Dead Air (Book One of The Dead Series) (21 page)

Suddenly
, he tensed. Something looked different in his shadowy living room. Cautiously, he slid his hands along the wall and flipped on the light. When he saw what had attracted his attention, his stomach dropped and he knew he was through.

He
could now see the beginning of the end. Ginny had replaced his favorite chair.

To Steve's way of thinking, women would make better snipers than men. They were much more patient and cunning in achieving their goal. Once their target had been identified, they worked with a slow stealth that put a ninja to shame.

The chair is the first step to my downfall, he thought.

Long before a woman moves in with you, and eventually drags you kicking and screaming to the altar, she puts her insidious plan to work.
Starting with the furniture, she gets rid of it slowly over a period of time. A piece here, a piece there, and before you know it, you're sitting in a chair that isn't at all comfortable but does match the rest of the living room set.

And i
f you're not wise to the ways of women, you'll wake up sleeping on a mattress and box spring that has a ruffled duster and matching bedspread.

I
t happens so slowly; you don't even realize it when all of your furniture has been replaced. One day it's suddenly gone and you're living in a world of earth tones. The worst part is when she acts like she's doing you a favor. This was proven in the current situation by the note left on the seat that said; I thought you'd like this. You'll look sexy sitting in it. Love, Ginny.

Worrying that he
’d missed some other sign that this was coming, Steve looked wildly around at everything in the living room. Sometimes a woman would start with something smaller before going for the deathblow. After a frantic search though, he felt relief wash through him as he saw that all of his belongings appeared to be in place.

Looking down at the new uncomfortable looking recliner,
he said with contempt, "Amateur. You should have started with stuff I wouldn't notice. You tipped your hand too soon, and now I'm onto you."

She would learn
and evolve, Steve thought. I must be her first serious victim, but with practice she would have the subtle take over down to a fine art in no time.

After the furniture, a woman would then move onto the next step
, Steve mused. Every horizontal open space would start to sprout a doily with some kind of Hummel, scented candle, or other knick-knack placed tastefully on it. When this happened, it was your natural ass, baby. You were through. By now she had your hairstyle and clothes changed to her liking, and even your shampoo was a fragrance she picked out for you.

Setting down his backpack, Steve gripped the Glock tightly and went back outside. He found his chair sitting by the garbage dumpster and was grateful no one had taken it or dumped a bag of
trash in the seat. Sticking the pistol in the back of the waistband of his Levi's, he dragged his property back into the apartment.

Moving Ginny's replacement in front of the door, he put his chair in its rightful position and settled into it.
Although he sat on the couch with Ginny when she was over, when he was alone he relaxed in his throne.

His cell phone buzzed, and seeing it was Heather, Steve answered by asking in an accusing voice, "Do you watch that show called The Other View?"

Knowing that Steve answered his phone in ways other than a simple hello, Heather thought she was prepared for anything, but this threw her. It took her a second to figure out what he was asking but even then she had to make sure.

"The one with the fat loser chicks who were thrown off
all the other talk shows?" She asked.

"That's the one
," Steve replied.

"I wouldn't even
turn that trash on. Just thinking about watching it makes me want to open a vein," she answered.

"What about my favorite
chair. Would you ever try to replace it?" He asked.

Heather paused, causing Steve to think, Gotcha.  There's no way around it. The code is too deeply ingrained in their DNA.

She surprised him by saying, "If it wasn't too ratty or smelled, and it was your favorite chair, I'd try to buy other furniture to match it instead of throwing it out. Why are you asking these questions? Have you been drinking?"

Ignoring this, Steve thought of proposing marriage
but realized it was too soon. Heather would still have to pass the “this side of the bed is mine”, and “who gets the remote control?” tests, just to name a few. It could be years before marriage was an option. And even then…

Instead he asked, "Do you know anywhere I can get gas?"

"The taco bus," She replied confidently. "Does it to me every time. Thank God we only do single officer patrols in the squad cars or I'd end up with a homicide rap. You're lucky you have your Jeep because you can put the top down."

Steve laughed, "Fuel for my Jeep, Heather."

"Well that's different, why didn’t you say so. Do you have enough to last until tomorrow?"

"
Shouldn’t be a problem," he replied

"When the Governor announces martial law
, you'll receive vouchers for fuel since you're essential personnel. You run the radio station and it's needed for the Emergency Broadcast System, so you get gas. They haven't given us all the details yet but we do know which units of the National Guard are going to be here and who we're working with, so I'll try to find out who you go to. You should be able to draw supplies from them." She then rattled off a few unit designations and where they'd be operating. The closest unit to Steve would be setting up at the high school on Gulf to Bay Boulevard, a short drive from downtown.

"It'll be nice to get some help," Heather commented. "We're running ragged trying to keep everything together. Since I talked to you this morning I've gone on
sixty-seven calls. Accidental shootings, a couple on purpose shootings, assaults, robberies and six reported cases of looting. But worse than that is we've got so many missing persons reports coming in that it's starting to get scary."

"How many
zombies?" Steve asked.

"Fifteen
, but I haven't seen one yet. The Emergency Service guys get those calls. Somebody said Tampa is hopping. They've had over two hundred reported attacks."

"That's not good if you do the math," Steve said. Grabbing paper and pencil from the coffee table he wrote a few figures, "If one
zombie infects ten people a day, in five days, two hundred dead can make one hundred thousand zombies. Now I can see how this spread so fast."

"Yeah," Heather agreed, "and after what happened in San Francisco, the fifteen Z's that our guys killed today might only be the tip of the iceberg. We've got people gearing up to sweep the storm drains tomorrow morning
so maybe they'll find all the missing people." Heather hesitated before continuing, "But if they do find them, I don't think they'll be alive."

"I read something about San Francisco on the
Internet,” Steve said."The dead were hiding in the sewers under the city."

"
Thousands of them," Heather added.

"You're not going down there are you?" Steve asked, concerned.

"Hell no," Heather replied vehemently. "I get claustrophobic in my bathroom. Besides, I'm off duty at seven. The ESU guys are going in at nine, once the National Guard troops take over some of their duties. The Guard is moving into place this evening and will activate as soon as the Governor signs the paper declaring statewide martial law tomorrow."

Steve wanted to talk more but Heather said, "I
gotta get back to the job, my break's over. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Any chance I can see you instead?" Steve asked tentatively.

"Only if I'm arresting you," she said with a laugh. "I get six hours down time so I can get some sleep, then I'm back on duty at one PM. I'll call in the morning and – well, I'd like to see you too, so let me find out what's up and get back to you."

They exchanged goodbyes and hung up.

Steve felt tired even though it was still early. After wedging the chair Ginny had left him in front of the door, he laid on the couch for a quick nap.

Thoughts of what he still needed to do ran through his mind, clashing with thoughts of Heather and Ginny. Eventually, he fell into a restless sleep.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Washington, DC:

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs called the men around the table to order, "I've called this meeting to inform you that the President has finally decided to declare martial law."

"It’s about damn time," the Marine Commandant stated flatly.

Holding up his hand for silence
, the Chairman continued, "On Tuesday."

Outraged, the Marine General said, "That's too damn late. We've got reported outbreaks from San Diego to Van Buren
, Maine and from Key West to Seattle, Washington. If we don’t do something immediately, the whole country will be overrun, and the military will be too weak to deal with it."

"It seems like that's
already happened," The Army Chief of Staff interjected. "Even though at the onset of the disease we restricted everyone to the post, most of the Army bases around the country have had outbreaks. In addition, our morale is scraping rock bottom and AWOL rates have sky rocketed. Right now the Army stands at about sixty-five percent effectiveness and that's an average. Some units could go as low as forty percent. Also, the NSA, CIA and DIA have ceased to give accurate intelligence estimates as to how bad certain areas of the country have deteriorated. We've had to rely on media coverage to assess the worst spots."

"The Corps is in better
shape," the Commandant stated proudly. "Most of what we have is more consolidated. Pendleton, Lejeune and Quantico are still safe areas, but for how long no one knows, if the President doesn't act soon."

"The President has recalled all armed forces from overseas to help enforc
e martial law," the Chairman informed them. "So make the appropriate arrangements to transport and house them."

The Chiefs made notes and conversed quietly with their aides. When they finished, the Chairman spoke again, "The President has authorized the Army to reinforce selected units of the National Guard. At the same time he wants to hold the Marine Corps in reserve should that fail."

"So he took neither proposal to go in and deal with the problem decisively or fall back," the Navy Chief stated.

"He compromised,"
the Chairman informed them. "Elections are coming up so he doesn't feel it would be in his best interest to push in any one specific direction."

The Marine Commandant let out a dry barking laugh, "There
won’t be anyone left alive to vote if he keeps sitting on the fence, that’s unless you count the walking dead. That socialist ass will give a whole new meaning to the phrase voting the graveyard."

No one at the table laughed. The Chairman gave the Commandant a reproving look
, which was ignored, before donning his reading glasses and saying, "General, you’ve been given a list of cities that have been abandoned or are in extremely bad shape. Begin putting together an operation to retake and secure those areas starting with the first ten on the list. These are the most critical to the security of the United States."

Consulting his copy, the Chairman read out loud, "Atlanta is a communication and transportation hub so it takes priority. Followed by New York and San Francisco. New York hasn't been completely evacuated yet
, but it will be by Tuesday."

"Next are New Orleans, St. Louis
and Minneapolis St. Paul. These three cities will be used to secure the Mississippi River and be used as bases to conduct further operations. Miami, San Diego and Seattle round out the list as they'll be needed for shipping."

"Some of those cities have only reported a small number of infections,"
the Marine General pointed out.

Removing his glasses, the Chairman said, "By the time we get the order for martial law on Tuesday, we project that all the cities on that list will be heavily infected and most will have
to be abandoned."

Looking down at the paper in front of him, the Marine Commandant asked, "What about the other ninety-seven cities on the list?"

The Chairman answered, "Your counterpart in the Army will work with you in securing those population centers at a later date. The situation remains fluid as more cities are added to the list, but the ones I've specified are the ones we need to concentrate on now."

The Chairman casually tossed his reading glasses onto a pile of paper in front of him before saying, "Gentleman, we need to secure the United States from this threat as soon as possible. I want to bring it to your attention that this crisis,
while horrible, will give us a chance to expand American interests worldwide with a minimum amount of resistance. You’ve read the reports on how bad it's gotten in this country, and you know it's ten or twenty times worse in others, so we have to pull together and eradicate this zombie menace from our shores as soon as possible. Once we've accomplished this, we can then move into other parts of the world unopposed by any organized resistance."