Leaving

The Procurement Committee hadn’t really told them much they couldn’t have figured out on their own: The Atlantic Princess was beached on Point Judith, which meant Courtney and the others would have to travel past Snug Harbor and around the inlet. This road would take them through the town of Wakefield, which was an area they had had to go through during an earlier outing. It had been densely populated with the undead and probably still was. They would then have to venture to the very end of Point Judith Neck where the cruiseliner was said to be stuck on the shore.

Dr. Aaron Dane agreed to accompany them. He said he didn’t spend the last five years of his life on a ship in the Atlantic creating a cure without being able to see it arrive safely to those who needed it. Besides, he knew the layout of the ship and could give them first-hand input on what directions they should take. He seemed very brave despite the isolation and hardship he had already suffered. It only made sense to bring him along.

Courtney was the first Black Beret to arrive at the garage that morning, but Dane was already there, sitting casually in a lawn chair and drinking coffee from a styrofoam cup. He was wearing only canvas tennis shoes, jeans, and a plain blue sweater. Courtney reminded him that he should have better protection and to go to the armory next door and ask for a shirt of chainmail to wear beneath the sweater.

He just looked at her and smiled. His reply to her concern, in his semi-elegant French-Canadian accent, was, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just stay behind the rest of you. Besides, you will be giving me something to look at, won’t you?” His eyes then drifted lower.

She scoffed and told him, “Don’t be a pig.”

He chuckled.

Apparently the poor guy lost much of his tact while he was adrift at sea, so she didn’t worry about it too much. She just tried to avoid him as best she could as she inspected the humvees they would be taking that day.

One of them was the very same humvee she had used to drive to Eastpointe, which someone had taken and stored in the garage shortly after she arrived. When she realized this place was the best she could hope for she never gave the humvee another thought. She certainly didn’t miss it either. Even now it made her uneasy to look at the seat she used to curl up and go to sleep on. She was never comfortable when it was one of the humvees chosen to be used on any particular outing.

Leon showed up within a few minutes suited up in his own Black Beret attire. He had received one of the later versions of the uniform, the only difference in his being the little waving American Flag sewn on just below his left shoulder.

She wished one of the other members had arrived before he did so she wouldn’t have to deal with any awkward glances, but there were none exchanged anyway. She expected some kind of comment about the incident at Suds & Salutations, but he didn’t say a word about it. Even after they nonverbally agreed to go to the armory and begin hauling supplies to the humvees together, any comments he would make were directed entirely to the business at hand.

She didn’t like the quiet. Just to have something to say, she considered thanking him for backing her up at the meeting yesterday and raising his hand after she did, but for some reason it didn’t seem like something she should thank him for.

They hauled some extra rifles and handguns and put them in the back of both humvees, along with spare wakizashis and ammunition. She even thought to get a shirt of chainmail to give to Dane despite his comment earlier. She thought about mentioning it to Leon to see what kind of reaction he would make, but she figured he might only say something along the lines of, ‘Well, the guy’s been on a ship with no one but zombies to keep him company, so his judgment might be a little off now. You know, like beer goggles.’ And she would tell him she hoped a thousand maggots infested his earlobes and that would be the end of it.

Both of them ended up hardly saying a word to each other.

The Superintendent arrived next, but didn’t do much more than just stand back and watch while Courtney and Leon did the heavy lifting. Occasionally he would exchange casual remarks with Dane. Members of the Procurement Committee showed up to deliver road maps plotting the best course in red marker. They saw to it that both humvees had two copies, one in the middle compartment up front and one in the glove box. They also placed a short-range walkie-talkie in each vehicle. There was no way for a team outside the wall to communicate with Eastpointe, but at least the team could communicate with each other.

The Superintendent and the Committee left shortly thereafter, headed toward the front gate to finish preparations there.

Finally the rest of the Strike Team straggled in one at a time.

Mike Newcome, looking tired, went about giving the humvees a final once-over mechanical inspection. Delmas Ridenour proceeded directly to the fuel reserves and filled both tanks to the brim. Christopher Gooden brought two coolers of foodstuffs and Vaughn Winters, as was typical, did as little as he had to while pretending to look busy.

No one who was actually going on the trip talked a whole lot. Courtney was beginning to remember exactly what it was like on the mornings before the Strike Team ventured out the gate:

Solemn.

Aside from a few carts going here and there with the occupants on their way to whatever job they had to do, Eastpointe itself was very quiet. She wondered if anybody had been told exactly what the Strike Team was being sent out to recover this time. Certainly they had to suspect it was something important, but she was somehow sure they knew absolutely nothing. After all, knowledge of what was being brought back would have caused uproar throughout the entire community.

Finally, after all preparations had been completed and double-checked, the Strike Team divided themselves up into two groups and boarded the humvees. Though the vehicles were very similar, Courtney was pleased to not be in the humvee that was originally hers. However, this decision placed her in the same vehicle with Leon, Vaughn, and Dr. Dane. Vaughn decided he would drive the first shift through untroubled territory since he was not as practiced in handling a standard transmission. Someone else could then take over before they reached a known trouble spot. Delmas Ridenour steered the other humvee—the one that used to be Courtney’s—and Mike Newcome and Christopher Gooden rode with him.

The humvees started up, sounding much louder and more menacing due to the exaggerated echoes caused by the confines of the Eastpointe parking garage. They immediately proceeded to the front gate, where Superintendent Ervin Wright and the Procurement Committee waved at them and told them to be safe.

A guard stationed on a scaffold near the wall fired off two shots from his rifle, putting down two zombies wandering near the gate. Then the siren went off as the gate guards hit the switch to open the inner gate, likely awakening everyone in Eastpointe who worked night shifts. The humvees ventured into the decontamination zone, then the inner gate was closed and the outer gate was opened.

Courtney counted eleven zombie carcasses here, including the one of the business-suited zombie she had no particular fondness of. Usually the bodies were given a dose of kerosene and lit on fire weekly. It seemed nobody had bothered to do it for some time. The wheels of the humvees simply rolled over them without a second thought.

Vaughn pulled their humvee in front and led them down the winding road away from Eastpointe. The outer gate closed behind them and the sirens ceased their deafening roar. The Strike Team then plunged forward into the world ruled by the living dead.