Z14 (Zombie Rules) (39 page)

We drove up to the remnants of the Captain’s infamous compound. The trailer was still standing, but the siding was charred
and melted. There were fresh graves in the far back corner of the yard. George must have buried them, but he did not mark them. Looking at the farmhouse in full daylight gave it a different perspective. The yard was large, muddy, and without a hint of grass left. The fields behind the house had cattle peacefully grazing. There were garden plots fenced off. The barn had a fresh coat of whitewash. The tanker was parked beside it. I pointed it out to Rowdy and we looked in it. It was about one-quarter full, maybe a hundred gallons.

             
“I guess it’s a bit ironic, but the tankers are what brought us together.” I said and told Rowdy about Operation Gas. His eyes lit up.

             
“I heard you guys that night! I thought it was thunder at first. I was going to try to run out and find you guys, but I was too damned scared y’all were unfriendly or would mistake me for a zombie and shoot my ass.”

             
“They used the bus.” I said, pointing at the burned out hull of the bus. “They were shooting at everything they saw, so yeah, it was probably best you stayed put.” I peered closely at the two M60 machine guns.

             
“Let’s take those bad boys home with us. Howard may be able to restore them.” I said. Rowdy agreed. We got soot all over us, but we got them dismounted and strapped down in the back of the truck. Hooking up the trailer was a little more challenging. The wheels had sunk down in the soft ground and we ultimately had to dig them out. By the time we got back on the road, the sun was setting.

             
“I surely don’t want to be out here after dark.” Rowdy said.

             
“We’re okay. The hardware cloth is effective in keeping those things out, and I have some night vision equipment I can use to drive with.” I slapped the steering wheel.

             
“What’s wrong?” Rowdy asked as I reached over and turned the radio on, and then figured it out. “Oh, we forgot to call the girls.” He said. I nodded in agreement as I tried to reach them. There was no answer.

             
“We may be out of range. It’ll be the excuse we’ll use anyway, right?” I looked at Rowdy pointedly. He chuckled.

             
“I’m game. I don’t want to catch hell from them either.” We sealed our conspiratorial lie with a fist bump.

              Sarah was still feeling the pangs of fatigue. Flying a plane like the C130 was no easy task, especially when one had to do it without a co-pilot or flight engineer. Nevertheless, she flew expertly and had Tinker in sight within a minute of her flight plan. She switched the radio frequency to Tinker approach and tried calling them. She repeated it several times, but there was no response. She switched back over to the intercom where all of them could hear.

             
“There may a problem. Nobody is responding on Tinker approach frequency. I’m switching to Tinker guard.” She saw Fred looking perplexed. “It’s the emergency frequency. Do me a favor and make a continuous visual scan for any other aircraft flying nearby.” Fred nodded as she switched frequencies and adjusted the flaps. She switched back a minute later.

             
“It’s no good. Nobody is answering. Alright people, I don’t like it, but we’re going to land. Let’s hope there isn’t something going on that’ll get us killed.”

             
Fred felt the landing gear being lowered and he watched as Sarah increased the flaps. Watching the large aircraft descend from the vantage point of the cockpit was somewhat unnerving to Fred, but he kept a poker face. Besides, he was having an increasing level of respect for Sarah’s skills as a pilot, as evidenced by her perfect three-point landing. She reversed thrust on the engines and the plane slowed dramatically. When they had slowed sufficiently, Sarah killed the reverse thrust of the engines and taxied to a stop on the runway.

             
“It’s too risky taxiing this bird around on the tarmac without a ground guide. We’ll park it here and worry about it later.” She said in explanation. After shutting the engines down, they exited out of the rear ramp door. There was nobody waiting to greet them.

             
“There’s something wrong.” Sarah said under her breath. Sergeant Fandis jogged out with the wheel chocks and put them in place while Airman Smith stood guard with her M4 at the ready. The air base was eerily quiet.

             
“Let’s unload the Humvee and drive over to the General’s office. The four of them quickly unlashed the military vehicle from its lashings. Fred climbed in back and scanned the area. There was no movement, no sound, other than some birds chirping. Sergeant Fandis drove quickly to the squat office building which housed the command staff of Tinker. The door to his office was open. The room was dark, with the exception of the daylight shining through the dirty windows. There was someone sitting in the General’s chair. It wasn’t General Shoemaker though. It was the Master Sergeant, the General’s aide. He swiveled in the chair as we walked in. He gave a halfhearted salute to Sarah. His crisp uniform was soiled and he had not shaved.

             
“Sergeant, report!” She said crisply. The Master Sergeant stood slowly and assumed a loose parade rest position.

             
“Well, Major, there has been a few changes since you left.”

             
“Where is General Shoemaker?” She asked.

             
He turned and pointed. “He’s right out there ma’am. Do you see him?” They looked where he was pointing. Sarah was the first one to see the simple cross stuck into the ground of freshly turned dirt, and gasped.

             
“I buried him beside the flagpole. I think he would have liked my choice. What do you think Major? Should I have buried him in a cemetery instead? Or should I have burned him?”

             
“What happened?” Sabrina asked. The Master Sergeant looked at her as if it were the first time he had ever laid eyes on her.

             
“He shot himself in the head. Right here in this very chair. It happened about an hour after you left.” He said quietly and sat back down. “There’s nothing to worry about Major. I cleaned everything up and filed a report indicating his weapon accidentally discharged as he was storing it.”

             
“Where is everyone else?” Sergeant Fandis asked.

             
“I tried to talk to them, but they had their own ideas. As far as I know, everyone has left. Curious though, where does one go when they leave? There is nowhere to go to, not anymore.” The Master Sergeant swiveled in the chair and resumed staring out the window, much like General Shoemaker had done the day before.

              With the aid of a Coleman lantern, Fred took a cold shower in the windowless gym locker room. Sergeant Fandis said they occasionally had hot water, but not today. Cold water notwithstanding, Fred enjoyed washing the accumulation of a few days of grime off of him. Per the sergeant’s advice, he also took advantage of the laundry room while they still had running water. He was sitting in a plastic chair in front of the dryer wrapped in a towel watching the dryer turn round and round, when Sarah walked in. She had battle dress utility pants on and a black tee shirt with a military logo on it.

             
“Well, well, cowboy, looks like you’ve run out of clean things to wear.” She teased. Fred suddenly felt self-conscious. He remembered his first meeting with Sarah and her six-pack abs. He self-consciously sucked in his gut.

             
“I figured I’d get everything washed before heading out.” He said.

             
“When are you leaving?” She asked.

             
“First thing in the morning.”

             
“You could stay here.” She said after a moment.

             
“You could go with me.” Fred responded.

             
She jutted her jaw out. “My place is here. There are millions of dollars in assets here. I cannot simply abandon them.”

             
Fred nodded. “Your sense of duty is admirable, but there’s nothing left here for you, Sarah. The two love birds have been talking about leaving. The only one left is that Master Sergeant, and who knows how long it’ll be before he completely goes off the deep end.”

             
“I can’t simply abandon my career, Fred.” She said plaintively. Fred understood her position. He found himself attracted to Sarah and he was torn. They sat together in silence. Fred looked at Sarah. He leaned over to kiss her, but was startled by the dryer’s buzzer going off.

             
“Your clothes are dry cowboy. You better get them out before they wrinkle.” They stared at each other a moment longer, then Sarah abruptly stood and walked out. She walked back in right about the time Fred had dropped the towel and was starting to put on a clean pair of underwear.

             
“Listen up cowboy. Do you know how risky it is to land a large airplane on an unmanned and unsecured airstrip? I stuck my neck out for you and I have no idea why. I guess you struck a soft spot with me when you told me what your mission was. But now I need help, and I’m asking you to help me.”

             
“I have a question for you.” Fred said quietly. Sarah stared into his eyes. “Is Major Fowkes asking me, or is Sarah asking?”

             
Sarah took a step closer. “Would it be okay if I said both?”

             
Fred nodded. “Fair enough, I’ll give you a week, and then we’ll have this discussion again.”

             
Sarah nodded gratefully. “Thank you.” She turned to go, but stopped. “Did your cowboy friends give you a nickname like Bull, or Horse, or Big Tex, anything like that?”

             
Fred frowned. “No, just Fred. Why?”

             
Sarah glanced at Fred’s crotch. “Surprising.” She said and walked out of the laundry room.

             
Fred felt his cheeks redden as he hurriedly pulled on his underwear and finished dressing.

             
Little did he know his promise of one week would turn into seven months.

             
I could see the light of candles through the windows as we drove up. I made a mental note to get the girls to sew some blackout curtains as soon as was feasible. Julie opened the door as we parked and trotted up. She seemed upset and hugged me immediately.

             
“What’s wrong?” I asked.

             
“It’s Bernie. Andie and I went to check on him. He was dead in his bed. He’d been there a while, Zach. We should have checked on him more often.” She said with her voice cracking. She hugged me again and held me.

             
“It’s okay love. It’s okay.” I said, trying to comfort her. She was right though, we should have checked on him more often. It was another item to add to my list of regrets.

             
We ate a late dinner while Julie and I described Bernie. Rowdy howled with laughter when we told the story of Fred’s encounter with him and the fixation with women’s panties.

             
“Did you tell Howard and Lashonda?” I asked. Julie nodded.

             
“We went and got Howard. He buried Bernie behind his house.” She saw me frown, and clarified. “Behind Bernie’s house, not Howard’s house.” She sighed and wiped her eyes. “He was quirky as all get out, but he was a good person. Kind of like a crazy family uncle who spent some time at the nervous hospital.”

             
Our new bedroom was the master bedroom located in the back corner. The bed was a king size, with an elegant walnut frame in a canopy style. We’d be able to hang mosquito netting off of the frame, which would be nice. The sheets were clean, although the house still had a little bit of a musty odor. I gave Julie a back massage while we talked. She occasionally gave a moan of pleasure, which encouraged me to keep massaging.

             
“That feels wonderful. I had no business digging a grave while pregnant.” She said.

             
“You did what you thought was right.” I replied. “But you’re going to have to limit yourself to light physical activity. We want a healthy baby boy.”

             
“Listen to you. Maybe it’ll be a baby girl.” Julie retorted.

             
“Either way, I want our baby healthy.” Julie agreed with a pleasing moan.

             
“Did Rowdy say anything about Andie?” She whispered.

             
“Yeah, at the moment he sees her more as a skinny little girl than a romantic partner. I think his brain is still messed up a little bit from practically being in solitary confinement. It’ll take time. What did she say?”