Verge of Extinction (Apex Predator Book 3) (9 page)

The rest of the group crept behind the two.  Theresa had her ever present shotgun at the ready and SSgt Brown had his rifle ready to shoot if need be.  Jen and Kerry kept an eye on the zombies in the lobby.  Miraculously, none had seen the group escaping the elevator.

Another zombie fell to the unseen blade of Josiah.  Again the body crumpled quietly to the ground.  Jackson was beginning to believe that they would get to the hallway without incident.

Then it happened.  One of the zombies trying to shove its way into the stairwell fell to the ground.  It turned as it tried to pull itself off of the ground.  The monster’s gaze fell to Jackson and the rest of the group.  It let out a loud moan as it regained its feet.  Other zombies began turning in the direction of the warning.  Suddenly ten pairs of pale grey eyes were staring hungrily at the small group of scavengers.

“Run!” SSgt Brown barked.  Jackson threw a shoulder into a zombie who was beginning to turn on the group.  The woman, who couldn’t have weighed a hundred pounds and could have been a hundred years old, went sprawling across the floor.  Jackson was sure the fall should have broken her hip.  He didn’t look back to confirm this.

He rounded the corner and slammed into another zombie and bounced off, falling to the side.  This one wore a set of light green scrubs and was covered in blood.  Its short hair was matted with the blood of something it had recently killed.  The man was heavy, but not fat.  Jackson was sure when this zombie was alive he had spent a lot of time in a gym.

The zombie reached for the soldier.  Jackson clutched his bayonet with both hands.  As he did, he coiled his feet underneath his butt.  Just as the giant of a zombie reached him, he lunged at its face; bayonet leading the way.  The tip of the blade hit the zombie in the face between the upper lip and the bottom of its nose.  Jackson could feel the metal grinding over bone as it entered the zombie’s skull.  The zombie went weightless as the soldier’s legs reached full extension.  The sudden shifting weight caused him to fall flat on his face, dead zombie under him.

He thrust his hand into the ground in an attempt to regain his feet.  Something was wrong.  He couldn’t push himself off of the zombie.  Suddenly he realized there was a stabbing pain in his lower stomach.  He looked down to see the hilt of the bayonet had driven itself under his MOLLE vest and was jamming him hard in the stomach.

He gasped as he tried to push himself off the zombie.  As he rose, to his horror, the zombie’s head moved with him.  In one last ditch effort to spread its vile disease, the zombie had bitten down on Jackson’s pistol belt.  The green nylon took the full brunt of the zombie’s bite.

Bang!  Theresa’s shotgun suddenly broke his trance.  Several other shots rang out almost as one.  The gunshots quickly drew his thoughts back to the task at hand.  Strong hands grasped him under the arms and jerked him to his feet.  Josiah looked down at the zombie’s head as it fell to the ground with a thud, his eyes wide with fear.

“Don’t worry,” Jackson said as he yanked his bayonet free.  “It didn’t get me.”  Josiah’s face broke into a slight smile as he grabbed the soldier by the front of his vest and dragged him to the storage room.  Kerry slammed the door behind them.

Thirty minutes later, they were at the Haven, drinking coffee.  All but Jen; she was on the roof, staring at the hospital in the distance.  Several people had tried to talk to her since they had arrived.  She would always listen to what they had to say, and then politely ask them to leave.  She never let them see her cry; although many had seen the tracks of her tears on her cheeks.  She wouldn’t even talk to Theresa.

SSgt Brown and Roy were busy planning their next move.  SSgt Brown figured that if he had friendly people around here and there were relatively few zombies, then he was going to try to work this area as much as possible.  He had even agreed that he would try to find things Roy and his people needed.  He said it would kind of be like a tax for hunting on the king’s lands.

Roy had assured him that wasn’t necessary, but SSgt Brown insisted.  “Well then,” the sailor said as he stood.  “Come with me and I’ll show you what we have for you.”

He led SSgt Brown outside to the Orange Jeep.  A pair of legs hung from the open door on the passenger side.  As they got closer, SSgt Brown noticed the large chrome antenna already mounted to the rear.  “We found a few CB radios,” Roy announced with a smile.

He approached the door.  “How’s it going, Jeff?”

“Almost done,” the voice replied.  “Give me about five minutes.” 

The sailor turned to SSgt Brown.  “We have one just like it inside.  We’ll have ours on from sun up to mid-afternoon.  Anytime you’re in the area, we’ll keep it on until you leave.”

“That’s great!  But, I need one more if I could get one.”  The sailor looked at him quizzically.  “You know, I need one for the boat.  I would think a sailor would have thought of that.”

“I didn’t do a lot of time on ships my friend.  This ole’ sailor was strictly a land lubber.”  They both chuckled as they climbed back onto the roof.

The two men looked at Jen and stopped laughing.  Roy had pushed SSgt. Brown to have Jen look at some his sick and injured.  There was nothing pressing, but he figured if he had access to a nurse, he’d use her.  SSgt Brown had to explain that the man he’d lost today was Jen’s husband.  At that point, Roy let the matter drop.

Now he was face to face with her again.  He didn’t know what to say.  Everyone at the Haven had lost loved ones.  Some had been forced to do the deed themselves.  All had the same look as Jen when they thought about it.  Roy thought about it.  He still hadn’t figured out how to talk to someone who was grieving.

The two men just stood for a moment staring, slack jawed, at the neophyte widow.  Her cheeks wet and streaked with tears.  She rubbed her bloodshot eyes.  Roy tried to speak first.

              “Jen,” he began.  “I’m…  I…  Well, we…”  Mercifully, her gaze returned once more to the hospital.  SSgt Brown placed a hand on her shoulder.

              “Jen,” he said quietly.  “We have to go soon.”  His touch was comforting somehow to Jen.  It was the gentle touch of a true friend.  It gave her a sense of peace, even if it was fleeting.  She tried to smile at her friends.  “I’ll be ok,” she told them.  “I…  I just…”  She dropped her gaze and strode slowly away.

SSgt Brown motioned for Roy to follow.  His heart was heavy also.  He had always considered Mike to be a friend.  He was a good shot and had turned out to be a competent zombie killer.  He also knew that Mike had been a stabilizing force for Jen.  SSgt Brown had recognized very early on that Jen was volatile.  She was quick to anger and became disheartened very easily.  Without Mike, he wasn’t sure how stable she would be.

Sgt Procell was slowly circling a few hundred yards off shore as Jackson slammed on the Jeep’s brakes.  It took him only a moment to see the group and bring the boat to the shoreline.  He noticed immediately that Mike was missing.  The others remained silent as they loaded the medical supplies onto the boat.  A knot had formed in his stomach.  He wanted to know the details, but knew better than to ask in front of Jen.  He would find out from SSgt Brown later that evening.

A dozen people met them on the dock when they arrived back on the Island.  The crowd immediately began unloading the medical supplies and hauling them to the clinic.  No one noticed Jen as she slowly walked to hers and Mike’s room.

She quietly shut the door and lay down on her sleeping bag.  Curling into a tight ball, she began to sob.  Soon she was crying uncontrollably.  Her body shuddered with each tear.  She couldn’t think.  She couldn’t breathe.  Her chest was so tight; it felt as if it would burst with every breath she took.

She wasn’t prepared for this.  During this entire ordeal, she had never once worried about Mike.  He had always been there.  He had always been calm and collected.  He’d never once done anything to cause her to worry.  She had just known that he would survive this.  He’d always come through rough spots without trouble.  He was the ultimate survivor.  And now he was gone and she was alone.  The thought brought on another flood of tears and convulsions.

She had no idea how long she’d been on the floor when the door opened and shut.  It was so quiet.  The light that filled the room and then receded again was the only sign that the door had moved.  Suddenly a body slid behind her.  She tensed at the tender touch as small arms wrapped around her.

She could feel the small early pubescent breasts on her back.  The arms were much smaller than hers.  She knew at once it was Theresa.  The girl didn’t speak.  She just held Jen as a mother would hold a child.  Soon, Jen could feel the girl’s own body begin to shudder.  She too was crying for Mike.  She too felt pain at his passing.  Somehow, this made Jen feel a little better.  Something about knowing others shared in her pain lessened it just a bit.

“I’m telling you,” a woman’s voice screamed from the Bishop’s office.  He stood quietly listening.  “I don’t know anything about plumbing or fire hoses or things like that!”

“Ms. Hebert,” the Bishop said quietly.  “Have you ever heard of a camp follower?”

              The woman gasped audibly.  “I will have you know, sir, that I am no prostitute!”  SSgt Brown heard a chair creak loudly as someone shifted their position.

“Ma’am, I assume you are an educated woman. Would I be right in that assumption?”

              “Yes,” she replied angrily.  “I am a lawyer….”

“Good,” he cut her off.  “Then you will understand that I was not calling you a prostitute.  I will give you a small history lesson for free.”  Again the chair moaned under someone’s shifting weight.  “During the American Revolution there were a large number of soldier’s wives and other women who followed the army around.  They did things like: laundry, mend clothes, cook, nurse, and carry pitchers of water to the men on the gun lines.”

He paused for a brief moment.  “Have you ever heard of the term Molly Pitcher?”

“Yes,” she replied hesitantly.  “It sounds familiar.”

“Molly Pitcher,” he began.  “She was a woman named Mary Ludwig Hays.  Her husband was an American artilleryman at the battle of Monmouth.  It was hot that day in 1778, and many of the camp followers spent time carrying water to the soldiers.  Mrs. Hays saw her husband fall.  Instead of attending to him, or continuing on with water duty, she did something that women generally didn’t do in the 18
th
century.  She took his place at the gun and continued to service that cannon.”

“So, what does that have to do with me?” she asked.

“Staff Sergeant Brown!” the man bellowed.  “Please come in.”  He motioned for the NCO to have a seat next to Ms. Hebert.  “As you are too stubborn to follow the simple directions that I have given you, and Staff Sergeant Brown has lost a man today, you will take your place on the gun line.”  Her jaw dropped.

SSgt Brown couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He didn’t even know the Bishop knew about Mike.  That had been what he was here to discuss with him.  “You are now assigned to Staff Sergeant Brown’s foraging team.  Try not to get yourself killed.”  He waved her away.

“So, as you can see, I have heard you lost a man.  How is my nurse taking it?”

“She’s pretty broke up.  I lost track of her after we got back, but I’m pretty sure she’s found a place to curl up and cry it out.”  He didn’t tell the Bishop his concerns about her ability to function.  Not after he saw what the man had done to Ms. Hebert.

“Is there anything else I need to know?” the Bishop asked.

“Only that we did manage to get everything on the list,” the soldier replied.

“Good.  Be here at eight in the morning.  I’ll have tomorrow’s list ready for you.”  He waved SSgt Brown away.

Day 38

The Island

              Kerry carefully opened the door to Jen’s room.  In her left hand was a plate of food, a bottle of orange juice hung out of her right cargo pocket.  The sight before her made her heart sink.  There was Jen and Theresa lying on the floor, cuddled together as one.  She couldn’t imagine the pain Jen was going through.  She thought about her parents, little brother, and her uncle.  She missed Eddie the most.  She had long ago accepted the fact that they had not survived.  But, she did not have to see it for herself.

              The two stirred as the door latched shut.  Jen sat up as Theresa simply rolled over.

“Good morning,” Kerry said with the cheeriest voice she could muster.  “I brought some breakfast.”  She held the plate a bit higher.  “You really should eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jen replied.

“You need to eat.  You also need to get down to the clinic.  Folks are going to start lining up to see your pretty face.”  She looked at Theresa.  “You need to go get something to eat too.  Staff Sergeant Brown said we’re out of here in an hour.”

Theresa looked at Jen; her eyes betrayed the pain she felt.  “Ok, Miss Jen.  I’ll be back this afternoon.”  She hugged the older woman in the tightest embrace she could.  She whispered “I love you,” ever so softly in the older woman’s ear and kissed her gently on the cheek.  Then, she was gone.