Z14 (Zombie Rules) (37 page)

             
“That’s a lot of people you’ve killed Zach.” The First Sergeant said quietly. I gave him a slight nod. He didn’t know the half of it.

             
“Which reminds me, one of these civilians behind me said you murdered his wife. I am duty bound to take you into custody pending an inquiry.” Captain Steen said somberly.

             
“If you want a response, all I have to say is they attempted to ambush me one day on a lonely country road. They failed.”

             
“So, you murdered his wife.” He said.

             
“I believe the legal system, when it was still around, made a clear distinction between murder and justifiable homicide. I’ve never murdered anyone.” I responded. I hoped I was right, and not merely rationalizing. I continued.

             
“However, I understand your obligation to duty. May I edify you for the record, at this point all you have is an unsubstantiated allegation. You do not have any physical evidence, including a
corpus delicti
. Simply put, you have not met the burden of probable cause for taking me into custody. I submit to you, anyone who is serious about reconstructing society must adhere to the bastion of justice.” I studied him a moment before continuing.

             
“Of course, some people believe justice is nothing more than a commodity which is a more or less adulterated condition the State sells to the citizen as a reward for his allegiance, taxes, and personal service.”

             
Captain Steen looked at me long and hard. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking, but I believed he was digesting what I had just said.

             
“Noted for the record.” He finally said. “But we will have to conduct an investigation. Oh, and I believe it is the first time anyone has ever quoted Ambrose Bierce to me. Touché.” I arched an eyebrow. I didn’t think anyone read Bierce anymore.

             
“Nobody recognizes my quotes from Bierce. I am dutifully impressed.” I waved toward my friends. “Sometimes, I’ll say something which I believe is steeped in witticism and all I get are some very odd looks.”

             
“Me as well.” Captain Steen quipped. I chuckled before I could help myself.

             
“As for this allegation of murder, I assure you I will give you some amount of cooperation, about seventy-five percent worth. I doubt it’ll go any further than that.” I said cheerfully. Rowdy and Howard burst out in laughter. Even the soldiers joined in. Captain Steen furrowed his brow momentarily.

             
“I’d like to ask a few questions, if I may.” I said. Captain Steen made a gesture with a hand.

             
“Have you had any contact with any government entity, NORAD, anybody?” Captain Steen shook his head slowly.

             
“Not with any of those entities, but we have been in contact with some personnel. It would seem that several of the naval ships and submarines weathered the plague, but the Continuity of Government plan apparently did not materialize. We have also been in contact with personnel at other military installations, both in this country and in others. I cannot be more specific due to operational security. I hope you understand.”

             
“Do you have an estimate of a survival rate?” I asked.

             
“The numbers are incomplete, but the raw data suggests twenty percent.” Captain Steen replied. I nodded in understanding. Howard looked at me.

             
“What does that mean, Zach?” He asked. Numbers were not his strong suit.

             
“When the outbreak occurred, the population of the United States was roughly three hundred sixteen million. With a twenty percent survival rate, roughly sixty-three to sixty-four million people survived the initial pandemic. If one were to speculate about the ensuing aftermath, approximately fifty percent of those survivors will die due to starvation, violence, pestilence, and other health issues in the ensuing year. Also, with societal breakdown and the lack of proper neonatal health care, the growth rate will plummet to near zero. In all probability, there are about thirty-two million Americans left living, for now. The number will no doubt drop severely before it starts growing again.”

             
Captain Steen nodded. “So, you can see the need for what we are doing. Mister Gunderson, I’m getting the impression you are a knowledgeable person. You would be a welcome asset to our community.”

             
I was instantly irked by being called an asset. It reminded me of the other Captain. He said the same thing of me not so long ago. I shook my head slowly.

             
“No.” I said quietly.

             
“We have a lot to offer.” Captain Steen said.

             
“Before I respond, I don’t care for your title and calling you Mister Steen doesn’t feel right. Would you mind if I called you by your first name?” I said to him.

             
“It’s Jack. Jack Steen.” Captain Steen said.

             
“Alright Jack. The First Sergeant makes a good sales pitch, shelter, food, water. However, I never once heard him specifically say your group has doctors, dentists, pharmacists, or veterinarians. Let me ask you, I believe the hospital at Fort Campbell is called Blanchfield?” He nodded. “Is it operational and staffed?”

             
“Not at the present time. We have a clinic being run by one physician’s assistant and three nurses. You must understand Zach. This is a work in progress. It is a slow, painstaking process. The First Sergeant and I regularly put in sixteen hours a day, sometimes, more.” I looked over at the First Sergeant. He nodded in agreement at Captain Steen’s statement.

             
Captain Steen peered at me closer. “Your group can help in this endeavor. What was your major?” I stared at him blankly. “In college, what was your major?

             
“Jack, I was a sophomore in High School when the outbreak happened.” The three of them looked surprised. Howard chuckled.

             
“He’s the smartest, most resourceful seventeen-year-old you’ll ever meet.” Howard said and beamed at me. I stood there as the three soldiers looked at me with renewed interest.

             
I finally broke the silence. “Jack, would your group excuse us for a minute? I’d like to talk to my friends.” I said.

             
“Certainly.” He replied. The cadre of soldiers waited by my truck and the three of us walked down the road. I stopped when I believed we were out of earshot and told them what I wanted to do. They readily agreed. We walked back to them.

             
“Jack, First Sergeant, you are both cordially invited to our home for lunch. If you can requisition a vehicle around here, you can follow us and be back in time for lights out.”

             
“Can I go sir?” Corporal Jackson immediately asked. Captain Steen glowered at him. “Sir, you’ll need security.” He added belatedly.

             
“Are you sure you just don’t want to hang out with your new friend?” The First Sergeant asked. Corporal Alexander grinned bashfully.

             
Rowdy patted his new buddy on the shoulder. “Yeah, bring him along Captain. Howard’s wife is one hell of a cook and I might even sing a song or two.”

             
We radioed ahead, let the women know we were coming, and gave them an ETA.

             
“Howard, take a detour over to the truck stop. I’d like to see if anyone is there or if the Captain ever made any improvements to it.” He nodded and we were there ten minutes later. It remained unoccupied and unchanged. I explained to the soldiers what we had planned to do. Captain Steen looked around with his brow furrowed, much like it was earlier.

             
“Jack, I’ve a gut feeling there is something you’re not telling us.” I said.

             
He looked at First Sergeant Santiago before responding. “We’ve met him before. He solicited us for resources in order to create an outpost, or trading post. I assume this was going to be the location for it.”

             
“I don’t think you were aware of it, but he was planning on setting you guys up and killing you.” I said. He looked at me questioningly. “His niece told me. She’s living with us presently.”

             
“Ah yes, I remember her, a skinny little girl with a butch haircut. Do I understand correctly, you and the Captain were friends at one time?” Captain Steen asked.

             
“Yes, we were, but an incident involving his men ruined it all.” I told them of the incident with Barry and Eli, and the death of Macie. “Even though they were the instigators, the Captain blamed me. Oh, and he was abusing his niece, so she came to live with us. He blamed me for that as well. He was bent on vengeance for this misperceived injustice.”

             
Captain Steen nodded in seeming understanding. “Where is this Captain now?” He asked.

             
“Dead.” I responded.

             
“Did you kill him?” I didn’t answer. “I’d like to hear the story.” He said.

             
“Maybe I’ll tell you when I get to trusting you better. In the meantime, let’s go eat.” I said. Our conversation was interrupted by Rowdy giving a short whistle.

             
“I see somebody.” He said, and pointed down the road. I got the Remington sniper rifle out of the jeep and looked at them with the scope.

             
“Zombies.” I said. I took aim and started to shoot them, but stopped and handed the rifle to Rowdy.

             
“You said you can shoot, Hoss. Well, let’s see what you’ve got.” I said with a smile. Rowdy grinned back, shouldered the rifle, and squeezed off a shot. He worked the action as the first zombie fell and shot the other one quickly. I took my fingers out of my ears and slapped Rowdy on the back.

             
“Good shooting, for an Alabama boy.” I said. He grinned again and scratched his beard. “Alright everyone, this area has not been completely cleared. The noise is going to attract more of them. Let’s get out of here.”

              Lashonda had a large meal prepared, including steaks, and the house was fixed up to receive guests. The Parsons had a nice, family sized walnut table in the dining room. Even so, it was a tight fit seating all eleven of us. Lil’ H and Derry peppered the soldiers with questions about military life while we ate. They in turn profusely expressed their admiration of the cooking to Lashonda throughout the meal. Afterward, we all sat in the den. Much to their credit, none of them mentioned Andie’s bruised and swollen face. She looked like she’d been beaten with an ugly stick, but I probably didn’t look much better.

             
After dinner, Rowdy retrieved a bottle of twenty-one-year-old Balvenie Scotch and poured everyone a glass. Well, with the exception of Derry, Little Howard, and of course, Julie. I had never drunk Scotch before, but I found it very smooth and tasty.

             
“This is a very nice home.” Captain Steen commented.

             
“Thank you.” Howard said. “Zach found it for us. It was already furnished.”

             
“It had a layer of dust an inch thick and cobwebs everywhere, but other than that, it was ready to move into.” Lashonda said.

             
“The homeowners were my employers at one time. They were vacationing in Florida when the outbreak occurred.” I said.

             
“Where do you live?” He asked.

             
“We’re currently living here until we get a new house readied. The Captain’s boys burned down our friend’s house and were about to do the same to our house before we caught them. They doused everything with gas, so it’s uninhabitable now. We should have the new house ready within a day or so.” I waved my hand around. “I had done some prep work on this house earlier, but I’d like to get it hardened against intruders.”

             
“He has a list.” Julie said. The group laughed at the inside joke while the soldiers looked at us questioningly. Howard explained my propensity for creating lists. First Sergeant Santiago burst out in laughter.

             
“It sounds like someone else I know, although I won’t mention any names.” He said while jerking his head at Captain Steen.

             
“It’s a good way to organize your thoughts.” Jack said defensively. I understood, but it didn’t stop everyone from laughing some more.

             
“Why aren’t you drinking, Julie?” Corporal Alexander asked.

             
“Julie is expecting her first child.” Lashonda said.

             
“How wonderful, congratulations.” Jack said with a smile. “Julie, we have a health care facility with a physician’s assistant and two nurses on staff. We can provide you with prenatal care.”

             
“What is a physician’s assistant?” Julie asked. “Is it a doctor?”

             
“Um, no. It is the title of a person who has had some medical training, but has not yet completed medical school.” First Sergeant Santiago said. “The rank is a warrant officer. Mister Jones is well qualified.”

             
“But they have been trained to rely on pharmaceuticals, which are no longer viable. Do they have any knowledge of homeopathic care?” Julie asked. I looked at her in surprise. Captain Steen tried to phrase an answer, but ceded a shrug of the shoulders instead. I changed the subject.

             
“Your fuel is over a year old.” I asked. “How are you still able to fly a plane?”

             
“We have a fuel technician who monitors our reserves. He tests the fuel frequently. Nevertheless, the amount we have left at our disposal can be measured in a finite amount.” Jack said. “We’ve decided to use it before it goes bad and search out survivors.”

             
I continued with questions. “Why did you use the Smyrna airport, why not the Nashville airport?”

             
Captain Steen shook his head. “BNA is completely blocked with crashed and abandoned planes. Our pilots did a fly by and said it was too unsafe. There are even cars parked on the runways.”

             
We continued to enjoy the Scotch and talked at length, sharing our individual stories of survival. Captain Steen seemed to have found them particularly fascinating. He took a small notepad out of his shirt pocket and took fastidious notes while everyone talked. I watched and listened. Although I had heard them before, I did not tire of hearing my friends relate how they had survived. When it came my turn, I told them of Rick.

             
“He was Army?” First Sergeant Santiago asked.

             
“Yes he was. He was an Airborne Ranger and served time in Vietnam.” I said, and was lost in memories for a moment. “He was a hell of a man.” I said quietly. “Everything I’ve become, everything I’ve achieved, I owe to him.” Rowdy raised his glass and we all saluted the memory of Rick. First Sergeant Santiago broke the awkward silence that ensued.

             
“When it became apparent what this plague was doing, the post commander ordered the base locked down and everyone put on alert. Even so, the base was infested with people who were already sick.” He said, and paused a moment.

“I lost a wife and four children.” He wiped
his face and quickly continued. “Everyone has lost loved ones. The Captain had a fiancé. Corporal Alexander’s entire unit became infected. We managed to band together and eradicate the infected people, which was no small feat. We were at battle stations for days on end, killing those things.” He wiped his brow. “A lot of them were wearing uniforms, so we knew we were killing things who used to be fellow soldiers. We lost a lot of troops.” He shook his head ruefully. “It was tough.” He looked at his glass of Scotch, raised it silently, and we joined him in a drink.

             
All of us talked at length, each telling their life story, until the sun started to set. The First Sergeant glanced at his wristwatch and nodded at Captain Steen. They stood.

             
“Ms. Allen, thank you for the wonderful meal. It was delicious.” Captain Steen said. First Sergeant Santiago and Corporal Alexander quickly voiced their agreement. They said their goodbyes. Howard, Rowdy, and I walked them to their vehicle.

             
“Zach, Howard, I’m impressed. Each story I heard, whether it was Julie, Rowdy, Andie, and even you Howard, each story centers around Zach. Your friends think very highly of you.”

             
“If it weren’t for Zach, we’d have probably all starved or been killed, or been eaten by those damned things.” Howard said.

             
I shrugged. The meal was not settling well in my stomach and my head was buzzing from the Scotch. I was through talking and wanted to go to bed.

             
“It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen.” I said as we shook hands. “Jack, if you ever consider establishing an outpost in this area, let me know. I believe we can help you out.” I looked up at the sky. There was a dark line of clouds in the western sky. “Looks like bad weather moving in.” I thought a moment, inhaled, and motioned to Captain Steen. When we were sufficiently far enough away from the group, I whispered in his ear.

             
He looked at me in surprise, and then nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

             
First Sergeant Santiago handed Howard a sheet of legal paper. “We’re lifting off at 1700 hours tomorrow. If any of you want to join us, here is a list of the items you can bring. If you drive in tonight, flash your lights several times so we’ll know you’re friendly. If we don’t see you tomorrow, we’ll be back in two weeks. Will guys meet us at the airport?” Howard and I looked at each other and agreed. We all shook hands again, Corporal Alexander gave Rowdy a hug, and they left.

             
The last thing I remember was lying down on the sleeping bag in the den. Everyone else was sitting around talking about our visitors. Having friendly visitors was a rarity these days, so naturally it was a big event for us. Everyone was asking questions of each other and voicing their opinions. Somewhere in all of that, I fell asleep.

             
When I awoke, my watch said a few minutes before four. I stretched the kinks out. Curly, who had nestled himself in between Julie and me, woke up as well and mimicked my actions. We thought he had been killed, but he most likely ran away in fright. He was lying on the porch, waiting patiently for us yesterday morning. I dressed quietly, holstered my Kimber, kissed Julie on the forehead, and slipped outside without a peep from anyone. Curly followed me out, did his business, and then looked at me as if to say, why are we up so early bud? I gave him a friendly scratch on the head and then started walking. When he realized I was walking to our old home, he whimpered slightly, but in spite of his fear, he followed me faithfully.

             
I fed the chickens and rabbits with the aid of a flashlight, and then began loading the trailer. I was tired of sleeping on the floor of someone else’s home, and was determined to be in our new home by this evening. I emerged from the darkness of the cellar carrying a Rubbermaid tote bin of mason jars, when Curly started growling. I set the plastic tote bin down quietly. I had leaned the M4 beside the door, and it was too far away. I drew my Kimber as a figure appeared in the doorway.

             
“Whoa, hey now, no need for that.” It was Rowdy. I holstered my weapon.

             
“You’re usually sleeping off a drunk at this time of the morning.” I said gruffly, as I picked up the bin.

             
“Yeah, very true.” He said. “When you drifted off to sleep, I knew you’d be up early and would be working on something or another. Besides, Julie threatened me with grave bodily harm if I didn’t look out for you while you’re still injured.” I started to interrupt, but Rowdy held his hand up. “Save it, we all know you’re hurting, even if you don’t complain.”

“Has Andie complained of any internal injuries?” I asked.

Rowdy shook his head. “She said he gave her a few slaps, but that was it. Her nose is still tender as hell though.” He looked at the tote bin. “So, what are we doing here?”