Chapter 10
We had been on the road about one and a half hours when we spotted smoke on the horizon up ahead. We proceeded cautiously. In about 20 minutes, we spotted a farm house fully engulfed in flames. We turned onto the dirt driveway and proceeded toward the house. There were three cars parked in the yard of the house.
Mel and I got out of the APC. Ruben, Paul, and Dennis got out of the van. We all started moving toward the house at a crouch. We found the drivers of the cars behind the house. There were six individuals all wearing blue bandanas and dressed similarly.
"They're some of the L.A. gang members." Dennis whispered.
They had what looked like a family tied and kneeling on the grass. One of the gang members had a pistol to the head of the oldest male prisoner, probably the father.
I told everyone to target one of the gang members. I whispered to Mel, Ruben, Paul, and Dennis "Target left to right based on your position from me. Take them out on my count of three."
Dennis started to say something; I gave him a look that cut it off. I’ll take the guy with the gun I said. The gang member with the pistol raised it to cock it. I counted 1..., 2…, and 3! Four gang members dropped.
The remaining two started looking in our direction "Drop your weapons and put your hands on your heads." I yelled. One guy did as instructed. The second one pointed his pistol in our direction. I fired a second shot and he dropped as well.
"Stay here." I said. I got up and moved quickly toward the gang member's position.
Using my toe I flipped each gang member over and delivered a kick to their ribs. All but one appeared to be dead. I kicked the gun away from him and called for Dennis. "Search them both and secure their hands." I said. I knelt down and cut the bonds on their prisoner’s hands.
"Do you know if there are anymore of them?" I asked while cutting his bonds.
"These are the only ones that we saw. Who are you, where did you come from?" Asked the man the gang had been about to shoot.
"Later, first you answer some questions for me." I said. "Who are you? And what are you doing here?" I asked.
"I’m Stan McDonald this is my wife, daughters, and son. We were driving north from Palmdale when these guys ran me off the road. They said they were going to kill Doug and me, but they said they could sell Jean and the girls." said Stan.
I looked over at his wife and daughters who were naked. They were trying to cover themselves with their hands and arms. "You ladies can get dressed now. You can use the clothes off these guys. Dennis and Stan's son Doug started helping them gather clothing from the bodies."
"Jack you and Mel can come on up now." I called out. Both Jack and Mel came running up.
I looked back to Stan who blurted "Where did you come from? Are you military?"
"No, we’re civilians from Wasco, on our way to Edwards Air Base to try and locate some medical supplies." I told him.
I asked Dennis to check out the vehicles these guys had been driving. And for him to get the best one fueled up. Then get someone to make a map to Wasco. We can send them there for safety and shelter. I asked Mel to walk back and bring Gus and the APC up here. Then I asked Ruben to help me take the wounded guy and the prisoner to the Barn for questioning. Holding my pistol on the uninjured prisoner, Ruben and I dragged the unconscious prisoner inside the barn. Once we were inside the barn, I told Ruben to go out and look around in case there were others we hadn't spotted yet.
I walked over to the prisoner, "Where are you guys from?" I asked.
"What?" He said. I motioned toward his friend lying at his feet, I said, "I don’t think this guy will make it. In fact I can guarantee he won’t leave this barn alive." I picked up a rag and stuffed it in the mouth of the unconscious guy. Then I picked up a sledge hammer from a pile of tools laying there in the barn. I swung it hard against the side of his right knee. I heard it snap, I pulled the rag from his mouth. "That’s a bad break he’s got there. But that's enough about your friend. Right now it’s your health you should be worried about. I’m not sure you’re going to live either. What do you think? Do you think you could ever walk again with a break like that? I tossed the sledge from hand to hand. Where did you say you were from?" I asked again.
This time he said, "Santa Clarita" while keeping his eyes on the hammer I was playing with.
Dennis jerked the door open. "What's going on in here?" he asked.
"Nothing, one of these guys just tripped and fell. Go get the McDonalds ready to go to Wasco." I said. Dennis gave me a long look then turned and left.
"Ok friend, you can talk to me, or you can die.... It's your choice. What were you guys doing up here? Are there any others of your bunch wandering around?" I asked.
"We were just patrolling the road when we found these guys. We were going to have a little fun with the women then take them back down to Santa Clarita." He said.
"How many like you are in Santa Clarita?" I asked.
"There are about 40 warriors and maybe 20 prisoners there. The prisoners are traded with the warriors in Los Angles about two or three times a year." He said.
"Warriors, what the hell are warriors?" I asked.
"Yeah, that’s what we’re called. There are The Warriors, The Blood Brothers, and The Del Norte Gypsies operating out of Los Angeles now. There used to be some smaller groups but they have been defeated or absorbed by the three big groups. "The Warriors control the territory north of Los Angeles. The Blood Brothers control the east and The Del Norte Gypsies control the area south of Los Angeles. Each gang has a couple hundred or so members inside their safe areas. They have been able to defend against both their rivals and the Zombie attacks. I don’t know how many groups like ours operate in the outlying areas. We loot small towns for goods and prisoners." He told me.
"Prisoners, what the hell do you need prisoners for?" I said.
"The prisoners we keep are usually just the women or girls, you know." he said smirking.
"Ok, I think we are through here." I said. I left the barn and found Dennis waiting for me when I exited the barn.
"I can’t go along with torturing prisoners." Dennis said.
"I really don’t care what you can or can’t go along with. Find me some paper and a pen I have to send a note back to Tom. You can take it if you want or you can come with us to Edwards." I said.
I turned on my heel and walked away toward my APC. I grabbed a tote bag out of the back and walked over to Stan and his family. I gave each of them a bottle of water and some trail mix.
I turned to Stan and said, "Have you ever heard of The Warriors, The Blood Brother, or The Del Norte Gypsies?"
"They are the big gangs working out of Los Angeles. They used to raid around Palmdale. But I thought if I stayed away from Los Angeles we would be safe." he said.
Dennis walked over and handed me a note pad and a pen. I jotted down what our prisoner had told me and what I could about the McDonalds. I looked at Dennis, "Did someone make them a map? I asked.
"Yes, Paul drew them up a map and talked to Stan about the route." Dennis said.
"Give the guns we took off these guys to Stan he can distribute them to his people as he sees fit." I said.
"Rubin come with me to get the prisoner." I said. When we entered the barn, Rubin looked at the now dead wounded guy who's leg was sticking out at an odd angle from the knee. "Damn, what happened to his leg?" Ruben asked. "I broke it…, take this guy outside and put him in the trunk of the car you picked out for Stan and his family."Tell Dennis to come in here when you finish." I said.
Dennis entered the barn giving me his obviously practiced cop stare. I walked over to him and said, "I can overlook your not taking out the gang members when I ordered everyone to shoot. Hell, for all I know you couldn't put your pistol in your pocket and shoot yourself. So, I'll mark that up to incompetence. But never again question me or my methods in front of the others. If you challenge me in front of the others, or a prisoner, we will settle it right then and there. I'll kick
your ass so hard you'll have to raise your arms to fart. I’ve survived out here for a couple of years now; it is very dangerous. The Zombies will mindlessly attack and kill you. But because they can think and plan, the living are far more dangerous than the Zombies. But remember this, I am absolutely the most dangerous thing you will ever... come up against. If you cross me, let me assure you, I will kill you, and it might not be fast, and it might not be clean. If I give instructions I expect them to be followed to the best of your abilities, or I will abandon you out here. If your failure to follow an order that I give results in someone getting hurt or killed, I will kill you where you stand and never give it a second thought. I don’t torture or shoot people for fun. But I can... and I will... beat information out of someone if it aids in my survival. I will kill without mercy for the same reason. I will do whatever it takes to stay alive or keep the team members alive. Are we clear…?" I asked.
I turned and walked toward the door. I stopped and turned to face Dennis and said "Not that it mattered to me or made any difference in the way I dealt with the situation, but the wounded guy was already dead when I broke his leg. But it got the second guy to tell me everything I wanted to know. Without my having to break his leg, or beat the information out of him. Which would have happened next if he hadn't' talked."
We finally got Stan and his family on the road headed for Wasco. Dennis decided that he would continue on to the base with us rather than accompany the McDonald's back to Wasco. It was almost 3:00 pm so we decided it would be best to spend the night here before heading on to Edwards. I took my pistol and put a round in each one of the dead gang members head. Then we threw their bodies into the fire of the burning farm house. We had not spotted any Zombies in the area but everyone agreed it was best to back the APC and van into the barn where we could sleep in relative security. There was a Loft where we could post a guard working three hour shifts. Paul, Jack, and Gus would be exempt so they could be well rested for a round trip to Edwards Air Base the next day.
We slept through the night without incident, awakening at about 6:00 am the following morning. We loaded into the van and the APC and started toward Edwards. We skirted several towns along our way staying clear of the larger metropolitan areas. We spotted gang members in one of the towns but thankfully they didn’t see or pursue us.
The areas we travelled through were surprisingly Zombie free. We hadn’t seen any Zombies the whole time we had been on the road. About 18 miles beyond Mojave we arrived at the Muroc Road gate onto the base. Jack stopped at the guard house at the base entrance. A Zombie wearing military clothing walked around the guard shack toward us. I leaned out my side window and put three 9mm bullets into his head. I pushed open the door on the driver’s side and jumping out I ran over to the guard shack. I grabbed the guard's arms and dragged his body over to some bushes across the street from the guard shack. I walked into the guard shack, there was an M4 lying on the floor. I grabbed the M4 and tossed it into the van.
I got back into the APC and we continued to drive down the road. At Yeager Blvd., we started following Gus’s direction to the aircraft hangers. At the aircraft hangers we started checking out each hanger. In the fourth hanger bay we located a Blackhawk that was outfitted for search and rescue missions. "This is the one we want; it has lighter armor but extra fuel pods installed." Gus said. There were also a couple of Black hawks outfitted for combat. We pulled the door guns and ammo from the combat helicopters. We installed one on the search and rescue chopper and loaded the second one inside. "This will be a useful tool for the roadblock to have." said Gus.
Everyone was wandering around looking in storage bins and on the work benches for anything of use, and keeping their eyes open for Zombies. Then everyone jumped when the generator at the rear of the hanger roared to life. Gus said, "Sorry about that but I want to get the chopper charged up and ready". Gus walked over to the chopper and hooked a battery charger onto the batteries. Five minutes later he climbed into the chopper and took the pilots seat and started flipping switches. "Great news" he yelled in our direction. It looks like they kept this baby's ready to go, it’s full of fuel. Gus got out of the chopper and walked over to a tanker truck parked just inside the hanger. Gus climbed up into the cab and exited holding a clip board. Next he walked back to the gauges mounted on the trailer. "This tanker is about 90% full." Gus said. I called Paul over and told him this would be his ride home. I told him everyone would convoy together because that was probably safer than chancing it alone.
I asked Gus if he could identify a plane for me that would be the easiest to train a pilot on. Gus remembered a T-44 Pegasus he had spotted in the first hanger that we had searched while trying to locate a chopper. "That T44 over in the first hanger we checked is a great trainer. It has seating for an instructor and two student pilots plus it will carry two additional passengers. So training can occur while performing a flight mission. Its twin engines increase its safety and speed margins." Gus said. Gus and I started back to that hanger, halfway there Gus saw a Zombie sprinting toward us. We broke into a run and ran through the hanger door about 15 feet ahead of the Zombie. Once inside, I whipped out my 9mm pistol spun around facing the charging Zombie. I raised the 9mm and hit the Zombie with two shots to the chest. The impact of the bullets barely slowed the Zombie down. The Zombie hit me with his arms still outstretched. Both the Zombie and I flew back into the hanger and crashed to the floor in a heap.
I wiggled out from under the Zombie and fired a final round into the back of his head. Gus was staring slack jawed at me when I limped back over to him and stretched my back. "Damn Zombies" I uttered while rubbed the bump on my head where it had hit the floor.. "Man I thought that S.O.B. had you! Too bad Dennis missed it. He would have enjoyed seeing you knocked on your ass, even if he didn’t get to shoot you afterwards", Gus said while laughing. "Yeah, I guess he would have. He and I will work it out. He just needs to see how bad it is out here. He has to learn the courts are closed. To survive out here you sometimes have to be judge, jury, and executioner." I said.
"We were pretty lucky Wasco is located off the beaten path and not very close to either highway 5 or highway 99. We had minimal Zombie problems, and no major gang attacks. After seeing those guys at the farm house I think the survivors might be as dangerous as the Zombies." said Gus. "Yeah, back where I'm from we were located off the main routes too. Luckily, we didn't have gang problems, but roving survivors could be dangerous." I said.
Gus walked over to the plane and opened the fuselage door. I went in first and then called Gus in. Gus sat in the pilot’s seat and started flipping switches. "This one's fueled up too. These guys were all prepared to bug-out. I don’t understand why they didn’t use these aircraft." said Gus.
"Maybe they had an alternative evacuation plan or maybe they were overrun before they had a chance to leave. I witnessed the take over of a hospital in the SF Bay Area. The hospital fell and it radiated out from there into the surrounding community with incredible speed. The same thing would have applied on a crowded, disciplined military base. No one expected to have to fight for their life. There were laws and Military police that were suppose to enforce those laws. One Zombie bit and infected three or four people who each infected three or four people and they … you can do the math. It was probably over in a couple hours for almost everyone, A few survivors might have held out for a couple days, but being civilized people they would make the wounded comfortable and try to treat them medically. By the time they figured out that the survival rate was zero for a bitten person they would have a medical area full of Zombies. What I just don't get is if everyone fell to the Zombies, where are all the Zombies now?" I ask.
Gus was standing there staring at me. "Damn, son I never really thought it through. I thought it was like in those movies. I just thought it was cowboys and Zombies. I never gave any thought as to how bad it must have really been. Not just the Zombies, but watching people just trying to help other people, get bit and then in turn, bit
ing others themselves." said Gus.
"Well I can tell you from experience, it was bad, really bad. And now we have the gangs to worry about as well. They are dangerous because they were already survivors operating outside of society norms. They were prepared and willing to kill from the beginning. Now they are like mad dogs. They are much worse than the Zombies. The Zombies are just working on instinct; the gangs are calculating bullies and savages. They set traps and lure the living in for gain, spoils or just for fun." I said.
I walked over to a work bench, picked up a can of black spray paint and marked the planes door with a large X. "So I know which one, when we come to pick it up. Now let’s find some more fuel tankers". I said. "I saw a couple takers out on the tarmac." said Gus.
Outside we walked to the first truck. "This tanker contains aviation fuel. It will burn in the airplane in there, and it’s about 80% full. There should be about 300 hours flying time. We can train 10 pilots with that." Gus said. I marked the Tanker with a large X using the spray paint. We located two other tankers with fuel for the chopper.