LZR-1143 (Book 4): Desolation (49 page)

Slowly, we looped around the other side of the building until we stood again in front of the large barn doors facing the road. Seemingly the main entrance. Only a single other door—likely only emplaced to meet fire code—was visible from our circuit around the building, and it had been metal reinforced and sealed tightly.
 

These doors, on the other hand, were slightly ajar. It was inconsistent with the rest of the facility. The locked gates, the locked rear door, the collection of untouched and fully fueled machinery in the rear. It was as if someone locked up for the night and left, never to return. Except for the unlocked barn doors, with a sliver of darkness visible between the slats.

“Kate and I will take point,” I said, turning to Rhi before she pushed herself and Ethan forward. Even with his gimpy leg, they were the two most combat effective left in the group, with Reggie needed to protect the children.
 

“Now, we can pull our weight,” Rhi began but I held up a hand.
 

“Remember. Immune,” I said, raising my hand. “Not a huge risk. You on the other hand … one bite, one shitty sick day. We’ll clear fast. If you see any movement at all on that road—human or dead—you come inside. No matter what’s in here, it can’t be as bad as what’s coming down that road. And you,” I said, turning to Ky. “You stay with them at the entrance and be ready to back us up. Got it? We need you to stay put.”

To my great surprise, she simply nodded seriously, with no complaints. I grabbed her shoulder once and smiled as Rhi backed up slightly to take in the full height of the building, as if wondering whether it had unknown horrors to disclose.
 

“Yeah, all right. Copy that,” Rhi said, as Ethan nodded his head once.

“I’ve had enough of you voluntelling me to do shit. Let hero McFancyAss do his thing. I got no wish to end up one of those brainless shits,” Ethan muttered as we walked forward and pulled the doors slowly open, allowing the faint rays of the weak sun to pierce the cavernous space.

“Too late,” I heard her say with a grin, her voice quiet as they watched us enter. “You’re about as brainless as shit gets.”

***

Small specks of dust and ash floated in the single ray of sunlight that invaded the darkness. The doors creaked slightly as they spread just wide enough for us to squeeze by. I watched Kate’s lithe form move in the faint light and smiled again, happy to have her back at my side.
 

The large entrance was set in the center of the mill, with machinery and massive stacks of lumber spreading out to either side. The smells of earthy wood and mulch and the coppery smell of rust competed for dominance in the thick air, but I welcomed the bouquet—there was no indication of rot or death. If there were any zombies in here, there weren’t many.

Instead of splitting up, I took Kate’s hand and pulled her after me to the right, picking a side and choosing to stay together. She squeezed my hand once in affirmation, then drew her machete and mirrored me in allowing my carbine to rest on my chest. No noise with a herd so close. Sound discipline was more vital now than avoiding a bite.
 

We gained distance from the main doors slowly, scanning the resolving details of the cavernous space with our improving night vision and listening for the shuffling of feet that might herald an attack. Once we were far enough from the door that I was sure the sound wouldn’t carry much past the mill, I slowed and squatted next to a conveyor belt that seemed to run half the length of the building, stretching off into the darkness.
 

“What do you think?” I whispered to Kate as she kneeled down next to me.
 

“Time to make some noise?” she asked, completing my thought.

“Bringing them to us is easier than looking around,” I said. “And I’m not interested in wasting a lot of time here.”
 

She smiled, and her face glowed with mischief.
 

“Me neither,” she said simply, then leaned over and pressed her lips firmly against mine, stealing a deep, passionate kiss as she suddenly rapped her machete against the steel support of the machinery behind us. The metal rang like a bell, once, twice, three times.
 

But the kiss lingered.

After several minutes, we rose and scanned the darkness. No noise, no movement.
 

Quickly, we jogged to the left, being careful to perform the same exercise with a shorter fuse—and absent the kissing, to my chagrin.
 

Still nothing.
 

Now sure that the main floor space was clear, we motioned for the group, bringing them into the shelter of the building before we fanned out and checked each smaller space.

The entire mill was laid out in a simple structure. Processing equipment, like the conveyors and machines that turned logs into boards, were grouped to the right of the main entrance. More cutting and refining equipment, for more accurate cuts, were to the left. Unseen from the outside was another set of doors at the very end of the building behind the lumber processing area, that opened out, but were so flush to the wall that they hadn’t been apparent from our circuit outside. We guessed that this mill was a local operation, designed to be a one-stop shop for local timber needs. There certainly was enough supply in these sprawling forests.

After five minutes of exploration, Reggie found a generator with a full tank of diesel. Eli joined him as they stared at the controls under a flashlight, puzzling over whether they could get it cranked up, and whether the battery was still any good.
 

Kate and I took Ky and made a quick but thorough sweep of the offices on the upper floor. A single staircase led from the mill workspace to a small second floor nearly three stories up. A huge window looking out onto the mill floor sat in the wall of a conference room with a whiteboard and a large wooden table and eight lonely chairs. This room allowed entrance into three small offices and a control room of sorts, with computers, monitors and an assortment of mechanical controls. Two storage closets off a small kitchen held a variety of wonderful supplies, including a bag of sugar, several large cans of coffee and creamer, and a collection of chips and crackers that had been intended for a vending machine, but instead had a hand-written note on the side, indicating that each bag was $1.50 on the ‘honor system’. On a whim, I tried the water faucet, wondering and hoping that the mill was on its own pump, and it had a small backup power source.

Water spurted from the pipe and into the drain, and Kate and Ky smiled as it poured out, like nectar of the gods.
 

We had power, water, a fence, and a parking lot full of heavy machinery. Finally, things were looking up.
 

***

Through the office level, there was also a small bank of windows that looked out toward the road, over the fence line and to the west. From our position on the hill, looking out, we could barely see the narrow outline of the Trans-Canada highway branching off to the northwest, disappearing into a line of trees far into the distance.
 

And from here, we could also clearly see the rolling tide of the dead. They had already reached the industrial and commercial area a mile to our west, and they were slowly moving through it, like ants on a picnic. Seemingly intent on a goal far to the east—likely attracted to the same noise and light of the volcanoes erupting behind us that had pulled the herd to us at the dam—we could only watch as they got closer to where we stood. I had yet to pull Kate aside for a full detail of their experiences—we had gotten only a few words in between meeting and securing the building, but I knew she had things to tell me. Her looks were alternately anxious and slightly haunted, sparing glances toward the children as she helped everyone inside.

I knew she had to be doubting whether we could continue this journey. Whether it made any sense to do so, given the circumstances: tsunamis, earthquakes, herds of the undead. But I also knew she ultimately would not be deterred. Not until she opened the door to her ex-husband’s apartment and found her daughter, alive or dead.
 

We hadn’t discussed how we were intending on locating her if she wasn’t home, especially in a city of three million, likely all dead now, even if it weren’t under water by now.
 

But those were details. Everything right now was big picture. It had to be.
 

There was nothing else for her.
 

Everyone was inside, now, and the main doors had been closed. No one could locate a lock large enough for them, however, which was a concern. There was no clear way to keep them locked shut. Although there was a mechanism there with two large holes on either side of the opening, they seemed to call for some sort of huge padlock, which was no where to be found.

So today we would be relying on silence.
 

The entire group was upstairs, enjoying chips in the conference room and talking softly, when the convoy arrived.
 

I supposed—in retrospect—it had been a pretty stupid move. But in our defense, we were mostly fixated on the storm of the undead that was barreling toward us and would arrive on our doorstep when we parked the vehicles.

But we should have known.
 

With an armed group trailing us, out there somewhere, we should have thought to hide the vehicles we stole from their former camp.
 

“Mother fucker,” Kate whispered, her face serious and drawn. She had been plastered to the window since we made camp in the building, eyes scanning the horizon. Now, her hands were clenched next to her sides as a group of women in various degrees of combat dress fanned out against the entrance, a humvee pulling right up to the gates as the remainder of the group took up support positions, alternately pointing toward and away from the fence.
 

Beyond them, the herd was massing, now starting to filter into the trees between the residential area and the road—no more than a half mile from where the convoy sat now. But that herd, that walking, devouring force of slavering nature, would not yet be visible to the convoy. It would still be hidden by the trees.
 

Much like a tsunami preparing to crest on shore that appears only as a slightly elevated horizon, there was not even a pullback of sea water to herald their coming. Only silence and time.
 

Slowly, I panned my head from left to right, marking the large transport vehicle, the two humvees with the turret-mounted fifty cals, and, most importantly, the young woman with a large, thick-barreled weapon held professionally against her shoulder, pointed at the gate.
 

A grenade launcher, unless I missed my guess. And if she took those gates down, our fortress became our tomb.
 

 
Even from this distance, it was clear that we were going to have to go speak with our visitors.
 

Suddenly, gunshots split the air. A single volley on full automatic, sounding like a jackhammer.
 

It was the fifty cal, and tracer rounds arced into the roof of the mill on the far end. Instinctively, everyone in the room dropped down as streaks of light shot through the ceiling on the other side of the building.
 

Instantly, I brought my head back to the window and looked past the convoy.
 

The herd had accelerated. And it was turning directly toward the gunshots.

“Those ass-sucking idiots!” Rhi yelled, stomping to the window. “They’re gonna bring that herd right to our door!”
 

“They can’t see them,” said Kate, cursing as she picked up her rifle. “They’re going to knock that gate down if we don’t come out. We have to go talk to them, now!” At that, she bolted from the room.
 

“Wait!” yelled Ethan, as Rhi and Ky also exclaimed loudly. “They’ll gun you down!”
 

“No, they won’t,” I heard Kate say softly as she bounded down the steps and pulled the large doors open again.
 

All I could do was follow, after speaking briefly to Ethan and Rhi and watching them instantly disburse.
 

This could get interesting really quickly.
 

***

It wasn’t far from my mind that we had less than five minutes to resolve this before the herd would come boiling out of those woods beyond the road. Even now, I expected the first of them to arrive, which would destroy our blessed anonymity and leave us trapped inside the fences in perpetuity.
 

Kate barreled forward, heedless of the armed women outside. Her rifle was slung over her back, and her eyes flashed with anger as we approached the gates. I stared over the group’s shoulder for signs of the approaching herd, but we were down the hill now, our vantage point gone. It was doubly eerie now that I knew they were there, but could see nothing. Only a vague smell of rot and decay that blew in alternating gusts of wind from the west.
 

A vaguely attractive woman with a severe face and short brown hair pushed her way to the front of the pack of soldiers, no weapon in her arms but her hand resting lightly on her sidearm, almost as if she only needed the comfort of knowing it was there. An athletic build underneath an Army uniform with Captain’s bars gave her away as the leader of the group.
 

“Captain,” said Kate, her voice barely under control as she neared the gate. Several rifles were pointed her direction and, I noted with some chagrin, the remainder were pointed directly at yours truly. As if I represented the truest possible threat to peace, love and democracy.
 

“Kate.” The soldier’s response was cold and monotone, although a humorless smile slid into place across her thin lips.

“We didn’t think we’d find you this far so quickly, but I guess you proved your resourcefulness. Looping back around us for the trucks—that was pretty clever. Although I must say, impressively fast. I’m not sure how you pulled it off, but … I guess it must be the meth.” Her face twisted again in a grin that lacked any notion of sincerity.