ZOMBIES: "Chronicles of the Dead": A Zombie Novel (38 page)

"We don't know if we're staying or going yet, so there's no big hurry," I said.

A tall blonde woman carrying a tray approached our table.

"Here's your dessert Ron," the woman said as she sat the tray on the table. "If you want anything else, just let me know."

"Okay Helen," said Sarge, watching her walk away.

"Apple pie, my favorite," Jacob proclaimed, as he grabbed a plate of dessert.

"You and your people seem to get around pretty good; have you lost many on your supply runs?" I asked.

"We run into those diseased sons-a-bitches around every corner, and we've had a few close calls," Sarge answered. "We have developed somewhat of a system. We can charge car batteries with our generator so there's never a shortage of vehicles. We acquired some maps of the underground so we travel unseen much of the time," he explained.

"Underground, what do you mean by the underground?" Gin inquired.

"The sewers, we walk through the sewer to get to where we want to go. There are hardly any, what did you call them Jacob?"

"Eaters!" Jacob quickly answered.

Sarge continued his explanation.

"Yes eaters, there are very few eaters in the sewer system. We can spot them long before they can surprise us most of the time, because they're so noisy. And we're totally out of sight of the hordes that are becoming more prevalent on the surface, and any rouge snipers or gangs that take pot shots at us from time to time. Hell, we can literally travel for miles undetected that way."

"What if you meet up with one of those rouge gangs in the sewer, what do you do then?" Billy asked.

"Well son, so far that hasn't happened, but when we travel anywhere we do it in a fairly large and well armed group. So if we do run into a formidable force down there, we'll be able to either talk our way out using the mutually assured destruction argument, or inflict some serious damage on them," Sarge guaranteed us.

The sergeant paused for a moment, and then announced.

"There is one thing Jack, if you stay with us, you'll need to be an asset to the group in some way, that goes for everyone, nobody gets a free ride here, nobody, is that understood?"

Jacob looked puzzled.

"What kind of an asset," he asked.

"Anything that benefits the group, some are cooks, some wait tables like Helen, some are perimeter guards, mechanics, and some of us like me, collect supplies and specialize in killing those monsters out there, or as Jacob calls them, Eaters. It's up to you what you want to do, but you have to do something," Sarge persisted.

"That's not a problem, if we decide to stay, we'll pull our weight," I said.

"Right!" Gin added, as Billy and Jacob nodded their heads in agreement.

The Sarge and I spent the rest of the evening talking and reminiscing about old times. We shared our adventures dealing with the events of our new world, while my family enjoyed being clean for the first time since we left our home on the outskirts of St. Louis. Gin and I even drank a couple of cold beers with the Sarge to celebrate our timely meeting.

Just before we retired for the evening, two young men approached us carrying a pile of folded clothes.

"Sir, we washed your family's uniforms, they're clean now, but we couldn't get all of the blood stains out."

"I'm sure they'll be just fine, thank you," I said, taking a pile from the taller man.

"After all, they are camouflage, the stains will blend right in," Gin added, reaching for the garments the other man was holding.

The next day, we sequestered ourselves in what used to be one of the offices, and after several long talks with my family members, we all decided that at least for the time being, it would be in our best interest to stay with this group of people.

After all, they have a reasonably secure facility, with electricity, hot water, and food. Not to mention a swimming pool, gym, and several other amenities that would make life in the apocalypse somewhat bearable.

We also decided that during our stay, however long that would be, our contribution to the group would be the same as the Sarge's, we would go out and collect supplies and kill zombies. After all, that's what we had been doing, and we were getting pretty good at it.

Two months passed, and by day we spent our time going on supply runs, killing zombies, and learning the sewer system around the former YMCA, and at night, we made good use of the swimming pool, basketball courts, and movie theater.

We were getting to know the people at the Y, and between the basketball games, and saving some of their lives, not to mention them saving ours on occasion, we began to develop close bonds with many of the people. Even some of the meaner ones.

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THE ARMORY

"Hey Jack," the Sarge yelled from down the hall. "Come here for a minute."

"What's up Sarge?" I asked, thinking he was going to challenge me to some kind of contest, handball, or a game of horse, or something like that.

"Tomorrow we're going a little farther away than usual. There's a National Guard armory west of here a few miles, we're going to go over there and see if we can obtain some serious weapons, maybe a even a tank or something," he said, looking at me with that steely stare he used when he was dead serious (no pun intended).

"How far is a little farther?" I asked.

"About one hundred miles," he answered, still giving me his steely glare.

"I take it we're not going to be walking on this supply run," I concluded, returning his steely glance with one of my own.

"That's right Jack, we'll be driving to the armory, and we'll be taking a school bus on this expedition.

Fred and Jeff, along with a few others, have been working on some pertinent changes to the bus for a couple of weeks now, and they just about have them completed," Sarge informed me, nodding his head and plastering a shit eating grin on his face.

"How big is this school bus you're planning to drive a hundred miles," I asked, remembering our life on the road.

The sergeant canted his head to the left, and squinted his eyes slightly.

"It's a forty footer Jack, you kind of sound like you might have an issue with this plan, do you?" He asked softly.

"It's just that me and my family have been on the roads, they're littered with wrecked and abandoned vehicles, eaters come out of nowhere, and then there's the snipers. Not to mention we ran into road pirates who had built a barricade across the freeway and were stopping everyone that came by," I said, expressing my concern. "What modifications are Fred and Jeff making to the school bus?"

"Let's go over to the garage area and take a look at it," Sarge answered, as he turned and began to walk toward the back of the building.

"We're not going into this totally blind; do you remember Jill and Tommy? They joined the group about three weeks ago. Remember, they showed up here on that beat to hell motorcycle, saying that they would never ride a motorcycle again, as long as they lived?" Sarge said, recalling the two new comers.

"I remember them, I shared our experience on the bicycles with them, vowing never to use a bike every again, what about them?" I asked.

"They came in from the west, right passed the armory. Tommy said there were a lot of abandoned cars on the road, but nobody took any shots at them, and they didn't run into any trouble. Well, except for the zombies and that damn shadow thing, but you can't really call that trouble, nobody has seen it well enough to even tell what the hell it is," Sarge said, shaking his head.

"We've seen it too, I mean kind of seen it. Everyone we've ran across that wasn't trying to kill us that is, has told us that they have experienced it too, along with the lights at night," I informed the Sarge.

"Lights at night?" Sarge asked, again tilting his head and squinting his eyes.

"Yeah, they're just like the day shadows, you never really get to see them, they don't make any sense either," I answered.

"Well this is it Jack," the Sarge said, opening the door to the garage.

"Hey Fred, hey Jeff, you guys about done?"

"Just finished putting on the last of the window tint, we're ready to go, just say the word," Jeff answered proudly, as Fred nodded his head in agreement.

"Good, give Jack here an update of what you changed on this bad boy, he'll be coming with us," Sarge said, looking over the completed bus.

I liked the way the Sarge had volunteered me (and my family) for the mission before I'd given him my answer one way or another. I decided to keep my mouth shut and inspect this school bus of theirs before I made up my mind whether or not I would be joining them on this very dangerous, and possibly suicidal mission they were about to undertake.

"Well, first we made sure it's in tip top running condition, we changed the oil and filters, checked and bled the brakes, and topped off all of the fluids. But the real changes are the ones that are going to get us there and back. We salvaged this huge blade from a snowplow that was being transported on a northbound train when the plague hit, turned it upside down, and welded it on to the front bumper mounts. The idea being, any of those monsters out there that we scoop up will be discarded to the left of the bus, and not tossed over by the door," Jeff explained, very pleased with his work.

"Sounds good," Sarge agreed, stroking his chin. "What do you think Jack, sound good to you?"

"How strong is the blade, will it hold up to crashing into and pushing vehicles out of the way?" I asked.

Fred piped up at this point.

"That was my concern too, so I welded supports onto the frame, they're made out of chrome steel, they'll hold up to just about anything," he said, almost arrogantly.

Jeff then added.

"We just got done tinting the windows, that's so any snipers that are out there won't be able to get a clean shot, and we even tinted the windshield. We painted the bus black as you can see, I figured a big yellow school bus would stick out like a sore thumb in a snow storm."

"Anything else?" Sarge asked.

"We cut holes low along the sides and on the floor at two foot intervals, just big enough to shoot a gun through, and as you can see we welded steel panels across the wheel-wells to protect the tires and keep any zombies you might run over from getting stuck in the wheel wells. We even added an escape hatch in the floor, just in case."

"Don't forget the extra fuel tank," Fred reminded. "We put an extra fuel tank about fifteen feet away from the original one, in case you start leaking fuel from it."

"Are you two going to be going with us?" I asked.

"No they're mechanics and welders," Sarge interjected quickly.

"Good," I said. "Then you two won't mind working through the night and adding something for me."

"Anything for the cause," Jeff said, surprisingly happily. "What is it that you would like added sir?"

"Don't call me sir; I'm not your dad!" I answered smiling, just before I shared with everyone our experience running from the pack of dogs just after we left the river. And how we periodically would see packs of dogs in the distance as we made our way cross-country. Plus, how we managed to get ourselves surrounded by large groups of zombies that seemed to come out of nowhere on several occasions.

I told them that we would need two ports cut into the roof of the bus. One at the front and one at the back that we could close and lock when need be, and platforms to stand on that were high enough that we could get our upper torso through the ports so we could shoot at any attackers, whether they were dead or alive, or animals, or all of the above.

"We'll have it done before dawn," Jeff insisted, nodding his head and looking at Fred.

"Considering that we've already taken out most of the seats, this shouldn't be too much of a chore," Fred agreed, smiling.

"Great, then we leave at dawn," the sergeant announced loudly.

As the sun rose, and we entered the garage the following morning, the Sarge and I found Jeff and Fred sleeping on the floor under the bus. However, true to their word, they had completed the assignment that I had given them, and had even added steps to the platforms, and a rope to pull the hatch covers closed from inside the bus.