“Really?” Captain Tamikara’s voice softened and the private winced visibly, expecting a fatal bullet. Tamikara continued. “Well, I guess he was trouble. You’d better go get him before more of these fools think it is okay to hit their guards with rocks and leave.”
“Now?” the man squeaked, looking at the new blanket of snow that was falling from deep grey skies.
“Right now.” Tamikara dropped a hand to his sidearm, a nickel-plated Browning Hi-Power, his one vanity.
The man shouldered his rifle and headed out into the gloom, pursuing prey that would not want to be caught and would fight if cornered.
Captain Tamikara watched the man leave, then shook his head. First this lunatic wild goose chase and now someone escapes, he thought to himself. If I believed in omens, I would say we just got handed a big one.
After three days, neither the escapee or the soldier chasing him had shown up and Captain Tamikara had new things to worry about. A truckload of prisoners had been brought in and after the separation of families and couples, there were the requisite beatings and rapes and children crying for their mothers. It kept the men busy and the Major was pleased with three new additions to his little harem.
But the additions also stirred up the pot again about rights being violated and the Major was determined more than ever to get rid of that which vexed him.
5
Winter was brutal, with long periods of time when no one could go outside for there was too much snow and it was too cold. Three infants died in the camp, adding to the resentment the people felt towards their captors. A work party tried to overpower their guards and Major Thorton chose to hang them all in the center of the town as a lesson to the rest. As the bodies swung in the wind, the looks around the assembled populace were not defeated, but stoic in their resolution. Thorton was unaware of the animosity, but Tamikara and the rest of the men were all too aware. They gripped their weapons nervously and huddled close together, not wanting to be alone near any of the people.
Winter passed slowly, but eventually came the first signs of spring. Warm air blew over the hills and people emerged from their homes, turning their faces to the brighter sun. The thawing snow reawakened the dormant feelings of rebellion and Caption Tamikara was all too eager to get moving on. He pushed the men with intensity, but urged them not to reveal what was happening. He did not want on uprising on his watch. If the people revolted after he and the others left, what did he care?
The trucks were loaded in the beginning of March and by the start of Spring in earnest, the convoy was ready to go. Ken Thorton inspected the vehicles and spoke with his captain and lieutenant.
“Do we have everything we need?” he asked, looking back over the trucks.
“Yes, we’ve been over everything twice, Major. We have planned for everything we could think of.” Tamikara was barely concealing his contempt these days.
“What about the men staying back, who will it be?” Thorton pressed, looking for weakness.
“Lt. Hansen will be staying behind, as well as Sgt. Nick Harris. They have chosen the men to stay behind as well.”
“Excellent. We will be leaving thirty-five men. Will that be enough to keep this place until we return?” Thorton asked.
It had better be, thought Tamikara. “We figure they should be sufficient. We chose the men who would be more brutal than the others, keeping the rest in line until we get back with more numbers,” he said.
“Good, good.” Ken looked at his fortress and turned back to his Captain. “What about my toys, what were we going to do with them?” Ken was concerned. Not for the well being of his victims, but for his own pleasure when he returned.
Tamikara sighed. “We are sending them back to their families to work. We figured they would be better used as incentives to not fight than as a reason to inspire further hatred.” Tamikara was deliberately trying to bait Thorton.
Thorton was oblivious. “Pity, it would have been nice to bring one along.”
Tamikara shrugged. “A useless mouth to feed.”
Major Thorton glanced sideways at his captain. A suspicion formed in his mind, but he realized the futility of pursuing it at the moment. He changed the subject instead.
“Raid should be coming back tonight from over the mountain. We’ll leave as soon as they return,” he said.
“At night?” Tamikara seemed surprised. Everyone who survived the Upheaval knew not to move about at night.
Ken shook his head. “I figure them back by this evening. We’ll get a good start out and rest over at Maudy’s. After that, we’re on our own.”
Ted nodded once and then turned to Lt. Lon. “Let the rest know and we need to make sure it is quiet.”
Lt. Lon saluted, then walked off towards his men. Major Thorton watched him leave, then turned to Tamikara.
“Listen carefully.” Ken spoke softly. “If you ever speak like that to me again, I will take your pretty pistol and shove it up your ass before I pull the fucking trigger.” He stuck his large face into Tamikara’s. “Clear?”
Tamikara stared back a full minute before answering. “Crystal. Is that all, sir?”
“That’s enough. Go find a weakling to intimidate, Captain.”
Tamikara spun on his heel, seething with impotent fury. He knew he couldn’t take Thorton in a fight, and if he had tried to pull his weapon, Ken would have easily killed him. This insult was going to be answered, but it would be on Tamikara’s terms, not Thorton’s.
Later that evening, the raiders returned. They had various foodstuffs and supplies, but picking were getting slimmer and slimmer. It was noticeable that three men who had gone out had not come back. After the supplies had been stored, the big event was the departure of Ken Thorton and his band of renegades. The people watched from their homes, hopeful their ordeal might be coming to an end after all.
In the middle of the night, Private Levi Denton, a nineteen year old from Vegas died in his sleep. He had been feeling a little ill since he had gotten back from the raid, but he had dismissed it as just a case of indigestion. The truth was he had managed to get infected. The raiders had been surprised by a number of zombies in the store they were looting. The fight had been vicious, short, and in close quarters. Zombie fluids had flown nearly everywhere.
Private Denton had been hit with some zombie gunk on his gloves, but he hadn’t known it at the time. A chronic nail biter, his fingertips were usually raw from being worked all the time by gnawing teeth. When he took his gloves off, some of the zombie fluid had gotten on his fingers and worked into the raw sores around his nub-like nails.
The virus had taken a while to reach the vital areas and it was well past midnight when Private Zombie, formally Denton, opened his eyes to his new world. It was dark, but that was unimportant. There were sounds from all directions, causing a brief moment of confusion. Private Zombie jerked his head in the direction of a loud snore which suddenly erupted from the right side of the room. Private Zombie was aware of a hunger in his gut and in his mind. Feed. Eat. Now, now now! It was a call that would not, could not be denied. Wonderful smells of food permeated the air and the strength of the smells told him that prey was tantalizingly close. Private Zombie pushed himself erect, only to smack his head on the underside of the bunk above him. He fell back and tumbled out of the bed, causing a few of the lighter sleepers to mutter.
Private Zombie pushed to his feet, the motions familiar but only vaguely, like a memory that stayed just out of reach. He turned his head slowly, locating a source of smell and sound. His eyes fell on his neighbor, Private Samwell.
Private Samwell was snoring softly. He had no idea anything was amiss until he felt teeth ripping through his larynx. Arterial blood sprayed the ceiling, and Private Samwell struggled briefly, but rapidly weakened due to blood loss and was unable to push his attacker off. Private Zombie tore great chunks of flesh out of Samwell’s throat, then started tearing at the sweet meat around the chest and shoulders, working to get through the clothing to the
