The bar jerked in my hand and I fell forward, catching myself on the stud. One of the zombies had grasped the crowbar and jerked it down as I pulled it up.
“Not bloody likely.” I growled, lifting the bar up and shoving it forward, catching the zombie in the eye and impaling it neatly. The zombie fell back, the bar making a nasty squelching sound as it exited the Z’s skull. I stood up and looked down at the group of faces staring up at me, putrid faces and decaying limbs reaching up. I reached into my pack and retrieved my kerosene bottle. Squeezing a line of fluid down over their faces and into the box of magazines, I sprayed over the studs and on the walls I could reach. I also squeezed a little on the ends of my crowbar.
I pulled out a Strike-Anywhere match and used the grasping grooves of my SIG to light it. Tossing the match inside, I stepped back as the flames erupted and started their work. I lit both ends of my crowbar, and holding it by the middle, I wandered over to Trevor while the house behind me started to smolder and smoke.
Trevor watched me approach with my flaming bar and smiled wryly. “You planning on joining a luau soon?”
I grinned. “I look lousy in a grass skirt and a coconut bra. You okay?”
Trevor nodded. “Landed on a nail. I’ll probably die of infection.”
I turned serious. “All the same, you’re quarantined for three days. With that many zombies in that basement, one of them might have stepped on it, too.”
Trevor turned ashen. “Didn’t think of that. Oh God…”
“Just a precaution. Try not to think about it.”
Trevor looked down. “John, if the worst happens, could you…?”
Knowing what he meant, I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah.”
We finished up and headed back to the regroup point. I filled in the rest of the team and there was a lot of concern expressed for Trevor, but a lot of hope as well. He should be okay, but if he turned, it was my job to put him down.
We moved through subdivision after subdivision, through office building and school. We killed the zombies where we found them, fought them if needed. We cleared more area than would have been possible a year ago and managed to safeguard more of the surrounding area. We had supplies to spare and were well-situated to not only survive the storm, but to actually start living as well.
35
Six weeks after the start of the offensive, the weather began to get warmer. I called a halt to offensive operations and we went back to our homes. I spent a week with my brother and made sure he and his were taken care of. He hadn’t taken to the training as well as I had hoped, but he was a natural at organization, so he was invaluable with all of the supplies and materials our push was bringing in. I invited him and his family back out to Starved Rock, but they wanted nothing to do with that place.
Mike had nothing but praise for me and what I had done. He said he had never been more proud to be related to me than he was now. I didn’t know what to say. I just always did what needed to be done.
Reports came in from the other towns and they all had success stories. We did lose several to the zombies, but I would have been stunned if it had been otherwise. Trevor got a nasty infection from the nail, but recovered in time to take part in the last three weeks of the operation.
Charlie, Tommy and I were on the boat, rolling back to Starved Rock. I hadn’t seen my son and new wife in two months and that was two months too long. We had laden the boat with supplies and were looking forward to planting some crops and making a serious go of our land. Sarah and Rebecca and Angela had gone to one of the other towns and learned how to can food for storage.
As we pulled into our little cove at Starved Rock, I felt a sense of home I hadn’t felt in a long time. We didn’t bother unloading supplies right away, we just headed to the lodge, each of us looking forward to our reunions.
Three weeks later, I stood on the patio, holding Jake and looking over the trees of the park, noting the emergence of a green haze which marked the beginning of spring and new growth. Jake was walking all over the place and babbling constantly. He loved his new home and loved the toys I had brought back.
Several days later, I was clearing out the Visitor’s Center when a heavily laden truck pulled into the parking lot. I stepped out onto the sidewalk, keeping a hand near my ever-present SIG. The truck door opened and the driver got out. I dropped my hand as Duncan walked over to me.
“Your orders have been carried out, sir. Request permission to rest,” Duncan said as he saluted me.
I wrapped Duncan up in a bear hug and lifted him off his feet. As I put him down, I shook his hand and reminded him of what I told him a while ago. “You’re always welcome where I live. C’mon up to the lodge. Charlie and Tommy will be glad to see you, old son.” We walked up to the lodge, where Duncan was greeted like the long lost prodigal.
The summer breezes ran lazily over the treetops as the sun dipped into the horizon. Scarlet rays turned the green leaves crimson and the purple clouds raced each other to the far side of the world. Sarah moved up close to give me a hug and kiss.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?” I asked.
“Saving us all.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t do anything special.”
Sarah took my face in her hands and looked deeply into my eyes. “You reminded us that we were alive once and gave us the will to live again. Don’t ever deny that because that is what you did. Everyone knows it and you should too.”
I looked down. “I lost a lot of people too.”
Sarah hugged me. “You never worried about ghosts before, why bother now? It was never your fault. You did what you could.”
She was right. We were alive and we were living. It was the best revenge we could have against a world gone dead.
As I closed my eyes and breathed Sarah in, I heard a far-off moan carried on the evening breeze. I had managed to get a lot done, but there was more work to do. I still had a promise to keep and we had more to take back.
I made another promise that day. The white flags of the dead might be still out there, but they were no longer a symbol of surrender. They were a rallying cry, to take back what we had lost and reclaim our lives and land. They had tried their best and failed.
We were taking it back. One ragged step at a time, but we were taking it all back.
I looked in and watched Jake play on the floor of the lodge. I thought about his mother, and how far we had come in such a short time. Across the river, next to the abandoned school, I saw a ragged flag flutter in the wind. I knew what I had to do for my son, what I needed to do for everyone still alive, still struggling to keep the monsters away.
I had to step up, rip the country away from the rotted fingers of the virus, and spit in the eye of the infected who haunted the darkness.
I had to take it back.