Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (Book 4): Resolution (38 page)

Wellington’s Squares had never fended off a
cavalry charge as efficiently. The men fired calmly and
deliberately. While one reloaded, he would back himself into their
circle and then reemerge to allow another to do the same. In a
matter of seconds, their dozen or so attackers were all down in the
open parking lot. Satisfied that the danger had passed, the men set
about their work once again.

Mason, his resolve bolstered and afraid that
they might get done and leave without him, shouted to them
tentatively at first, “Heyyy! Heyyyyyyyy!”

He was running across the road before he
realized what he was doing. One of the men heard his voice over the
grumble of the diesel engine and thankfully waved him over.
Arriving breathless but excited to be in the other men’s company,
Mason stood for several wordless seconds while the man who spotted
him spoke with the man in black. Mason was quick to show both of
them the bundle of weapons he was carrying, hoping that perhaps it
would be enough to buy him space in one of the vehicles they would
be driving away from there, although the shotguns and hunting
rifles paled in comparison to the hardware each of the men carried.
Mason was also figuring out that these men weren’t necessarily
military. The two men that appeared to be donning military garb
were actually wearing hunting outfits with military belts and web
gear atop them. If they were military, they weren’t government
military. That didn’t matter to Mason at the moment.

The man dressed in black stepped closer to
him and asked, “Where you comin’ from kid?”

“North. The edge of town but not quite to
Nikiski,” Mason quickly responded.

“Family?”

Mason shrugged his shoulders and was going
to tell the man about his parents’ absence but there was no point.
He shook his head. “I’m all alone.”

“Not anymore.”

Luckily, Mason had joined the militia
shortly after The Fall, as Colonel Bear had taken to calling the
times through which they were living. As a result, he was
considered one of the
Originals
, before
others started to flock to the Ranch. He wasn’t granted any rank of
which to speak, but being part of the core group had its perks.

Somehow, Mason had survived the debacle at
Skyview High School when so many more hadn’t. He was one of the
first to find a spot on the roof of the school. He sat in his perch
and fired his .223 Remington semi-automatic rifle into the
onrushing hordes of undead doing very little to stop or even
discourage them from their onslaught. When the smoke started to
rise up around them, Mason was tempted to find his way down and try
to run away, but then both Colonel Bear and Carter appeared on the
roof.

Order was quickly restored and their
defensive measures became much more effective again. By the time
the sun had arrived again in the morning, they had killed hundreds
of the walking dead; enough so that they could entertain
possibilities of getting back down from the smoldering
building.

That had been just a couple of days earlier,
and now Mason was finding himself walking through the remnants of
another building in the still ruins of another city in Alaska.

Their team worked their way through the
fancy hotel, dispatching the few remaining zombies prior to the
arrival of the balance of the militia. Carter thought to himself
that the Colonel’s arrival was just about perfect. His oversized
Humvee slowed to a stop only a few feet from the Inn’s front
entrance. The big vehicle grumbled and growled, its engine revved
twice before being set to sleep.

The driver’s side door swung open and the
Colonel nearly fell out of his seat as his substantial weight
shifted. His feet reached the pavement and he stood, the
all-terrain vehicle bouncing and shuddering, apparently thankful to
be rid of the Colonel’s girth.

The men with him climbed from the Humvee and
joined the Colonel on the sidewalk. They looked around triumphantly
at their conquest and nodded to one another.

Carter, still sitting in the dining room and
looking out at the Colonel asked Mason, “Did you get the red carpet
ready?”

Not adept enough to differentiate between
when Carter was being serious or kidding, Mason was concerned that
he had neglected to fulfill one of Carter’s orders. Carter’s smile
and the sinister sneer coiling in his eyes convinced Mason
otherwise.

When Colonel Bear entered the Inn, Carter
didn’t bother to stand. He did announce that the hotel was cleared
more or less, and that there were ample rooms available upstairs
for all of them to get a good night’s rest. He lifted the now half
empty bottle of Jameson. “And lucky for us, the bar is open.”

Raising his eyebrows questioningly, the
Colonel asked, “D’you think that’s a good idea?”

Carter poured another glass for himself
before he responded. “You’re prob’ly right. We should stay sharp.”
He tipped the glass into his mouth. “This shit could really take
our edge off and rot our brains.” He poured another glass
purposefully.

Not acknowledging Carter’s insubordination,
Colonel Bear said, “Make sure we have pickets posted and they stay
sober. You and your men did a good job getting us here. Why don’t
all of you take some time to rest first? Do please find me after
I’ve gotten settled to give me a full report.”

Sensing that he had poked the bear a little
too much, Carter stood and snapped to attention, with not the
slightest hint of disrespect as he stood there as rigid as a board
waiting for the Colonel to release him.

The Colonel thought to himself,
Now
that’s
better
. That was what he expected from his troops,
especially his primary lieutenant. He returned Carter’s salute and
then walked away.

The cars were parked along the narrow street
immediately in front of the Inn and guards were posted to keep
watch. They needed the vehicles so that they could stay mobile.
They couldn’t afford to be without transportation. They only had
six vehicles with them including the camper, which was parked
behind the Colonel’s Humvee. Using the camper’s roof as an elevated
guard platform, they kept a watchful eye over everything without
having anyone in any significant peril.

The city was quiet but not quite peaceful. A
menacing presence found its way into the darker shadows and lurked
just out of sight. The men standing watch could feel it like
piercing eyes upon them.

The Inn’s walls held the presence at bay but
peace was still an elusive thing. Seeking his own shelter, Carter
was happy to find another bottle of Jameson tucked under the bar.
He selected a basic room on the second floor that hadn’t been used
recently and still had its bedding tucked neatly into its corners
and turned down like it was waiting for him. He retired for a bit
of a rest while the tasks of preparing the hotel for the night were
done according to his instructions. He sat in a chair and held the
television remote pretending to surf through channels and finally
settling on a program of his choosing. He poured several glasses of
whiskey before the first knock on his door. When he stood to
answer, his legs felt a little wobbly, enough so that he had to
pause for a moment to steady his balance. He also noticed the
creeping buzz from the alcohol and lack of food. He lit a cigarette
and took his time crossing the room.

The Colonel huffed in irritation when Carter
finally answered the door. He spilled into Carter’s room, filling
it with his strong breath and persistent body odor. He filled the
chair in which Carter had been sitting.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” He
said loudly. He lifted up the glass Carter had been using and
finished the whiskey already in it, refilling it afterward and
drinking that as well. He looked at the room. “You picked out a
nice place. Is it solid? Can we defend it?”

Carter went to one of the windows and opened
it to let in a breeze and some fresh air, which reeked of the sea.
Trying to decide which stench her preferred, Carter elected to keep
the window open for the moment. “We only have to worry about any of
that if we plan on being here more than just tonight. What is the
plan, sir?”

“Listen, I put up with your attitude
downstairs and in general for the past few days, but it’s gotta
stop. Do you understand me?” the Colonel said. “I just asked you a
question and expect it to be answered.”

The alcohol must have been doing its job,
because Carter felt immensely relaxed and peaceful when he
answered, “Sorry, sir. I think it’s just...I think Sullivan’s death
is still...well...” It may have been just an excuse for his
behavior, but Carter did think that he was being especially
difficult with everyone since he found out Sullivan had been
murdered in cold blood.

The Colonel was enjoying the young man’s
contrition. When the Colonel next spoke, he used a voice that he
reserved for only the most serious of talks. It was a voice and a
tone that Carter rarely saw. “Those shits who came into our home
and killed our brother are here. I can feel it like I’ve never felt
anything. And as God as my witness, I shall exact vengeance upon
them for their transgressions. They shall pay for their sins. We
will be here for as long as that takes. Understood?”

Carter nodded.

“We’ll set up headquarters here in the hotel
and then find those sons of bitches.”

“I don’t think there is anything to worry
about in this place,” Carter said. “It’s taller than all the
buildings around it and it’s got a great view of all its
approaches. It’s got no blind corners and we’ve got roof access. We
have the local high ground. The building has been swept but I think
it would be wise that no one goes anywhere alone.” Sensing the
Colonel’s doubt, Carter added, “I understand all of what you said
and I completely agree with you. We need to get those bastards. But
still...we shouldn’t need to stay here for long and it had a pretty
decently stocked bar. I figured we would keep everyone happy if
they had a buzz. We stay the night and then we go back to the Ranch
tomorrow maybe after we find and kill those fucks. This is just
temporary. Right? We’re not planning on staying here for too long,
are we?”

The Colonel sat in thought for a few
seconds. He was not thinking about any of Carter’s questions. He
was trying to figure out how to best find the sons of bitches he
was hunting. He had a hard time thinking about anything else at
present, which was unusual for him. In his former legal practice,
he needed to be able to predict the opposition’s plays before they
made them. He needed to be nimble in his thoughts and his
responses.

Colonel Bear was feeling clouded and
confused. He was thankful Carter seemed to have things well in
hand. He wanted to listen to all Carter had said, but found
following his answers too much of a chore. He trusted Carter’s
judgment and decided it was time for him to find his own
accommodations at the fine establishment at which they would be
retiring for the evening.

He poured another glass of liquor and then
struggled his way out of the chair, moving back and forth to give
himself leverage to rise. Finally on his feet and out of breath,
the Colonel finished the glass of whiskey and then walked out
without a word.

When the Colonel departed, his odor remained
much longer than Carter was willing to accept. Finally deciding
that it was the chair in which the Colonel had been sitting, he
made up his mind to move it out of his room. He wheeled it through
his door and to the hallway. That didn’t suit his intentions
either, so he pushed the chair down the length of the hallway and
hurled it down the staircase.

The chair’s landing was anything but
climactic to him. He’d hoped the chair would explode with a loud
crash and pieces flying in every direction. Instead, the chair hit
the floor with the crash he wanted but it bounced across the lower
hall and out of sight, causing a stir with the people standing down
in the lobby keeping watch and gathered around the fire for heat.
Three pairs of eyes peered around the wall and up at the source of
the disturbance.

Carter silently met the accusing,
reproachful eyes with his own cold glare. He shook his head in
disgust and then turned on his heels to go back to his room.

With two more drinks in his system and
boredom starting to creep its way into his mood, Carter staggered
across his room to answer the door when there came another knock.
When he opened the door, Kit was standing in the hall. She held up
another bottle of something he didn’t recognize and opened her
jacket to reveal her bare chest.

Kit was a little older than Carter and not
the most beautiful woman, but she was in great shape and more than
willing for some adult entertainment. He stepped aside and let her
join him. It would make his increasingly unwilling stay in Whittier
a little more tolerable and help pass the time. It had been a
little while since he had last been with a woman and the prospect
of that kind of action elevated more than just his mood.

More than an hour into his indulgence of the
flesh, Carter was interrupted again with another knock to his door.
He contemplated ignoring it and staying atop Kit, but the knocking
became more desperate.

“I’m not done yet, for Christ’s sake!”
Carter growled.

Kit positioned herself to accommodate
Carter’s new angle but she was becoming increasingly less
comfortable and disinterested. She smiled up at Carter with the
clear signal of
I’m
done
written on her expression. She pulled one of the
pillows from behind her head and laid it across her bare chest,
which glistened with sweat, some of hers and a lot of his, despite
the cooler temperature in the room.