was in front and shot them both.
We were in a
wide hallway with several closed doors. Ahead I could see that it opened into
a large space filled with cubicles. A long, chest high counter ran the width
of the space, restricting access from the public area just inside the glass
doors that were covered with the metal shutters.
I tried the
knob on the first room we came to, finding it locked. This was a wooden door
with a standard commercial handle and I blasted it free with a burst from my
rifle. Kicking it open, I scanned but the space wasn’t occupied. It was only a
storage closet.
We gained
access to the next room in the same manner, finding the station’s armory. A row
of M4 rifles lined one wall. Shotguns, pistols and a couple of bolt-action
sniper rifles were racked on the other. A large cabinet occupied the wall
farthest from the door and I stepped in and pulled it open. It was stuffed
full of ammo. Lots of pistol and shotgun, but there were several thousand
rounds of 5.56 mm for the rifles. I’d come back for it.
The next
room held an infected male and a body. It looked like the station commander’s
office. I shot the male and pulled the door closed.
Closest to
the cubicles was a large room with tables and chairs arranged to face a small,
tabletop podium. Most likely a training and briefing room. It was vacant.
Behind the table was a small closet and I pulled it open carefully, standing
well back with my rifle up. But there weren’t any infected, only a pegboard
with several sets of keys hanging on it. Bingo!
I grabbed
all the keys and shoved them into the empty pouches on my vest that normally
held grenades. Tucked in the far corner of the closet was a lightweight,
wheeled hand truck. It was folded up and probably used to more easily move
boxes of files. I grabbed it and carried it out to the hall where Crawford was
waiting for me.
On our way
back to the jail section I stopped and checked all of the dead cops, looking
for keys. I found several sets and discarded the ones that were obviously for
personal vehicles. Pausing at the armory I unfolded the hand truck and loaded
it down with five cases of rifle ammo, then balanced three of the rifles on
top. You can never have too much ammo or be too well armed.
Moving back
through the damaged door I tugged the cart over the debris on the floor, then
turned and headed for where Katie, Dog and Martinez waited. Dog was happy to
see me, giving the stack of loot a good sniff.
“Seeing you
walking in with enough guns and ammo to start a small war brings back
memories,” Katie said from the far side of the room. I just shook my head.
“There’s
someone alive back there,” Crawford said, bringing surprised looks to both
women.
“How?”
Martinez asked. “I thought enough time had passed that if you weren’t vaccinated
you would have turned.”
“Me, too,” I
said, parking the cart by the exit. “We’re going to go take a look.”
“Careful,”
Katie said.
I nodded and
led the way back toward the cells. The man had stopped calling out and for a
moment I wondered if we had imagined it, then dismissed that thought as
ridiculous. Maybe one of us, but not both.
Stepping
through the last door we stopped next to the iron stairs that led to the second
level. Everything looked the same, but the infected locked in the cells were
agitated. Well, if there had been any loose they would have homed in on the
yelling and we’d be able to see them.
“Hello?” I
raised my voice.
“Hello! Up
here! Help me!” I looked up at the second level and could see a frantically
waving arm sticking out between the bars of a cell at the far corner.
The Colonel
and I slowly climbed the stairs, metal treads ringing under the soles of our
boots. When the man heard us on the steps he stopped waving his arm and fell
quiet. The infected didn’t, their hisses and moans sending chills down my
spine.
At
We were in a
wide hallway with several closed doors. Ahead I could see that it opened into
a large space filled with cubicles. A long, chest high counter ran the width
of the space, restricting access from the public area just inside the glass
doors that were covered with the metal shutters.
I tried the
knob on the first room we came to, finding it locked. This was a wooden door
with a standard commercial handle and I blasted it free with a burst from my
rifle. Kicking it open, I scanned but the space wasn’t occupied. It was only a
storage closet.
We gained
access to the next room in the same manner, finding the station’s armory. A row
of M4 rifles lined one wall. Shotguns, pistols and a couple of bolt-action
sniper rifles were racked on the other. A large cabinet occupied the wall
farthest from the door and I stepped in and pulled it open. It was stuffed
full of ammo. Lots of pistol and shotgun, but there were several thousand
rounds of 5.56 mm for the rifles. I’d come back for it.
The next
room held an infected male and a body. It looked like the station commander’s
office. I shot the male and pulled the door closed.
Closest to
the cubicles was a large room with tables and chairs arranged to face a small,
tabletop podium. Most likely a training and briefing room. It was vacant.
Behind the table was a small closet and I pulled it open carefully, standing
well back with my rifle up. But there weren’t any infected, only a pegboard
with several sets of keys hanging on it. Bingo!
I grabbed
all the keys and shoved them into the empty pouches on my vest that normally
held grenades. Tucked in the far corner of the closet was a lightweight,
wheeled hand truck. It was folded up and probably used to more easily move
boxes of files. I grabbed it and carried it out to the hall where Crawford was
waiting for me.
On our way
back to the jail section I stopped and checked all of the dead cops, looking
for keys. I found several sets and discarded the ones that were obviously for
personal vehicles. Pausing at the armory I unfolded the hand truck and loaded
it down with five cases of rifle ammo, then balanced three of the rifles on
top. You can never have too much ammo or be too well armed.
Moving back
through the damaged door I tugged the cart over the debris on the floor, then
turned and headed for where Katie, Dog and Martinez waited. Dog was happy to
see me, giving the stack of loot a good sniff.
“Seeing you
walking in with enough guns and ammo to start a small war brings back
memories,” Katie said from the far side of the room. I just shook my head.
“There’s
someone alive back there,” Crawford said, bringing surprised looks to both
women.
“How?”
Martinez asked. “I thought enough time had passed that if you weren’t vaccinated
you would have turned.”
“Me, too,” I
said, parking the cart by the exit. “We’re going to go take a look.”
“Careful,”
Katie said.
I nodded and
led the way back toward the cells. The man had stopped calling out and for a
moment I wondered if we had imagined it, then dismissed that thought as
ridiculous. Maybe one of us, but not both.
Stepping
through the last door we stopped next to the iron stairs that led to the second
level. Everything looked the same, but the infected locked in the cells were
agitated. Well, if there had been any loose they would have homed in on the
yelling and we’d be able to see them.
“Hello?” I
raised my voice.
“Hello! Up
here! Help me!” I looked up at the second level and could see a frantically
waving arm sticking out between the bars of a cell at the far corner.
The Colonel
and I slowly climbed the stairs, metal treads ringing under the soles of our
boots. When the man heard us on the steps he stopped waving his arm and fell
quiet. The infected didn’t, their hisses and moans sending chills down my
spine.
At
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