Chapter Twenty-Three

Time for some adventure!

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

 

Cappy sat with his feet propped atop his table.  His long legs bridged the space needed to walk from one computer to the other.  They were running their electronic devices on DC batteries, like the truckers did.  Fetch hipped them to the trick, since that’s what they used in their rigs.  Since they had an ample supply of auto batteries outside, they nabbed a few, connected them to converters and viola!

 

Computer A allowed them to view topside with the few security cameras hidden about the area.  Computer B allowed them to speak to Defense and their mobile unit across the wide space of the Visitors Center.  None of the fighters were military or even ex-military but their plan worked for them. They were doing pretty well on their own devices.

 

When Bixby tapped on the plexiglass, Cappy snapped to his feet and slapped him on the back.  “Bix!  Glad you made it!”  He glanced down at his wristwatch.  “And early too!”

 

“Yeah”, Bixby responded.  He hated to be called Bix, like some hound but you can’t tell something like that to Cappy.  He would instinctively press it if you argued it. 

 

“You going out today?”

“You got a mission?”

“Honestly, nope.  We do need a few things but we haven’t seen a survivor or a zombie for days now.  It seems like they’ve cleared the area.  You can go out to see if the coast is clear for a while, if you’re looking for something to do.”

“I heard that we’re going to need more water.  Batteries and a few more lanterns could help.”

 

Cappy listened while stretching at his station.  Sitting with him was Glenn Wellingsly and Terry Mason.  Both were young, in their late teens and anxious to go out on patrol but were awarded with guard duty instead.  One day Bixby would have them out- on a day when nothing was going on.  A mission with newby’s was a mission looking to be botched.

 

“I’m taking Dub and maybe one more to grab a few things from the hardware store on Choteau and Broadway.”

 

Cappy shook his head while looking at the monitor panning the area.  There was nothing but he wasn’t about to let Bixby out without being sure.  Every time they left and returned there was a chance of being spotted by those things.

 

“It seem pretty safe and like I said, we haven’t seen anything for a few days.  Why don’t you take Glenn here?”

 

Glenn’s head popped up like a dog’s ears when pricked with sound.  He turned and smiled at Bixby, trying to win him over.  Roland groaned expressing his disapproval but Glenn was quickly to his feet, pleading to be added to the trip.

 

“Come on Bixby, you never take me!”

“He doesn’t take me either”, snarled Terry.

“You don’t count, you’re younger than me!”

“So!”

“Boys, boys, please don’t fuss.  It’s annoying!”  Cappy looked back to Roland and said, “It’s your call Bix.”

           

“Please, please, please, please, please…”  Glenn begged.

“Fine,” Bixby sighed.  “Get your things and be ready in ten!”

“I’m on it”, Glenn sang while clearing his area.  As he headed to the theater where his belongings were stashed he called out, “Thanks Bixby, I won’t let you down!”  Then he was gone.

 

Bixby dropped into Glenn’s vacant chair.  “I hope I don’t regret this.”

Cappy laughed.  “You won’t.  He’s a good kid.  You taking the Jeep or going the bus?”

 

Bixby thought for a moment and decided on the Jeep.  “I think that if we’re lucky, we can make a quick ‘in and out’ of it all and get more water tanks.  Be back before sunset if we’re lucky.”

 

“You just be careful with the Jeep.  It’s been making a few squeaks and such.  We think it’s the belt but haven’t had a chance to work on it.  Every time we go out, the zombies hit us.  We only have one mechanic and can’t lose him to a belt change.  Just watch out.  Sound attracts them; that squeak will be like ringing their dinner bell.”

“Got it.  I’ll keep in touch.”

 

Cappy handed Bixby two walkies.  “Good luck out there Bix.”

 

∞

 

 

Dub, Glenn and Bixby unlocked the glass doors and covertly moved their shrubbery board aside.  Once the three were clear, they locked the doors, put the boards back in place and headed to ground level.

 

They began making their way to the jeep while looking out for dead walkers .  They ran at a crouch to slip behind some bushes.  Ten feet away was the hard-topped Jeep Wrangler.  It was hidden in a large, man-made carport that was covered in bushes, like the Visitor’s Center.

“I’ll hit the ride first.  Once I see the coast is clear, I’ll open the door and wave you over.  Got it?”

“Got it”, they said.

 

“I’m taking the bag.  Keep your eyes open and watch my back.  Dub, you’re Eagle Eye.  Glenn, stay behind Dub and don’t fire unless it’s necesary.”

“Got it.”

 

Bixby carried a 9-mm Beretta Px4 Storm and a .40 Smith & Wesson with many clips.  On his back, he toted a double bit 36: fiberglass axe.  He didn’t like rifles and the automatics were a pain in the noise department.  He left Dub with the Nosler M48 TGR rifle.  It was extremely expensive and one of the best out there, well it used to be.  Bixby didn’t think any guns would be in production for a long time.

 

 It came with a cheap scope but Dub was right on target every time they went out.  If he wanted anyone on his six, Dub was the man.  He trusted him with his life and Dub knew it.

 

Glenn wasn’t very experienced in guns but he was a heck of a hitter!  He carried KD Elite nunchucks!  The boy was a whiz and knocked the heck out of the zombies without breaking a sweat!  When Bixby first saw him in action, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the kid’s fluid movements, ducks and dodges.  He was almost bitten while watching.  Glenn wasn’t a bad fighter but he was easily distracted if there was no action.  He had the potential of being a red shirt in an away team!

 

At a crouch, Bixby ran to the Jeep and stopped beneath the door.  Looking underneath the jeep, he sought out shuffling feet.  They were clear.  He maneuvered to the end then back to the front and saw nothing.  He plucked the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. 

 

Sweat was already beading on his forehead and running down his back.  I must be getting old, he thought as he climbed in and noiselessly shut the door.  He took the opportunity to now glance about at a higher view.  The place seemed deserted.

 

He reached back and unlocked the rear door and waved the guys over.  He watched Dub push Glenn out front and he covered the rear, looking like experience gunmen.  Of course, Glenn didn’t have a gun but they looked cool all the same.

 

Once they were all in, they were in, Bixby started the engine and they headed out.  With any fortune, they’d be back in Archburg before nightfall with plenty of supplies.  All they had to do was be as quiet as they could and not shoot anything without dire reason.

 

 

 

As they approached the city, they noticed there was a bit of activity.  Something seemed to have them a little riled up but he saw nothing.  Normally the bulk of the zombies sat in shadows, almost in a dead, for lack of a better word, state.  They didn’t get up to chase unless they saw something.

 

“What’s up with the walkers?  Aren’t they normally sitting out?”

“Maybe we got them up.  They can hear pretty good you know.  They hear our engine maybe?”  Glenn asked.  Whenever he got nervous, he babbled.

 

“I don’t know Glenn,” said Bixby.  The zombies walked on the outskirts of the city.  It could be they stirred up activity with the jeep.  The belt was making that periodic squeal but not enough to stir up so much trouble.  Or something could be happening beyond their field of vision.

 

Bixby rode on.  The hardware store they were looking for was about three blocks away, across from an old bank building that had been converted to a business building.  Parking sucked in the city, with most of the lots on the western side.  There were tons of ‘one way’ streets and ‘no parking’ signs that annoyed you on a normal day but not today.

 

Civilization was on hiatus and there was parking anywhere a care wasn’t already resting from the sudden attacks.  Bixby drove carefully and prayed under his breath that the belt didn’t give them away. 

 

The eastern side of the street held a narrow alleyway that would be a death wish to be stuck in with the dead.  There were so may parked cars that to maneuver in there would truly be a death wish.  The things would surge up and over your car, making it your casket. 

 

Bixby drove with his eyes peeled for the business building.  He didn’t want to miss it.  It had the largest lot behind it of all the others.  When he spotted the hardware store a block away, he turned early and drove up by weaving through parked vehicles.  When he got behind the building, directly across from the hardware store, he shut down the engine.

 

A few zombies heard the motor and crept from the shadows.  They would be easily dispatched, as long as others didn’t follow.  He looked to his comrades and signaled to the four dead walkers headed their way.  The guys understood.

 

Bixby hopped out and locked the door.  He turned in time to catch a zombie with his arms extended towards his neck.  The poor sap was wearing a light blue gas station shirt with “Bud” cursively stitched across the name patch.  His blonde hair was brown from filth but his face was a nightmare.  It had been  peeled like an orange down one side.

 

The man’s wound beneath his left eye down to his chin was gone, showing very little muscle and a skeletal grin on half his face.  His eyeball was barely sitting in the socket with no skin there to hold it in place.  It lolled to his moaning tune.

 

Bixby quickly swatted the arms away and brought a crow bar across the thing’s face, shifting its cranial bones.  It went down with a brief shudder then lay still.

 

He jogged over to the passenger side of the jeep to see Dub stomp the skull of a dead teen into the pavement.  Glenn took the other two down without them even seeing the action.  He was quick, exactly how Bixby liked it.  They stood a moment to make sure no others were coming and then headed towards the street.

 

The back door to the building was smashed in.  Apparently when a delivery truck tried to get away from the attack, it swerved and pushed two cars and itself into the doorway.  The wall came down a little, allowing no exit.  There were dead bodies strewn about from the incident.  They didn’t rise, eveidently too damaged to walk about.  The birds picked at the soft flesh and then went on their way.  So did the three men.

 

When they reached the halfway mark, Bixby left them and went to the end of the small passageway.  He stole a view to both ends of the street.  It appeared abandoned but those things were crafty when they wanted to be.  He waited a few minutes then made it back to his men.

 

“Okay, here’s the plan.  I’m going to run across the street first.  If it’s still safe, I will signal for the two of you to follow.  Then we’ll head to the back of the store, grab the loot and head back in the same fashion.  Sound good?”

“Got it”, they said.

“Okay, let’s go.”

 

At the end of the alley, Bixby checked the street, ran across and then checked the street again.  He waved his companions over and they headed into the store.  They split up and began seeking out the items on their list.  Bixby pulled his bag from his back pocket and popped in five of the large, flashlights with batteries.  Then he made his way to the water section.  It was the only hardware store that actually had the large five gallon jugs.  They planned on carrying one a piece and then making another trip for three more. 

 

They knew it would be a risky trip but every time they went out, they did the same thing.  One, out of consideration for any other survivors out there and secondly, was to risky.   More than two trips for the water was asking for an attack.  The things out there weren’t stupid.  They knew when the dinner bell was ringing.  And it was greed that got you killed.

 

As gently as they could, they made their way back across the street and loaded the booty in back of the jeep.  When they got back to the store, they grabbed another 5-gallon a piece.  It was then that they heard a commotion.  There were loud moans and hands banging against windows.  Something was happening on a large scale.

 

Glenn and Dub looked to Bixby for  action.  He put his index finger to his lips and set his jug on the floor.  He made his way to the store window and peeked out.  There were about ten zombies crowded around the turnstile of the business building across the way.  And in the turnstile was a woman.  She and another younger girl were holding the turnstile closed, preventing the zombies from spinning their way in. 

 

How in the world did they get in there?  He watched in surprise as the woman shoved a chair into the turnstile, allowing a little movement but no access for the monsters.  They were trapped inside.

 

The woman looked alarmingly at the crowd, understanding their fate.  Bixby waved to her, careful to not attract any attention of his own.  She saw him and made a plea with her eyes that said, help up please!  He turned away from the window and spoke to the guys. 

 

“There’s a problem across the street.”

“Evidently”, whispered Dub.

“There are two women trapped in the building across the way.  There’s about ten of the dead blocking them in.”

“So”, was Glenn’s response.   “We got a job to do.  Others are depending on us.”

“I hear you Glenn but those others were those two women at some point in time.  We have to help them.”

“Man, we’re not heroes, right?  You know that?”

“Yes, but today we’re saving those girls.  They need help and we got it.  Let’s go.”

 

They carried their jugs to the end of the alley that lead to the street.  Bixby instructed them to not fire a shot off unless there was absolutely no other way of escape.  He then got down, pulled his axe from the homemade strap and trotted across the street, into the eye of the zombie storm.

Author's Note

Mind you, these chapters are first draft. I've been rereading lately, changing a things up, adding and taking away. Please tell me what you think and I'll notate!
Thanks!