"What do you want Lieutenant?"
"Final artillery coordinates for Cleveland have been set. Wind and atmospheric readings taken into account, and the men are suited up. Shelling to commence on your order sir."
"Would you do it, Lieutenant?"
"That's not my call sir."
"I'm making it your call. Would you do it?"
The neatly outfitted man in the Army dress uniform stood quietly. His cropped hair was cut very short, and beads of sweat rolled like a struggling ship at sea across the ridges of his forehead. A rainbow of decorations was pinned across his chest, with an Airborne Ranger patch proudly stitched to his arm. A silver parachute with wings was placed directly next to a purple heart and an expert marksman badge.
"Yes sir, I would."
"Commence firing."
Lieutenant Colonel Jenkins nodded, turned on heel, and strode quickly from the tent. General Alverson turned his black leather swivel chair to the wall and stared at one of the pictures of army buddies from his distant past. Most of them were dead long before the shit hit the fan, and those who weren't that lucky were most likely shambling around in the darkness. Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. He jerked in the seat as the bark of artillery broke the twilight silence.
"Forgive me..."
Cleveland's zombie problem had been solved.
"Cleveland outpost reporting in. Southern fence is strong with the mother fuck-- what the hell is tha--"
"Cleveland outpost, repeat last. This is Red Rock to Cleveland outpost, I say again, repeat last."
Static.
"Cleveland outpost, repeat last. This is Red Rock to Cleveland outpost, I say again, repeat last."
The ghostly hiss of nothingness wailed in return.
"Shit, I lost Cleveland again." Radio operator Mark Bernstein slipped the headset off angrily and reclined at his station.
"Calm down Markie, you know they've got bad equipment."
"They just got it fixed."
"Apparently they didn't. Did they?"
The radio set crackled to life again, and Mark lazily slipped the receivers over his ears. "Red rock central, go ahead."
"This is McLeod, open the northern gate. Get me Tomlinson and Jacoby to briefing immediately, and have McGregor get the senate to their meeting room as quickly as possible."
"McLeod? Sounds like Bunkersvil-"
"Quiet! We don't have time for this. This is a Class Five emergency. "
Bernstein sat upright in his chair, and everyone else wired into the conversation turned to face him. The lackadaisical air disappeared immediately. Class Five emergencies were reserved for only the most serious security breaches; normally zombies on a massive scale. Reporting a false C-Five was punishable by death, and everyone knew that McLeod wasn't that big of a joker.
"Report the emergency McLeod."
"Just get me Tomlinson and Jacoby to my briefing room, and have McGregor move the senate to their meeting rooms immediately. I don't care if they're asleep or fucking their wives, get them."
"Roger that."
Bernstein cut the line and turned to his crew. "Leo, get Tomlinson and Jacoby to those rooms. Tony, you're on McGregor. Samantha, alert head of security and tell him we have a possible C-Five reported, and to get all men on station."
Keys clacked and fingers flew as everyone rushed to route and connect from one point to another.
The Senate was a fancy name for Red Rock's city council, which had effectively taken control of the situation after the outbreak erupted. Now, they were the six most powerful people for two hundred miles. Most were extremely unhappy with being woken at such a ghastly hour, it was nearly three thirty in the morning. Senator Diane Lorenson was dressed in a body-length robe and still had a set of extra-large curlers in her strawberry red hair. Senator Thomas's eyes were ringed with dark black circles, and a thick stubble covered his large jaw. He tapped his unlit cigarette on the table, visibly perturbed at the situation both in the city and with his smoke.
"What the hell are we here for?"
"I'm not sure sir. I was told to get all of you here on a priority one status, McLeod's orders." Chief of Security DeMarco replied stoically, standing at attention near the heavy double doors leading into the conference room.
"McLeod, that nitwit? Well if he's got us up so goddamned early, where the fuck is he? Senator Wilson half-dropped his shaker of whisky on the table for effect.
"I'm right here, sir." McLeod replied bitterly, as he burst through the doorway. Mr. DeMarco's hands shifted to his holster for a moment as his tired mind struggled to process everything quickly.
"Then let's cut the bullshit Mr. McLeod. What's going on?"
"We have a class five emergency."
All of the Senators, and especially Chief DeMarco, suddenly sat and stood upright. "Go on," Senator Lorenson said with a nod.
"This isn't an infiltration, our systems are fine."
"I trust you fully understand the implications of falsely reporting a class five emergency, which it appears you are doing."
"But we do have an immediate need to evacuate these people. All of them."
Quiet murmurs pulsed across lips as the implications were being realized. Such a massive exodus of people had never been achieved, or even attempted; for all intensive purposes, it wasn't even possible.
"But you said our systems are fine." DeMarco interjected.
"Yes, but the threat isn't zombie this time. It's living. The army is--"
"The army? What army? There is no more army." Thomas hissed.
"There is an army, at least one as we know it. A large enough contingent held out and regrouped on the West coast to make a difference, and now they're heading east; clearing and repopulating cities as they go."
"That's great!" Senator Marcetti piped in, his pudgy cheeks shaking as he spoke.
"Normally, I'd agree. Unfortunately, the army has taken a scorched earth policy when it comes to major cities and their outlying suburbs. Anything deemed to be too risky or costly will be tac-nuked."
Energetic whispers floated once more.
"That's what happened to Cleveland, and it's going to happen here." McLeod finished.
"How can you be sure? Where are you getting this information?" A senator asked in the confusion of tangled voices.
"I can't be one hundred percent positive, but my sources were accurate with Cleveland. I can only assume they'll be right here too."
"Who are these sources? Insiders? Bunkersville? Who?"
"I never made it to Bunkersville."
"Then where'd you go?"
"My source was a man in a small community, an unmarked outpost, living in Connecticut."
"Connecticut? What were you doing in Connectcicut?"
"There was an intentional navigational error in our systems, and we were led off course."
"So you want us to take the word of a bunch of people we've never even met before in making an unprecedented decision on such a grand-scale as this? On hearsay?" Senator Marcetti said through wriggling jowls.
"With all due respect, Senator, that is how you came to power. Is it not?"