Dead Calm (17 page)

As hundreds of the dead crowded the streets of Owens
Grove, many stumbled up the steps of the insurance building to claw
and pound at its doors. The humans who had taken refuge inside ran
for the upper floors, but Jo-Jo stayed where she was, transfixed by
the scene outside the window. Jessie and Jimmy, sure that the
building was secure, also remained on the first floor. They moved
to either side of their sister and each put a reassuring hand on
her shoulder.

“It can't last long,” Jimmy said.

Picking up on his brother's tone, Jessie added,
“Someone's bound to come and rescue us. Daddy knows we're here, so
he’ll come as soon as he can.”

So they waited.

***

After three days of forced captivity with little
water and no food, the McPherson brothers dug a hole through the
common wall adjoining their building with the hardware store on
their right. Using sharpened pieces of broken off table legs it
took them two days. Once through, they armed themselves with a
variety of tools that made it easy to breach the common wall on the
left of their building, which adjoined a beauty salon. Once inside
QuickKuts, the urban miners were careful not to be spotted through
its glass, storefront window by the dead who roamed freely in front
of it. They then holed the next wall to reach their final
destination.

Greene's Grocery Store.

Now with provisions to last into the foreseeable
future, the people in the insurance building settled in to await
rescue. Offices were separated into sleeping quarters, and a
lookout was posted on the roof to watch for any low flying aircraft
they might signal.

When no one appeared over the following months except
for more of the dead, three of the survivors lost hope and
committed suicide. One, an older lady who had seen her husband
among the dead wandering in front of the building, spoke for two
days about her darling Jacob calling out to her to join him. The
others tried to convince her that it was her imagination, but she
wouldn't believe them and slit her wrists. After natural selection
took its course, those remaining formed a community that grew close
and tried to help each other through the crisis. Faith that they
would eventually be saved kept them going.

Their spirits remained high until the large window at
the front of the beauty salon broke when two of the dead got
tangled up in each other's feet and fell through it. Other zombies,
attracted by the strong scent of fresh flesh coming through the
opening, followed their noses to the hole leading through the wall
into the insurance building. It was shortly before midnight when
the first of the dead fell on the survivors staying in an office on
the first floor. In the confusion and carnage that followed, eight
people fell to the gnashing teeth of the dead.

Awakened by screams of terror to find their refuge
invaded, everyone fled to the upper floors of the building.
Creating a barricade out of office furniture in the stairwell, they
managed to halt the advance of the dead just below the second
floor. Safe for the moment, they turned their attention to the
wounded.

Two people with bites were quarantined in an office.
Normal injuries were treated with the few medical supplies on
hand.

Once settled into their now smaller quarters, they
realized the cooking area they had been using was on the first
floor at the back of the building. A quick inventory was taken and
it was found that the only food on hand was two ten-pound sacks of
grits.

But this was just the beginning of their
problems.

The furniture they had stacked on the stairs to stop
the zombies was being cleared, albeit slowly and clumsily, by the
dead who frantically clawed at it in their attempt to reach the
living. The survivors piled more desks and chairs onto the
makeshift barricade, but with no way to secure them besides a
couple rolls of scotch tape salvaged from an office, these were
soon pulled away. The supply of office furniture on the second
floor dwindled as the night went on and by dawn the second floor
had to be abandoned. This pattern of retreat continued until the
barrier to the third floor was pulled apart by the relentless dead
and the last of the living humans in the building were forced to
flee to the roof.

Looking at the heavy wooden access door that was the
only obstacle remaining between them and death, Jimmy glanced at
his stark surroundings and decided he would probably die of
exposure, thirst or starvation long before the dead broke
through.

That had been yesterday and nothing had changed,
including the incessant pounding of the dead at the door leading
from the third floor to the roof. Jimmy let his mind wander to take
it off his obsessive thirst and daydreamed about saving everyone.
Fantasizing about finding a rifle and shooting down the dead, his
vision of killing the zombies surrounding them was so strong that
he could actually hear the shots.

Feeling a kick to the bottom of his boot, Jimmy came
out of his reverie to find Jo-Jo standing over him. Before she
could speak, he became aware that it hadn't been a dream. He could
hear gunfire. Lots of gunfire. And a strange whooshing sound he
couldn't place.

With a huge grin on her face, his sister shouted in
glee, “The Army's here. They're right on the edge of town and
they're coming our way. They got guns and flamethrowers and
everything. They're massacring them damned dead things.”

Flamethrowers, Jimmy thought. That's what the
whooshing noise is. I gotta get me one of them, he decided.

With a shout of triumph, he jumped up to join the
throng of people standing at the parapet wall, cheering and
shouting as the Army decimated the dead.

Perched on trucks, MRAPs and Humvees, and using
automatic rifles, machine guns and flamethrowers, the first
military unit swept through town leaving nothing but the inert
bodies of the dead in their wake. The soldiers came back and
started a systematic search for survivors in the town while
eradicating the few zombies they missed on their first pass. Seeing
the people on top of the insurance building, a unit was detached.
They drove up to the front of the structure in armored cars.
Dismounting, the soldiers broke down the front door and started
clearing the building of the hundreds of dead which clogged its
halls and offices.

Jimmy, Jessie and Jo-Jo ran to the access door to the
third floor and waited. The noise of muted gunfire coming from
inside the building grew louder. In minutes, the McPhersons had to
back away from the door when stray bullets started coming through
it.

The gunfire died down and was replaced by a voice
that yelled, “Identify yourselves or we will open fire. This is
your only warning.”

Cries of relief greeted this announcement. The door
was opened and a dozen heavily armed men wearing camouflaged
utilities came onto the roof. After being hailed as saviors, the
soldiers made sure that none of the people were infected before
leading them down to the street. Here they huddled in a group,
staring at the hundreds of dead bodies that littered the street. A
Humvee, followed by a truck, roared up and disgorged more
civilians, quickly recognized as fellow townsfolk. Reunions were
common and more were in the making as people shouted out that they
had seen each other's family and friends.

More trucks arrived, and soon there were over three
hundred citizens of Owens Grove crowding Main Street. Tears of joy
were shed at reunions of family's that had been split apart, and
tears of sadness were shed at the news that loved ones had been
killed. Medics helped the wounded while soldiers moved through the
crowd passing out bottled water, crackers and spam to the crowd.
Despite the circumstances, a feeling of being at a festival soon
prevailed.

They had made it. They were alive.

Darkness was falling when a Humvee with two speakers
mounted on the roof approached and stopped a short distance from
the edge of the crowd. Everyone fell silent as feedback whined when
a PA system was turned on. The screeching stopped abruptly and a
voice with a Cajun accent echoed across the downtown area saying,
“My name is Major William H. Shurmann the Third. I'm the commander
of the unit that rescued you. I would like to congratulate you for
making it through, and I would also like to offer my condolences to
those of you who lost family members in this tragedy.”

Caught up in the spirit of having narrowly avoided
death, the remaining citizens of Owens Grove roared their thanks to
the soldiers who saved them and at the words of consolation. When
the noise died down, Shurmann spoke again.

“I am seeking both male and female volunteers to join
with us in our efforts to eradicate the plague of dead threatening
our existence. For those of you who want to enlist for the duration
of this crisis, please go to the post office three blocks down and
give your name and vital statistics to the clerks on duty there.
“

Nothing more needed to be said. Ready and eager to do
their part, over fifty men and woman broke from the crowd and
headed down the street, their excited chatter filled with shouted
vows of, “Kill them dead things,” and, “Take our country back.”

Jo-Jo and Jessie joined this group, but when Jimmy
tried to accompany them, Jo-Jo told him to wait. While they were
worried about the rest of the family, the farmhouse was outside
town and the soldiers hadn't advanced that far yet, Jo-Jo decided
that she and Jessie would sign up now and Jimmy would wait to see
if they opened up the road heading to their house. If they hadn't
cleared the way by the time she got back, then she and Jessie would
wait while Jimmy signed up. Although they wanted to be reunited
with their family, they felt sure the resourceful McPherson clan
would be all right. The farmhouse drew water from a well and had a
pantry kept stocked with food.

When the noise of those going to enlist died down,
Shurmann spoke again, “For those of you who remain I would like you
to split up into two groups. The soldiers moving among you will
assist you in an orderly separation. On the right side of the
street I want all men and women between the ages of sixteen and
fifty. Everyone else needs to move to the left.”

It was then that Jimmy noticed that the soldiers who
had been facing outward to guard the crowd against any stray
zombies had attached bayonets to their rifles and were brusquely
ordering people to the left or right of Main Street. People were
confused at this new development, but since the soldiers had saved
them they went along without too much fuss. Once divided, a line of
trucks pulled down Main Street and stopped between the two groups,
further separating them. Now people started to feel uneasy and
shouted questions at the soldiers guarding them, as well as to the
unseen Major who had yet to step down from his Humvee.

“Quiet,” a sharp, angry command boomed over the
loudspeakers. The crowd fell silent as he continued, “You all had
your chance to volunteer, but some of you didn't take it. Your
country needs you in this time of crisis and you turned your backs
on it. I am here to inform you that under orders from the Joint
Chiefs of the United States of America, all men and women between
the ages of sixteen and fifty are hereby conscripted into military
service. While those people who volunteered will be given two days
to get their affairs in order, those of you on my right who refused
will be taken directly from here to Fort Hood, Texas. There you
will undergo basic training for a period of four weeks. After that,
you will then be sent immediately to units working in the cities to
rid us of the hordes of dead. Those who resist will be shot. Those
who desert will be hanged upon their recapture. Any disobedience to
any lawful order given by me or my men will be dealt with swiftly
and harshly.”

Shouted curses filled the air including Jimmy's, who
protested that he was going to sign up. Everyone was silenced when
a soldier fired a burst from his assault rifle into the air.

In the eerie quiet that followed, Shurmann said, “The
next person to act out in disobedience will be shot where they
stand. Everyone on the right needs to board the trucks and keep
quiet.”

In shock, no one moved until Shurmann's voice roared
out, “Now!”

Slowly at first, and then quicker when prodded by the
bayonet-wielding soldiers, the conscripts boarded the transports.
Jimmy was the final person on the last truck in line and ended up
sitting next to a guard who had positioned himself at the back. As
the vehicle started to move, he realized that the road they were
taking to Baton Rouge would lead them directly past the family's
farmhouse. Sizing up the guard seated next to him, he knew he could
easily knock the man out and jump from the truck when they went by
his house. He needed to talk to his daddy about what was happening.
He wanted to let everyone know that he’d been shanghaied. If he
didn't do this, no one would find out for weeks what happened and
might think him dead.

Right after I let the family know I’m safe, I’ll go
volunteer, Jimmy told himself. Thinking about the Major's
punishment for deserting, he assured himself that this was America.
He wasn't worried about being shot. Americans didn't do things like
that to their own people.

Seeing the tattered remains of the Red Cross tent in
the distance, he knew he was close. Readying himself to overpower
the guard, he concentrated on the spot behind the man's ear where
he would hit him. He was just drawing back when he heard one of the
other men in the truck ask, “Ain't that your place, Jimmy?”

Turning to look, Jimmy felt his heart drop down to
his stomach as despair washed through him. All hope fled at the
sight of the wreckage that had once been his family's home. The
only thing that wasn't burned down and scattered was an old
outhouse. Bricks and wood were strewn in a huge arc across the
front yard and Jimmy could see bodies lying on the front lawn. He
hoped these were dead things and not his family, but looking closer
at the scene of complete destruction, deep down inside he knew the
bodies were his kin.