Thorton picked up the receiver. “Go ahead.”
“I just checked the map and if we stay on 50 we’ll be able to take it all the way across country and avoid most cities. There’s a bunch of towns, though.” Tamikara’s voice came through loud and clear.
“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about supplies then, will we? Thorton out.” Ken put the radio down and looked over at his driver. “Very well done,” he said. “Congratulations, you’re a corporal now.”
Ken’s driver preened at the praise and promotion. He was already thinking about what he was going to do with his extra share of spoils, should they come across any. That was the way it worked in Major Thorton’s army. The higher the rank, the higher the percentage of loot and the sooner they got to the women. The rank and file privates had a long wait for their turn.
Route 50 was fairly deserted, despite being a well-maintained road. They passed several cars, but they were empty and had nothing of value or interest. One had a zombie teenage girl tied up in the back seat, duct tape across its mouth, an indication that a family just couldn’t let go of their loved one, even though they knew how deadly it was. The zombie just eyed the trucks as they rolled past, impotent in its bonds.
The first town they approached of any size was Gunnison, but as they rolled through, it was clear the town had been abandoned. No attempt had been made for defense and the stores had been looted. They stopped briefly at the gas station and were rewarded with several gallons of gas from the underground tanks. A summative scouting of the town revealed nothing of value and Thorton did not want to spend the night in a defenseless place. There were no suitable buildings for keeping the zombies out and ammo was to be used for emergencies, not just popping the odd undead.
After Gunnison, the convoy reached Solida, which needed to be skirted. The town was ringed with a tall chain-link fence, but there were hundreds of zombies roaming the streets. Thorton guessed that they managed to keep the infection out, but didn’t know they had it within until it was too late.
Lincoln Park, Pueblo and La Junta were pretty much the same story and the men of the convoy began to wonder if there was any area of the country which had successfully resisted the zombie hordes.
As the sun began to dip lower, the convoy approached a town with the name of Lomar. The population sign said there were supposed to be eight thousand people living in the town, but given the level of activity that could be seen, there were far fewer. But it was a live town, which made it very special in this part of the country.
Thorton grabbed the radio. “We need to be straight military. Pass the word.” He then opened the back window which gave him access to the back of the truck. “We’re approaching a live town. Act like real military and this will be easy.”
Ken adjusted his belt and holster and made sure his uniform was in place. He brushed off his medal bars and checked his look in the visor mirror. Should be good enough to get in, at least. he thought. After that it was all up to the town.
The town was a sprawling affair and as they moved in, they could see that the area had been hit. Dozens of small homes had been destroyed and every one of them had a dirty white flag hanging limply from the mailbox. The center road was fairly open and the trucks only had to go around a few vehicles. There were zombies in the homes, but since they seemed to be contained, there was little danger.
Things got interesting as they approached the northern end of the town. A barrier, which from a distance Thorton thought was brush, turned out to be piles and piles and piles of furniture. Every house that could have been looted of its furniture seemed to have summarily done so and it had been unceremoniously dumped to build this barrier. Chairs, tables, dressers, china hutches, entertainment consoles, everything that could be used was. The convoy drove along this interesting obstacle and the Major had to smile at the ingenuity of the people. Use what you have until you don’t have it anymore. People in Western states were like that. They were practical to a fault.
Following the pile of stuff, the convoy turned in to another area and moved along the road at a quicker pace. This area had been cleared out and several of the homes had gardens planted in what used to be their front lawns. The obvious signs of life encouraged the men in the trucks.
The trucks moved along the road and stopped at an earthen barrier which encircled this part of the town. An old box truck served as a gate and two semi truck trailers were upended to make guard towers. As the convoy approached, Thorton saw increased activity as the town became aware of the trucks. He was acutely aware of the men in the towers who held high-powered scoped rifles at the ready. If trouble came, they would have to be first.
Major Thorton motioned his driver to stop and he got out of the truck. He signaled for Tamikara to join him and the little Captain hopped out of the second truck. He waited for Tamikara to catch up and together they walked up to the barricade. At twenty feet from the gate, they stopped and hailed the men in the towers. Thorton kept his hands behind him, somewhere he had heard military men do that sort of thing. It had the effect of accenting his shoulders and neck, making him look even more imposing than he already was.
In a matter of minutes, the box truck rolled aside and a group of four men walked out to meet the visitors. They were stereotypical western men: thin, sharp-eyed and rough. These were men who had seen bad winters and cruel summers. They were used to accepting what life had to throw at them and rolled with the punches.
“Afternoon. My name’s Brent Rowdan. Who might you be?” Brent’s eyes roamed over Thorton’s uniform, halting briefly on the medals and the sidearm.
Thorton was aware of the scrutiny. He shifted and placed his hands near his sides. “Major Ken Thorton, United States Army, at your service. We’re glad to see you folks alive after the mess.”
Brent shrugged. “Given the choices, wasn’t much we could do. We lost a good portion of the town, though.” He pointed to a large pit off in the distance.
“How many of you are left?” Thorton asked, looking over the onlookers.
“’Bout a hundred, give or take. I ain’t counted recently, you understand.” Brent said.
“I’ll get to the point. We’re on a reconnaissance mission to determine whether or not there are usable assets in a given area, specifically any military personnel who may have left post or are defending an area. Tamikara remained silent next to him.
“We would like to spend the night here, if we may, then push on in the morning,” Ken continued.
Brent cocked his head. “Not meanin’ no offense, but how many men are we talkin’ about?”
“Is there a problem?” Thorton asked, his suspicious nature rising quickly.
“Not at all major,” said Rowdan. “Just thinking about supplies and trying to feed all of you.”
Major Thorton smiled and used his winningest smile. “Don’t worry yourself. We will have everything we need.” The look in Thorton’s eyes would have any sane man reaching for a gun.
But Brent just shrugged and signaled for the truck to be moved back and the three military trucks rumbled through the entrance.
Brent’s eyed drifted back to his assembled men and one of them, an older gent, just shook his head. Brent wandered over to the old man and after several heated moments of furious discussion, Brent’s shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. He had just let a viper in his home, now he had to get rid of it.
Inside the perimeter, the trucks moved to the center of the town, where a neat square could be found. The trucks stopped outside the town hall and the men spilled out of the trucks. They stood in squads and their NCO’s issued quiet orders. Safeties were quietly clicked off and magazines covertly checked. Major Thorton and Captain Tamikara huddled together for an instant, then broke apart as Brent Rowdan and about twenty armed men approached the convoy. The men on both sides eyed each other warily as their leaders met again.
Brent was brief. “You all can camp here, there’s still water in the wells for whatever you need. When will you be moving on?”
Thorton looked at Brent a full minute before replying. “All things considered, Mr. Rowdan, I am probably the last ranking officer in the military, which gives me the authority of the United States Government. Technically, this town falls under my authority.”
Brent didn’t look convinced. “Ordinarily, you’d be right. But since your authority comes from the U.S. Government, which don’t rightly exist anymore, leastaways not that we’ve heard of lately, your authority applies just to military personnel.
“We got nothing against you men, long as you’re peaceful, but if you’re otherwise, I’d say you need to move on.”
Thorton looked at Tamikara, who looked at his men. “I understand your concerns, Mr. Rowdan. I really do. But you wouldn’t turn out a group of men who just need a place to sleep for the night, would you?”
