Forget The Zombies (Book 2): Forget Texas (3 page)

“How would you get anywhere?” I asked, breaking out his trip down memory lane. “You know there’s nothing around for miles.”

It was his turn to give me a puzzled look. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”

I let some thoughts percolate for a moment as he tried to muddle his way through how he would make it across the vast wasteland around us.

I finally worked out a decision and asked him, “What’s your soldier friend’s name and when is he on duty?”

It took a hell of a lot of convincing, but the clincher was the almost constant sound of gunfire from the south. I also pointed out the increased activity around the camp. Bill still didn’t buy in fully, but said he play along. At least for now.

I gathered our merry little band and we headed toward the northernmost guard station. Jay insisted that his lady, Jane, and his buddy Huck come along. He said he wouldn’t make the introduction with his guard friend if they weren’t included the departing group.

Jay and Huck were a contradiction in almost every way. While Jay was lanky and long, Max was big and wide. Where Jay was laid back, Huck was jittery and nervous, almost furtive in his actions, his eyes deep set and hooded. The ‘Lady Jane’ wasn’t anything I expected either. I pictured Jay with Rastafarian princess, but she was as button down as the come. While she wasn’t in a business suit, there was something formal about her attire and demeanor. And she wasn’t hard on the eyes. Her jet black hair was cut short with a slight wave, sometimes falling and covering her penetrating aquamarine eyes.

Mack took an instant disliking to Jay, but it was to be expected. If it wasn’t straight arrow and right of center, Mack didn’t like it. Not at all.

“Just keep it cool, guys,” Jay said as we approached the guard checkpoint.

“Cool my ass,” Bill said. “We’re perfectly safe in the camp.”

Mack did a complete reversal and sided with Bill and said, “Grant, what are we doing with these bozos?”

“Mack, we’ve been over this,” I said, “Things may be safe now, but it seems like they won’t be for long.”

“And old dude,” Huck said getting in Mack’s face, “don’t call us bozos.”

“What kind of name is Huck?” Mack said, every bit as confrontational as Huck.

“It comes from literature. You ever read a book?” Huck asked.

They faced off like two bulls painted red and the paint was really gasoline.

“Boys, boys,” Joni said stepping between them, “let’s take it down a notch.”

“Yeah, Huck, dial it back,” Jane said, looking southward. “We could have bigger problems than your fragile male ego.”

Mack and Huck eased back a little as they parted. Huck looked a little more bruised from Jane’s comment, though.

“Which one’s your guy?” I asked Jay as I peered past the stacks of sandbags topped with razor wire. The guard towers sat inside a fence that separated it from the rest the camp like a small guarded encampment within the bigger camp. The entire complex was surrounded with barbed wire fences — some electrified, some not. Well-marked landmines lay around the perimeter, too. Zombies couldn’t read, so that was one thing worked in our favor. More than a few had wandered into the minefield and been blown to smithereens. There was nothing quite like having zombie parts rain down all over you when one of them stepped on a mine.

“That’s him there,” Jay said pointing at a solid looking guy standing next to a guard tower.

“What’s the play, Jay?” I said, trying to keep things loose.

“You a poet?” He asked in all seriousness.

“No,” I said.

“Really? You have a way with words. That rhyming thing was nice.” I could see him working with the rhyming of Jay and play and watched as he silently mouthed each word. Jay, play, ray, say, gay, may…I decided it had break it up.

“So, are you going to go to him or get his attention somehow?” I asked.

“We have a secret signal. I put my hat on backwards.” He reached up and swiveled his rainbow colored beanie around on his head which mystified me because it looked pretty much the same whichever way it sat. It must have worked because the stocky soldier broke off his conversation with another soldier and started our way with his head down.

When he got to Jay, he stopped and eyed the whole group of us before talking. It didn’t look like we got a positive appraisal.

“Who the hell are these people, Jay?” he asked.

“These are my friends,” Jay said, smiling. “This is—” he stopped and looked at me, his face a blank, his smile fading. Boy, we were in trouble.

“Grant,” I said sticking my hand through the fence. “Me and Jay go way back.”

The soldier looked at it and scowled. This wasn’t going all that well.

A hand came through the fence from our direction and it was holding a sealed sandwich bag stuffed full of what I suspected was cannabis. The hand was connected to Jay’s arm and he was smiling from ear-to-ear.

“It’s my best stuff,” he said.

The soldier stepped forward, blocking the hand from view.

“Cool it, Jay,” he said in a hushed tone while taking the bag and stuffing inside his pants pocket. He took a furtive glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking. The place seemed more active than normal with soldiers moving Humvees, supplies, and weapons around in a frantic fashion. Something was going down.

“You probably shouldn’t have come now,” the soldier said. “Things are a little busy.”

“Yeah, but you’ll know you’ll want it later,” Jay said, trying to sell it.

The soldier looked down for a moment, then back up to Jay. “I can get you some extra food like normal, but not right now.”

“Oh man, we don’t want food,” Jay said.

The soldier scrunched up his face and said, “What do you want then?”

“We want out. Me and my friends.”

“You mean out of the camp?”

“Yeah, like to go free,” Jay said, imitating a bird flying with one his hands while whistling an off-key bird-like song. “Like free as a bird, man.”

“No can do,” the soldier said sternly. “That’s strictly against orders.”

“That’s not what you told us before,” Huck said, pushing his face near to the fence. “You said for the right price, we could skate on out of here.”

“No,” the soldier said as he rubbed his chin. “Well, yes, but not a whole group of you. I’d get caught moving this many people through.”

“Wouldn’t you be in bigger trouble for buying illegal drugs?” I asked.

The soldier’s head jerked in my direction. “What the hell are you talking about? You threatening me?”

“No, I’m just asking — what would Colonel Watson say if he knew you were buying pot? And what would he say if he knew you were letting refugees go?”

“I didn’t say anything about letting refugees go.”

“But you have, haven’t you?”

His eyes fell to his feet. Busted. But then he rallied. “Just because you know something about me doesn’t mean I’m going to let you out. Besides, where are you going go on foot? The closest town is thirty miles away.”

The sound of shots which had been more distant just a few minutes ago seemed a lot closer. I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder to the south because my gut told me that there was only bad news coming from that direction.

“We’ll figure that out if you get us out of the gate,” I said and locked my eyes on his. Stare down was a game I played with my friends as a kid. Whoever blinked or looked away lost. I only hoped that the rules still applied.

This went on for a few seconds before he blinked. I sighed inside.

“Meet me around at the gate on the west side of this guard post in five,” he said, exhaling loudly while his shoulders fell.

Something big was happening to the south. Usually the shots fired in the past were sporadic and only singles shots, soldiers taking out solo wandering zombies. That night, I heard the report of automatic weapons being fired and it wasn’t sporadic, but more constant.

I didn’t say anything, but just urged our people to make haste. It was difficult to move this many people without attracting attention, but the commotion to the south was keeping most eyes there.

The west gate was blocked from view by a set of tents so we had that working for us. Jay’s soldier friend kept to his word and was standing there with the gate open allowing us access to the north guard post. This guard post was large enough to house several big tents, a bevy of Army vehicles, plus the two elevated guard towers. Getting inside there was only a first step, though. We had to make it out the main north exterior gate next. We also needed a ride and some weapons, but Jay’s soldier friend didn’t know about that yet.

He led us to a tent out of way and told us to cool our heels there for a few minutes. The tent had two jeeps and boxes were stacked waist high covering much of the space. Just outside the tent was a Deuce and a Half standard Army issue truck. I had found our ride.

“Hey Grant, what do you think is going on the south end of the camp?” Sammy asked.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of shooting going on tonight,” Joni added.

“I have no idea,” I lied. “It’s not a good thing, but it could work in our favor.”

“What do you mean?” Mack asked with some skepticism.

“It will cover our escape.”

The soldier returned then and said, “They’re moving some of the guys south. As soon as they make their move, I’ll get you to the gate.” Sweat poured off him in small rivers and it wasn’t all from the heat.

“What’s happening?” I asked. “And don’t bullshit me.”

He licked his lips and said, “There’s been a significant zombie incursion on the south end of the camp.”

“What do you mean by significant?” I asked.

Significant got its definition just then as a fireball bloomed like an ominous flower in the night sky to the south. The sound came next, a booming hollow noise rolling like thunder across the camp. I took an involuntary step back even though the spectacle was hundreds of yards away.

Time was up. For us and the soldier.

He stood gaped mouth staring at the fireball to the south. It was a shitty thing to do, but I sucker punched him as he started to turn back around. I felt sort of bad about punching him like that, but it didn’t stop me from doing it. It was a solid punch that connected with his jaw and knocked him out before he hit the ground. I was sort of proud of my work, but was ashamed at having to do it.

“Everybody,” I shouted, “check these crates for weapons and grab what you can. Get water and food, too. We’re getting out of here.”

Between the fireball to the south and the fact that I had just knocked the soldier out, they all stood in stunned silence.

“Now!” I shouted.

They trusted my instincts to get them out of San Antonio when the world was turning to shit and they must have trusted me now because they shot into motion. They all broke into separate groups and started cracking open crates. I grabbed Mack before he could get moving and pulled him close.

Before I could say anything, the rip of a heavy weapon sounded to the south, but a lot closer than before. This sound was followed by screams and shouts. Lots of them. The other refugees were finding out what was coming at them and that meant we only had minutes before the whole place broke into total pandemonium.

“Mack, we need to get that truck,” I said pointing to the Deuce.

“What?” he asked, more dumbfounded than skeptical this time.

“We can’t just walk out of here. We need transport. In just a few minutes every refugee in this camp is going to be heading this way. We have to get out of here before this station is overrun.”

Joni must have overheard me and she stepped up beside Mack and me. “What about them?” she asked motioning to camp and all the refugees. “We can’t just leave them all here.”

“Look around, Joni,” I said. “There’s only a handful of vehicles here. It’s every man for himself.”

“But that would be abandoning them.”

“Think of Jessica and Martin.” It was hitting below the belt and I knew it, but there was no time for a humanitarian debate. We had to get out, and fast.

A myriad of expressions passed over her face, most of them dark, but the final look was one of resignation as she nodded.

“Let’s go and get the truck, Mack,” I said.

As we walked to the truck, I looked to the south. I could see and hear the sound of automatic weapons intermixed with more explosions. Figures moved chaotically, silhouetted against the flame and lights. Some were soldiers, some were refugees. All of them looked in high panic mode.

We were in luck, the keys were in the truck.

“Mack, can you drive this?” I asked when we climbed into the cab leaving him behind the wheel.