Storiesonline.net ------- Karma by carioca Copyright© 2011 by carioca ------- Description: What goes around comes around, a common theme in zombie stories. A character does something to someone else and receives karmic payback for what they did... ...Joel is in a tight spot, on the run in a world full of walking dead. No car, no ammo, and almost out of food. It's a desperate situation, and a man does what he has to if he wants to survive, doesn't he? Codes: PostApoc tears zom Mil ------- ------- Chapter 1 Joel heard the moans just before the wind wafted the familiar smell of death through the trees. He froze, listening for the shuffling footsteps he dreaded, then, hearing nothing, moved uphill, off the road. He waited, concealed under the hanging branches of a pine, watching. Nothing moved on the road below him, but he could still hear the faint moaning. It came from the direction he was headed. He had to check it out, but he knew what lay behind him at the off-ramp. He hadn't really believed it when he'd first heard the rumors a few days ago, The dead coming back to life ... who would? He'd figured it must be some exaggeration, just part of the mass hysteria over the latest flu. Until he'd seen it for himself... He cut off that line of thought. He might just be able to slip past the ones up ahead. The trees grew fairly close together on the hill above the road. If they retained the same instincts as most live people, they wouldn't look up. Hand tightening on the crowbar, Joel moved silently to the next tree. This one stood a little higher on the mountainside. He repeated this action for the next ten minutes, with a pause between each quiet movement to listen. They were making plenty of noise, along with the moans, there was a muffled pounding. During one of the pauses, a flash of sunlight off metal caught his eye. A red SUV was upside-down, wrapped around a tree on the far side of the road. The impact had sprung the doors open, and blood trails led up the slope to the blacktop. That accounted for their presence, but why the moans and thumping? He looked for the next tree, but to get to it he would have to cross a near vertical ridge of outcropping granite. It climbed the mountain as far as he could make out, but seemed lower, and less shear farther downhill. Joel stayed low, keeping a clump of bushes between himself and the road while he moved, then hunkered down behind the ridge. The moans and pounding seemed to come from just the other side of the outcropping rocks. Joel dug into his 72-hour kit, pulled out a mirror, and taped it to his crowbar. He crept noiselessly until he caught another flash of metal on the far side of the road. He lifted the mirror until he could see the guardrail, then twisted it back and forth, scanning the road. An open topped jeep lay crumpled on the far side. A long smear of paint on the guardrail and skid marks on the road showed its path to where it stood, silent. A body lay in the road, head smashed, probably by the SUV. The dead gathered around a sedan that had smashed into the cliff almost directly under Joel's vantage point. It was a good twenty feet below him, nearly straight down. They banged on the windows, moaning. They wanted in, and paid no attention to their surroundings. There must be someone inside, or they'd be wandering around. He might just be able to help whoever was trapped. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Joel hefted a lump of granite and stood, preparing to throw it across the road. He knew how big a risk he was taking, and hesitated. There were nine of them below, but they were slow, some of them crippled by broken bones. One of them, dressed in jeans and a faded BDU jacket forced another out of his way and pounded on the rear driver's side window in frustration. Bloodstains on the tattered jacket showed where he'd been bitten. Joel, stopped himself in mid-throw, as a new sound came to him. A baby, crying, scared. That changed everything. He crouched down and studied the car closer. The windshield was cracked, nearly shattered. Blood stained the inside. He could just make out long blonde hair on the driver. She, he assumed it was a she, didn't move. Probably there was enough damage that the driver wouldn't rise. He hoped that was the case. Quietly he stripped the mirror off his crowbar and stuffed it back in his bag. Carefully judging the distance, he hurled the rock down at the head of the zombie that had been pushed farthest from the car. With luck the others wouldn't notice it fall. He ducked back before the sound came to him, and scooped up another piece of granite. The moans were unchanged, so he took the risk, looking over the edge. The creature, a slightly built woman in jeans, was down, unmoving. He selected a man in a ball cap and threw, ducking again. He knew without looking that he'd missed this time, but the persistent moans and pounding made him hope he could pull it off. Using a two hand grip he lifted a large chunk of granite and hurled it. He momentarily lost his balance and teetered while the rock smashed his target's head. Emboldened by his success, he took out two more before it happened. While moving into a new vantage point, his foot slipped on the lichen covered surface and a trickle of gravel rattled down the mountainside. One of the five remaining zombies followed the trickle with its blank eyes and moaned excitedly when it saw him. Abandoning its efforts to break into the sedan, instead it started crawling up the slope towards him. The others noticed, and except for the one wearing the BDU jacket, followed its example. They weren't very good climbers, but by the time he had a rock ready, he could see they probably would make it eventually, despite their slipping and sliding down the slope, there were plenty of handholds on the moss covered mountainside. Fortunately, eventually was longer than he needed. He dispatched the last of the four long before it reached the halfway point. The fifth, the one that had been on the other side of the car was gone. A chill rand down his back, and he whirled, snatching up his crowbar. Its moans came to him from downhill. It forced its way through the brush that lined the edge of the road, and practically shrieked when it saw him. Joel ran uphill, scooping up his bag and heading for a clump of young pines. He'd seen them try to do things they'd done in life, but nothing that looked like real thinking. Could it have flanked him on instinct? Some remnant of military training that lived on in its dead brain? Joel scrambled under the pines, ran uphill a bit more, then cut left jumping into a draw that he'd passed only minutes before. He crouched in the shadow of a pine and tried to control his breathing. He heard it thrashing in the pine branches, then only silence. When he couldn't hear it anymore, he used the mirror to watch it make its way uphill, moving in the same direction he'd been headed when it last saw him. He waited until it was out of sight, moved up into a crouch, and crept downhill as silently as he could. Nothing moved on the road. Encouraged, he walked as quick as he could, minimizing the sound of his well broken in combat boots on the road, until he had the wrecks in sight. Nothing moved. The jeep was obviously empty, and while he couldn't see anyone in the SUV, he would hear if anything tried to climb up through the crushed vegetation to reach the road. The sedan was another matter. The trunk had popped open, and blocked his view to the interior. He figured the accident was caused by the SUV trying to pass the Jeep. Car dodges the SUV, hits the cliff, and the SUV slams the Jeep into the guardrail, then ... A muffled sob from the sedan interrupted his thoughts. Giving each of the bodies an extra whack in the head, he made his way to the drivers' side. The windows were smeared with mud, blood and an unrecognizable slime, but he could make out a small blond boy in a car seat who reached for the driver and cried. The driver was either dead or unconscious; her head had hit the windshield when she crashed, leaving a bloodstained star of broken glass. There was a bigger boy in the front with her, held upright by the seatbelt, head dangling. Cautiously, he tried the back door, and on finding it locked, the front as well. There was still no movement on the road, and no sound but the crying of the baby and the wind in the pines. The noise he made shattering the glass was drowned out by a cry of terror from the baby. Joel set the crowbar on the roof of the sedan, and checked the blonde woman for a pulse. She was dead, and had been long enough to grow cold. The older boy looked to be six or even eight, and when his head moved, Joel thought he might be alive, but the lifeless eyes and snapping jaw told him otherwise. The poor kid's neck must have snapped when they hit. But the baby was definitely alive. Also squirmy, soaking wet and stinking. He freed the kid from the restraints, and pulled him, No her, from the car. It was the earrings that gave it away. She quieted some after he picked her up, and clung as he tried to comfort her. "Hey lil' one, I bet you're thirsty." She snatched at his water bottle when she saw it, and a partial set of teeth showed when she opened her mouth to drink. While she guzzled the last of his water, he spotted a diaper bag between the front seats. Inside, he found the essentials and a faded blue onesy. Changing her was a noisy, awkward business, no telling how long she'd been sitting in it. Cleaning the bleeding sores made him wince and her howl. He finished, doing up the snaps then reaching for her. She grabbed his hands, pulling herself up, the strands of hair that weren't matted down wisped around her head like a fuzzy golden halo. Joel lifted the tiny girl, marveling at how light she was. She watched him curiously with china blue eyes. Her tiny fingers reached out to his face, shy but unafraid, and tugged at his week's growth of whiskers. He gently pulled her hand away. "What's your name girl?" He didn't expect an answer. "Me Tye-Tye" "Tye-Tye?" She pointed to her chest, "Me Tye-Tye, Me bi' duirl." He almost dropped her as she leaned backwards, reaching for the car. "Mama seep, Am-Am seep." Joel's eyes filled with water, and he held her tight, his cheek touching the top of her head. "That's right, mama's asleep." He carried her around to the back of the car, wanting to check for anything he could use, and not wanting to put her down, or leave her loose in the car with what was left of her brother. A stroller, perfect. He could put her in that and not worry about her wandering off while he checked out the cars. He reached for it and heard her say very distinctly, "Bad Guy." Then she screamed as a roar of primal hunger sounded behind him. Joel froze, only for a second, or half a second. It felt like an eternity as his stunned mind tried to figure out what to do with the girl, and remember where he'd put his crowbar. However long it was, it was enough to the creature to close most of the gap before Joel turned around. He barely had enough time to bring up his right arm to hold the dead man off. It was the one in the BDU top, the fat one. When it hit him, he fell backwards into the trunk, hitting his head hard on the lid. Stars flashed in his vision, and when he recovered from the impact, his elbow was planted firmly in the things neck and the baby was screaming in his ear. The fetid breath of the fat man made him want to puke, but he grit his teeth, grabbed the BDU jacket, and rolled in the direction the zombie was pushing, dropping the baby on top of the stroller as he fell. He landed on top, pulled his empty .45 from its holster and started hammering at the thing's skull with the butt while it clawed futilely at his insulated leather jacket. Finally, with a thunk and a spray of goo, he broke its head open and instead of trying to pull him closer, it only twitched. He got off it, and kicked until it stopped, no sense in taking chances. Wiping his hands and weapon clean on the tail of its BDU shirt, he scanned for more. He didn't see anything, and heard nothing but the baby whimpers and the rustle of the trees against each other. Under the stroller was a box of food, mostly crackers and dry cereal, but much better than the nothing he'd had all day. The girl, heedless of the zombies, struggled to open a box of cookies. He reached to open it, and thought better of it, looking at his hands. People bitten by them turned, could any bodily fluid do it? He shuddered and grabbed a gallon plastic container of gas from the trunk. If anything could kill whatever it was, scrubbing his hands with gas should do the trick. Once clean, he opened the cookies for her and left her siting next to the stroller inside the open trunk. Joel put on his gloves, picked up his crowbar from the roof of the car, and searched the bodies scattered around. The fat man had a shoulder holster, but no weapon or even ammo. One of the dead men had half a brick of .22LR in a jacket pocket, and another, the woman he'd hit with the first rock, had a butt-pack with three bottles of water and a pouch of dehydrated apples. It all went into his bag. By the time he got back to the girl, she was asleep, a half eaten cookie in each hand. He unfolded the stroller, wrapped her in a grass stained blanket and laid her in it. The food from the box went into the net underneath, as did half a bag of diapers. She slept peacefully, dry and full for the first time in more than a day as Joel checked out the car. The diaper bag was a no-brainer. He hesitated momentarily over the filthy clothes she'd been wearing, but he hadn't found any others so he triple bagged them in plastic shopping bags hoping he could wash them later. It could get really cold in the mountains at night. He hesitated, and then hoping someone would do the same for him, used the crowbar on the boy. It was awkward, and took him three tries in the cramped space. No one on the road, and she was still sleeping. Her mother had a revolver, he swung it open, and read the cartridges, .38. Only two of the primers were undented. No ammo in the glove box either, and no purse in sight, but the car was registered to a Melissa Corbett. He took the paperwork so the girl would at least have something to identify her. Feeling more confident now that he had something more than a crowbar, he checked the body in the middle of the road. His hopes soared when he saw the pump shotgun, but the barrel was bent, and the action didn't work. But now he had couple dozen twelve-gauge shells in his bag and hoped he'd find something to use them in. The other vehicles were farther down the road, back the way he'd come. Not wanting to leave the baby alone, he hung the diaper-bag on the stroller and headed for the Jeep. They wouldn't be driving away, that was for sure. The puddle of oil under the sedan and the location of the SUV made it obvious they couldn't be used, but he'd had hopes for the Jeep. After all it was upright, and had scraped to a stop along the guardrail. It looked fine from the back, and from the side, but the right front wheel had caught on something and was bent out at thirty or forty degrees. He got down to look at the suspension, and recoiled in fear, cursing as a dead hand brushed his sleeve. One of them was trapped upside down between the Jeep and the guardrail. Once his breathing was under control, he took another look from farther away, then climbed into the jeep, leaned over the rail, past the zombie's wiggling foot, and hit it in the back of the head. The wiggling stopped. Jackpot! The back of the Jeep was littered with junk but there were a half dozen M-16 magazines mixed in. and he'd seen ... Joel climbed down over the guardrail, and found what he hoped. He had to cut the sling to get it off the man, but the much battered AR-15 was a welcome sight. Instinctively he dropped the magazine and cleared the weapon. The round in the chamber pinged off the dash, and fell on the rubberized floorboard with a muffled thunk. The fancy sight was shattered, the butt-stock scraped up, and one of the hand-guards was cracked, but the barrel seemed straight even if it was filthy. The function check went flawlessly, but that didn't prove anything with a weapon as ill maintained as this one. There was actually rust on the barrel. Still, it was better than nothing. The magazine was half empty, but he picked up the round from the floor, loaded it in and seated the magazine in the well. The magazines on in the back proved to be empty, and a search turned up only a single stripper clip, some well used brass, and some dented rounds that indicated the weapon had a tendency to jam. But they all did that if you didn't clean them. There was no food, no water, one can of beer, and half a canteen of some vile smelling ethanol. Well, probably ethanol. The glove box held a welcome shape, but the cardboard box of .45 ACP held only three rounds. Joel used them to load his own M1911 and checked under the Jeep. The tie-rod was bent, if he had a blowtorch and some wrenches he could straighten it out, but without either, the Jeep wasn't going to take them anywhere. On the road not thirty yards from the Jeep, he found the fat man's pistol, a five shot .45 revolver. Each chamber held an empty cartridge. It was old, but in good condition. He put it under the stroller, it might be good for something later, but no sense carrying it. He hid the stroller under a tree, and made his way down to the SUV. He found half a loaf of stale bread, two gallons of spoiled milk, and three suitcases of womens clothes. The bread and a stack of t-shirts went back up the hill with him. ------- Chapter 2 The little girl wiggled. Joel snapped awake, and would have fallen out of the tree if he hadn't thought to tie himself into the net he'd woven out of 550-cord the night before. He was cold and stiff, his legs were swollen from dangling over the branch while he slept. She wiggled again, squirming, trying to get her head out from inside his jacket. He unzipped it a little and a little pixie face popped out. She looked at him, puzzled, then snuggled her head back down on his chest. He grunted his way to a lower branch, and recovered the net. They'd probably have to use it again. Carefully he lowered himself to the ground and unzipped his jacket the rest of the way. The woman's shirt he'd put on her reached the ground and she stumbled as she walked towards the stream they'd reached the night before. "Me wa' dink" He headed her off, and gave her one of the bottles instead. He hadn't dared start a fire the night before for fear the light might attract passing zombies, or other two legged predators. They needed to boil some more water though. He used dry wood and kept it small, to minimize the smoke. What little it did put out should be dispersed by the tree branches above. She stared in fascination, but didn't reach for it. When he set up a pot of water over it, she yelled at him. "Hot! Hot!" He chuckled. "Yes, it's hot, don't touch" "No tuch, hot!" Downstream from where he'd gotten the water, he picked up stones and retrieved her clothes. After wringing them out, he hung them on stakes near the fire. Breakfast was stale bread toasted over the fire and a juice box for the baby. The boiled water refilled their water bottles with enough left over for them to 'share' a cup of hot chocolate. After, she threw rocks into the stream while he inventoried what they had. He dumped all the outer wrappers for the food, and put what would fit into his bag along with all the water. The rest went into the stroller along with most of the diapers. He emptied the diaper bag out onto the ground in front of him. On the top of the pile was a crumpled crayon drawing. Three people in front of a house, with labels, 'Mommy', 'Sam - Me', and the smallest, 'Tyler'. Joel's hands shook as he carefully folded the picture. "Tyler?" he called. "Wha?" He swallowed hard. "Come here Tyler" She lurched over and plopped herself down in his lap. He sorted through the pile tossing crumpled school flyers and tissues to one side. Mixed in with the jumble of diapers he found a fat wallet and a baggy with a handful of .38 ammo. His hands worked blindly reloading the .38 while he blinked away tears. What was left he put in his pocket, eleven rounds total, twenty-three for the now clean AR-15, and three for his pistol. The folded picture he put carefully in the now empty bag. He saved the wallet for last. When Tyler saw her mother's drivers license, she shouted and stabbed her teeny fingers at the picture. "Mama!" He took it from behind the clear cover and handed it to her. The credit cards and the money, he left, but he found three photos. One of Tyler, who amongst the spate of jabber he'd provoked, exclaimed "Me, Me". One of the boy, who she called Am, and another off the two of them together with their mother. He took all three of the pictures put them in the ziplock and then in an outside pocket of his bag. Joel spent another twenty minutes working with the 550-cord. When he was done, he had a kind of support on the outside of his jacket. Tyler would be safest if he carried her, but he needed both hands free. He loaded the bags onto the stroller, and moved it down to the road. Walking in the spring sunshine, he sang softly to Tyler. The night before it had kept her quiet, and if he kept it low it wouldn't carry very far. "I left Rome for Lalage's sake By the Legions' Road to Rimini, She vowed her heart was mine to take With me and my shield to Rimini..." " ... It's twenty-five marches to Narbo, It's forty-five more up the Rhone, And the end may be death in the heather Or life on an Emperor's throne. But whether the Eagles obey us..." Joel stopped suddenly and tried to calm his breathing. He'd pushed hard all day, and they'd been going mostly uphill for the last hour. The noise was coming from ... that way. He left the stroller and walked to the edge of the road, where it overlooked the valley they'd come from. He saw a flash of reflected light, and knowing where to look, he found the source quickly with his binoculars. They were small, but good enough to make out the little convoy. Three cars, four pickups, a van, and a panel truck. At first he was relieved, they would be much safer with a big group. But there was something wrong. He decided to trust his gut. Tyler was asleep, head snuggled up to his chest. He hid the stroller behind a tree, and lay her in it, then climbed up to get a better look. A discordant jumble of music reached him as the convoy came around another bend. He couldn't make anything out, but if he could hear if from that far away it had to be loud. That was a bad sign. He studied them until they were out of sight again. Unless they turned around, they would pass right by in less than ten minutes. They weren't moving particularly fast, but the engines sounded louder than they should. It wasn't until they came around the last bend, and were directly across from his position that he spotted it. The panel truck had 'MS-13' spray-painted across it in letters three feet high, and two of the cars flew Mexican flags. Joel practically dropped to the ground, and hid by the stroller. They passed by, music booming. The noise woke Tyler up, but they didn't hear her cry for her mama. An hour or so later, Joel heard faint gunshots far ahead. ------- They spent the night in a small cave, high up a cliff. Tyler got the last of the juice boxes with breakfast. Then dressed in her overalls, he let her hold his hand and walk until she got tired. It was mid-afternoon when they saw the first zombie. This one wandered aimlessly back and forth across the road, stopping each time it reached the edge of the blacktop before turning downhill and lurching onward. Blood stained its plaid shirt and baggy pants. Joel whispered "Shhh..." and darted off the road with Tyler. He eased the action of the AR open and slid it slowly forward to chamber a round, using the forward assist to seat it fully. Hopefully it would just pass them by. Tyler had other ideas. "Wan down' she said and tried to do a back flip to reach the ground. Frustrated by the harness he'd rigged, She grunted and tried again. Joel used his left hand to hold her still. "Shh, bad guy coming, hide" She echoed his words and burrowed into his jacket, but the damage was done, it lurched straight at them, moaning. He fired one careful round that sprayed blood and brains over the road, and moved farther back into the brush. Over the echoing shot, he heard more moans. "Shh hide." He whispered again and held still. Three more of them came around the next bend, two of them passed right by, but the third stopped and stared at the stroller. She tried to push it. Joel had locked the wheel when they stopped to prevent it rolling down the hill and making noise, so it only tipped, spilling its contents across the road. From his position he heard her rummage, then saw her wander off downhill, clutching a diaper. He waited a full five minutes after the last one was out of sight before he moved back to the road. Poking at the pockets of the corpse with the muzzle of the AR revealed nothing obvious. This one had been shot before it turned, so they must be close to yesterday's shooting. He repacked the stroller, and set off again. Another half mile down the road, he spotted the tracks of the convoy where they had pulled off onto a side road, then come back and kept going. A sign by the side of the road announced 'Sulfur Springs Mine and Museum. Pan for gold! $5'. A smaller sign tacked to it read 'Closed'. The gate had been locked until recently; it looked like someone had tried to shoot the lock off, and then rammed the gate. The lock had withstood two shots, but the hinges had pulled right out of the fence posts. He could follow the gang, or go where they had been. He moved off the road and found a sheltered place to think. Tyler started to fuss, so he gave her some crackers to keep her busy, it was past time for lunch anyway. That brought it home. At the rate they were eating, they would be out of food in a few days. According to the map there was a small town farther on, but he had planned on reaching it already. As slow as he was moving now, it was a good five days away. And when he got there? MS-13 might still be there, it might be overrun with zombies, or both. As for this place, it was only a mile away, at least according to the sign. MS-13? No, he didn't think they would split up. Zombies? Maybe, but probably not too many if the place was closed. Other survivors? That was what he needed anyway, Tyler was too young to leave anywhere alone, and prone to burble. As if on cue, she pulled on his whiskers. She looked at him seriously, made sure she had his full attention, and announced in a loud voice. "Me poopy." She made it sound like something to be proud of. He definitely needed someone to share the duties with. ------- Chapter 3 Up the dirt road he found one of the gang's cars. The flag it had flown was trampled into the mud, and it had been stripped. Literally stripped, the wheels were gone as was the battery. From the way the gas cap lay open, he suspected the gas had been taken as well ... Someone had even drained the oil out of the pan. The radiator had a big hole in it, and the windshield was shattered. Farther along, barrels full of rock and dirt blocked most of the road. A car could get past, and from the tracks several had, but it would have to slow down. He left the stroller at the side of the road, and stepped cautiously between the barrels. The valley narrowed to a point here, and a fence ran from one steep hillside to another. The sheer rocky ridge it connected would have to be climbed to get to the other side of the pass, and the fence itself was more than eight feet tall and made of sheet steel. The road led straight up to it, ending in a sliding gate about twelve feet wide. He waited for a minute and when nothing happened he closed half of the last forty yards. Nothing... He took another step forward, and called out, but not loud enough to echo, "Hello the gate!" He spotted movement through one of the holes near the top of the wall, and a man's voice answered. "What do you want?" Joel expected the question and had already thought through his answers, best to start with the truth. "A place to stay, or maybe some food." "Don't have either, go away and don't come back, we've got you covered." He'd half expected that response, especially after what must have happened yesterday. There were at least two people behind the wall, someone covered him from a loophole while the other talked. Judging by the bullet holes in the wall, there must be sandbags back there as well, or they wouldn't still be using the same position. "I'll trade for it, you have any canned milk? Or fruit? Juice?" There was murmuring behind the wall, and his hopes rose for a moment, but the man ordered him away again. It had been worth a try, but it wasn't worth it to keep trying, their next step would probably be a warning shot, but he didn't trust them to miss. Keeping his hands where they could see them, he turned and walked back to the barricade. He retrieved the stroller and started back down the road. He'd only gone a few yards when a shout stopped him. "Wait! Why milk?" Joel turned around, the new voice belonged to an older woman, a heavyset brunet with graying hair. She held a scoped rifle in her hands, not pointed at him, but not pointed away either. He could just make out the sound of the first voice "We agreed to send him away, He looks just like those others." Even from fifty yards Joel could tell she was exasperated, She carried out a hushed argument with the man behind the wall and finally cut him off. "That was before, I want to talk to him." She waved one handed to Joel, "Come back here and tell me why you want milk, there's no baby in that." In answer, he unzipped his coat so Tyler's head and shoulders could be seen. The woman laughed. "I thought you were just fat." Joel took a chance and walked slowly back to where he'd stood before, bringing the stroller with him this time. The couple were arguing again, but the woman didn't look away from him at all. That was actually a good sign, this group was taking security seriously even if they were somewhat relaxed in their attitudes. He was close enough now to catch some of their conversation. "How do we know he isn't one of them?" "Harold, I know you have a nasty suspicious mind, but look at him, he's a nice young man, even if he does need a shave, and he has a baby to take care of." "I still say no." "Then Mel decides, we agreed on that when we got here." "Fine, you go get Mel, and I'll cover him." The woman shook her head. "I know you, you'll try to run him off. You go get Mel." There was grumbling, but through the holes in the wall, Joel saw someone climb down and walk away. "Young man, if you'll be so kind as to put down your rifle, I'll put mine down and we'll talk like civilized people." He told her about his escape from the city, the pile up at the overpass, how he'd walked, found the baby and hidden from the MS-13 convoy. Before he finished with the last, several people arrived, but didn't say anything. So he continued, explained about hearing the shooting and why he'd come to them. There was a murmuring discussion behind the wall. The woman, who had long since ceased to be wary of him, looked down and said, "What do you think Mel?" In answer, there was a metallic click, then a rumble as the gate rolled open. He noticed the semi-auto shotgun first, then the uniform, ACU trousers, boots, brown t-shirt and army ACU cap with subdued sergeant's stripes sewn on. Then he noticed what was in the t-shirt and with an effort lifted his eyes to meet china blue ones in an elfin face framed by golden hair. "Most men take longer to stop staring." She waved away his apology, and offered him her hand. "Welcome to Sulfur Springs. I'm Melody, and I'll be your guide today." He took her hand, cool and small compared to his own, and joined in the laughter at her joke. She barely came up to his chin, but was definitely used to authority. She really did give him a guided tour, after introducing him to some of the other survivors. Martha, the older woman, tried to get the baby to come to her, but Tyler stuffed her head inside Joel's jacket and cried about 'Bad guys'. No one felt like forcing the issue. Melody waved away a crowd of kids and headed for a cluster of wooden buildings farther up the mountain. As they walked, she pointed out the fence around the valley, it would only slow a living person, but might serve to hold back the dead. They passed a team of kids carting materials down to reinforce a fence around a campground. Several of them were armed. One kid he couldn't have been much more than ten, steadied some steel poles so they wouldn't roll off a wheel barrow. He carried a tube fed .22 rifle slung over his shoulder. The girl pushing had an M-1 carbine. She looked about fourteen. A boy not much older had an M-1 Garand and bags of concrete mix on the cart he pushed. So many kids, dozens of them, but so few adults. He'd seen a couple of troops, presumably from Melody's unit, and a handful of others, but the kids outnmbered them by ten or more to one. He stopped and looked again at the group, then scanned the town again. "How did all those kids get here?" Melody nodded at the group they'd passed, "Those ones showed up here with some others, the rest we picked up over the last few days." She seemed to sense his next question. "Over three hundred of the survivors here are kids or teenagers, including four of my troops. Other than that we have twenty-two, including Mrs. Morrison. She's seventy-three..." her voice trailed off and she looked across the valley towards the setting sun. She looked like she was terrified and trying not to show it. She glanced at him and looked down, as if ashamed she had let it show. Her expression grew thoughtful as she took in his issue boots. She lifted her gaze and her eyes narrowed when she saw his belt buckle, the flat black one that went with his uniform, then her face paled and she stared. At first he thought she was staring at him, but soon realized that Tyler was the focus of her attention. Melody realized that he'd noticed and cleared her throat, "She's a beautiful little girl" He coaxed the little girl out of his coat, and introduced them. "Tyler, this is Mel, say: 'Hi, Mel'." "'i, 'el." Melody gasped. "Her name is Tyler?" She looked like she was about to cry, "Yeah, why?" he asked cautiously. She was crying. "My niece's name is Tyler, she's probably about that age. I called my sister, and told her to come up here, but I only got the machine and that was six days ago. I don't think she's going to make it." A cold sick feeling ran through him, and his hand moved involuntarily to the pocket that held the baggy. "What's your sister's name?" Tyler stared at Melody, fascinated. She reached out and pulled on Mel's, Melody's hair, tugging her closer. "Mama seep." That did it, the same eyes, the same pixie hair ... He had to tell her and now was as good a time as any. He unzipped the pocket and handed her the baggy. Melody took it in one trembling hand. "Her name's Melissa, Melissa Corbett." He closed the last of the distance between them, she looked like she might fall over. He turned the baggy over in her hand so the driver's license showed. "Is that her?" Melody slumped against him. "She's dead isn't she?" Joel used one arm to steady her. "She is, and her little boy too, but this is your niece." Tyler jabbed her fingers at the picture. "My mama. Mama seep." Melody wrapped her arms around them both and looked up, her gaze locked with Joel's. Her china blue eyes were an exact match for Tyler's. "Thank you for bringing her here." She broke down and wept, her head pixie locks pressed tight to his chest. He held them while the sun set. ------- Chapter 4 When the sun sank behind a mountain peak, her expression changed, just like she'd put on a mask. She looked hard, no longer a mischievous pixie, but a faerie queen, still beautiful, but but dangerous. She took his free arm. He didn't think it was by chance that her hand rested on the pistol on her belt. "Come on up to the CP, required medical check for everyone entering." "What?" He felt her tense up. "You need to be checked for bites, Tyler too." "Oh, so it's true about the bites, I wasn't sure. Didn't feel like letting one of them bite me to find out. Tyler doesn't have any either." She relaxed some, and patted his arm, but still didn't let go. "I'm glad, I'd hate to see that happen to you" She squeezed his arm as she said it, then pushed him ahead up the steps to the porch of a double wide trailer. "go on in then to the left, I'll have your gear brought up." She'd shoot him herself if he didn't allow himself to be inspected. He was sure of it without knowing how he knew, but she'd been careful not to even imply it. He blinked in the bright indoor light, the room was a makeshift hospital. There were half dozen cots set up around the room, and a TV played at one end. The nearest held a girl, nine or ten years old. She was strapped to the cot and he thought she was dead until he looked closer and saw her shallow breathing. She had a bite mark on her right arm and veins traces out from it in black nearly to her shoulder. "I think she'll be next." The voice came from over by the television. He was big, but not more than eighteen. He had a bandage wrapped around his chest and a shotgun in his lap. It took a moment to realize he was tied to the chair. "You a doctor?" He sounded hopeful and his face fell when Joel shook his head. Whatever else he was going to say he bit off when Melody came in. She walked over tot he boy, "Good to see you awake Chuck." He turned sulky, "Not like I could sleep when those three could change into monsters any minute." Joel got the feeling that if he wasn't wounded, she would have torn into him, but instead she just shrugged. "If I had anyone else to watch them..." She stroked Tyler's hair wistfully, then tugged on Joel's sleeve, "This way." They walked past some closed doors to a living room/kitchen area separated by a wall. The kitchen was busy with several young girls working under the direction of an old woman, while in the living room two soldiers and some older kids looked over a map table. From an adjoining office a radio broke squelch. "Seirra-Seirra-Six, Understand no pickup tonight, be advised we have only two days rations, Over." A young voice answered. "India-Charlie-Two, we're working on a plan, more details at zero-six-hundred. Give exact spelling on drugs at this time, Over." He thought the voice was a woman, but he took a step closer to see an office filled with computers and radio equipment. A teenage boy spoke into the mike. A girl of twelve or thirteen sat in the corner, a notepad and pen ready. "Roger, For the antibiotics, I spell Alpha-Mike-Papa..." The girl copied the letters as they came over the radio. There was something wrong with the picture and it took him a while to realize what it was. She had a collar around her neck and a chain attached it to an eye-bold sunk into the wall. He pointed to the girl, angry. But Melody had been ready for him. She put a finger to his lips, and whispered to him with twinkling eyes. "That's Amy, she was bitten, but she says not by one of them. Personally I believe her, but we're not taking any chances. The chain is just to be sure, the last link is only a snap-link so she can undo it if she needs to. It was either this or strap her to a cot in the infirmary." His doubts must have shown. "If you like you can ask her after she's done with that transmission, but look again, she's armed." He did, she had a small pistol in a shoulder holster, and a bite mark on her shoulder. It was scabbed over and healing. She looked happy enough and kept glancing shyly at the boy. As for him, he seemed oblivious. One of the soldiers, a Spec/4, came over. "I think we have a plan sergeant." "Brief me later, pick an assistant and check this gentleman for bites." She turned to Joel. "This is Specialist Roland, my second in command." Joel offered his hand, "Pleased to meet you specialist, Joel Hansen." Roland appraised him much as Melody had, taking in his boots and the brown t-shirt underneath his flannel one. "Glad you're with us sir."His handshake was firm and confident. "Right through there please." Joel passed Tyler to Melody and went into the back with Roland, one of the older boys followed. "Just take everything off and toss it on the bed." He held his rifle ready but not pointed at Joel and the boy stood well out of the line of fire. Well, they could do worse than modify POW procedures for this. Joel stripped down quickly and held his arms out to the sides, then turned around slowly without waiting to be prompted. Roland hesitated when he saw the dog tags. "If you could just step away from the bed a moment sir... " It was phrased as a polite request, but it was really an order. He picked up Joel's pants found the wallet and flipped it open. He snapped to attention without seeming to realize he'd done it. "Tommy," he spoke to the kid. "Go get Mel now." "Why?" Roland just looked at him, so the kid spoke again. "She'll want to know why, you know she will." "Tell her to come and that I wouldn't tell you why." The kid shrugged and left. Roland handed him back his pants. "Thank you for your cooperation sir." The sir was real this time, and not a polite fiction given to a civilian. He was lacing his boots when Melody came in, she saw his questioning look and volunteered what he wanted to know. "Tyler's in the kitchen, eating." she looked at Roland, an unspoken question in her own eyes. "He's clean Sergeant, but you need to see this." he handed her Joel's wallet, holding it open to his military I.D. She looked at Joel, relief shone clearly on her face, but there was something wistful hidden underneath. There was only a flash of it, then she was professional again. "Lieutenant Hansen, You're a little old to be a butterbar ... Mustang?" She handed the wallet back to him. "That's right, just finished OBC, I have..." He frowned, "had promotion orders to first, but I left them in my car." "Any orders from your unit?" "We have a drill next month, but I haven't heard anything else. Besides my unit is hundreds of miles away. I'm not even in the right state." "Thank God." She thought for a minute, looked at him, then over at Roland. "You're about the same size, lend the lieutenant a uniform." He hesitated, "You're sure?" She looked straight into Joel's eyes, searching for something, eventually she nodded. "Yeah," she said, "He'll do, better than we hoped for." Roland looked sidelong at Joel. "Well, we could do worse. I'll back up whatever story you come up with." He started to ask what was going on, but stopped at her upraised hand. "Sir, we need you to take command here." For a moment he was stunned into silence, Finally he managed to speak. "I don't want command here, I'm not trained for it. I'm MI, an interrogator, not infantry." She smiled."Now I am sure, because you don't want it. I know that you won't get carried away with power. We don't need someone to lead troops up a hill. We need someone who will keep everyone alive. You risked your life to save someone you didn't even know. You carried Tyler for two days, that's not something a lot of people would do." "Nobody would leave a little girl behind." Joel protested, " I was just trying to survive, trying to get back to my unit." Melody opened a dresser drawer and started digging through it. "Your unit is in another state, it's not too likely you'd make it there on your own, at least right now." "I'm not in your chain of command. Legally I don't have any standing to take command." "I don't think we have to worry about that. Just in case though, as the ranking civilian authority, as mayor of Sulfur Springs, the highest civilian authority available. I'm authorizing you temporary duty here." She pulled a box out of the drawer and dumped it on the bed, spreading the contents out. She picked up silver captain's bars and tried to give them to him." As the ranking officer in this unit a brevet promotion is legal unless countermanded by higher authority. If you'd rather command the infantry company, you can." "I don't think we're going to see higher authority for a while. Why don't you put those on yourself?" A shadow fell over her face. "I can't do it anymore, the things I've had to do haunt my dreams." She looked at him though tear filled eyes. "I've left people behind, because they were a danger to the rest. Left others out there because the risk to go get them outweighs the benefit a rescue mission offers. I can feel it getting to me, and I'm afraid I'll get everyone killed." She wiped her eyes. "Besides, everyone here knows I'm not an officer. No way I can fake it, even if I wanted to. We have radio contact with another unit, the CO is a lieutenant, but he's gonna get all his people killed. He outranks me and knows it, it's only a matter of time before he orders us to help him evacuate here. We have room to spare, but not enough supplies. That we could handle, but I can't let him take over, he'd have to go and I don't want another death on my conscience. If you take over, we won't have any problems with him." Her next words broke through the last of his resistance. "'All enemies, foreign and domestic', thats what the oath says." she pressed the twin silver bars into his hand. "You're needed here." A tingle ran up his arm as she touched his hand. The bars were old, heavy, real silver. "Your fathers?" "Grandfathers. You'll take command?' She really needed him to do this, he could almost feel the ragged edges of her soul through her china blue eyes. "I will, but under some conditions. I've never held command. To even have a chance of bringing this off, I need a Top Sergeant. You'll have to take a promotion to First Sergeant. Her face paled, but she nodded. "Agreed." "This is your place, so let's do this right, I'll need you to lease it to the army, call it a dollar a year, plus replacement of any supplies used. Money won't be worth anything, but at least you won't be out anything in the long run. That is unless this is over quicker than I think and they court martial me." He smiled at his own joke. She did too. "In the morning we'll have a change of command ceremony, all nice and official. Get some rest, you look pretty beat." She walked to the door, hesitated. "I just wish..." "What?" "I wish we weren't going to be in the same chain of command." She slipped through the door, leaving him alone. He stretched out on the bed, she was right, he was pretty beat. For the first time in a week, he was safe. He drifted off to sleep. In his dreams, he heard Tyler cry, not hurt or afraid, but unhappy. He reached out to her and she quieted as soon as she snuggled in his arms. He dreamed of her pixie hair, and haunting eyes, then of another set of china blue eyes and a warmth behind them, concealed by a mask of professional competence. When he woke, predawn light filtered through the translucent white curtains. Melody was in bed with him, legs tangled with his. Her head lay on his arm. Tyler snuggled between them, her tiny chest heaved softly with each breath. They looked so much alike. For a moment he lay there, unable to believe it was real. He could get used to waking up like this. Gently, he brushed the hair from her cheek. Sleeping like this, she looked so young. She looked almost as young as the girls helping in the kitchen last night. Like them, she needed someone to protect and care for her. To do that, he needed to get things organized. Some of the kids worked, but most of them waited for someone to take care of them. There was no way a handful of adults could take care of so many children. They had to take care of themselves. They wouldn't be able to do that unless they had something to believe in. There was only one thing he could offer them that might work. Even without knowing the details, Joel knew that most of them had lost their entire families. He had a new family to offer them, something bigger than themselves to be part of. Something rustled at the foot of the bed, he sat bolt upright. Adrenaline coursed through him as he looked for a weapon. He spotted his .45 on the bedside table and snatched it up, but nothing moved in the room. Melody stirred in her sleep, reached out and grabbed him around the waist. She pulled him towards her, she was small enough that she moved instead. She rolled onto Tyler, who woke up. Tyler fussed a bit, then she spied Joel and clung to him, arms and legs wrapped around his body. She grabbed a handful of his a week old beard and pulled it. Melody looked up at them, "Morning." Her pixie hair was in disarray. She looked up at him with eyes red rimmed from tears and stress. She was beautiful. He was lost in her eyes and for a moment he couldn't say anything. "I think we can keep everyone alive. It's going to take a lot of work and we'll have to bend a few rules. If we pull it off, all those kids will have a chance." She pointed to the floor at the foot of the bed, Five girls lay together on a quilt, sleeping. "Tell me about it, but not here." She sat up. The movement caught Tyler's attention. The toddler looked strangely at her for a moment, then smiled and said, "My mama!" ------- The End ------- Posted: 2011-04-20 Last Modified: 2011-04-27 / 10:24:10 pm ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------