Authors: James Cook
I wiped off the last of the shaving cream, rinsed my face with a handful of water, and dried off with the same towel I had taken from the showers outside. After putting my shirt back on, I walked back to the common area. Ethan had put his rifle back together, and worked the charging handle a few times to make sure it operated smoothly. I didn’t see Andrea, and figured that she must be inside the shack with the baby. Emily and Justin were busy painting a beach themed mural on the side of their little shelter. I took a seat beside where Ethan sat cross-legged on the floor.
“How do you like your new toy?” I asked.
Ethan hefted the rifle and peered down the barrel.
“This thing is fucking sweet. I’ve wanted one since I first heard about them, but they were too expensive. EMT’s don’t make that much money.”
“Is that what you did before the outbreak?” I asked.
Ethan nodded. “That’s how I met Andrea. She was an ER nurse at Presbyterian Hospital. Bill worked there too.”
“What did he do?”
“Heart surgeon. Guy was fucking loaded too. Had a patent on some kind of heart pill that made a gazillion dollars.” Ethan turned to me and winked. “I believe you met his daughter just a little bit ago.”
“Yeah, she already let me in on that one.” I smiled as I thought of her. Ethan looked a bit crestfallen.
“Oh. Damn it all, I wanted to see the look on your face when you found out.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “Life is full of little disappointments.”
Ethan chuckled and spent a few more moments admiring his rifle. Three magazines lay on the ground next to him beside a pile of .223 cartridges. By their length, I could tell that they were thirty round mags. That gave Ethan ninety rounds close at hand, if needed. Ethan noticed me looking and gestured at my truck.
“After Andrea and I finished with our, ah, festivities last night, I took a look in the bed of your truck. That’s some serious hardware you’ve got there.” He looked up at me expectantly.
“So you snooped around in my shit while I was passed out drunk?” I gave him a hard stare. If he noticed, he did a good job of hiding it.
“Call it due diligence. You are a stranger here, after all.” He said.
I felt my temper begin to rise a bit. “Really? Is that a fact? After I save your ass, and you invite me over for dinner, and your wife tells me how grateful she is that I saved your life, and your friends thank me for helping you, and I meet your little boy, after all that, I’m a fucking stranger here. Good to know.”
A few people passing nearby stopped to look at us. I ignored them as I stared Ethan down. After a moment, he looked away, his jaw working as he nodded.
“I suppose I deserved that. Look, I didn’t mean any offense. Not everybody here is as trusting as I am. I just had to check to make sure you weren’t going to put the community at risk. I have a responsibility to these people.”
He looked back up at me, his expression pleading and resolute at the same time. I felt my anger begin to subside.
“You know Ethan, you really shouldn’t play poker. Ever. You wear your heart on your face every time you talk.”
I broke into a smile as I said it, and the tension between us evaporated. Ethan laughed and shrugged.
“That might explain why Andrea always kicks my ass at cards.”
He picked up the rifle and slapped in a clip, then pulled back the charging handle and chambered a round. After double-checking to make sure the safety was on, he got up from the floor and sat down in the lawn chair next to me. He laid the rifle across his lap and ran one hand across the collapsible stock.
“What I brought in yesterday was a good score, but there are too many of those damn
things
out there. It won’t last. We need more ammo.” He glanced up at me, and I had a pretty good idea what he was thinking.
“Right. So after your whole John Wayne cowboy thing backfired, and you damn neat got yourself killed, you started thinking and recognized the giant, gaping holes in your plan. A strong willed guy like you doesn’t let a silly little thing like almost getting killed keep him down, so you come up with a new plan. I’m guessing this is the part where you tell me how I fit in to it?” I said.
“Yeah, something like that.” Ethan gave me one of his damned infectious grins.
I figured the conversation could go one of two ways. I could agree, and most likely wind up risking my life again, or I could refuse to help, get in my truck, and drive away. I knew beyond doubt that the latter path would lead to me feeling like a cold-hearted bastard, and forever wondering what became of the poor folks at the abandoned factory just north of Alexis. Right as I was thinking that, Stacy walked by with a basket of laundry and winked at me as she passed. She had a thin sheen of sweat on her tanned skin, and her hair was slightly mussed. She looked good enough to eat.
Never underestimate the power of the male libido when it comes to influencing decisions.
“Well shit.” I said, heaving a frustrated sigh. “In for a penny, in for a pound. What’s your plan, big guy?”
Ethan’s grin broadened, and he set the rifle on the ground beside him.
“How about we start by you telling me what I did wrong?” He said, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him.
“Well, for starters, you went out alone. Never take those things on by yourself if you can help it.” I replied.
Ethan nodded and gestured for me to continue.
“Second, you didn’t bring enough firepower. Hatchets are good for chopping down saplings, not fighting revenants.”
Ethan’s expression became quizzical.
“Revenants?” He asked.
“Yeah, it’s an old Latin word for the ghosts that come back to haunt the living, or something like that.”
Ethan raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Well, it sounds more scientific than ‘creeps’, I guess.”
“Anyway,” I continued, “you just don’t take on that many infected without some serious firepower at your disposal. You need something that fires a light round, and carries a high capacity magazine.”
Ethan picked up the SCAR with one massive arm and gave a cheesy, fake smile as he pointed at it.
“Done.” He said.
I shook my head and smiled in spite of myself.
“That’s a great weapon, but it’s loud. You need something quieter.”
“You mean like one of those two illegal HK 416’s in the back of your truck, with the illegal silencers on them?” He asked.
“Yes, exactly like that.” My smile faded, and I glared at him in genuine irritation.
Ethan put the SCAR down, and held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help but notice. Not that the rule of law matters anymore. As much as I’d like to know how you got those things, I’m more concerned with how we can use them to help keep the people of this compound safe.”
“Well, like you said, there’s two of them. And I do have silencers for both.” I leaned forward, resting my chin in one hand as I pondered.
“Now just so you know,” I said, “the suppressors don’t get rid of all the noise from the shot. The action of the chamber is still audible, and the crack of the bullets is still pretty loud. It’s just not
as
loud as without the suppressor. It’s not like in the movies where a silenced gun makes a little science-fiction laser sound.”
Ethan nodded. “I figured as much. Those suppressors look like military grade equipment. What about the pistols? That Kel-Tec must be pretty quiet with that big-assed can on it.”
“How much of my shit did you search through?” I asked.
Ethan gave me a level stare. “Enough to know that you aren’t a threat to this compound, and that you must be one extraordinarily resourceful son of a bitch.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “My mother was a wonderful person, thank you very much.”
Ethan laughed. “Sorry, man. Just an expression.”
I dismissed the comment with a wave, and went back to considering what tactical advantages we might have against the undead.
“Did you notice the Sig Mosquito?” I asked.
“Yeah, I did. You got more than one of those?”
“No. Just the one. The Kel-Tec is louder, but not terribly so.”
“Alright, bearing all that in mind, what plan of action would you recommend so that we can get what we need from Alexis.”
I sat back in my chair and thought for a few moments.
“First thing we need is a diversion. Something to draw all the undead away from town long enough for us to do what we need to do.”
Ethan nodded. “Agreed. Stealth ain’t gonna cut it. There’s just too damn many of the things.”
“Right,” I said, “so we set up a diversion, then we get every available vehicle down to the gun shop shit-hot-quick, and load them up with as much gear as they can carry.”
Ethan sat back in his chair, frowning. “We have enough vehicles, and enough people to drive them, to get everything out in two, maybe three trips tops. The problem is keeping the undead away long enough to do it. Got any ideas on that front?” He asked.
I frowned and sat forward again. After a minute or two of mulling it over, I thought I might have an idea, but it would require help from the people of the compound.
“We need to get Bill onboard with this.” I said, making a gesture to encompass the warehouse around us. “We need him to rally these folks together. Otherwise, this plan is dead in the water.”
Ethan nodded. “I agree. Problem is, Bill will never agree to this if we don’t present him with some kind of a reasonably workable plan. What kind of diversion did you have in mind?”
“You said the creeps can hear the trucks from a couple hundred yards away, right? What we do is use a few trucks to grab their attention, and get them to follow, then split up and divide the horde into smaller groups. We plot routes for each driver to follow so that they can double back and reach the compound without getting cornered.”
Ethan considered my plan for a moment, and slowly started nodding.
“You know what, I think that might just work.”
“Well it’s settled then.” I said. “Now all we have to do is get Bill on board.”
“Get Bill on board with what?”
Ethan and I both jumped a little, and I turned to see Stacy standing behind us with her hands on her hips.
“Ethan, what kind of shenanigans are you up to now?” She said.
“No shenanigans, I promise. This time we have a real plan.” He replied.
“What do you mean ‘we’? Did you sucker Eric here into going along with you?”
“Actually,” I said, “he didn’t sucker me into anything. It’s my plan.”
“Oh. Well, in that case, let’s hear what you got.” Stacy pulled up a chair and sat down next to me, close enough to be somewhat distracting.
Ethan frowned at her, but stayed quiet. I explained my plan to Stacy.
“That actually sounds like it might work.” She said. “We just have to get a few other folks to buy in on it. How many people do you figure we’ll need?”
“Three to run the distraction, two to take care of any stragglers, and as many as can be mustered to ferry gear back from the store.” I said.
“I can probably convince Earl and Justin to help me pull off the diversion.” Ethan said. “Cody and Stan can handle any undead that don’t wander off. I’m pretty sure they won’t be too hard to get on board. If Bill agrees to help us, a lot of people will most likely volunteer to drive the moving trucks.”
“Well, looks like we need to find Bill and see what he thinks.” I said.
Stacy stood up and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Leave that one to me. I’ll send him by when he gets off watch. In the meantime, I have laundry to do.”
Stacy walked away, and Ethan got up to go get a map. He came back a minute later, and we spent an hour or so pouring over the map, plotting routes for the diversion drivers to follow. Right as we finalized what roads the drivers would take, Andrea stepped out of the front door of her little home with Aiden riding along on one hip.