eye-gouge.

I say attempt, because I just sat straight up. His hands could no longer reach my face. However, he was just in punching range for me. So punch I did.

I must have punched the poor man a hundred times. I lost count. I stopped hitting him about eight or ten punches after he stopped moving. I rolled off of him and toward the shelf. It was my Glock, indeed. I snapped the holster to my belt. I had little time to waste.

I made short work of the lock from the inside and stormed down the hall to the room where Carl had Kara captive. The scene that awaited me as I entered will forever be burned into my memory.

The room was fairly dark – being lit by one small light bulb that was old and dim. There were metal shelves all around the edges of the room and all sorts of various and sundry items stored on these shelves. Kara was tied with rope, at the ankles, to the table legs. The table was metal with a wooden top.

‘That’s what he meant when he said to tie her ankles up!’ I thought.

Kara’s pants were down. Her shirt was pulled up. She was completely naked from the chest to the knee, exposing all of her nice parts. Carl had her bent over the table. The goon was at the top of the table, holding Kara’s arms. She was resisting, forcing the goon to hold tight to keep her hands on the table.

At the moment I entered – silently, I might add – Carl had just finished pulling his pants down and exposing himself. He had his organ in his hand and was preparing to violate my girlfriend. He was so intent – fixated, I would imagine, by the good looking nearly naked female in front of him – that he never saw me coming.

The goon tried to warn him, but it was too late.

I covered the distance in an instant. My Glock was against Carl’s temple. Everything was in SLOW motion. I pulled the trigger and watched as blood and gray matter sprayed out the other side.

I pulled the trigger again.

And again.

And again.

All before Carl fell from the first shot. Each shot hit him in the head. He was as dead as they get before he even hit the floor. Blood was splattered everywhere from the powerful .45 ACP rounds.

Meanwhile, the goon let go of Kara. He was now much more interested in staying alive in this particular situation than holding onto some girl he’d been hoping to rape only thirty seconds ago. I could see his face contort from a desire to get sloppy seconds to a desire to get the hell out of the room. I marveled absently how very detailed his facial expressions were and how quickly they had changed.

Then I marveled at how his face caved in as 230 grains of lead traveling nearly 1000 feet per second made impact. It was weird – I could swear I actually saw the bullet strike. I know I watched as his face deformed, bounced back a little, and developed a nasty little half-inch hole on his right cheek, about an inch under his eye.

May aim had come instantly and been deadly accurate. I did not waste any more ammo on that pitiful excuse for a human. At the same time, I had some other concerns. My first one was the well-being of Kara. My second concern was getting her dressed and getting our stuff. My third concern was getting the hell out of here in one piece.

I had no idea how the others might take the death of Carl. I really didn’t care, as long as we got out of there. These people could choose another leader and would quite likely make out a lot better for it. I just did not want to be the target of emotional reaction or be perceived as a threat to be eliminated.

I picked Kara up and untied the cords that bound her ankles to the table. I helped her pull her pants up as she pulled her bra and shirt down. Normally, I would have been trying to sneak a peek at her, but not now. We had more pressing problems.

Kara was crying softly. I realized that this was the first time I had ever seen her cry. She was a tough woman, and turned her face away from me. I didn’t know if that was because she could not look at a man right now, or if she simply was embarrassed to have me see her crying.

“Don’t worry, we will get out of here now. Let’s go.” I said.

Kara hid her face away from me, but followed closely. I ran to the stock room. I was a man on a mission. Kara gasped as she saw the unconscious men on the floor. I noticed this time that both were breathing. Before, I had wondered if I had killed either of them.

I smashed the glass to get to our rifles. I handed Kara hers and took mine. I grabbed the ammo packs and commenced to searching the room for our gear bags. A few seconds and I realized that if the gear packs were here, they were not in this room.

Kara still sobbed quietly. I took her by the hand and ran for the door. I took careful note that she did not shun from my hand, but rather, her hand clasped me tightly and with passion. We ran down the corridor quickly and quietly. I realized from the quiet, that something was different. Surely, the shots had been heard. But why was everybody so quiet? And why were these yellow lights flashing and whirling?

We reached the door and bolted out. I turned to the right and ran toward that end of the tunnel. I was pretty certain I recognized this road from my study of the maps. I knew that turning right would take us back to where the truck had been parked.

We ran and ran. The tunnel was long – very long. My lungs were burning and my legs were quickly tuning to jelly. Suddenly, from behind, I heard a loud, rumbling noise.

“What is that?” Kara yelled.

We turned and looked. I could not believe my eyes. It was a convoy. A convoy of the invaders – the enemy. They were entering the other side of the tunnel. We still had a few hundred yards to go before we would clear the tunnel. I tried to calculate if we had enough time, but Kara had a better idea.

“Just duck!” She yelled.

I ducked down with her behind the concrete barricade that separated the walkway we were on from the road down below. We crawled onward. We would be safe if they had not seen us.

After a few moments, we realized the convoy was slowing down…

Thank you for the new chapter.  Looking forward to the next one.  Great read.

Not too over the top on some of the descriptions?

I don't think you put in any more than was necessary to set the proverbial stage.  You could have been much more descriptive; but, I don't think it was needed.

That's what I was shooting for.

A writer can never see the story through the eyes of the reader, though.

Deleted

I do not think it is over the top at all on the description.  You have done an excellent job at setting the stage and keeping the story flowing.  As always I definately look forward to the next chapter.

Chapter 13

Kara and I crawled along – the end of the tunnel was twenty yards away or so. I had let her take the lead so that I could keep an eye out on the convoy, which was slowing down. Every four steps, I looked to my rear and side, then I looked forward and began the countdown for the next four steps.

We made it! The convoy had slowed down, but was not stopping. I realized why – I would have done the same – they wanted to make sure that they could exit the tunnel safely and not drive right into a trap. Kara crawled to the right and behind some dense shrubbery.

The underbrush was dense and hard to maneuver through, so I decided to take another course of action. “Kara, right here. Stay put, I am going to crawl forward and keep an eye on them.” I said.

She did as I had instructed and I crawled forward slowly – trying not to disturb the outer layers of the branches, leaves and other natural camouflage. Given the time of year, the leaves on the trees were starting to turn and fall, but there was still enough underbrush in this spot to conceal me even though I was only a good 12 inches from the edge of the brush line.

I noticed something right away, the drivers and passengers were not Chinese – they were Arabic in origin. All of them were. This puzzled me. No, more than puzzlement – it almost shocked me. Almost all of the people we had fought in my hometown had been Chinese except a few at the one end of the interment facility. This had to be some sort of collaboration from several countries that held the US in low regards.

At this point, and I still don’t know why I did it, except just out of curiosity, I looked up. This was a most interesting development. I saw the large windows that had been present in the main meeting hall when I had first met that slimeball, Carl. I could not make out any shapes or people, so I took the magnifier off of my rifle – taking advantage of the quick detach feature.

I looked into the window at the extreme angle and saw people. It took a moment, but I realized they were armed and I was seeing them from a reflection. It was unlikely that the foreign army could see them. The people I was leaving were hiding from this army. Good idea. This would also give me and Kara more time to get out of there – as they would surely keep guard for a few more minutes, and this would delay them in finding Carl’s dead body.

The only problem was that they would be able to monitor us leaving, too. I looked here and there, searching for an alternative. It seemed that just past the brush might be a foot path – likely used by the remnants of this town – and that it would be concealed from prying eyes.

For more than a moment, I pondered the fact that Kara and I likely had two groups after us at this point in time – the townsfolk and the foreign invaders. This was no way to live or conduct the business I needed to conduct, so I immediately resolved to get the two of us out of there, pronto.

The convoy passed. In reality, it took only a few moments as it was not that long. But to me, with my mind racing, it seemed to take forever. I crawled over and keeping down so the townsfolk in the window could not see us, we crawled over to the footpath. It was a bit larger than I expected, and behind us was a large door that I knew led into the rooms that were a part of this tunnel.

To the left of that, as I looked at it, was something that made a lot of sense. It was a parking area complete with a half dozen vehicles. Evidently, the townsfolk used this area to get in and out, especially when they drove. This gave me an idea.

I whispered my idea to Kara.

Five minutes later we were zipping down the dirt road in a recently “borrowed” car. It was a foreign economy model, but I didn’t really care at this point – the keys had been left in it and it was the first car we checked. I figured our luck would not hold out and staying near that tunnel any longer than necessary was something I was not willing to do at this time.

I took care to not go so fast as to not be able to react. And I also wanted to stay at the same speed of the military convoy – there was nothing good to be gained by catching up to them. And then my mind and manners caught up to me.

“Kara, are you alright?” I asked.

She had stopped crying, but at the onset of my question, she looked as though she might start again. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She said it, but I did not believe it.

“No, seriously, do you want to talk?”

“Yes, and no. I hate that I’m not really sure. You deserve a better answer, but it is all I can do to keep from crying.” She said.

“Cry then. Maybe it will be good for you.”

Kara cried. She cried a lot. My eyes welled up, too. What if I hadn’t been there? She would probably be enduring that second goon’s attack at this very moment. No telling how bad the emotional hurt would have been had I not been able to intervene. Sad but true.

All the while, Kara held her rifle close, almost like a child would hold a teddy bear. She rocked herself. Eventually, the cries softened and faded. I was glad for it, not because it had been an annoyance, but because I knew she was working her way through the pain.

My biggest concern was how she was going to treat me. We were lovers. I intended to marry the girl – I was sure of it now. But I was dreading how this might come between us. One of my main attractions to Kara was the physical attraction, as is important to any relationship. However, I was very mindful of the fact that emotional trauma from rape situations often affects the mental and physical parts of the relationship.

As I thought these things and as I drove on, slowly but surely, I realized there was a vehicle behind us in the distance. This was very unusual, there were no other vehicles on the road anywhere. It really is amazing what the human mind can learn to adapt to. We had not seen anybody since the convoy, and neither of us thought any different of it. That’s the way it had been since we had set out.

The vehicle was keeping its distance. The first thing I thought was that it was one of the enemy out on patrol looking for us. I turned over several other possibilities, but that one had the credibility and the likelihood.

“Kara, I don’t want to worry you, but we have company off in the distance behind us.”

She looked and picked up on it. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know. Keep an eye on them. If they get too close, let me know by charging your weapon.” I said.

I looked over and Kara had the AR to her shoulder. She had lowered the seat-back to lay almost completely flat, down to form a bridge to the rear seats. She had taken an almost prone position there, and had moved her magnifier into place. Good thinking, to keep up on the enemy as much as possible.

I continued to drive as though we had not noticed our driving ‘companion.’ I did not know if this enemy would be Chinese or Arabic, but it did not matter. Either way, I would try to lose them once we got to the more populated area. Then we would ditch the car and be on foot. Yes, we would be giving up the speed of the car, but we would gain more mobility and the ability to split up and flank an opponent.

Also, the car we drove was a compact foreign car. Not very high up the food chain for vehicles to fight from. Not exceptionally fast, either. This car’s advantage, to the extent it would have one, was the fuel efficiency. That was irrelevant at this point, though I thought about it for the drive to get Austin.

Austin.

My son’s name rang in my mind. He was my constant reminder why I was doing all of this. I had to go get him. Yet I didn’t even know he was still alive. No! That’s not the way to think. His mom is an idiot, yes – but her dad was well prepared and has a good head on his shoulders. My best hope is that Austin is there, with his grandfather.

The other vehicle kept its distance. I still could not make out the make or model. It looked like it might be a truck, but I couldn’t be sure of that. There was one way to find out.

“Kara, what kind of vehicle is that?”

“It’s a truck – Chevy, I think. I see two people inside. I can’t make out much else, yet.”

“Anything else?”

“Not yet. I can’t tell if they are enemies or Americans.”

Kara touched on something I hadn’t thought of – what if they were from the tunnel? I hadn’t thought of that. This would make things interesting. But if they were from the tunnel, why were they following at a great distance and not trying to catch up to us?

“What makes you think they might be from the tunnel?”

“Kyle, we stole one of their cars. We killed their mayor. Why wouldn’t they follow us?”

“What do you think they want?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe they are the scout group and they will relay our position to the others for an ambush – or to let them know we did leave town.”

“Perhaps they are the enemy.” I suggested.

“No, definitely not. These people are not foreign. They are not Chinese or Arabic. And one has an American flag on his shirt.”

“You can see that?”

“Yeah. They’ve moved a little closer.”

“Let’s find out. I have an idea. I will find a dead end. We will lure them there and then trap them in. Then we can find out what they are up to.”

“Just be careful.” She said in a reprimanding tone.

I deserved that, and I liked that she was keeping me on my toes about these people. She was right, we could not afford to be over-confident here.

I drove on and took a side street once we reached the outskirts of the formerly populated area. This town had been home to some 15,000 residents before the attacks. We would be lucky to find tow other free folks like us here now. I anticipated that most of the folks in town that did not get captured or killed in the first few days now lived at the Tunnel community with Carl.

The side street was still a bit of a main road, so I turned onto another side street. Sure enough, I saw the truck closing in on us. They shadowed our turns. They also now knew I was on to their little scheme. That did not seem to deter them. The driver stayed on my tail like a dog in pursuit of the neighborhood cat.

This cat had a surprise, though.

Finally, a side street with a “dead-end” sign! I turned quickly, tires skidding a little. The truck was close now – maybe a hundred feet behind us. I slowed, but not too much. The truck closed, but not too close. I swung wide and pulled around in the cul-de-sac. The truck followed. I stopped suddenly, blocking them in, and bolted from my stolen car, AR raised in an aggressive posture.

“Hands where I can see them!” I yelled. I noted that Kara had, without me asking, jumped out and taken a flanking position to my right – which also happened to be directly behind the truck.

Four hands appeared from the tops of the windows in the truck, one pair out each window. I approached and opened the driver side door.

“Get out!” I said in a loud voice. “Kara, stay put, keep your rifle trained on this one here.”

I went around and got the other person out of the car. The pair was a middle-aged couple. Maybe late forties or so. I walked the female over to the driver’s side, near the guy, but not too close.

“Both of you all the way down on the ground. Legs apart, arms wide apart. One wrong move and you are both history.” I said. “Kara, keep your rifle at them, I’m going to search them for weapons. You folks have any weapons on you?”

“No. Carl does not allow weapons.” The lady said very shortly. She was a nervous wreck.

“We will see about that.” I said.

I lay my rifle aside, out of reach, and drew my pistol. I patted them both down, front and back. I kept my weapon on them at all times. Kara naturally kept her weapon pointed at the one I was not searching at all times. I didn’t even have to tell her to do that. God, I love this woman!

“OK, you are clean. I’m going to search your truck. You both wait here and don’t move.” I said.

I holstered the pistol and did a brief search of the truck. There were some odd knick-knacks, but nothing important. Just a few spare tools and cans.

“Truck is clean. You folks can sit up. Don’t stand – just sit there.” I said as I grabbed my rifle.

Kara moved to the front bumper of “our” car and relaxed if only a bit, while keeping her rifle trained on the couple. I sat on the seat of the truck, feet on the ground. I kept my rifle in the general direction of the couple.

“Now,” I started. “Who are you and why were you following me?”

“Jack and Amy Jones.” The man said. His voice was quivering. “We had thought we would sneak out, away from Carl while the convoy was moving through and escape. We had been in the window on lookout when they passed. I watched you two get in the car and leave.”

“So why did you follow us? Going to report us to Carl?” I asked. I knew Carl was dead, and I wanted to see what they knew. There was a good chance they didn’t know Carl was dead. If that was the case, and they were still here, it was a good chance these were decent folks trying to get away from that madman.

“No, we tried to radio Carl about the convoy. He never responded, but one of his cronies did. He said Carl had taken the little missy there,” he pointed to Kara. “for some ‘amusement.’ I’m not the world’s smartest man, but I knew what that fool meant. I mean, I saw the way Carl looked at you, Miss, earlier today.”

Kara turned her head away in a measure of shame.

“Miss, my husband didn’t mean any harm. We all saw the way Carl looked at you. Tell me Carl didn’t hurt you.” Amy said.

Kara shook her head side to side.

“Good. And if he did, I suspect I know what’s happened to him anyways. I also saw the way he looked at you, sir. He wanted to kill you. The fact that he wanted to ‘play’ with your wife, kill you, added to the fact that his goon said he was going to ‘amuse’ himself with her. Then there’s the fact that the two of you are right here, right now. I can figure things out – you two escaped before Carl could get you!” Amy said.

“Amy, you have a good mind. Jack, you must be proud. How long have you two been married?” I asked.

“Twenty years next spring.” Jack said. “And you are right, I am proud of Amy. It was her idea to follow you. She said anybody who could get away from Carl like that could stay alive out here for a long time. She was hoping – WE were hoping – you might let us tag along.”

“Hmmm. I don’t know.”

“We won’t get in the way, and we will do as you ask.” Amy said. “There’s no way you could be as mean as Carl. We decided to risk it. Now we can’t go back there.” Amy said.

“Kyle, can I talk to you?” Kara asked.

I walked over, and we went behind the car – both to shield our conversation and to shield ourselves should Amy and Jack decide to try something. I was getting to the point where I didn’t think they would or even could.

“What is it?” I asked in a whisper.

“I think these folks are telling the truth. Why else would they follow us without a CB, or two-way radio, or even a cell phone to report back with?” Kara said.

“I agree. And they don’t know Carl is dead. Maybe it would change their minds if they did know.” I suggested.

“Probably not. They sound like they were scared out of their minds of him. He ruled with an iron fist and they saw a chance to get out.” Kara said.

I decided right then and there what to do.

“You folks stand up. Tell me what you want. If we can do it, we will. If not, I’ll say so right now. Either way, I think you folks have been honest with me and I owe it back to you.” I said.

“We want to go wherever you are going. We promise not to get in the way. We will help any way we can.” Jack said. Amy nodded with him.

I thought for a moment. “There are some problems with this idea, but most of those are logistical. Where are your things?”

“What things?” Amy asked.

“Food, clothes, personal items, weapons?” I asked.

“We left when we had the chance, we couldn’t wait.” Amy said.

I nodded to Kara, who nodded back. I knew these folks were probably legit. I would have done the same, had I been in their shoes. Circumstances had dictated to me a different way out, though.

“Well then, you are welcome to come with us. I am Kyle. This is Kara. My truck will not hold all of us and the needed amount of supplies and provisions. You may come with us, but our first order of business will be to prove your trustworthiness. Tell us where to find a place with a delivery truck – like UPS, a bakery, or even a florist.”

We all four piled into the extended cab pickup that Jack and Amy had brought. I decided not to tell them yet about Carl. The time would come. Right now, however, we needed out of there and pronto.

Jack led us straight to a bakery. The trucks were outside, parked in a nice, neat row. We found keys in the building and commandeered a truck. We made a bee line for my truck, and Jack was instrumental in making sure we did not go near the enemy Army’s base camp.

We got to my truck, and it had been ransacked on the outside. Jack explained that Carl’s bunch often did that just to blow off steam or as a way of sending a message. I had hoped to leave the truck here and get it when I came back with Austin. Now, I was just going to leave it here. We quickly moved our supplies from my damaged truck into the fairly new bread delivery truck.

One thing I learned that day is that a delivery truck may not be fast, but it has excellent storage space. We were able to get all of the stuff loaded and had a bunch of room left. This gave me an idea.

“Jack, is your home around here?”

“Not far, why?”

“We can go there and pick up your clothes and guns and stuff.” I said.

“No. All of our stuff was at the Tunnel. We had no guns. We have nothing any more.” Jack looked very dejected at the mention of it.

“I have an idea.”

“What is it?” Kara asked me.

“Jack, Amy, where is the nearest Wal Mart?”

A smile came across Jack’s face, and I was sure it wasn’t of dreaming of blading at 45 degrees.

Can't wait for more

Good one.  Let's hope our hero can disengage in time as well.

Excellent.  

call me an idiot....blading at 45 degrees?

oh and more!!!  awesomeness!

A little stab at an old story in the GD.  

Chapter 14

I parked the Bakery truck at the entrance of the Wal Mart. The bright flowery design could attract unwanted attention most places. But at Wal Mart, one could expect anything. Even if there were no people left to shop there.

A swift kick opened the door. Rather, it broke the glass and allowed me to crawl in and push the rest of the door down. Kara, Amy, and Jack followed me inside. We gathered some carts.

“OK, let’s go to the sporting goods department first. Kara, grab some batteries.” I said.

“Why sporting goods?” Jack asked.

“To get some flashlights so we can see!” I replied. I could have been mad, but I hadn’t been shopping in forever. I figured free shopping was even better, too.

We got to the sporting goods department and found many flashlights. We made sure to have two or more for each person. Kara supplied the batteries and we lit the place up.

“Being able to see will help us out a lot. Now, don’t go hog-wild, but do get several changes of clothes each. Don’t forget belts and hats. Grab jackets, too – winter will be here before we know it.” I barked out with a bit of glee.

I did not follow them, instead I went to the back. My shopping cart was going to be filled with other things. I grabbed several large knives, multi-tools, a camping stove, fuel, and other related items. I did get a few pots and pans, too and some plates and silverware. There was a metal box in the bakery truck that would hold all of these things.

Next, I left the shopping cart where it was. I went into the storage area from the sporting goods and found what I was looking for almost instantly. There were boxes of rifles. I got to the section with the mini-14’s. I grabbed three rifles, the six magazines that went with them, and I also grabbed some extra magazines from the boxes of other mini-14’s. All in all, Jack and Amy would have six magazines each. 120 rounds would keep them plenty busy.

After depositing the rifles and mags in my cart, I went to the ammo section and pretty much took every last .223 box on the shelves. There was not a lot – maybe 900 to 1000 rounds. I figured we would need to stock up in the future, anyways.

I met together with the other three. Jack and Amy had been wise to get camouflage clothing. I grabbed a few hunting vests that would hold their mags and possibly a few other supplies. A bit of gun cleaning material rounded out my shopping.

“Now for the food.” I said.

We went to the food section and stocked up what we figured would last the four of us a little more than a week – perhaps ten days. We got bottled water, too. I made sure to grab a couple of can openers and some cigarette lighters.

We started loading the truck full, keeping in mind to store things in an orderly fashion so as to preserve space. Turns out, the truck easily held all we got. As we were finishing up, I noticed Kara had slipped away. When she came back, she had in her arms some strange bundles.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Folding chairs.” She said.

Sure enough, they were the folding lawn chairs that so many parents used to bring to their kids’ sporting events.

“Good idea!”

“What’s that?” Jack mirrored to me as I pulled my cart to the front.

“This is your rifle, and Amy’s.”

“I’m not comfortable with a firearm.”

“We will fix that.” I said with a grin.

There was a little bickering, but when I made it clear that being able to tag along with us meant pulling your weight in every regard, the argument fizzled out. Jack and Amy wisely felt their safety was more important than some useless ideology they had never really thought out to begin with.

In moments, we were back on the road. Jack sat in the front on the fold-down passenger seat that is built in to so many of these delivery trucks for when a supervisor would ride along with the route delivery guy. Amy and Kara sat in the lawn chairs in the back – we had fastened three of them to some of the interior frame so they could sit in them as we drove along.

In a few moments, I had Amy and Jack instructed in the basics of firearm safety. Seems like I had just finished up giving Carla the same instruction – but that was several weeks ago, now. An hour into the trip, Jack and Amy were doing well, operating the slide and dry-firing into open fields. They would alternate and do magazine reload drills for a few minutes, then do dry fire drills. And yes, they were careful to check the rifles before starting the dry fire drills. Only thing left was to get them to shoot.

That day would come soon.

“So Jack,” I started about two hours into the trip through winding country roads. “What did you do; you know, before all this happened?”

“I am an ordained minister,” he answered. “I was pastor to a small church. When the invasion started, many of our congregation sheltered themselves at the church. Eventually we had to leave for fear of being discovered by the invading armies. Carl had taken us in.”

“How did that turn out?” I asked. What I really wanted to know was how he had knowingly left his ‘flock’ back at the tunnel when Carl was still there to the best of his knowledge.

“Several were killed in some raids that Carl held. One or two went missing. It was down to us and one other family – Fred and Lindsay Clark. They were a young couple, like you. The wife was very pretty, like Kara. Word has it that Carl had his eye set on poor Lindsay. Then one day, Fred and Lindsay wound up missing. There were rumors, you know…”

Amy had cut him off, “they were more than rumors and you know it!”

“Yes, that’s why we are here. I am glad you got out before Carl got to Kara.” Jack said.

“You don’t know how right you are.” I replied.

We talked on an on, mostly frivolous conversation to pass the time. By the maps we had, we were making good time and would be halfway there by dark. Then we would have to refuel and find a good hiding spot for the night.

“What do you know about this… war?” I asked. I really did not have any point to make, I just wanted to hear somebody else’s take on things. The response would captivate me.

“We had an American GI come to town for a few days, then he was off again. He was a downed fighter pilot form what he said. He had a lot of interesting information. Why? What do you want to know?” Jack replied.

“All I know is one day we get our major cities bombed, a flu threat, and then boom! Just like that, enemy tanks roll into town. Have they really taken over the whole country?” I said.

“Flu threat?”

“Yeah. Some sort of biological warfare. I don’t know, though, because nobody I’ve met has been sick. We got a flu shot in the early days, before the invasion.”

“I hadn’t heard of that part,” Jack said. “And like you, nobody I know of has been sick.”

“What have you heard? What did the pilot say?” Kara asked.

“Amy, you spent more time with him, you tell them.” Jack suggested.

“He had a lot to say,” Kara started. “First, he said this is a joint invasion by China, North Korea, Russia, and most of the Middle Eastern nations. Israel is the exception. They are fighting back – but in their region of the world. The kicker is that the pilot seemed to think that these countries had been granted permission from Mexico to enter from that angle, so the invasion came through Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico.

“The invasion forces coming through Texas were met with force form the Texans. By and large, that arm of the invasion was stopped. However, the forces coming through New Mexico and Arizona advanced and further reinforcements came that way, too. They spread and went north to the Canadian border.

“The pilot seemed to think that they had no interest in taking the West part of the country, but instead that the enemy wanted to take Washington, DC, by way of the heartland. But there was a problem – the South. They errantly tried to go through Arkansas. But folks from Tennessee, Alabama, Georgia, Kentucky, and Mississippi had come to help, and the advancing forces were held at bay.

“This standoff lasted a couple of weeks, then the enemy got smart and went north; through Illinois and Indiana and on to the East. The pilot did not know how far they had made it. He seemed to think that we had them pretty much contained. Neither side had a clear advantage, but that we had stopped their progress. That was two weeks ago.” Amy wrapped up.

“Wow. Just… wow.” Was all I could muster.

“So we are in ground zero here in the middle of the country?!” Kara exclaimed.

“Seems so.” Jack suggested.

“What then, do you think of the initial reports of biological warfare?” I asked.

“My guess would be that’s an empty threat.” Jack said.

“I hope so. I don’t think it will be a significant danger, one way or another.” I said. Boy, would I live to regret those words…

We drove on, chatted on, and generally enjoyed the company of one another. As dark approached, I found a farm house with a large barn out back. We stopped and rang the bell. Sure enough, no answer. I broke the glass and opened the door. We swept the house carefully, and found it to be deserted.

The lawn and surrounding areas looked like it had been more than a month since people had lived here, but I went through all of the necessary precautions in case all of the looks were a ruse.

I parked the bread truck in the barn and closed the door. No horses or cattle here. Mostly the barn just had tools and empty stalls. Old manure led me to believe that there had been livestock kept here, maybe as recently as a few months ago. There were, however, no fresh signs.

Supper and a real house to sleep in was a welcome turn of events. We took turns keeping watch – four of us meant less sleep lost. In the morning, the ladies fixed a nice breakfast and we were on the road by about 9 am.

Driving along on the back country roads, I was surprised that we saw nobody, but came into a small town rather quickly after leaving the farm house. We needed fuel, and this town was as likely as any to have some. We pulled into a gas station.

Sure enough, the station was empty. However, the door was open. Whoever had left here had done so in a hurry. The place was fairly ransacked. We weren’t the first to loot this place. Probably not the second group, either, from the looks of it.

I went to the back office and threw some switches. Nothing. I knew what I needed. I came outside to the pump area where the truck was and scanned. I quickly found what I was looking for – a small machinery rental company. Fifteen minutes later, I had an almost new generator. We had more than enough room for it in the truck, and it had a little gasoline in it.

Fifteen minutes after that, we had a full tank of gas, a full generator, and a few extra gas cans full, as well. A strip mall caught my eye and I talked the rest into humoring me for a few moments. They all “looted” whatever stores they wanted. It was interesting – we took things that would make our lives easier in this new and harsh world; not so much the insignificant knick-knacks that might have otherwise dominated our desires.

Except for me: for one precious little memento.

We were well on our way down the road, Jack was driving and we had struck up another round of conversation, when I surprised the group with the little memento.

“So the whole congregation had a good laugh at old man Murphy for eating all of Mrs. Dalton’s pie there at the Wednesday night supper,” Jack was relaying a rather funny story from his preaching days.

“Jack. Or should I say, Pastor?” I asked.

“What’s up?”

“Did you ever perform weddings?”

“A few. Why?”

“I was wondering if you would perform mine?”

All mouths dropped and all eyes were on me.

“See, I thought that despite the times we are in, it would do me a world of good to marry Kara.” I said.

“Do you have a time frame, son?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure we will in a moment…” I said, evil grin on my face.

“What are you talking about?” Kara said. “We haven’t discussed this.”

“Now is as good a time as any.” I turned and went down to one knee, “if, you would do me the honor of marrying me.” I said, engagement ring in hand.

My little memento was now the focus of four people. Fortunately, Jack had stopped the truck so he would not collide with anything during this moment.

*****
Folks, let me tell you something here. At this point in my life, I had fought other human beings who had wanted to kill me. I had survived what millions had not. I had willingly gone into battle. I had set my mind to travel across the country, full of enemies that wanted to kill or detain me, all to get my little son.

All of that was nothing compared to the brass it takes to propose. And it shouldn’t be that way, because I knew Kara was the one. I had known it for some time. And I was completely comfortable around her. But there are some things that require a great deal of courage. This was one of those things.
*****

Kara had been reduced to a blathering idiot. And I use that term in the nicest possible way, of course. “I… I… I… um… YES!”

“Good. Is now too soon?” I asked. Boy, I had a powerful dose of Brass today – might be a little difficult to walk later with ten pound of brass in the shorts.

“Now is great!” Kara yelled out.

Normally, I would have been OK with a church, flowers, reception, the whole nine yards. Given the circumstances, and how glad we all were to simply be alive, here and now was best for us all.

Ten minutes later it was done. Before God and man – well at least one other man and one other woman – we were man and wife. I kissed my bride.

I wish I could say there were other events between there and arriving at the town Austin had called home for the past year or so. Fortunately, there were no events more than keeping to small back roads and much chatter.

Nice .... Keep it up!

+1

Really Good story so far!!

Aw man.
Why, when the world is ending would you punish him by making him get married?

His choice to screw his life up... not mine!

Chapter 15

We pulled in to Paul’s (my former father-in-law) farm late in the afternoon. There was a distinct chill in the air now. It was fall. I still don’t know the exact date, but Kara and I celebrate November 1 as our anniversary.

We could tell there were people living here. The most obvious clue was the people in the driveway, pointing rifles in our direction.

“I am Kyle – Paul’s former son-in-law.” I said to them, arms raised.

Which probably looked silly when one saw the loaded Glock on my hip.

But the point was made: I meant no harm. Paul stepped forward and smiled. “Kyle, you ol’ sonofabitch. I knew you would survive this shit!” Paul had obviously been in the Marines in his younger years.

“Paul, you too, my brother.”

“Father to you!” he joked.

“Not anymore… thank God!” I said.

My divorce had been hard on me and Sue, but Paul never let that get in the way between me and him. In fact, at one point, he had confessed to me that he didn’t know what his daughter had been thinking. Nothing ever really takes the sting out of a divorce, but that comment came close.

“Kyle, it is good to see you. I bet I know why you are here. You want to see Austin, huh?”

“You still read minds?” I half-heartedly quipped.

“Why the hell else would you come all this way through god-knows-how-much shit to get here. Sure as hell ain’t to see some ol’ codger like me. But come on inside, I’ll introduce you to everybody and we can see if Austin is up form his nap.”

My heart leapt for joy. Austin was alive and here! I knew immediately he was probably doing just fine. That was how I wanted it.

“Let me warn you. Sue is here and I don’t think she will be overjoyed to see you,” Paul said. “But you understand something right now: this is my house and my rules apply. If I’ve got a problem with you – and I don’t – but I will let you know straight up if I ever do. Don’t you pay her any attention at all when she starts whining.”

Paul’s words were kind and I appreciated that. However, I had some other concerns. “Paul, thank you very much for that. But I’m not here to cause tension. I’m here to see my son. I don’t know what a good solution will be, but I’m not going to come in here and stir up a bunch of trouble. I just want to be with my son, be here for him.”

“I know that Kyle. You’re a good dad and always will be. We’ll find some way to make it work. If nothing else, I’ll just have to put my daughter back in her place. I still don’t know what got into her that she wanted to up and leave you. But it looks to me like you might have moved on, now?”

I noticed Kara had come up and was standing by my side.

“Paul, meet my wife, Kara.” I said, plain and simple as that.

They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. I motioned for Jack and Amy to come along and we all went inside, followed by some of the people I did not recognize. Their tensions seemed to have let up since Paul obviously knew who I was. Once inside, we discovered Austin was still asleep. While he napped, Paul made sure to introduce everybody.

Cort was Paul’s sister. She was in her fifties or so. Her husband was Bill. Bill was a powerfully built man who carried a rifle. I noticed as an M1A. Nice choice!

Steve was Cort’s son, and Maggie his wife. That made Steve the nephew of Paul. He was young – no more than twenty-five. Steve and Maggie were also armed. This did not surprise me; there were two types of people these days, armed citizens and unarmed captives.

Of course, Sue was there, too. And, as expected, she was not happy with seeing me there. However, her mouth was not running. This was a welcome change. But I knew why she was not running her mouth: her eyes were glued to Kara. For some reason, she looked intent on figuring Kara out. I did not like the looks of this.

We all sat around. They had me tell them of how things had happened in my home town. There were few surprises there. Then they told me of how things had gone down here. Seems as though a significant US military presence was still here, in hiding from the invaders. Occasionally, they would call on the citizens around to help them in a flash raid or some other operation. It was a good thing that the civilians and soldiers were working hand in hand.

But I had to wonder one thing. Why, if the military was still operating, did Lt. Harris back home say they weren’t? Why had he made it seem like there was no more US government to turn to?

Those questions would be solved soon enough, however. First, as my son awoke and came in to find his daddy (which was sheer joy for us both!), Paul announced that it was time for “The Broadcast.” Every day at about 6 pm, there was a HAM radio broadcast sent out. Mostly prepared and upbeat, it contained vital information for us all.

We tuned in:

“Americans, this is The Broadcast, brought to you at 7:00 Eastern time, 6:00 Central. In the news today: The President has failed to secure help from the British or the Canadians in negotiations. They are back to the drawing board tomorrow. It is said the British want some land in exchange for the help. The President has been unwilling to give up our sovereign soil in any type of exchange.

“All fronts are holding. The invasion has stopped in Western Arkansas, Texas, and still spreads up into Illinois and on through half of Indiana. A Senator from Illinois has expressed his concern over how this happened, saying that after we have won, he will push hard to eliminate all forms of gun control so his state will never again be a target.

“Rumors are confirmed that the invading forces have attacked specific target areas with biological contaminants. At this time, it is believed to be strictly a flu-based virus. It is reported that those who become affected will die within three days. If you have not received a flu shot, now is the time. It is unconfirmed, but rumored that this is one of two experimental types. If the rumors are true, the killing strain is not their primary threat, but is the fore-runner of another strain that allows, quote ‘multiple contaminations,’ end quote.

“Reports confirming how the multiple contaminations would take place are coming in now. Any persons with first hand information on the likely outcomes should contact their nearest military installation. We have underground persons placed at all former bases. Further details cannot be given at this time as it might jeopardize operatives.

“Elsewhere, the Air Force struck a blow in the midwest today. Chinese base operations in a dozen towns in Wisconsin were successfully bombed, with enemy casualties numbering in the tens of thousands. Further operations in the area are planned, but cannot be divulged yet so as not to tip off our enemy.

“Volunteers from Tennessee arrived at national headquarters today. Some million troops were counted from the Volunteer state. More still from many southern states are pouring in every day. Soon, our forces will be trained, armed, and capable of helping us win this conflict!

“As always, if this is the first time you are hearing this broadcast, get to your nearest military installation. There is safety there in numbers. The resistance is growing. The areas of America that have not been invaded far outnumber the parts of the US that have been taken over. We need your help. We need your prayers. We are all in this together. Remember: TOGETHER is the only way we will win this. This is Rick Rose signing off.”

Looks around the room indicated support from everybody present. Paul’s look was more determined than before. “Kyle, have you and Kara been vaccinated?”

“Yes, shortly after the news of the attacks, before our hometown was invaded.”

“Has everybody else here?” Paul directed his attention to the room.

Heads nodded. I was fixed on Sue, who was watching Kara intently again. I knew that look. I wondered if she had been looking at her that way the whole time.

“I’ll take it that everybody has had the shot, then.” Paul said and nobody disagreed. “That means our next order of business is shopping. Kyle, can we use your truck as it has more cargo space than any other vehicle we have?”

“Sure. What do you mean, ‘shopping’?”

“We scavenge for what we can get. Usually take a neighborhood or some stores. This evening, we are in search of building materials and the like. You will likely be going to the local home-improvement store.”

“This evening?”

“We search under the cover of night. The local invading army all but shuts down searches at night, because our local military and militia have hit them multiple times at night. Makes ‘em jumpy, and we like it that way. We can go and do what we want to, and they are all huddled up, hoping we don’t start a fight.”

“Makes sense. You mentioned local militia?” Kara asked. Sue shot her an evil eye look.

“Anybody that wasn’t part of the military before the attacks, but now takes up arms in defense of America is by definition ‘militia.’ That means you, too.” Paul said, pointing at Kara’s carbine.

“So here’s what we do, Kyle. The men will leave here at 9:00 pm or so, after supper. Steve, Bill, Jack, you and me will go, two in your truck and two in a separate car. We will get to the home improvement store, get what we need, then get back. Any questions?”

“Not right now. We will need help unloading some of our supplies so as to have more room in the truck.” I said.

“Of course. Let’s go do that as the women finish up supper.” Paul said.

As we rose and each went our separate ways, Sue bumped shoulders with Kara. I thought it was done intentionally, but Sue made sure to apologize… somewhat. Kara and I looked at each other and shrugged, before she made it clear to me that she could handle herself while I was gone.

With so many hands helping, it took less than half an hour to unload the truck. Supper was ready by then and we ate well, but not too much. Then it was off to the store to ‘shop.’ We made off like bandits, getting the supplies Paul needed. Mostly the things we got were to repair or improve the current house, no new major projects.

As we returned to Paul’s home, there was a sight to behold! Kara and Sue were in fighting postures, squared off facing one another!

A slap by Sue never hit home, Kara had ducked it and responded with a quick one-two punch combo with both blows landing on Sue’s face. This stunned Sue, and bloodied her nose. She kicked out at Kara, but my current wife was too quick for the former one. Kara sidestepped the kick and came back with another flurry of punches; virtually all of them hit home.

It was clear at this point that Kara had the upper hand at the exchanging of blows, so Sue decided to switch tactics and wrestle. She clinched up and before long, the two women both fell to the ground. By this point, we had stopped the vehicles and all of the men were running toward the scene. We pulled them apart before any more damage was done.

“What happened here?” Paul boomed to the women. Giving neither any indication that he was going to take sides.

Neither woman spoke.

Finally, Cort spoke up after several long and uncomfortable moments. “Sue insulted Kara repeatedly. When Kara got up to leave the room, Sue pushed her in the back. And then the fight started.”

“Is this true?” Paul demanded of his daughter.

Sue said nothing, and refused to look her father in the eye. She simply stood there, bleeding.

“Is this true?” Paul asked Kara, who nodded to the affirmative.

“Anybody else see it?” Paul said, looking straight at Amy and Maggie.

Both women nodded. “That’s what I saw,” said Amy.

“Me, too,” confirmed Maggie.

“Sue, go to your room!” Paul demanded.

“Dad, I am not a child and will not be treated like one!” Sue snorted.

“Not a child? What the hell was all of this shit? Adults don’t act like that, they just shoot each other like civilized people!” Paul said, his voice slightly raised.

Paul obviously didn’t intend the comment to be as funny as the rest of us took it, because he shot us all a look when snickering broke out. “I would whip your ass if Kara hadn’t already. Now get to your room!” Paul commanded with an outstretched arm and finger pointing the direction. His voice in a tone that warranted no further discussion.

Again, he didn’t realize the hilarity of his comment about Kara whipping Sue’s ass, or he might not have worded it that way. We all held back more snickering, until Paul was out of sight, taking a load of the merchandise to the back. Then laughter exploded all around, even from Kara.

The next day was pretty nondescript, with the exception of mounting tension between Kara and Sue. That evening, we sat around the fireplace as we listened to the daily HAM radio update at 6:00 pm.

“Americans, this is Rick Rose on the Freedom channel. Stunning news today, Indianapolis has been taken back by America! That’s right, American military and militia forces have taken back the city of Indianapolis. This was the first of many operations put into motion with the arrival of a million volunteers from Tennessee. Remember, folks, America needs as many volunteers as she can get right now. See your local military installation for more details.

“A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the People to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed. Folks, you all know this is our second amendment. But do you know what it means? “Well regulated,” as put forth by our founding fathers, means that each member of the militia would know what the following commands meant: ‘make ready, take aim, fire.’ Each man would have twenty five shots of ammunition at the ready for immediate use.

“That means that each person who volunteers now is part of the militia as outlined in the Constitution. It has been agreed upon that the following regulations also be followed. First,  Private, Specialist, Corporal, and Sergeant are the enlisted ranks. Lieutenant, Captain, Major, and Colonel are the officer ranks. Flag ranks are Brigadier General, Major General, Lieutenant General and General.”

‘So that’s where Lt. Harris came up with this stuff’ I thought to myself.

“Second, all militia men and women will be outfitted with a primary rifle and no less than one hundred rounds of ammunition. Preferably, these will be modern M4’s or M16’s so as to achieve a parts and ammunition commonality with official US troops. Also, more often than not, one will have more ammo, if it is available. Personal use firearms are encouraged, provided the individual knows how to operate and maintain them.

“Third is chain of command. Each militia unit is commanded by one of its own. General US military orders are to be followed under normal circumstances. Also, these will typically be given by higher ranking military operatives so as to maintain a chain of command. At no time is any military commander to give an order contrary to the constitution.

“Fellow Americans, I want to pass along reports of the biological attacks our enemies have started. The first flu strain kills. The second, as I reported yesterday, is considered worse, as it has the ability to infect many more. We have reports now that the second one may have been launched at specific targets. There are reports of people becoming infected.

“It is unknown how long the effects of the flu-like virus last, or even if they are fatal at this point. We are not even certain it is even related to the flu.However, we do know the virus can be spread by any sort of exchange of bodily fluid. So please, keep safe out there and be prepared. This is Rick Rose, signing off.”

NICE!

Moar!!

Chapter 16

At this point, kind reader, I will pick up the story some four months from where we left off. There have been a number of minor things to happen, few of which are important to this story.

The main change is that shortly after the previous events, I secured housing close to Paul. I see Austin every day. Most nights, he stays at my place. However, the distance is necessary as Sue insisted on behaving like a spoiled brat.

My son is becoming quite a good shot. I only allow him to shoot a .22 right now, but that will change in a couple of years. Sue was not too excited about the fact that I got the boy a rifle for his sixth birthday last month, but I don’t really care what she thinks anymore.

The biological warfare seems to have intensified on many fronts. There are strange reports here and there that are difficult to explain. Mainly I think there is too much hype and hysteria. It is evident that whatever was used, it was not like the first round that just killed people. This one seems to make people go insane.

I’ll pick up the story from one morning in the early spring. We were all having breakfast at Paul’s house (a fairly common occurrence). I was sitting at the breakfast table with almost the whole crew, and chatter was the usual.

“So little man, you going target shooting with me and your dad today?” Steve asked Austin.

“Yep.” Came the reply. No hesitation. No uncertainty.

“I guess I’ll let you tag along. If you do well, I’ll let you shoot my AR once,” I said.

“Thanks, Daddy!” the boy was overwhelmed. He loved shooting the ‘big-boy’ guns.

Kara walked in at that moment, wiping her mouth. She looked a little unwell.

“Kara, you OK?” I asked.

“Just not feeling well this morning. Had to take some antacid.” She said as she sat down.

I noticed Cort shooting Bill a knowing glance, but I had no idea what all that meant. “You’ve been pushing really hard lately. It’s OK if you let up a little.” I commented.

“I will. You’re right,” she said. “I just want to keep in tip top shape just in case, you know...”

“Say no more. Life is almost back to normal, even though we are in the middle of a war zone. I think the fact that we are so far away from town helps a lot. Nobody will come looking for us here,” I said.

“I hope not. But nowadays we can’t just depend on ‘I hope not,’ we’ve got to take precautions and prepare for any eventuality,” she said.

“All the same,” Steve started. “I’d just as soon take the fight to them as sit around and wait.”

“Steve, you have a good point, but even if we got all the locals and the military to help, we would still be hopelessly outnumbered against just the local invaders.” Paul stated.

“Send Kara to get them,” came a sarcastic reply from the corner.

Sue entered the room and all eyes went down. She was starting in again, and none of us cared for it one bit. Four months had really drug out in this regard. To her credit, Kara just ignored the comment and actually started piling some food onto her plate.

The rest of breakfast was fairly quiet. Sue tried to start some conversation here and there, but not even her father would say more than a few words to her. All in all, I don’t think she even realized why people were treating her this way. Maybe she didn’t recognize that there was even a difference in the way folks spoke around her and the way folks spoke to one another. She had become a cancer to our little tribe and we had all just resigned ourselves to try to endure.

At some time, Paul had slipped out of the room. I know this because after about ten minutes of silence, when several of us were finishing up our breakfast, Paul came back into the room. The look on his face was grim.

“All able bodied men have been called into action. All women who want to join may do so as well.” Paul said, keeping the same grim look and an even tone in his voice.

“What’s this all about?” Steve asked.

“Some kind of mobilization. They didn’t say on the radio. All I know is they are calling people in. Given how long it’s been, and the reports we keep getting on the HAM radio every night, I bet it’s time we are fighting to take back our slice of America.”

That last comment perked everybody up. I was definitely up for it, but I also knew first hand the horrors of actual combat. Perhaps more so than anybody here but Paul and perhaps Kara.

“But no official word, huh?” I asked.

“No.” was the one-word reply.

“I wonder why they want to fight back? I mean, it’s not like…” Sue started.

She never got any further as several sets of eyes were cast in her direction. The others, and myself, not perfect people, but we are all patriotic to a fault. She obviously had never lifted a finger to help. As fate would have it, I think Paul shared my thoughts at this moment. He interjected into the silence:

“Sue, I think it’s time you did a little service yourself. Austin can stay here with Cort and Amy.” Paul said. His voice warranted no argument.

Sue argued anyways because that was her style. “But I don’t need to go. They’ve got all of you. Besides, Cort and Amy can’t take care of Austin as good as his mommy can.”

“That’s irrelevant. This is being billed as one week. That’s it,” Paul commented. “Besides, it is plain to everyone here that you have no appreciation for what’s being done for you daily and for what freedom really means. That’s partly my fault. I’ve always sheltered you. But no more. Now, you are going to serve.”

All eyes focused on Sue. Nobody spoke. Paul had hit the nail on the head. Finally, Sue spoke up.

“No. I won’t go.” Her tone reminded me of a spoiled child. Even my little Austin would not have behaved like that. “And that’s final, daddy.”

“Well then, I’m sorry. Pack your things.”

“But why?”

“You’re leaving.”

“Where do you plan to take me?”

“I’m not taking your spoiled ass anywhere. You are leaving here. You don’t pull your own weight. You refuse to volunteer. You are a strain on everybody else at this house. All the others do their part – you are the only one who doesn’t. And I’m not going to condone or enable that.” Paul said, his voice barely above a whisper.

One by one, folks started filing out of the room as Paul and Sue argued. I’m sure we all agreed this had to be done, but nobody really wanted to see it turn ugly. The two argued back and forth for a little bit. With each turn, Paul gained more and more momentum. Finally, the crescendo.

“Fine, Dad. I’ll go. But don’t cry when your little girl gets shot just because of your pig-headedness!” Sue yelled as she slammed the door and marched upstairs.

Up the stairway, Sue passed Kara. Kara had her rifle and gear pack strapped on. She was ready. Damn! She beat me to it! Then I realized, Sue was putting up this big fight, and Kara without a word had retrieved her things and prepared to go to war.

I definitely made a good choice!

A half hour later, when things had calmed down, and Paul, Steve, Bill, Jack, Kara, and I were ready to push off, Sue came down the stairs. She was a sight to behold. Sue was dressed in camouflage, a bit too big for her, and armed with her dad’s old lever action .30-30. She wore a large knife at her belt – it was a large kitchen knife, usually suitable for vegetable and meats. I laughed on the inside at the sight of her, but I was equally glad she decided to put in with us at taking our country back.

The drive to the arranged place of meeting was generally a quiet one. Few said anything. Paul did not speak until we were about five minutes from the destination.

“Kyle, you said you and Kara were in the militia back home? Do I remember right?” Paul asked.

“Yep,” I replied. “We were each a Specialist and in charge of a fire group. I don’t really know how I did. There was just one fight.”

“Did your team make it out in one piece?”

“Of course. But we were not the ones storming the fort, either.”

“Doesn’t matter. Bringing folks back alive is job number one. But back to my main point, I found out today that I will be needing a sergeant to lead one of the front line platoons here. Are you up to the job?”

I was stunned. “Sure, I guess.”

“You’re it. ‘Til you die or I find somebody better.” He said.

I almost laughed at the final comment, remembering it from some old Sci-Fi movie. Then I noticed his face. Paul hadn’t so much as blinked. He was stoic. He really meant every last word.

Then something else hit me. Kara was thinking way ahead of me, though, because before the thought was halfway across my mind, she blurted out; “You need a sergeant? What are you?”

“What am I?” Paul asked.

“Yeah, what rank?” Kara probed.

“I am a Lieutenant around here. There are a couple others like me…”

“So there are lots of militia where we are going?” Kara concluded.

“A couple thousand. And twice that many regular military by this morning’s count.”

“Why didn’t we know this?” I asked.

“You never asked.” Paul said matter-of-factly.

Just then, before we could get any more information, we arrived at the destination. It was a shopping mall. More than a few odd glances were shared. We got out of the car. Each of us had at least one weapon (Kara and I had a pistol and a rifle), and five hundred rounds. We had some other basics – cleaning kits, basic first-aid supplies, a canteen or camelback, a knife, and a utility tool at the minimum. Those who wanted more could bring whatever they wanted.

We were a ragtag bunch. I was in ACU’s. Kara and Jack were in a tree-pattern hunting style camouflage. Paul, Bill, Steve, and Sue were in the old woodland green BDU’s. I looked around at us, and as I did, Paul started fishing in his pockets for something.

He pulled out several trinkets and started handing them out. Mine was three stripes – sergeant rank insignia in a flat black color to attach to my collar. I realized the others had their respective ranks as well. I was happy to see Kara as a Specialist, still. Paul informed her she would lead Bill and Steve. Sue would be assigned to another group so as to cut down on conflict.

As we walked further into the mall, I could see more and more commotion as people gathered. It was swarming. There were indeed several thousand here. There would be ten thousand in all before noon. There were real military tanks and helicopters on the outside of the mall, on the far side from where we had parked.

We passed a group of Army soldiers. They looked at my AR and Kara’s and nodded with some respect to us, or so it looked. Paul took us down to the armory. It was a former department store where the folks here could get weapons, ammo, and other supplies. One was given what could be spared. It was like a market, but there was no buying.

The rest of our little group was issued AR15’s like Kara and I had. Theirs only had basic holographic sights and backup iron sights. Mine and Kara’s had magnifiers, flashlights, and forward handles, as well – because I had purchased them so long ago and put them there.

“This is so we can share ammo when the time comes.” Paul said briefly.

I noted he did not say “if” the time came. It was a “when.” Like he had seen battle before. I knew he had. Paul instructed the others to put their spares in lockers that were provided in another store down the way. We were shown where the food was, where the meeting rooms were, and other important places. We were also informed the main meeting would be at noon.

I passed the time trying to get to know some of the other folks there. Like us, many of them had come from a distance to get there. Many were also survivors from this town. As it was, this town had not gone quietly. It had been taken, but not without a fight, and far from easily. It took three weeks for the invading armies to finally take control of the town square. And that’s where they were, now.

Sure enough, noon came. Paul, two other Lieutenants, and one Captain represented the militia officers on the podium, made from a former window display in a former electronics store. A Marine Lt. Colonel walked to the front and addressed the entire assembly – which included about five hundred Marines, about that many from the Air Force to fly and maintain the helicopters, and about two thousand Army. The rest were militia. We were over ten thousand strong.

The Marine Lt. Colonel explained how all of the Marines, many of the soldiers, and most of the militia would see front line action. The helicopters would come in and blast at the compound held here in town, starting the fight. Then the tanks would start to take ground on two sides. Ground troops and a few tanks would cover the retreats we would leave open.

There would be no prisoners taken. The Marine commander was clear on that point and had a steely look on his face as he explained it. “These bastards tried to take us over, they don’t deserve the respect of taking them prisoner if they surrender. They only wanted to take ours prisoner so it would be easier to exterminate us!” Was his statement.

We learned that the exterminations had been going on at all of the enemy bases. They were eradicating Americans. But there was a catch. Many of the enemy had been reported to be acting strange lately, and that was troublesome. It was as if many of them had lost their minds. We were warned to be cautious of this.

Moreover we were prepared that this operation might take several days. Possibly several weeks. I saw Sue’s look of disgust when this was announced. There would be troops to rotate being on the front lines so as to keep people fresh and tire the enemy. We would wage a war of attrition, as we now had the superior numbers and firepower here.


*****


It was early morning. I guess the military has this thing about wanting to go ahead and get things under way. I commanded about fifty troops. Five squads of ten. I had made a point to meet each of them, especially the corporals in charge of each squad. Unfortunately, I had Sue in my Platoon. Fortunately, I had Kara, Jack, and Steve, as well.

We took our positions. We would be on the front line immediately after the helicopter and tank attacks. We would be right behind a group of Marines, who would invade and try to take back ground. So far, it was looking good. There were not many guards out, and none of them had noticed us all gaining ground on their encampment.

I was looking through my spotting scope, trying to get a grip on the best place to try to take the fences down. I realized the guards were wandering around aimlessly. That was strange. I zoomed in for a closer look, but the one closest to me had his back to me. He was limping, I guess from an apparent injury. Maybe that’s why the poor guy got guard duty.

I ordered the squads into their positions and took my place along side one of them. We were to wait here until the command was given by the commander – the Marine Lt. Colonel. It seemed like hours, but in reality was no more than twenty minutes. Then I heard the order given in my earpiece.

Suddenly, the helicopters came in and started targeting the enemy vehicles. Explosions all around us, it seemed, but they were really in front of us. I heard the tanks moving in and shelling other vehicles. This would be a mostly ground assault, but the idea was to keep them from running, or calling for help.

Little did we know that they had no intention of calling for help.

After several minutes of helicopter attacks and tank shelling, we received the order to move in and take control of the land. The Marines were first, as they have so often been in the history of American wars. They punched through the fences and went to work, methodically taking ground and engaging the enemy in firefights.

My squad was right behind the Marines. We covered their right flank. I had my squads move out in a diamond formation, keeping one squad in the middle. The one in the middle and the one on the side next to the Marines were our “resting” positions. They did not actively engage the enemy. The idea was to rotate every few minutes so as to keep fresh troops to the front.

We engaged several enemy, taking them apart rather quickly with all the rifles we had. The men and women I my Platoon were excellent marksmen. It seemed slightly odd that the enemy seemed to respond very slowly to our attacks, but I know everything happens in slow motion when the adrenaline kicks in, so I paid it no mind. That would prove to be a bad idea.

We reached our stopping point. The Marines ahead of us were assigned to only advance to a certain point, and this was it. More soldiers and militia would follow in a few moments to advance further into enemy territory. In the mean time, we split into ten groups. Our job was to clear the buildings on our side. There were just over twenty of these buildings, of varying shapes and sizes, and the Marines would be helping us, as well as searching some other buildings to our rear.

On cue, each of my Corporals had their respective squads pair off and prepare to enter the buildings in fives. At my signal, each team entered by ramming down doors and cleared the buildings, room by room. My team had an old mom & pop tool store. Fairly easy as it would be one big room and just a few ancillary rooms.

We cleared the whole place quickly. No problems. As planned, we waited for the “all clear” signal from each of the groups. Our waiting was not good, because we jumped at every noise. There were occasional firefights behind us – Marines doing as we were doing, but actually engaging the enemy.

Then is happened…

Firefights erupted in several buildings; one after another. Two, three, four. Finally, seven of the ten groups were shooting. We waited in discipline, trusting each leader to call for help if it was needed. I double checked and realized Kara’s group was one of the ones in a firefight.

Screams came forth. Loud, unearthly screams. Several of the firefights died down a bit. Troops called out to one another. But something was wrong, these didn’t seem like ordinary “all clear” calls. These were more panicked. I ordered my group to stay put, and I moved closer to investigate.

I moved to the building Kara had taken – it was an old sewing shop. There were bursts of rifle fire here and there and the screams… oh, the screams. I could hear my people screaming in horror. Something was not right!

Kara came bursting out of the back. She was not tactically retreating – she was in a full-blown sprint out the front door. Then, before I could turn, I saw why. Jack was in hand-to-hand combat with one of the enemy, but the fool attacker was biting him! I saw Jack had blood coming form several open wounds. Jack finally wrestled free and put his rifle to the head of the enemy and pulled the trigger.

Blood sprayed over all of us. Jack made it back to me and out the door. I advanced, wanting to see what was going on, but was stopped dead in my tracks by someone pulling on my tactical vest.

“They are all gone. They were eaten!” Kara yelled.

“Eaten?” I asked.

My Ex wife's name is Jennifer, not Sue.  Other than that, you got her pegged.

nice twist!!! MOAR!!!!

OH YOU BASTARD!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! MOAR MOAR MOAR MOAR MOAR!

Please?

zombies eh?

For somebody named "Gripy" you don't gripe too much


>>>Usagi knocks on wood.<<<


ETA: Oh, and Lostangel, you are gonna LOVE chapter 17 if Sue describes your ex...

I agree

Yeah!

sweet story...I loves it.

Chapter 17

The general retreat took a few more minutes to sound and even longer to enact. The story that had played out for my squad was repeated all over the area. The enemy combatants had been eating our troops! What’s more, none of the folks retreating could remember ever being shot at. This was quite odd! No shooting back, but being bitten instead???

Kara was running full blast, so I tried to slow her down a bit. She responded by handing me a parcel. It was a bag, stuffed with what I thought was books, or something stiff like that.

“What’s this?” I yelled over the commotion, turning to make sure our squad was keeping up. What was left of the squad, that is.

“I found it in there before the first one attacked. It looked interesting.” Kara yelled back, running for broke.

“What happened in there?” I asked.

Kara’s face said immediately she didn’t want to talk about it. She burst into tears. To her credit, she kept a very good pace despite the crying. My mind raced. I replayed the events in my mind. Jack had been bitten. I guess the enemy troops were desperate, and just trying to stay alive. But then why were we retreating?

I was confused, to say the least. I looked over to Jack, who was keeping up a good pace. He was bleeding from several wounds. All of them looked like bite marks. I just couldn’t figure out if they were all from that one soldier, or if there was an animal in the room, too. So I asked.

“Jack, where did you get the wounds?”

“That soldier and a few of his friends. They bit us, they tried to eat us, Kyle!”

“Were there animals in the room?”

“No! It was just people. I think. They looked like people, but they didn’t act…” Jack trailed off, staring off into space.

We were coming up on the convoy trucks that would take us away. I looked over at Kara, making sure she was alright. She had no visible wounds, but I know she saw something that didn’t sit well with her. I would have to ask her later what it was she saw. Then it clicked: more people would have had to have seen the same thing… or worse. We would not have had that quick a retreat otherwise.

It was almost surreal, getting back into the transport trucks and setting off back to the base. I felt as though I was sleepwalking through the routine, we got back to base and the officers and other leaders gathered to discuss what we had encountered. The rumors were ablaze. Some folks talked about vampires and such. There were rumors of immortal people attacking us. Some even said it was demons or something supernatural. The most disturbing was the rumors of the living dead.

I instantly thought of the old zombie movies. I had seen more than a few in my day, and I really enjoyed them, though I was sure I didn’t want to live one. Sucks to be me, because guess what I was about to find out…

Back at the mall we were using as a base camp, the meeting of the officers was underway. Paul had me there, despite my lack of rank simply for two reasons. I had to know as we were in the same ‘family unit’ as the military was calling it. And of all the platoons, military and militia, I had brought back more people alive. We only lost three total. Several injuries – bites mostly, but we had forty-seven of fifty people return.

I was not glad with that statistic for several reasons. First, we lost three people. I did not want to lose any. Second, we still had people get hurt. I know this is war and all, but I still don’t have to be happy with the injury and death of my team members. Third, the only reason more of us survived is because we ran first. I hate to think that being cowardly was the reason I was being commended by so many officers this day.

Truth be told, it was the smartest thing that could have been done. We had a new enemy, that much was sure. We had no knowledge of this enemy. We were faced with tactics and abilities none of us had prepared for. Instead of plowing ahead, we regrouped. We fell back. We retreated. We fought smart.

Problem was we would still have to learn about this new enemy.

I can’t pretend to say I knew what the officers talked about. Everything in that meeting was a blur to me. The gist of it I’ve actually just let you in on, as they shared my same thoughts. And some of the officers brought up some of these points before I thought of them.

I know they had let everybody else go home early. We were going to meet tomorrow. Those with minor wounds were expected to fight through it. Those with major wounds were expected to get better, first. There were few doctors, but then, there were few really serious injuries. Maybe a few dozen severe bites. Most were fairly minor – bleeding but OK.

OK is not how we would describe it later…

We got out of the meetings late in the afternoon. I was starving, not having eaten since a light breakfast. Paul and I headed to his vehicle. The others had gone home in the other vehicle.

“You as hungry as me?” Paul asked.

“Yeah.” I said, looking at the ground. “I did not feel like eating at lunch, but then, not a lot of the others did, either.

“Seeing what we saw today, I’m surprised anybody ate at all.”

“Yeah.”

“You ain’t talkin’ a lot. Did it get to you? You know, in the head?”

“Paul, I saw some things, and we discussed some things that are pretty wild. If they’re true… well… it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“Good chance a lot of us will die before we figure out how to get these bastards. Question is, are all of ‘em like that? I mean, are there still regular ol’ bad guys in there?”

“If there were, wouldn’t they be fightin’ ‘em, too?” I noticed Paul’s speech patterns were catching on.

“More likely they’re hidin.’ Can’t say as I’d blame ‘em, either. Did you get a look at these… infected?” Paul asked.

“No. Kara saw one, though. I want to ask her. I mean, I tried to ask her, but she couldn’t say. Wouldn’t say.” I couldn’t get my head clear.

We were in his car, heading back to his place by this time.

“My mind is sayin’ I need a break. But we just fought for one day. Hell, just one morning’.”

“Yeah. I wonder how were are going to wind up having to fight these things?” I asked.

“That’s it son!” Paul exclaimed.

“What do you mean?”

“All this jabberin’ today, not a one of us said we need to learn about out enemy. That’s the thing. We needed to focus on here. We don’t know nuthin’ about ‘em. That’s one of the first rules of combat: know thy enemy. Kyle, we owe you one. I’ll make the call.”

I sat there stunned. He was right, and I’d never really seen it. I listened as he made the call on his CB. He called the captain of the militia and the other lieutenants. One of them said he would contact the military officers by radio that evening. Things were in motion.

When we got to Paul’s house, I had intended to get Austin and Kara and leave. That wasn’t going to happen, though. Just as we got out of the car, Steve came up to us.

“Jack is really sick. He’s burning up! The girls are trying to keep the fever down. We don’t know what caused this, do you?” Steve was obviously panicked.

“Just calm down, son,” Paul said. “Take us to him. Tell me, what’s going on?”

“Just like I said. Jack is really sick.” Steve said.

It took just a moment to get to his room. Sure enough, Jack was violently ill. I noticed the wounds on his neck were really red and swollen. He was delirious. I left the room so Amy and Paul could look after him. Medical knowledge I do not have. Instead, I sat in the living room with Kara and Steve. Bill came in a few moments later, Cort in tow.

Our conversation was subdued, but only lasted a few moments before Sue and Maggie had supper ready. We ate in virtual silence. I had some questions on my mind for Kara. She had seen these things. I needed to know what she’d seen.

Halfway through supper, Paul joined us. “Jack’s fever broke, we think. He’s asleep now. Amy is looking after him. I told her one of us would stay with him for a while after supper so she can eat, too.”

“I’ll do it.” Cort volunteered, barely before the words had left Paul’s mouth.

“I want everybody staying here tonight. We need to all be ready first thing in the mornin’ just in case,” Paul said. “Kyle, you, Kara, and my lil’ buddy stay here, too. Sue – no comments or drama from you. Last thing we need is more of your shit.”

Sue looked at the floor wordlessly.

Then it happened.

The door to Jack’s room burst open and we heard screams from within. Most of us were on our feet in an instant. Paul, Steve, and I raced to the room.

The screams – Amy’s screams – drowned into gurgles, then stopped. We reached the room quickly and saw a sight that has been burned into my mind for all eternity.

Jack stood before us.

No, not Jack as I’d known him. This was some shell. He was not half the man he once was. His eyes were glossed over. His skin pale. The stench was wretched. And the moans… they were… guttural, feral, and inhuman.

ZOMBIE.

The word will ever haunt me. That is what Jack was, though I did not instantly realize it. Most likely I did not recognize it due to the fact that up until this exact point in my life, I had thought them impossible. A work of fiction. A strange figment of some writer’s imagination, there to bring cheap thrills and chills.

As cliché as it will sound, I experienced a massive adrenaline dump. However, I had no inclination of yelling anything about him not touching my weapon.

My weapon.

I had my Glock at my side. Just as I thought that, Jack… or the shell of Jack, lurched at Paul and Sue, who were standing shoulder to shoulder. Paul wrestled his way behind the creature we had all come to know and care for. Sue was knocked to the floor, gaping jaws snapping at her warm, live flesh.

Paul slipped as the other two fell, losing his grip on Jack and falling awkwardly away. I heard a thump as he landed, motionless. Oh crap!

I looked back to see Jack biting at Sue’s throat. Blood was everywhere. She was gurgling and struggling in vain to keep the larger, stronger Jack off of her. When she pushed his face away, he bit into her hands. Flesh was removed violently. The scene was deteriorating at a blinding speed.

Then I realized that up until now, I had frozen in shock of the scene before me. I fumbled for my Glock at my side. In an instant a near half-inch slug of lead coated in a metal jacket was flying at Jack something just under 900 feet per second.

Hit. Right in the back. Jack looked up at me. He stood, awkwardly, and began to… meander… in my direction. I shot him again. This time it was right in the throat. His body lurched at the shock of the 230 grain impact.

I fired again, center of his chest. Almost no response other than his body being impacted by the bullet again. I was getting tired of this. He continued in my direction. I became vaguely aware of the screams of the others somewhere close behind me. They must have seen what was happening.

In a moment of frustration, I fired at his head. I originally had no desire to put down a friend like that. But he left me no choice, I was running out of space and I wasn’t about to tuck tail and run away like before.

He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Oh, boy, would some potatoes have been so good at this point. All these months of freeze-dried food, canned food, and dry goods. But I digress…

Jack was down. He was not moving. The headshot had worked. But at this time, I had not made the association. Remember, I was still under the impression that zombies were pure fiction. I had not connected the dots at this point in time.

By this time, I realized Paul was still unconscious and Sue was dying, or hopefully dead. Sorry – that was wrong of me. I had to go help.

Reholstering my Glock, I ran over to Sue, and to my horror… No, to my delight (again, sorry about that), Sue was motionless on the floor. I must admit I was somewhat saddened by loss. I held no ill will toward her.

I focused on Paul. He was still breathing. But something else caught my eye. In the room behind him, from which Jack had emerged, was Amy. Or the shell of Amy. Whatever she was, her eyes were glossed over almost pure white and her flesh was pasty. There was a big gaping hole in her neck and her midsection.

She seemed stuck behind the bed. In all the commotion of being killed, she had rolled off the far side of the bed, and was trapped between the bed and the wall. She hadn’t even seen that she could have walked around the bed to get to us. This was Paul’s lucky night.

I raced over to Paul, who was waking. He had a nasty bump on his head, but otherwise seemed OK. I checked him for bite marks, then I inadvertently put two and two together. Jack had been infected form his bites. Amy had been, too. If my guess was right, Sue would be, as well.

And that was the moment The Zombie Amy decided to walk around the bed. I lifted Paul up and we walked back toward the group. There was much crying and way too many questions to answer. I couldn’t make it all out, but I could tell they were not blaming me, most of them had seen Jack attack me.

Then Amy came out the door. The women screamed. I went for my gun. The snarls and moans coming from Amy’s mouth reinforced the fact that although she had been human, she was no more. I was sure of it. And so were the others, because right then and there, they started screaming for me to shoot her!

Shoot her, I did. The first three shots to center mass did nothing other than start a few streams of blood flowing down the front of her blouse. And the back of it, had I looked (which we did a few hours later). Then, unwillingly, I shot her in the head. She dropped like half the sack of potatoes Jack had been.

“Shoot them in the head!” I hear Kara scream. “That’s what Jack did today, and it’s what you did to him, and to Amy!”

I turned to her, “You think that’s it?”

Paul pointed back in Amy’s direction and said, “here’s our chance to find out. Sue is back!”

Sure enough, Sue had stumbled to her feet like a drunken toddler (don’t ask me how I know what that looks like!). She was moaning and had the glazed over eyes. I realized she shouldn’t even be standing since she was dead just a moment ago, with her neck half removed. Then it hit me, they die first, then they reanimate.

“Let’s see if you are right, Paul” I squeezed the trigger, shot aimed at Sue’s chest. She didn’t have much padding there to stop any bullet, much less a .45. I would know.

Sure enough, the bullet did not stop. It went clean through her. And she kept moaning and moving toward me.

I fired again at her torso. Direct hit. Again, the projectile traveled entirely through her slightly overweight body. Damn, what had I been thinking? Nevermind, I now had a legitimate reason to kill my ex.

“Now shoot her in the head!” Paul said loudly. I heard his voice crack. It was his daughter, after all.

I did as he said. The moaning stopped. She hit the floor. Blood everywhere. Damn, that’s going to take forever to clean up!

“That’s the key. You gotta hit ‘em in the head.” Paul said. “What else do we know about these bastards?”

“Don’t get bit by ‘em or you’ll die, like Jack did.” I said somberly.

Quietly, most of us slid to the floor to sit. Paul even took a knee. “What else?”

“Well, I’d say if you get bit, it takes a while to die from the bite.” Cort suggested. It made sense. That’s what happened with Jack.

“We don’t know for sure that every bite is fatal, but it might be safe to assume it is transmitted by saliva, and probably by blood.” Steve suggested.

“Like AIDS?” Kara asked.

“I guess,” Steve said.

“And what else?” Paul said.

I only later came to appreciate what he was doing. He was getting us to think out loud right after we had learned so many things, so that everybody would speak what their minds had observed and recorded. This was a real stroke of genius, or experience.

“After the person dies, it’s just a few minutes until they come back. Maybe five minutes.” I said.

“Ok, let’s rehash this. Gotta shoot ‘em in the head. The infection gets passed by bites. Once you die, you come back in five minutes. Anything else?”

“Yeah, they aren’t that smart. Amy couldn’t figure how to get out from behind the bed.” I said.

“They stumble a lot. Like they don’t have the regular motor functions or something,” Steve said.

“Good. We need to pass this on to the military tomorrow.” Paul said.

Problem was, they would have none of it.

This is another good chapter, keep up the good work.

i vow never to start an unfinished story again!! damn!

Good story! Keep it up. Yet I still don't see how this is playing out with Hitman I...

Outliners with a twist?

No - just plain ol' zombies this time!  

Chapter 18

The next day, we found out real quick how much the regular military would listen to militia. Paul pleaded with them to listen to him about what we had discovered. Paul had written our observations down and told us to keep a small log book with us, so we could write down other observations about the zombies.

All the while he was talking to people doing their best to cast him as crazy, I sat alone, thoughtful of the things I’d learned in the past twenty four hours. We were at the mall base camp, and my corporals kept coming up to me, asking what was up. I would tell them enough to get them off my back, then proceed to sulk some more.

The night before had been horrible. After cleaning up the bodies, we took them outside and burned them, staying upwind from the smoke, just in case. The women cleaned the blood from the floors, which was a much harder task than I would have ever imagined. The movies always make it seem so… simple. It’s not. Let’s just keep it at that.

So here I sat, maybe two hours sleep. Brass from the military won’t listen. They don’t even want to do scouting missions. Damn Marines, always want to go kick in doors. They just didn’t realize there is a time and place for that, though it was not now. They’d understand, though. And before this day was through.

The radios were all ablaze. Seems our attack had been coordinated with dozens of others throughout the nation. Seems everybody ran into similar situations. Nobody had any answers, though.

After a couple of hours of sulking and keeping the other enlisted folk somewhat entertained or otherwise busy, cleaning their weapons or whatever, Paul finally came down and pulled me and the other Sergeants aside.

“Guys, the officers don’t want our information. They say it’s unverified.”

“Don’t they see that even if we just educate the soldiers, the information by itself can’t hurt?” Said one Sergeant Cortez.

“They’re afraid that soldiers might panic, or alter their fighting styles, and that this could lead to more people getting killed.” Paul replied.

“Only one way to find out,” I said almost out of the corner of my mouth.

“That’s right,” Paul responded. “And although we aren’t supposed to do it, I’m gonna have Kyle here tell our whole outfit about what we found out. Any objections?”

Nobody flinched. Nobody wanted to. We all wanted the information out to our people.

“Alright, then. Meeting in thirty minutes. I’ll get the place, you folks get your people.” Paul said.

With that, he turned and left. The other sergeants went and got their folks together. Mine were already here. We got word moments later from Paul on where to meet. And with that, it was my turn.

I had never done much public speaking, and I never considered this to be public speaking until after it was over. This was good, because I never got nervous. I hear that’s a real problem with many people.

Next thing I knew, we were in the room and Paul had turned it over to me.

“Look, first thing I want to make clear is that I am not an expert. What I’m about to share is what several people observed, nothing more. Please use your own discretion when engaging these… things.”

“Enough with the politically correct bullshit, get to it!” Sgt. Cortez said. He was right.

“Ok, then. Here’s what we’ve seen. These things are the dead reanimated. They are not people like you and me. Not anymore. They have eyes that are glazed over, pasty skin, and they smell horrible.

“This… infection… is transferred by bite. It might be transferred by any sharing of bodily fluids. We just don’t know all the details yet. Once bitten, it is possible you will die. One of my friends did yesterday. Once you die, you become one in about five minutes or so.

“When the dead rise, they will try to eat you. Some of us saw this already. There is no negotiation, there is no exception. They must be killed. And to do that, you must shoot to the head.”

Murmurs went up all over the room.

“Hey, I didn’t invent these rules, I’m just the one Paul wanted to tell you all about them. If somebody has an issue with it, take it up with God.”

“Sorry, Kyle. It’s just that this is hard to believe,” Cortez said.

“Have you seen one?” I asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I saw three last night. I killed them. They had been friends. One had been my ex-wife,”

Chuckles broke out.

“Not funny. And don’t think I’m just defending her, Several in this room saw it with me. Including Paul. It was his daughter.”

You could have cut the silence with a knife.

“It’s true. You listen to Kyle’s words. Shoot ‘em in the head. If they are a former friend or loved one, just say a prayer for them, then put them down. They won’t stop eating just because it’s you. I’ve seen it.” Paul said.

All eyes were on the floor. The point had been made.

“Guys, they move real slow.” I continued. “And they have no coordination. You can easily outrun one, even if you are wounded. I don’t know if they can climb stairs, we didn’t let them try…”

More laughter.

“The most important thing is to keep from direct contact. We think this infection might be carried in the blood. We know it can be passed by a bite. Stay away from them. Let your commander know if you get bitten. Watch each other’s backs. That’s all.” I wrapped up.

“Remember, head shots. Keep your distance. If it gets hand-to-hand range, you gotta create some distance and don’t go and get bit. And remember to keep your eyes open for the sunz-uv-bitches that got us into this war to start with!” Paul said in a more firm tone than I could have managed in his situation.

Paul had a few more directions for us, mostly about team assignments and what we would be doing this time around. Neither of us felt we should be engaging this enemy. Not right now. Not until we knew more. I suspected this might be an ill-advised offensive.

We rode to the enemy encampment. Something was not quite right. We did not see as many of the reanimated as we had before. I knew now that what we had been looking at the last time was indeed zombies. This time, though, there were not as many of them around. I couldn’t figure it out. We were going to coordinate the strike at high noon. All Army, Marines, and Militia would spread out in squads and take their positions.

Sure enough, the time passed, and the order was given. We each had assignments. The most common assignment was the clearing of a specific building. The thinking was, I guess, that if we cleared all the buildings, we would eventually eliminate all hiding places. Then we would secure the buildings behind us and move on. Seemed like a logical plan, at least.

But not the best plan that I could think of.

But it wasn’t my place to be generating a plan. Just to carry out orders. And to bring my people back alive. And as far as those two things were concerned, I was going to do the second at the expense of the first. It was not my intention to disregard orders, but I put the lives of my men and women above orders from leadership I was not ‘required’ to follow.

I adjusted the bill of my boonie hat and flipped my magnifier to the side. We would be fighting in close, today. No sniper shots for us. I looked again at the map. My Platoon was assigned buildings near the perimeter of the town square, meaning, we could move out into the open countryside fairly quickly if need be.

The order was given.

We moved as one toward the buildings. Platoons were pretty evenly spaced among the Militia. We were not as sharp as the regular troops, but not far off, either. The main thing that separated us was the different kinds of uniforms worn by the Militia, whereas the Army and Marines were all the same uniform, same pattern.

As we marched, I checked my tools. Glock – check. Extra mags for the pistol – check. Extra mags for the rifle – check. Radio headset –check. Not much else I would need.

The buildings were upon us. We spread out, each Platoon to its assigned building. I moved to join up with Kara’s squad. Nobody batted an eye at that, it was understood. I looked at her. She had been sick at her stomach again this morning, and I wanted to make sure she was up to this. She had assured me several times today that she was.

We clicked in to Paul, indicating our Platoon was in position. A few moments later – and it seemed like an eternity – the second order was given. All over the small town square, the sounds of war began.

Doors breaking down.

Yells.

Gunfire.

General chaos – in an organized manner, of course.

Kara had one of the troops break down the door in front of us. This building had three floors, each was about two thousand square feet according to the schematics we had been given that morning. From what I could see, those plans were fairly accurate.

The entryway was dark, but so was the whole building. Those of us with flashlights on our weapons lit them up. As a squad, we would stop at every door, three would enter and clear the room, and the rest of us would guard the flanks.

One. Two. Three doors without incident. Then everything went to hell on the fourth. It was not from behind the door, though. No, from deeper in the building, around a corner, moans and groans were heard. Then they were on us like that. For slow-moving creatures, these things moved pretty fast.

When one of the men would shine his light on a zombie, it would screech at him and turn its face. We learned quickly that this presented a great opportunity to shoot, because other than shrinking back from the light, these monsters advanced at all times!

Hordes of the things came from the dark. For every one we would shoot, three would take its place. But they were not coming from the stairs, and that was what puzzled me. I figured with this many, they would have to be hiding upstairs. As my group and I spread out to be able to shoot from multiple angles at the hordes, I saw why.

Toward the back, there was a door. The noise of our battle was drawing more and more from that door. I figured if we could close it, then we would have a strategic advantage.

“Kara! The door,” I said, pointing toward it. “They are coming from there. I’m going to go up the stairs part-way, and close it from there. You come with me and have your squad cover us!”

“Got it!” Kara said. She turned to another troop and indicated what we were going to do. After a moment, they got it and we were up and running.

The hordes of monsters kept coming. There had to be more than twenty of them here now, not including the dozen or so we had already shot down. Kara and I darted between our squad and the back wall and went around the room and to the stairwell. We climbed the dozen or so stairs quickly and reached the area where the door was. The top of the door was about even with our knees, so we sat at the edge of the stairs and pushed the door shut with our feet.

Shots rang out. Screams rang out over the shots. Kara and I ducked around to the other side of the stairwell to look on so we would not be in the line of fire.

I looked just in time to see one of the young men get bitten by two zombies rushing him from either side. Another troop came over to pull one off and was bitten for his efforts. Three more troops came to their aid and shot the offending zombies.

On the far side of the room, a Specialist was locked in hand-to-hand combat with another undead. This was never a good option. Another troop came out of nowhere and slammed into the zombie at full speed, knocking all three of them to the ground. The Specialist rolled away, but the troop was pinned down by the zombie who had, by luck, rolled to the top position during the fall.

The troop was bitten, quite severely, on the neck and screamed out. The Specialist was back in the fight in no time, kicking the female zombie away. As the zombie turned to stand, she was met with a 5.56 mm shot to the head. The 62-grain projectile won, as expected.

Scenes like this blossomed up all over the room, but one thing was clear – those who kept their distance from the zombies had a distinct advantage. If one or more zombies got too close, a bite was very likely. But these folks remembered what Paul and I had told them. Kara and I picked off a few when the shots were there. Eventually the tide turned and the living out-fought the dead.

It had taken a great effort, as there were many zombies pushing into the room, but we finally did it. After a few moments of rifle fire, all was quiet and the Specialist called out; “Clear!”

Kara and I jumped down to the floor level. Kara threw the bolt on the door as we heard banging from the zombies as they tried to get in. We took note of casualties. Three men had been bitten! Shit!

As per directives from this morning, we locked those in a room with their supplies and no weapons. But the mere mention of this set off more fighting.

“You can’t lock us in here,” a young private said.

“We have to, my man.” I countered. “Folks who turn into one of those things come from the bitten. We can’t take a chance on the rest of us!”

“We won’t go.” He said sternly.

I put my hand on the grip of my rifle. “Let’s not go down this path.”

My point was taken and, reluctantly, the men turned in their weapons. Of course, they had protested. I would have, too. But ultimately they had no choice. There was some weeping and many handshakes going around as they went into the room. I hated to do it, but I knew what would happen.

Kara closed the door and we spray-painted the room with the pre-determined symbol for healthy-but-bitten. This was, according to top brass, supposed to be an ongoing experiment to verify that the infection was spread through bites.

Then something happened. I realized later that all of the noise of putting these men in, I had not heard the sounds coming from the building. Our building. There were voices in here. They were coming from above!

Kara and I looked up, then at each other. The rest of the men and women understood without having to be told. We went back into tactical mode and fanned out as we climbed the stairs – cutting the pie at each corner as we had learned to do from our military brethren.

On this went for what seemed like hours. In reality it was several minutes – maybe fifteen. All the while, I heard a growing ruckus coming from outside. It was obvious that many other units had encountered zombies. But we had another fact to uncover before we could go assist the others.

On the third floor, at the second door we opened, we found the source of the noise…

DAMMIT!

good job .... faster faster!!

???

I felt the same way when I finished the chapter.  Meaning I was so into it that I was disappointed when I came to the end.

EXACTLY!  i for one, VOW to never start an unfinished story again, i hate waiting!  and for those who say good things come to those who wait.....i hate you for being right!

Chapter 19

Huddled in the room were a half dozen people. All of them were apparently of Chinese origin, four men and two women. They cowered away form us as we opened the door. I guess seven rifles pointed in your direction can do that.

“No shoot. No shoot. P-rease!” said one of the men, in the front.

“Hands up!” I instructed. I could not tell if these were enemy combatants or simply people who had been here before. I couldn’t take a chance to not racially profile. Funny thing was that the two black men and one Hispanic woman in the squad did not seem to mind one bit. The days of liberal pussification were clearly over. We simply could not afford those ‘luxuries’ anymore.

The Chinese folks kept their hands in the air, after a quick translation by the man who first spoke. He then turned back to me, “P-rease, sir. No shoot. We no Army. We been in America long time.”

“How long?”

“Three year. We run sew shop here.”

“Sew shop?” I couldn’t quite make out what he meant here. It was obviously much harder to hear it then than to write it now. “What the hell is a ‘sew-shop’?”

“Sew pant,” he said, gripping his pants. “Sew shirt. Fix hole. Fix button.”

His broken English was starting to make sense. To me now. “Where was your shop?”

“There,” he said, pointing out a window to the streets below. Across the way, there was a sign, “Chan’s Sew Shop.’ Some Army units were retreating from the building, being chased by about a dozen Z’s. “My shop – broken.” He said. He was right, the Army had really shot the place up.

“You all sew?” I asked. I am still not sure why, except I had a bit of distrust for them, and understandably so.

“No. I sew. Woman sew,” he pointed to a woman next to him, and another on the other side. “Man work in… uhhh,” he looked puzzled, searching for the word. “Eat place. Many people. People eat. People pay.”

“A restaurant? They work in a restaurant?”

“Yes. Make food.” He said.

“How did you get here?”

Another puzzled look. “Walk up stair.” He said.

“Why?”

“Army fight America. We afraid of Army. China Army very strong. Take American prisoner. No want China prisoner. Shoot China man.”

“You came here when they attacked?”

“Yes. We stay down. Wait for Army to go. Then we move. Come here many day,” he started to blink rapidly, and I saw more than one tear run down his face. “Many of us come here. Six of us now.”

“There were more of you?”

“Yes. Chirren. More men. More woman. Seven Chirren.”

“Seven children?”

“Yes. Five boy. Two girl.” I liked the way he said girl and I couldn’t possibly write it like he said it. It almost sounded like the word ‘color.’ “They no here now. They sick. They die. They walk again.”

“They are one of those monsters?” I asked.

“Yes. Monster!” He rolled his eyes up, started walking with a limp and his arms out in front of him in a groping manner. “Uuuhhhhh,” he moaned – just like the zombies.

“Zombies.” I said.

“Zom… bee?”

“Yes. Zombie.” I said, imitating his own imitation. There were scant smiles around both groups. I noticed my folks had put their weapons down.

“Zombie eat man,” he said. “Man get sick. Die. Make zombie?”

“Yes. That’s it.”

“We come here. Zombie no walk on stair. Zombie not fast.”

“Good thinking,” I said. “We will have to use this knowledge, too, folks.” I said as I turned to the squad. “Ok, check these folks for weapons, then they come with us.”

“What are we going to do with them?” Kara asked.

“Let brass handle them. If it was me, I’d just let them go their own way,” I said. Then I turned to the man again. “My name is Kyle,” I said, pointing to myself.

“Ky-ruh?” He attempted to repeat.

“”Kyle” I said slowly and deliberately.

He almost said it right this time, then he pointed to himself, “Chan.”

“Good to meet you, Chan,” I said, hand extended. He shook it.

“Chan, do any of you have any weapons?”

“Weapons?”

“Like guns? Knives?”

“No. No guns. No knife. I had kitchen knife, but I lose it many day ago.” He said.

“OK, these soldiers are going to check you for guns.” I said. Chan offered no resistance. I guess he figured that was a small trade off for safety.

“Kara, go get on the horn and see where the rest of the Platoon is.” I ordered. He did as I had said, but with a bit of a sharp look in her eye, as if to tell me not to push my luck with that too many times.

She came back in a few moments with a worried look on her face. “Kyle, everybody is… gone. I mean, Steve is there, and Cortez. And one or two others. But they are all holed up and they say everybody else is gone. Bitten. Dead.” She broke down and wept.

I went to the outside and saw why. Everywhere, the Army was retreating. The Marines, who never back down, were tactically giving ground so as to be able to save the few men they had left and get out of there. I heard the radio chatter and it was at a fevered pitch. The building we were in must have squelched out most of it.

Worst news of all was that from what I heard on the channels, there weren’t many Militia left. The zombies were out in force and had flanked us all. There were thousands of them. Not just Chinese and Arabic, but Americans, too. The prisoners they had taken must have become infected, too!

This was too much.

We had to get out, and now. And I’d be damned if I left one alive behind! I went to the door where we had put the bitten troops. I peeked in. Sure enough, they had died and turned.

“Kara! Get the positions of the others and let’s get everybody out of here!” I said fairly loudly.

Kara, to her credit, got up and got on the radio. A few moments later, she had their positions. All four of them. Plus the seven we had, that meant my Platoon of fifty was now down to eleven. That’s just one squad. Thirty nine men and women who had counted on me had been killed. I had let them down.

I was reminded of the pain I had at the beginning, when I was wallowing in self pity over my ex and her taking my son away from me. That was nowhere near as severe as almost forty people losing their lives on my watch. The pain crept in and festered. Fear had its moment in me, and was set in its place now.

It took mere moments for all of the remaining in our Platoon to gather together. Zombies were out everywhere. But, for some reason, they were not heading toward us. That puzzled me. I looked at the sky and noticed the two-o’clock sun. We had been here two hours. Then it dawned on me.

Shadows.

The zombies were staying in the shadows. The ones earlier had shied away from our flashlights. Something about bright light makes them shy away. Hmmm.

We were out in the open. But I knew we could not stay here long. The Z’s were moving our way. If the sun was at their backs, they seemed to not care as much about the light. Maybe they just preferred the dark, but hunger would motivate them more than the light?

I was not about to let what remained of my team to be the Guinea Pigs to find out. “Let’s go. Retreat to the transports. Get in a big truck, we will leave in one!”

The eleven of us, followed by the six Chinese, made a bee-line for the place where the transport trucks had been parked.

And stopped well short when we cleared the rise and saw where they were.

Zombies. Everywhere. Out in the light. Eating our fellow Militia, the Army, and the Marines. A few firefights remained, but this one was over, and it wasn’t the good guys that were going to win this one!

Had my group been the only one to see success? No, couldn’t be. I would check, though! “Paul, do you read me?” I said into the radio.

Static.

“Paul, do you read me?”

“Paul and some of the others left thirty minutes ago,” Steve said.

“Where to?”

“Retreat. We would have joined them, but I didn’t want to leave you, and I could not get you on the radio.”

“How did you know I was even alive?”

“Come on, Kyle, you’re smarter than any of the brass, or even Paul. I knew you had these things figured out when you gave the talk this morning. If I had to bet on any one person in our group getting out alive and in one piece, it would be you. And I knew Kara would be by your side.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but it might not help you now.” I replied.

“Let’s just see about that. Now here’s the deal, we may not find a vehicle over the ridge to escape in. Do you have a backup plan?” Steve asked.

“No,” I said. “But we’ll figure one out. Everybody be thinking while we’re haulin’ ass!”

We ran.

The ridge came, but contrary to Steve’s prediction, there were many vehicles left. Then it dawned on me. Most of the military would not be leaving. They were dead. Or undead.

We took smaller vehicles, realizing any others who would run might have more with them than we had right now. Not likely, but possible. This decision, however, proved to be unsound this time.

I was in the bed of a pickup truck that Kara was driving. There were a couple others in the cab with Kara. Most of the rest were split between a minivan and some sort of SUV. As we rode along, I realized there were a good number of undead out here, as well. Most of them were loitering in areas with deep shadows. I had an idea.

I started taking potshots at the undead as we rolled along. This was not a bad idea in and of itself. However, it was certainly a silly thing to do while moving. Especially if one is prone to really get in to whatever it is that he is doing – like I did at that moment.

A bump was all it took.

I was thrown from the vehicle as Kara took a turn. I hit the ground hard. I rolled to a stop and took a few moments to collect myself. I remember thinking Kara would be pissed at me for making her come back and get me. Slowly, painfully, I got to my feet. And then I realized there was something really bad wrong…

Great Update, I can't wait to see where this goes!

I think it has been said before but you are one hell of a writer.  Can't wait for the next chapter.

Thank you!

Comments like this encourage me to post more chapters more frequently.

Unfortunately, I'm about halfway done with this story.

That is not allowed

Very good writing.....because of you my company paid for me to read it today