Survive (26 page)

John looked at the cages and noticed for the first time each one held several cowering figures. They had hidden in the corners or pressed themselves to the floor as the shooting had started. John opened the first cage, which held a teen-aged girl and an older woman. A third figure lay prone on the ground. The woman looked up at John. “He fell when the shooting started. I think he’s been shot.”

“Do you know him?” John asked as he rolled the prone man over, he saw that she had been correct. An entrance wound lay just over the man’s heart. He felt for a pulse but found none.

“No, he was already here when they brought my daughter and me in four days ago.” She pulled the teen girl close as they walked past the dead man.

John moved on to the next cell, and the one after that. Each one had three people in it. Sara helped Jose out of the cage. His legs were not yet working correctly as they moved out and headed for the doorway. She held her P90 out in front of them one-handed. John noted with pride that the gun pointed steadily in front of her.

The other prisoners followed them, some picking up weapons from the dead zealots, with John bringing up the rear. As he walked past a body he noted again the strange smell, stronger than ever before. As he bent down to examine the body closer he noticed from the corner of his eye that Sara had crossed back into the room.

She had stopped at the old woman’s corpse and bent down to see what was left of her skull. Standing again, she began to kick the body in the stomach. “You mother fucker,” she yelled. “You sick bitch! My brother? Who the fuck do you think you are?” She kept screaming, words phasing into animalistic yells. The mother of the teenager covered her daughter’s ears.

“She’s not normally like this,” John attested to the crowd of the newly released prisoners.

Jose crept over to his sister, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her away from the woman. “I’m okay, Sara. I’m right here. We’re okay. Please, let’s get out of here.”

Sara regained herself, but the look of rage didn’t leave her face. “Yeah, let’s go,” she said, retraining her P90 and leading the group up the stairs. John held post at the back, trying not to look at the faces of the fallen strewn on the tables.

They walked out of the church and into the sunlight. Some of the ex-prisoners cried openly in the parking lot of the parish. Sara urged the group on towards the waiting Humvee. John scanned the area but saw nothing threatening. Not willing to take any chances, however, he pulled open the passenger door.

“I know it’s going to be a tight fit, but everyone climb in. Sit on someone’s lap if you have to. Sara, you drive. I’ll be in the turret.” He reached in and grabbed the extra P90 he’d brought. Jose’s face broke into a toothy grin as John handed the little gun to him.

“The selector switch is here, and the shells drop from here...” John began, glad to know that at least something would be able to make his brother-in-law smile.

“Duh, man. I know all about the P90. I have one in Call of Duty!”

John shook his head and handed Jose a couple of extra magazines.

“Alright, we’re heading back to our compound. You’ll be safe there, and there’s plenty of food. Anybody who doesn’t want to come, you’re free to go.”

People began climbing into the Humvee. Jose pulled John aside. “We have to go pick up the plastic for the armor. It’s not very far away.”

“Forget it, Jose. We have to get these people back to the compound.”

“No, we have to get the plastic. I can finish the armor. We’ll be safer every time we leave the compound. John, we’ll have a... what’s the word...a tactical advantage.”

John looked at Jose. The teen’s face showed none of the horror he’d endured, just hope and enthusiasm. He thought back to all of the family members he’d lost to Zed attacks. Simple little slips that led to bites. He thought about who would still be with them if they’d had such an advantage. Dad, he thought. Dammit.

He sighed. “Alright, but we’ll have to make another trip. We don’t have room for anything extra. It’ll be tight as it is.”

“Take me back to my truck. It still runs. I hit my head on the steering wheel when they sideswiped me, but it’ll go.”

John thought for a moment. “Alright, we’ll go get the truck, but I’ll drive it. You’re with Sara. You were way out of line leaving the compound like that, and don’t think I’m going to forget it any time soon. I’m not taking any more risks than I have to with you. Jesus, kid, don’t you know what it would do to your sister and your mom if anything happened to you? I don’t think you realize how much they love you, Jose.” Even as he yelled at Jose, John pulled a roll of duct tape from the rear compartment of the Humvee and began wrapping it around Jose’s wounded arm. Sara heard the yelling and walked over.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“We’re going back to get Jose’s truck, then I’m going to drive it to the plastics factory.”

“What? Oh no you’re not!” Sara stomped her foot angrily.

“Sara, sweetheart, I know. Believe me, I know. But Jose’s right, we need this advantage. I believe he can get the armor to work. Think about it.”

“But John, we almost lost him once. We have to get back home!” Sara said, lowering her voice.

John pulled her close and held her. He ruffled her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t you patronize me, John,” she mumbled.

He stopped, realizing he was coddling her. “Baby, we need this. Think of everyone we’ve lost. If we can do anything to keep our people safer, you know we have to do it.”

Sara ground her teeth in frustration. Finally, she softened and relaxed into John’s grip. “Alright, but you’re not going alone,” she whispered. John hugged her tightly.

* * *

The Humvee pulled up to Jose’s pickup truck. It was exactly as they’d left it, sitting across the middle of the intersection. John climbed down out of the turret.

“Jose, you’re in the turret. Don’t fire at anything unless it gets close to the trucks. We’re not here to take any extra chances.”

Jose nodded and scrambled up into the turret. He pulled his P90 up with him and sat there. Somehow he’d acquired a white head band. He sported the duct tape on his arm like a badge of honor.

John looked into the Humvee and pointed to a grizzled, bearded man in his 60’s. The man now carried the double barrel shotgun and a belt of cartridges.

“Do you know how to use that thing?” John asked.

“Well, it ain’t the M60 I used in ‘Nam, but it’ll do for now.” The man drawled lazily. A heavy scar marred the tanned, wrinkled face, running from forehead to jaw on the left side of his face.

“Good enough. I’m John. John Mason. That’s my wife Sara, and you’ve already met her brother, Jose.”

The man climbed out of the Humvee and shook John’s hand. “Emmet Stoltz.”

“Emmet, I need you to come with me in the truck. We’re going to pick up some supplies at a factory nearby, and then we’ll get you folks to safety. You up for it?”

The older man nodded. “Guess I owe you folks anyway. Might as well start working on that right now.”

John motioned to the truck and ran around to the driver’s side. Emmet jumped in to the passenger side, and John started the vehicle. The engine turned over on the first try. He barely heard Jose’s “I told you so!” as he pulled out in front of the Humvee.

* * *

The trip to the plastics factory took less than ten minutes. The strange absence of Zeds continued almost until they reached the factory. Just outside the parking lot, a lone Zed in a blue uniform with a badge and a hat that had “Security” emblazoned on it, wandered back and forth, less than twenty feet from a little guard shack. Sara sped up and passed John as they saw the Zed. Jose shot the Zed several times in the chest, neck, and head, as the Humvee approached the parking lot.

John frowned as he pulled into the empty parking lot behind the Humvee. He jumped out and started walking toward Sara, words of rebuke forming on his lips. She slid out of the driver’s seat and held up her hand.

“Don’t, John. Don’t say a fucking word. Just get in there, get what you need, and get back out in one piece.” She said. John heard how brittle her voice was and said nothing.

Jose climbed down from the turret. “I don’t know where the stuff is, but it’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“Tell me what I’m looking for, exactly,” John said to Jose.

The teen thought to himself for a moment. “Just big sheets of plastic. The ones that I have at the compound had this company’s logo on them, so they might have the exact same things here. That’s what we need.” Jose sketched out the general size and thickness of the plastic sheets he need to John.

“Okay. Emmet, come with me. Jose, back up into the turret. Don’t let them sneak up on us.” John and Emmet ran to the employee entrance on the side of the factory.

The two men pushed through the door. John took it as a good sign that the parking lot was completely empty. He pulled out his flashlight and thumbed the switch on, lighting up what seemed to be an employee break room. John led the way, with Emmet a little ways behind. Despite the fact that he had just met him, John felt that he could trust the older man.

They walked past the break room out onto an assembly room floor. John saw light coming from a loading dock area and headed in that direction. As they crossed the big open work room, they were extra cautious. The big machines were mostly hidden in shadow. What little light there was came from several small skylights high above that had long since been covered in a thick film of dust. The entire factory was completely silent, so quiet that every breath the two men took echoed eerily off the walls.

Finally they reached the dock. John played the flashlight around the area until he found what he was looking for. Six big pallets of bundled plastic sheets sat next to the loading dock door. He pointed them out to Emmet. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Emmet didn’t even question John. He simply nodded and pointed to a hand truck, a metal cart with two forks that slid under the pallet and jacked it up for transport. He maneuvered the first pallet to the loading dock and slid the big metal door up. Despite the lateness of the afternoon, bright sunlight poured in, illuminating the interior of the building. Dust motes floated about, but nothing more moved within.

“Wait here, I’ll get the truck.” John jumped down off the loading dock and ran to the pickup. He jumped in and backed the truck right up to the dock. A three foot drop from the dock to the truck bed didn’t stop Emmet as he tipped the pallet off the edge of the building. It slid until it fell over and dropped into the bed with a loud crash. The truck bounced dangerously, but quickly stabilized, though it rode noticeable lower on the tires.

“One’s enough. Let’s get out of here. Are you coming with us to the compound?” John asked as Emmet jumped down and got in the passenger side.

“I might as well. I don’t have anywhere else to go. Damn zombies found my hidey hole. Only reason I got bushwhacked by those sons-a-bitches in the first place. I was on the run.”

“Well, good. Glad to have you.” John drove over to the Humvee and pulled up next to the driver’s side. Sara tried to roll the window down but soon realized it didn’t come down and opened the door.

“We’re going to go down into Guilford and loop around through the back roads to the compound. We’ll come in through the southern barricade. We’d never make it back through town.”

“Good. Let’s get going.” Sara said quickly. John moved as if to kiss her but she had already gotten back in the vehicle. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

* * *

The two vehicles followed the back roads, which in some places turned to dirt, through the little town of Guilford, and reached the south entrance to the compound in under half an hour. Night had fallen by the time they arrived at the barricade. They were met by Richie Kensington, the man who had gone with Jack and the rest of them on the trip to the National Guard bases. He waved as he recognized John and disappeared behind the barricade.

Moments later, it rolled aside, and John and Sara drove through. They parked just outside the gate to the Mason compound and were met by Patrick and several others. Deirdre was there as well, wringing her hands anxiously exactly like John had seen Sara do. He smiled at their resemblance. Deirdre broke into a huge smile of relief when Jose jumped down out of the turret. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his shirt and now stood there, P90 in hand, still wearing the white headband. He hugged his mother as she ran up, tears streaming down her smiling face. Sara picked up her backpack and gun and took off at a fast walk toward the cabin without saying a word. John moved to follow her but Patrick stopped him.

“More refugees?” he asked.

John turned to Patrick. “Yeah, we rescued them from some weird Zed worshiping cult in town.”

“Seriously? As if everything else weren’t bad enough already. Lord almighty, who needs Zeds when you have people like that?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” John started to walk off after his wife.

“Oh, I sent the trucks back up to the base. Jack’s in charge. He already radioed back that they were okay and bedded down for the night. They should be back tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s great, Uncle Patrick. Listen, can we do this later? I need to go make sure Sara’s alright. It was pretty rough out there. And from now on, downtown is off limits.”