Operation Z by Szepanski, G.D. (well read books .txt) 📗

grill set up behind the house and Jim put it to work on his prized meal. The steak and the cold beer tasted like heaven on this hot and humid summer day. If zombies didn’t roam the Earth, it would be a wonderful vacation for Jim.

So far, the day had been successful. Fewer zombies roamed free and Jim knew of one group of survivors out there. The three teenagers acted tough but showed their fear when he confronted them. Jim wondered if they were alone or if they had a larger group somewhere nearby. He’d keep his eyes open because a scared enemy could make stupid decisions. Hurting a group of scared teenagers who were trying to survive was the last thing he wanted to do.

A more pressing need was to find a piece of heavy equipment. There were a bunch of zombie corpses rotting in the streets, and the smell in town would only grow worse from their further decay. Disease spread via dead bodies, so he needed to prevent that issue too. Where do you find a backhoe? The town’s garage might have one, but where was it located? Random driving around the town and hoping for the best would be a poor plan, so Jim needed something better.

After cleaning up the mess from his lunch, Jim searched the house for any clues. In a drawer within a hall table, he found a local phone book and a paper map of the town. The blue pages in the thin phone book displayed the numbers and addresses for the local town government facilities. It turned out Jim now lived in Wheresville Valley, Tennessee. His town was unknown no more.

He paged through the phone book and found the address of the town’s public work’s building. The map placed it on the outskirts of town, on the opposite end of Jim’s place.

“Shit, it would have to be across town.” Out of habit, Jim expressed his frustration out load even though no one could hear him speak.

It was early afternoon, so there were several hours of daylight left. No time like the present to head out. Which vehicle should he take? After an internal debate, he took the Honda across town. If he found a backhoe, he’d have to leave the vehicle behind, and both the GTO and pickup truck were too valuable to him.

The Honda CRV had a full tank of gas, so the trip through town wouldn’t tax the small SUV. His drive didn’t take long, and he came across no new zombies or other survivors. Jim’s extermination trip during the morning rid the town of the walking dead, at least temporarily. It’s possible to claim back the world one town at a time.

Wheresville Valley, Tennessee Public Works, read the sign in front of the small garage building. No one would confuse this town with a big city, and this place reflected that fact. The building’s front contained four rolling garage doors and a single man sized door with the words “Office” written over top of it. Jim planned on entering through the office door and checking out the equipment housed inside. If the garage doors had been glass, he could have looked inside, but all three doors were solid. There were no signs of any backup power source, so it would be dark inside of the building.

A simple lockset with a deadbolt locked the office door. Jim didn’t bother looking for a hidden key but drove his size 15 foot through the door. Wood splintered, and the door flew open and the scent of death washed over Jim. He hefted the billhook saw and entered the building. A body laid on the floor behind the front desk. Both zombie and rodent teeth marks covered the remains. “Shit!”

Big Jim walked around the back of the desk, and the corpse snapped at him. The remnant of the body still longed for living human flesh, even though its arms and legs were chewed off. He flinched at the sight before bringing his boot down and flattening the skull, ending this freak of nature.

A small office at the back of the entry area was empty of any other monsters or bodies. The second door opened into the garage area and Jim knew he’d find more monsters there. Someone had chewed on their office coworker, and the outside door had been both closed and locked.

He peered through the door’s window and found the garage area shrouded in a murky light. Small windows ringed the top of the garage structure, but no one cleaned them during the last decade. The garage held three dump trucks, a backhoe, a loader, and a street sweeper. Why didn’t he bring a flashlight with him?

Jim’s simple plan had him entering the garage and then opening the closest garage door. Light from outside would illuminate the space, and he could then see all threats hidden in the shadows. Not much of a plan, but this wasn’t exactly Mission Impossible.

Deferred maintenance extended to the passage door, and the hinges screeched forth Jim’s intensions. Moans came from the other side of the garage telling him he wasn’t alone, but he had expected nothing less. He let the door close and eased down the walkway next to the first dump truck. Jim’s eyes bounced both directions, waiting for the oncoming threat to appear. It didn’t take long. Zombie number one bum rushed him from the back of the truck and a quick swipe of the billhook dropped his would-be attacker. The second came from behind while Jim dealt with the first. It lunged face first at his back, causing Jim to take a step forward, crashing into the truck. His luck held because the zombie never got his teeth on Jim’s skin, but it had knocked the saw from his hand. With an enormous fist, Big Jim punched the monster in the chest, knocking it back. A living man would gasp for breath, but the dead no longer breathed. Without taking a break,