The Reaper: No Mercy (6 page)

Then the apocalypse arrived, and with it a new beginning. A Presidential declaration of martial law had been announced, and all Guard units were ordered to draw ammo at their Ammunition Supply Point and await orders. Rodriguez soon found himself leading a platoon into Moberly to quell not only the rising undead but also to perform crowd control in an attempt to restore order. They had their issue M4s and were given four M-ATVs, four LMTVs, and two
M1114 HMMWVs, or Humvees as they were commonly called. The
LMTVs, or light utility trucks, had been used to carry the munitions and supplies they had drawn, along with assorted materials designed for roadblocks and containment.

Arriving in Moberly, they'd done the best they could but their attempt at controlling the city had ultimately proved unsuccessful. In the end, the situation had quickly turned hopeless. There were simply too many of the diseased savages to combat with their limited numbers, and Dennis had been forced to pull as many survivors together as he could with the remnants of his platoon.

They had performed a lightning-quick load-up with as many civilians as possible jammed into the armored Humvees, M-ATVs, and LMTVs, along with as many civilian vehicles necessary to hold everyone. Hell, he even remembered a score of people riding atop their lone fuel truck, totally against regulations, but you did what you had to do when the shit hit the fan. In the end, it had proved a long, vicious fight leaving the city limits, the result being fewer troops and civilians. Thank God, their munitions and supplies including MREs had still been loaded in the vehicles, but even so they didn't hesitate to grab more supplies along the way.

In Paris, they had taken over eight large industrial complex buildings in total, all connected, with concrete and steel walls, and now everyone was carrying a gun. The industrial complex was almost a half mile from the city proper, and Rodriguez prayed it was far enough from Ringo's gang activities to be left alone long enough to find a more secure location. His confidence was supported by the fact that the buildings had already been ransacked before he and his men took possession of them.

Shortly after Rodriguez and his group arrived, Ringo and his gang had shown up under a flag of truce. After an hour of arguing, recrimination, and threats, an agreement had been reached. Ringo and his men would leave the soldiers and their group alone, if the soldiers left Ringo and his gang alone, while not interfering in their activities.

Times were tough, and you didn't know from one moment to the next when your ticket would be punched. Yeah, the gang were a bunch of vicious fuckers that were truly a pain in the ass, but Rodriguez knew if he took the fight to them what remained of his fighting force would not be effective enough to protect the multitude of civilians they had saved. A true Catch-22. Rodriguez frowned, deep in thought as he ascended the stairs leading to his usual guard position.

*****

Andy smiled as Darcie handed the Reaper a cup of hot coffee. It was instant, but they didn't want to start up their generator in order to brew a pot, because of the
others
. Instead water had been heated over a propane cookstove then instant grounds added. After all, you gave what you had to the man who had just saved your life. They had just finished telling their stories to each other, and that had provided enough time for the water to heat up. Andy was feeling more confident around the Reaper as he watched the interaction between him and the children. Jesus Christ, the man had coloring books in his backpack. The Reaper had withdrawn four of them along with two boxes of crayons which he quickly distributed to the excited kids. Andy kicked himself for not thinking of that himself, as the children were beyond bored and this would help. He had just spent the last hour filling the Reaper in on their journey from St. Louis and his life in general, how he'd originally hooked up with Darcie and her children—his now—and their overall situation.

The Reaper in return had told him what he knew about the virus, Newaygo, the shadow government and survivor groups in general. It was heartbreaking news, yet hopeful at the same time. As he finished, he informed them he was deliberately heading in a southwest direction, not only to tie survivor groups together for mutual support, but also, ultimately, to spy out the area in Colorado where the shadow government’s main forces were hiding.

"So that's what's been happening in the outside world," said Andy. The Reaper grunted as he thanked Darcie for the mug and took a slow sip of its strong, black contents. Another shot rang out from somewhere outside, and all the adults jumped save for Andy and the Reaper. While he and the Reaper had carefully crept back to the Methodist church they were hiding in, the marauders had been driving up and down the streets, firing indiscriminately into the buildings around them. A few shots had even peppered the church, but those within continued to give no outward sign the dwelling was occupied.

Andy continued. "Well I haven't told you everything yet, so here goes! Like I said, we learned to find a defensible hideout first whenever coming near groups of buildings, buildings where these zombies might be hiding, which is why we picked the church straight off. We had no sooner settled in and started to hunt for supplies when these
others
came driving down the road Bruce and I were on."Andy quickly recounted the scene they had witnessed three days prior, and finished with, "That was more men than Bruce and I could handle by ourselves. I didn't want my family to end up like those poor folks. So for the last few days we've been gathering supplies slowly while spying on them."

"I understand, Andy. I've also seen this before. Those taken are likely goods for barter."

"Barter?"

"Yes, the story is as old as time." The Reaper sighed and looked pensive before continuing. "They keep the young women to use as sex slaves for their own pleasure, and to sell to surrounding groups for field hands, or once more as sex slaves. The same goes for the older boys and girls and young men. Some of those young men will end up joining the marauders. The older men, women, and young children are simply a drain on resources and are disposed of." Jason spoke slowly and methodically, his voice low and full of sadness mixed with anger.

"That's sick!" sputtered Andy, and Jason heard Darcie gasp, then saw her covering her mouth with her hand as he glanced in her direction.

"That is also a story told throughout recorded history, Andy and Darcie. Jay, the governor of Michigan, is slowly moving outward and dealing harshly with those who would traffic in humans. It's a problem that will ultimately take decades to solve." The Reaper had spoken more this day than he had in a long time, but the story and historical references needed to be told.

"So, you're on your way through then, Reaper?" Bruce remarked. Bruce and Jake were the other two adult males in Andy's small group; Bruce was a tall, kind-looking man, at one time soft but now all skin, bones, and muscle, whereas Jake was just skin and bones and very short.

"No, I think the Lord has a mission for me here." The last was growled, and hackles rose on the back of Andy's neck as he listened to this other man speak.

"Ahh, yes sir." Andy waved a hand at the children as he continued. "Dessa and Jacob are ours, but the others we saved. We found them along the way where their parents had hidden them. We couldn't leave them behind. They have no one."

"Agreed, and I and the Lord thank you for that, Andy. My place is here whether you help or not."

"Well, we'd like to help, but like I said, they outnumber us. There must be at least fifty of them, if not more. We can't handle those numbers. I'll die quick and I can't leave Darcie and the children all alone."

"Tell me, do you have any idea where they’re keeping the captives?"

"I think they’re being held in what I think are catacombs at the back edge of the church property. I saw them taking a large quantity of food out there once."

"Makes sense, easy to secure and defend. Now, what about other survivors in the city, you mentioned catching glimpses of them from time to time."

"Well, in the three days we've been here I think we've identified four other groups besides ours, but they're hiding, just like we are, except for one bunch I'll show you. I'm pretty sure the other groups know what will happen to them if they come out."

"Granted, but I'd like to meet them."

"I can show you where one is and where I think the others are, but with what happened to that one group we saw, I'm inclined to think they'll shoot first and ask questions later."

"The Lord will protect me, Andy. I am doing His will, and I've seen signs that indicate he is taking a direct hand in human affairs once again," said the Reaper calmly, yet he did not explain about a girl named Ashley, or the events that had led him to that belief. That was a story for another time and place.

"Ahh, yeah right, OK. Well, let me get a map of the city," and he was off to return quickly with a folded square of colored paper, which he spread out on the tabletop.

"Okay, we are here," a heavy finger jabbed the surface of the map, then moved down the street to pause at another building near an intersection. "There’s a group here. When we first arrived, we could see smoke coming from the chimneys. It looks like one of those big manor houses with four chimneys. Now you won't see the smoke, but they're still there."

"What about these
others
, these marauders. Why did they not attack them if they were that obvious initially?"

"Oh they did, two days ago, but this city group held them off. You can't miss the place. It's two stories tall with really thick, solid brick walls and narrow windows. One of those old manors you see here and there. They fought all day with firebombs and grenades, I think, but after losing a half-dozen people or more, the
others
just took off. Since you took down a dozen earlier today, I'm sure they'll assume it's this group and attack them again. That is, if this group hasn't already relocated," Andy said.

"Hmmm, well, since they held the marauders off once, they'll probably figure they can continue doing so. It's human nature after all to defend a fairly secure location. And the other groups?"

Quickly Andy pointed to three other spots on the map. "These are roughly the locations we saw smoke the day we arrived, which you won't now, as I said. Everyone is hiding and it does not help that you can only gather supplies during the day. At night, the zombies come out in large numbers, and it's wicked dangerous to be out. Please keep the map. We have more."

The Reaper nodded as he memorized the streets around their location, his own finger moving as he plotted a route down side roads and around commercial structures. Then he stood and, after glancing at his watch, picked his rifle up from where it lay carefully propped against the wall.

"It's not yet noon. I'm going to do a recon and visit these other groups to see if they're still there, and willing to talk," he stated as he started towards the back entrance shown to him earlier.

"Oh my God, Reaper. Don't go out right now. These
others
are out in force, trying to find whoever shot them up. They'll catch you, then kill you." Andy had followed him and was pleading with Jason to wait a few days until everything calmed down, but the Reaper wasn't in the mood to wait, and shouldered his ruck.

"Andy, you're a good man for what you've done, but if these others are as evil as they seem, then the Lord has shown me that I'm needed here, and this is a task that needs doing now, not later. They have captives, and they're killing the innocent." With that, the Reaper opened the back door, and after peering out, strode quickly to the house next to the church. This was a one-story building that appeared to be the rectory where the pastor and his family had once lived. Behind him, he heard the door shut and a bolt slam home. He grinned mirthlessly and decided to disregard subterfuge, striding boldly forward between buildings.

*****

Ringo fumed all the way back to the cemetery after leaving the soldier boys. He had just lost thirteen men, and it was beyond pissing him off. Duane, who was driving, stayed silent, which was a good thing, because crash or not, Ringo needed to shoot someone, bad!

"So who do you think it was?" he finally demanded as they pulled into the cemetery parking lot.

"Boss, I have no clue, maybe that manor place has a soldier or someone really good at shooting. Who else could it be?"

"Maybe you're right. We need to take them out. We need the cattle for trading." Ringo had little respect for anyone, and none for slaves. They were simply pieces of cattle, ready for trading or fucking, or both.

"One of the guys told me he saw them moving vehicles against that wall they have. That will only make it harder to take them."

"What do we have that would clear them out? Maybe one of the buses could ram them?"

Duane pondered for a second, then his eyes lit on the cemetery's snowplow parked near the rear of the lot and he grinned.

"No boss, don't think a bus would do it, but that snowplow might," said Duane, pointing straight ahead at the deserted vehicle.

"A snowplow?" asked Ringo, a perplexed expression on his face.

"Absolutely, boss, it's used to moving big piles of snow. Heavy weight and shit. It should do the job."