“Chad should feel lucky I didn’t put two into him back when we first met. I really wanted to. When I told Cecil about how we got into that firefight at that Walmart a couple months ago, Cecil turned red. He said DJ should have killed Chad then and there.”
Fish was referring to the time we saved the Stallions from a group of other survivors. I didn’t like thinking about that day. Fish sniped two of the attackers, while I all but killed the third. Though Fish executed the guy wearing the motorcycle jacket, it was me who delivered the mortal wound. I had become a killer of man that day.
Chad had started that conflict a couple of weeks before by accidentally discharging his weapon while arguing with the other group of survivors. There had been a firefight, but no one was hurt. It wasn’t until the other group stumbled upon them at the Walmart, and killed DJ’s friend Justin, that the repercussions hit.
“You even said before, it wasn’t all Chad’s fault. He was reckless, sure, but it was an accident,” I argued.
“Yeah, he was reckless and yes, it was an accident. But we don’t need reckless idiots in our group.” Fish had undressed and was preparing to shave his head with a straight razor.
I slumped down on my small bed, which was made of just a twin-sized mattress lying on the wooden floor.
“Just ask Cecil to back off. Please,” I added, emphasizing that it meant something to me.
He sprayed shaving cream in his hand and started rubbing it on his head. “Look, kid, if Chad doesn’t want to do runs, he doesn’t have to. I’m sure Barry can put him in gardening or permanent guard. But as long as he wants to be a Runner, his ass can deal with the flack. Cecil is good people, and I like him leading teams when we go out. I’m not going to trade a good cop for a shitty crook. Ain’t happening.”
I was going to keep arguing, but stopped myself. There was no point. Fish didn’t like that Chad and I were now friends, but he didn’t try to play father to me and tell me who I could hang out with. It didn’t mean he was going to accept Chad into the family, either.
“Christian?” a girl’s voice called from outside. It was Karina.
“Come in.” I said, forgetting Fish was in his briefs.
The door swung open and Boomer leapt inside and almost tackled me to my bed.
“Hey boy!” I exclaimed.
Karina strode in and plopped down next to my bunk. “Daniel says he’s not a veterinarian, but he thinks Boomer is okay. Well, as long as he didn’t get rabies from the other dog.”
Fish stopped in mid-shave and scowled at her. “You mind, squirt?” he spat, disgustedly.
“No. It’s not like I’m looking at you.” Karina responded nonchalantly. She wasn’t a huge fan of Fish. The feeling was mutual from him, I was sure.
“Kid, take the flea bag for a walk,” Fish ordered me. “And take Boomer with you, too.”
I chuckled as Karina gave him a nasty glare.
“Come on Karina,” I said, still smiling. “Boomer, let’s go.”
Karina whispered a few curses under her breath as we left the shack and walked across the middle of the compound. Faces I barely recognized were bustling about, performing odd jobs.
“He’s such an asshole,” Karina said, still grumbling.
“He didn’t mean it,” I lied.
“Yes he did.”
Two children called out to Boomer to come play with them. He looked up at me with anticipation.
“Go on, boy. Have fun,” I said as I waved him toward the kids. He gave a light bark and then galloped over to them.
“He saved my life again today,” I said as I watched him chase the small children around the field.
“He loves you,” Karina said. “You’re part of his pack.”
“I thought I was the alpha,” I grinned as we walked over to the mess area.
“Maybe he knows,” Karina whispered, almost too low for me to hear.
“Knows what?”
“That… that you can’t get sick.” She stared at the ground. Karina knew I hated talking about my immunity.
“That’s silly. And even if he did, why would he care?”
“Because. I know you’re not infected. Boomer senses dead-heads and scabs. He wouldn’t protect you if you were going to turn into one of them. Scientists make vaccines from immune people all the time. Maybe Boomer knows that.” Karina slowed down.
“Boomer’s smart and all, but I think you’re giving him too much credit.” I stopped, knowing where she was going with this.
“You still haven’t said anything to anyone, have you?” she asked.
“No,” I whispered, “I haven’t had a good opportunity.” That was a lie, of course. I had plenty of chances to tell Fish, Campbell, or DJ. But Chuck’s last words still rang in my ears. I could be a danger to everyone if I was carrying the virus, and I didn’t know if the others would feel the same way.
“You could at least tell Rich,” Karina persisted. “He’s pretty reasonable, you know. And besides, you promised me you would tell someone.”
She was right. Rich was reasonable, which is why I didn’t want to tell him. I feared that he would reason that I was a carrier, and even though my bond with Fish was as strong as ever, the old sniper would not hesitate to put me down.
“I will, I promise. Just… just give me a little more time, okay?”
She must have sensed that I wanted to stop the conversation, because she didn’t pursue it anymore.
***
Dead weather still cursed the skies over the next few days, so Campbell ordered all runs into the city halted. It did rain occasionally, though in small amounts, and the sun rarely came out from behind the clouds.
We radioed with Todd every day, but didn’t get any information that was useful. Still, it was nice to hear someone’s voice from across the country.
We were able to make contact with the group Todd had talked about in Maine. John Ivanison led that group. He was a Marine that had helped rescue refugees coming from New York and New Jersey.
Ivanison gave us some good Intel.
The first was what had happened to New York City.
According to Ivanison, there were still people struggling to survive, though he doubted there were many left in the city. Those that he knew were still alive were stuck in buildings where they had barricaded the stairwells. He didn’t have high hopes that they would last too much longer, though. Their food would eventually run out.
He also told us the scab population in New York was insanely large, and had actually organized city blocks into nests. The zombies ruled the streets, though, and even the scabs had trouble navigating around the city.
The second thing he told us was about fire. It was something none of us had considered or witnessed since the first days of The Awakening. Zombies, it seemed, were wary of fire.
They would hesitate where fire was concerned. I guess it has something to do with the heat, similar to the way zombies acted if the sun was out.
When Fish and I had first met, I remember we passed a school that had burned out. Zombie corpses littered the grass around the building, as if they were fleeing from it. It started to make sense to me and I mentioned it to Fish. He remembered the school as well.
According to Fish, though, zombies running from fire wasn’t a good thing.
Cecil, Fish, Campbell, DJ, Barry and I were all sitting in Campbell’s quarters. It was actually a fifth wheel camper that also doubled as a meeting place. It wasn’t large, but the six of us were able to cram in. Fish regularly had me sit in on the meetings, though he would tell me to keep my mouth shut unless I had something productive to say.
“So, we start using fire when we make our runs. I’m sure DJ and Preacher can come up with some sort of flamethrower that we can use. That should keep the zombies back,” Cecil proposed.
“We do have a nice supply of propane tanks, though it seems like a waste,” DJ concluded.
“Dumb idea,” Fish grunted.
“Excuse me?” Cecil said, a little shocked by Fish’s comment. I was too. Fish and Cecil usually thought along the same lines.
“Explain?” Campbell motioned to Fish.
“Well, sir, if we start using fire on our runs, we could end up setting the whole city ablaze.” Fish sat back and set his hands on the small table between them.
“Is that such a bad thing?” Cecil argued. “Granted, we might lose supplies we have yet to procure, but think of all the dead-heads we’ll fry, let alone the scabs. Hell, we might want to just burn the city for that reason alone.”
“Ever hear of rats leaving a sinking ship?” Fish countered.
“I don’t follow.” Cecil shifted uncomfortably.
“The kid brought up something to me earlier,” Fish growled, tossing his thumb my way. “He and I came across a burned out school. We saw the area littered with freshly fried Zulu corpses surrounding it. Put that on the scale of the city.” Fish put his finger to the table and elevated his voice. “Thousands— hell, tens of thousands of Zulus all breaking for the wood line to escape the fire. How long until they make it to us? Not to mention burning out the scabs’ nests. Where are they going to go? You think they’re going to stick around for the barbeque? No, they’re going to set up shop out here.”
Cecil grimaced. I joined him. After all, I really didn’t consider the large scale implications of us burning down the city.
“He’s right,” Campbell said after a moment. “We also have to consider the fires spreading into the brush and burning around us. I know it’s wet here, but that doesn’t mean a strong enough blaze wouldn’t take over the marshes.” The Captain paused and then looked at Fish. “However, Cecil is right that we should use this to our advantage. We could set up burn pits around Camp Holly, controlled, of course, so the fires don’t get out of hand.”
“I see where you’re coming from,” DJ told Fish, “but we can at least consider using fire as a last resort. Maybe arm the runners with torches. Do some tests, you know? See how much flame is needed to ward off the dead-heads.”
The discussion continued as they hammered out ideas on how to use this new discovery. About a half an hour into the discussion, Campbell’s radio burst to life.
“Captain, this is Private Manns,” his receiver squawked.
“Go ahead,” Campbell replied.
“Sir, we have radio transmissions,” Manns spat out, and then continued with childish excitement. “Sir, it’s local!”
Chapter 14
Mount Up
June 23
rd
Afternoon
“Remember your protocols,” Campbell transmitted back to Manns.
Once Private Manns said the words “it’s local”, everyone started to get up and hustle through the doorway.
A few days earlier, we had set up two more communication towers. One was a couple of miles to the north, the other a couple of miles to the west. Solar panels provided the power for them, but they were basically just there for receiving radio signals. Generally, we could now tell which direction any communication was coming from. The direction of Todd Brown from Oregon and John Ivanison from Maine had already been confirmed.
Distance, however, was another matter. Private Manns said that we would have to put our triangulating towers much further away from us to get any accuracy over a hundred miles from our location. That was impossible for our little survival camp.
So when Manns said it was local, he wasn’t kidding.
All of us ran toward the communications tent. We found Manns listening intently to his earphones and scratching down notes on a sheet of paper.
Fish grabbed his shoulder and the private shot out of his seat in surprise.
“Scared the shit out of me,” Manns breathed.
Campbell ignored his reaction. “What do you have, Private?”
“Sir, I haven’t needed to follow protocols. No one is talking.”
“What do you mean?” Campbell said, glaring into the computer screen. It all looked Greek to me, but Campbell was an Intelligence Officer. There was a good chance he knew what the various lines and codes scrolling across the bottom meant.
“It’s encrypted, sir. And it’s one of our encryptions, though I don’t have it in my database.”
“Can’t you hack into it?” Barry asked, but everyone ignored him. Being a civilian, Barry had little knowledge of what exactly Campbell’s Intelligence Unit did. Barry wasn’t a moron, but he was out of his element.
“How long until you break it?” Campbell inquired, pulling another chair up next to Manns.
“Working on it now, sir. I already know it’s a Navy encryption, but updates from INSCOM were slow coming when the world started falling apart.”
“Answer the Captain’s question, Private,” Fish ordered.
Like everyone else, Fish was scanning the data on the monitor. I wasn’t sure if he could understand it or not. I really didn’t know what kind of training Fish had as a Special Forces Operative. While some were trained in Intelligence, Fish didn’t seem like the type of operator who would be sitting in front of a computer screen breaking encryptions.
“A few minutes… ten at the most. Sorry, sir.” Manns blushed and continued to punch keys on the computer.
Time went by slowly, but after a few minutes, Private Manns reached up and turned the volume dial up.
“Got it, sir!” he excitedly exclaimed.
“—come in, over!” a deep male voice growled through the speaker.
Everyone exchanged glances, but before anyone could say a word, the radio erupted again.
“This is Major Dobson, US Air Force. Calling any friendlies. We are in need of immediate assistance. Please respond!” The man’s voice was controlled, but I could sense it was on the verge of sounding desperate.
Manns looked up at Campbell. “Sir?”
The Captain didn’t respond, but he did pick up the microphone and pressed the transmit button.
“Major Dobson, this is Captain Campbell of the U.S. Army. What is your position? Over.” He took his finger off the button and turned to Manns. “Get his exact location,” he quickly ordered the private.
Manns nodded and went to work on the keyboard.
“Captain,” the deep voice blurted over the speaker. There was a definite sense of relief and urgency as he continued. “Exact position unknown. No working GPS or maps of the area. We are off a road called New Haven near the coast line. Last major intersection was—” he paused for a moment, and then continued to transmit. “Old Dixie Highway, Route 1.”
“SITREP?” Campbell returned over the radio.
“Situation is FUBAR, captain. We need extraction immediately! Surrounded by approximately one-zero-zero-zero Zulus.”
I raised an eyebrow to Fish, who commonly referred to zombies as Zulus. He gave me a smirk and then turned back to the situation unfolding.
Campbell turned to Manns and gave him a ‘hurry up’ glare. The specialist nodded and continued working away at the terminal.
“How many in your group, Major?” Campbell asked.
“Goddammit, Captain. We need extraction ASAP!” The Major paused a moment, apparently containing himself, and then continued. “Four, repeat four friendlies. One is a VIP. I am currently separated from the rest of them. Over.”
“Got it, sir!” Manns exclaimed and grabbed a fold-out UTM map of Melbourne. UTM maps were the Army’s choice for navigation. We procured them from the Melbourne National Guard Armory two weeks beforehand. “He ain’t lying, sir. The signal is coming from smack dab in the middle of Historic Melbourne.”
‘Historic Melbourne’ was regularly referred to by locals as Downtown Melbourne. The word Downtown was misleading, though. Melbourne really didn’t have a city center, nor did it have a gaggle of tall buildings in the downtown region. Historic Melbourne was instead comprised of a main road that ran about two miles long and lining the road and the side streets were tightly knit buildings. It was the most popular hotspot for nightlife, though there were plenty of shops and stores mixed in with the restaurants and bars. The main road, New Haven Avenue, continued after the downtown area to cross over the Indian River via the Causeway and end at the Boardwalk in Melbourne Beach.
“So, he’s not lying,” DJ confirmed.
“Not about where he is,” Barry added. “However, we all heard what those criminals in Orlando were doing. How do we know this Dobson guy isn’t trying to pull us into a trap?”
“Maybe,” Fish conceded, “but that Major is definitely military. From what we know, those boys in Orlando were faking it. And we’re forgetting what the Major said. VIP.”
“Think it’s the President?” Manns asked.
“Doesn’t matter who it is,” Campbell interjected before the conversation continued. “We go.”
“Sir—” DJ began to protest, but Campbell cut him off.
“It’s not up for debate, XO. I will lead the rescue mission.” He turned to Fish. “Top, gather a sufficient force and meet in the motor pool in ten.” Fish spun without comment and jogged back to the main part of the camp.
“Are you there, Captain?” Major Dobson called.
“Here, Major. Gathering a rescue force now.” Campbell released the transmitter and turned around, facing those of us who were still standing there. “How far to reach them?” It was a general question to anyone nearby who knew the area.
Seconds ticked by and no one answered. Two days before I came down with the sickness that infected half of the population, I was in Historic Melbourne celebrating St. Patrick’s Day at a street party.
After a moment, I decided to speak up. “Sir, it’s quite a few miles away, but it is a straight shot. Straight, of course, through a lot of jammed up cars. I’d say about twenty to thirty minutes if we move fast.”
Campbell looked at DJ and the big man concurred with a nod.
“Thanks, Christian.” The captain turned back to the microphone. “Major, we are looking at approximately three-zero minutes. Repeat, three-zero minutes. You are on an encrypted radio, so we will not have any communications with you directly. Keep in contact with Specialist Manns on our end, and he will update us. Campbell out.”
“You better get geared up,” DJ said, clamping his large hand on my shoulder.
It took me a second to realize he was telling me I was about to go on the rescue mission.
“Right,” I said, and scurried off to find Boomer.
I found him with Karina and just about every adult who was not on guard duty. Around forty people were gathered around Fish in the courtyard. I jogged up in the middle of his speech.
“—and we are going to go get them!” Fish said in a commanding voice. “Enrique, you’re driving Big Red. Joining you will be myself and the Captain, Christian, Chad and Gardner. Cecil, you’re taking Vader with Trent and Sam. Jenna, you’re following up with Gonzo and Daniel in your truck.”
“Why are we risking our butts for some dumbasses that brought a battalion of dead-heads down on themselves?” Gonzales asked irritably.
Rachel, Gonzales’ girlfriend, was nervously rubbing his arm with her left hand. Her eyes were glazed over and she looked pale. But it was her right hand lightly caressing her abdomen that caught my attention.
“Because,” Fish barked, “the Captain says so. The dress for this dance is full ammo, body armor, and the Good Book, if you have one.”
Gonzales appeared as if he was going to retort, but Rachel pulled him back.
“The XO is in charge until we return. If there are any questions… too fucking bad,” he growled. “Gear up and be in the pool in five mikes!”
People did have questions, but Fish ignored them. He marched through the crowd and grabbed me by my shirt. I almost tripped as he towed me along.
“You might want to leave your mutt. A thousand zombies pretty much leave him useless,” he said as we quickly made our way to the shack. Boomer was galloping behind me, attempting to catch up.
I followed Fish through the door. “I don’t think Boomer would forgive me if I did.” Boomer came up to my side as I began to pull my gear out and dress up.
“He’s a dumb dog. Who cares?” Fish grunted as he strapped on his body armor.
The body armor we wore wasn’t heavy. In fact, it was pretty light. Mostly consisting of sports padding like shin guards and motorcycle protection, it would do little against small arms fire. But that was not why we wore it. Its primary purpose was to prevent zombie teeth from breaking our skin.
I blindly petted Boomer’s head and loaded up my assault vest with ammo.
“I care,” I continued. “And he’s not dumb.”
“Really?” Fish scoffed.
I glared at the old sniper and saw he was staring down at Boomer. The canine was happily licking between his hind quarters.
“Like you wouldn’t if you could,” I joked.
“Got me there,” Fish admitted as he finished gearing up. He was ready in less than two minutes. I wasn’t even done loading my vest.
“Fish… Maybe we should let Gonzales sit this one out,” I said seriously. An image of Rachel rubbing her belly formed in my mind. “I think—”
“I don’t care what you think, kid. Gonzales is a pain in the ass, but he’s one of the best runners we have. We need him.” Fish grabbed his rifle and then added, “He’ll do his duty.”
I wanted to tell Fish what I thought was going on between the two love birds, but he quickly exited the shack before I was done. If Rachel was pregnant, I concluded, it really didn’t matter. Gonzales still had to do his job. Maybe I felt that he should have stayed because of the mission we were about to embark on. Charging into a thousand zombies to save four people was probably the most dangerous thing we had attempted since we settled in Camp Holly.
I sighed and glanced at Boomer. He was sitting now, his tail wagging back and forth, watching everything I was doing. He knew we were about to go somewhere and I wasn’t about to leave him behind.
“Come on, boy,” I called as I made my way toward the motor pool.
Right outside our sleeping quarters, Fish was talking intensely with DJ.
“He needs to stay in this camp, and you know it,” the XO proclaimed.
Fish nodded, “Yeah, I just didn’t want to disagree with him in front of everyone there. I’ll back you up.”
“Who needs to stay?” I asked as I approached the two of them.
“The Captain,” DJ replied. “We need him here.”
I nodded. I really didn’t understand why they wanted him to stay back at the camp, but I figured they had their reasons. Campbell rarely made runs into the city. I just figured that was because he was the boss, and the boss had other things to worry about.
We made our way to the front gates where the vehicles were kept. The numerous residents of Camp Holly not designated to go on the rescue mission were gathered in small groups, whispering to each other about what was happening.
Fish and DJ shared a private conversation as we walked and, at one point, called over Lee Ann as we passed her. After a brief word, we continued to meet up at the trucks.
We entered the motor pool and I saw everyone starting to gather near Big Red and Vader. The two trucks were monsters compared to the rest of the vehicles in the compound.
Campbell was talking to Kat. The woman was holding a crate full of radios and was handing one of them to the Captain.