Zombie Rules (Book 7): The Fifteens Read online

  When my briefing ended, the president walked to the podium and led us in prayer before ending the meeting. Everyone began talking. People were excited about the missions and what they could do for us. I chatted with a few people and listened in on a couple of conversations.

  Kelly rounded up the kids, and said she would see me back at our suite. It took me an hour before I could get away. Kelly had the kids down and was reading them a bedtime story. Hardy was already fast asleep, and Macie was yawning and rubbing his eyes. Only Fredrick was still wide awake. It took almost an hour before she finally closed her eyes and drifted off into peaceful slumber.

  Kelly and I did the same a few minutes later. I would have liked to have done other things before going to sleep, but we’d both had a long hard day. I don’t know which one of us fell asleep first.

  Chapter 2 – Oscar Mike

  “I can’t say I’m looking forward to this,” I grumbled when I sat down.

  “Yep,” Fred replied.

  He was sitting in his usual spot, even though he no longer lived at Mount Weather. The mission teams were filtering in. Some looked hungover, some seemed eager to begin the day. Fred slid over a large Yeti mug, like the one he was drinking out of.

  “Hot tea,” he said.

  I nodded and took a sip. We didn’t have coffee anymore, but we had plenty of tea. Multiple varieties. This morning, it was a strong blend with a hint of a pleasant spice I could not readily identify. I nodded appreciatively, inhaled the pleasant breakfast aromas, and glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “Breakfast will be ready soon,” I mentioned.

  “Yep.”

  He wasn’t in a talkative mood this morning, no surprise. So, we sat in silence, sipping our tea, and greeted the other team members as they walked in the cafeteria. Our resident wild man, Melvin Clark, was the first to join us. Outwardly, except for a crazy gleam in his eye, he looked like your average Joe. I happened to know he was tough as nails and a hardened combat veteran. I suppose the only outward indicator was his lean, weathered face and the way he moved—like a tiger walking through the jungle. He filled his cup from the urn before joining us.

  “Good morning, men,” he greeted as he sat. “It’s going to be a hot one today.”

  “Yep,” I replied. Fred gave a small nod of agreement.

  I had to smile. Fred originally did not like Melvin, but once he’d gotten rid of his zombie wife, Fred warmed up to him. Melvin noticed and smiled as well. He gave a wave as True walked in, followed by Liam and Logan.

  True looked the same as always, lean and perpetually lost in deep thought, like he had the burden of the world on his shoulders. His normally tawny skin tone was currently a deep brown due to long hours in the sun.

  If anyone did not readily recognize the two O’Malley men as brothers, they had to be blind or brain damaged. Both were six feet tall and muscular. They walked with the same gait, had full beards, and kept their long dark hair pulled back in ponytails.

  “Good, you boys didn’t oversleep,” Melvin remarked. The men exchanged one or two smartassed retorts.

  Liam sat and stared pointedly at Fred and me. “So, you two got the job of bringing Clay Fleming here to stand trial.”

  “That’s the plan,” I said.

  “Well, I’m confused. In case the leadership of Mount Weather has forgotten, my brother and I were cops back in Pittsburgh. Why weren’t we assigned the job? I mean, that’s our bailiwick.”

  “I agree, and that would’ve happened, but the missions were already drawn up before the murder happened,” I said.

  A couple of days ago, a man by the name of Clay Fleming stabbed another man to death at the Marcus Hook community. He claimed self-defense, but it was decided the accused was going to be transported back to Mount Weather, whereupon he would stand trial for murder. Fred and I were tasked with going to get him and bring him safely back to Mount Weather.

  “What are you saying, you don’t like me and True anymore?” Melvin asked.

  “Oh, no, Sarge. That’s not it. We’d follow you through the gates of hell itself, even if you do have a smelly ass, but,” he gestured with a finger back and forth between his brother and himself, “we’ve been talking. It’s time the Mount Weather community has a police force, and we’re volunteering.”

  “Duly noted,” I said. “And you are correct. At some point, we will need to create a police force. After the missions are completed, I’ll schedule a meeting. It’ll be a formality—you know how the politicians are, they feel like they need to have a say in everything—but they’ll agree and we’ll make it happen.”

  “That means, until then I’m still stuck with you two Yinzers,” True grumbled. Melvin emitted a belly laugh.

  A casual observer who overheard their frequent barbs might have thought the four men hated each other, but in fact, they had developed a band of brotherhood type of friendship. Team Mad Dog was the go-to team for the tougher missions and they always exceeded expectations.

  Soon, the cafeteria was moderately full. In addition to the various personnel who were getting an early start to the day, I counted all the other team members present. I watched them congregate, and everyone seemed in an upbeat mood. It was a positive sign. Sometimes people did not come back from these missions, but they were still a necessity. It was the best way to find and contact other survivors, not to mention the endless need for resources. When the breakfast crew began wheeling in the food trays from the kitchen, everyone scrambled out of their chairs and a line formed.

  This morning’s breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, bacon, baked apples, and lard biscuits. The beverage options were water, tea, and milk. Milk was only served during breakfast simply because our dairy production crew could not accommodate enough for every meal. We also normally had orange juice as an option, but our harvest of oranges was down this year. Liam stabbed at his eggs.

  “One day, I’m going to order poached eggs,” he grumbled. “And I better get ‘em.”

  I laughed along with the others. Liam always complained about not getting poached eggs. One day, the kitchen crew invited him to join them and poach eggs for everyone. That shut him up, but only for a day or two. He washed down a mouthful with milk before speaking again.

  “By the way, you two be careful when transporting that guy. Search him thoroughly, and that includes strip-searching him. Also, be mindful that he may have friends who may get a hare-brained idea of trying to rescue him,” he warned.

  “Yep,” his brother added. “We had that happen back in Pittsburgh one day. A punk gang-banger was being transported to a doctor’s appointment and his buddies jumped the two deputies at the doctor’s office.”

  “What happened?” Melvin asked.

  “Both deputies were shot, but they were able to return fire and killed two of the gang-bangers. It was a mess. So, even though my big brother is rather slow-witted, he’s right. Watch yourselves and search that prisoner thoroughly. Check his clothes, his shoes, mouth, his butt-crack, everything.”

  I nodded in agreement. In fact, Fred and I had already talked about it and decided the best way to avoid a possible ambush was to take one of our precious Strykers. The vehicles were heavily armored and, when fully equipped, could put out an enormous amount of lethal firepower. I would’ve loved for us to have a fleet of them.

  “Appreciate the advice.” I changed the subject. “Are you guys ready for your mission?”

  “Damn right,” Logan said and then grinned at me. “Admit it, you’d love to go along, wouldn’t you?”

  I tried not to smile, but it was true. My job these days was to help run the post-apocalyptic American government. In addition to Mount Weather and the surrounding communities, we had to maintain positive relations with the other outlying communities. That meant I rarely went on missions anymore. I never said it to anyone, but there were moments when I longed for the time when I had no responsibilities, no wife, no kids, and I could go out into the wilderness for as long as I wanted.


  I pushed those thoughts down and gave Fred a small nod. We stood together.

  “Alright, we’ll see all of you at the motor pool in thirty minutes.”

  Jorge and Josue were at the motor pool waiting for everyone. They had the vehicles for each team prepped and ready to go. I walked over and checked out the Stryker. Over the years, some of the high-tech gizmos had broken. Without replacement parts available, Jorge and Josue had either jury-rigged them or taken them off the vehicle. Everyone had loaded up their personal equipment the night before. The only thing left to do was complete a final check and get on the road.

  I started up the Stryker and let it idle, as did the rest of the team leaders. Once everyone seemed to be satisfied everything was as it should be, we loaded up and headed toward the main entrance as a group. Upon reaching the gate, I pulled off to the side and stopped. The other vehicles followed suit.

  Exiting, I walked over to the guard post. Slim and Priss were on duty and met us outside.

  “Today’s the big day, huh?” Slim declared.

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “Is all the info posted?”

  “Roger that,” Slim replied. “Priss has better handwriting than me, so she wrote it all out on the dry erase boards. So, you two are going to get Clay?”

  “Yes. We should be back no later than 2200 hours tonight.”

  Slim nodded thoughtfully. It seemed like he had some things to say on the matter, but he kept them to himself.

  “Alright, I’ll make a notation for the next shift.”

  I nodded in agreement. The SOP was for hourly radio checks. If they did not hear from us and we were overdue, they’d send out a search and rescue team. With nothing else to say, we watched as each team departed and radioed in that they were officially Oscar Mike - On the Move.

  Chapter 3 – Team Mad Dog

  It was not necessary for them to stop at the main gate, as they already had the mission information, but Priss was on guard duty and Liam wanted to have one last goodbye. Stopping, he set the brake and jumped out while the other three men sat in the truck and waited. The two of them embraced, whispered some things to each other that nobody else could hear, and then Liam got back in the truck.

  “We good to go?” Melvin asked.

  “Yep,” Liam answered. He settled in the seat, checked the gauges, and disengaged the brake. “She said she was only going to sleep with five men and eight women while I’m gone. I guess that’s reasonable.”

  “Yeah, but what is she going to do tomorrow night?” Melvin asked.

  Logan roared in laughter. “Good one, Sarge.”

  “Yeah, good one,” Liam muttered with a scowl. When Melvin stopped chuckling, he reached for the radio’s microphone.

  “TOC, this is Team Mad Dog. Radio check, over.”

  “Reading you five-by-five, over.”

  “Roger. Team Mad Dog is Oscar Mike,” Melvin said.

  “Roger that. Team Mad Dog is Oscar Mike. Zulu ten hundred hours. Good luck and Godspeed. TOC out.”

  They made it only a few miles down Harry Byrd Highway before they encountered their first obstacle, a utility pole that had fallen across the road.

  “Ain’t this a bitch,” Liam muttered.

  Melvin looked around and pointed. “There’s a family living down that road. It used to be a fruit farm. They’re the ones who are responsible for this part of the road.”

  “Well, they must be busy bobbing for apples,” Logan remarked.

  “Or a banana-eating contest,” Liam added.

  Melvin glanced over at True, who was shaking his head at the brothers’ quips. Liam drove through the grass median and around some derelict vehicles before getting back on the road.

  “I have a feeling we’re going to encounter all kinds of obstacles and such along the way,” Melvin muttered.

  “Murphy’s law,” True quipped. Melvin nodded in agreement.

  The miles went by. There were occasional obstructions such as tree limbs or other debris in the roadway, but they encountered only small groups of zeds here and there. The men conserved their ammunition and ignored them. Well, except for a couple of them that tried to charge the truck. Liam simply ran over them. The other three men did not even bother with any commentary.

  Chapter 4 – Team Flash

  Flash squared his shoulders and tried for a professional demeanor as they exited the main gate, but when Slim gave an exaggerated salute as they drove past, he could not help but grin at his friend and salute back. His two teammates laughed along with him.

  “He’s not too bright, but you can’t help but like him,” Erin said.

  “He’s smarter than you might think,” Flash replied.

  “Are you sure?” Sully asked.

  “Oh yeah. He doesn’t have a fancy college education, but he’s got a load of common sense, and he’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.”

  Sully thought for a moment. “Well, I agree he’s a good guy.”

  Flash did not respond. Sully was a decent enough person. He was part of their group back in Virginia Beach, back when it all went bad. His girlfriend, Brie was her name, was Erin’s best friend. She and Sully had gone out scavenging one day and got attacked. Sully made it, Brie didn’t. It changed his personality from a positive person to one who was often sullen and morose. Since arriving at Mount Weather, he spent most of his off-duty time drinking and getting high.

  He did not endear himself to many people, but he never shirked a work detail and kept mostly to himself, so he was tolerated. When Flash told him of the upcoming mission, he immediately volunteered. He didn’t even balk when he learned Flash was the team leader, even though he was a few years older.

  Flash glanced over at him before concentrating on the road. He was dressed casually, jeans and a faded T-shirt, which was an extension of his current demeanor. He was scanning for zeds and any other threats, which was the responsibility of the person in the passenger seat, but he seemed almost disinterested.

  Flash increased speed after leaving the main gate. Blue Mountain Road was in good shape, thanks to the road crew, but after about twenty miles, the got increasingly worse, and it was roughly two hundred-thirty miles to Virginia Beach.

  “You know, I’m looking forward to going back home,” Erin said. Flash glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

  “I don’t know. We may be in for a big disappointment. Things weren’t so good back when we left,” he said.

  “Home is where the heart is,” Sully said and pulled a pipe out of his pocket.

  Flash watched in consternation as Sully packed the small bowl and lit up. Soon, the interior was filled with the acrid odor of marijuana. Flash wanted to admonish him. It was a tacit agreement that teams stayed straight when on mission. He looked over at Sully, who stared out of the passenger window. When he looked at his rearview mirror again, Erin gave him an apathetical shrug. Flash opted not to say anything and kept driving.

  After an hour, Flash swapped places with Erin and sat in the backseat. Pulling out his pad, he began going over his notes again. Erin glanced back.

  “Haven’t you read those enough?” she asked.

  “Just want to make sure I’m not forgetting anything,” Flash replied and gave her a wink. She in turn made a goofy face.

  The truth of it was, he was scared to death he’d forget something or screw up somehow and get somebody killed. This was his first leadership position since he’d come to Mount Weather and there were a few people who did not think a young black man such as himself was capable. Even a zombie plague was incapable of erasing racism in some people. If it were not for Zach and Joker vouching for him, he sincerely doubted he would have been chosen to lead this mission. One thing was certain in Flash’s mind—he was going to prove to them all he had the right stuff.

  He glanced again at Erin, who was now staring out of the front window. He thought back to when the two of them first met. He was fourteen and working for a lawn care company that had a contract with several of the ho
tels on Virginia Beach. Erin was two years older, and in fact was the person who had gotten him the job. They’d never had sex, but she and her boyfriend were the first persons, older teens, to befriend him.

  One chilly November night, there was a group of them sitting around a bonfire at First Landing State Park. It was the usual teenage get together. No hard drugs were ever allowed, but alcohol and marijuana were common.

  Flash remembered that night vividly. There were only five of them. They’d all gotten out of school early due to the flu bug and they were celebrating. The rest of their friends were home, sick. Flash had finished up his first beer and was pondering whether to drink a second one when three zeds came out of the darkness. Devon was closest to them. They attacked him immediately.

  Flash had heard one or two news reports of sick people becoming violent, but when he saw his friend being eaten alive, he took off running in unadulterated terror. Erin was right behind him.

  They tried to go home, but their family members were infected as well. It seemed to them everyone was infected. Or dead.

  So, they wandered aimlessly for days, mostly trying to avoid the infected and finding food to eat. They hid in the park and eventually hooked up with four other people. Starvation forced them into the more populated areas and ultimately, they made their home in one of the prestigious hotels located on the beach where there was a large amount of food in storage.

  Flash still could not believe how incredibly high the infection rate was. Virginia Beach had a permanent population of over four hundred thousand, and that did not even count the tourists and military personnel. Out of all those people, there were only the three of them left alive who seemed to have not been infected. The rest of the populace became infected or killed by the infected.

  They were going back now. The satellite feeds showed almost no activity. Their mission was mostly recon work; ride around, get an idea of zed activity, attempt to locate any survivors. He absently patted one of the kit bags. It had a couple of cameras, extra memory cards, battery packs, a solar recharger, and most importantly, a satellite radio. Zach emphasized the necessity of good Intel, and that included photographs, lots of photographs.