Read THEM (Book 0): Invasion Online
Authors: M.D. Massey
Tags: #Post-Apocalyptic | Zombies | Vampires
I clambered up on the tanker and began checking the fuel levels using the access ports on top. There were four separate tanks from what I could tell, and the first two I opened were too low for the hose to reach. I struck gold on the third tank; it was almost full. It took a few minutes to siphon enough gas to fill each can, then I had to walk back to the truck and empty them in the tank. I did this another time, topping the truck off, then I went back with that can a third time to fill it once more.
Just as I was putting the cap back on the can, I heard Rayden holler at me from the truck. “Um, I think you’re going to want to see this!”
“Hang on, I’m coming,” I called back.
“Yeah, well, I think you’d better hurry. I mean hurry, hurry. I mean like get your ass over here right now, man!”
I stood up and looked over where the kid was looking. There was a herd of about a dozen or so of them coming out of the trees from the direction of Kerrville. What made them wander out this way was anyone’s guess, but I suspected they’d been in pursuit of someone on foot who decided to take their chances in the sticks instead of staying in town. Probably the sound of my exhaust had attracted them to us.
They were moving pretty slow, and fact was we had plenty of time to load up and get away. Still, I thought this might be a good time to let the kid get used to killing these things. It was tough love, but it might have saved his life later.
“I’m still trying to fill up this can!” I hollered from the top of the tanker. “You have the rifle, so start taking them out to give us some more time while I finish up!” I feigned urgency but really I wasn’t all that concerned. I didn’t see any fast ones in the bunch, and in my experience you could dodge these things on foot without breaking a sweat. I fiddled with the siphon hose and waited to see what he would do.
The crack of the rifle sounded off, and I saw one drop out of my peripheral vision. Turned out the kid was a decent shot after all. He fired again nine more times, and seven of those nine times resulted in stopping a deader in their tracks. Their second death, I supposed. Whatever. All I knew was that I could rely on the kid in a pinch, and that’s what mattered. I gathered up the siphon hose and can, snapped the lid back down on the tank in case we needed to come back for more later, and moseyed on over to the truck.
“Is that all of them?” I asked as I placed the can and siphon hose in the bed of the truck.
He nodded, and kept scanning the area. “I think so. I see some movement way out there, but I think we have time. Don’t want to waste anymore ammo.”
“Alright, good job, kid. Come on down and let’s get out of here.” He climbed down and handed me the rifle, and I pulled the magazine and popped in a fresh one before I hopped in the driver’s seat. I looked over at Rayden as he climbed in, and could see he was a bit conflicted about what had just happened. “Those the first ones you killed?”
“Yeah. It felt kind of weird, you know? I mean, I know they’re not alive anymore—I seen one of Cody’s guys come back, so I know they’re dead—but it still made me a little queasy.”
“Well, that just means you’re human. And frankly, I don’t know what causes those things to come back from the dead, and I don’t know whether or not they remember anything or if they’re even remotely human. What I do know is that it’s them or us, so you can rest easy knowing you did well.”
The kid kind of blushed at what I said. I figured he didn’t know how to take praise, which was to be expected. I acted like I didn’t notice, and took off down the road for Fredericksburg and whatever awaited us there. For the next few miles Rayden just stared out the window at nothing. Guess there wasn’t anything else to be said about it. Killing’s never easy for a sane person, even when the things you’re killing are already dead. He’d get used to it, or he’d be dead soon as well, and nothing else I could say would make it any easier.
NINE
REGIMENT
AS WE CAME INTO FREDERICKSBURG, we got a helluva surprise. Just before the airport, the road was blocked by several metal storage containers that were placed end to end across the asphalt. They stretched from the fenceline on one side to the fenceline on the other, with a gap between the middle two that was just big enough for a large truck to pull through. That gap appeared to be blocked by a moving truck that someone had welded to a cattle gate, so the gate blocked the space between the bumper and the ground.
On top of the shipping containers they’d stacked sandbags six feet high, and I immediately noticed that shooting ports were built into the wall on either side. I couldn’t see if anyone had a bead on us, but I assumed they did. I slowed down to see whether the folks who put it up might be friendlies or hostiles, then heard someone shout at us over a loudspeaker from the direction of the road block.
“This is Lieutenant Thomas Wheeler of the Texas National Guard! We have snipers targeting your vehicle, and they will disable your vehicle should you try to flee. You are commanded to drive your vehicle up to the blockade and park, then follow our instructions to the letter. Any deviation from these instructions will be interpreted as a hostile action, and deadly force will be used. Please proceed forward at no greater than five miles an hour, park, and await instructions.”
“Well shit,” I declared to no one in particular. They could have been bluffing, but I didn’t feel like risking getting my engine block blown to hell. Not to mention getting our asses shot off to boot. I put the truck in gear and inched up to the road block.
The kid looked at me with contempt. “Aw man, you’re actually listening to this guy? How do you know they’re not going to shoot us and take all our stuff? Haven’t you ever watched any of the
Road Warrior
movies?”
I kept my eyes on the makeshift wall and gate ahead as I responded to his comments. “I am, I don’t, and I have, every last one, even that last shitty one that had no plot. Fact is, if they do have snipers on us we’d be shot before we turned the truck around. Best that we take our chances here and see what is what. Besides, aren’t you even a little curious to find out if the Guard or other branches of the military are getting this mess under control?”
He shrugged. “I guess. But to me it looks like this is just another bunch of people who want to boss everyone else around for no good reason.”
“You’re probably right on the money with that observation, but let’s hope that these folks are on the up and up. Put your hands up where they can see them.” Rayden did as he was told, and as we pulled up to the gate, the guy with the bullhorn provided instructions for us to exit the vehicle with our hands in the open. As we did, the moving truck was pulled back a few meters, and two National Guardsman and a sheriff’s deputy came out from behind the roadblock with guns drawn. I noted that the cop had a Remington 870 pump, and the Guardsmen carried M4’s. The uniforms and gear loadout all looked legit, so I decided to keep playing along in the hopes of getting some decent intel.
The cop spoke first, which I thought was weird. But considering that the whole deal basically constituted using military force against civilians, I supposed it made sense that they’d try to give the impression that local law enforcement was still in charge. “Arms out to your sides, so we can search you.”
We did as instructed, and the soldiers walked up and searched us both. They took my Glock and my Bowie knife, but left me my combat folder. I guessed they were making small concessions to make it look like they weren’t really instituting martial law.
I was quickly tiring of the whole charade, so I decided to try to get some info and see if they’d release us. “Officer, we’re just passing through on our way to go get my parents.” I tilted my head at Rayden, “His grandparents, from Austin. We’ve seen a lot on the way here—”
“The way here from where?” The cop went into interrogation mode almost on cue, which I took as a bad sign.
“From around Leakey. My folks have a ranch out there.”
He grunted. “Leakey was overrun by the infected. Got a distress call from their dispatch ‘bout two weeks ago. Far as we know, none of them survived. So, either you’re lying, or you’re damned lucky.”
I did my best “aw shucks” routine to try to get him to relax and see us as no threat. “Lucky. I started driving to Leakey and saw a whole herd of those things coming up the road. So I turned around and headed north to 41. It was more or less clear sailing until we got to Kerrville.”
He looked distraught at the mention of Kerrville. “Yeah, Kerrville. Bad news, that. You see any survivors there?”
“A few, under the overpass on the I-10 east of town. We didn’t stop; I have the boy’s safety to think of, you know.”
The officer gave me a look that said I was chickenshit, then caught himself. “Yeah, well. Can’t say I blame you. Folks are desperate. Heard talk of roving bands of looters, gangs burning homes, rape—you name it. Probably better off keeping to yourself, that’s for sure.” He hollered over to the soldiers, who were now searching through my truck. “What’d you find?”
“A rifle and a lot of ammo. Some camping gear, food, and water. The usual.” The soldiers held up my rifle and an ammo can to show the deputy.
He answered back to the soldiers. “Tag it and take it to HQ, along with his sidearms.” He turned back to us and waved in dismissal. “You two can relax.” He held out his hand to me, and I noticed that his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “My name’s Deputy Carson, and you’re fortunate to have stumbled on one of the only safe zones in the Texas Hill Country. The sheriff and the Guardsmen that the governor sent down here managed to secure a safe zone from the downtown area to the high school, which is where we have most of the town safely sequestered.”
“Sequestered? I hope you don’t mind me asking, but you are intending to let us go on our way, right?” I tried to put as much obsequiousness into my words as I could muster, but frankly I was a little hacked off at the whole situation.
He held his hands up and smirked a little. “Now, now—I know how this looks, what with us taking your guns and all. But you can understand that we can’t have people walking around town armed, not with the way things are, and especially not strangers. Soon as the captain hears your story and decides you can go, I’m sure you’ll be on your way.” He turned to one of the soldiers. “Hey Rizzo, can you escort these two—” he glanced over at me. “What were your names again?”
“John Sullivan, and this is James, my son.”
The look on his face told me he wasn’t buying it, but that it wasn’t his problem, either. I didn’t have any ID on me anyway, so there’d be no way to check my story, not without a working computer system and Internet—which I somehow doubted they had. “Like I was saying, can you escort Mr. Sullivan and his son to HQ, and get them a hot meal before they see the commander?”
“Sure thing, deputy.” He gestured that we should follow him. “I’ll have to drive your vehicle, company commander’s orders. Kid can ride in the back.”
I decided to play along, since there were no other options at the moment and there was no way I was going to risk getting shot over nothing. As we pulled through the gate, I could see the LT who had hollered at us with the bullhorn on top of the wall, along with two guys in sniper’s nests hidden behind a wall of sandbags. Guess I’d made the right call.
The ride to the HQ, which turned out to be the high school, was short and uneventful. I tried to pump Rizzo for info on the way over, but he was tight-lipped on the situation. When we pulled up to the front of the high school he stopped my truck and told us to get out. “I’ll park your vehicle in the motor pool, and your keys will be stored securely along with your weapons and ammo. I’ll come back to have you sign for them, and you’ll get them back when the commander says you can leave.”
“How long do you think that’ll be?” I asked, with only a slight bit of concern in my voice.
“Oh, a day at most. Until then, just head through those doors and ask for Corporal Parker, she’ll get you squared away.” He started to drive off, and I tapped on the door to get him to stop.
“You mind if I get our stuff from the back?”
He waved me off. “Oh, you won’t need it. They have everything you’ll need. Cots, blankets, and food. And a place to take a hot shower, too. I imagine you two could use a bath, being on the road and all. So, enjoy it, and I’ll see you in a few.” He drove off without a wave or a howdy-do. Asshole.
I turned to Rayden. “Well kid, looks like we’re staying the night.”
He smirked, hacked up some snot from the back of his throat, and spat on the sidewalk. “Ya think?”
True to Rizzo’s word, Corporal Parker hooked us up with some hot food and a cot once we checked in at the makeshift HQ desk they’d set up. She was a short, stocky little country girl with light brown hair, freckles dotting her cheeks, and an upbeat country attitude that said, “Society might be breaking down all around us, but I’ve chosen to ignore it and pretend things are just peachy-keen!” She gave us our room assignment and then escorted us partway down the hall to the mess, where she sent us on our way with a perky smile, little to no eye contact, and a nervous wave goodbye. Suddenly, I felt
so
much better about our predicament.