Anno Zombus Year 1 (Book 9): September (2 page)

September 3
rd
Year 1 A.Z.

morning

The pair of techs sat with us at breakfast, at least until The Boss came along, then they picked up their coffees and buggered off so quickly that it seemed like magic.  This time she was giving me an offer, she was putting together a group of some of the best troops that she had, an elite squad of six.  She wanted me to lead them.  The fire in Apocalypse Girl's eye told me that I had better accept the job, though she was clearly livid at the idea of me being put in any more danger.

“Good!”  She said, when I accepted her offer.  “I'll have the other five report to the briefing room at 1300.  I'll introduce you to them then, and you can learn a bit more about what we are trying to do here.  I think you might find it interesting.”  Part of me was curious, to be sure, but all I wanted to do was look after Apocalypse Girl and just be fucking safe and secure for a little while.

“I'm sorry,” Apocalypse Girl tried to soothe me.  “I couldn't really do much about it.  She knows what you went through since all of this started and she knows what you're worth.  To be honest, if I was in her position I'd want you leading these guys, too.”  She smiled.  “You can keep them safe, after all!”  I felt a little better after that, but my new technician friends had already bailed.

After breakfast, we headed off to Tiny's dojo, at first to watch but before long the diminutive but deadly woman had roped me into assisting her in demonstrating a few techniques.  That bloody woman had the power of a demigod condensed and filtered and crammed into her miniature frame.  Just about when I had more than had enough of Apocalypse Girl's chuckling at how I was being flung about the room like a ragdoll, Tiny called an end to the session.

We went back to our quarters for some solitude, to discover that Apocalypse Mum, or one of her many lackeys more likely, had been there first.  I found a shiny new uniform, cleaned and pressed and perfectly fitting, with my name sewn into the front.  Apparently I was now a Lieutenant in The Boss's army now.  Fucking conscripted once again.  Great. 

noon

Lunch tasted like cardboard.  Probably something to do with my new command.  There's not really a whole lot I can do about it, though.  Still, they're not bad people.  Viking sat down across from me clad in his own uniform bearing nothing but his name and rank insignia.  Jokingly, I told him that he should really salute before just assuming I wanted a lowly Corporal sitting with me.  His salute was unconventional, not remotely a traditional military salute at all.  Rather, he lifted one cheek off of his seat, and let loose a great trumpeting fart.  “Permission to tell you to fuck yourself, Sir?”  He grinned.  “You're looking at your new right hand man, mate.  When The Boss told me I'd be working for your team I figured you'd need someone you can trust watching your back.  Your sword and my hammer, just like old times, yeah?”

“Like Canberra?”  I pointed out.  He looked concerned for a brief moment, before pointing out that Apocalypse Girl's mother is not remotely as insane as General Fuckwit had been, and even if she were, The Colonel was here too and she takes no shit from no body.  My blonde giant friend was right, no doubt.  Apocalypse Girl added that, although her mum was a bit of a bitch sometimes, she's got a good head on her shoulders and has been running outfits like these for the last twenty years or more.  If anybody knew what she was doing, it was The Boss.

We finished up with our meal, then headed to the briefing room to meet the rest of the troops.  Apocalypse Girl walked with us as far as the door, then kissed me and left without a word.  Viking shrugged then opened the door for me.

Five people stood in the room, Apocalypse Mum and four others.  The four turned as Viking and I walked through the door.  One was horrifically disfigured, a scar running from his jaw all the way up the right side of his face to gouge into the greying stubble on his head.  Either the grimace on his face was permanent or he was one of those that believed I needed to be castrated for knocking up The Boss's daughter.

Next to Scar was the tallest woman I had ever seen, taller even than Viking.  Giant had a pretty face and a nice smile, if anyone actually dared to look up that high.  Then, there was a comparatively short guy, bulging with muscle.  He looked like a pile of bricks stuffed into a sock.  Giant and Wall both grinned in welcome.

The fourth was a big Maori bloke, nearly as tall as Giant, almost as wide as Wall.  The pitted, crater-laced crags that were his face split revealing a cavernous mouth that had more teeth knocked out than were still in place as he welcomed me.  Apocalypse Mum, The Boss herself, introduced Viking and I, though the entire base knew about us by now, being new arrivals and all.

I could feel disdain oozing from my new troops.  Giant simply did not care one way or another about me.  She'd still protect me against the Dead, because I am still human and Living, and it is her job to do so, but she'd not give two hoots if I bit the biscuit.  Scar, it seemed, wanted me dead.  Wall and Maori seemed marginally more friendly than the other two, but it was hard to say.

Apocalypse Mum, sensing tension in the room already, began the briefing.  We were to fly out to a nearby town and see if there was anyone there.  Dead were, naturally, to be wiped out with extreme prejudice, as were any mutants.  Orders for the Living, on the other hand, were quite different.  Bandits were to be dealt with severely, but non-hostile survivors were to be screened and anybody that might be useful to the AR-18 facility should be extended an invitation to join us.  She stressed that it was to be an
invitation
not a conscription.

Any military personnel, however, should be ordered to report overland to Uluru, where they would be met by The Colonel, who would bring them into her organisation first.  Not just anyone is fit for The Boss's little group, it seemed.  The helicopter would take us there, drop us off and return for us the following evening.  If we require more time, all we need do is radio home.

Following the briefing, it was up to the hangars, then off to our destination.  I didn't even have a chance to see Apocalypse Girl again before leaving.

mid-afternoon

A small town in the grey wasteland that was once a vibrant red with a smattering of green, it seemed abandoned at first.  The chopper flew away almost before it landed to drop the six of us off, not going south back to AR-18, instead heading to the north-east.  Giant told me that the chopper pilots are always making regular rounds, picking up this group here, dropping that group there.  Searching for possible surviving groups everywhere.  The third seemed more often, of late.  The winter had slowed the Dead down, but with the rising numbers of mutants and the much warmer, clearer weather, even Apocalypse Mum's elite troops were still occasionally losing engagements.

Maori pointed at a shambling corpse that was making its lonely way up the main street of the town, just about to raise his gun to fire when Viking stopped him.  “We don't want to scare off any survivors, and we don't want to draw too many of these fuckers at once.”  The mountainous landscape of Maori's face furrowed its forest of a mono-brow.  A second later, he slung his assault rifle over his shoulder and pulled out his knife.  A brief moment after that, the corpse had ceased its shambling, and Maori removed his blade from its head.

I ordered Scar and Wall to circle around the town, let off a flare if they see any large groups of the Dead.  Moments later they returned.  Each had found a couple of corpses and bashed their heads in to be certain, but there was no sign of any large numbers of Dead around.

So, we began our house-to-house search.  Many of them contained just one or two Dead, most of which had been trapped in a room inside and a warning written on the wall near the door.

Eventually we came to the church in the centre of town.  Carefully, quietly, I snuck up to the double doors at the front.  From within, I could hear quite a heated argument.  Someone had noticed our chopper, and they were none too happy to see any sign of the military.  To be honest, I am not entirely sure I blame them, except that I am one of
them
now.  At least technically.  So, I knocked on the door.

“Ahhh... who... who's there?”  A timid voice came from inside.

“Open up and see!”  Viking shouted back.  “We've taken out all the Dead in town, so it's safe to come out...”  He waited to see if that had any effect.  “Look, mate, we've got our orders.  We have to at least check you guys out.  If you're all healthy you'll be fine and if anyone in there is bit, we can take care of that too.”

“Thanks, but we really don’t need anything from you.” Another, more authoritative voice replied.  “Just go back to where you came from and leave us be, please.”  It really didn’t sound much like a request.  Maori looked at me questioningly.  I could feel Giant’s eyes on me as well.  They wanted to see how their new Lieutenant was going to handle this situation.

“You might not, but we need to see for ourselves.  Look, if you open up we can get this over and done within a couple of minutes.  If not, well, we have our orders.” I called out through the heavy wood of the church door.  The response was slow in coming.  The sounds of hushed debate emanated from within.

“We’re only prepared to let
one
of you in.  The rest stay outside.  But, to be fair, you can have one of our guys as a hostage.”  The door opened a crack.  A grimy face behind a Catholic collar peeked through.  As I was about to step through the door, Viking grabbed hold of my arm.  Shaking his head, he told me that he would go inside.  I was too important.  The priest came out, shaking in terror, as Viking stalked past him with a grin.  The door shut behind him.

“So, did you live here, you know, before?”  Giant asked the priest.  He seemed terrified of the woman.

“Chill out, mate, it’s all going to be alright,” Maori told him.  This seemed to exacerbate the poor fellow’s condition.  I motioned for the rest of the group to move back and give him some room as he fell to the ground in a cowering heap.

Kneeling down beside the priest, I repeated Giant’s question.  He nodded almost imperceptibly.  Asking if there was anything that we might need to know, anybody bitten inside the church, whether the people in charge were alright, what sorts of weaponry they might have, he replied to each question in the same fearful tone.  No, nobody had been bitten since the early days, when they locked all of the first victims up in their own homes.  When the winter hit, they all moved into the church for warmth and proximity to others.

He told us that he, himself, was one of the town’s leaders.  Another used to be a local policeman, the third was a teacher at the local high school.  They had no weapons to speak of, other than makeshift cudgels for the Dead.  I asked him what he was so afraid of, he refused to speak further.  A minute later, Viking threw open the door of the church and sauntered out.  The priest receded back into the darkness.

“Right.  These folks here are alright, but they’ve got some issues with some local bandits.  They call themselves The Righteous, apparently.  Religious loonies, according to the guy in charge,” came the report.  “So, these Righteous are holed up somewhere to the east of here, maybe half a day away on foot.  I couldn’t get the exact location from the guy, not that it really matters, they move around a lot.”

Viking continued his report.  “So, this guy, used to be a copper in this place, apparently, runs this town with a teacher and that priest dude, and they’re trying to make peace with these Righteous fuckers, because they’re always coming into town and shooting up the place while shouting out the usual religious bullshit about the end of the world.  No real damage done, other than someone copping a stray bullet one time, and usually they clear off after someone comes out of the church to yell at them.  This time, they took the teacher hostage.”

“Let me guess,” Scar began.  “They want us to find their lost little lambling, yes?”  The first words out of his mouth were thick with a heavy German accent.  It seemed as if his grimace was indeed permanent.  “And then they’re going to snub our offer of shelter, too, I bet.”

“I didn’t promise them anything, if that’s what you’re asking me.  This teacher lady was nabbed about a week ago, according to the guy I talked to.  In my experience, she’s probably dead by now, or worse.”  The entire squad nodded their agreement with his statement.  “In any case, I gave them our offer.  You’re right, mate, they don’t want anything to do with us.  Even if we somehow manage to rescue their friend.  Not that we have any ideas where to even start looking.”

“We’ve heard of these religious fanatics before,” Wall pursed his heavily muscled lips, deep in heavily muscled thought.  “But we haven’t got any solid leads on a location yet.  All we know is ‘somewhere to the east’ because that’s all we’re ever told.”