The Eliminators 2 Page 12

  “Wait.” Rachel held up her hand. “You know American Pie?”

  “Um … what Eliminator wouldn’t?”

  “Well, roll me in cracker crumbs and deep fry me to a golden brown!”

  “Fred.” She nudged him. “This is the moment you waited for. You said you wanted to run into somebody that can play and knows the song. I’m sorry it’s him.”

  Yates strummed once hard. “Ha, ha. Rigs?”

  “No.” Rigs waved his hand about.

  “Jeremiah, come on,” Barry urged. “We all need a laugh, if it’s a parody, it’ll do that.”

  “Okay. No making fun of my voice.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Barry.

  Rigs cleared his throat.

  Yate struck the chord, “Whenever you’re ready. Key of G?”

  “Whatever?” Rigs shrugged. “I don’t know. Go ahead.”

  Yates struck the first chord again. He waited, then struck it again.

  Rigs began to sing, “Not … that … long ago. I can still remember … when things began to fall apart.”

  He was garnished with excited proud cheers from everyone.

  He continued, “I knew if I had the chance … I would take a trip to …”

  Everyone sang out the word, “France!”

  Rigs smiled as he sang, “And maybe beat the plague just … for a while.”

  Yates nodded. “This is good.”

  “February made us quiver. Bloody vomit, fevers, shivers … nothing that we could fight. People dropping left and right,” He kept going. “You can’t imagine my surprise, when I saw the dead … begin to rise. The world had met it’s big demise … the day the people died.”

  Yates, strummed fully, building up excitedly to the progression and firing into the chorus, but Rigs didn’t sing. He drew silent, which caused Yates to stop. “What? Sing, it’s the chorus.”

  “I … that’s all I got,” Rigs said.

  Yates struck a sour chord. “What? You didn’t write any more?”

  “That’s as far as I got.”

  “You said you wrote a parody of the song, not just a verse,” Yates said. “Why didn’t you write at least a chorus.”

  “I was stumped. I drew a blank.” Rigs shrugged.

  “Oh, great, just great.” Yates stood up. “This is gonna drive me nuts. It’ll stick and bother me like when you can’t remember a person’s name.” he began to hand the guitar to Fred. “I’m going to …” He paused and his eyes widened as he tilted his head.

  “What’s wrong?” Fred asked.

  “Let me see the back of that guitar.”

  “Why?”

  “I swore I saw the number nine.”

  Fred looked. “Nope. It’s a six. See.” He flashed it quickly.

  “Oh. Okay. I’m going to bed.” He walked into his EPEV.

  “Just …” Rachel said. “When I almost, only a little, didn’t mind him.” She reached down, grabbed her bottle and extended it to Rigs. “Good job. So what, you didn’t write a chorus. You’ve given us all something to think about.”

  Rigs took the bottle. “Thanks. Right now, we need to think about tomorrow. At sunrise we are back on the job. It won’t be the same without Kasper.” He raised the bottle to a friend and colleague lost. It truly wasn’t going to be the same, but it would feel good to be back at it, trying to make the world a better and safer place.

  NINETEEN - LISTEN

  March 11 – Day 326

  Stroud OK

  “Alright, so …” Yates set a silver case on the coffee table in the EPEV, as everyone gathered around. “First, we’re going in teams so, these are one per team.” He handed out what looked like phones.

  “And these are?” Rigs asked.

  “They are a mini version of what we have for distance. Sandy will be focusing on buildings. These are for street. Barry, you taking point here at the RVs?”

  “I am.”

  “Then you have one.” Yates gave him one. “They’re self explanatory, but radio me with questions. Remember, Sandy will be navigating so she’ll be everyone’s set of eyes.” He gave one to Rachel. “I assume you’re going with Fred?”

  “Yes, absolutely, that leaves you and Rigs.”

  “Sweet,” Fred commented.

  He then opened the case. “These are trackers. Batteries last about six months, they are waterproof. I want everyone to have one.” He started passing them out. “Sandy and Rachel, only because I have them and I want them used.” He handed Sandy her pink plastic bracelet.

  “Looks like a Fitbit,” Sandy said.

  “Thank you. I take that as a compliment. I tried.”

  “Are these … included in the fourteen million price tag?” Rigs asked.

  “Yes.” Yates gave one to Rachel. “I know pink is probably not your thing. You probably hate it. But I don’t have any blue left.”

  “Okay, why would I hate pink?”

  “Because you know.”

  “No, what?”

  “You’re a … well, you know.”

  “I’m a well, you know, what?”

  “A lesbian,” Yates said. “I know my lesbian friends don’t like pink.”

  “I am not a lesbian. Why … why would you think that?”

  “You have that …” he swirled his finger around. “Captain Marvel, short hair thing happening.”

  “Oh my God,” Rachel exclaimed.

  “Sorry,” Fred said. “I kind of got that, too.”

  “And,” Yates said. “You don’t wear makeup.”

  “It’s the fucking apocalypse,” Rachel argued. “Who wears make up?”

  Yates pointed to Sandy.

  “I like to feel good about myself.”

  Rigs turned to Barry. “And you are not correcting her about her language.”

  “Fuck you, Rigs,” Rachel snapped. “And I’m not mad about being called a lesbian, I’m mad because my new team members are stereotyping bigots.” She snatched the bracelet.

  “Why do we need to wear one?” Fred asked.

  “If there’s a problem, we can find you. We can pinpoint you if we see trouble. It also helps us know if you’re dead or alive …” He shifted his eyes when he saw Rachel put in her pocket. “Well not if you don’t wear it.”

  “I have it on me. I’m not wearing it.”

  “Fine, at least we’ll get a heat signal,” Yates said. “If you were navigating, you’d sing a different tune about others wearing them.”

  “Oh.” Rachel snapped her finger. “Speaking of tunes. Check this out, Rigs, maybe you can use these lines,” she half sang the words. “The sweep teams say it’s clean, not from what we’ve seen. The dead surrounding you and me.”

  Rigs nodded. “That’s good.”

  “I came up with a line, too,” said Fred. “How about … before we mark it red, we have to hit them in the head.”

  “Stop.” Yates spoke up as he closed the case. “And while you both were brainstorming lyrics to jump on Rigs gravy train did you happen to come up with a chorus?”

  Rachel shook her head. “No.”

  “It was tricky,” Fred added. “I tried.”

  “See?” Rigs said. “You just draw a blank.”

  “I’m killing you all.” Yates lifted the case. “It was out of my head now it’s stuck again, thank you. Come on Sandy, let’s get you situated.” He led the way to the navigation room.

  Rigs looked at his tracker. “Do you think these things work that well?”

  Barry nodded. “They were the Golden team, best of the best for a reason.”

  “Yeah, but they’re little computers, everything is computers. They can’t see, smell or feel, so …” Rigs turned it on. “Fourteen million dollars or not, how much better can they really be over human instinct?”

  <><><><>

  “Nothing,” Sandy said over the radio. “Nothing in the hardware store.”

  Yates lifted his radio. “Upstairs, I’m looking at three floors.”

  “Looks clear.”


  Rigs shook his head. “Ask if she’s sure, I saw something.”

  “But you’re not seeing in the building,” said Yates. “You’re reading the outdoor scan.” He looked over at the controller. “I’m not seeing anything.”

  “It was just here.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if it picks up birds or something causing shadows.” Yates lifted the radio. “Alright, doc, we’re moving on to the next building.”

  “Okay, give me a minute, I see something in Rachel’s sector.”

  “Roger that,” Yates said and extended his hand to Rigs. “Let me see.”

  “Maybe I’m reading it wrong.”

  “It’s pretty cut and dry.”

  “How is she able to see into buildings from a vehicle parked a block away and we can’t see them using the hand devices?” Rigs asked.

  “Because I spent two hours this morning. Setting the scanners in the areas we’re doing today. She’s connected to those.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “When we finish these areas today. I’ll move them to another tomorrow.”

  “Al, come in.” Sandy called.

  “Why do you people insist on calling me Al.” Yates lifted the radio. “What’s up?”

  “I’m seeing something weird in a house in Rachel’s section. House four …”

  “Is she there?”

  “No, she’s in the house two doors down even though I told her it was empty. I don’t know if something is wrong here.”

  “What is it doing?”

  “Two of them. Just small and moving weird.”

  Rigs looked at Yates. “Kids?”

  “Could be and they’re dangerous.” Yates brought the radio to his mouth again. “What is the system identifying them as?”

  “Nothing. I think it’s broke.”

  “I’m on my way.” Yates handed Rigs the radio. “She won’t respond to me, tell her not to go in anymore houses until I take a look.” He and Rigs began to walk back.

  “Rach, Rach come in,” Rigs called out. “Rach.”

  “I’m here. I’m fine.”

  “Rach, good, listen, don’t go in anymore houses.”

  Nothing.

  “Rach.”

  No response.

  “Fred. Fred come in.”

  “We’re fine,” Fred replied. “Rachel said stop radioing we’re trying to be quiet.”

  Rigs lowered the radio and shook his head. “Let’s just find out what’s going on and then we’ll go get them.”

  “Hopefully it’s a glitch.”

  “You think? I mean have you had weird signals before?”

  “Yeah, last I saw the vehicle. I’m sure,” Yates said. “It’s nothing.”

  <><><><>

  “See. See, right there.” Sandy pointed to the screen. The image looked like an airport scanner x-ray of a house. Showing the frame of the house, the shape of furniture. Sandy pointed to an oval blue spot located in the upper bedroom. It changed shapes like a red blood cell moving through the veins. It was there and then it wasn’t. “There.” She pointed when the shape was down in the kitchen. It moved fast and disappeared.

  “That doesn’t look like a kid,” said Rigs.

  “No, you would see the human shape.”

  “That looks like an orb.”

  Yates pulled the keyboard forward. “Come on, come on,” he beckoned. “Where are you?”

  “There,” Rigs said. “And … there.”

  The shape appeared upstairs, then instantly down, then it showed up across the home and that was when Yates locked in on it. “Got it.”

  “What is it?” Rigs asked.

  “It’s coming up 10 kilograms.”

  “Twenty-two pounds? Is it a bowling ball?” Rigs guessed.

  Yates clicked hard on the keys when it popped up on the second floor. “A bowling ball that not only defies all logic but is smaller upstairs.”

  “It got smaller?” Sandy asked.

  “Could it be more than one?” Rigs asked. “Like maybe it’s not jumping around, but two or three of them too small to be caught on scanner.”

  “Fuck,” Yates said. “Fuck, I know what they are.” He backed up. “We have to go. Sandy get ahold of them, tell them not to go in that house.”

  Two beeps rang out.

  Sandy looked up. “Too late. They’re there.”

  “Keep trying.” Yates ordered. He raced out of the room, stopping at a tall narrow closet in the hall. Hurriedly he opened it and pulled out two automatic rifles, handing one to Rigs.

  “We’re shooting. What are they?”

  “Growlers,” Yates answered and rushed out.

  “And they are?”

  “Dogs.”

  <><><><>

  “Hear me out,” Fred said as they stood on the porch of the number four house. “Maybe … it’s not a good idea to turn off our radios.”

  “They keep calling out, like they don't trust us using the equipment.”

  “What if it’s something important and need to find us?” Fred asked.

  She pointed to his bracelet. “They can find us.”

  “Rigs said to wait.”

  “Rigs is just bored,” Rachel said. “They’re skipping buildings and just marking an E on them. No wonder the Golder Cavalry got a town done in four days. They didn’t check anything. I don’t trust the system. We would have skipped two houses if we listened to Sandy when she said there were no stiffs in there.”

  “There weren’t.”

  “Still, you never know.” She reached for the door. “We check it out anyhow.”

  They stepped inside.

  In the almost year he had been an Eliminator, Rigs had never heard of or even seen a dog. He figured the dead feasted on them.

  “Are you sure?” he asked Yates.

  “Positive. This is the first time they showed up on the system. They’re too fast to pick up.”

  “They’re just pack dogs? Rabid?”

  “No, they’re dead, infected. Bit by stiffs and turned. They’re faster and more dangerous than even the kids.”

  “Shit. So you have been up against them.”

  “Only twice in a town. Usually they’re out on the road. We learned fast just to shoot them, they aren’t easy to take down. They leap really high and they’re on you before you know it.”

  “Nobody in division one had ever mentioned them,” Rigs said. “I would think it would be an important safety tip.”

  “Division one may not have them. The weather is colder, farther north. Who knows, but you’re in division two. We have them. And they’re hunters. You don’t get them, they track you.”

  “That’s just … sick.”

  “Tell me about it.” Yates stopped when they arrived at the end of the street. “Fourth house.’ He pointed.

  “They have to be in there. We should call out for them.” Rigs took a breath. “Ra …”

  Yates shot his hand over Rigs’ mouth. “No, no noise. We don’t want to call the growlers. Let’s just go.”

  Rachel ran her fingers over the waist high table behind the sofa. “Not even dusty. Look at this floor. How’d they get the hardwood so shiny?”

  “Not wax, wax builds up. Bet it was olive oil.”

  “Never heard of that.”

  “Really works well.”

  “This floor is beautiful. Doesn’t even look like the sweep team came in. Okay … up or down?”

  “I’ll take up.” Fred immediately went to the stairs and, barbecue fork extended made his way up.

  “Man, this is such a nice little house. The apocalypse and my house wasn’t this clean.” Rachel walked through the living room into the dining room. The layout was so similar to so many other houses she and Kasper had gone into.

  For as clean as the house was, there was a sour smell to it. Somewhere in a room, there had to be a stiff. She pulled out her gladius. When she withdrew it, her eyes lifted to the ceiling when she heard not only a thump, but what sounding like running. “Fred?�
��

  “Rach!” he cried out. “Get out of the …”

  Slam. She heard a door shut.

  “Fred? Are you alright?”

  She could hear him yelling something. It was muffled. She turned, deciding to go check on him, when she heard the footsteps on the stairs and a hurried thump, thump, thump.

  “Fred,” she stepped from the dining room. “Did you fall down the …”

  She wasn’t sure what it was lying on the floor at the base of the stairs, but she knew she had never seen anything like it. It looked like a German shepherd, but half bald, half covered with matted fur. Its hind leg was clearly rotted, flies buzzed around it.

  It rolled over quickly, snarling almost a demonic sounding growl.

  Rachel knew she couldn’t run forward only back. She raised her gladius and drew her honing rod.

  The animal got on its feet, its paw slid on the floor as he charged her way, faster than anything had ever come for her.

  She backed up, knowing she couldn’t turn her back.

  Then the animal leapt in the air lunging for her.

  It was inches from her face. So close she could smell how rotten it was, see the black tar substance dripping from its jaws. It was right there. No time to be scared or even raise her weapons fully, when the single gunshot sent the beast flying sideways and then to the ground.

  Still holding her breath, Rachel saw Yates standing there.

  “Move!” Yates ordered.

  Before Rachel could say ‘what’ he fired again.

  He was so close, the firing of the weapon caused a loud and painful ringing in her ears. She turned to see another dog behind her.

  Rachel closed her eyes tightly, grabbed her ear. “Fred. Where’s Fred?”

  She couldn’t hear anything, she saw Yates look like he was yelling for Rigs. She didn’t need to hear him to know where he was, because Rigs fired at another dead dog that came barreling down the stairs.

  Yates stormed away and to the stairs.

  As Rigs walked up to her, Rachel raised her eyes and saw Fred, she sighed in relief.