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

Might as well spend the money he earned for some good. The GPS directed him to Judd’s place. It was close to the farm he grew up on, but Judd had been smart and grew the business well beyond their father’s old farm.

Jim drove down the long driveway to the large farmhouse. No one would ever call Judd tiny, but he was a smaller man than Jim. He stood at only six feet tall and weighed around 200 pounds. His skin had become well tanned by the summer sun and his hair bleached blond. The same easy-going smile Jim remembered growing up lit up Judd’s face. He ran toward Jim and squeezed him in a bear hug.

“Jim, it’s so good to see you. It’s been ages.”

“It’s good to see you too, little brother. Is it alright if I stay with you for a while? I’m between jobs right now.”

“Shit, yeah! I’d love to catch up with you. Stay as long as you want. You’re always welcome wherever I am.”

“The place looks great.”

“Thanks. Let’s grab your stuff and I’ll show you around. Do you remember Melody?”

“Little Melody? Of course. She was your age and always crushed on me when I was in high school.”

“Well, she’s all grown up now and I don’t think she’s over that crush. She’ll be glad to know you’re here for a visit. Maybe you’ll get lucky?”

CHAPTER FIVEDay Three

BIG JIM AWOKE with the rising sun. He always had the natural ability to wake up at a time of his choosing, and Jim knew he needed an early start to the day. Tears blurred his eyes as the aftermath of last night’s dream about Lily faded from memory. It would be a miracle if she were still alive. Jim grieved over the death of Melody, Mary, and all the nameless people he tried to save at the zoo. The weight of all this loss piled upon his shoulders and threatened to smother him, but Big Jim kept going. There had to be other survivors out there somewhere he could help. He just had to go out and find them.

The power remained on in the house where Jim trespassed for the night. Before it failed forever, he took a hot shower and ate a hot breakfast. No saying how long this good luck would last. Jim packed the truck with all the non-perishable food, the stolen electric bike, and a Smith & Wesson 38 Special he found in a nightstand in the bedroom. He hit the jackpot staying here.

When he climbed into the truck, he discovered his direction of travel had in fact been southwest and not pure west as he originally thought. Big Jim decided his best designation would now be the mountains of Tennessee. They were far enough from any major city which would be safer from any more nuclear weapon attacks and zombies. Any survivalist would pick the area too, so it was his best chance of find other people to help.

The stolen F150 ran like a champ. It had been a newer model, and the owner spared no expense with all the options on the truck. Jim still found random cars abandoned along his route, but no other traffic moved. There had to be other survivors. Around midday he found a teenage girl hitchhiking alongside of the road. Since this was the first living person he saw since Mary, he stopped to give her a ride.

“Hi, I’m Jim. I’m glad to see another survivor. Do you need a ride?”

“Uh… Yeah... Sure, I’m Beth. I’m glad to see you too…”

Jim noticed Beth didn’t make eye contact with him when she spoke, and she searched for her words. She didn’t appear to be a drug addict, so he thought she might only be scared traveling on her own.

“Well, climb aboard then.” He added a big smile, hoping to relieve her fears.

Beth climbed in slowly, not like one being saved from a deserted island but like one heading to the gas chamber. She took the passenger’s seat and pulled the door closed, all the while avoiding any eye contact with Jim.

“I’m planning on heading to the mountains of Tennessee and you’re welcome to come with me. Otherwise, I can drop you off anywhere along the way.”

Jim hoped she would consent to traveling with him. He could use the company and he would hate to doom her to a certain death.

“Um… Ok… We’ll see.” Beth wasn’t turning out to be much of a conversationalist.

They drove on in silence. After entering a blind sweeping turn, she finally spoke again.

“I need you to keep your hand on the steering wheel and prepare to stop. Sorry, it’s just survival of the fittest.”

Beth pointed a Glock 30S at Jim with a shaking hand. He knew he could disarm her with little effort and prepared to do so when he noticed the ratty pickup truck blocking the road ahead of them. Two men armed with older hunting rifles stood behind the truck. None of them were professionals, and they didn’t know who they were messing with.

“Beth, you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do. Those two are forcing me and they’ll kill me if I don’t. Living with them isn’t pleasant either, but it’s better than trying to survive on my own.”

“I could protect you.”

“You’ve got three guns pointed at you. Just do what you’re told and maybe they won’t kill you.”

Beth’s eyes danced everywhere, except for looking at Jim. He took advantage of her distraction to stuff the 38 Special out of sight into the belt on his jeans. Jim had only five shots, but he’d make them all count.

“If you give me that gun now, I’ll protect you.”

“Don’t think so. The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.”

“I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but I’m not like them. Not everyone is evil.”

She only responded with a mirthless chuckle. Big Jim eased the truck to a stop and prepared for action.

“Looky ‘ere. What’s you bring us, Beth?”