Surviving The Dead: Heartland Zombie Apocalypse Vol. 1 (27 page)

Dropping his find in a pocket Hank directed, “Lets move on”.

The trio moved on down the hall towards the cafeteria.  Hank stopped at the double swinging doors and pressed his ear to one of them.  Pulling his knife, Hank used the tip to open the door just enough to peak in.  Seeing the room inside filled with dead Hank slowly let the door close again.

Holding a finger to his lips Hank explained, “It crawls in there get back to the exit.”

Clive saw a housekeeping cart nearby and retrieved a broom from it.  As quietly as he could Clive slipped the broom handle through the door pulls.

“That will hold them for a bit.  I always heard that hospital food could kill ya, but never believed it.”, joked Clive.

The three men moved towards the exit.  Clive and Bull were in the lead and Hank a few paces behind, pistol drawn keeping an eye on the cafeteria doors.  Their path of retreat brought them past the elevator.  With the power returned and noises filtering in Elise Baker's corpse began moving around the elevator occasionally hitting a button.  As it moved from floor to floor the jerking of the elevator destabilized the awkward creature enough it never got out before the elevator moved on.

Hank's back was to the elevator when it opened and the creature fell upon him tearing a large chunk of flesh from his back. 

“Aww shit.  I'm bit.”, Hank hollered.

Bull got to Hank first, pulled the Dee off of him and threw it to the floor.  Slamming the heel of his boot into its skull he finished it off.  If Elise Baker was looking on she would say 'Like I always said, nothing but bad luck'.

Hank reached into his pocket and pulled the medicine for his son, “Clive get this to Doc.  When you see my boy tell him I'm proud of him, tell him I said he is the bravest boy in the world.”, Hanks voice caught a little bit and his eyes teared, “tell Mary, I love her and I'm sorry for leaving to go it alone.”

Clive shook his head,  “Tell them yourself we're getting you out of here.”

Hank gave his two comrades a rueful smile, “You know there ain't no comin back from this.  Bull, leave me your pistol, you can't shoot for shit anyhow and both of you give me your spare mags.  If I'm going down, I'm going to take those things with me. Haul ass to the exit, that broom handle ain't gonna last long.”

At the stairwell Clive radioed Blade to let him know Hank was in trouble.  Blade went down the stairs two at a time with the rest of the militia following close behind.  Reaching the basement door Blade found the way blocked by Bull.

“Can't let you by Boss.  The Man got to do this one on his own.”, Bull stated resolutely.

Clive explained Hank had been bit, by the dead women who had been trapped in the elevator and that Hank was making a final stand against the dead that were going to come pouring out of the cafeteria.  Blade resisted for a bit, but eventually gave in to Bull and Clive's insisting Hank needed to finish this alone.

Hank had taken a moment to enter the pharmacy to grab bandages and gauze to staunch the bleeding of his shoulder long enough to finish the task.  Then standing in front of the double doors he called, “Come on you dead fucks, you can push harder than that.”

At his taunts more dead pushed against the doors and the broom handle began to crack and splinter. All at once the doors flung open and the dead spilled out. 

Hank was positioned about ten feet from the doors, a raised pistol in each hand, “Well hello boys and girls lets dance.”

Hank simultaneously began squeezing off round after round and slowly stepping backwards.  At this range and with such a large crowd, he dropped one with every round.  As he fired Hank counted every squeeze of the trigger, one, two, three, four.  Stopped to take a quick look over his shoulder, five, six, seven, eight.  When he hit forty both magazines were empty and back stepping fast he ejected the magazines and pushed in fresh ones.

By now he had reached a narrower portion of the hall and the dead bunched up, hands out stretched reaching for him.  The fresh blood from his wound amping them up, causing them to push against each other each eager to taste his flesh.  Hank continued counting his rounds at the seemingly endless horde coming at him.

Again he ejected his spent magazines and reloaded.  He was now down to one more spare magazine.  By the time his count hit twenty he could see he was making a dent in the horde.  When he reached forty he dropped Bull's pistol and loaded his last magazine.  The hallway angled back to the left, so Hank took up a position just around the bend.  The loss of blood had left him weak and made his head spin.  Bracing himself against the wall, a last surge of adrenalin let him take out the final few creatures.

Hank walked back to the exit door and could see Blade peering at him through the cut out.  Hank raised his right hand in salute, “Only one left Boss.” 

Then raised the pistol in his left hand to his temple and pulled the trigger, saving his friends from having to keep him from turning.

Blade balled his hands into fists, “Fuck”. 

Blade quickly curbed his anger, knowing these men and women behind him needed a leader and there was still a mission to complete.

“Willis divide the men up into two teams and search the rest of the floor and make sure we are all clear to bring the salvage crews in.  And Willis bring back something to wrap Hank's body in.  Bull Clive you stay back and hold the exit.  Landers help me get Hank's personal effects to bring back to his wife.”, Blade directed.

Amy and Blade had done this more times than either one of them wanted to recall, but set about the task efficiently.  Amy removed Hank's wedding ring, found a picture of Henry and Mary in his right breast pocket, but decided to put that back to be buried with him.  Blade pulled out Hank's wallet, it still contained a few bills, credit cards and his license.  More importantly it held a picture of Hank and Mary from their wedding day, a baby picture of Henry, a recent school photo of Henry and a worn picture of Mary that Hank often took out when he was away from her.

Finally they took off Hank's weapons.  They both hoped it wouldn't be necessary, but the day would most likely come when Henry will need to belt on his Father's holster.  Still waiting for the patrols to return, Blade pulled Hank's eyelids closed and they straightened his arms and legs respectfully.

“Roger.          Roger!  Come on in now.”, the old woman called.

Roger grumbled, “Nag,nag, nag Old Woman.  I'm fine the wind is blowing right down from the hills, if there are any creepy crawlies about I'll smell them long before they get here.”

“Roger dinner is ready.”, stated the old woman.

Roger perked up, “Now your singin my song old gal you don't need to call me twice for supper.”

The old woman teased, “Special treat tonight Roger, we have prime rib, baked potatoes, and steamed asparagus.”

Roger wasn't amused, “Funny looks like eggs and zucchini again.  Why don't you let me take care of one of the chickens we're keeping in the back room.  Roast chicken would be a nice change.”

Unable to make their simple meal more appealing by pretending it was more than it was she just stated, “Eat up Roger and get some rest.  We've got a big day tomorrow.  We've got to get the rest of the garden picked and I'm depending on you to keep watch for me.”

As Roger drifted off to sleep he thought about the family he had lost.  The weeks he had been on his own hiding from the bad people were the scariest days of his life.  The day he had found the old woman was a happy day for Roger.  She was stern and bossy, but she took care of Roger and Roger kept watch over her.

In the morning the woman was looking nervously out the window at the weather vane.  The house was isolated and built near a cliff so the dead could only come from one direction.  When the wind was blowing towards the house the stench of any nearby dead ones would alert the woman and Roger.  When it was blowing away from the house than they could come much closer before being spotted.

The woman shrugged, “Bad news Roger the wind shifted over the night.  We don't have a choice though, we have to finish picking the crops or we won't be able to put up enough food for the winter.  We'll have to be extra careful today.”

Normally a comic Roger heard the seriousness in her voice and took a serious attitude as well. “I understand, lead the way.”

As the couple approached the garden Roger sprinted ahead to make sure it was clear.  Then ran back to the woman to let her know he hadn't spotted anything.  The pair entered the garden and the old woman busied herself with filling the baskets and Roger kept a vigilant watch.  Roger spied a rabbit holding tight under the leaves of a zucchini plant.  He remembered the day he met the woman, he had caught a rabbit by her garden that morning.  After having nothing to eat for a couple of days he was ready to gobble it up whole.  The woman stepped out of her cottage and he decided instead to make a new friend. 

This morning the rabbit was holding uncharacteristically still, with a quick lunge he could have the rabbit and be back to the woman's side.  However, before he could move the woman screamed, “OWW, Roger It got me.”

Roger turned and saw the dead thing lurking in the corn holding the woman's arm.  Roger began yelling “Hey you let her go.  You don't belong here.  This is our place.”

The woman scolded, “Roger stop your barking.  You're just going to bring more of them down on us.  I stuck him good he's finished.  Lets get back to the house and get my arm bandaged up.”

Once back to the house the woman cleaned and bandaged her wound.  Roger feeling as if he let her down stayed to close and was constantly underfoot.  Normally, the woman would scold him for being in the way, but as the reality of their situation came into focus for her.  The petty annoyance of tripping over the dog seemed a small matter.

After taking care of her arm as best she could the woman weary from blood loss sat down on the couch.  In an uncharacteristic move she called Roger to come and sit next to her.  Finally, overwhelmed by the pent up emotions from all she had lost and the worry for what will become of Roger, she began to cry.  Roger wanting to comfort her moved closer and she hugged the lab close and cried into his shoulder.

Ever pragmatic she didn't allow herself to give in to the emotions to long.  There was little she was going to be able to do for Roger, but she would do what she could, “Roger I'm going to take a nap for a little bit and then I'm going to make you a nice roast chicken dinner.”

The next morning the fever from the bite was raging within her and she knew she did not have long.  She butchered another of her chickens and fed it to Roger.  She no longer had a need for the chickens and at least Roger would start out with a full stomach. 

When Roger finished eating she called him out to the porch, “Roger Sit.” 

When Roger sat down she knelt down next to him and hugged him again.  Roger could feel the heat of her fever, “Roger, I don't know if you understand, but you need to find someone else to take care of.  I'm going to dig up Bob's old pistol and end things before I turn.” 

With that she turned and walked into the house closing the door on Roger.  A confused Roger began whining and scratching at the door, “No let me in.  I'm sorry.  I can't lose another family.  Please!”

After what seemed like an eternity the woman opened the door, “Settle down now Roger.  Bob's old pistol is to rusted up to fire.”

An excited Roger jumped up and began excitedly licking her face, “Okay that's enough Roger.  Let's sit for a while out here on the porch.”

The woman sat down on the deck of the porch and the big, yellow lab laid his head in her lap.  He nuzzled under hand and encouraged her to scratch his chest.  He could not understand what was going to happen to her.  Right now he was with his friend and he was happy.

“Crystal this test isn't completely conclusive, but coupled with your physical symptoms, I have to agree with the test results.”, stated Doc Linderman.

“Doc I'm captain of the militia.  It can be a pretty rough and tumble job at times.  How do I get through this?”, questioned Crystal.

Doc replied, “I'm sure we can figure out some compromises.”

Crystal nodded, “Doc can you keep a lid on this for now?”

“Doctor patient privilege.  I'll keep it under my hat.”, he answered.

“I guess I should talk to some people and figure this out.  Tobin should be done with lunch now.  No time like the present.”, Crystal said as she headed out.

Crystal made her way over to the community building for lunch.  She was lost in thought as the reality of her situation began to take clarity in her mind.  As she entered Crystal saw Hank's wife Mary with their son Henry.  So many things would trigger his migraines that Crystal had only seen the two of them on rare occasions.  With the medicines that Hank had sacrificed himself to get little Henry could have a more normal life, at least until the medicines ran out.

Pastor Jim was speaking with Mary.  Jim had fallen back into Pastor mode as his group joined the compound and had started holding regular services and offering spiritual support.  Crystal pasted a smile on her face as Tobin came up to her.

“Hey Babe you almost missed lunch.”, Tobin exclaimed.

“Just wrapping up some details.  You know how it goes.”, replied Crystal.

After lunch Crystal encouraged Tobin to go back to their apartment.  She still hadn't figured out how she was going to break the news from her doctor visit to him.  Their relationship had been on the fast track since they came to this compound.  Not that Crystal was complaining about that, but she wasn't sure yet how Tobin would take the news, it just wasn't one of those things they had gotten around to discussing yet.

“Tobin you know I saw Doc today?”, Crystal questioned as they entered the apartment.

Her tone made him answer cautiously, “Yeah, you said it was routine.  He didn't find a problem did he?”

Crystal chuckled nervously, “I guess that is all a matter of perspective.”

“So there is a problem?”, the concern showing in Tobin's voice.

Crystal shook her head emphatically, “Calm down it is nothing like that.  Tobin we … you and I, are going to have a baby.”

Tobin broke into laughter than scooped Crystal into his arms, “You had me scared for a minute.  Hold on lets make this official.”

Tobin left Crystal and went to their bedroom.  He returned in a moment and knelt on one knee and took Crystal's hand, “I've practiced this in my mind so many times, but right now I can't remember any of the speeches I came up with.  Crystal you know I love you.  Would you do me the honor of being my wife.”

Crystal pulled him to his feet and with tears in her eyes, “Yes.”  Then as Tobin slipped the ring he had been holding on her finger, “Where did you get the ring?”

Tobin replied a bit sheepishly, “When I was on the first run to Lexington, I was hoping there would be a time to give it to you.”

“Tobin we really need to talk about the baby.  What if something goes wrong and it turns into one of those things inside me?”, Crystal asked.

Tobin laughed taking her hands in his, “Darlin you think about things to much, she is going to be a beautiful baby.”

Crystal smiled at his reassurance, “OK maybe that is a bit dramatic, but what about poor Henry, he's growing up without his dad, I don't want our son to have to go through that.”

Tobin was to elated to worry, “We are into it now.  There is no going back sweetheart.  We'll just have to figure it out.”

Zephram Nordstrom had become a deplorable creature over the past few weeks.  His hair and beard were dirty, matted and full of grass and leaves.  His clothes were in no better shape they were covered in mud and blood and the seams were starting to give from the constant wear.

Gone were the meager supplies, left by the bastards that had abandoned him here.  He feared to start a fire to cook the small animal and fish he was able to catch, choosing instead to eat them raw with whatever berries and roots he could forage.  Daily he slipped closer and closer to madness from the isolation and lack of sleep due to the constant fear of chompers. 

The only thing that gave him a grip on reality was his hatred for the woman that left him here.  He would spend hours each day plotting his revenge and thinking of delightful ways of getting his payback for his mistreatment.  Zephram had always enjoyed the sound of his voice and had begun a habit of having long conversations with himself.

“Zeph old boy we got to get our act together and find our way out of here.”

“Its not that easy friend.  We got no map, no compass, ain't got no idea where we're at and none of these two tracks is marked.”

“Zeph quit your belly achin.  Sounds to me like you don't want our Jilly back.”

“Oh son we gonna get Jilly back, we gonna get Joy back and we gonna have that little blonde bitch that Captain.”

In his wanderings Zephram had come across a large lake.  The lake was water and food.  He only had a single canteen and could only carry enough water to last him two or three days.  The past several days,  he had no idea how many, he had kept up a process of trekking away from the lake and returning once his water was half gone.  Each trip moved him farther around the lake.  Each trip was a chance to find a cabin, a car, or another person.

Today his luck changed, today he found the camper, “Zeph looks like our ship has come in.  You gotta clean your ass up first or that pair will shoot your for a chomper before you get close.”

Okay Crystal what do you have on your mind?”, Mac inquired.

“This isn't an easy situation for me, but Tobin and I agree it is for the best.  I need to step down as captain of our militia.”, Crystal replied.

“Whoa, that there is a big announcement.  I think we should talk this over a bit.”, Bob Ryker exclaimed.

“Bob, there isn't really a lot to discuss.  Despite all my precautions I'm pregnant.  The dangers of the militia puts my child at too much risk.”, Crystal retorted.

“Crystal let me be the first to congratulate you.”, said Mac.