Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation (10 page)

“Will
do. Mary, get on the radio and tell Xavier to pick Lizzy up. I want her back
immediately. The others can drive. I expect them before nightfall.”

“I
should have gone on the offensive sooner,” admitted Captain Briggs. I was the
only one standing close enough to hear the words. “Just so you know, a large
part was due to the possibility of receiving help from the islands.”

“Any
chance of that?” I asked.

It was
an appealing notion, and I much preferred mopping the floor with the raiders
than facing them in what might ultimately prove a costly affair.

He
motioned for me to walk with him. Mary kept a distance, realizing this was not
a conversation to be shared. The twins took up flanking positions.

“There’s
been three more nuclear blasts, all in Asia. These hit Chinese cities, each
with unusually large numbers of zombies. The warheads were carried by short
range missiles.”

“The
Chinese have some surviving military that’s trying to get rid of the dead? I
find that hard to believe. Nuking your own territory seems like a really bad
idea. Clearing a few hundred thousand, even a million or so, can’t be better
than the radiation. The Swiss have been saying how much damage was caused by
the reactors in France going critical. Wouldn’t this be worse?”

“How bad
it is depends on quite a few factors. Either way, we don’t know if it was the
Chinese or a third party. There have been attempts to communicate, but we’ve
heard nothing so far.”

“What
about the others?” I asked.

“Russia
seems strong. The Japanese on Okinawa too. The Europeans are still relocating to
Ireland, but they’ll be leaving a few outposts to keep an eye out. The Brits
have recovered the last of their nuclear weapons. We think some are going with
them, others might be deployed. They have aircraft that can deliver and several
small destroyers that are still in operation, a single sub too. It’s hard to
say. The diplomats are still talking, and I’m not in the loop on everything.”

“Israel?”

“Same as
before. They are fortifying and manufacturing weapons as quickly as they can.
They haven’t been clearing zombies, but that’s likely because they provide a
defense on the off chance someone attempts an invasion.”

“Is
there anyone who could do that? Or would want to?”

“Not
that I know of,” said the captain. “The dead can’t get over the walls, so their
cities and fields are safe, which might make them a tempting target. I can say
that we’ve recently picked up radio transmissions from areas thought devoid of
life. It seems many of the survivors previously in hiding are becoming active. Having
constructed their own defenses, they now have the time to deal with other
issues.”

“Sort of
like us,” I acknowledged. “We got situated and fortified our homes to the point
that zombies weren’t the worry they used to be.”

“Same or
similar. They also copied you and the raiders in looting military equipment.”

“But
nukes?”

That was
far beyond normal scavenging, and there couldn’t be too many people left with
the technical knowhow to make use of them.

“All of
our weapons are under the government’s control.” Captain Briggs stared me in
the eye. “All of them. We made that an early priority. Each one is accounted
for and secured, even those that weren’t moved to the islands. Russia claims
they did the same. Israel still refuses to admit they have any. The British,
like I said, seem to have gotten theirs in order. The other true nuclear
powers, namely France, China, Pakistan, and India, are the wildcards, maybe
North Korea as well.”

“So,
what you’re saying is that with the other side of the planet still setting off
nuclear weapons and a lot of these unaccounted for, there is no way we are
going to get any help.” It was not a question.

“We currently
have some five thousand people overseas trying to figure it out, meaning almost
our entire military bolstered by plenty of volunteers. The government can’t
help us, aside from blanket bombing the area, which was voted down by the
civilian leadership here in Yellowstone. We’re on our own.”

*
* *

I left
Lizzy in charge the following morning and took a short helicopter ride to the
village Captain Briggs had mentioned. Approximately fifty people were in
residence, and they’d cleared a few acres for farming. Beyond that and the
handful of large cabins, there wasn’t a whole lot to the place. Accompanying me
were Mary and the twins. You know, I am honestly beginning to think that I’ll
never again spend a single moment alone, not until the day I die.

“What’s
the name of this place?”

Mary did
a quick consult of her notepad. “Clarksville.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.
That’s what they named it.”

“It
there a last train coming?”

Her brow
furrowed. “Why would they have a train?”

I
laughed, thoroughly amused. “It’s a reference to some music from way before you
were born and far better than the crap you listen to.”

“There’s
nothing wrong with my music.”

Mary was
indignant at the mere suggestion.

“Just
keep telling yourself that.”

I
stepped past her toward the approaching crowd. Xavier had already taken off. He
would do some scouting and be back for us later in the afternoon.

“How
come our town doesn’t have a name?”

That was
a very good question. We’d been there for quite a while and still referred to
it as the town or valley. For that matter, we hadn’t named any of the secondary
valleys where those tending animals or growing crops lived. They were just
numbers on a map.

“I’m
going to blame Briana, since she’s not here to argue.”

*
* *

“Mary is
happy.”

“That
she is, Tara.”

My daughter
was sitting on a split rail fence with another teenager. He looked to be close
to her age, somewhere just shy of six feet, athletic build, with hair every bit
as blonde as hers. I think this was the first time she had ever shown a
possible romantic interest in anyone. Maybe the row of decapitated heads had
the girl wondering if she shouldn’t squeeze in as much as she could before
something bad happened. I hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Dale, give
it up,” I called, waving him over.

The
twins had been taking turns examining and cleaning the villagers’ guns. Most
were in perfect working order, but they’d dismantled a few, using the parts to
repair others. It was a process they were well practiced at, but once the high
end devices were checked I decided to put an end to it. There was no need for
Dale to waste his time on revolvers and small caliber semi-automatics that were
rarely used.

Following
Tara’s brother was the mayor of Clarksville. He had a rifle slung over one
shoulder – almost everyone was carrying – and a small cask under the opposite
arm.

“Have
some homemade cider if you’re interested.”

I
brightened. “Absolutely.”

Four
cups were set on the table, and he began to pour.

“Do you
think we are going to need the training you gave us today?”

“I hope
not,” I replied. “Based on your location, you probably won’t see any raiders
unless they get through your own militia and then us. A few might slip through
or around – and they do seem to be probing – which is why Captain Briggs asked
us to check this place out and try to get you better situated. Possible, but I
think it’s unlikely.”

He took
a sip of his drink before continuing. “We will have the trenches dug by
tomorrow night and some new fences in place to make it harder to get at us, and
we’re going to keep a couple people on watch at all times, probably on the
rooftops.”

“Keep
the short range radio handy too,” I advised. “We’ll let you know if they’re
breaking through. If that happens, get most of the people out and running. You
may or may not want to leave a few fighters behind. That will depend a lot on
the actual situation. I might fall back to this spot if I have to. Again, I
don’t think that’ll happen. It’s more likely we would move into the roughest
terrain we can find, make it hard for them to reach us.”

I fully expected
our side to win. Those bastards needed to be put down for good, and we were
ready to do just that.

“Are you
sure you don’t want us to set up an infirmary?”

“No,” I
said. “Any injured we evacuate will be going to the center of the park where
your big hospital is.”

Big is a
relative term, and with a total population of a thousand, the facility was
actually quite small. It was similar to the hospital we’d built in the Black
Hills. There were a dozen beds, two exam rooms, and a single large operating
room that could hold up to three tables so several could be treated simultaneously.
If you remember old episodes of
M*A*S*H
, you’ll understand what I’m
talking about.

“Dad,
this is Michael.” Mary joined us with the youth in tow, taking a quick sniff of
my drink before finishing it off.

“Nice to
meet you, sir.”

I tried
not to wince. Such formality worried me. It was the way a man behaved when
meeting his girlfriend’s parents for the first time. Then again, they’d only
met a few hours earlier. I should be safe. Perhaps he was simply polite.

“Good to
meet you too.”

“He
wants to join our militia,” said Mary, “because it’s so much better than the
Yellowstone militia.” She smirked. “We have prettier uniforms.”

“Wait a
second,” interrupted the mayor. “Michael, does your uncle know about this?”

“Not yet,
sir, but he won’t mind. You know he wanted me to join from the start. You see…”
He turned to me and Mary. “…the captain put the minimum age at seventeen, and
I’m not quite there.”

“Captain
Briggs is going to be mightily upset if Jacob takes you in spite of that rule.”

“He
won’t care,” I remarked, “or if he does, he won’t make a fuss of it. Mary isn’t
the only sixteen year old we have. Got a few fifteen years olds too, which is
our minimum age, but they got left behind.”

“That’s
because they lack my maturity.” Mary elbowed Michael in the ribs when he failed
to laugh.

“And we
don’t have uniforms,” I added, “just regular camo, no insignia.”

“Well,
we should,” she stated, defiantly. “We would look good in green, or maybe
purple, maybe green with purple trim.”

“What do
you think, Mayor Brewster.” I’d managed to remember someone’s name, someone I
had just met. That might be a first.

“His
uncle did throw a fit when the captain refused to let him enlist. Old Carter
would be fighting too if not for a bum leg and severe arthritis in both hands.”

“I’ll
tell you what, Michael, if you can outshoot either Tara or Dale, just one of
them, not both, I will consider maybe, possibly, letting you tag along.”

“That is
so not fair!” shouted Mary.

“I’m a
good shot,” he said, hurriedly. “One of the best here.”

“Set up
some targets then.”

I tried
not to laugh, and shame on me for having so much fun. Obviously, the stories
about the twins hadn’t spread to this little haven. I never could have gotten
away with such a thing back home.

“This…”
Mary threw up both arms. “Arrrgh!”

Desiring
a break from the near constant labor, most of which was based on my
recommendations and likely those of Captain Briggs who had come through a while
back, the locals lined up to watch the contest. Several were placing wagers. It
seemed Dale and Michael were running even with Tara considered a long shot.

“You
show them what you can do,” ordered an elderly man with a cane. I’m guessing it
was Michael’s uncle.

“Ten
shots each at the target, open sights. You have three minutes to fire them off.
Michael can go first, then Dale, and finally Tara. You get to brace the rifle
on the table too. If you shoot through your own bullet hole, that’ll be
considered a miss, since there’d be no way to tell otherwise. That’s how Patton
lost in the Olympics back in 1912.”

I
received some blank stares. The state of education nowadays. Frightful.

“I’ll
handle the stop watch,” I finished.

Michael
sat down first. He was armed with a standard 30-30. The twins were using my
hunting rifle, which I tended to cart around in case we saw dinner frolicking
in the forest. Their sniper rifles fired such large rounds that it would be
difficult to judge the results, and the odds of the paper tearing was a little
too great for my liking. Neither Tara nor Dale cared. They were the ones who
set my sights originally, so it wasn’t like they were unfamiliar with the
weapon.

“In case
you don’t know, the red dot is what you’re aiming for. You can start in five
seconds, four, three, two, one.”