When the Dead Rise (Book 1): The Beginning (18 page)

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Authors: C.M. Fick

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

BOOK: When the Dead Rise (Book 1): The Beginning
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Everyone nodded their agreement and began to disperse throughout the house, searching for items they would need in the future.

Ron rubbed his hand over his face and Ruth walked to her husband's side. "We'll make it," she said, squeezing his hand. "We have to believe that we'll survive and that others will as well. The army may not be able to stop them and life may never be the same again, but we'll adjust and make a new life."

Ron looked into Ruth's eyes, smiling weakly. "I hope you're right Ruth." He leaned down and gently kissed the top of her head. "I hope you're right."

 

Volume 8: Black Horizon

Workday's end...

The excavator rumbled to a stop and Aisha killed the engine. She'd put in her twelve hours for the day and was looking forward to returning to her motel room with a bag of greasy takeout. She couldn't wait to take a steaming hot shower, call her mom and veg in front of the TV with a beer or two before heading to bed; she was exhausted.

She climbed down from the excavator, closing the door firmly behind her. "Hey Aisha," Rudy called from his truck, waving her over.

Aisha pulled off her hardhat, tucking it under her arm. Jogging towards her co-worker, she smiled brightly. "Hey Rudy, packing it in for the night?"

"Yup," Rudy nodded with a chuckle. He leaned out of his truck and ruffled the top of Aisha's hair. "Parts of your bangs were sticking straight up." They laughed as she raked her fingers through the sweaty, tangled mess.

During her first week, most of the men had barely spoken to her but not Rudy. He'd treated Aisha like a little sister right from the start. Being the only woman on a road-crew, she'd started work knowing there would be comments and jibes; Rudy was never a contributor. In the beginning, the macho men teased her about how a woman should be taking care of her home and family. Rudy just told the men to shut their mouths and pay attention, that the farm girl could teach them all a thing or two about driving. Most of the jokes were good-natured, but a few men still didn't like the fact that a woman worked on their site - doing a job that was perceived as 'men's work'. Rudy just flipped them off, reminding Aisha that she'd proven her adeptness and put them all to shame. How she shouldn't worry about the chauvinist pigs who gave all men a bad rep; that most of them accepted her as part of the crew. He was a good guy and someone she was proud to call a friend.

"What are your plans for tonight?" Aisha leaned against the truck and closed her eyes. A breeze blew in from the west, cooling her skin. There was a strange, faint odour in the air.
Smells a little like the composers back home,
she thought, dismissing it as quickly as the thought came.

"We're headed back to the motel to get cleaned up, and then a bunch of us are headed to T.G.I. Friday's for some grub and a few beers; wanna join us?"

Aisha shook her head. "No, I'm staying in tonight. I need to call my mom and see how she's doing, so I figured I'd just grab something and eat in my room."

Nodding in understanding, Rudy's gaze drifted over the site. "Less than a month left here. Boss said we're starting the paving next week and then from there it's just the little things left." His green eyes slid back to her. "He mentioned the next job is in Missouri but doesn't start until mid-June. Are you going to head home for a few weeks to visit your mom? Make sure that farmhand you hired isn't taking advantage of her?"

Aisha wasn't native to Texas; she'd been raised on a farm in Iowa and her mother still lived in the old farmhouse she'd grown up in. She shook her head, "I don't know if I can handle three weeks on the farm. She says Sven is doing a great job so I'll trust her judgement on that. She did mention needing one of the tractors fixed so I may stop in for a few days to take care of it, but that's all I can take." Uncomfortable with the turn in conversation, Aisha patted the side of the truck, "Well, I'm headed back to my room Rudy. Tell the others I'm sorry I couldn't make it and to have a good night." Rudy waved as he put the truck into drive and rolled away.

Aisha stood gazing down the empty highway, lost in thought. She'd left home close to fifteen years earlier and the prospect of going back left a queasy, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. When she'd been fifteen, her father and older brother had been in a fatal car accident. With their deaths, her mother had become a different woman. Once cheerful and warm-hearted, Aisha's mother became closed-off and bitter, ever mourning the loss of her husband and eldest child. Turning the farmhouse into a shrine for the dead, Aisha's mother withdrew, leaving her to fend for herself. By her eighteenth birthday, Aisha knew she had to leave - get out of the oppressive atmosphere of the home she'd grown up in, but with limited skills outside of the farm, she found herself driving for a road construction crew.

Aisha turned towards her SUV, ready to head to her motel and saw Saul, the sites supervisor, running back to the trailer he used as an office. She didn't think she'd ever seen the large man move so fast. In the distance, Aisha heard the telltale whump whump whump of a helicopter and the rumble of large trucks approaching on the highway. Considering how light the traffic on the I10 had been over the past several weeks, and the sketchy reports from San Antonio about the oil spill, a bad feeling crept into Aisha's gut. She adjusted her heading, turning away from her SUV and towards Saul's office, unsure of why she felt so uneasy.

"... not sure how long they'll need the crew for, but they say it's a matter of urgency" Saul was saying as Aisha made her way up the three steps to the open trailer door. "No, I don't think they'll be covering the OT." There was a long pause, causing Aisha stop at the top step. "No, I don't know what the emergency is, he wouldn't tell me over the phone." Another pause, "As soon as the work is done, the crew's free to leave again." Saul let out a long gusty sigh. "It will put the job behind by a day at least and no, they won't be reimbursing us for that either." Aisha shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with her eavesdropping. She turned to go back down the steps but stopped when Saul shouted, "Either we do it or they use our machines to do it and personally, I'd prefer a few of my own driving. We aren't being given much of a choice here."

The rumble from the highway grew louder. Aisha quietly made her way back down the steps and around the corner of the trailer; the six covered army trucks rolling to a stop just outside of the construction zone made her stop abruptly. A helicopter flew overhead but continued west, following the highway. What was going on? Aisha had a sinking feeling her plans for the evening were about to change.

The army's orders...

"Aisha! Thank God you're still here," Saul said from the doorway of his trailer.

"What's going on?" she asked, turning to her supervisor. His face was pale and drawn; now she regretted lingering on the site past shift's end.

The supervisor wiped his brow with a hanky before stuffing it into his back pocket. "I need you to get at least five others back to the site - more if they'll agree to come." He waddled down the steps, hurrying as fast as a large man could towards her. "Tell them that anyone who agrees to work for a few extra hours will be paid overtime. That they are not to ask questions nor are they to disturb the army personnel. They are only to do as asked."

"What are we supposed to be doing?"

Saul glanced behind Aisha before responding, "We need to move all the concrete barriers. Stack them in a wall beneath the overpass to barricade the way through."

Aisha felt her mouth fall open. "The ones surrounding the site? What about traffic trying to get through? Will we be paid overtime to take down the barrier once the army's done?"

Saul's face tightened. "Yes the one's surrounding the site and as for the traffic," he pointed to the empty westbound lane of the I10, "when was the last time you saw a car headed in or out of Houston?" He turned away, walking towards the waiting army trucks.

"What am I supposed to tell the guys when they have questions?" She yelled after him. She hadn't agreed to stay or work the OT he was offering; the extra money, however, would be nice come payday and she was already onsite.

"Tell them they aren't to ask questions if they want the overtime pay. The address book with everyone's contact info is on my desk," he called to Aisha without looking back.

Stomping back up the steps of the trailer, Aisha grumbled to herself. Saul didn't understand what he was asking. Dragging the concrete barriers to beneath the overpass wasn't going to be a simple task, not to mention the extra work that would have to be done the following day to get the site back as it was. Riffling through the scattered papers on the desk, Aisha finally found the spiral notebook Saul mentioned. It listed everyone's room, their cell phone numbers and emergency contact info.

She picked up the phone and dialed Rudy. After telling him what little she knew, he promised to round up the guys and be back to the site within the next fifteen minutes. She'd just hung up the phone when a short man in a pristine uniform marched in; for someone so small, he had a big voice.

"This will be command. We'll have several units stationed on the overpass with the heavy artillery and two units beneath. We'll need..." Looking up, he was momentarily silenced by Aisha's presence. He recovered quickly, removing his hat and extending his hand in greeting. "I'm Lieutenant Howard and this is Staff Sergeant Jenkins." He indicated the tall dark-skinned man standing rigidly behind him. "You must be the one who'll be operating the excavator; Saul mentioned that the best operator he had was a woman."

Aisha bristled at the skeptical look Staff Sergeant Jenkins gave her - she tried to ignore it as she shook the Lieutenant's hand. "I'm Aisha."

He smiled brightly, but Aisha could see his underlying fear. It concerned her. "I'll need someone directing the others when they get here. Can I trust that you'll be able to coordinate with Sergeant Jenkins and your co-workers to complete the task? I have other duties to tend to and will be unable to provide the appropriate direction."

Aisha looked to Jenkins, who appeared to be displeased with the turn in events. "If we can get radios then I can coordinate them." She said with a shrug, inwardly pleased with the scowl on Jenkins’ face.

"Sergeant Jenkins will see to it that you have everything you need to get this done ASAP," he said with a distracted wave of his hand. Jenkins nodded to someone outside beyond Aisha's line of sight, and within moments, the trailer was filled with men carrying armloads of radios, wires and maps.

"Let's step outside," Jenkins said coolly, motioning out the open trailer door.

Aisha walked out, noticing the helicopter was back and attempting to land on the overpass. A man knelt on top of the trailer, inserting wires into a small mobile satellite antenna. Soldiers moved about with purpose both on top and beneath the bridge, carrying large black containers from the trucks. She noticed several mortars in the process of being assembled. It was beginning to look more like a warzone than a construction zone...
What is all the fuss about?

"What we need from you guys," Jenkins said as they moved away from the trailer, "is to move the concrete barriers lining the highway and stack them on the west side of the bridge. We want it to enclose the area beneath the bridge but also allow for periodic openings, only wide enough for my men to shoot through."

Frowning, Aisha turned to face Jenkins. "So you want it blocked off so your men are safe, but still want to be able to shoot whatever's on the other side. What are you expecting... an army of undead?" She laughed but Jenkins’ face grew stonier.

"No questions," he replied curtly, moving towards Aisha's excavator. "Is this thing fueled?"

"It has enough to get the job done," she snapped, flinging the door open. "I'll get it into place, but I can't start getting the medians moved until the others arrive; I'll need two chains and a radio..." she paused, glancing over Jenkins’ shoulder to the growing number of canvas covered trucks. "You guys don't happen to have a proper crane in one of those trucks, do you? Because if you do, this will go a lot faster."

A small smile flickered across Jenkins’ lips, "I'll make sure you have what you need."

Aisha climbed over the tracks and into the cab with ease. The engine rumbled to life and after a quick check of the controls, she turned back to Jenkins; the sergeant wore a look of surprise as he watched her. "What?" she shouted over the engine's rumble, knowing full well that the sergeant's surprise was due to her comfort with the large machine.

"Nothing," he shook his head, "do you need anything else in the meantime?"

"Just have one of the guys flag me down once they're all here and I'll give everyone their tasks."

With a nod, Jenkins turned and walked away.

Aisha's crew assembled around her less than fifteen minutes later. After moving the excavator into place, she'd switched to the forklift in order to get started immediately, but it was slow going since the lift could only carry one median at a time. In order to properly secure the area beneath the bridge, Aisha calculated the span and height of the overpass, deciding that a minimum of one hundred and thirty four medians were needed to complete the barricade. Stacking them three high would give the soldiers almost eight feet of protection against whatever they were preparing to face, but this also meant they had to ensure the barriers stability as they built it.

"Kev," Aisha said as she hurried over to the huddled group of men, surprised that Rudy had been able to round up so many with such short notice. Noticing a pile of heavy chains and box of radio's sitting at Rudy's feet, Aisha spoke to the group. "Everyone grab a radio; this is how we'll make sure everything goes smoothly." They handed out the radios, turning back to Aisha in silence. Used to the men giving her a hard time when she asked them to do anything, their sudden rapt attention unnerved her; never had they looked to her for direction. "Kev," she said again, turning to the young man.

"What's up?" Kev, the newest member of the crew said, fiddling with one of the handheld radios.

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