Zombie Fallout 16 Read online

  I don’t know how long I stood outside that door. Was I waiting for them to finish before I killed them? One orgasmic, cataclysmic end? As decent a way to go as any, I supposed. Tommy was coming up the hallway; he dragged his sleeve across his mouth. He nodded his head to the door I was inches from.

  “Problem?” he asked softly.

  “There should be a sock on the doorknob,” I told him. He was confused for a moment before it dawned on him.

  “I’ll deal with it, you take care of the other.” He motioned to the door where a snorer was sawing away.

  My life was saved because of a momentary impulse for mercy. I had opened the door just as I looked back to Tommy to tell him, no, that we would take them prisoner. The wall behind where my head had just been suddenly had a very large hole blown into it. The snorer had been faking. No matter how vigorous your self love-making session, no way that was going to go unnoticed. I pulled back before dropping down, realizing a trailer wall would do little to stop a bullet. Three holes were punched into the wall where I had been standing. The person was good with a gun. Tommy came down next to me. Great, we were in a narrow hallway with potential shooters on either side. Tommy slammed open the lover’s door with his fist, breaking it off the bottom hinge. Two hastily made shots rang out before he opened fire.

  “Sir, you’ve been heard. More coming,” Dallas spoke into my headset.

  “Engage! Stenzel, take down the spotter!” I yelled to be heard.

  Tommy had his rifle on full auto; the room was small and there was nowhere to hide. When no more shots were returned I knew he’d done what he’d set out to do.

  “You fucks dead yet?” came from the sleeper’s room. He shot another couple through the wall; light leaked through. I wanted to take a peek, but he’d know the moment I blocked the hole with my eye.

  I tapped Tommy’s shoulder and pointed behind him. We slow-crawled it out of there. The sleeper shot every few seconds, maybe expecting an assault.

  “Spotter down. Other has hands in air, giving himself up. Orders, sir.”

  “Fuck.”

  “That an order?” Stenzel replied.

  “He moves, shoot him. Walde?”

  “Four are down. We had to move or risk being flanked. Four are headed your way. We’ll deal with the three we have. Might be a few before we can assist. Good luck, Captain.”

  “Reed, have Eastman send help now! We’re about to be pinned down. Element of surprise is long gone. Walde, see if you can circle around to that fucking bomb, keep any dipshits from poking at the buttons.”

  “Will do.” Her words were punctuated with rifle fire—couldn’t tell if it was hers or the enemy's.

  “What’s going on in there?” was yelled from outside the front door.

  “This is Cushing! Someone is in the hallway!”

  The front door slammed open. Whoever had done the kicking had not come storming in, good thing for them, too, because I had rolled over and would have stitched a nice line of bullets up their midsection. There were muffled voices in the bedroom; the sleeper must have been talking to someone through the window. It was possible he was going to head out, made sense. Then he surprised me again. What I thought was the rustling of him escaping was actually of another coming in to join the party. I’d never been to a firefight inside a tin can and I hope to never be again. The two in the bedroom went full auto on us. The camper was being sawed in half from the inside—wood, plastic, insulation, glass and all other manner of debris rained down upon us. The desire and urge to cover up was instinctual; the knowledge that once the shooting stopped a rush of soldiers through the door was inevitable kept me from doing so.

  True to time-tested if not completely reliable tactics, the shooting stopped and either a man with a death wish or the lowest on the totem pole rushed in. He saw Tommy and me a moment before he saw his maker. Realizing we were very much alive, no others came in. Heard more noise behind us, dropped half a magazine through the wall. I’m not a fan of shooting at something or someone I can’t see, but the walls were cheese-slice thin and I had a rough idea of where the window was. I heard a loud oomph as I’d hit someone either coming in or going out.

  “Torch it!” was yelled from outside. I figured this was where the grenades came into play. Chalk this up to another time I was wrong. It went from mildly warm to metal forging hot in a matter of seconds. Answering why they had a flame thrower was secondary to escaping. Tommy grabbed my shoulder as we rushed for the self-lovers bedroom. We were heading for the window when I had the unfortunate happen. I stumbled over the man’s leg, and, as I looked down to be careful with my foot placement, I saw what remained of his favorite toy. It looked like the end of a cigarette that had one of those small prank caps placed in it, or, for a better visual, a peeled banana, but in this case without the banana part. It was horrifying. All I could figure was the poor bastard had taken one straight up the exit port and it had blown right through the front. Even though he was one of the people that wanted to blow us off the face of the earth, I sincerely hoped he was dead before it had happened. Tommy and I dove through the windows. He went first, so how I managed to get caught up in the drapes and blinds is a mystery. Two men who had not yet got into position were coming around the corner. Tommy killed them instantly while I was in the midst of trying to rip the cheap plastic slats that had wrapped around my head, free.

  Thick yellow smoke poured from the trailer, the aluminum burning so hot and so fast it was glowing. For the briefest of seconds, I thought: if we'd got stuck inside, we would have been like barbecued beer can chicken. We retreated to the tree line. There were at least three more soldiers out there, but they did not show themselves. We couldn’t wait for them to appear. Either they were hightailing it away or were heading for the bomb. We couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t think they’d do an instant detonation; Deneaux wasn’t the type of leader to inspire zealots. I couldn’t imagine anyone sacrificing themselves for her perceived greater good. But if they got away and were able to contact her, yeah, really good chance she’d remote detonate the thing.

  “Clear on our side,” Walde reported in.

  “Be careful, still potentially three out here,” I told her.

  “Roger that.”

  Within five minutes we had a loose perimeter set up. Wherever Deneaux’s men had gone, it was not here.

  “Sir, I still have a man here with his hands in the air,” Stenzel said.

  I looked to Walde. “We’re good here,” she told me.

  I was fairly confident the survivors were gone, but I still made my way slowly to the forward post. Exploded by a nuclear bomb or shot by small arms fire, dead is dead.

  “Turn around,” I told the man standing there.

  “Can I put my arms down? My shoulders are killing me.”

  “Slowly, and don’t do anything more stupid than working for Deneaux. I have my rifle aimed on your midsection.”

  He did as I asked.

  “Drop the sidearm.”

  He pulled his weapon out with two fingers like it was coated in poison ivy and dropped it to the ground.

  “Prisoner secured,” I told Stenzel.

  “Eastman’s men will be there in two,” Reed reported.

  “Walde, you get that?”

  “Can already hear them coming up the road,” she said.

  “Well, Captain…Vienden.” I moved closer to see his name tag. “Want to tell me what you’re doing here?”

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “Oh, really? Now you want to talk? Is it about that crate with the nuke in it? Because that’s where I’d like to start.”

  “She has my daughter.”

  Wasn’t expecting that lead-in but I probably should have been. Deneaux always had a way of grabbing people by their short and curlies and ripping at them until she got what she wanted. If the roles were reversed, would I ever be able to justify killing hundreds of innocent people to save the life of Nicole? I didn’t even want to think about it bec
ause, in the blaze of an instant that the thought fired through my mind, I vacillated half a dozen times.

  “I know what you’re thinking…one life is not worth that much death; but she’s all I have left.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “I didn’t do it though, I couldn’t. I’ve been stalling. She wants to kill you, Captain Talbot, above all else, she wants you dead.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I saw you come ashore the other day. As soon as I had visual confirmation of your presence, I was supposed to radio in…”

  “And…?” I prompted.

  “You know the rest. Although I am convinced I would have been joining you in the afterlife.”

  “Oh, so you’re on Deneaux’s naughty list too? What did you do, crush one of her smokes by accident? Not fluff her pillow correctly? Oh wait, maybe you didn’t massage her old crusty feet enough.”

  “I questioned her authority.”

  “Whoa. And you’re still alive?”

  He shrugged. “Until my task is completed.”

  “So, this whole ‘I saved you’ thing isn’t completely altruistic.”

  “Is anything completely altruistic?” he asked me.

  Had me there. I’d often thought of that very same thing. Everything was done with an ulterior motive, whether we wanted to believe that or not, even if the motive is just our own Karma. That gift we bought our spouse out of the blue, sure it was to make him or her happy, but it was also with the hope it would lead to a little extra sump’n. That donation to the local church? Great tax write-off. Helping the old lady cross the street? Bingo. Merit badge.

  “The bomb, can she remote detonate it?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much time do we have?” I asked.

  “Did anyone get away?” he asked.

  “Fuck. Walde, are Eastman’s men here?”

  “Yes, camp is secure.”

  “Get that crate loaded up onto a truck, find me a route that gets me out of here the quickest. I’ll be right there. Let’s go,” I told Vienden. “We’re going for a ride.”

  I expected him to protest; not many willingly go for a ride with a bomb. When we walked into camp, I saw one of Eastman’s men pushing a prisoner toward a holding area.

  “Any others?” I asked. He shook his head. “Plan S for shitty it is,” I said as I walked toward my people. “I need…” I hadn’t even finished when Dallas chimed in that she would. “You don’t even know what I’m asking.”

  “Sure I do. You need a driver to get the bomb as far away as you can before it explodes.”

  “Well, shit, nailed it. Let’s go.”

  “I’m coming,” Tommy said, not leaving any room for debate as he climbed into the back.

  “What the hell.” Walde joined him.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you people! I don’t even want to be here. Let’s go.” I motioned for Vienden to get in the back. “I’m going to get in the front; I don’t want to leave Dallas without a shotgunner.”

  “You sure it has nothing to do with that cushioned seat?” Tommy asked.

  “How dare you!” I told him before going to the front of the truck.

  “Major, this is Talbot. We’ve got the package and are heading out.”

  “Captain, this is Eastman. My men informed me of the type of weapon it is. Ten miles is the minimum, twenty would be preferred. But I completely understand if you want to drop that thing off as soon as possible and turn around.”

  “We’ll get this at least twenty miles away, sir,” I told him.

  “Good luck, Captain. Let me know when you’re on the return.”

  “Will do.” I put the radio down. The tremor in my hands had returned, and I couldn’t blame them. Between the skirmish I’d just participated in and the cargo, it would have been stranger to have no reaction. I don’t think Dallas noticed as she was doing her best to get the slow behemoth moving as fast as possible.

  “Just like old times.” Dallas was smiling. “Sorry,” she said, turning my way, her teeth on full display. “I smile when I’m nervous.”

  “That’s unnerving,” I told her. “I feel like you’re getting ready to bite me.”

  She laughed. “Is your son seeing anyone?”

  It took me a moment to compartmentalize what she asked. I had to take the words and place them in a part of my brain that wasn’t dealing with supernovas and into ones that were dealing with normality.

  “Justin,” she clarified.

  “Right now?”

  “Want to talk about what happens at ground zero, instead?” She was still smiling that unnerving toothy grin, her lips seemingly stuck in place like she was in a dentist chair and they had that lip retractor torture device in place.

  “You come up on him like that and he’s going to turn and run.”

  “It’s not nice to make fun of someone’s issues. I know what this looks like.”

  “Must have had some difficult job interviews.”

  “You have no idea.” She began to laugh. With tension eased, her face relaxed.

  “Justin hasn’t been serious with anyone since before this started. There was one girl, but it ended…poorly.” I couldn’t think of a better way to say it; Jess had made it halfway across the country only to die in Ron’s house days before Justin came back. It had been difficult for us all. Justin did and still does carry a significant amount of guilt around for it, though it was completely out of his control. The tone of my words was enough for Dallas to not ask how it had happened. After all, not much ended well these days.

  “I like him.”

  “I gathered that,” I told her. She kept looking at me. “You have my blessing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “It’s not that. I get nervous…”

  “Oh shit, you want me to tell him! You figure if you go asking him with that freakish Cheshire cat grin, he’s going to tell you he’s into minotaurs or something.”

  “Minotaurs?”

  “All I could come up with in short notice. I’ll do that for you,” I told her.

  She sighed in relief.

  “He’d be a dummy if he didn’t say yes.”

  Dallas blushed. “Thank you, sir.”

  21

  Canter

  “What the fuck just happened?” Corporal Cushing asked. The trio of men had run for close to a mile when they heard the reinforcements coming. They were now in a small clearing, catching their breath.

  “They found us somehow.” Sergeant Canter leaned against a tree, looking back the way they had come, making sure that they weren’t being followed. “I bet it was that pin dick Vienden. I saw him at the observation post with his hands in the air.”

  “What do we do now?” Corporal Gordon asked. He was wheezing and had taken a seat. Panic began to flare as he realized he’d left his inhaler on the picnic table once the shooting had begun.

  “We’ve got to get to a radio, let Deneaux know so she can blow all those idiots up. Come on, we gotta move,” Canter said.

  “I need more time.” Gordon was close to hyperventilating.

  “Get up now or wait for the explosion. Your choice.” Canter pushed off from the tree and was already jogging. Cushing was close behind, and Gordon was losing ground with every step they took.

  After twenty minutes, Canter and Cushing plodded into a small town, Gordon no longer in sight and hadn’t been for a good long while.

  “Should we go back and find him?” Cushing was looking back.

  “No time. It's just you and me. We need to find an electronics store or a large antenna…maybe somebody with a ham radio.”

  “A what?”

  They walked down the main avenue for a few minutes. “The gods are shining down on us today!” Canter said as he smacked Cushing in the chest. The other man wasn’t quite so convinced, considering they’d lost most of their squad and had barely escaped themselves. Canter crossed the street, entered a small strip mall parking lot, then kicked throug
h the entrance to a Radio Shack. Cushing stood outside standing guard while Canter rummaged around inside. He emerged victorious a few minutes later with small radio. “Hurry up. Help me set up this antenna.” He whistled while they worked.

  “Somebody better be listening in on the emergency band.” Once he dialed in the frequency, he began to speak. “Etna, this is Canter, over.” He repeated the sentence half a dozen times. “I bet it’s Amells watching the radio.” He spit on the ground. “Stupid fuck is probably off taking a shit and left them unmanned. Pick up, Amells, or I’m going to let everyone know how many sex toys you have.”

  “Really?” Cushing asked.

  “He’s got ‘em all decorated up, small doll outfits, nurses, teachers, cheerleaders…weirdest shit I’ve ever seen. I still cranked one out but it wasn’t easy.”

  “You realize you just told anyone listening what you threatened him with.”

  “Who gives a fuck? Sick bastard. Amells, pick up the goddamned mic!”

  “Sorry, sorry I was crapping,” Amells answered, out of breath.

  “Told you,” Canter said to Cushing. “He’s always on the shitter. Amells, I need the boss on the horn, pronto.”

  “Seriously? She scares me.”

  “Now, Amells.”

  A couple of minutes later, Deneaux was on the line. “This better be good, Captain Vienden.”

  Canter swore he could see smoke coming through speaker.