Read Zompoc Survivor: Inferno Online

Authors: Ben S Reeder

Zompoc Survivor: Inferno (9 page)

“Do you see anything?” Kaplan asked. I leaned closer and reached out to pull the door open. As my hand closed on the handle a pale hand slammed into the glass from the other side. I barely had time to jump back as the display case fell through the glass door and knocked me to the ground. My pistol went flying as the display fell on my legs. All I could see in front of me was flashes of light as Kaplan’s MP5 barked. In the surreal strobing of gunfire, I could see a man crawling over the rack that had fallen on me, his teeth bared as he scrambled toward me. The smell of beer flooded my nostrils as I thrust my left hand forward and found my palm hitting flesh. The sound of teeth clacking together reached my ears as I groped for my Colt and found my right arm unable to bend far enough to get to the holster on that side. My fingertips grazed something else solid, though. I pulled my hand up, thankful for the heavy plastic vambraces as I felt the softer flesh of the zombie’s throat under my gloved hand. Praying my grip didn’t slip, I pulled the last ZT Spike from my belt and aimed for where I hoped the zombie’s head was. I felt the grate of metal on bone as the first blow hit, and I pulled my right arm back as I tilted my left hand up to hook my thumb and forefinger under the thing’s jaw. With the corner of its jaw as a reference, I stabbed with my right hand again, knowing that if I came up an inch short, I was likely to take my own thumb off. The blade sank in a couple of inches before it hit bone. I pushed hard against it until my fist rammed up against its head, and the zombie on me jerked once before it went still.

Light hit me seconds later, and I heard Hernandez’s voice calling out.

“Yeah, I’m good!” I called out.

“Did you get it?” Kaplan asked as his flashlight beam bounced across the rack and the dead zombie.

“No, I think it bled out,” I remarked sarcastically as I pulled my legs out from under the rack. Hernandez was beside me and pulled me to my feet. “Of course I got it.”

“Aw, man, that is fuckin’ hard core,” she said as she played the light on her P90 on the zombie. Now that it wasn’t trying to tear my throat out, I could see the ZT Spike embedded in its left ear. Dressed in a dark t-shirt and jeans, all I could see of the zombie itself was dark hair and lacerated arms. “That’s two you ganked up close and personal. You don’t like guns or something?” I reached down and pulled the Spike free with a wet sound and wiped the blood off with its shirt before I sheathed it.

“Too violent,” I said as I retrieved the SOCOM.

“Looks like our boy had himself a little party,” Kaplan said as he pointed his light into the cooler. Empty beer bottles covered the floor, mostly clear forty ounce bargain brands.

“I ought to be pissed but I think he did the world a favor by getting rid of so much cheap beer,” I said.

“There’s nothing in there I’d drink,” Hernandez said.

“Well, if you two connoisseurs are done rating the wine list,” Kaplan said drily, “let’s get as much of the food as we can and find a phone book and some maps if we can.”

Kaplan and I grabbed a pair of plastic shopping baskets and started loading canned goods and anything else that was non-perishable off the half empty shelves, which ended up filling the four baskets we’d grabbed. Once we had the baskets as full as we could, we hit the back room. We had better luck there, coming up with a few mostly full boxes of canned and dry foods. Hernandez paused as she hefted the last can of coffee in the store, and for all we knew, in Missouri.

“Kinda weird,” she said thoughtfully. “Yesterday, this was just a can of coffee. Today, it’s gold.”

“And it’s a stove,” Kaplan said as he took the can from her and dropped it into the milk crate we had been filling. Between three adults and a teenager, I guessed we had found about ten days’ worth of food if we were careful. In the back of the store room, I found a case of bottled water on top of a blue ice chest. I set it on the floor and opened the ice chest, half afraid I’d find spoiled food or worse inside.

“Well, somebody was prepared for the end of the world,” I said as I looked inside. I pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels Black Label.

“Sweet,” Hernandez said from behind me.

“We can use it for trade,” Kaplan said as he took the bottle out of my hand and replaced it in the ice chest.

“Really?” I said with false innocence. “Because I thought it’d be really smart to get drunk off our asses and pass out tonight while we made a lot of noise.”

Kaplan ignored the barb and closed the lid on the cooler. “Grab the water, Stewart. Hernandez, help me with the ice chest.” We double timed it back across the road, with Amy carrying two of the shopping baskets. Once we’d dropped off the first load, we made our way back as fast as we could. While Kaplan and Hernandez grabbed the last two baskets and the milk crates from the back, I made my way behind the counter to grab the phonebook.

“Grab the last box on your way out,” Hernandez said from the door.

“Got it. I’m going to grab the city map from the manager’s office, too.”

“I’ll tell Lieutenant Tightass,” she said with a chuckle before she started across the parking lot. I headed for the manager’s office behind the cash registers and pulled the thumbtacks from the corners of the Kansas City map that was hung up behind the desk. Once I had it down, I laid it on the cluttered surface of the desk and worked to get it folded back up.

“Dave!” Amy called out as I was slipping the map into one of the vest pockets. There was a sense of urgency in her voice and I heard engines, so I hustled for the door. When I stepped out into the light, I was greeted by a dozen men in black shirts pointing guns at me from the back of three pickup trucks. Amy had her rifle up, but none of them seemed to be taking the .22 seriously. Ten to one odds do tend to give a man a sense of invulnerability.

“Lower your gun,” I told her as I raised my hands to show empty palms.

“What?” she said. “Why? What are you doing?”

“Xanatos speedchess,” I said softly. She glanced at me for a moment, then slowly brought the gun down.

“We got orders ta shoot looters,” one of the men in the truck drawled.

Journal of Maya Weiss

Thursday, October 17, 2013

I miss them. The only way I could even sleep last night was with Dave’s sweatshirt on and Amy’s bear in my arms. It was the only way I could keep from sleeping in the cab of the truck with the radio on. Between Lynch and the rest of the Marines, we didn’t have to pull watches.

Most of the other people with us and the Marines are crammed into a couple of Greyhound buses Lynch and his men brought back from Salina late last night. Seems like the bastard knew someone was going to try something stupid while he was gone. He didn’t seem surprised when I told him I’d shot Hodges. All he asked was “Did the sumbitch need shootin’?” Porsche answered that more enthusiastically than I could. Dave has a rule about guns. Actually he has several, but the gist of it is don’t point a gun at someone unless you’re ready to pull the trigger. It bothers me that I didn’t even think about it when I shot Hodges.

The sky behind us was red this morning, and I could see the smoke from Kansas City on the horizon. God, it’s hard to keep the truck pointed west. But I promised Dave I’d get Cassie and Bryce to Nate’s.

Chapter
5

 

Quandaries

~ Safety is something that happens between your ears, not something you hold in your hands ~Jeff Cooper~

 

“You shoulda seen the look on your face!” Mickey said between fits of laughter. The rest of the men around Amy and me were still laughing, and Mickey had tears running down his face from his own mirth. He towered over me, looking every inch the good ole boy in a black t-shirt with an American flag on the front. “God-
damn
! I thought that daughter of yours was gonna start shootin’!”

“Ya’ll didn’t look like the Army,” I said. “Well, not all of you.” That got a few laughs at the expense of the two men in camo jackets over their black t-shirts.

“Ya’ll sure as shit do,” Mickey said as he pointed at one of the trucks. “Them vests and your guns. I ain’t never seen a pistol like yours, but a buddy a’ mine was in the Marines, one of the fellas in his squad carried a rifle like yours. Called it some kind of marksman’s rifle.”

“Got ‘em off a couple of dead guys,” I said. As lies went, it was pretty damn good. Both of our vests actually had come from dead soldiers.

“Lotsa them around!” Mickey said, which started a whole new round of laughter.

“Damn straight,” I agreed. “Who are you guys, anyways?” I asked him.

“We’re the Disciples of the Anointed,” an even bigger man growled. Of all the men there, only he hadn’t joined in the laughter. He’d stayed by the cab of the lead truck, dressed in black from head to toe. The black button down shirt and black khakis he wore were the cleanest looking clothes I’d seen among this bunch, and while his black boots weren’t shiny, they also weren’t scuffed. The equally somber billed cap on his head seemed to be competing with his shirt and pants for the honor of the darkest shade of black possible. Light brown hair stuck out from under his cap and his broad face contorted into a grimace that made him look like he’d just eaten something sour. “The Chosen of God survived, and we’re bringing them to the Prophet to be judged. If he thinks you’re worthy, he’ll let you stay.”

“Who’s this Prophet?” I asked.

“His name used ta be Matt Hall,” Mickey said with a smile. “But when he talked ta God, he got a different name. His name’s Daniel now.” The big guy finally stepped away from his truck and stalked over to us as the sound of a diesel engine rumbled nearby. I was starting to get a bad feeling about the whole situation, not least because we were outnumbered and outgunned. The name Matt Hall was vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn’t place it. Worse yet, the men who’d captured us were starting to sound more and more like religious zealots, and that usually meant all manner of bad things. I had nothing against religion in moderation, but too much lent itself to very unpleasant things.

“Kneel,” the big guy ordered and put his hand on my shoulder. He pressed down hard, but I didn’t move. “I said-“ he started to say. When I went to one knee, he stopped, suddenly unsure of what to do.

“I heard you,” I said. Mickey and the big zealot exchanged a look, and I nodded at Amy. She copied my stance, taking one knee as a big military vehicle rolled up the street. I recognized it as a Stryker armored fighting vehicle. The eight wheeled behemoth rolled to a stop, and I got a good look at the man riding in the commander’s hatch. Blonde, square jawed and striking, he fit the bill for what you’d expect a prophet to look like if said prophet was chosen by Abercrombie & Fitch to spread the good news of perfect hair and flawless skin. He turned to face us after offering us a few seconds to gaze upon his profile. Dark sunglasses shielded us from the intensity of his eyes, or at least that was the impression he seemed to be trying to give as he looked us over. After a few moments he ducked down into the hatch and emerged from the rear of the vehicle flanked by two heavily armed men.

“Bless you for your vigilance, Caleb,” the prophet said in a gently accented voice that sounded like it belonged to a southern televangelist being played by Matthew McConaughey. The big guy nodded, and Hall turned to face me. “And the good Lord bless our meeting, Brother David. Please, stand up.”

“Have we met?” I asked as I straightened. No one had asked my name, and I hadn’t volunteered it.

“Not directly,” Hall said with a smile. “It’s by your fruits that I know you.” He put one hand around my shoulders and turned so that we were facing the Stryker.

“You’ve read my books?” I said.

“I’ve read your books, visited your website, listened to every podcast and interview you did since you put out Incident At Baqubah. The Lord opened your eyes to His message, like so many other prophets. ‘The End Times are comin,’ He said. And as Elisha said when they came into Samaria, I prayed to God to open the eyes of men that they might also see.” He gestured to the men around us and beamed at them with a broad smile that I could see dazzling in the eyes of his audience. “And the wise men did see the truth. They prepared themselves for His wrath, and when the first plague fell on the land, they heeded my call, and they came. In their numbers, they came.”

“You knew this was coming?” I said as my stomach tried to sink down to my toes. Of all the people to be a fan, I had to get a cult leader. Hall laughed and shook his head.

“No man knew the way nor the hour of the Tribulation,” he said as he led me toward the back of the Stryker. “All I knew was that we needed to be prepared. The Lord saw fit to prepare you, too. Brother Michael, continue your patrol. Caleb, come with me.” Mickey nodded and headed back for his truck while Caleb followed behind his prophet and me. We ducked into the troop area in the back and Hall gestured to the long bench along one side. I sat down and Amy planted herself beside me as Hall took his place across from us. He leaned back and crossed one foot over his knee, then gestured to Caleb at the rear hatch. The big man hit the controls and the ramp started to rise while he made his way forward.

“Nice car,” I said as I tried to relax a little.

“Very nice indeed,” he said as he eyed Amy. “Is this your daughter?”

“Yes, she is. Her name’s Amy,” I said before she could say anything. She nodded and smiled as Hall reached across the compartment and offered his hand. She put hers out and he took it in his, then bent his head over the back of her hand, his lips just grazing her knuckles.

“Pleased to meet you, darlin’,” he said, his voice deepening. “I am the Prophet Daniel. Perhaps you’re familiar with the story of my namesake?”

“He was carried off to Babylon and trained to be an adviser to the king. He was taught the ways of the Babylonians, but he kept his faith and interpreted the dreams of the king when no one else could.” As Amy spoke, Hall’s face lit up.

“Finally, a woman who’s been well trained,” he said. “She’s going to be a fine example for the other girls.”

“Other girls?” Amy and I asked in stereo.

“Oh, yes. Hundreds of men and women have answered my call. Not all of them were worthy of serving as Disciples, but all have a place among us.”

“Are we worthy?” Amy asked. Hall’s face clouded, and I saw his fist curl up, but his glance went to me and he smoothed that smile of his back into place.

“By your daddy’s efforts, you are. The Bible tells us that God helps those who help themselves, after all.” I barely kept my eyes from rolling at that. Most people believed that, but the truth was that it appeared nowhere in the Bible, instead being an ancient Greek phrase that had been made famous by Ben Franklin. As quickly as he’d turned his attention to Amy, he turned it back to me.

“Your books say you’re from Springfield. What brings you to Kansas City, Brother David?” he asked. He took his sunglasses off, and aimed his pale blue eyes at mine. Now things were getting serious.

“We were being evacuated to St. Louis, but we ended up here.” He looked at me for a moment, and then he turned the full force of his retina damaging smile on me.

“Ya’ll don’t trust me, do you?” he said with a laugh.

“I don’t know you,” I said evenly.

“We’re gonna change that, I promise you. By the time we’re done, you and I are going to be very well acquainted. I’ll lay it out for you, Dave. We saw a helicopter go down yesterday, looked military. We even heard its mini-gun goin’, too. And then here you are today. So, I gotta know, Dave…are ya’ll alone, or are there servants of Lucifer runnin’ loose in my city?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” I said, though I was pretty sure I did.

“Any man who swears an oath to a flag instead of pledging their hearts to God Almighty is a servant of Satan,” he said casually. “It’s my duty to give them the choice to repent and to swear themselves to the Lord in my name or die for serving false gods. Now, are there any soldiers in my city?”

“We landed on top of Truman Medical Center with a helicopter full of Marines,” I told him. “Not all of them made it out of the hospital with us. I have no idea where they are now.” He sat back again and regarded us for a moment, then nodded.

“I’m sure you’ll understand if the lack of trust goes both ways. A man doesn’t just give up the truth about his true strength, and a man alone would assure me that he had others nearby in case his host had a mind to harm him, while a man with friends nearby would want me to believe he was alone to protect his allies.” I looked away from him and blinked, trying to hide the smug look on my face. With any luck, he’d think I was giving something away.

“Believe what you want,” I said. “I’m telling the truth.”

“Time will tell. So, Amy, tell me about yourself…” For the rest of the ride, I let Amy carry the conversation. Hall’s eyes roamed up and down her body, and I balled my fist up and put my weight on my knuckles to keep from breaking his nose. She talked about nothing better than I could, from her favorite kind of dogs to horseback riding, to her Sunday School teacher’s tuna casserole. She was just covering the finer points of an incident involving a pineapple upside down cake one of the ladies at her church had brought to fellowship when the Stryker took a sharp left and then angled down.

“Where are we?” Amy asked as Hall lowered the ramp.

“New Eden,” Hall said with a smile as he led us out of the vehicle. The Stryker’s lights were shining on concrete floors and walls with yellow stripes and a stylized wheelchair. Several more vehicles, including at least two more Stykers and a handful of Humvees were parked along the wall. A few yards away two men with M4s and lanterns flanked a red door. “Home, for now.” He led us into a dimly lit stairwell and up four flights until we came out onto a carpeted floor. Long windows that went from waist height to the ceiling let in some light, showing us groups of people spread out on the floor, using desks and cubicle walls to partition off their own little slice of floor space. Hall took us to the window and looked up.

“Last I knew, Eden was more like a garden, and less like a bank,” I said. Outside, two tall buildings rose up, the one on the left engulfed in smoke and burning, the one on the right apparently untouched by the end of the world. A round structure squatted on top of it, and I could see a hotel logo on the side.

“It’s a work in progress,” Hall said. “One day I will stand atop my tower and look down on the New Eden we have created, a new paradise for the chosen of God. The Lord has shown me this in a vision. You could share in the bounty that He has promised me, Dave. A man of your talents could stand at my right hand, chronicle the history of my kingdom, and be well rewarded as my herald …provided you are pure and loyal.” Behind us, I could hear moans and low voices. More and more heads were popping up and looking at us, and not all of them looked real happy to see us.

“Pure?” Amy said.

“Yes, my dear,” Hall said as he turned away from the window. “Given your father’s books and website, I’m assured he has a strong enough spirit, but…a man can sully himself by mingling too much with lesser souls.”

“What about a woman?” I said as he moved along the window.

“Women are born as lesser souls, and they can only be redeemed by their husbands,” Hall said dismissively. “Of course, in the new world we’ll have to return to the old ways. Men will need many wives to ensure that Mankind survives.”

“And I suppose it’s an act of charity to marry a woman and ensure her salvation,” I said.

“That depends on the woman,” Hall said and laughed. “If she’s pretty enough, it’s an act of benevolence. If she isn’t, then it’s charity, and she’d better have some other talents to offer her husband.” That got a laugh from the men with us as well. Amy cast a quick glance over her shoulder at me, her eyes troubled. I smiled and gave her a wink, and she smiled wanly before turning back to Hall. My stomach turned at the gesture, but we were at their mercy for the moment and in their good graces. Until I had a way to get us out, playing along was my best choice. Best being loosely defined as the only one I had.

“We need to check you for bites,” Caleb said as a man and a woman came up. The man was in brown coveralls while the woman wore blue.

“Can we have a little privacy?” Amy asked.

“That’s a luxury we can’t afford,” Hall said. “The safety of my flock comes first and foremost.” The two new arrivals exchanged a puzzled look and I saw smiles start to spread on the faces of the men with us. Hall was lying through his teeth so he could ogle Amy. I took my shirt off and started undoing my pants. A few seconds later, every man’s eyes were glued to Amy, and I was struggling to keep my knee out of Hall’s crotch. When I kicked my shoes and socks off, I remembered the bruise on my right ankle.

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