Six Feet From Hell: Unity: 6FFH Book #5 (15 page)

Maybe
.

CHAPTER
15

April 18, 2022 – 1415 Hours

Larry would have given his left nut for a flashlight. It was impossibly dark in the bowels of the jail. He couldn’t see anything and, excluding the occasional muffled pop of gunfire outside and the footfalls of Balboa and Kody; he couldn’t hear anything, either. Step by step, scanning back and forth, he watched each corridor and hallway, praying that Joe was wrong. The notion that something had broken loose from within the wall wasn’t out of the question; it had happened before with limited interruption to daily life, but this one felt different.

Nearly
three months before Joe and his crew had arrived one of the workers outside town had been bitten. He didn’t tell anyone of the event, and less than an hour later, he was dead. Thankfully, he fell asleep in his room at the motel, locking the door before he did. He knew what was going to happen, and took necessary measures to ensure that he didn’t escape once he turned. The next morning, Larry and Cornbread checked the room after someone reported that something was banging around in the room, making a lot of unnecessary racket. Larry used the duplicate key for the room to unlock it, and Cornbread grabbed the freshly turned zombie, tossed him onto the asphalt, and ended him with twelve-gauge judgment. A hairy situation, but nothing like what was going on outside the walls of the jail.

Joe
was rounding up stragglers along the way to the jail, grabbing the few people that he saw on the move. Word had gotten out the jail was the rally point for all the citizens in town. Three zombies had turned at the jail, and in turn, bitten three more, killing two instantly and starting the dreaded exponential effect of turning most of the town into the walking dead. Once the pattern started, it was difficult to contain, let alone stop. The fact there were another two hundred undead through the gate just added to the carnage. Joe and his people had the ammo and equipment to take care of an incursion this size, but it would woefully drain their resources. The supply run not only had taken them away from town at a bad time, but now most of the ammo would be for naught.

As
Joe was having a little luck finding people, Larry was having less trying to clear the jail. He couldn’t see into every corner, every cell, and every hallway, but he was doing the best that he could. Every step was slow, every sound was explored, and every round was still in their respective pistols as they reached the fourth floor.

No
zombies in the jail.

As
they checked the last of the cells on the fourth floor, Larry got on the radio to Joe.

“Joe,
the jail is clear. Meet on the second floor entrance, and we will let you in.”

“Copy.
We are pulling up now, and we got company! We got at least two hundred dead fucks about a quarter mile behind us. We need to get unloaded, and quick!”

Larry
vehemently waved Balboa and Kody to follow as he reached the end of the hallway and bounded down the stairs to the second floor. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, but he still got there in time. As he headed for the entrance on the inside the wall, he remembered Roy and Beverly were supposed to be watching their “patient.” He detoured for a moment to go down the hallway where he had left the pair, and their charge.

“Roy!
Beverly! You guys okay in there?”

He
didn’t have to wait for an answer, as it presented itself in the hallway. The lack of satisfactory lighting didn’t matter as he rounded the corner and smelled the distinctively metallic smell of blood, mixed in with the smell of piss and shit. There was no distinguished way to exit this world, and your body’s natural reactions made sure of it. Blood, entrails, and other indiscernible bits of human anatomy were strewn all over the short hallway and room where the woman had been kept. Larry followed several bloody handprints as they made their way to the door, the same one that Beverly had propped open. There was no mistaking it; the outbreak inside town had started here.

“Son
of a bitch,” Larry whispered under his breath. He took another deep breath and closed the door. It wasn’t the only way to get into town, and as far as he was concerned, there was no reason to go back to the scene of the crime,. He made sure the door was shut and locked before heading back to meet Joe. No sense in letting more zombies in. Hell, they couldn’t contain what they had.

When
Larry made it back to the main entrance on the second floor, Joe had already got all the personnel out, and started getting the ammo and rifles out of the LMTV. Fewer than twenty people had made the trip with him, only about a quarter of the town’s population. Many more had already been turned, or were just missing. There were a handful outside the wall on various tasks, but they were unaccounted for as well.

Joe
tossed a box of uniforms down from the back of the LMTV as Larry approached. The cardboard box landed with a thump at his feet. Curtis and Captain White were keeping watch on either side of the truck, as was Rick and Kane. The German shepherd kept a constant low growl, his hackles raised and ready to pounce on anything that moved.

Larry
grabbed the box of uniforms, looking at Joe, puzzled. “I think the guns and ammo are a little more important than these, buddy. What are we gonna do with all these?”

Joe
tossed down another box, this one full of knee and elbow pads. “Everyone that’s left is going to need some clothes in the next day or two, so they can wear these. People left everything and came here; they need a little comfort right now. Plus, we are going to need a lot of this stuff when we take back the town. Trust me, the ammo and guns are coming with us, except the fifty cal; it’s gonna stay in here. I have an idea for it.”

Larry
dropped the box of kneepads. “Take back the town? Look around, Joe! We don’t exactly have a militia here!
If
we take back the town, we are going to need a hell of a lot more than a box of elbow pads! We’ve got women, children, and a limited supply of ammo, so tell me – how the hell are we gonna take back my goddamned town!”

Joe
paused for a moment. Larry normally had a calm demeanor, the cool, collected stance that he had was shattered now. Joe thought for another moment. Wait –
his
town?

“What
the hell do you mean
your
town? I thought this was a place for all of us to live! I didn’t realize that it all belonged to
you
!”

Larry
smacked his hands against the tailgate of the LMTV. “I led these people for nearly a decade! You come in, and since then we’ve been shot at, blown up, and have a crazy psychopathic Marine after us. Not to mention the fact that we now have a breach for the first time in almost five years! Way to go on busting a big fucking hole in the wall!”

Joe
jumped down from the back of the LMTV, his heart racing. He could feel his face getting flush. He was frustrated, sure, but seeing Larry snap at him just made it that much worse. The zombies he could deal with, a simple bullet to the head ended all of their complaining. Straightening out his tasks and thoughts, fixing problems, and keeping the peace was becoming more and more of a pain in the ass.

“So
it’s all
my
fault?”

Larry
stepped in front of Joe, meeting his friend face-to-face. “I’m saying none of this shit happened
before
you got here. Oh, and, by the way, it looks like your charity case killed Roy and Beverly. Near as I can tell, it looks like she started all this shit. Of course, you crashing the wall down didn’t help anything, either.”

“
People were in trouble and I reacted – saving your wife and two children as well, I might add. Don’t give me shit about saving lives, Larry. The wall can be rebuilt, but we can’t replace people, can we?”

“Yeah,
I’m sure Andrew and Donnie would agree with you, wouldn’t they?”

Joe’s
face turned beet red. A shot like that from a friend as close as Larry had been was a little too much, even considering that Joe had taken personal responsibility for what had happened to his two friends. He’d lost more than them since then, but they were still the two biggest sore spots that he had. He’d lost family, friends and acquaintances since that first day, but having them all die at the expense of him getting home, or getting his own personal missions accomplished made it difficult to swallow. He couldn’t hold any more of it in, and what came out was ugly.

Joe
took a swing at Larry.

And
missed.

He
didn’t so much as miss, as Larry ducked away, but the message behind it was clear. There was not room enough for two men to try to run the town. Joe had his way, Larry had his, and up to now, it seemed that they had been able to agree. Joe was more prone to wild ideas that didn’t pan out sometimes, but effective nonetheless. Larry was more conservative; he had made a walled-in town, and kept its inhabitants safe for nearly a decade. He didn’t take unnecessary risks, preferring to play it safe, and, in turn, kept its citizens away from harm. The styles of both men weren’t meshing well, and now, at the most inopportune time; the differences were showing.

Larry
stumbled back for a second, and then regained his footing quickly. He charged over to Joe, who was holding his fists up, ready for a fight. Larry forced himself towards White’s outstretched arm, fuming. The voice of reason, oddly enough, was Captain White. He quickly stepped between Joe and Larry. There was no time for arguing. “You two fuckers want to take care of this at another time? We have a town full of zombies here. The personal bullshit can wait. Get your shit together and get in the goddamned jail!” He shoved both men back, planting a hand in each one’s chest and separating them.

“What
the fuck was that for? What is your goddamn problem?”

Joe
pointed an accusing finger back. “You and your bullshit, Larry! If you don’t like the way I do things, then fucking come to me like a man and say so! Don’t wait until the shit hits the fan and take out your shortcomings on me!”

“Knock
it off! Both of you have friends out there that we haven’t found yet. There are people that are counting on you two fucktards to get your shit straight, so I suggest you do it!” Captain White silenced both men temporarily.

They
hadn’t heard White lash out at anyone. The man had been an asshole to most everyone in his time in Tazewell, until he was loosed from his cell. In the time that he had been out and about, he’d shown the skills that served him well as a Marine. Leadership in the face of uncertainty was one of his better traits.

Larry
shot White a disapproving, angered look. “Since when are you the voice of reason there, General Sherman?”

Captain
White lowered his rifle. “Since you two fuckers decided to hash out your personal shit all of the sudden. Someone has to get you assholes in gear; stop your goddamned complaining and get the rest of that shit inside.”

Joe
had already grabbed another box, clambering back into the truck while Larry and White were arguing. As much as he hated to admit it, White was right. He wasn’t sure why Larry had decided to take out his frustrations now, but it didn’t matter. The truth had made its way out, and there was no hiding it now. Like a shot out of the blue, feelings had a way of bursting to the surface at the most inopportune times.

Joe
and Larry continued unloading the LMTV in silence. Both men knew what was at stake with the town being overrun. It was going to be a hell of an undertaking to get it clear, and they had neither the personnel nor the supplies to pull it off successfully. They were going to need some help, a plan, and for God’s sake, they needed a little unity.

CHAPTER
16

April 18, 2022 – 1631 Hours – Hazard, Kentucky

Jamie and Cornbread barreled down the road in the semi. The folks in Hazard, Kentucky had taken them in and kept them safe, even if only for a day, but it had a lasting mark on Jamie. The people there had no reason to help other than to be kind to their fellow man in need, and that was something sorely lacking nowadays. The semi-truck wouldn’t hold all of them, but, with any luck, he would be able to hook up to one of the trailers and take them all into town. The people of Camp Brown deserved to be taken care of, and Tazewell was as good as anywhere. Jamie hadn’t thought his plan all the way through; he was still running through how he was going to tell Joe about leaving town. Of course, he wasn’t going to get the chance to explain himself until they got back.

If
they got back.

Cornbread
fidgeted in the passenger’s seat. He wasn’t keen on leaving Larry or Joe, either one, in the dark, but he agreed with Jamie’s rationalization: both men needed a break from their respective burdens of leadership. Neither man gave their approval for them to leave, and they were just fine with that. There were a select few people that knew about them leaving, and that’s the way they wanted it. The less people that knew about their operation, the better.

Jamie
knew that Joe wanted to get the good folks at Camp Brown to Tazewell, and he was taking it upon himself to do so. It was like getting someone a gift; you had to get something that they would never get themselves, and the trip to Hazard was something that Joe would mull over too much before doing. It wasn’t that he didn’t respect Joe, quite the contrary, but if he and Cornbread got the people from Camp Brown to come along, they Joe could claim plausible deniability. What he didn’t know, he couldn’t disapprove.

“I
still don’t like this, Jamie. Way too much shit can go wrong while we’re out gallivanting around three hours away from home. What if something happens while we’re gone? How are we gonna explain that to Larry and Joe? Not to mention the fact that Larry and him are out doin’ their own thing today, too. We better not fuck this up, Jamie, or we’ll be cleaning the motel’s toilets until we can’t taste the difference between shit and French fries.”

Jamie
chuckled. “Let’s just hope that nothing goes wrong. Trust me, I know Joe and I know that he wants to do right by the folks in Hazard. As long as we make it back in one piece, we should be fine. No harm, no foul.”

Cornbread
eased back into the seat. “If you say so. How much longer until we get there?”

“We
should be there any minute. It was hard to see in the snow and the darkness, but I remember the place. I hate that it took so damn long to get here; I was hoping to get out of here tonight. If for some reason we have to sleep here tonight, the gig is up. I don’t know many people that will miss you or me…No offense.”

Cornbread
didn’t even look up. “None taken,” he replied, waving a dismissive hand.

“But
if they do, hopefully they will at least wait until morning to go out after us. If we leave before dawn, we should be in the clear.”

“You
say that like you’ve already figured out that we can’t make it back in time.”

“I’m
leaning towards staying here, yeah.”

Cornbread
sat up in the seat. “Why don’t we just worry about finding this fuckin’ place, then we can do whatever your little pointed head desires.”

Jamie
gave him the finger.

“Yeah,
fuck you too, Jamie. You know you love me.”

“I’m
beginning to regret my choice of partners for this little endeavor.”

“Like
you said, nobody will miss us.” Cornbread tossed an old rolled up napkin at his driver, further irking him.

“I
sure as shit won’t miss you
, ya fat asshole.
” Jamie said “ya fat asshole” in his best redneck accent. Sure, they were from the South and had a little southern drawl, but even at that, it could be greatly exaggerated. It was all a matter of perspective; folks in Massachusetts thought Virginians had a thick accent, Virginians thought Georgians did, and so on. Making fun of one’s own stereotype was a way of making sure the stereotype didn’t bother you, like cops eating doughnuts on purpose. Both men shared a good guffaw at Jamie’s redneck expense.

Jamie
chugged along the road for another few minutes before he noticed something familiar. Even in the snow and darkness, he remembered a certain landmark of the UPS building that made up Camp Brown, and now that it wasn’t covered in nature’s cold confetti, he recognized it even more. There had been a rock wall directly across from Camp Brown, adjacent to the building’s east side. That, in of itself, wasn’t that memorable, but the giant University of Kentucky symbol spray painted on the wall was noticeable. The paint was faded, chipped and missing in some large spaces, but largely, it was still there.

Jamie
slowed the truck, turning the signal on for a right-hand turn. Realizing what he’d done, he swiftly turned the blinker off.

“Yeah,
I don’t think anybody is gonna write you a ticket, hoss.”

Jamie
paid no attention to Cornbread’s remark. The truck rumbled down the street for another hundred yards or so before Jamie eyed the distinct building. “Here we go!”

The
snow was missing, but all the other landmarks were there. The fenced in area, the guards standing watch, and the familiar look of the former UPS station were all present. Jamie pulled the truck to the median and turned the big semi in a wide arc towards the entrance. In another time, he might have been mistaken for a delivery driver, but not today.

Both
the guards at the gate turned their weapons towards the big truck and opened fire.

* * *

“I don’t know where either one of them are, frankly, we don’t have enough information to go on right now. The best thing we can do is wait until morning and then clear out the town. We can use the LMTV and the Ram to plug the hole in the wall until we can get something else to seal it up with.” Joe stood, his hands on his hips, pacing back and forth in front of what was left of what he considered his “useable” personnel. Curtis, Rick, Larry, Kody, Boyd, Reggie, and Captain White sat against the alabaster white wall of the holding area, all eyes trained towards Joe.

“I’m
with you; if they are still alive, then we will most likely find them tomorrow. Chances are, they were surrounded or had to hole up somewhere,” Reggie said.

“Then
why the hell haven’t they contacted us yet? Both of ‘em had radios, so why haven’t they hollered at us?” Larry questioned, not bothering to look up.

Joe
stopped pacing. “I don’t know. Maybe we should go out and do a quick search. We can take a couple of us in the LMTV and do a quick run through town. Hell, we might even be able to plug the hole in the wall with the truck.”

“That’s
a terrible idea, Joe.” Captain White stood and addressed their informal leader. “Fact of the matter is, if they had radios they would have called. If they saw what was going on in town, then they would have followed, and if they were within a few miles, they would have come back after hearing all the gunfire. They are either far away from town, or they are dead.”

“Well
I’d like to think that they are alive, so we will assume they are and, for whatever reason, can’t contact us right now. As much as I hate to say it, it is pretty low on our list of priorities right now.”

“Then
what
is
on the top of our list right now?” Larry asked, absently looking down.

Joe
stopped pacing and turned towards his colleagues. “I have no idea. I think we should get some gear together and sleep on it for now. We don’t know how many we have out there, and we don’t know how many people we are missing. I say we hold tight for tonight and see what it looks like in the morning. Any thoughts?”

The
men exchanged casual glances. Fact of the matter was none of them had any idea how to proceed. They had become accustomed to living the good life within the walls of Tazewell, only going out to get supplies when it was necessary, and it had made them somewhat soft. There was no contingency plan in place for such an event, and Joe was disappointed in himself above all others. In his EMS heyday, he would often go over “worst-case scenarios,” with his partners, especially as far as 911 calls went. The “what if” element was always present in his work, and contrary to popular belief, it could always get worse. A breach in the wall and a mass of undead was doable, although difficult.

Joe
thought it would do them best to mull it over for a while and get some idea how to proceed. As much as he wanted to get Jamie and Cornbread back, it wouldn’t do them any good to get caught in a less-than-capable building, especially in the dark.

“How
many did we manage to get from town?” Joe asked.

“Head
count was only thirty-five, including all of us,” Balboa said. “Which means we have roughly sixty unaccounted for.”

“Yeah,
sixty more goddamned zombies, not including the extra hundred or so that came through the gate,” Captain White said, not adding any positive spin on the situation. “Why don’t you tell them about the tunnel?”

Larry,
Kody, and Reggie all collectively turned their attention to Joe.

“What
about the tunnel?” Larry asked after a few uncomfortable seconds of silence.

“It’s
full of zombies. There’s fucking thousands of them, and we got them all riled up to get out goddamn LMTV back. If they make it to town, then we are completely fucked. The walls won’t hold that many and we don’t have that kind of ammo to waste on ‘em,” Joe said, further aggravating his problems.

“Great.
Now we have a couple thousand undead after us, sixty people unaccounted for, and two of our friends are missing in action. Does that about cover it?” Larry said sarcastically. “Well ain’t that just fucking peachy. I really don’t even know where to start, Joe. This is about as a big a clusterfuck as we have ever had. I really don’t know what the hell we are going to do about this shit. It is just too much to absorb right now.”

“Yeah,
tell me about it. Let’s take care of one problem at a time, shall we?” Joe ruffled his own hair vigorously and tried to change the subject. “It’s gonna get dark in an hour or two. Let’s just get our stuff together and be prepared for the morning. Load up every magazine and LBV we have; check rifles and make sure they are in perfect working order, and grab every grenade we have. Tomorrow morning, we take back the town.”

More
work to do, more lives to save.

Just
another day in the zombie apocalypse.