The Reckoning - 02 (24 page)

             
“I sure hope not,” I said. “Look Chuck, I’m going after this guy even if you’re not.”

             
“Fine,” he said. “I’m in. Just don’t expect me to like it.”

             
Southard headed off down the stairs and back into the building. I watched the parachute until I couldn’t see it anymore. The wind was taking him to the west. I wanted to try to get a good bearing on exactly where it went down. It looked like it would touch down near the intersection of Kansas Expressway and Chestnut. That made it about a mile almost due west of us.

             
“Sure,” said Halsey, “the wind couldn’t be blowing
this
direction.”

             
“That would be too easy,” I replied, heading for the stairs. “If you old coots will excuse me, I’ve got a pilot to rescue.”

             
I didn’t have to turn around to know I was getting the finger from one or both of them. It made me chuckle all the way down the stairs. I stopped in Master Control and found Lieutenant Murdock inside.

             
“How’s the arm, sir?” I asked, grabbing a cup of coffee.

             
“Better,” he said. “Maddie set it and gave me some painkillers. It will most-likely be in the cast for several more weeks, though.”

             
I quickly brought the L.T. up to speed on the incident we’d just witnessed and he listened without interrupting, his fingers stroking his newly grown beard.

             
“So, you’re going after him,” he said, when I’d finished.

             
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “I won’t leave him out there to die.”

             
“How do you plan on finding him in the dark?”

             
I didn’t have an answer for that. I knew that downed pilots had an emergency strobe as part of their flight gear. It would flash to signal other aircraft where to look for him. The only problem was it was only visible on night vision scopes. Since we were fresh out of those, I had no idea how we were going to find him.

             
“I’m not sure, sir,” I answered, honestly. “But I have to try.”

             
“Wylie,” he said, gently, “you might want to wait until first light. You won’t be doing him any favors by getting overran. In the dark, you won’t be able to defend yourselves as well. You won’t see the zombies until they’re on top of you. Besides, he’s already on the ground. He’s either already been eaten or found a safe place to hide.”

             
I couldn’t argue the logic. I knew he was right, but it didn’t make it sit any better on my conscience. I hated waiting around more than I hated getting shot at. My wife can attest to the fact that patience is not one of my virtues.

             
“Alright, sir,” I said. “We’ll postpone until first light. With any luck, the explosions will have drawn away a big chunk of the zombies in the area.”

             
“Get some sleep, son,” he said. “You look like you could use it.”

             
I headed out of Master Control and down the stairs. Spec-4 and Southard were waiting by the main sliders. They were both packed and ready to go. Spec-4 tossed me another M-4 as I approached.

             
“Here,” she said, “I heard you gave yours to your son.”

             
“Thanks,” I said, quickly checking the weapon. It was loaded and ready. I verified it was on safe and slung it across my chest. “We’re putting the run on hold. We don’t have any NVG’s, so we’re waiting until first light.”

             
“Won’t that pilot be zombie chow by then?” asked Spec-4.

             
“He’s already on the ground,” I said. “He’s either dead already or finding a place to hold up. If he survives the night, we’ll find him in the morning.”

             
“Fine with me,” said Southard. “I’m worn out, anyway. I’m not sure how much use I would have been.”

             
“Good point,” I said. “Let’s all get some rest. I’ll set my alarm and get us all up by 0700.”

             
We all started to head towards the offices that we’d all used as sleeping quarters, when I stopped. Spec-4 looked at me quizzically for a moment, and then realization struck. I could see the hurt in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. She just turned and headed into the office. I stood there a moment, feeling like a total jackass. I wanted to go in there and try to explain things to her, but I figured I’d just make matters worse.

             
Before I could decide, Karen and the boys came through the main sliders. Elliot was carrying his M-4, shoulder slung. He smiled when he saw me and patted the stock of the M-4. I could see how proud he was to have a real weapon.

             
“Elliot tells me you’re going back out tonight,” said Karen, a touch of anger in her voice.

             
“Change of plans,” I said. “We’re holding off until daylight. No sense going out in the dark, unless we absolutely have to.”

             
“Good,” she said, sounding relieved. “You need to rest. Come on upstairs. We’ve cleaned out a couple of rooms up by medical and turned them into our own quarters.”

             
“Good,” I said. “I’m ready to hit the pillow.”

             
We all headed upstairs. Once we reached the fifth floor, I ducked into Medical. Karen and the boys went on into the rooms to get ready for bed. The boys had one office and Karen and I had the other. Maddie looked up and smiled as I walked inside.

             
“How’re you doing, Wylie?” she asked, warmly.

             
“I’ve had better days,” I said, “but all things considered, I’m good.”

             
“What can I do for you?”

             
“I just wanted something for aches and pains,” I said, moving my right shoulder slowly. “I’m stiff and sore, all over.”

             
“I bet you are,” she said. “You’ve really taken a beating, lately. Take your shirt off and let me take a look at you.”

             
I knew better than to argue with Maddie, so I did as I was told. I removed the pack, armor, and gear. Then I slowly removed my shirt and t-shirt.”

             
“Now have a seat on the bed, there,” she said, pointing.

             
Grabbing her stethoscope and blood pressure cuff, she headed towards me. Her smile never faltered, but I could see her eyes taking note of every bruise and cut on my torso. There were quite a few of them. With expert skill, she applied the cuff and took my blood pressure. Then she listened to my heart and lungs. Satisfied, she slipped on gloves and started checking my wounds.

             
“Hmmm,” she muttered. “Will you hand me those tweezers.”

             
She was pointing to a tray of instruments to my left. I grabbed them and held them out. She took them without looking and began messing with a wound on my back. I felt the pain of her extracting something sharp and dropping it onto a metal tray with an audible clank. Then she applied gauze to the wound and began cleaning it. She repeated the process several times.

             
“You had several pieces of shrapnel sticking out of closed wounds,” she said. “They weren’t very big, and came out without much resistance.”

             
“Good,” I said. “I don’t feel like getting cut open, tonight.”

             
“Oh, you’re fine,” she said, with an odd expression on her face. “In fact, you’re better than I would expect someone to be that had taken that kind of damage. When did you get hit with the shrapnel?”

             
“A few days ago when I blew up the dock,” I answered. “Can I put my shirt on, now?”

             
“Go ahead,” she said, removing her gloves and tossing them into a trashcan.

             
“Is there something wrong?”

             
“Have you always healed this fast?” she asked, making notes on a clipboard.

             
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve always healed quickly.”

             
“Do you ever get sick?”

             
“Very rarely,” I said. “Why?”

             
“No reason,” she said, scribbling. “You’re just healthy as a horse for someone who’s been through so much, lately.”

             
“Just lucky, I guess,” I said. “Can I have something for the aches?”

             
“I suppose so,” she said, opening the med cabinet and digging out two white pills.

             
I snagged a bottle of water off of the counter and washed them down. Then I slipped my t-shirt back on and picked up the rest of my gear. With a smile and a wave, I headed out towards my new quarters. Maddie watched me go, then returned to her desk and started making notes, again. I put it out of my head.

             
Sticking my head into my sons’ room, I found them getting ready for bed. I kissed them each on the forehead and hugged them. Even my youngest son hugged me, tightly. He was the one who usually didn’t like being hugged.

             
“Goodnight, boys,” I said, turning off the light. “I love you.”

             
“Love you too, dad,” they said.

             
Stepping into my room, I found Karen already in the bed. She’d put a few of the small inmate mattresses together, lashed with sheets. It wasn’t exactly the Four Seasons, but it looked great to me. She was already under the covers, waiting for me to join her. I slipped out of my boots and took off my duty belt. Then I put all my gear in easy reach, just in case.

             
I set my alarm on my watch and sat it on a desk that was against the wall. Then I switched off the light and crawled under the covers. I noticed two things right away. One was that the bed was surprisingly comfortable. The second was that Karen was naked. I slipped into her arms and lost myself there. I forgot all about the aches and pains in my body. For that moment we were man and wife, sharing a passion and intensity that we’d rarely matched before. It felt wonderful to lose myself in her embrace.

             
I’m not sure how much time passed before I collapsed in her arms, exhausted and utterly spent. I could feel her fingers tracing the line of my jaw and ear. I felt her lips against my neck and I never wanted to move from this spot, again. As I slipped into unconsciousness, I heard her whisper softly in my ear.

             
“I love you.”

             
I tried to mumble, “I love you, too.”

             
I’m not sure if it came out. I was asleep. That night, the dreams didn’t come. I’d planned on running a rescue mission to save that pilot. Instead, Karen had rescued me. I felt strength and hope renewed inside me. I was ready to continue the fight. Out of all the people that we had saved over the last few days, it never occurred to me that I might need saving as well. Karen had saved me from the horrors that had been building up in my mind.

“
This is no time for ease and comfort. It is time to dare and endure.”

-
         
Winston Churchill

20 April

              I awoke to the sound of my watch alarm going off. For a moment, I considered shooting it. Karen was already up and out of bed. I lay there and smiled, content to watch her get dressed.

“Why don’t you go take a shower, you perv,” she said, smiling at me.

“Wanna join me?” I asked, waggling my eyebrows.

“Not right now,” she said, slipping her pants back on. “I’m going to go get us some coffee and breakfast. I’ll wake the boys and send them downstairs to eat.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, slipping out of the bed and grabbing my pants.

“I brought up some fresh uniforms for you,” she said, gesturing at a bookshelf in the corner. “So long as the generators last, I’ll keep washing clothes.”

“Sweet,” I said, snagging a set of BDU’s, socks and a t-shirt.

Then I headed into Medical.
I knew there was a shower in there and made use of it. I was stunned to discover that the hot water heater was still working. I breathed a silent thank you to the All-father and slipped into the hot, steamy shower. The hot water washed away the dirt, grime, aches and pains. I felt like a new man. Karen returned and poked her head into the shower, and smiled. I made a grab for her, but she ducked back out of my reach, laughing at me.

             
“Want a razor?” she asked.

             
“That would be great,” I replied. “You sure you don’t want to join me?”

S
he just shook her head and tossed the razor at me.

“There’s a towel out here when you finish,” she said, smiling. “Breakfast is in our room.”

I shaved my head smooth and trimmed the new beard back down to a goatee. I felt much better as I emerged from the shower and began drying off. Then I slipped back into my BDU’s and boots. Taking my dirty clothes with me back into my room, I discovered that Karen had set up two trays on a desk. There were eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, honey and coffee.

We sat across from each other and held hands while we prayed in silence. Once we finished, I dove into my food
with a voracious appetite. I could tell by the first bite that they were powdered eggs, but I just didn’t care. Everything tasted wonderful this morning. I finished the meal with the biscuits and honey. It was so sweet it was almost a dessert. I washed it all down with two cups of coffee. It wasn’t Karen’s coffee, but at least it wasn’t Booking Sludge.

After I finished, I started to gather up my tray. Karen waved me off and took it from me, with a smile. I returned the smile and kissed her on the cheek. Deftly, I stole a sausage link off of her tray and stuffed it into my mouth.

“Hey, now,” she said, shaking her fork at me. “That’ll get you stabbed, mister.”

“Thanks, babe,” I said, smiling.

“I didn’t cook any of it,” she replied.

“I didn’t mean the food.
I meant for everything.”

“Oh, shut up and get dressed. Don’t you have a pilot to rescue, or something?” she said, grinning at me.

I grabbed my duty belt and slipped it on, fastening the belt keepers. Then I slipped into my body armor and started buckling on weapons. By the time I was done, Karen had finished eating and was gathering the dishes to take back downstairs. I could see the worried look on her face as she picked up the tray. I knew it bothered her that I was going back out again, so soon. It bothered me, too. I wasn’t going to leave that pilot out there to die. I knew she wouldn’t try to stop me, but it wouldn’t keep her from worrying either.

“Be careful,” she said, concern in her voice.

“I will,” I promised.

We kissed for a long moment, and
then she slipped out of my arms. By the time I shouldered my pack and recovered my weapons, she was already down the stairs. When I reached the Main Sliders, Southard and Spec-4 were already geared up and waiting for me.

“The Humvee is already fueled up and ready,” said Southard. “I’ve got Matthews, Bowman and Winston gearing up to open and close the gate.”

“Outstanding,” I said. “Let’s get fresh radio batteries and top off our ammo.”

“Already done,” said Spec-4, handing me a bag.

It was heavy, so I glanced inside it and saw two batteries and six loaded magazines for the M-4. I stowed the magazines in my ammo pouches and cargo pockets. The extra batteries went into my pack. After a quick ammo check, I decided that I was ready. Elliot came walking up with his gear on, smiling expectantly.

“Can I go, too?” he asked.

“Sorry, buddy,” I said. “We need an empty seat for the pilot, if we find him.”

He looked disappointed, but didn’t argue.

“I’ll tell you what you can do, though,” I said. “Get with Sanders and have him teach you everything there is to know about an M-4.”

“I can do that,” said Sanders as he came towards us from Booking. “It’ll give me something to do until
Mad
Maddie says I’m fit to fight.”

“Thanks,
Cal,” I said.

Putting his good arm around Elliot, they headed off towards the Main Sliders.
Cal was expounding on the virtues of a clean weapon and Elliot was listening with rapt attention. I couldn’t help but smile. Elliot was in good hands. Cal knew more about weapons than almost anyone here.

“Alright, folks,” I said. “Let’s go find us a pilot.”

We met the others by the Release door. They were geared up and ready.

“We sent John, Corporal Halsey and
Gunny up to the roof with rifles,” said Winston. “I thought that they could provide cover from up there, if we needed it.”

“Good thinking,” I said, smiling. “Have everyone stay in position. We may be coming in hot.”

“Or ahead of a horde of zombies,” said Southard.

“Either way,” said Spec-4, “it won’t be fun.”

We headed out the Release door, moving tactically just in case. Once we established that it was clear, the two groups split up. Spec-4, Southard and I headed for our Humvee. Matthews headed for the gate/car while Winston and Bowman got into position to cover the gate. I got behind the wheel and Spec-4 slid into the passenger seat. Southard climbed in the back and up into the turret.

“700, can you check the vehicle gate with the camera?” I asked.

“Looks clear,” replied 700. “Most of the zombies headed off towards the square after that explosion last night.”

“Clear,” I
said. “All units, are you ready?”

“Roof
unit’s ready,” said John.

“Ground team ready,”
added Winston.

“Alright,” I
replied. “Matthews, open the gate.”

Instantly, the gate began to slide open as Matthews backed the cruiser up. No zombies appeared in
the opening. That was good. Once the gate was open far enough, I shot Winston a salute and headed out the gate. Instantly, it began sliding shut behind us.

I didn’t wait for it to close completely. There was a team inside to cover the gate. Instead, I turned north and headed for the next street. We’d driven this way before, so I knew the clearest path to take. Minutes later, we were seeing the front of the jail on our left as we headed into a residential area.

“Can you get on the SINCGARS and try to raise the pilot’s emergency radio?” I asked, glancing at Spec-4.

             
“I can try,” she said, reaching for the handset. “I have no idea what channel they’ll be on.”

             
“If you can’t find it, don’t sweat it.”

             
I glanced at my watch. It was 0743 hours. I thought about the procedure for a downed pilot. I wasn’t positive, but I was fairly certain that they only turned on their radios at certain times, to conserve battery power. The trouble was I had no idea what time they had chosen. Logic would indicate the top of the hour, but it could just as easily be the bottom. We’d just have to keep trying.

             
We drove through a neighborhood that looters had torn apart. There were houses that had been set on fire and everything from household appliances to clothing scattered all over the place. There were quite a few zombies around and more than a few bodies lying unmoving on the ground. Not all of them seemed to have died from gunshot wounds. That struck me as kind of odd.

             
As we approached Kansas Expressway, I could see that the road was clogged with cars. I took a side street and headed south, paralleling Kansas. It was a rough neighborhood, even before the zombies came. Older houses in poor condition lined both sides of the street. The entire area had a rundown feeling to it.

             
“Keep your eyes peeled for that parachute,” I said. “If it’s hung in a tree or on a building, it should be easy to spot.”

             
“Roger that,” said Southard.

             
Spec-4 had been trying the radio without any success. She glanced up at me with a shrug.

             
“Either their radio is off or I can’t pick up their channel.”

             
“We’ll try back at the top of the hour,” I said.

             
“Do you think we’ll even find this guy?” she asked.

             
“I would put money on it. Fighter pilots all go to SERE
[8]
training. I’ll bet they made it or gave it one hell of a try.”

             
It startled me when I heard Southard slap the roof three times in rapid succession.

             
“I think I see something,” he said through the turret.

             
“Where?” I asked, looking around.

             
“End of the block, in the trees,” he said.

             
I looked that way and could see the flapping of the parachute in the upper branches of a tree. There wasn’t any sign of the pilot, though. Up ahead, I saw a group of zombies gathered around an overturned SUV. It didn’t look like they were eating anything, more like digging around. Before I could say anything, Southard raked them with the SAW. He reduced them to a group of
Crawlers
in one pass, leaving a few of them no longer moving at all.

             
From a house across the street, a flare shot out of a second floor window and struck a zombie in the chest, setting it on fire. Southard pivoted the SAW and covered the window. I started slowing down and drove into the yard of the house that the flare had come from. There weren’t any mobile zombies in the immediate area, so I put it in park and climbed out. Spec-4 followed suit on her side. We both brought up our M-4’s and switched off the safeties.

             
“Are you guys Army?” shouted a female voice from the open upstairs window.

             
“Sheriff’s department,” I yelled back.

             
“How do I know you ain’t the assholes that shot me down?” she answered.

             
“The pilot’s a woman,” muttered Southard. “Sweet.”

             
“There
are
women pilots, these days,” said Spec-4, giving Southard a dirty look.

             
“I know,” said Southard, “I just didn’t know any of them flew fighters.”             

             
“I’d say anyone that has flight training is at a premium right now,” I said. “They don’t have time to be sexist, anymore.”

             
“Fair enough,” said Southard.

             
“We didn’t shoot you down,” I yelled back. “We were on the roof of the jail when you flew over.”

             
There was a long pause.

             
“Besides,” I said, “If we were trying to kill you, we’ve got the firepower to take that house apart.”

             
“Good point,” she answered. “How do I know I can trust you?”

             
“You don’t,” I said. “All I can say is decide quickly. We’re going to have zombies all over the place in a very short time.”

             
“Alright,” she said. “I’m coming out.”

             
I don’t know what I was expecting, but she definitely wasn’t it. A rather striking redhead in nomex coveralls climbed out onto the roof of the porch. She looked to be in her late twenties and stood about five feet five inches tall. She was fit and built like a dancer, lithe and graceful looking. She had an emergency bag over one shoulder and a Beretta in her left hand. The holster was under her right shoulder.

             
“A lefty,” I thought.