“Thank you,” she waved him off with a hint of amusement as he hurried away. As she made her way across the compound, the distant clanging of metal gates and the buzzing of the generators were already bringing on a migraine. Life had been so comfortable back at the barracks in Atlanta. But this? Growing up, the army housing had always been more than comfortable. But now? This was something else—afew hangars, a shoddy perimeter fence that looked like it was about to collapse, and a crappy makeshift mess hall.
What a shithole.
Once a soldier on the front lines, slowly but steadily following in her father’s footsteps and getting promoted faster than she ever thought possible, she had traded the relative safety of organized war for… What would she even call this? Community defense? Is that what it was? Were they even a community? After the virus had started to take hold, and people were dropping like flies, it took time for her to adjust and find her footing in her current role, which required not only strength but a deep understanding of human nature. And she just wasn’t sure she understood people anymore. She was supposed to be equipped to deal with whatever came her way. But she wasn’t all that sure she could deal with much at all.
As she climbed the steps to Hangar 2 with its view over the eastern fence, a strategic vantage point that allowed her to scan the surrounding landscape for potential threats, Alex took a deep breath before letting out a long sigh. From here, she could see beyond the perimeter of the army training ground—a desolate expanse dotted with abandoned vehicles and gnarly-looking trees. The view felt daunting. It always did. But at least in here she was in control. Kind of.
“Major Bebbington.” Sergeant Henry approached, his familiar grizzled features breaking into a wide grin. They had been through enough together recently to trust each other implicitly.
“Morning, Sergeant. Wow. Does it not sound odd to you? Calling ourselves sergeant and major like this? I can’t get used to it. It sounds weird, right?”
“I know, but it makes people feel safe. We need to maintain some sense of hierarchy. So, that’s what we’re doing. You were a major. I was a sergeant. And that’s all there is to it. We’re it, kid.”
“I hate being it. Anything to report?” Alex asked, studying the horizon for any unusual movements.
“Nah. We’ve had a quiet night,” Henry said as he folded his arms across his chest. “There were a couple of deadies we had to take care of, but I’m only talking a couple. Four, tops. Some of the kids in Hangar 4 are getting restless. Bored. Hungry. Agitated. We might need to think about organizing some training drills. What do you think? I reckon it might be a good way to keep morale up?”
His suggestion made Alex feel momentarily hopeful—something she hadn’t felt in some time. Training the younger residents would maybe create the sense of community and purpose that was missing from the compound. “I think that’s an amazing idea, Henry. Where do you come up with them? Hell, I’ve been so depressed recentlyI haven’t been able to think straight. But you’re so right. We should set something up this week. What day is it again? Not that it matters, but I’d like to know what day it is. I want to help you to coordinate it. Yes, Henry! Let’s train these youngsters to defend themselves. I’m sick of popping zombies.”
“Get out of here! I’ll never get sick of popping zombies,” Henry laughed as he gave Alex a wink.
As they continued to speak, Alex’s mind flickered back to her days in the military academy. The rigid structure, the enforced hardship, and the knowledge that everyone had each other’s backs were what she missed more than anything. Those memories were bittersweet now, tainted by the isolation that had come to define her life post-virus. She had witnessed the collapse of society firsthandandwatched as the military struggled to contain the chaos. Well,struggledwasn’t exactly the word. They failed. Miserably.
Now, what was left of her colleagues had banded together to keep control of the compound and to save as many survivors as they could. But things were hanging by a thread.
“How are the supplies looking?” she asked, changing the subject and snapping back to the present. “I noticed that we were running low on canned veggies and fruit. We need to head out and stock up. Who can we send? We’ll all end up with scurvy at this rate.”
“Miller is heading out. I’ve got a couple of guys who’ve been helping me out on the allotment who’d be happy to follow him on a mission—three or four young, healthy fellas. So, we’ll see to it. You can leave it with us, Major,” Henry replied, his respect for her palpable.
As she opened the door and walked into the hangar, Alex sensed the weight of her responsibility settling on her shoulders. And it felt heavy. The compound had become a refuge, and people were arriving by the day, but they didn’t have what they needed to make the place run as smoothly as Alex would have liked. Their supplies and equipment were sorely lacking and as far as Alex could see, there was no end in sight to this crisis. Refugees would continue to come, as would the dead—or undead or whatever they were. It was possible, just maybe, that they could make something of this place—a community, but Alex had her doubts. It would be no easy task.
The clamor of morning began to swell as groups of people started to emerge from their makeshift shelters. The faint smell of burning wood mixed with the aroma of that godawful chicory people were insisting on calling coffee filled the air, reminding her of home, of simpler times spent around dinner tables, laughing and sharing stories with her family. Those memories felt far away, replaced now by the pressing reality of survival.
“Major Bebbington!” Alex jumped with fright as one of the older women, Laura, who had been settled in the compound for just over a week,rushed over, her face flushed with what was clearly panic.
“What is it?” Alex asked, her heart rate quickening. She was bracing herself for yet another emergency, for they’d been coming in thick and fast over the last few days.
“There’s an injured man at the main gate. He’s saying something about being attacked. There’s blood everywhere. We need you to come and look at him,” Laura said, her voice shaky but insistent.
“Sure. Give me a sec, and I’ll find my medical bag,” Alex replied, shifting her focus to the task at hand. As they hurried to the entrance, a pang of protectiveness swelled within her. Every person mattered here. Every life was precious. This was a living hell, but she could make a difference if she put her best foot forward.
They reached the gate, where a group had gathered around a man slumped against the wall, his face pale and gaunt. Alex knelt beside him and assessed his condition. His clothes were filthy, blood seeping through the fabric at his side.
“Get him inside,” Alex ordered. “What’s your name?” she asked the man, trying her best not to bark in too commanding a voice.
“Marco,” he gasped. Alex noted his pain. It was etched in deep lines across his brow. “I came from… I don’t know… about ten miles south. Near Lake Trent. They took everything I had. I just thought I’d maybe find help here. They killed my buddies. Humans. Humans did this to me. Not, you know,them.”
Alex felt almost sick to witness the desperation in his eyes. The world was clearly growing more brutal by the day if people were prepared to turn on each other like this. “You’re safe for now,” she assured him as she met his gaze. “We’ll do what we can to take care of you, okay?”
As Laura helped Marco to his feet, Alex saw that a small group of onlookers had gathered around to watch what was going on. These people had all lost so much already, and every time someone new arrived, the fear of dwindling resources increased.
“Let’s just calm it, everyone. There’s plenty to do around here,” she called out, her voice echoing with authority. “We need to keep working. Come on. Leave it to Laura and me to get this man stabilized. We can deal. Go find something to do.”
Once the crowd began to disperse, Alex took a moment to collect her thoughts.
Maybe we need to establish a schedule and lay down some ground rules. These people are panicked… lost…
Her mind raced with the implications of Marco’s arrival. Would he bring trouble? It was so hard to tell, and she’d been fooled more than once over recent weeks. She used to think of herself as a great judge of character, but these days, it was a dog-eat-dog world out there, and her radar was way off. The question of how to make things work better at the compound lingered as she made her way back to Hangar 2 to find some medical supplies.