The Eliminators 2 Read online

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  The song American Pie blasted from the exterior speakers on the RV and Kasper, Barry and Rachel just waited. Taking a three point position on the street.

  If there were any infected in the stores, they would come out. At least that was what they were taught in training.

  Sure enough, two wandered out. One out of the pizza place and the other from between two buildings.

  Both did the same thing.

  They looked toward the music and when they saw the three of them, they ran, top speed their way.

  “He’s headed for you, Barry,” Kasper said.

  Barry held a baseball bat, he wound it up and prepared to swing. He was Babe Ruth of the zombie apocalypse and clocked that stiff hard, causing blood to spray out and splatter on his face shield.

  The other ran right by Rachel who was standing point and directly to Kasper. “What?” she said. “Am I invisible?”

  Kasper nailed it, one shot, the honing rod. The stiff weakened but he didn’t fall down. It hadn’t impaled him deep enough. Bracing the rod, Kasper pulled while using his foot to push the dead away. It fell to the ground and Kasper quickly finished the job.

  Sandy’s voice came over the speaker with the music. “Should I stop the song?”

  “Nah,” Barry said. “I like it. Let it play.”

  “Oh, god help us,” Sandy complained.

  “You good?” Rachel asked Kasper.

  “Yeah. I am. Barry, you have this, while we go inside?” Kasper asked.

  “Yes, but listen if I call.”

  Kasper did a half assed salute and headed into the first business. Perhaps they could have started at the beginning of the block, but Rachel expressed how she wanted to go in there.

  He didn’t blame her, he was curious about how the sweep teams handled the shops and businesses.

  They approached Dee’s Hub, a little bar and grill. The windows were shattered, bullets had riddled the exterior, chipping the bricks and the door was propped open.

  The Sweep Teams red lines had a number on top, indicating twenty-two dead were retrieved from that bar.

  Kasper banged on the doorway. “Hello!”

  Nothing.

  “It’s clear,” Rachel said, stepped inside and immediately covered her mouth. They had taken the bodies but there were body parts, innards rotted on the floor, the flies buzzed about trying to get something out of them.

  Huge puddles of dried blood were everywhere. The bar, the floor, stools.

  “All it took was one,” Rachel said. “One person probably infected everyone in this bar.”

  “That’s what it looks like. I’ll check the back.”

  Rachel nodded and walked behind the bar. “Hey, there are several unopened bottles here.”

  “Any spiced rum?” Kasper called out as he walked to the back. “Sandy likes that.”

  “Yeah. I’ll grab it.” She examined the bottles, lifting them to the bar. “Don’t let it go to waste,” she said softly, then raised her voice. “Sweep team didn’t take everything.” She grabbed a bottle of vodka, then quickly lifted her head when she heard the thump. “Did you get one?”

  “Yeah, the cook. He was in the freezer. Looks like he got bit.”

  “Unbelievable. Why didn’t he just leave. They don’t turn right away.” She uncapped a bottle then lifted two glasses, blowing into them clearing any dust.

  “Kitchen’s clear.” Kasper returned. “I checked all closets.”

  “Basement?”

  “Shit.” Kasper stepped away, paused, returned for his drink, downed it and walked away.

  “Thank you!” Rachel yelled.

  She stated many times to the group and at training she wasn’t going into any basements. Every scary movie she had ever seen involved a basement of some sort.

  She didn’t down her drink, she lifted it, bringing it to her mouth and walked from behind the bar. Rachel was never a ‘bar’ person, she and Cliff would go out to dinner and have cocktails. Even when she was younger, she didn’t go to bars.

  Just looking around made her sad. Old photos graced the walls and Rachel walked around looking at them. It was a family establishment, at one point it looked like an Italian restaurant. The pictures on the walls showed checkered table clothes and an elderly couple smiling and holding a bowl of pasta.

  It was truly sad. All the hopes and dreams of those in the pictures, even those of the current owner was dashed and crushed in an instant.

  All life was.

  Life would never be the same. All Rachel and the other Eliminators could do was try their hardest to make it safe again.

  “Done.” Kasper returned. “Ready to move on?”

  “Yeah, let’s grab the bottles on the bar.” Rachel backed up and stopped. She reached for the photo of the elderly couple with the pasta and lifted it from the wall.

  “What’s that about?”

  “I don’t know. I like it. It was someone’s family and they hung this on the wall to be remembered. So let’s remember them.”

  “Wow, that’s deep. You aren’t usually like that.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  They walked to the bar, Rachel finished her drink, leaving the glass there as she grabbed a couple of the bottles.

  Kasper grabbed the rest and they walked to the door. “Cool. The song stopped.”

  “Thank God.”

  He set the bottles down on the ground and reached for the spray paint can he had in a holster on his belt. As he lifted it, the song started again. “Dudes, why …?” he whined.

  “Let’s move on. Mark it clear.”

  Kasper would do that, he’d mark the building checked and cleared and he would do it by transforming the Sweep Team mark into the letter E.

  TEN – HESITATION

  The house would work great. It wasn’t destroyed, shot up or blood stained. It was checked by the Sweep Team with no bodies taken.

  Rigs and Charles double checked the property. A home on a corner lot, not many windows. It would suffice as a safe place to camp.

  Rigs radioed the RV, informing them to bring the vehicle and items into the house. He marked the home with an E, then he and Charles moved to the next street.

  “How many times do you think they’ll play this song?” Charles asked of the music that carried to them.

  “I think they don’t even notice it now.”

  “I lived in an area much like this,” Charles said.

  “Yeah, me, too. Little suburb neighborhood. What did you do before all this?” Rigs asked.

  “A painter.”

  “A painter? Like artist or house.”

  Charles chuckled. “House. Why? Does that surprise you?”

  “Yeah, your skill level is awesome.”

  Charles shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I kind of just learned it to survive and beat the hell out of these things with my anger.”

  “Like Rachel,” Rigs said.

  “When it happened, I mean to us, my family, we were trying to get to a refugee center in Reading. We were on the highway, stuck in traffic, a lot like James and his family. It was late, there were a lot of people, we were camping out on the road and they just happened upon us.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. I thought I had my family protected. Got my wife and three kids in the car. But the damn things open doors. Which surprises me they didn’t get Lola today. But … it takes them a bit before the realize they can open them. My son didn’t have his door locked. They grabbed him and just …” Charles sighed out. “Two of them grabbed him. He was thirteen. Dragged him. Tearing him apart in seconds. I tried you know, but they were in the car so fast. Too fast. I was pulling on them, hitting them. My wife, the bravest fucking woman I know, climbed in the back to protect our kids. I can still hear her calling for me. I was able to get my youngest daughter out. It was too late for my wife and other son. I ran with my girl. Ran. Help came but she was bit. The rest well … she got sick and they stopped her fro
m turning.”

  “Man.” Rigs shook his head. “Again, I am so sorry you had to see that.”

  “We all have seen shit.”

  “How long into the sickness was this?”

  “A week.”

  “So it really did happen that fast?” Rigs asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Weren’t you reading up on it?”

  “No. I heard something about it overseas and didn’t think much about it. By the time I paid attention it was here, and I was in Nassau.”

  “You made it back, that’s awesome.”

  “That’s how we ended up in Pittsburgh. All of us are from all over. What was it like?”

  “What?”

  “When the sickness hit.”

  “Oh my God, it was chaos. That’s the best way I can describe it, pure chaos. You stayed with people you knew and even then it didn’t mean they wouldn’t get sick. How about you?”

  “Me, well, in this I lost my best friend, Barry’s son. He was like my brother. But my wife … kids, they … died before all this. Carbon Monoxide poisoning. It crushed me losing them but now I am glad they went peacefully.”

  “I can see why.” Charles stopped walking. “Okay. Elks Street. Post office or the house?”

  “Let’s do the house, post office mark shows thirteen. We’ll go in as a team.”

  “This is a duplex,” said Charles. “Two markings.”

  “One body. Between both, six survivors. Not bad. Let’s check out the right side first.”

  They walked up the two steps to the shared porch. One of those big wheel style bikes sat there.

  Like many other places the door was open. Rigs couldn’t stop looking at the bike. Children had lived there. At least they wouldn’t see the bodies, and that was a good thing.

  They called out several times and waited. No dead came running and it was safe to go in.

  The home was clean and free of blood. It was tidy, the pillows placed in position on the couch, knickknacks on a mantle and he saw a tablecloth on the dining room table.

  “Maybe it was the other side with the body,” Charles stated, walking slightly ahead of Rig through the living room.

  “We still have to go upstairs.”

  “I wonder if they left the home with the Sweep team. There’s no pictures.”

  “That’s a good sign. That really does mean survivors.” In the corner of the living room by the window was a toy box. Connected to the television was a video game unit. “A family definitely lived here.”

  “This is strange, did you ever see this?” Charles asked.

  Rigs pulled his attention away from the toys, turned and looked. Charles stood in the archway between the dining room and living room. “What is it?” he walked toward Charles.

  “A smoke detector with a huge strobe light.”

  “Hmm?” Rigs started to shake his head and stopped. His eyes widened. “Shit. Someone in this house was deaf.”

  “What?” Charles looked at Rigs.

  No sooner did Rigs say that he saw the child. The child about eight, clearly was infected and had risen.

  The child didn’t move. He stood in the dining room staring. “Charles, watch out.” Not only did Rigs raise his pistol, he reached for his crowbar but hesitated. Could he really bludgeon a child, dead or not?

  For the sake of the child and his parents, it was up to Rigs, no matter how difficult to end the child’s suffering.

  He aimed.

  “No, wait. Don’t shoot him.”

  “What do we do? Capture it.”

  Both men stared at the child.

  “He’s not coming for us. Maybe … maybe kids are different. I never seen one turn.”

  “Me either.”

  Slowly and cautiously, Charles withdrew his own pistol. “What if … what if we try to get him. And end it for him … not so violently. It’s a kid.”

  “I know.”

  The child only looked, head tilted, then he spun and ran off into the kitchen.

  “Wow, did that just happen?” Charles asked, lowering his weapon. “It must hit kids differently.”

  The fast thumping told Rigs instantly it wasn’t the case, but it registered to him too late. It was a fast moving blur he caught through the corner of his eye. Rigs spun, aimed his weapon, and in that split second, that ever so slight moment of hesitation when he realized it was another child, it was too late. The infected kid whooshed by him through the living room and leapt for Charles.

  He immediately went for Charles’ shin, clutching on to him.

  Charles’s head went back and his face scrunched up and he released an open mouth, silent scream of pain.

  Rigs reached for his crowbar at the same time Charles reached for his.

  Rigs swore that moment was the first time he had ever blacked out. It wasn’t long, perhaps the sight was too disturbing to see or remember.

  Thirty seconds, maybe, were gone. When Rigs emerged from his black out, the infected child was put down, two crowbars lay on the floor and Charles bled profusely from the calf of his left leg.

  He hurried over to the table, pulling the tablecloth as he lifted his radio. “E-team, come in. Man down. Need assistance.”

  “Where are you?” Barry asked.

  “Directly one block behind the safe house,” Rigs used his knife to cut the tablecloth, then rip it. “On Elks. Next to post office.”

  “We’ll be there in ten seconds, I see the post office.”

  “We should have done the post office first.” Charles tried to make light.

  Rigs wrapped his leg with the cloth to stop the bleeding then looked at his watch to check the time of injury. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I hesitated.”

  “We both did.”

  “I’m the leader of this team. I should not have hesitated.” His head cocked at the sound of the vehicle. “They’re here.” Rigs braced under Charles’ arm and helped him to stand. “We need to get you to the RV.”

  Charles didn’t walk. “It was a kid, Rigs. A kid. It doesn’t matter. Yeah, he was infected. He was a kid.”

  “You’re right.” Rigs led him toward the door. “I still hesitated.”

  “Yeah, well, only a heartless idiot wouldn’t hesitate to take down a kid.”

  Outside Kasper’s loud voice carried to them. “Holy shit, Rach. I didn’t even see him coming. He almost got Barry.”

  “You got him, though,” Rachel said.

  “Yeah, little fucker is fast.”

  Rigs cringed as he opened the door. “What were you saying about heartless idiots?”

  Charles shook his head, and limping, he and Rigs walked out.

  He was glad that the team arrived fast. Time was of the essence when it came to helping Charles, and at that moment, saving him was most important.

  ELEVEN – FIRST DAY

  Sandy moved fast, a radio call for a ‘man down’ could only mean one thing. Someone was bit. When she saw the makeshift bandage on Charles’ leg, she immediately grabbed a syringe of the antiviral medication.

  She had to get it into his blood stream fast, then make even faster preparations for the amputation. She raced to them the second they emerged on to the porch.

  “How much pain?” she asked Charles

  “I haven’t had worse,” he said.

  She spun around. “Kasper, Rachel, two blocks over we saw one of those urgent cares. I need you to run down there, make sure it’s clear and get ready for us.”

  “Got it,” Kasper replied.

  “Rigs, help me get him inside, we’ll drive down there. I’ll also need you to contact command for a medical team. But first …” Sandy lifted the syringe. “I don’t want to waste any time.”

  “Stop,” Charles told her. “Please.”

  “What?”

  “Everyone just … stop. Kasper, Rachel, don’t go anywhere.” Charles looked at Rigs. “Can you help me into the RV?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Rigs faced Sandy. “Another minute won�
�t matter, will it?”

  “Every minute counts.”

  “It’s okay,” Charles said. “Rigs?”

  “Sure.”

  Sandy was baffled. Rigs assisted Charles to the RV and inside, then Sandy followed.

  Charles was seated on the bench seat when Sandy entered. Barry, Kasper and Rachel had stepped in before her. A part of her knew what was going on.

  “Dude,” Kasper said. “We have to get to the clinic. We can’t chance this thing getting ahead of you.”

  Charles shook his head. “Um … Rachel, can I have some of your stash? The whiskey please.”

  Rachel looked at Sandy with slight trepidation. “Um … sure.”

  “No,” Sandy said. “You have surgery.”

  “No, I’m not. Rachel, please.”

  “Sure.”

  “Rachel, no,” Sandy held up her hand and Rachel stopped. “What do you mean, you’re not?”

  “I don’t want the amputation but I do want that drink.”

  “I’ll get it,” Rachel said.

  “No you won’t,” Sandy halted her again. “What do you mean you don’t want the amputation?”

  “I don’t. But I really want that drink.” He lifted his eyes to Rachel. “Please.”

  “How about I bring the bottle?” Rachel asked.

  “How about you don’t,” said Sandy.

  “Yes,” Charles said.

  “No,” argued Sandy.

  “Rach,” Rigs said. “Get it.”

  “Jeremiah?” Barry asked. “Why are you going against Sandy? She’s the doctor.”

  “Because I know what’s happening here,” said Rigs.

  “Okay. Stop.” Rachel held up here hand. “No more back and forth. I’m getting the bottle.” She walked away to the small hallway that led to the back.

  “Charles,” Sandy spoke gently. “If I do not amputate, you will die.”

  Charles smiled gently, then glanced up to Rachel who returned with the bottle. She poured him some in a glass and handed it to him. “Sandy, that’s the point.” Charles downed the drink and handed it back to Rachel. “Another, please.”

  “I don’t understand.” Sandy shook her head. “You can live with an amputation.”