Gnash (24 page)

Hank Dawson waived at her to catch her attention.  He was seated at a table near the middle of the room with another soldier who had his back to her.  She waived back and rushed over to the table.  Hank pulled out the seat beside him indicating where she should sit.

“Hi,” Hank said.  He gestured to the man sitting across from him, “Emory Perry, this is Lieutenant Colonel Bryce Colton.”

Bryce stood halfway up and offered her his hand.  “Nice to meet you ma’am,” he said.

“Please, call me Emory,” she said as she shook his hand and realized he was in the Air Force, not the Army. 

“Colonel Colton was my unofficial grief counselor after I lost my team.  Do you want to get a cup of coffee before we start talking?” Hank asked as he gestured at his near-empty cup, “I could use a refill.”

“Sure,” she said and stood up with the other two. 
Not the high school’s coffee pot, it must be Army issued,
she thought as they walked towards the gigantic coffee machine that brewed gallons of the awful stuff at a time.

“Hank, I know you don’t really know me, but can you get me access to a telephone?” she asked as they sat back down with steaming cups full of the sludge that passed for coffee in the dining facility.  She quickly explained her situation and the disappearance of Grayson before the attack on Fort Sill.

“I’ll see what I can do about getting a satellite phone, but I won’t be able to get you into the command center.  That’s strictly a no-civilian area,” Hank said.

“Really?  Not even for emergencies?” she pleaded.

“I don’t mean to be callous, but just about everybody in here has an emergency Emory.  I might be able to get a sat phone, but it will take me a few hours since I’m not using it for a mission and they’ll wonder why I need it.”

“You’re right, I’m just being selfish.  Thank you for your offer to help Hank.  Anything is appreciated,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome.  We’ll get you on the phone as soon as possible.  But for now, we were talking about the containment zone earlier.”

“Actually, I’d like to hear any updates on that too Sergeant.  I’ve been released since we talked last time, but I don’t have any duties or any real responsibilities and I think that Dr. Collins is keeping tabs on me,” Bryce stated.

“Really sir?  I hadn’t pegged him to be the kind.”

“I’m not sure, but I keep seeing the same couple of soldiers over and over.  I know that we’re confined to a small refugee camp, and you’re going to see the same people every day, but this just feels different.”

“I’ll put the feelers out there, see if there’s anything going on that anyone in the teams knows about,” Hank said.  Then he quickly went over what he’d talked to Emory about earlier concerning the containment zone and the unclassified knowledge of the secondary infections.

“A positive spin, if you can call it that, is that the disease only appears to effect humans, animals seem to be immune,” Hank continued.

Bryce looked at Hank, “And one person apparently.”  Emory glanced expectantly between the two of them.  “I was exposed to the virus, or chemical, we don’t even know yet, when it was initially released almost a month ago.  I was at the Pentagon during the terrorist attack, actually came into contact with a couple of them too.  But for some reason, I’m fit as a fiddle.  They’ve done all sorts of tests on me, but can’t figure it out.”

“And that’s why you think Dr. Collins is following you?” Emory asked incredulously.

“Yeah.  I think that they released me once they were certain I couldn’t spread the disease and that I’d given more blood and tissue samples than they could possibly use, but they still want to watch me to ensure I don’t develop delayed characteristics.”

“So, if you’re immune, then there has to be a way we can cure these things,” Emory finally stated after a few moments of silence between the three of them.

“Yeah, well until they can figure out why I’m immune, I don’t really help anyone,” he said bitterly.  “Hell, out of everyone on this camp, Sergeant Dawson has done the most for humanity.  He’s killed thousands of these things.”

Emory looked at Hank with some alarm.  “Busy week, buddy,” she said.

Hank shook his head and said, “More like busy month.  My team and I were at ground zero in the Pentagon fighting the freaks from day one.  They escaped because we couldn’t stop them.”

Bryce shook his head, “This is not your fault.  The only people responsible for this are those goddamned terrorists.  If they hadn’t cooked up their biological agent, the French wouldn’t have nuked us and everything would be fine.  Don’t blame yourself.  You and your team did everything that you could.”

“Thank you sir.  I appreciate that.”

“This is actually a lot to process,” Emory said.  “So, you guys are saying that the attack at the Pentagon last month was the cause of the zombie outbreak and that’s why we were nuked, to stop the zombie threat?  Why isn’t this information getting out to the refugees in the camps?”

Hank looked at her for a moment, “Actually, right after the attack, the president did make an announcement, but no one in the camps here in Virginia saw it.  They were either running for their lives from D.C. or didn’t have access to televisions after the initial EMP from the blast wiped out all the non-hardened electronics within a couple hundred miles.

“But do you really think it would matter to the refugees when or where the zombies came from right now?” he continued.  “Hell, the few soldiers not on the line, like Sergeant Dawson here, that are allowed to leave the camps to go fight are confined to the wire once they return.  Do you know anyone who’s came in here that has left for good who wasn’t in a body bag?  I sure don’t.”

“Are you saying we’re prisoners?” she asked.

“I don’t think we’re prisoners, but we’re not free to go.  That’s for sure,” Bryce said.  “But think about it, we’re being provided for at the moment, we’re relatively safe in here, and a lot of us have been in close proximity to nuclear radiation.  It’s better to keep us confined to an area so we can be a controlled variable in this whole mess.”

“You know Mr. Colton, I was a staffer for a Congresswoman less than a month ago.  I can spot a bullshitter from a mile away,” she deadpanned. 

“Ok, ok, I give up,” Bryce said holding up his hands.  “We can’t leave, but we’re being well taken care of for now.  And that’s a lot better than the folks who aren’t in here.  We’re…well, our government, is trying to help everyone they can, but they’ve got a huge problem on their hands.” 

“First off, they’re not really sure if we’re contaminated in some way that hasn’t manifested itself yet, like is the disease airborne and we’re going to get sick later on?” Hank said as he started to count off his points on his fingers.  “Next, for most of us in here, all our homes and belongings were destroyed in the blast.  And finally, the country is in the middle of a goddamned, full-on war with itself…well, actually, the final point is we still don’t know who’s responsible for this and what they have planned next,” he amended.

“Hell Emory, you can see the news just as well as we can,” Bryce gestured to the TVs on the wall.  “They’re just now getting control of the Midwest and it’s full-on gang warfare in California.  The reporters are on scene at the D.C. conflict itself, but nobody is out in the countryside.  When I moved here from Decon Camp Seven, we convoyed over here in up-armored Humvees and the gunners were still nervous because they’ve been shot at so many times.  The nuclear blast has really messed with people’s minds.  Frankly, I’m surprised we haven’t had more problems in the camp as it is.  We need to organize ourselves for a defense in case things go south faster than the military can handle it.”

Hank nodded his head in agreement.  She looked back and forth between them again and asked, “Ok, I’m in.  What do we need to do?”

“See that sir, I told you she was our girl,” Hank said with a smile as he glanced around the dining facility and then gestured for Bryce to continue.

“Look, Master Sergeant Dawson and I have been around these things for a while.  They’re not the brain-dead zombies from the movies.  I’ve seen some of the work in the labs and a little bit back at the Pentagon, he’s seen it extensively in the field.  We’ve talked a lot about this.  Those things we call zombies are dumb as shit by themselves, but as a group, they’re pretty advanced.  Think of them like an ant colony.”

Bryce let that sink in for a moment.  “Well, if they’re like ants, where is their queen?” Emory asked.

“I’ve seen him.  Or at least I think I have, back at the Pentagon,” Hank stated.  “Just before they made their escape out of the basement, I saw one of them giving orders to the others.  He sent a large force to delay us so that their main group could get away.”

“And infect the D.C. citizens who weren’t evacuated,” she finished.

“Yeah, we think there are more of the secondary infections now than the original ones since we’re primarily fighting large groups of them instead of the original freaks.  But there’s always one or two of the originals with these groups, those guys move better, are more coordinated and have enough motor skills remaining to carry clubs and other blunt weapons…”

“Wait, so you’re telling me these things are organized into…” she searched for the word, “…into platoons with the Pentagon zombies leading them?  That seems a little far-fetched.”

“We’re sitting at a table inside a nuclear decontamination camp talking about real-life zombies,” Bryce said.

“Ok, point goes to you.  How is this possible?  The ones I’ve seen in the hospital have been rage-filled, self-destructive and all they wanted to do was eat somebody so the soldiers have been able to put them down pretty easily.  They’re not interested in doing much besides attack everything in sight.”

Hank cleared his throat a little, “You’re talking about onesies and twosies.  These things outside the wire definitely operate in groups.  And we don’t think they’re trying to eat anyone, by the way.  Biting and transfer of bodily fluids, like their blood, into open wounds is how the infection spreads.  I’ve been around them a lot, none of them are eating people, they just bite and tear and rip once they get close.  Their teeth are just another weapon.”

“So basically, take all the zombie movie stuff and throw it out the window, right?” she asked.

“Most of it.  But destroying their brain is the only way to be sure that they’re dead.  The movies got that part right.”

“Another difference between the originals and the secondary infections is their coloring.  The ones from the Pentagon look like kind of like their skin is melting off of them and they have a pale, almost waxy appearance.  The secondary infections are more of your typical Hollywood rotters, with grayish, diseased skin and they have big sores that leak pus…really gross stuff,” Bryce added. 

“Alright, so what do we need to do in order to help protect ourselves from these things?  I mean, what can we do while we’re stuck in here?  I feel like a sitting duck.”

“I’m going to talk to the camp Sergeant Major after this,” Hank said.  “First, I think we need to separate the LZ
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and the hospital from the rest of the camp more than it is, if a helicopter crashes inside the wire with infected on board, it could spread easily from there.  Also, we don’t have any barriers in place to stop an outbreak at the hospital from turning into a camp-wide disaster.  We need to put up concertina wire and emplace more guards at a very minimum.

“Next, we need to stop with the secrecy crap.  Colonel Colton and I can’t do it because of our positions in the military, but the truth needs to get out to the people in this camp.  That’s where we think you can really help us, Emory.  You only need to tell a few people about how things really are outside the wire and word will spread like wildfire.  Then they’ll have to address it and come clean with everybody.  That, in turn, will allow us to start a defense force as more people learn how truly precarious the situation is.  The truth about these things has to get out.  People need to know what they’re up against in order to survive.”

“Ok, I know a few people who I can talk to that should get the ball rolling.”

***

09 May, 1109 hrs local

Three Pillars Estates

Indianapolis, Indiana

The thing that looked like Jessica continued to kick and slam her body into the door.  The tempered glass cutout on the upper half of the door was shattered and both of her arms were pushed through, her hands opening and closing as she tried to grasp anything that came close and her face was pressed against the metal window-pane dividers as she snarled at the small crowd that had gathered on the walkway. 

“What the fuck are we supposed to do with her?” Curtis gestured towards the house as he asked Grayson the question.

“Well, for now, I think she’s pretty well locked in, but that thin little bit of metal is going to give out sooner or later, she’s been chewing at it a while.  Hell, if she went twenty feet the other way and broke out a bedroom window, she’d easily get loose, but it’s like she doesn’t understand that there are other ways to get to us than the one right in front of her.  We’re gonna have to either restrain her or barricade the house some way.”

“What if we handcuff her wrists while she’s got them stuck out the window?” asked the former military cop Gretchen.

“I think we’d just give her leverage to pull the window pane out,” Curtis said.  “You think that Pecan Valley doctor could help her out?”

“Well, we can ask him, but we need to keep some people back from that trip.  I don’t want her getting loose and hurting anyone,” Grayson stated.

“Hey Jamie, is the back door locked?” one of the residents asked.

“I think so.  I mean, I don’t remember unlocking it, but we always kept it locked.  Do you think she can get out?  Shit, all the windows back there are open too.  I forgot about them.  The smell from Jessica’s leg was so bad that I had to keep them open.”

There was a collective groan from the group as they realized the truth.  Even though Grayson had said Jessica could break out a window, none of them had recognized until now that almost all the windows in the house were open, there was no way to keep her inside without lowering the windows.