Taking It Back wfotd-2 Read online

  “Sarah, look at me,” I said, trying to get her to refocus as Tommy and John pushed the two cars out of the way. Lisa, Jason’s wife, climbed out and gathered the weapons of the attackers, passing them out equally among the cars.

  Sarah’s eyes calmed down enough for me to talk to her. “I will take care of this right now. Hand me the radio.” Sarah took a deep breath then handed me the small two-way. I kissed her cheek and patted her arm. “It will be okay.” I stepped away from the vehicles and made the call. I spoke with Duncan for a minute, then I let Charlie and Tommy talk to him as well. I could hear the pain in his voice as he took in the information, and then it turned to anger. I cautioned him not to do anything until I got there.

  I went over to where Charlie and Dane were. “Get up, we’re going.” I said to Dane. I pushed him ahead of me and motioned Charlie over. “Head into town and get things set up. I’ll meet you in a bit.”

  Charlie nodded. “Watch your ass.”

  I shook my head. “Crazy shit, hey?” I moved Dane to the vehicle and made him get in the driver’s seat.

  “I’m riding behind you, and my gun is in your back. Do what you’re told and you might live.” I was not kind as I threw him into the vehicle, a Nissan Xterra with a flatbed. Say what you want about Dane, he did pick nice vehicles. I slid behind him and showed him my SIG. “Let’s go.”

  We passed the convoy and headed back to the complex. I could almost see Dane’s brain trying to figure a way out of this. I didn’t say a word, I just let the thought of my child being murdered fuel the cold fire of rage that had started when I heard the news.

  I spoke when we approached the complex. “There’s Pamela. Honk your horn.” Dane complied and I could see Pamela’s head whip around. Her eyes got huge when she saw who was driving. She couldn’t see me yet, because I had crouched down. Dane pulled into the lot and parked under the building, next to the second pillar at my direction. Pamela came running over and spoke heatedly to Dane.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed at Dane. “You weren’t supposed to come back here yet! That wasn’t part of the plan!”

  I popped out of the backseat and leveled my SIG at Pamela’s head. “What plan?” I asked. “Was it the one where you have men kill me and my son, not to mention my friends? That plan?” I spat the question at her through gritted teeth.

  Pamela’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head when I stepped out of the car. But she recovered her composure well enough. “You can’t prove anything, and even if it is true, are you an executioner? Who would follow you after that? All you have is the word of this man. Where are your witnesses that he and I had any contact?”

  I kept the gun on her but lowered it slightly. “Charlie heard you talking to Dane here, same as I did. You’re finished here.”

  Pamela laughed. “You think Duncan is going to get rid of me? You’re a bigger fool than I thought. That idiot will do anything for me.”

  Duncan stepped out from behind the pillar that had hidden him. “Yesterday, I would have. Today? Not so much.” Duncan stepped closer as he spoke. “I should have known how you felt when you kept talking about John and how he needed to be gone. This would explain those frequent trips to the adult center. You were communicating with Blake. You’re right, I was an idiot, but not any longer.”

  Pamela laughed in his face. “What are you going to do? You haven’t the guts to kill me, and I wasn’t with the ones pulling the triggers on the convoy.”

  Duncan’s eyes went cold and I knew what was going to happen. I stepped aside as he swiftly drew his Glock and shot Dane in the head, dropping him on the pavement. “The stooge is dead. Now all that remains is the mastermind.” Duncan said, turning towards Pamela.

  Pamela backed up, looking at Dane’s body with a mixture of horror and disbelief. Her eyes drifted to Duncan who looked at her with sorrow and anger. As he raised his weapon, I spoke up.

  “Wait.” I said. They both looked at me, Duncan with surprise and Pamela with relief. “This shouldn’t be an execution.” I looked at Pamela and holstered my SIG. I waved Duncan down and stepped away from the Xterra.

  I continued speaking. “You tried to have me and my son killed. Your life is forfeit around here. You have two choices. Grab your gear and get away right now, or face me one on one.” I placed my hand on my SIG for her to realize what I meant.

  Pamela spat at me. “Duncan will kill me if I win. No deal.”

  “Duncan will let you go. My orders.” I said calmly.

  Pamela seemed to be weighing the options. Her hand hovered near her gun, and I was waiting intently for her to make a play. Time stretched and I became aware of subtle noises around me, the slight breeze playing in the grass.

  Finally Pamela’s head sagged and she slumped, realizing she had lost. Duncan moved swiftly and took her weapons away from her. She actually seemed smaller, but I had no pity whatsoever. “You have five minutes to get whatever is dear to you and get away. You will have no gun, no vehicle, and you will head north. If I ever see you again I will kill you on sight. No explanation, no warning, just death.”

  Pamela shook as if my words were physical things hitting her and I could see anger building again in her eyes. I stepped closer and just said, “Move.”

  Pamela ran to the building and grabbed what she could and was out again in four minutes. Duncan searched her to make sure she hadn’t stolen anything important, then pointed North. Pamela flipped us both off and ran down the street. I considered sending a shot down her way to speed her along, but figured it would be a waste of a bullet. I looked back at Duncan who was watching her run.

  “She’ll try to kill you again, if she gets the chance. You know that.” Duncan said.

  “Yeah, well, I’ll just add it to the list of things I need to keep an eye out for.” I went back to the vehicle and dragged Dane’s body out. As I bent over a shot whipped over me, ricocheting off the car and impacting into the roof of the parking lot. I dropped to one knee and drew my SIG, pivoting towards the threat, a second bullet whipping past my ear and putting a hole in the seat. I fired three times and watched Pamela’s body jerk with the impact. She screamed her rage at me and Duncan and crumpled to the ground, a dark stain spreading out over her chest. I kept my gun on her as I went closer and found she was still alive. She was drooling blood, and by the look of things, she wasn’t going to make it.

  “Fuck you and die, Talon,” was all she said, dropping her head back and coughing blood.

  I kicked her gun away, a small snub-nosed revolver. I looked her over then moved so she could see me. I bent down and quietly said, “You first.” I stood up and walked away, Pamela breathing her rattling last breath.

  Duncan just shook his head as I got into the car and fired it up. “She must have circled back through the pines. These kids today,” was all he said.

  I leaned out the window and shook his hand. “It’s the new math. It just messes with their heads.”

  Duncan waved ruefully as I pulled away. Looking in the rearview mirror I saw Duncan dragging Pamela’s body over to the burn area, and Dane’s body still on the blacktop. I shook my head at the whole thing and thanked God once again for Charlie’s instincts. I drove down the road towards my new home.

  When I got to the school, Sarah had a question in her eyes. I summed it up simply. “Duncan shot Blake, I shot Pamela.” Sarah just nodded. Gotta love a woman that understands.

  2

  The first week in Leport was an adjustment, as we went from comfortable condos to classrooms again, but it was necessary in order to finish the defenses for the town. Tommy and Charlie had tinkered with the backhoe and bulldozer for three days before they managed to get them running. Once they did, they dug a six foot wide, six foot deep trench around the perimeter of our town. That actually took a shorter amount of time than I expected. Tommy’s arm had healed pretty well, and Jason Coleman was nearly fully healed as well. John Reef, our plumber, spent several days figuring out how to turn off the water lines t
o the uninhabited part of town and focus it to the habitable. He informed me that if we could get a system working where we could get water up to the tower from the river, we could have running water in the homes. I pondered that one, but after a while had to admit I was stumped. I sent the question to Nate and he had nothing for me, either. Nate informed me they would be arriving in about a week, so we had better have some accommodations ready. Nate said sixty people were coming and that was twenty more than I thought. Oh well, we had the homes.

  I was keeping busy going house to house, making sure we were alone in our little slice of peace. During the thaw, the zombies that could move again were on the move and they had a weird habit of hiding out and waiting for something to happen. Sarah was helping Rebecca take care of the babies, and gave me more than a little grief for going out alone. But I reassured her I would be fine, that I needed to get this done before Nate arrived. Besides, I wasn’t alone; Mark Wells was coming with me today. He was going to see about establishing a power grid isolated to our immediate area. I welcomed the company and Sarah was satisfied. She gave me a hug before I left and refused to let go until I promised her I would come back.

  Mark and I were headed to the far eastern edge of our section of the town. We were going to go house to house and clear out any zombies we found. We weren’t looking for any supplies, but we would mark the houses where supplies and sundries could be found for pickup later. If we found any weapons, we would bring them back immediately, but I didn’t really expect to find any.

  With the weather being warmer, we needed to be as careful as ever, since the ghouls were definitely up and running. We stepped down Stephen Street and worked our way to Main Street, which would then take us to our starting point. We passed several homes and businesses, and Mark began to realize just how big of a task we had ahead of us.

  “We need to check all these homes?” he said, glancing around as we went downhill. We walked down the middle of the street, not because we could, but to give us the most room in case a zombie was ambling in the alleys. We hadn’t encountered any Z’s yet, but I knew they were around. Sounds where there shouldn’t be sounds and shuffling noises coming from open windows. It felt like the town was watching us, not only the walking dead, but the souls of the people who’d died here. I didn’t get the impression we were not wanted, but rather it was like the town was holding a collective breath, to see if we could actually make a stand here, and come back from possible extinction.

  “Yeah, we do. I wouldn’t want to give a home to some family that had zombies under the bed.” I swung my carbine to cover an alleyway, but relaxed as a mouse stepped out, looked at us, then rustled into the weeds. Good luck, little one. I thought. I had switched back to my trusted M1 Carbine, figuring we would be in close quarters mode for a while and the M1A wasn’t really suited for that, being a heavier caliber. Mark was armed with Dane Blake’s Mini-14. He wasn’t needing it anymore. We were also armed with our usual weapons, knives and close-in fighting tools. Over the winter I had taken a shine to Sarah’s little pickaxe, but not liking the short handle, I fashioned one a little longer for extended reach. Mark had the crowbar, so he would be opening the doors.

  Mark had taken to the training pretty well, and I trusted him to at least remain steady in case we got into a spot, but he had never gone one on one with a real Z yet. This little walk was as much a test of his ability, as it was of how the zombies had weathered the winter.

  We came to an intersection and stopped. A small group of six zombies were slowly making their way down the street. When they saw us, it was like a switch had been turned on, and they immediately began shuffling faster, groaning and reaching. They were desperate after their winter freeze, and wanted us badly.

  I wasn’t in the mood to accommodate. I tossed Mark the end of a fifteen foot rope I had with me and we spread out, running at the zombies. The rope took them about waist high, and we tumbled the lot of them. As they struggled to get up, I stepped up and crushed the skull of what might have been a teenager, while Mark nailed a guy in a torn up business suit. A second zombie joined the first as I slammed the pickaxe into the skull of a zombie who was getting slowly to his feet. Mark killed another one then retreated as the remaining two came at him in a rush. He ran down the center of the street, then turned to face his attackers.

  Sure enough, one was faster than the other, and they had spread out far enough for him to bury the hook end of the crowbar in the skull of the first zombie. Unfortunately, the crowbar stuck, and he couldn’t pull it out in time to get to the second zombie, a kid about thirteen or so years old. Mark pulled on the crowbar, but only succeeded in burying it deeper. He walked backwards, avoiding the kid, but dragging the dead zombie with him. The zombie kid got closer and Mark swung the dead Z around, knocking the kid down, and burying him under the body.

  Mark tugged and tugged, but couldn’t get the crowbar out. The other zombie struggled with the weight and began to get out from under the first. I walked up to the situation, and clobbered the kid with my pickaxe to the head. His struggles ceased and Mark finally managed to get the crowbar out. We wiped off the weapons and kept moving, with only the sound of our heavy breathing permeating the air. I don’t care what anyone says, fighting zombies wears you out. I was in as good a shape as I could be, but this had me breathing heavily. Maybe it was the adrenaline and the fear, mixed in with fighting for your life that took the toll. Whatever it was, I was somewhat spent.

  Mark wasn’t in any better shape. He had dragged that Z then swung it around, leaning back and breathing up to the sky, and coughing.

  After a minute, we had recovered and were moving again at a steadier pace. We passed several houses and businesses, and made our way to a huge condo complex at the end of the street. Walker Road was the intersection, and on the other side I could see the trench surrounding our portion of the town. While it worked great on keeping any outside zombies from wandering in, it was the ones still on the inside that concerned me. There were a lot of zombies and we had a lot of work to do.

  I checked the area around the complex and didn’t see any activity.

  “I wonder where all the zombies are?” Mark asked.

  “What do you mean?” I said, looking into a garage that had been left open. There were some garden tools, but nothing of interest.

  “I mean, this is a town with a population of over thirty thousand. We should have a lot of zombies here.”

  I thought about it for a minute as I checked the inside garage door to see if it was open. It wasn’t. “Good question. I guess a lot of these people just bugged out as soon as they could, given their proximity to the interstates and the river and canal.”

  “Where did they go?” Mark asked as he stepped up to the door with his crowbar.

  I shrugged. “My guess is they went to the state centers. Who knows? I’m sure the ones we run into around here are the ones that got left behind by friends and relatives. This was a big commuter town, with a lot of people living here who worked in Chicago, and we all know what happened there.”

  Mark nodded as he worked the crowbar. He and his wife had managed to get out of the city, but he would likely never forget what he had gone through to get out.

  The door popped open and we both stepped back. We didn’t hear anything, but that meant nothing. Stepping into the kitchen area, I looked around and motioned for Mark to move forward. He stepped in and headed for the stairs, while I checked the downstairs and the basement. The first floor was clear, and showed signs of a hurried exit. Supplies were scattered around, and some of the items were personal.

  I heard Mark moving around upstairs, but he hadn’t called for help, so I figured the upstairs was clear. I headed to the basement door and opened it. Immediately a decaying smell hit me, and I knew something was dead down there. Whether or not it was still moving was another matter. I grabbed a towel from the kitchen and threw it down the stairs. Nothing happened, and I didn’t hear any movement. I then took a fork and threw it down,
the metallic clatter ringing up as it hit the concrete floor. Nothing. I stepped down three steps and bent down to look under the wall. I shined my flashlight around and didn’t see anything so I went down the stairs quickly, bringing up my carbine and scanning the area quickly. The basement was cluttered, but nothing was moving. I looked around and saw a shape in the corner. Looking closely, I saw the decomposing body of a dog. I shook my head. They probably thought he would get out on his own. Instead he died waiting for his masters to return.

  I felt bad as I went up the stairs, wondering how many pets met their end that way. We had seen them in many homes, and I felt bad about all of them. They didn’t understand why they were abandoned, they just waited to die.

  I went back up and met with Mark, who told me the upstairs bedrooms were clear. We went outside and checked the rest of the complex, not finding anything untoward. I let Mark kill a zombie wandering the street. He moved in quickly, brushed aside the outstretched arms, and planted the crowbar in the back of its head. It went down without a sound, and he gave it another whack just to be sure. I knew we couldn’t knock them unconscious, as some people claimed, but it never hurt to double check.

  We decided to check out a recreation center before heading back to the school. We had secured a good piece of the area, and were going to wrap it up with the center.

  I approached the glass front doors and tested one. It was open, surprisingly, and we stepped inside. Skylights lit the dim interior, and we could see the first floor clearly; the offices and back rooms looked empty. A sign read ‘Courts’ and pointed down a big flight of stairs. Mark and I approached and listened for activity. We heard nothing and stepped down the rubberized stairs into the darkness of the basement. The skylights’ illumination could only reach so far, and it got darker the deeper we went. I flicked on my flashlight and Mark did the same. At the bottom of the stairs we went right and checked the offices and bathrooms. We could see signs of activity but nothing looked recent.