Zompoc Survivor: Exodus (19 page)

“I’m Lance Corporal Porter,” he introduced himself as he sat down. “You can call me Mike, though.” Porsche gushed her name, and he pretty much ignored every other name that came his way after that.

“Mike, I noticed you guys seem to have no problem fraternizing with us civilians,” I said. “Doesn’t that make your CO nervous?”

“When we’re off duty, he’s got no problem with it,” he said without losing a single watt of smile power. “You folks aren’t prisoners; you’re US citizens, just like us.” He would have said more, but any conversation was drowned out by the drone of a C-130 taking off. It rose into sight over the wall, and I did a double take. I’d expected to see an olive drab plane grabbing sky, but this one was black, with gray tail numbers and no military blazon on its side or tail. I went to say something to him and found myself having to wait as a black Chinook went overhead.

“Now those DHS pukes,” he pointed with his fork, “they didn’t like mixing with civilians. I’m glad they’re leaving.”

“They’re leaving?” Porsche said.

“Yeah,” Porter said. “I think that was the last of ‘em that just took off. Hell, you couldn’t get one of those lily white bastards to get near the fence, either. My lieutenant hated ‘em. He always had this fancy way of calling ‘em chickenshit.” He dropped his voice and screwed up his face into a distasteful expression. “Those DHS agents are the most risk averse sonsabitches I’ve ever seen.” Porsche laughed at the impression, and everyone else gave it at least a smile. The thing was, after seeing a group of them leave Captain Adams team to a group of ghouls, I had to agree with him. And that was the thing about the “risk averse” crowd. Cowards usually had a highly developed sense of danger. Any place they were leaving en masse was usually about to be the proverbial sinking ship.

“Then maybe we ought to be asking ourselves why they’re in such a big rush to leave,” I said.

“Probably the same reason we are,” Porter said. “Too many infected piling up at the fence. We’re pullin’ out in the morning, too.” I shut up and concentrated on eating while Porter regaled Porsche with stories about the things other refugees had brought with them. As he described a woman’s desperate attempt to justify her collection of vibrators as essential, I wanted to snap at him. Talking about other peoples’ hang ups was pointless. I wanted him gone from the table. Hell, the more I thought about it, the more pissed off I found that I really was. I wanted my vehicles back. I wanted my guns. Even being deprived of my sword felt like an insult. More than anything, I resented being locked inside this compound. With my stuff, I was more than capable of surviving outside on my own. I’d practically walked from the center of Springfield to my house near the edge of town, and made another fifteen miles on a bike. Forcing me to sit behind these walls and depend on the protection of someone else felt was demeaning.

Maya’s touch was like a bucket of cold water being poured over my head, and I was suddenly aware of my heart hammering beneath my ribs and the metallic tang of an adrenaline rush in my mouth. “Baby, are you okay?” she whispered to me. “You look like you want to rip someone’s head off.” I turned to look at her and felt my jaw unclench as I blinked and struggled to get my bearings.

“I did,” I said softly. “And this isn’t the first time I’ve felt that. I got the same feeling when I was locked up at MSU with Patient Zero.”

“Before Monday, I would have said that was impossible,” she said. “Today, not so much.”

“Corporal,” I said when Porter paused for a second to take a breath. “Could you do me a favor and go up on the wall to see how bad the infected are getting? It would really put my mind at ease.” Porsche looked my way, then bit her lip and smiled at Porter.

“Me, too,” she said. I chuckled at him as he agreed to it and hustled off. When he got to the wall and started looking east, another Marine in combat gear joined him, and they pointed at something. Moments later, another Marine joined them and brought a pair of binoculars up. I looked behind me to see other Marines starting to look to the south and west. Then Porter was leading another Marine with sergeant stripes toward the table and pointing me out.

“Sir, please come with me,” the sergeant said in a tone that meant it was not just a polite request, no matter how it sounded.

“You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?” Karl said without the usual contempt in his tone.

“Guess not. Gotta go to the principal’s office. I’ll be back,” I said. I looked to Maya and tried to tell her with my eyes what I wanted to say out loud:
be ready.
I followed the two men back into the office area I’d so recently left and found myself standing in the interrogation room, face to face with a major in combat gear with as much silver as black in his high and tight buzz cut.

“Stewart,” the major said in a tone usually reserved for ex-wives, butterbar lieutenants and other less desirable life forms. “How does a former wing-nut know what the infected are doing?” he demanded.

“Experience,” I told him. “I saw the DHS boys bugging out. Last time I saw them move that fast was when their base in Springfield was about to be overrun. And…you might find this hard to believe, major, but I think they brought something…
someone
with them. A kind of zombie that can attract other zombies, maybe even control them.”

“I do not believe this bullshit!” the major barked. “Sergeant, why in the hell are you wasting my time with this?”

“The number of infected on the eastern fence has nearly doubled, sir,” the sergeant said. “And they’re on all sides of the perimeter now.”

“How did we miss that shit?” he demanded. The sergeant’s reply was cut off when another man entered the room.

“Sir, the front gate just sent a runner,” the new man said breathlessly. “They’re reporting increasing numbers of infected.”

“Why didn’t they radio that shit in?” the major said with a look at me that said he clearly thought this was all my fault somehow.

“Radio trouble, sir.”

“Well isn’t that goddamn convenient? Alright, Klein, get the C-130s prepped to go ASAP. If those two confiscated trucks aren’t loaded up yet, leave ‘em. We’re evacing on the double. Porter, gear up and lead a squad to the building those Homeland assholes headquartered out of. If you find what Stewart says you will, I wanna know about it pronto. If you don’t, then you have my express permission to put your boot up his ass. Well, what’re ya waitin’ for? Move!”

All three Marines in the room called out “Oorah!” in unison and hustled out of the room, leaving me with the major.

“As for you, Stewart,” the major said gruffly. “I have never in my entire life wanted a man to be wrong as bad as I do right now. Now get the hell out of my sight and try not to stir up any more goddamn trouble.”

“No promises,” I said as I turned and left the room.

Chapter
14

Choices

Love is not a feeling of happiness. Love is a willingness to sacrifice.

~Michael Novak ~

As it turned out, one of the hardest things I had to do in the first days of the zombie apocalypse…was nothing. After almost two days of fighting, traveling and surviving, I discovered that I didn’t handle waiting very well. Add into that the constant low level irritation I’d been feeling since we’d arrived, and I wasn’t fit company for anyone I liked. Maya had left me be, and had slowly led the rest of the group to another table. People milled around in the compound’s yard in little groups, some quiet, some loud, and a couple making a nuisance of themselves. An upstanding looking young man in all the latest Patagonia outdoor wear was facing off with the Marines at the vehicle gate. Behind him, an equally upstanding looking woman in a designer blouse and high end pants and hiking boots was talking over him at the same time. As I watched, the man turned and yelled at his wife, then turned back to the three Marines he had been trying to shout into submission.

“That isn’t going to end well, is it?” Karl said as he sat on the table beside me.

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “Any second now, that high class young man is going to say the wrong thing, and he’s going to get a face full of pissed off Marine.” As if on cue, the man made a move and ended up on his hands and knees puking. As the well-dressed man threw up at the Marine’s boots, he stepped back. The woman with him retreated a few steps, looking suddenly less impressed with herself than she had been a few minutes before.

“That was…illuminating,” Karl said as the sergeant ordered another Marine to help the man up.

“You could say that. The absolute last serviceman or woman you want to get in a fistfight with is a Marine,” I said. Outside the compound, I could hear the sound of turboprop engines approaching.

“Duly noted. You know, there’s a compound like this one in Springfield. I had to settle on a workman’s comp claim for a construction worker who got hurt on the job there last year.” He sounded disgusted.

“
You
took a settlement? Maya said you
never
take settlements.”

“I never take a case I don’t think I can win at trial,” Karl corrected. “Settlements cut down on fees and hours billed, and I only got a percentage of a much smaller payout. When I took the case, I thought I was going to be facing off with FEMA or Department of Homeland Security. As it turned out, I ended up taking on Monos.”

“Monos Incorporated? The company that makes…well, everything?” I asked incredulously. “That must have been like David and Godzilla,” I joked.

“That’s an accurate analogy,” he said with a humorless smile. “The settlement was very generous, but given all the clauses they threw in, it had to be. Confidentiality, non-disparagement, even an indemnity clause. Hell, they even tried to make me sign a clause saying I’d never be a part of legal action against them again, but that happened after the settlement.”

“Was the place in Springfield exactly like this one?” I asked as a growing suspicion started to edge into my mind.

“I don’t know. I was never allowed inside. The only section my client saw was the one he worked on. But it looked a lot like this one on the outside, and it had the same kind of fences we saw when they brought us in. I wonder, though…how many more of these could there be?”

“How many regional processing centers are there?” I countered. “Does it seem to you like someone knew this was going to happen?”

“You were pretty well prepared,” Karl said.

“Most of that was Nate helping me along, but point taken. Still, Monos, the company that makes everything from seeds to pesticides to whole brands of foods is helping build places like this,” I said as I gestured to the thirty foot walls around us. “And guess where Monos moved their headquarters to three years ago. St Louis. Too many coincidences for my taste. Not that I can do much about it now.”

“It looks like we’re going to be able to find out for sure soon. Look, Dave, no matter what else happens I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done. I know we haven’t gotten along in the past. But the past couple of days, I’ve gotten the chance to get to know you better, and I think I misjudged you.” Karl sounded like he was working really hard to get those words out, and it earned him a lot of respect.

“Thanks, Karl. I really ought to have said the same thing a couple of days ago. You put Amy first, in front of your own pride. It takes a hell of a man to do that. And if you ever mention this conversation in front of Maya, I will deny saying that completely.”

“Likewise,” he said with a nod. Another set of turboprops roared past, and I could hear the rise and fall in pitch that told me a plane was turning around. My guess was that the Corporal Porter had found exactly what I was afraid he would, and the evacuation was going even further ahead of schedule than the major said.

“Ladies and gentlemen, when your name is called, move to the exit and check in with the man there. Abrams, Jennifer.” A young woman in a blue dress raised her hand and started toward the smaller personnel door. Maya led the rest of our group over to us as the first few names were called off. I did a headcount of the civilians in the compound and came up with a little more than a hundred, and that was more a wild ass guess than anything. I’d flown on a C-130 Hercules into and out of Iraq, and I knew they could carry almost a hundred people if that was all they were carrying. Add in gear, and that number dropped by about a third. Seventy people, plus stuff, would make one C-130 pretty cramped. I had no idea how many Marines were here, either. The logistics was beginning to give me a headache.

Then the screams started outside, and things like logistics and reason went out the window. At first, there was the strange stillness as people tried to figure out what was going on. Then the first gunshots sounded, and panic erupted. Even ten people trying to get out a single door was a recipe for disaster before you added in zombies. Ten times that number was like a meat grinder. Even I wanted to get out of the compound, though I knew our best bet was to stay inside the walls. I tried yelling for Maya and Amy, but the screaming drowned my voice out so completely I couldn’t hear myself as I fought against the tide of bodies pushing me toward the narrow doorway. I caught a glimpse of Maya not ten feet away amid the throng, but it might as well have been ten miles between us for all that I could move against the crush of humanity around me. Then I saw Amy only a couple of feet away from me, and I reached out for her. Her hand closed around mine and I held on for dear life.

Suddenly, the pressure eased a little and she ended up in my arms. I would have gone down if it wasn’t for the hand that caught my belt and dragged me back upright. Craning my neck, I saw Karl behind me, one hand on my shoulder, the other supporting Amy. In front of us, I could see the main doors swinging open as the human stampede pushed against them. The force of the people behind us propelled us out into the grass, and then we were pressed sideways as the mob turned toward the planes. The rear ramp of the plane in front was down, and everyone raced for it. It was a miracle no one ran into one of the rear plane’s propellers. I looked toward the southern fence line and fought down a sense of panic as I saw the first group of ghouls racing toward us at the same time as I heard the engines of the front plane change pitch.

He’s about to take off!
I thought. I pointed at the rear plane and leaned that way, and Karl nodded, then let go of me to point over our heads at our destination. The mob was easier to move through going sideways than to fight its forward momentum, but we still had to struggle. Maya pulled Cassie free of the mass, and Porsche dragged Bryce free. They spared a look over their shoulders at us, but Karl waved them on as we fought our way toward the edge of the crowd. They sprinted toward the aft hatch of the second plane even as the first one started to surge forward. Its ramp had already started to come up, but people were still jumping on it until it pulled clear. Behind us, I could hear gunfire, but I didn’t dare look. We were still fifty yards from the last plane, and we weren’t the only ones headed for it any more. Like a flock of birds, the other twenty or so people turned as one and ran for the plane. Porsche shoved Bryce through the hatch, then turned and helped Maya get Cassie inside. For a moment, it looked like Maya was going to wait, but Porsche shoved her forward, too. With a look at me, she jumped in behind her. My feet pounded against the concrete of the runway.

Thirty yards left to go, and the plane started to pull forward as more and more people tried to get through the hatch. Porsche’s face appeared in the door and she started pulling people on board.

Twenty yards away, and the plane was picking up speed, but I was still gaining. I grabbed Amy’s hand and tried to make my feet go faster.

Ten yards, and we were keeping up with it.

Eight yards as I put on a final burst of speed, then it started to pull away. Maya’s face appeared at the hatch, and she reached back for us, her face a mask of anguish as the plane gathered speed. Porsche and Cassie pulled her back in as the distance started to open between us and the door started to close. Then, as hope began to fade, something dropped from the hatch and tumbled along the tarmac. I slowed to a stop as the transport’s nose came up, then the big bird’s body lifted into the air.

“Mooooommm!” I finally heard Amy scream. I turned to look over my shoulder to see Karl jogging up behind us. Yards behind him a group four of Marines were trotting along. One stopped and turned, then fired a burst into the group of infected that were running toward them. Three ghouls dropped, but the zombies just kept moving. The Marine turned and sprinted forward, and as he passed the last man in the line, that man turned and did the same thing. Two more ghouls hit the pavement, and he turned and sprinted forward.

“Come on, pumpkin,” Karl panted as he gathered Amy up. “No time to cry. Need to keep moving.” Sweat poured down his face, and it took everything he had to speak, but he pulled her forward, and she followed, sniffling and sobbing. I picked my feet up as well. The Marines were headed for somewhere specific, and they had a plan. More importantly, they were armed. We stumbled along, trying to keep pace with them, and one of them pointed at something ahead of them as they passed us. Hope flared in my heart again as I saw their destination: three Blackhawk’s, waiting about three hundred yards away, their rotors already turning. Marines were running toward them from the airport’s main terminal, some of them turning to fire behind them. Karl swerved away from us for a moment and grabbed something from the runway, then came jogging back with my bug-out cache tube slung over his shoulder. I risked a glance behind us, and decided not to do that again. Behind us, hell, all around us, zombies and ghouls were closing in. As Karl fell back in with Amy and me, one of the Blackhawks lifted into the air, and a handful of Marines ran to the next one in the line. Moments later, it lifted off. By now, we were only yards away, and my lungs were burning. My legs felt like lead, and my throat felt like I’d swallowed hot coals. Several Marines were already on board, and the rear of the chopper started to look crowded. I pulled Amy forward, suddenly afraid they were going to take off without us. Hands reached out for us and I pushed Amy into them. There was barely enough room for Karl and me to perch on the edge of the rear deck, but camo clad arms reached out and linked with ours, holding us as secure as they could. Someone shouted to the pilot, and the Blackhawk’s engine revved as it rose into the air. Below us, the dead converged, and we left them reaching up for us. I breathed a sigh of relief as the chopper’s engines whined, then caught it as we started to slide sidewise.

“We’re too heavy!” one of the Marines yelled, his voice barely audible over the noise of the engine and the rotors. “We have to dump some weight!” I looked over my shoulder at Amy, then at Karl, and we both knew what had to be done. I pushed against someone’s shoulder and struggled to get to my feet, only to find Karl pushing me back.

“Don’t be stupid!” I yelled at him as the chopper started to lose altitude. “You’re her father. She needs you!” He pulled the cache tube off his shoulder and pushed it against me.

“You’re her best chance to survive!” he screamed back at me. “Now swallow your goddamn pride and take care of my little girl!”

“Daddy, no!” Amy screamed as he reached out and put his hand to her face for a moment. She clutched at his hand, her knuckles white as she tried to hang on to her father. He leaned back, and I watched as his weight slowly pulled her arms straight, then his fingertips slipped free of hers, and he fell. Time stretched out around me as he dropped, seeming to fall forever toward the sea of the dead below us. Then, he disappeared into the horde, and I was left holding Amy as she sobbed against me.