The plant had been closed on the Saturday that Z hit, so on our initial scouting we only noticed a few Zs wandering around in the yard, still in their security uniforms. The company must have recently shipped out a lot of their stock since there were only a few of their armored SCTVs in the lot. An SCTV or Survivable Combat Tactical Vehicle, were armored vehicles that were slowly replacing the Humvees. They were cheaper and took a hit better.
We were going in as a team. The mission was to go in fast, take out any of the dead and secure weapons and vehicles as quickly as possible. Our forward team consisted of Romeo, whose nickname was worse than mine, Vance Ito, who we called Ito, Jimmy and Blake. We cut into the chain-link fence that surrounded the place and I whistled to attract the attention of the two Zs that were roaming the yard.
They approached us like good little dead things and we dispatched them easily. I didn’t even have to take out my Bowie because Jimmy and Ito were on it, fast and efficient.
We split up to case the area, looking for an easily accessible entry point. We wanted to enter the plant and not have to search around for the storage area. More chances to have a dead worker surprise us if we wandered around the offices looking for a door into the warehouse. Getting in was probably going to be the hardest process. It was a government contractor so they were locked down tight, not many windows and the doors were reinforced. Most of their security relied on electricity though, so once we found an entrance that looked suitable it only took a crowbar and a bit of muscle to pry open the door.
Our banging and scratching to get in drew the attention of the Saturday workers; they were ready for us when the door swung open. A flood of hungry and bedraggled zombies poured out the small entry way. They were actually in better condition than the ones left out in the elements. They were oddly dry, with crusty looking skin, instead of the oozing, wet look we were used to.
Most of them looked like the typical business types in polos and khakis for the Saturday grind, but a few seemed to be workers, possibly the cleaning staff, because they wore coveralls. They reached for us with their mouths opened wide. Their dry, brittle skin looked like it could crack and break away if you touched it wrong. Appearances could be deceiving though, I knew better, they were tougher than they looked. Their grips were like steel. They would pull you to them with a tenacity fueled by some unknown element that kept them alive.
I holstered my piece and pulled out my Bowie knife. I grabbed for the closest and pulled it to me, embedding my knife in its skull. The skin looked dry, but it had a weird consistency, almost like leather. I didn’t know what had caused them to decompose like this, but it was bizarre. A chunk of hair came off in my hand and I shook it off as the body fell to my feet. I tried to kick it away, but it was a solid male and I only moved it slightly. I didn’t have time to mess around, there were more coming, so I stepped over the body and grabbed for another.
This one got a good grip on my shoulder and I had to push my arm up toward its face to keep the teeth away from my exposed skin. I had wrapped my arms in the hillbilly armor we had perfected at the compound, a mix of leather and repurposed rubber tires to keep teeth from finding exposed flesh. When I didn’t have to worry about bites it made it easier to take them out. You couldn’t cover everything, though. I stabbed upward and took it out with a quick jab to the temple.
I took down two more and was finally able to take a breath. The herd was culled as Ito dropped the last one at his feet. Blake clicked on a torch and signaled for us to follow him into the dark building.
We encountered two more Zs on the way to the plant floor, but those weren’t enough of a challenge to even get my heart rate up. When we found the door that led to the big production room floor, where hopefully the vehicles were stored, we clicked off our lights and entered as silently as possible. There was enough natural light coming in from windows high above us to see without the use of the flashlights.
The room was large, big enough and tall enough to fit a few commercial airliners. Motors and engine parts lined the far wall and a good amount of half-constructed vehicles sat to the right of us. The back wall opened to a large bay door that could open and close to about four feet above the ground.
The bay door was large and most of it was over the water of a pool and docking area. The pool fed into the lake so the LCACs that were docked inside could be driven out into the lake for testing.
We had thought about taking an LCAC, but they were too much. The LCACs were big. They required a crew and could carry ten land vehicles and a whole regiment. It would be like firing up a destroyer and taking it into Lakeview. We needed something smaller that could be manned by one or two of our people.
“Jimmy and Ito, check out the water, see if there's anything we can use,” Blake said and the two peeled off and headed toward the docks.
“I want the rest of us in an SCTV, it looks like they have enough,” he gestured to the
group of tan vehicles to the left of us.
“Get the garage doors up, Ba–
Hannah
.”
I glared at him for almost calling me Baby, then I followed his orders and went to the doors. They were electrical but there was always a way around.
It took a bit of poking, but I found the manual release and disengaged the rail, allowing me to pull on the rope and bring the door up. It was big and I was huffing from the weight, by the time it was all the way up, but I got that bitch open and managed to engage the latch to keep it from crashing down.
I heard the crank of a few engines and fell back to find my own armored vehicle. I had secretly hoped they had a tank or two. I always wanted to drive a tank–but it was nothing but these armored vehicles. They didn’t even have mounted .50 calibers, which was rather disappointing.
My com crackled with static, Ito and Jimmy had found something. Jimmy’s voice came over the small speaker, “We got a small craft, looks like maybe a prototype or something they were engineering for a private customer. It’s not military. Can only hold five vehicles at max and has the controls of a regular craft. We can handle this one.
It’s berth five. We can load a few of the SCTVs onto it.”
“Good job, Jimmy. Romeo and I will meet you down there with two of these vehicles.” The com clicked off as I walked to Blake. He was paging through a binder.
“Looks like they only have vehicles. The weaponry must be attached at another plant, this is it. Number eight-seven over there should be gassed up. Take that one out into the yard,” he said to me.
“Romeo, take number nine-two down to the docks. I’ll follow in eight-three. We can come back and grab those two,” He pointed at the ones closest to us, “And follow Baby out.” I let him slide this time with the name and walked to my assigned vehicle without a glare. I was getting better.
The keys were in the ignition, the benefits of being in a locked plant, and the machine started right up. It wasn’t exactly like driving a truck, but it wasn’t rocket science either. I revved the engine and rolled out. Looks like the S-Island crew were now militarized.
SIX | Housekeeping
The babysitter was in the house.
There were only about eighteen children. They ranged in age from seven to fifteen. I hadn’t had much contact with the kids, didn’t have any reason to. It wasn’t like I had any kids myself, or knew any of them personally. They mostly belonged to civilians, only three of them were legacy children and they were mainly tended by the old ladies and kept in another location.
They greeted me suspiciously when I moved my box of possessions into the building. Red had told them he was leaving, which if I was one of those kids, I would think it was a positive. Red wasn’t exactly the cuddly and kid-friendly type.
The oldest boy, a scrawny fifteen-year-old, showed me to Red’s old berth and I tried not to think about how oily he was when I looked at the cot.
“What did Red do all day?” I asked the boy.
“Nothing. He sat around complaining and he distributed the food when they sent it back for us,” he said quietly.
This was going to be boring.
I spent the rest of the evening checking out the place. The building was secure. It had been a gym, but all the machines had been moved into the back parking lot. The front was all glass and overlooked the front lot where the civilian men lived and worked. The entire parking area was surrounded by a chain-link fence.
There was only one exit in the back, a rear door that was guarded by one of the brothers day and night. Or it was supposed to be. Mostly it was locked from the outside and there was no way to look out and check if someone was standing there.
Realistically if I were to make a break for it, it would be through the back door. The back parking lot led right into a residential area and I could slip away quickly without being noticed. But I would have to break the lock and hope there wasn’t a guard on the back door.
For now I would have to feel out my new role and hope that an opportunity opened up and I could slip away.
The place was a sty, old food and trays were piled up in the back. Red had probably been waiting for one of the women to clean it up for him. Old candles had been allowed to burn down to nothing and pool wax over counters and tables. I even found a stash of food that Red was hiding from the rest of the group. It was kid stuff, like gummy bears and stale Pop Tarts, obviously intended for the children. Red must have forgotten about it since I found it under a pile of paper in the corner, discarded like trash.
You would have thought it was Christmas when I handed it out to the kids.
It had no nutritional value, but they were happy. At first they were suspicious, but as the first taste of sugar melted on their tongues, they became giddy. Kids were easy to please.
After the sugar party, I continued to clean up the place, throwing everything in a cardboard box I found by the back door. There were plastic cups everywhere and toys in every corner of the place. I was mostly concerned about the old food and the state of the bathrooms. It wasn’t healthy. I guess I could keep busy by getting it in order. There was no way I could think in this mess.
Babysitter and now housekeeper. My life kept improving.
SEVEN | Complicated Sucks
We rolled up on the compound like an invading army. Ito and Jimmy’s trip was longer and over water, so it was just us rolling in. We still got treated with a crowd running out to greet us and applause as we entered the compound.
We were rendezvousing with the troopers and the dregs of the National Guard tomorrow and we would roll into Lakeview that night. So, all we had to do was load up and get some rest.
Blake and Zach wanted to leave some fighters back at the compound, in case something happened while we were gone, but most of us were heading to Lakeview.
“I’m assuming we’re leaving Peters on the island,” I said to Zach as we walked into the main building of our compound. Cole Peters was another MJ grunt, but he was the only one that had kids and a wife at the compound. He was a good fighter, but his wife Grace liked him to stay close to home. I didn’t blame her. If I was her, I would want my husband staying home and protecting me and the kids too.