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Authors: T.F. Hanson

BOOK: Blood Alley
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“If you go near her again,” the man’s voice was drowned out as the sirens in the city began to wail.

Romulus watched with a sinking feeling as the gates to the city slammed shut at the sound of the sirens, sealing him in the city, behind its walls.

Before the Apocalypse, the sirens had been used to notify the populous of Atlanta when a bad lightning storm was approaching and perhaps it was a better time to stay indoors. Now however, the sirens were not used for anything as mundane as a lightning storm. The sirens now sounded for only one thing, a zombie attack. Somewhere within the streets of New Atlanta, one or more of the infected were loose.

“Everyone get back,” the guards were shouting. “Go back to your homes or someplace safe.”

“Well Pike, I guess that means you will be staying with us a little longer,” Captain Walters smirked.

“I guess it does. Which way is your house?”

The Captain dropped his hand to the revolver sitting on his hip and Romulus immediately regretted provoking the man any further. “Listen, Pete,” Romulus said dropping into familiarity with the Captain. “Nothing happened with your wife. We were just talking about how things were before it all went to hell. You have a really smart, engaging wife there.”

“I don’t need you telling me what kind of wife I have, Pike,” the Captain replied as he moved his hand away from the gun, his eyes never leaving Romulus.

“Listen, just give me back my weapons and let me slip out of the gate now and I will be gone for some time.”

Captain Walters looked at Romulus as if he had just slapped him. “I can’t open the gate now! That is in direct violation of the city ordinances. We are in lockdown and will stay in lockdown until the order is given to unseal the city. Do I make myself clear, Pike?”

“Totally clear, Captain, totally clear,” Romulus said as he turned to go. “Come on AJ!”

Romulus had nowhere to go in the city. He had already checked out of the room at the boarding house where he had stayed. Maybe he would go over to Mulligan’s and knock back a few pints. The search and quarantine could last hours if not days. If by sundown the gates had not been reopened, he would have to check back into the flop house.

“Romulus!” a familiar voice cried out.

Romulus spun around, searching for his friend. He spied the general walking atop the ten foot wall that separated each section of New Atlanta. Romulus always marveled at the walls General Stone had built surrounding his city. New Atlanta had been built around an old country club that was in a horseshoe shaped bend of the Chattahoochee River in Johns Creek, Georgia, a pocket community that had been twenty five miles north of Old Atlanta.

Stone had been a retired US Army Captain when he had made his last stand against the zombie hordes behind the old brick walls of the country club. He had saved over two thousand Georgians that day.

Since that time, the people had made him a General and he had built New Atlanta out of the ashes of the old, pushing the walls of his new city outward brick by brick. The city now spun out in a circle from the original walls of the country club like a giant spoke wheel, each one of the spokes a ten foot high wall, six feet wide. Each wall had only one gate that connected that section to its neighbor and that gate was manned by the militia that reported to General Stone. In times of trouble, each of those gates could be barricaded by a two inch thick metal door, sealing off each section until the danger passed.

“What’s up, General?” Romulus greeted his old friend. Romulus and Stone went back before the Apocalypse when Romulus had been a teenager and Lincoln Stone had owned a comic book store near the high school. Romulus had spent long hours in that store discussing all sorts of things with Stone. He had been most interested in hearing stories about Stone’s tours in Iraq during Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation New Dawn.

Romulus always felt that the friendship with Stone had saved his life when Freddy’s broke out. The knowledge he picked up around the man had made him a survivor.

The General looked down at the zombie hunter assessing his young friend’s state of mind. “I need your help, Romulus. As you might have guessed, there has been an attack within the walls. As luck would have it, so to speak, you are still here.”

“Ah come on, Linc. I was just leaving. I have a new contract and it is time sensitive. The buyer is anxious to get this resolved. He wants to know if this zombie, spotted out by Augusta, could be his mother. I’m not the only one he hired. The Stratos brothers were hired and they left yesterday.”

“I know, Romulus, but I need you, and you are here. Help me out on this one.”

Romulus hesitated for a moment then gave in. If Stone was asking for his help, how could he turn the man down? “What do you need me to do?”

“The attack was here in this quarter, just a few blocks from here. Go with Captain Walters and some of his men. Poke your nose into things and see what shakes out. If there is a zombie still involved, the city will pay you from its coffers.”

“Oh shit! With Walters?” Romulus moaned not able to help himself.

“Yeah,” the General smiled knowing the history between the two. “With Walters.”

“I’ll need my weapons.”

“Walters, get Romulus his gear,” the General shouted. “Make it fast, time is of the essence.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

III

 

The cold, winter wind blew down from the North Georgia Mountains bringing with it the promise of snow, already dark clouds had formed over New Atlanta. Romulus reached up and snapped the top button on his duster to keep the cold air out.

He felt whole again as he walked down the alley beside Captain Walters. The familiar weight of his weapons hanging from his body somewhat lifted his dark mood from earlier. The double bladed battle axe he carried was once again strapped across his back and his sawed off shotgun, “Last Chance”, rode on his right thigh. Finally, hanging from a lanyard on his belt was his latest find, a high powered, pistol gripped crossbow that he had begun to favor over the shotgun because he did not have to reload ammo and it was much quieter.

“Pike, are you listening to me?” Captain Walter’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“What was that?” Romulus asked as they passed under the yellow tape strung across the entrance to the alleyway. He was amazed they still had yellow tape after all these years and what did it really matter? Most people were now tucked away, safe behind their closed doors.

“I asked why you need all those weapons.”

“Surely you jest, Walters?”

With a shocking, high pitched whine, the sirens that had been blowing for the past twenty minutes abruptly cut off, leaving only their echoes in the alley, chased away by the frozen winds.

“Morning, Captain!” one of the militia men standing around the bodies, greeted Walters as the two men approached.

“Pawlowski,” the Captain returned with a barely perceivable nod of his head. “Situation report please.”
Pawlowski stepped forward, the fat under his chin wobbled with his steps. “Well see here, Captain. Sometime early this morning, it appears that this young man,” he said pointing to one of the two corpses on the ground. “Was attacked by that there zombie,” he said pointing at the other corpse.

Romulus stepped over to the body on the ground and leaned forward to inspect the body. The throat was torn open and blood had pooled out from the wound. At some point during the cold night, the blood had frozen and now the body was stuck to the ground. Romulus prodded the corpse with the toe of his boot.

“Now you, stop that!” Pawlowski bleated. “That there is evidence. You can’t be contaminating the crime scene.”

With a start, the eyes of the dead man popped open, revealing blank eyes. The pupils lost in a milky whiteness. A hiss escaped the creature’s mouth as it reached out with both hands for the men standing around.

“Jesus H Christ!” Pawlowski shouted as he jumped back, probably moving faster than the fat man had ever moved in his life.

In one fluid movement, Romulus reached behind his back, released the catch on his axe and brought the heavy blade down and around, smashing in the zombie’s forehead. The creature’s flailing movements stopped immediately.

“Now it’s a zombie scene,” Romulus said as he wiped the axe blade on the zombie’s chest and returned the blade to his back.

“Jesus H Christ!” Pawlowski repeated for a second time.

“Get yourself together, Pawlowski. Finish your report,” Captain Walters said, a little irritation entering his voice.

“As I was saying, Sir. This here young man came down the alleyway sometime around 2:00 AM and was attacked by that there zombie. The zombie proceeded to tear the man’s throat out with his teeth, while the man caved in the zombie’s head with that there board,” he said pointing to a bloody board lying on the ground next to the second figure.

“And how do you estimate it to have been around 2:00 AM?” the Captain asked.

“Well, you see that there man standing by officers Jones and Franklin?” he asked pointing to the other end of the alley. “Well, he lives across from the entrance of the alley and he says he was woke at 2:00 AM by someone screaming all bloody murder from down in this area, where we are standing. He says he yelled out his front door for them to shut up.”

“Did he see anything?” Romulus chimed into the conversation.

Pawlowski stared at Romulus for a second and then turned back to his captain. “Nah, he didn’t see nothing. Said it was all too dark for him. Besides he was just interested in getting back to sleep, when the screaming stopped he was done caring.”

“Do you know either of the zombies?” Captain Walters continued.

“That one there,” he said pointing at the newly deceased zombie. “The one with the axe hole in his head. Why that is Alex Wilkins, you know him and Conner Witt are as thick of thieves, don’t go nowhere without each other. Anyways, both Alex and Conner were over at the Shine House last night putting on a big one. I stopped by the bar myself last night to have a spot before heading home. Anyway, seems Alex had asked Emily Smith to marry him and she had said ‘yes’. The boys were having a good old time.”

“And the other body?”

“Seems I might know about him too,” the fat man replied nervously. “I was working the entrance gate couple days ago when he came to the gate looking to enter the city. He weren’t looking so good and we didn’t know him so we done locked him up in quarantine like the rule book says to.”

“What is he doing loose and roaming the city? Quarantine is a minimum of five days.”

“Well, Captain, I don’t rightly know. See, that was my last day working the gate, I just came off my weekend.”

“Hold on a second,” Romulus interjected, holding up his hand. “What was it you just said?” he asked as his eyes roamed the ground.

“I said that I just got off my weekend.”

“No, before that. You said something about ‘go nowhere without each other’ and ‘thick as thieves’? If that is the case where is this Conner Witt? Why isn’t he here?”

“How the hell would I know? I’m not his keeper. Captain who the hell is this guy?” Pawlowski asked.

“He is a zombie hunter. The General sent him to help us out. Not that we need his help,” the Captain added. “Just answer his questions. Sooner we get this done the sooner we can get home. Looks like it is fixin to snow soon.”

“Listen both of you,” Romulus commanded, regretting his decision to open his mouth. He too wanted to get this over with and get on with his contract. “There is no way this went down like you are saying, Pawlowski. There had to be a third person here.”

“Maybe, you could be right. Could’ve been Conner Witt.”

“There is no way that this guy could have beaten the crap out of the zombie with his throat torn out. Nor could the zombie have torn his throat out with his head bashed in like it is,” Romulus stated as he stepped over the zombie’s corpse. “Look here,” Romulus added pointing on the ground next to the body. “Footsteps in the blood. There had to be someone else here in the alley. If you are correct about Alex and Conner being best friends, my bet would be those footsteps belong to Conner.”

“Well, I’ll be damned and fried in butter,” Pawlowski stated. “You sure are a regular detective, Mr. Zombie Hunter.”

“Can it! Pawlowski,” Captain Walters said, reluctant to help out Romulus. “Any idea where Conner Witt might be?”

“Well, he and Alex work at the brickworks, maybe he is there. The shift started about an hour ago. Also, his apartment is two blocks over. He and Alex lived in that building that used to be the old UPS Store.”

Romulus cursed himself for pointing out the obvious. Sometimes he wondered at the randomness of those who survived the Apocalypse and those who did not. How this man could have missed the clues was beyond him.

Now, however, with opening his mouth and pointing out the obvious he had delayed his exit from New Atlanta even longer. “Now what?” he asked aloud.

“Now we divide and conquer,” Captain Walters replied. “Pawlowski, turn that man loose down there and then head over to quarantine. I need to know how that man got out of there two days early,” he said. He then turned to another militia man who had been quietly standing by the whole time. “Smith, head down to the brickworks and see if Witt is at work. We need to find this man ASAP.”

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