The Fall of Bangor (Part 6)

Posted on Thu Feb 29th, 2024 @ 7:13pm by Hale Stratton [Major, United States Army] & Ethan Thompson & Alonzo Blazevic & Vienna Quinn & René Rouen & Reuben Baptiste & Victoire Olaffson [Lieutenant, United States Navy] & Emma Lynn Starsky

2,915 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Bangor or Bust
Location: Safe Zone, Bangor, Maine
Timeline: 4 September 2010 - 06:45 p.m.

At Vic and Emma's Place

She wasn't hard to find. Not really. Not when you know what they do. Runners. Timid little mice scurrying for safety. And where was safety to be found? Hmm? In Bangor of course within the sheltering arms of the military. But not so much shelter. Not really. Not when they, those useful tools of this apocalypse, were all shuffling their way toward the city, lured there by noise and lights and well, maybe, just maybe, the occasional body.

Bloody little breadcrumbs for the faithful to find.

Oh, Whistler thought, as he slipped down a side alley, pausing in the shadows, shoulder against the brick wall of someone's former pride and joy, what a marvelous time to be alive.

"Look out, little mouse," he whispered into the welcome embrace of the night. "Look out …"

René made a slow walk around the house and checked the doors and windows, looking for signs of tampering. He returned to the front porch and stood there looking both ways down the street. The street was deserted and few of the houses appeared occupied. The last few days had seen a steady exodus from Bangor. He looked towards the East. Somewhere in that direction was his home country and his family. He wondered if they were safe. He had not spoken to them since before all this had started. He wanted go home, but a part of him wanted to stay. He was about knock on the door to be let back in, but paused.

He had found a hiding spot to watch. To learn. To observe. Moose and Leo, who were not nearly as patient as he, were sniffing around other houses in the area. Seeing who was still at home and who had already rabbited out of the city.

And while hiding was good, logical even, following, well, that was better. Needful sometimes. Especially when the hunger was upon him. He crept noiselessly behind. The night was dark. The night was his friend. His world. Especially a night like tonight when there was little to be seen by the light of a waning moon but the man (or was that a boy masquerading as a man) still checked the doors and windows. He thought it was cute. He thought it was interesting. Yes indeed. Wouldn't save the little mouse. Maybe not the boy man either.

Decisions, decisions.

He whistled softly. Not a hunting call. Not yet. No, not yet. Just a low sound, easily dismissed as something else, a reminder that the little mouse and the little man were maybe not so safe as they thought.

Renè glanced about. He even took on step down off the porch. He paused and finally shrugged. "Probably just the wind." He turned and remounted the porch to give three, then two knocks on the front door.

His grin was sly and thoughtful as he slipped away, back into the night's embrace. A low whistle followed him, a whistle that ended in a whispered chuckle. He did love a challenge.

Outside of the Hospital Tent

Vic strode out with a quickness that was familiar to every member of the military and offered the scrap of paper to Hale and Reuben. “Here’s our lead…. Ms. Quinn went off alone without waiting for a team to back her up and with the conditions even here in the ‘Safe Zone’ I can almost guarantee you that she is in trouble where ever this has led her.”

Hale glanced at the address and shook his head. "Well, that's not good," he said. "I think we'd better hurry. If I'm right, this is not somewhere she should be no matter who's hurt."

Reuben looked about then stated, "Well let's get this on the road. Foods awaiting and an there's a rescue to get on the way. Want me to lead?"

"Sure," Hale said. "If I'm remembering correctly, this place is in a cul-de-sac right near the barricade. All of the houses are supposed to be empty but we've been getting reports of activity where there shouldn't be any."

Reuben nodded and adjusted his glasses. He was glad to have paid for the special coatings. His vision was not quite 20/20 but a hell of a lot better with the coatings than without. He grabbed his improvised spear and held it in a fixed bayonet position and started out, Kenny beside him sniffing the air and ears twitching for sounds.

Vic nodded and then sighed; pulling out the original sketch from Emma and showing it to them real quick. “We need to be aware that we might run into this one…. She won’t want to explain it but this is the man that brought us Emma…. Or rather that caused her condition that brought her to us.”

She touched her SIG reassuring herself of its presence and then pulled her combat knife out before shaking her head. “I need a larger weapon at some point… I’m going to get bitten relying on this thing alone. Let’s go get ‘er done.”

"That's a good idea," Hale said. "And I'm not sure that we'll be able to count on a steady supply of ammunition." The walk from where they were across the zone took about a half hour and everywhere Hale looked there were less. Less people. Less lights shining in windows. Less patrols on the street. Like Vic, he kept his knife out and his head on the swivel. He wasn't expecting the not-so-dead but other dangers had been cropping up.

As they approached the cul-de-sac, he signaled the others to stop and crouched, out of sight, behind an oversized van. No lights from the building which meant the thugs had probably left but there was a low moan coming toward them from the largest building. "That's where we're headed," he said quietly pointing to a two-story with a doubled front door and a circular drive.

Reuben studied the building and frowned, close quarter combat. Looking back at Hale he asked, "So I have a question sir, regarding the sketched individual; is he an eliminate with extreme prejudice or a snatch, grab and bag?" He then looked back at the building and the moaning. With a sigh he then asked, "Close quarter fighting, who's breach? right and left?"

"We're looking for Mrs. Quinn, she's a nurse from the hospital, so, hopefully, this is a rescue. You two take the front and I'll go around the back," Hale said. "If they're dead, make 'em more so and if its the thieves, then disarm and secure but if they shoot at you, you shoot right back."

“The one from the Sketch…. If we run into him….” Vic thought for a moment. “We don’t have facilities to take a prisoner and I don’t know who we would turn him into…. Might be better to eliminate” she tapped her own chest and indicated the front door. “Unless you and your pup want to do it, Master Sergeant I’ll take breach and you two can follow me in. Be careful on your way in Hale….”

Hale nodded, more than a little disturbed by Vic's comments, but shoved it aside for later consideration. He slipped into a familiar mindset, focused on the job at hand, and picked his way around the side of the house, where the windows had all been boarded up, toward the back of the house. No light sources visible but he could hear something.

Moan. Bump. Moan. Bump.

He pulled out his knife. The fenced yard was empty save for a rusting swing set and a pile of empty boxes but he checked anyway, making sure that the gate was locked before heading up the short set of stairs to the back door. The screen had been torn out and the window was broken making it easy for someone to reach through and unlock the door.

Hale tested the knob and was relieved that it was unlocked. The soft, guttural moan was louder now. Better that he didn't have to stick his hand through. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, readying himself to breach.

Vic positioned herself against the front door, pressing her ear to it for a moment and testing the knob to find it unlocked as well. She could hear the guttural moaning through the door and she gripped her knife tighter, undoing the straps on her holster so that she could draw her SIG more readily.

Hale opened the rear door and stepped back; sure enough, one of the not-dead-enough had been secured to one of the cabinets. She had been young, wearing some sort of leggings, an oversized sweatshirt, and slippers; what was left of her had been trying to pull free. She turned when she saw Hale. Arms outstretched, her movements became more purposeful.

Moving as quietly as he could, Hale slipped inside and dispatched her to what he hoped would be her final rest. Sobering thought that. Could they come back more than once?

He shook off the thought as he wiped his blade clean on her sweatshirt, pulled out an LED flashlight, and made a quick search of the kitchen. No food in the cabinets and everything in the fridge had gone bad. Nodding to himself, he moved quietly through the arch into a small dining room. No signs of recent habitation here either as far as he could see. No candles. No supplies. Still, the windows were boarded from the inside so clearly someone had been here.

Vic opened the door to the front, rushing in and putting down a pair of the risen that were secured to the bannisters at the base of the stairs and then paused, glancing about the room to get her bearings and listen to her surroundings.

An arch on the other side of the dining room led into what looked like the living room. The idea of that poor woman tethered in the kitchen stayed with him. Trap for the unwary? Early warning system? He stayed where he was for a moment, studying the room, and noticed how the sideboard was angled slightly and sitting away from the wall. He walked over and found a large cache of supplies tucked behind it, out of sight. He crouched beside the pile and opened one of the boxes with the tip of his knife. And as he opened a couple more his expression turned to disgust. Supplies.

He rose slowly, a thoughtful look on his face, and stopped in the doorway to the living room where he saw Vic dispatching a pair that had been tethered to a staircase. So, he thought, if the regular entrances weren't being used, how did they get in? Assuming they weren't climbing trees, a window would make sense and so, Hale checked each window in turn and found one where the boards were actually hinged on one side making for easy access. And now it was making sense.

Well, as much sense as stealing when you can get anything you need by asking did. Hale entered the living room and gestured toward the stairs. Stepping around the bodies, he directed the beam of the flashlight on the stairs and found, about halfway up, a canvas messenger bag, with a red cross emblem on the flap. He gestured toward the bag and then toward the upper level.

Reuben took a combat crouching spot opposite the way the door would open and waited for Vic to open the door. He was prepared to rush in as soon as she opened the door. He hated breaching and close quarter combat. To damn many variables and not enough time to sort out the info. With a barely audible whisper he gave Kenny a combat command “Aparailuak bakarrik, ahorik gabe {Tackle only, no mouth}”. When Vic opened the door, she quickly flew in, Reuben counted to three and the went in after her, with Kenny. He quickly assessed the room; Vic had taken down two of the infected. He then seen a shadow move into the arch way and prepared to attack, if necessary, Kenny however was calm. He then realized it was Hale. Hale motioned to the stairs, Reuben nodded and knew the main floor was clear. Reuben looked at Kenny “Bilatu, kosk egin gabe, tackleatu {Search, no bite, tackle}” with the commands given Kenny ran up the steps as silent as his ancestor, the wolf, when on a hunt. Reuben began his ascent shoulder to the wall and each step near the wall and carefully placed.

Back at Hale and Alzono's Place

Ethan had found a book. Unused and sitting underneath a pile of magazines and graphic novels, it was the kind of book that he found most interesting. Endurance, it was called, about Shackleton's incredible, real-life journey to Antarctica. He hadn't gotten far into it but he vowed to take it with him. Who knew when he'd find something worth reading again soon.

He came down the stairs and jumped the last two, landing lightly on his feet. He threw his hands in the air, mimicking an Olympic gymnast, and then went hunting for Alonzo. In the short time they'd all been together, Hale had made it clear what their, his and Hale's, responsibilities were in the kitchen -- basically anything Alonzo says and of course, cleaning up afterwards.

"Eight" said Alonzo. If he had a judging card, he would have raised it. "Hey Ethan."

"Hey," he said, "as he tracked Alonzo down in the kitchen, the book still in his hand. "Where is everyone? I thought we were having dinner?"

Alonzo didn't want to worry Ethan. "They went out to take care of a few things, but between us? That just means more food for us." He smiled at Erhan.

"Excellent," Ethan said. "I'm starving." In the old days, before the world fell apart, doing things meant errands. Shopping. Getting gas. Taking out the trash. Now, it meant something else and he knew, from the very little that Hale let slip, that was going outside the zone all the time to gather supplies and find survivors. "Hope he's alright."

Alonzo sighed softly. He looked at Ethan and smiled briefly. He wanted to say something to Ethan, something personal about Hale and everything, but it didn't feel right. In a way, Alonzo suspected Ethan already knew. "Me too. Me too. It's Hale though. If anyone can get themselves back to us safely, it's him."

Back at Vic' Place

Vienna had heard the knock on the door, the pattern of knocks René had said. Getting up from her seat to answer the door, she smiled as she opened it for him. "Is everything okay?"

René took a half step into the house and paused for a moment to peer out onto the darkened street. He turned back to Vienna and nodded with a slight smile. "Of course. Just thought I'd heard something. Just the wind though. Nothing to worry about." He placed a hand on Vienna’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

Vienna offered a smile, René had a way of making her feel better. “I wonder if they’ve any news on mum yet?” She gave René a worried look, she’d only just found her mother again she didn’t want to lose her.

The shoulder squeeze turned into a warm hug. "I'm sure that Commandant Stratton and the others will find your mere and they will all be back with us soon." He released the hug after a moment. "Let's check on Emma."

Vienna had needed that hug more than René knew, she nodded as he let her go grateful that René was there for her. If anything she owed him an apology, when her parents had suggested taking in an exchange student she hadn't liked the idea at all, but now she was more than grateful that they had.

René ensured the door was locked back up before stepping back into the living room. He gave Emma a nod. "All secure. How are you doing?" His face held an expression of genuine concern.

Emma, who had looked up when the door opened, nodded before returning to her drawing. Harder to do by candlelight and better, she thought, to stop now or run the risk of ruining it. She closed her sketchbook and started to set it down to one side then stopped. If I have to run, she thought, I could lose all of this. Not a new pattern really. Running was something life had taught her. She slipped out of the room, headed for the bedroom that Vic had given over for her use.

René sighed as he took a seat on the couch. Less than two weeks since end of the world had begun. He was feeling overwhelmed by everything. He wanted to know how his family was doing, but there was no way for him to contact them.

Mr. Quinn was dead, apparently by his own hand to prevent coming back as one of the Soulless. Mrs. Quinn had gone on an errand of mercy to treat reported injured, but contact had been lost. He had promised to get Vienna back to her family, but Fate was being cruel. How was he going to protect Vienna from what this new world was becoming. Could he even do it.

 

RSS Feed