Willet, Chapter 7, Part I
I hope everyone had a happy holiday, here’s the start of chapter 7 to get your New Years Eve off to a running start. I have a lot of irons in the fire for 2016 and I’ll do my best to stay ahead with my writing for this series. I have to admit it seems fruitless sometimes keeping this going so if you are reading it and you want it to continue please leave some feedback.
If you are new to this series here is the link to Chapter 1 Part I.
Chapter 7
It’s 7am and there isn’t any point sleeping any more, we have to utilize as much daylight as possible and we all passed out last night by 10pm anyway. Powdered eggs and some canned bacon for breakfast, I think any type of bacon is good even if it’s canned – heck spam would be fine at this point. Tinker Bell eyes me getting ready, watching how and where I put my rig together, Steve comes strolling in with a big box.
“Here’s Santa! I found some presents for you guys. I finally found the combination to the safe. It was under the drawer in the Supply Sergeant’s desk.”
“Well it’s about time. We could’ve used those about two months ago.” Mack walks over and grabs a suppressor. “Nice. This’ll make things a little quieter. Maybe there won’t be so much moaning on our next encounter.”
I had used a suppressor a couple of times during Trent’s classes. Even though they’re illegal in California Trent always ran suppressed during classes. People used to call them silencers which is not really true. At best they only reduce about 1/2 the decibels. A big gun is still pretty loud. These are Surefire suppressors and fit right over the muzzle break, with one twist locking them in place and they’re ready for action. Steve tosses a brand new desert tan suppressor over to me.
“Hey, heads up. Know how to use that puppy?”
“Yeah.” I said catching it.
“I knew they were in there, I almost got some det cord out to see if I could blast my way through the door.” Steve said walking over to me looking at the my rig and giving it the once over. I had attached my tomahawk to the outside of the vest on my back. I’m able to reach the handle and pull it over my shoulder if I needed it. On my belt is the Kabar and clipped to my pocket is my trusty Benchmade folder. I’m carrying six 30 round mags, topping each mag off with 28 rounds and one mag seated in my carbine. I haven’t chambered a round so the rifle isn’t on safe. Pulling the charging handle back just far enough Steve could see the chamber is empty. “Go ahead and chamber a round, there’s no reason not to be ready, just keep it on safe.”
Taking the weapon back I chamber a round by pulling back on the charging handle as hard and as fast as I can letting my palm slap into my shoulder. It’s a habit to use large gross motor skills. Trent always told me that during a firefight the fine motor skills are the first to go, so you train every action like reloading your weapon with gross motor skills. I had found a ball cap with an American Flag on the front last night that was desert tan as well. It’s good to have some shade over my eyes to keep the glare of the sun out of them.
Pulling the door open Tinker Bell stood silhouetted against the barracks, sun streaming in so bright through the door everyone shielded their eyes. As my eyes began to adjust I saw Tinker Bell walk out and stop in the middle of the barracks. Looking into the sun she closed her eyes and let the warmth soak in, a breeze kicks up some dust and it swirls around her. Wearing a shemagh around her neck she looks like an Operator in the middle east.
Getting into the bug is tight but I’m able to squeeze into the back seat with Tyler. Tinker Bell sits shotgun and Mack is in the driver seat. Opening the gate Steve and Anthony nod to us as we pass. Leaning in Anthony says over the Bug’s engine: “Remember, Murphy was a grunt.” meaning that especially now Murphy’s law applies and if it might go wrong it will.
“Roger that, you guys will be the Alamo if things go South.” Tinker Bell says. Steve gives Mack a fist bump.
Turning to me Tyler smiles. “I’m not sure I like the analogy of having a fort that fell to an enemy force as our fall back.”
Turning the Bug onto Pacific Coast Highway I look out the rear window watching them close the gate. We are now in the wild West again I think to myself. The windows are rolled down and the sea air is a constant stream through the bug and into our faces.
Not two minutes down the road we hit our first obstacle. A pileup of cars. An 18 wheeler must’ve lost control and run over another car when the EMP hit. The drivers’ body decomposing in the front seat. The cars behind it had a tough time coming to a stop without power brakes and steering. Some had been pushed off to the side of the road as if they were hoping emergency vehicles would’ve soon rolled through. Help was never on it’s way and they never really got the entire road clear.
Stopping the bug, we climb out and are able to push several of the vehicles to one side and create a pathway wide enough for the bug to pass. Careful not to scratch the paint Mack navigates the Bug. Tinker Bell gives him some crap for even caring. Saying this was potentially the last vehicle on the planet that would run during the apocalypse but Mack argues there is no reason to ruin it. The fact is that any vintage car will run as long as it was made before computer chips were put into cars. If your car has electronic fuel injection then you’ll be shit outta luck, but if you had a Willys jeep from WWII you’d be loving it right now. There’s plenty of gas for at least another six months or so till it starts getting stale but there are ways to make wood grain alcohol that will allow engines to run pretty much indefinitely. I’ll have to try to figure that out at some point.
Looking down the coast line I can see movement.
“I think we’ve got company…” I say pointing down PCH towards Malibu.
“Let’s get a little closer and see how many there are.” Tinker Bell holds the seat forward allowing me to get in. “Careful you don’t rip the upholstery.” She smiles as I crouch down. That’s the first time she’s cracked the veil and let me see behind the curtain. “Ready boys? Time to get on it.”
Driving slowly we progress down PCH easily. There’s enough room between cars and on the center island to cruise at 20-30 miles an hour. Within two minutes we get to a spot where we can see several Zombies in evening wear walking through the traffic. Mack stops the bug and Tinker Bell opens her door. Resting the fore grip of her rifle on the door she takes several Zombies out at an incredible range for her iron sights.
“Dude, watch the fucking paint on the top of the window rail!” Mack’s actually serious about preserving this vehicle. “Do you know how many hours I have invested in this vehicle?”
Tinker Bell leans in. “Are you fucking serious? You’re an idiot.”
“I think we should explore some alternate means of transportation.” I offer. “There’s got to be some vintage vehicles we can get to run.” The Bug has it’s limitations being a two door. Getting in and out of the vehicle isn’t a very tactical operation.
“Will you two just shut up and let’s get a move on.” Tyler had about enough with Mack and Tinker Bell bickering. “Let’s scout this out and get back to base. I feel like a prisoner back here. ”
I am definitely impressed, Tinker Bell made those head shots easily, one shot per Zombie and they dropped like the electricity had been turned off as soon as the bullet entered their skulls. Driving past we clearly see they are actually wearing evening wear; gowns and tuxedos. The female has lost her shoes and her feet are worn to the bone from walking on the road.
“Have all the Zombies who have gotten caught in the wire been wearing formal attire?” I ask.
“What?” Tinker Bell yelled back. “Oh, Yeah. Why?”
“Well don’t you think that’s a little odd?”
“No, it’s Malibu, they’re rich. Who knows what was going on.”
72 Hour Bag • • • - - - • • • 