Transformation: Zombie Crusade VI (17 page)

He snarled a warning to his pack as he retreated back to the protection of the woods. He was curious about what was happening here, but he didn’t see any reason to expose his small group to unnecessary danger. As he led them away from the road, he could hear the not-too-distant sounds of an advancing crowd over the ringing in his ears. Will stopped to allow his pack-mates to hear the approaching horde as well, but their attention was diverted by the appearance of another alpha with a handful of followers sprinting towards them.

The group skidded to a stop when they saw Will and his pack, then the unfamiliar alpha advanced slowly and deliberately, making strange, high-pitched cooing sounds.

Will made no sound in reply, but met the newcomer half-way. They stood face-to-face in silence for nearly a minute before the strange alpha cocked his head and extended his hand. A hundred thoughts seemed to explode in Will’s mind. Instinctively, he understood that this was a gesture of friendship, but he didn’t have a label for this feeling. He reached out and lightly tapped the alpha’s hand, pointed back at himself, then pointed in the opposite direction of the road. The alpha grunted in recognition, and together the two packs hurried away from whatever danger awaited the assembling masses.  

When Luke returned to the fire, he was surprised to find his friends arguing about the Hussites.

Maddy sounded exasperated. “He said they had rolling forts.” She turned to Luke. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but you need to tell us more about those Hussites you mentioned after the battle today.”

Luke smiled. “A history lesson is more Jack’s kind of thing,” he pointed out, “and you usually complain whenever I start sounding like a history professor.”

“It’s in your genes; you can’t help it,” Maddy countered. “I would have thought you’d be happy that I’m finally showing an interest.”

“She’s right,” Gracie added, “you may never get this opportunity again.”

Luke’s stomach growled, but he didn’t trust himself to eat anything just yet. Talking about the Hussites would keep his mind off other, more troubling things. “Okay, so, around the year 1400 there was this preacher in a place called Bohemia, pretty much the modern day Czech Republic. Anyway, he had some radical ideas for the time, and as usual, the church managed to get their hands on him and burnt him at the stake. He’d been promised safe passage if he went to a council and explained himself, but they just tortured him for weeks and then executed him. A lot of people in Bohemia were pissed off about that, and most of them joined together and revolted against the Roman Church. Since the nobles and high-ranking clergy were pretty much intertwined in those days, that meant the Hussites were mostly a bunch of peasants.”

“Medieval peasants usually didn’t fare well in their uprisings,” Gracie pointed out. “I remember that much from world history class.”

“No,” Luke agreed, “most of the time they ended up getting butchered, but not this time.”

“Why were the Hussites different?” Zach asked with genuine interest.

“Well, a military genius from the upper class did join the movement, a guy named Jan Ziska, and he developed an army based on what resources he had available.”

“And he made rolling forts, right?” Maddy pressed.

Luke pretended to ignore her and continued, “The vast bulk of his forces were men, and some women, from the agricultural peasant class. Instead of trying to turn these people into knights, Ziska developed tactics based on the farmers’ strengths. Literally, they turned ploughshares and other farm-implements into weapons of war.” He turned to Maddy, “But the smartest thing they did was transform their wagons into rolling forts.”

Maddy smacked Zach on his head and snorted, “I told you so.”

Gracie focused on her husband; Luke sounded fine, but his body was tense. She walked around behind him and started to massage the tight muscles in his neck. “So our modified trailers reminded you of those wagon-forts . . .”

“Yeah—ouch!” Luke replied. “Which is why I should have thought of it sooner. It’s a good thing I have such a smart wife, but could you be a little gentler back there?” 

“I’m glad you appreciate me,” Gracie responded as she wrapped her arms around her husband, “but it feels like you have rocks in your neck. I’ll give you a break since our friends here are waiting for you to finish the story.”

Luke leaned back against Gracie and continued, “Ziska would anchor his flanks with war wagons, or draw them up into laagers, and his farmers would shoot crossbows and primitive handguns from behind their solid walls. The Pope’s armies, which included knights and fighters from all over Europe, launched five different crusades against the Hussites, and lost them all. Those war wagons were tough nuts to crack.”

Zach figured out where the topic was headed. “And you’re thinking of trying to develop our own version of these ‘war-wagons’?”

Luke smiled. “Why not?”

“But where would we get the horses to pull them?” Zach furrowed his brow in thought. “And how would we manage to take care of a bunch of horses?”

Luke’s smile grew. “Henry Ford already figured that out for us.”

The plan was forming in Gracie’s mind as well. “You want to try to modify vehicles at the depot, right?”

“Yep,” Luke confessed. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and we should be able to make it work. As far as I know, all Army vehicles run on diesel; that stuff lasts a lot longer than regular gasoline.”

Maddy joined Zach among the ranks of the doubting. “The military spent all their ordnance in the war against the infected; what makes you think they saved any diesel?”

    Gracie decided to run interference. “How about, we all just wait until we get down there and see what we can scrounge up? Right now we’re all just speculating, but if we could possibly get some armored-up Hummers on the road—”

“Exactly,” Luke finished. “We could advance westward on two axes, one by river, another by land.”

Zach stood up and brushed crumbs and snow from the front of his coat. “Okay, so tomorrow we hit the depot and see what we can see. I guess now we finish the mop-up and start getting packed up. So much for my plans for a lazy afternoon.”

CHAPTER 15

A world in white greeted Luke when he awoke the morning after the battle; Zach’s company had maintained the guard rotation overnight, and the scouts reported that the snowfall lay at least twelve inches deep in undisturbed areas. Luke was extremely anxious to get to the depot, but he also realized that a six-mile march through a foot of snow, after a two-day ordeal of preparing for and participating in their biggest battle to date, wasn’t something he should subject his young army to first thing this morning. He thought they deserved to sleep a bit longer and have a decent meal or two before tackling what promised to be a cold and arduous journey. Of course, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t scout the base on his own. Plus, he had a promise to keep in Texarkana.

Luke waited until the sun had fully broken the horizon before waking Gracie to share his plans. He concluded with, “You know that I’m not needed here today, and we’ve already established that I’m not in very much danger out there.” He didn’t mention that he thought word was beginning to spread among the troops about why he always wore mirrored glasses. The curious stares had begun the previous evening, and Luke knew he would have to address the issue with the entire group very soon.

“You’re not going alone; we have no idea what to expect at the depot. You go, I go,” she stated firmly.

“You know I know how good you are in a fight, but you’ll just slow me down,” Luke replied, trying not to sound insulting. “I was just going to have a quick look around so we’ll know what to expect before everybody gets there.”

“How about this,” Gracie countered, “we’ll take most of my troops, including mechanics, and get a snow plow running. You can’t deny that’s a good idea.”

The truth was, Luke hadn’t even thought about snowplows. “That’s actually a really good idea. You think some of your people could operate one?”

“Do you even listen to your company commanders?”

“Uh, yeah,” Luke stammered, “of course I do.”

Gracie frowned as she shook her head. “So it’s just your wife you don’t listen to?” She sighed. “Never mind, I know I’ve told you about the crazy skills among the members of the headquarters company a number of times. We have mechanics, tool and die people, welders, road-workers, heavy-equipment operators, two graduates of culinary arts school; hell, we even have a farrier.”

“Umm, what’s a farrier?”

Gracie squinted at Luke skeptically. “You’re just playing with me now; you know farriers shoe horses.” She ran her fingers through her hair and reached around Luke for her canteen. After taking a big swig, she added, “Well, it’s a lot more complicated than that, but we have one.”

“We’re pretty lucky, aren’t we? I mean, under the circumstances.” Luke pulled Gracie close. “I know I’m a lucky man. Your snow plow idea is perfect; I’d still like to scout ahead, but you can get your squads together and follow me.”

“I can do that,” Gracie reluctantly agreed, “but I’d rather go with you.” Before Luke could say anything, she waved her hand dismissively. “I know, I know—you’ve got like, superhero skills now, and you can move a lot faster on your own.”

“Actually, there’s more to it than that; I really don’t mind that you’d slow me down,” Luke reassured her. “I didn’t mention it, but Terry saw my eyes earlier. I told him what happened after the bite, and he wasn’t scared at all. I think I would feel better if he’d been a little bit scared, but he looked at me with such reverence, I felt like a cult leader or something.”

Gracie smiled and took Luke’s face in her hands. “What is your main job these days, Luke?” He looked slightly confused, so she clarified, “I mean actual job—the work that you do.”

“A leader of an army, I guess.”

“Exactly, you’re the leader of an army. You need to inspire the troops. With everything that’s happened, it’s amazing that we’ve found people who haven’t been defeated by hopelessness. Babe, you’d be inspirational even if you hadn’t survived a bite, but you did survive.”

Luke looked exasperated. “I know, but that doesn’t make me infallible. People shouldn’t blindly follow me just because I’ve survived a bite—it was stupid of me to let myself get bit in the first place.”

“Maybe,” Gracie countered, “but maybe not. You always trust your gut, like you’re tapped in to some plan that’s bigger than both of us. That’s why we’re heading west now. It may make you uncomfortable, but you need to accept that part of being the leader of your army is also being the symbol of hope—the kick-ass symbol of hope.”

Luke was quiet for a minute. “OK,” he finally responded, “but if I have to be the symbol of hope, you have to be the symbol of smart. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you. Your ideas have saved us more times than I can count.”

Gracie reached up and ruffled Luke’s hair. “You’re exaggerating, but I love you for it.”

“I’m totally serious. I know a lot of history, and I study military books, but you seem to be naturally interested in everyone we meet and everything they do. Then you come up with great ideas that seem so obvious, but nobody else thought of them—like the snowplow.”

Gracie leaned back and crossed her arms. “Dad told me a story once, about his first stint in the Army. He was working down at the motor pool one day and saw his lieutenant’s butt sticking out of the hood of a five-ton truck.”

She held up a hand to forestall Luke’s obvious question. “He knew who it was because the lieutenant was a five-foot-nothing wisp of a pretty Hispanic woman who’d arrived in the battalion a week earlier. He said that the butt had already been admired by all, in spite of the BDUs they wore in those days.”

“Okay,” Luke acknowledged, “one question answered.”

Gracie continued, “When Dad politely pointed out to her that the enlisted soldiers had motor pool covered, this young officer just as politely told him that she intended to learn everything about the truck, because she would be riding shotgun during the next deployment. Dad said she was just as attentive on the ranges they practiced on, PT, and everything else the company did. He told me that story lots of times, and it’s an example I’ll always remember. Dad may be gone now, but I still want him to be proud of me.”

The melancholy mood was broken by the sound of an approaching ATV. Gracie gave Luke a little shove. “Go—I’ll get my soldiers organized and head out for the depot as soon as possible. I’ll try to get a feel for any rumors that might be circulating about the mysterious Captain Seifert.”

Barnes had awakened with a slight headache; he assumed it was from the wine at dinner the previous evening. Andi had demonstrated a higher tolerance for alcohol than he’d anticipated, so he’d indulged in a few more glasses than usual. He was a bit irritated that sharing a bottle and a half of decent merlot hadn’t impaired her judgment or loosened her tongue—in fact, she’d shown no signs of intoxication at all. He hoped that she would still be susceptible to a substantial hangover. He’d been anticipating stories of Jack and the resistance, or at least of Jack and Andi’s trite romance. Instead, they’d debated politics and human nature; the conversation had been mildly interesting, but he would have greatly preferred a window into Jack’s world.

Although a complimentary breakfast in the dining hall was a regular feature for the staff and construction workers, the president’s presence in the former hotel had resulted in tightened security; the dining room was no longer open to “the public.” Only certified individuals with the proper clearance were allowed in the newly restricted areas. For this reason, Barnes was surprised to see a man gazing out the window near the table that had been meticulously set up for the president’s morning feast. He didn’t recognize the man’s back, and the stranger’s uniform was wrinkled and stained.

“Most people try to clean up before meeting their president for breakfast,” Barnes snapped.

Daniels turned around with an insolent grin. “My apologies, Mr. President—I just arrived a few minutes ago, and I thought you’d be interested in hearing my good news.”

“You should know that I don’t like surprises, General,” Barnes responded in a much friendlier tone, “but I do like good news. Have a seat; breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“Thank you, sir. Right now, I’d really appreciate some coffee.” Daniels sat down across from Barnes and wolfishly eyed the sugar and cream as he poured himself a steaming cup of what was formerly known as Pike Place when ordered at the local Starbucks.

Barnes impatiently waited until Daniels had prepared himself a cup of coffee and taken the first sip. “So what is this good news of yours?”

Daniels smacked his lips with satisfaction as the coffee met with his palate’s approval. He smiled again. “I’ve personally completed a tour of our staging areas, and as of last night, we have more than six hundred thousand ‘soldiers’ assembled in and around the military bases and parklands east of L.A.”

  Barnes forced a frown in spite of being secretly pleased at the number. “We’re still outnumbered by those damn Mormons, and every one of them is carrying three guns and a spear.”

Daniels knew his commander well enough to see through the dour expression. “Sir, we’ll double that number in ten days at the rate we’re progressing. Ten round-up units are reporting in as overflowing, which means that another half-million are headed this way. We’ve been working overtime rounding up cattle too; fortunate for us that Cali was one of the top five cattle producing states before the outbreak.”

Barnes knew that Daniels was trying to impress him, but if his reports were true . . .

Daniels seemed to read his president’s thoughts. “We’ll be ready to move on Utah well ahead of schedule if needed,” he declared with confidence. “We should be able to wipe Utah off the map within a month.”

Gracie assembled her company on the bridge. “We’re going to march to the depot this morning and try to locate a snow plow and other heavy equipment; I’m sure the rest of the army would appreciate an open road down to the base. If any of you are hiding an injury from the fight yesterday, or otherwise think you might have a problem slogging through a foot of snow for six miles, please let me or your squad leader know ASAP.”

A burly-looking platoon sergeant raised his hand. When Gracie acknowledged the man he explained, “I was stationed at the depot for almost two years. Decided to stay in the area after gettin’ out, but that was just six months ago; I know the base real well.”

Another hand went up. “I was stationed there too; still was, when the outbreak happened and most of us got killed fightin’. One of the communities along the river took me and my buddy in when they saw we was soldiers.”

“Is your buddy in this army?” Gracie asked.

The soldier sadly shook his head. “He left a few weeks later to head out for Dallas, goin’ to look for his family.”

Gracie nodded her understanding. “He may still be alive, and you definitely are; thanks for joining up with us.”

The young man smiled as another voice, that of a young woman, piped up from the fourth rank of her platoon. “I know the base, too, ma’am.”

“Step out of the ranks,” Gracie said, raising her voice slightly, “I can’t see you back there.”

The soldier looked to be about fourteen, though Gracie knew she was supposed to be at least four years older than that to be part of this army. For all her youthfulness, there was a hardness to the girl’s expression that Gracie recognized.

“My dad worked at the depot my whole life, ma’am; he was the head of base maintenance, and when I wasn’t in school, I was usually with him.”

Gracie smiled at the girl. “Did you live on the base?”

The girl returned the smile. “There’s no housing on the base, ma’am; well, except for the cabins by the lake, but they’re just part of the campground. It’s a huge base, but I do know where a lot of stuff is.” She hesitated, then asked, “Ma’am? Will Captain Seifert be coming with us to the depot?”

A hush fell over the group, as if everyone had stopped breathing at once.
Looks like Luke was right about the gossip,
Gracie thought
.
She cleared her throat and answered crisply, “We’ll be meeting Luke, Captain Seifert, there—he left a while ago. I know he has plans for addressing all the troops to go over what we’ve accomplished and what our next steps will be. He’ll be taking questions if there’s anything in particular you’d like to ask him.” A quiet murmur temporarily replaced the silence, and several soldiers were nodding their heads respectfully. Gracie continued, “Right now, you all need to be focused on one thing: this mission. Any of you know how to run a snowplow?”

One of the soldiers who’d been stationed at the depot raised his hand, as did two other men Gracie knew only by sight. They stepped forward and explained that they had been “dirt-boys” in the Air Force Reserve before the outbreak and had been trained to operate any machine needed in the construction of runways and other infrastructure vital to Air Force operations around the world.

We really are lucky
, Gracie thought. She told the squads that they would be moving out in fifteen minutes and dismissed them to prepare. She was impressed when the entire group had geared up and reassembled with nearly five minutes to spare. She radioed Luke to let him know that they were about to head out, and he reported no signs of hunter activity along the road. He told her to take Highway 82 down to the main gate, and to let him know when her troops arrived at the intersection of 8 and 82.