The convoy out of California had been on the road for nearly three weeks. They had spent considerable time moving around large population areas and combating zombies when necessary. Considering the distance they had travelled, it was a marvel that none of their number had been killed.
There had been battles and some communities were not as welcoming as others had been. Major Thorton was savvy enough to realize when he was holding a losing hand and didn’t press the issue. When some communities showed a preference for fight it was a wiser choice to hold back.
The overall picture Thorton got as he crossed the heartland was there were more survivors than he originally had anticipated, but the lack of effective communication kept them isolated from each other. A few communities had set up runners, but for the most part, they were self reliant. This worked well for Ken, as he intended to make sure no other power came into being after he took over the governing of the country.
For the moment, he was enjoying a little rest and relaxation. He and his men had fought a number of zombies around the St. Louis area, so much so that he had been forced to take his convoy off the designated path and head around the city area. When they reached the river, Thorton realized he had to find a way across as the river was higher than he expected.
Fortunately, the Mississippi is crossed by several small bridges and the group managed to find one in short order. After the crossing, Major Thorton and his men found themselves in a state park, Pere Marquette and were taking a little rest after their weeks on the road. The park was in pretty decent shape and the hotel on the premises gave each man a room to himself and a bed for the first time in a while. There was plenty of water, thanks to the river and the woods provided a good amount of fresh meat. The men had explored the area and had not found much in the way of zombie activity. Down the road a little bit were some homes and a couple of businesses, but they had been looted and destroyed.
Right at the present, his men were combing through the forest preserve and the Major was enjoying a moment on the grand porch of the lodge. His captain was out with the men and Ken was appreciating his surroundings. Wouldn’t this make a great place to start the new regime? He thought to himself. Good place, plenty of resources and if the map is right, damn near in the middle of the country. Just about perfect.
Thorton’s ruminations were interrupted when a very wet and nasty looking creature stumbled into view. It apparently had been hanging out in the river area and finally motivated itself to see if it could get a meal with all of the activity of the men thrashing about in the woods. Water dripped off decaying limbs and the clothing it wore was simply in tatters. From this distance, it looked like pieces of skin were coming off with the water as well.
The Major looked around to see if there was anyone nearby he could order to get rid of this creature blocking his view, but of course, everyone was out of sight.
Naturally, he thought. Oh well, gotta do some things myself. He heaved his heavy frame out of the Adirondack chair he was lounging in and walked over. The zombie, seeing potential prey, let out a gurgling moan and managed to spew water in the major’s direction, not endearing itself at all to the living man.
Ken stopped at a woodpile and selected a suitable club, not wanting to waste ammunition if he didn’t have to. The wood was for the large fireplace inside the lodge, so the logs were about four feet in length and about four inches in diameter. Ken hefted his weapon and turned back to the zombie.
The ghoul was much closer now, moving steadily on squishy feet. Thorton could see its wet progress across the parking lot and again wondered where it came from, since zombies tended to avoid water for some reason.
Moving in, Ken readied his weapon in a baseball stance and waited for the zombie to get closer. Just as it was in range, he swung the heavy club. The log whispered through the air and would likely have knocked the zombie’s head clean off if it had connected. But the zombie fell at the last second and the log passed harmlessly over its head. Overbalanced, Ken spun around and fell on his back, his log spinning away harmlessly.
The zombie, seeing its prey suddenly closer, doggedly crawled forward, grabbing Ken by the ankle and trying to bring it in for a bite.
Thorton was not about to be brought down by a single zombie. He shoved his other booted foot into the zombie’s face and held it off while he drew his weapon. He was going to have to be quick, because the second he moved his foot, the zombie was going to snap forward and bite him. Taking aim at his toes, Thorton suddenly released the ghoul’s head and fired at the same time. The heavy. 44 caliber bullet slammed into the zombie, blasting apart its head in a spray of bone, brains and zombie bits. The now fully dead ghoul slumped to the ground and Ken shook his ankle free of the dead fingers.
The sound of the shot brought several soldiers running to the scene with guns drawn, but all they saw was their leader getting to his feet with a dead, wet zombie nearby. Thorton holstered his weapon and glared at the assembled men.
“Thanks for nothing. Where the hell were you morons?” he growled, staring hard at a small man on the far right.
The man blanched at being singled out, but managed to stammer out, “We were watching the trail. Captain Tamikara ordered us to keep an eye out for roamers while he and three others checked out a survivor sighting.”
“Survivor sighting? Here?” Major Thorton turned thoughtful.
“Yes, sir. The captain got a report from a scout party that there might be a couple of survivors up on the hill overlooking the rivers,” the soldier offered.
“What’s up on the hill?”
“Haven’t been there myself, sir. I heard from another man that there was an old government building up there and that might be where they sighted the survivors.”
Thorton looked up at the landscape. “Come with me. I want to see this place. The rest of you get rid of this mess.”
“Yes, sir!” came the chorus.
Thorton and the soldier walked over to the trucks and boarded the closest one. They drove along the park’s main road, dodging deadfall trees and branches and slogging through erosion washes. Everything a normally running park would have crews to remove blocked the passage of the big vehicle.
In the end, what should have taken an easy ten minutes to the top of the hill wound up taking a half an hour. By the time they reached the top, Major Thorton was short on patience and feeling rather frustrated. He stepped out of the vehicle and forcibly shut the door behind him. The slamming door startled a series of birds who protested as they soared to the skies. He paid them no mind as he looked over the facility. It was a small building, roughly thirty feet on a side, made out of poured concrete. It had two small windows and a single steel door. A large radio tower stretched upwards and the entire building was surrounded by a barb-wire topped chain link fence. A small sign near the single gate simply read “U.S. Government Property-No Trespassing.” The area was much more overgrown than the surrounding park, suggesting that this little area had been abandoned years before the Upheaval. What its purpose was, Thorton could only guess.
The major walked around to the front of the building and looked inside. It contained what appeared to be three rooms. The first had a decaying couch and a couple of broken chairs. The second room was the galley kitchen with a small bathroom and shower along the back wall. The third room was the bunk area, long abandoned. The place was dusty but the elements had been kept out and the concrete had kept out the most persistent of creatures from getting in. The place had been cleaned out, obviously by its previous occupants and the lack of debris and other castaways usually left behind when people left places in a hurry suggested to Thorton that this place had been occupied by former military.
What the place was for and what it was doing in the middle of the state park was still a mystery. Thorton was curious, but not that curious and was about to holler for his driver when the man stuck his head around the corner of the door which led to the kitchen.
“Sir?” The soldier, named Cody Ransom, seemed excited about something.
“What is it?” Ken didn’t hide the impatience in his voice.
“You gotta see this, sir.”
“I don’t have time for games, what is it?”
“Sir, this one I have to show you.”
Ransom’s insistence got Thorton’s curiosity aroused again and that won out over impatience. He followed the private through the kitchen and into the bunk area. There were three bunks, suggesting a rotating shift of some sort between three men, doing God knows what in this empty place. That in itself wasn’t as curious as the stairwell in the back corner that led down into the ground.
The opening was simple and was easily covered with a metal door. The floor rug had been pulled back, exposing the trapdoor into the secret of the bunker.
“Well, well. What have we here?” Thorton asked out loud, peering into the darkness.
“It’s interesting, sir. Follow me.” Ransom stepped down the small spiral staircase, quickly dropping out of sight. The Major was thoroughly curious and quickly followed. His heavy bulk caused the stairway to squeak in protest. At the bottom of the stairs was a room roughly the same size as the bedroom upstairs. A table and chair sat over by the side wall and a large desk occupied the far wall. A strange metal cabinet sat next to the desk, but the equipment on top of the desk got Thorton’s attention.
In the light of Ransom’s flashlight, Ken could see a large radio transmitter. There were numerous dials and switches, a microphone for broadcasting and three sets of headphones. Everything looked in excellent condition, despite its age and Thorton could only wonder as to why it was here.
Back in the late 1940s, the US military was coming home from Europe and Asia with a lot of ponderables and what ifs regarding the security of the United States. It was decided that a communications network needed to be set up securely from coast to coast, unreliant on local power grids and manned by military personnel. The mission and purpose was to provide communication to troops and vital personnel in the event of a nuclear attack from a hostile nation. An electromagnetic pulse, generated by an atmospheric nuclear explosion, would effectively cripple a nation by knocking out its power and communications. The military had it in mind that if such an event were to happen, they would be in a better position to coordinate a counter attack if a system of communication was still active. Across the nation, small structures were built and manned in remote areas, outside the normal prying eyes of the public. Men were stationed in theses places and rotated in and out on a three month rotation. These little buildings had their own power sources and were capable of transmitting messages hundreds of miles to the next station. What was not generally revealed, however, was that these stations had a darker secret. They were designed not only to be able to send messages, but to be able to listen in on nearly every wavelength used by professional and amateur airwaves. Essentially, these places were the listening posts of the nation, keeping an ear out for subversive activity and for reporting to the authorities any activity of a suspicious nature.
These listening posts were highly useful during the Red Scare days of the 1950’s and 1960’s, but as other methods of communication developed, they began to fall by the wayside. In 1968, the program was quietly scrapped and the system was shut down. But several posts still remain and some, undisturbed.
“Well, it’s interesting, I’ll give it that, but why are we down here, looking at a pile of old equipment?” Thorton asked.
“Sir. I thought the same thing,” Ransom answered. “But then I did this.” The private reached out and flicked a large black switch on the side of the metal cabinet. The dials of the radio suddenly glowed with life and dozens of red and green lights lit up under frequency dials.
The major took a step back as he realized what he was looking at. Something he hadn’t seen in nearly two years.
“Holy shit. There’s power here.” He said quietly. “But how?”
“Sir? Remember that little dam we drove over to get to this side of the river?” Ransom asked, walking over to the stairwell and turning on the light switch. The room was bathed in a yellow glow as an ancient light bulb slowly came to life. Thorton marveled at the bulb as Ransom continued. “I would guess that little dam has been providing power to this little station since they built it and no one ever figured out where the generators were.”
“Freaking amazing,” said the major. “Well, let’s see what this thing can do.”
“Yes, sir,” said Private Ransom, sitting down at the desk and placing the headphones over his ears. He sat there for a few minutes, adjusting a few knobs and dials. After a about ten minutes, Ransom took the headphones off and looked up at the major.
“There’s a lot of chatter out there, sir, more than I thought there would be,” Ransom said.
“Let me hear.” Thorton took the headphones and put them on. Over the airwaves, he could hear dozens of people talking to each other, mostly discussing mundane things like planting food and foraging for supplies. Some talked about trying to set out for the cities for stuff, others talking about how bad the zombies seemed to be in their area. On other channels, he overheard some people who were getting desperate, hoping someone would come to the rescue as zombies broke down their defenses. He chuckled at that, then looked over at the panel. There was a “Transmit” switch and he pointed to it as he took off the headphones.
“Think these people would hear me if I hit that switch?” Major Thorton asked his private.
Ransom shrugged. “Can’t see why not. If we can hear them, I imagine this place was set up to transmit as well and have the power to do so. How are these people talking to each other, anyway?”
Ken gave a wry smile. “If I had to guess, many of them are talking on CB radios, with a few short waves thrown in for luck. This little device seems capable of sending a message out to all of them, although I sure couldn’t tell you how.” He ran a large hand over the large black box humming quietly. “Interesting. I will have to see how this can be of use to us. For now, monitor these broadcasts and I’ll get a report from you later.”
“Yes, sir. Oh, by the way, sir?” Ransom asked.
“What is it?”
“Could you see if the rest of the place has power? My flashlight batteries are at half at best.”
Thorton laughed. “Sure thing.” He walked over to the stairwell and ran his hand along the wall. Sure enough, there was a light switch and not really thinking anything was going to happen, he flicked the switch. An old bulb weakly came to life, but it was enough to light the room and both he and the private stared at it for a moment before Thorton went back upstairs.
In the small living area, Thorton looked around and figured this would be a very useful system to have in place, if he could find out where the other stations were. Chances were pretty slim they would be untouched like this one, but it was possible. The possibilities were pretty encouraging, but he didn’t have the manpower at present. Still, it was helpful to know there was a communication network available.
Outside the small bunker, Ken walked back to the road and stretched his legs a little, looking around at the forest and listening to the small sounds that nature generously provided. Insects were making their presence known and in the distance, Thorton could hear a couple of squirrels chattering away as they bounced around from tree to tree. It was probably April, but no one would be sure for a while. Hard to believe they had been on the road for nearly a month and likely had a month more to go, but overall, their progress had been pretty good.
Major Thorton was enjoying the quiet when he began to hear the sound of a truck laboring up the road. He was pretty sure any vehicles nearby belonged to him, so he casually leaned up against the building and waited for the truck to arrive.
It didn’t take long. A few minutes after he had leaned on the wall, one of the trucks came around the bend and up to the top of the hill. Ken could see his captain in the passenger seat and was amused when he saw the puzzled look on Tamikara’s face. The truck swung into the small area and parked next to the one already there. The captain swung out of the cab and walked over to Thorton.
“What are you doing up here?” he asked without a salute or so much as a ‘sir’.
Thorton’s face flickered with irritation, but he hid it well, tucking it away for future use. “Discovering a lot more useful things than you, I’d wager,” Ken said, enjoying the not-well-hidden flash of anger on Ted’s normally impassive face. Ken had been suspecting for a while that his captain was on the verge of a break and he was going to have to deal with that soon, before he managed to recruit others to his side. As it was, he had no idea if Tamikara had been recruiting all along.
The captain shrugged. “Possibly. But you might want to hear what I have found out from one of our guests.”
Thorton’s eyebrows raised. “You caught a couple? How interesting. Let’s see.”
They walked over to the back of the truck and flipped over the edge of the cover. Two of the patrol soldiers got out and stepped aside for the two young men who jumped out afterwards. They were dressed in casual clothing, jeans and sweatshirts and each carried a heavy backpack. Both were wearing belts that had knives and guns, but they were careful to keep their hands away from their weapons. Both of them looked around and the taller of the two, a lanky kid with longish brown hair, roughly six feet in height, addressed Major Thorton.
“I take it you’re in charge,” he said.
Ken took a moment to answer. The kid looked capable and he held himself in a way that indicated possible flight if the opportunity presented itself. Thorton stepped closer, looking down at the kid, who returned his look without fear. You will be fun to break, Ken thought to himself. He looked over at the other kid, who seemed to be of a similar age, although not as sure of himself. He was shorter than the first and had longish, dirty-blonde hair. He kept looking around at the assembled soldiers, eyeing their weapons and looking back the way they had come. A runner if he had ever seen one.
“My name is Major Ken Thorton. You have already met my captain, Ted Tamikara. You and your friend will come in out of the sun and explain what you are doing here and where you came from. I have a lot of questions you will need to answer.” Ken believed in establishing relationships early and determining who was in charge. He noted as he said this last there was a small frown on the taller kid’s face. Typical, Thorton thought, as he went back to the door of the building.
Tamikara was right behind him and looked around as they entered the small building. “What is this place?” he asked.
“Later. I want to talk to our friends, first,” Ken said. He motioned to the pair to sit on the aged sofa while he and Tamikara remained standing. He signaled for the other soldiers to wait outside.
“So let’s begin with you.” Thorton looked down at the blonde kid. “What’s your story?”
The kid looked over at his companion, then looked back to the major. “Not much to tell. We’ve been on the road for a while, coming south from the suburbs of Chicago, avoiding the dead and living off the land. Our car crapped out about a week ago and we managed to find a small bass boat which has been taking us down the river. We were looking for some supplies when your men found us. That’s it.”
Thorton digested this for a moment, then said, “Okay, you’re useless. Outside.”
“W-What?” The blonde stammered.
“I hate repeating myself. Go outside. Your information is useless,” the major motioned for the kid to leave and he stood up slowly, looking back at his companion. His friend shrugged and the blonde went outside. He was immediately grabbed by the soldiers and secured, his cries shut off by a sharp punch to the face. He slumped and was trussed up to a tree, just within sight of the big window in the building. His friend jumped to his feet in protest, but kept silent as Tamikara smoothly drew his Browning Hi-Power and aimed it at his head.
Thorton didn’t even bother to look outside, as he already knew what was happening. He affected a bored look and addressed the other kid.
“What’s your story?” he asked in exactly the same way he had asked earlier. The brown haired kid sat sullenly, but realized he was a prisoner much more quickly than his companion, who still slumped against the tree he was tied to.
“We came from a community that had established itself along the canal near the outskirts of Chicago. About a year and a half ago, maybe more, a guy had banded a bunch of people together and they set up a new town, taking it over from the zombies. There’s a bunch of people there now and they are all trained to kill zombies if they need to. Everyone has a weapon and everyone knows how to use it. There are crops for food and we all pitch in to work. About a year ago, the same guy went south to some other towns that had survived and were in trouble. Rumor is he took on about thousand zombies on his own, but I ain’t sure about that. He went to one of the state centers to see what happened to the military and the government.”
Thorton looked over at Tamikara. “Sounds like a real bad-ass.” he chuckled.
The kid spoke up. “You have no idea. He could easily take anyone you have to offer and the crew he runs with are first rate killers.”
Ken’s pride took a hit. “I imagine I could deal with him if I had to.”
“Pray you never have to. He and his crew ran through my gang like we weren’t even there. If it wasn’t for the fact he was in a hurry, he probably would have killed us all.”
“Why was he in a hurry? What is his name?” Tamikara asked, intrigued by this mystery man.
The kid looked them both in the eyes. “His name is John Talon and he was in a rush to stop you.”
“What are you talking about?” growled Thorton.
“John knows what you are trying to do. One of your prisoners escaped last winter and made it to where John has his home. He talked to John and John went and talked to the community he set up and they decided he and his crew should try and stop you.” The kid was talking freely now, seeing his friend still slumped over at the tree.
“Stop us from doing what?” The major was concerned now, hearing that a prisoner had escaped so long ago.
“Taking the Constitution,” came the reply.
The admission was like an icy punch in the gut. If someone knew what he was doing, he was going to have to step up his plans, especially if it came to a race to the capital with a very capable individual. If this person was allowed to talk to other communities, it would take some force to bring them into line. He was going to have to be creative.
A notion occurred to Ken and the more he mulled it over, the better he liked it. He turned his attention back to the kid.
“You said John went to the community he had started. He doesn’t live there?” Ken asked.
“No,” the youth answered. “He and his friends found a place in Utica, on the river. Place called Starved Rock. His wife and his kid live there. “Rumor has it he managed to save his son from the Upheaval and kept him alive through everything else. His first wife died and his second is one he met when he had saved a bunch of people in a school or something.”
Ken smiled. Too perfect, he thought. Exactly the motivation to come home. He looked over at Tamikara and smiled. “Better and better. Two problems solved.”
Ted looked curious but kept his attention on the kid. He wasn’t sure what was going on in Ken’s mind, but he was sure he was not going to like it.
“How did you get here? Your car stopped working, I believe you friend said.”
The kid’s eyes flickered to his still unconscious friend tied to the tree. “We hit the river and managed to find a boat. We were working our way down river and had just loaded up on fuel and supplies when we ran into you.”
“Lucky me,” said Thorton, meaning every word. “By the way, we never got your name.”
“Dan. Dan Winters.”
“Well, Dan. You’ve been much more helpful than your friend, although I am curious as to why you seem to be choosing to sell out your so-called savior and friend.” The Major said.
“He’s not my friend, but I respect what he’s been able to do. Fact is, we were going to try and head back to see if we could rejoin the community,” Dan said, starting to regret what he had spilled so far.
“Well, we’ll see about that. You have given me a lot of useful information, especially on how to deal with your benefactor and I am grateful to hear of where he lives and all, but I do have a concern over your loyalties. I will need to talk to my-HEY!” Thorton yelled as the coffee table suddenly flew up into his and Ted’s faces.
Winters wasted no time. When he realized he had spoken too much to avoid the same fate as his friend, he came to the conclusion he had just condemned John and his family to these renegades. When the Major’s attention was low, he had flipped the table up and bolted out the door, slipping around the corner and running flat out for the woods. The soldiers holding his friend had no time to react as he ran past and dove into the trees.
Thorton and Tamikara ran from the building and quickly looked around. Ted spoke first to the soldiers.
“Find him! Eliminate him! Go!” he shouted. The men ran off, leaving the two who were guarding the prisoner.
Thorton addressed them. “Take him down to the river and up the road until you spot a zombie. Cut his tendons and leave him to get eaten. Go.”
The men nodded and cut down the groggy prisoner, dumping him into the back of the truck and driving off on their deadly mission.
Tamikara and Thorton listened to the sounds of pursuit as they watched the truck pull away. The major spoke first.
“We need to talk about how this harms us. Let’s get back to the lodge,” he said.
Tamikara nodded. “What about the men?”
Ken waved a hand dismissively. “They know to come back successful or not at all. That kid’s a dead man. Besides, they know where the lodge is and I don’t feel like waiting.”
The two climbed back aboard the truck and lumbered away, forgetting about Private Ransom, who was about to stumble on some very interesting information.
Back at the lodge, Ken talked to Ted privately.
“I want you to take ten men and head north. I want you to find this ‘Starved Rock’ and kill everyone there. From there, I want you to head to this community Dan was talking about. Take over and wait for me to get back from DC. From what I have heard, this sounds almost too good to be true.” Ken settled into a chair at a table in the main room. He kept his right hand in his lap, near his holster, unsure of what his captain might do in response.
Tamikara considered it and realized there was an opportunity for him to supplant Thorton once and for all. Let the fool go after the Constitution. If he gets it, he can be shot as soon as he shows his big head in Illinois.
Ted smiled. “Of course. Not a problem. I’ll select the men and we’ll be off in the morning.”
Thorton smiled back. He knew Ted would take men that might be more loyal to the captain than the major and that suited him just fine. He then turned serious. “Don’t fail in this, Ted. I need that John Talon out of the way, if he’s as serious as that idiot said.”
The captain shook his head. “How hard could it be?” he asked.