Rust, Gore, and The Junkyard Zombie Page 8

  If Chris had an actual plan, then he wasn’t sharing, not that it was actually all that strange. Once we got out of this, I was going to confront him about that. He was going to stop freaking keeping things from me, or I was going to leave him to his own stupidity.

  The depot door was standing slightly open, just enough for a slender person to slide into the depot without being noticed. Low lights flickering added a level of creep factor to an already creepy scene. The base was once a separate grid from the rest of Alexandria, so the power here was still strong.

  It looked like someone needed to change the bulbs. Though the area around it was crawling with the remnants of humanity, the depot itself was mostly empty. The depot was next to a garage, which was what the general had wanted us to clear. I was not sure if I gave two shits what they wanted, but it was still unknown what else they knew about the shit that had gone down. Chris thought that we needed to work with them for now, and while I was not happy with him, I knew he was right.

  The depot was much like a warehouse with boxes stacked along the wall and shelves along the center. The shelves had quite a few weapons stacked neatly in braces. The smell of gun oil and the faint trace of sulfur hung in the air. It was almost a throwback to the past for me. No zombies marred the memory of a life of discipline and violence that the depot held.

  The trip took less time than I expected. We circled through the garage to look for a vehicle to aid our return to where we left Lizzie and Shara. We quickly found a troop transport that would do. The troop transport was an older model built of heavier metal frames and body panels. Chris said that meant that the likelihood of the zombies getting in to us was a lot lower. The creatures were thick around the garage, far thicker than we expected. It was as if they could hear us inside the building.

  We loaded the rear of the truck with as much ammo and weaponry as we could. We figured it might go a long way toward helping the occupants to retake more of the base. We hauled as much paperwork about Patient Zero as we could find with us, hoping our Lizzie could make sense of it. Most of it had been in the cart from the barracks, though we had grabbed more paperwork from his room and the hospital office. I also had a bunch of samples in a bag to give her something she could look at. Though, to be honest, I was unsure of how she would be able to lab it up without the equipment. Chris had answered that by grabbing one of the microscopes from the hospital.

  Not that I really cared. We were stuck with it now. Even if we cured the problem, it would not stop the dead that were already walking. It would not stop the loss we had already seen. Most would say I was pessimistic, but I saw myself as realistic.

  Lizzie

  I had no patience for waiting, so I asked if they had any paperwork on the situation. Knowing that Shara could handle the radio, I figured that I would be of more assistance in search and research mode. I was rather pleased that there was quite a bit of files here. Most were budget and other such paperwork, but there were some files that pertained to Patient Zero.

  They arranged for me to be able to read what was available. By the time that Chris and Tara checked in from the hospital, I had cleared much of them as having nothing to do with Patient Zero or the dead. Oh, I scanned through it all. I have an eidetic memory, and you never know what will later be helpful. I found two files out of the five boxes they brought, although admittedly I only searched through two of them.

  I found the file on Patient Zero and decided that the rest was not as important.

  “In file: Patient carries a statue. Patient refuses to allow the nurses to remove it. Patient becomes agitated whenever anyone touches said statue. Statue has been scanned and though it has a minimal level of theta radiation coming off of it, there is no sign of any substance to illicit the patient’s response. Psychological evaluation recommended.”

  Immediately I called over the radio and told Chris about it. I figured if the statue was important to the patient that I might want to examine it closer. To be honest, I also found it interesting that the statue was emitting small amounts of theta radiation.

  I also asked Chris if he could grab one of the microscopes while he was at it. I was not sure what equipment these survivors had for such matters.

  “C’mon, Lizzie, how much do you expect of me?

  Seriously, already grabbed one.”

  I had to chuckle at his sarcastic exasperation. “Only the miracles that I know you are capable of!” I didn’t know what he was facing, but I knew that he would try to get me what I was asking for.

  “Well, we already left the hospital. We will circle back and grab, but I make no promises. There is a bunch of deadheads in there.”

  Considering the situation, I responded, “Okay, if you can’t get it safely, so be it. Be careful!” I sat there chewing my lip wondering if I had just put them in danger. I honestly believed that if I could understand the mind of Patient Zero, then perhaps I could understand what caused this. The answers were needed for peace of mind but also so I could figure out how to undo this.

  I finished reading the file. Apparently, the patient was a refugee from Saudi Arabia seeking asylum. I was not entirely sure what that meant for figuring this mess out, but I took note as every detail might matter in the long run.

  Chris updated us about half an hour later. “Lizzie bear, we got your statue, a microscope, and some samples. We are heading back. Let the general know so that they can be ready to let us in.”

  The general was in the room, so he nodded and quickly left to inform those at that gate of the approaching duo. Shara quickly followed the general, and I chose to wait a few seconds more. The people here had kept to their word, but it remained to be seen as to what we would discover once Chris and Tara returned.

  I made sure that I had the file in my stuff so if there was an issue we would still be able to read through it. I did not want to be so suspicious, but I was being extra careful. I really did poorly in interacting with people.

  The relief I felt as Chris came over the radio to tell us that they were within the boundary was nearly blinding. My heart was pounding at an elevated rate. I found myself forcing my system to calm, for the baby’s sake. Once I was under control, I proceeded out to greet my siblings and hopefully find some answers.

  Tara

  The guards letting us back into the safe zone were staring at us like we were super-powered. I ignored the stares in favor of hugging my suddenly clingy niece. Shara was standing there with the guards and jumped up and hugged me and her father as soon as we climbed out of the truck. I found my anger at Chris melting away as I watched how happy Shara was at having us back.

  After hugging her tightly, Chris barked into the radio, “Hey, Lizzie. We are back, and you aren’t at the gate? C’mon, kiddo, we need you with us.”

  The heavy worry in his voice told me that he had been expecting her here when we got here. I loved my brother, but I saw deeper into his soul in that moment than I had before.

  His whole life was those he protected, and as mad as I had been for his carelessness, I could see he was beating himself up internally for the mistake. It allowed my anger to dissipate like steam on a hotplate. When Lizzie came running up, she looked disheveled and tired. It was more than the run. I could see her eyes were overly relieved.

  It meant that she was working herself into a state of worry. Shara clung tightly to me as Chris turned to hug Lizzie. I wondered if there was something that we were missing. They each seemed like they were hiding something. I would figure it out when there were less outside eyes.

  After reassuring himself that both of our girls were safe, Chris turned and faced the general. “Okay, we cleared about half of the hospital. Those we didn’t clear inside are locked up. We cleared quite a few between here and the hospital, but if you decide to send people in, advise caution. The truck we brought back can be reinforced to allow for troop transport. I filled the fuel tank before leaving the garage area.”

  The general smiled and nodded. “We are pleased to welcome you fo
r as long as you choose to stay, and if you choose to leave, we will help you to re-provision as best we can.”

  Chris, apparently feeling the tension in Lizzie and Shara, put a plastic friendly expression on his face and jauntily spoke. “We will take your hospitality for one more night, as Tara and myself could use the rest. Then we really should return home. We have people depending on us.”

  Though he nodded, I noted that the general’s soft baby blues looked stony as Chris spoke. I didn’t know if staying even a single night was all that good an idea. I decided that I should wait until we were alone to express my concern.

  Once we were alone in the bunk they had given us, we all tried to talk at once. “What is going on?”

  “We can’t trust them.”

  “I know where Patient Zero started.”

  “What did you find, Lizzie?”

  The confusion deepened by our questions overlapping. With a sigh, Chris looked at Lizzie. “Lizzie, you go first...and please include what you found.”

  He motioned toward the bags we brought into the room with us. Lizzie seemed to consider everything before she dug into what we brought her. I swear I saw her in that moment again as five years old tearing into the presents on Christmas morning.

  She plugged the microscope in and started to examine the samples, speaking as she worked. “Well, I read through the files that were available here. I see you found some medical files. I will get to those momentarily. The file that was here was a request for asylum. Patient Zero was an archaeologist and historian from Saudi Arabia and had political information on the area. The file indicated that approval was likely, as his father was an American serviceman. The object was something that he had paid to sneak through customs, claiming it to be a family heirloom. Though the object was scanned, there was no evidence of a biological contaminant or any explosive weaponry hidden within. This meant that they let him keep it. It was emitting low amounts of theta radiation, but not anything that would have been worrisome. Then after he became ill, the object became a focus. He would get upset if anyone tried to remove it.”

  She paused and looked at Chris to be sure he was still paying attention. “I am of the opinion that we will find that said object has a link to the situation. Which is why he would not let them take it. The biological samples you brought are the same as the ones I examined at home. So our answers will likely come from the other sources.”

  Upon hearing that, my heart fell to my feet. I had held out hope that somehow Lizzie would pull a miracle out of her ass. It was not enough to break me, but it was enough to hurt.

  Lizzie seemed to sense the tension in the room, so she brought out the file she had stashed away. “This is the information I have. If we add it to what you have brought from the hospital, we should get a clearer picture. Wanna switch reading, Chris?”

  Chris responded with a shrug, but I could tell that he was interested in what Lizzie's file held. Lizzie took the hospital files and handed Chris hers. It was the most uncomfortable ten minutes while they read their files. Shara had already curled up and was watching the door nervously. I was staring at my siblings while they read and feeling incredibly left out.

  Lizzie was the first to finish. She looked up and smiled at me gently. I knew she understood how left out I felt, but there was nothing she could do to fix it. I was far from the brain in the family. Don’t get me wrong, I am not dumb. Just lost in the technical jargon one finds on medical charts.

  Chris finished and sighed. “You get anything new from those files?”

  Lizzie nodded. “He wasn’t sick initially. Originally, he was admitted for a basic health screening. He was not even supposed to be here overnight. It appears that he became symptomatic within an hour of arriving. High fever, glazed eyes, strange rash on his left side. Within an hour after the fever started, he officially died. They couldn't get a heart rate. Yet as he was still mobile, he was thought to still be alive. They strapped him to the bed, as he was biting. As long as the statue was within sight, he was mostly docile after being strapped down. He would not take food, and he would bite if anyone came close enough. These people have obviously never seen any Romero flicks. They had no idea what he was.”

  Chris swore softly and then nodded for Lizzie to continue.

  “The situation, as you can imagine, took less than a few hours to devolve into the current mess. The date of his admittance is the day before Jimbo died. This mess was less than a day becoming the chaos that we live with now.”

  Chris nodded sadly. Slowly, he stated, “You know what this means. If he wasn’t sick when he arrived, then he had to get whatever this is in Saudi. We want answers...that is where the fucking answers are.”

  His statement hit me like a ton of bricks. Back to fucking Saudi Arabia? He had to be kidding. Staring at them, I blurted my thoughts out without thought. “Really?! You are really considering us going to fucking Saudi Arabia? We don’t know if this is even going on outside the U.S. Can’t we, like, fucking check satellite footage or some shit? And how in the hell do you expect us to fly there? Aren’t the airports all closed?”

  Chris chuckled and responded with a lighter tone. “Okay, calm down, Squid. We can check the satellite footage. Though I am not sure how much it will help. Though the airports are closed, there is still planes. I am a capable pilot, most of the time. Checking satellite feeds will help us to determine how to deal with things on the other side.

  “I want to return to the junkyard and check in, then we will plan from there. If you don’t want to go, I understand. We need answers, and this is how we get them.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, and Chris held up a hand. “We need to do some connections here before we go home. I want to pick up certain supplies. So, this is a longer-term plan, the idea that we may be only able to find answers there.”

  Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t have PTSD or any crap like that. I just hated the desert the first time I was there. Returning seemed like a crazy idea. Yet, I knew if Chris went, I would never allow him to go alone.

  Shara

  Dad and Tara came back from the hospital acting strange. They were acting like they were arguing and did not want us to know. Lizzie had spent most of the time they were gone looking through files. With the three adults basically gone, and the radio I was using being wireless, I decided to explore slightly. It was actually a good thing that I did. I overheard the general and one of his people discussing why he was trusting us.

  The longer I listened, the more I knew we needed to get out of here. This was not a safe place for us. Apparently, females were in short supply for this group. The general spoke of killing Dad, and confining us for breeding uses. When we got back to our bunk area and I was sure we weren’t going to be overheard, I told Dad and my aunts what I had heard. Dad listened with a scowl on his face. I think that he expected it, but confirmation obviously sat poorly on him. He nodded until I was done and then he smiled.

  “Well, time to resupply and get the hell outta here. Lizzie, did you get the map while you were going through the files? We really don’t have time to be running around blind.” Aunt Lizzie slyly smiled and gave a quiet nod.

  Aunt Lizzie slyly smiled and gave a quiet nod. “They let me have access to all the files. I guess that they saw me as nonthreatening. All the better for us.”

  I was amazed at what I was hearing … apparently the adults had plans that I was not aware of. Not really all that strange. I think they often forgot that I existed. It did me no good to remind them that they were talking over me, again. I doubted they would change their behaviors anyway.

  They pulled out the map and started poring over it. They discussed where we could find the equipment we needed for satellite access from home. Dad had planned to take what we needed—to do what we needed—with us when we went home. Tara would be driving our tank, and he planned to take a troop carrier to give us some room for supplies.

  Lizzie would ride with Tara, and I would ride with Dad. I was not sure if Dad inten
ded to take the troop carrier that he and Tara had brought back or if he intended to snag a different one. All I was sure of was we were going to snag equipment and haul ass toward the junkyard.

  A good bit of their plans just flowed over my head, almost as if I was not involved. Perhaps because I knew in the end that I would just follow Dad, and all would be good in my world. I found my mind wandering back home, wondering how everyone in the junkyard was. Though I knew Mom and the others could take care of themselves, I still worried about them. It didn’t take long for the three adults to hash out their plan and then start putting it in action. The gist was that Tara and Lizzie would draw the attention and head to the tank. Dad and I would sneak to the troop transport. We needed to be stealthy. We didn’t want any trouble because we were trying to snag equipment that we did not have permission to take. I doubt they would have been willing to allow us to take it anyway. Not that Dad would let them stop us. If he set his mind on something, he did not stop until it was done. I felt like we were stealing, but our family's survival meant a lot more to me than my moral high ground.

  Dad was relying on Aunt Lizzie for the tech items we needed. He was likely relying on Aunt Tara for raiding the weaponry. I didn’t know what he wanted me to get, if anything. He would probably have me watching the vehicle. It felt like he was protecting me, again.

  Though I wanted to be angry about it, I understood his reason. If we were all away from the truck, then we would likely lose it. Lizzie would be doing her thing from inside the tank with Dad acting as her hands. We were doing this in a coordinated strike, but it felt like I was being left behind. Silly, right? For all his brilliance, sometimes I thought my Dad had forgotten what it was like to be a kid.

  Lizzie

  Chris’s plans irritated me, even as I saw the logic behind them. Going with the flow was not my strong suit, and before the night was done, I believed that my every nerve would be tested. Still my brother used true logic in his explanation and was more patient than usual.