“Then, Becky over in post five started shooting. Before I knew it, we were being swarmed,” Slim said. “Now here’s where things became weird, Zach. First, the alarm never went off. I hit the big red button, but it was deader than Grandpa’s silver hammer.”
“When was the last time it was tested?” Zach asked.
“Yesterday,” Priss said. “I watched the First Sergeant and Joker check them. No problems.”
“Okay, what else?” Zach asked.
“The spare ammo,” Slim said. “I personally went to each guard post and did a spot inventory of all the ammo cans two days ago. All of them were good-to-go. So, when the zeds attacked and we’d burned through a couple of magazines, I opened the ammo cans to get more and they were empty. So, we’ve been dead in the water here. The guard posts are the same.”
“Who are in the other guard posts?” Zach asked.
“Well, like I said, Becky is in post five, Flash is in post two. Charlie Mac is post three, and Kate is post four. Post six was empty. It was supposed to be D-Day, but he never showed up.”
“Alright, I have some suggestions, but I need you two on my side if we’re going to do this,” Zach said.
“Fire away, Zach,” Slim said.
“Alright, I want you to load up with Radar and take him to Fred and Rachel’s place. Make sure they’re okay. And make sure he sees you. He’ll recognize you and won’t start shooting.”
“Roger that,” Slim said and trotted over to the armored vehicle. Zach focused on Priss.
“You and I need to head to the TOC.”
The doors were secured and Priss’ security card would not work. She cursed in frustration and pointed. “Alright, there’s the security card lock, and there’s a key lock below it. Where are the master keys at, Zach?”
“Two people have a master key. The president, the officer in charge of the TOC, and, well, the rest are here and there.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked.
“I’ll show you.”
Although it was dark and Priss had a scarf wrapped around her, Zach could see her frowning. A dead zed was lying on the spot of ground he needed to get to. He dragged it to the side before pulling out his pocket knife and squatted.
“A few years ago, Parvis and I rigged up some small containers out of PVC and buried keys and stuff around the compound. Grace and Garret know about them. Stark knew about them, although he probably doesn’t remember now, and me of course. Now, I believe it’s time for somebody else to know about them.”
Zach began digging at the frozen ground with his knife. It wasn’t easy, but after a few minutes he dug up a six-inch-long piece of PVC pipe that had a threaded cap on one end. Standing, he wrenched the cap off. A couple of brass keys dropped into Zach’s outstretched hand.
“On the left side of each main entry door you will find one of these buried in the dirt. The main gate has a bigger pipe with some other stuff in it.” Zach faced her. “You and I got off to a bad start back when we first met, but over the years I’ve grown to both respect and trust you.”
Priss stared solemnly. “Thank you, Zach.”
Zach stared a moment and a small smirk crept over his face. “So, it’s time you learn about things like this. It goes without saying if you betray that trust I’m going to have to spank that ass again.”
Priss huffed and gave Zach a punch in the chest but could not hold back a giggle.
The lock was cold and stiff, but Zach worked the key and finally the tumblers broke free and the lock opened. They opened the door and entered with handguns drawn. Trucker Troy was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Surprisingly, he was still breathing, although it sounded raspy and haggard. Priss squatted down by him and assessed his injury while Zach checked for any possible threat behind the desk and inside the room’s single closet. Finishing, he walked over and squatted beside Priss.
“It looks like two gunshot wounds to the chest. I can’t believe he’s still alive,” she said.
When she spoke, Troy reached out and weakly grabbed her arm. His skin was clammy. “The sonofabitch shot me,” he said.
“Who?” Priss asked.
Troy coughed, emitting a frothy spray of blood. Zach knew from experience one of those bullets had penetrated a lung.
“The President,” he croaked out and managed to point toward the rear of the TOC. “We were talking and all of a sudden he pulled out his gun and shot me. Last time I saw him, he’d walked in there and shut the door.”
The armory was in the back, secured by a heavy steel door. Zach walked to it and gently tried the doorknob. It was locked. He walked back to Priss and Troy. Troy appeared to have lost consciousness. Priss had been in the process of wrapping a compression bandage around his chest but had stopped. She looked up and slowly shook her head.
Zach frowned. Sudden movement at the outer door caused him to turn and aim his handgun. Flash raised his hands quickly.
“It’s just me,” he exclaimed.
Zach lowered his weapon and motioned for him to come in.
“Good to see you’re alive.”
“Thanks man, you too,” Flash said. He glanced down at Troy. “Is he dead?”
Priss nodded. “The president shot him.”
“Really? Holy shit, the man has gone plumb crazy,” he said.
“We’re going in after him,” Zach said. “More specifically, I need you two to go in after him.” He saw the puzzled expressions and explained. “There are still people who think I killed Rochelle. If I go in and it gets ugly and I kill him, well, imagine what people would think then.”
“Not a problem,” Priss said and checked her handgun before holding her hand out for the master key.
Zach had faith in their abilities. He also felt the best thing
