Luann stayed silent for a while.
“No, I never saw any signs about his whereabouts, nor heard of it.”
“Are you sure, Commander? Under utmost professionalism?”
And what is utmost professionalism now when the world have gone into utter chaos? When there were rumors that the higher ups were evacuated somewhere onto a secure island while the rest suffer?
“…Yes, Major General, under utmost professionalism.”
“Alright then Commander, please resume your duty.”
“Aye, Sir!”
The line beeped again. Major General Kim hesitated.
“Did she hear anything, Major General?”
Luann was Cain’s ex, and although he heard they ended on bad terms, their relationship has gone way back. Luann might no longer have feelings for him romantically, but they were comrades. She might not be trustworthy, but…
“No General, she didn’t know anything.”
“Is she honest?”
“She has a clean record, Sir.”
“Huh, strange,” General Edwards kicked a pebble. He stepped into the helicopter and looked back, grinning.
“Well then, I guess we’ll search for him ourselves, shall we?”
“Yes, Sir.”
***
Luann sighed. Why did she lie for that shitty ex again?
She rested her head against her hands.
Hmm…. So, something did happen to Cain huh? Not that she knew much about him after their break-up.
But why is Major General Kim involved? Isn’t he with General Edwards too? Is there a manhunt going on for Cain?
Luann shook her head. This is not a sci-fi or something. Cain might be a shitty ex, but he was a very devoted soldier. And ahem... not that she cared or anything. That is purely returning a favour. She'd die years ago if he hadn't stayed back. She was also certain that he was a good man - but now that she thought of it, he was hard to read, and she might have read it all wrong -
Her line beeped again.
Shit, were Major General Kim one of the people who knew about her and Cain? Did he suspect her?
“Commander Luann, speaking.”
“HEL- hush Desiree, we need to explain the events first. So, we held our morning prayers like usual, then set on the radio and knitted, but the end of the string somehow disappeared- THAT’S BECAUSE THE ZOMBIES CHOMPED ON IT – hush Desiree! Then, we practiced choir like usual, but we heard all weird moans that messed with the melody – THOSE ARE THE ZOMBIES – for goodness’s sake, Desiree, I’m explaining! Then, we decided to knit – WHY DID WE KNIT – HUSH DESIREE – and the zombies flooded in. Now we are ok because the zombies seem to enjoy the music, but I don’t know what will happen when the music goes off…HELP! DESIREE, SHUSH!”
“Uhmmm wait ok, is this the monastery on the fifth street?”
“YES! – Desiree, speak nicely.”
“We’ll be rescuing you soon. Keep the music on.”
“Ok.”
Luann thought again. Do zombies get distracted by music? Well from how they react to gunshots, it should’ve been natural… she squeezed her forehead and grinned. Oh, isn’t it great to think about a creep, your ex, and zombies’ listening taste early in the morning?
A few minutes later, Sergeant Fields arrived with the others and the nuns.
“Corporal Alex, reporting!”
“Everyone complete, Corporal?”
“Yes, Ma’am! Our personnel and the rescue targets, all complete and unharmed!”
“Good. Do the zombies really get distracted by the music?”
“Yes, Ma’am! The nuns turned on the speaker real loud, and I must say, the music was quite the banger.”
“Uh ok Corporal, thanks for the detailed report!”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
As usual, Sergeant Fields introduced the newcomers and gave them a tour. There was a total of five nuns – four over their fifties, with an overwhelming sense of peace, and one in their early thirties. Her name is Desiree, and yes, she was the one Luann heard screaming at the phone.
“The vibes here are rather bleak, Sergeant?”
“Ah yes, Ma’am,” Sergeant Fields scratched his head. The situation had been a bit solemn and dry, and the accident this morning just made it worse. “Do you think you have an idea?”
The nuns looked at each other.
“Ohh, of course we do!”
Luann and the others stood in awe, their jaws dropped. All five nuns were dancing and rocking their heads, the speakers banging with music. That peaceful flat faces were now gleaming. The civilians cheered and danced around them. One of the four older nuns turned the disk around – if they didn’t wear their uniforms, people would think she was a DJ. In evenings, they’d gather around peacefully with circles of civilians, crochet on Mondays, knit on Wednesdays, tea on Fridays.
Luann walked to Corporal Alex.
“I must say, their music is a banger, Corporal.”
“Yes Commander, and I’d say their knitting and crocheting are amusing too.”
“Uh, yes.”
She glanced at the giggling kids, chasing each other around. No, Cain was genuine... it was just that they didn't share the same goals.
“We shouldn’t have shot them!”
“They said no.”
“Killing people still crosses the line, and they are bankers! I’m not going to join a group of barbarians who go around killing people!”
“Oh, does that mean non-bankers have less value, then?”
“Well..”
“Haven’t we been executing the infected too, even though they were once members of our group?”
“But still…”
A prisoner stepped forward, tapping the men backwards. They shuddered. His face, neck, and hands are covered in tattoo.
“I don’t see any problem. What is done, is done, and do you have any other idea in mind? They said no, so do you want us to keep on begging?”
Cain patted Aron’s shoulder. They were standing face to face, a group of people on the other side facing Cain, and another group behind Cain. The group against him eyed the other side warily – they should have known, from Cain’s avoidance of the military and tattoos, that there is something shady with this guy. Now look, the ex-convicts were backing him, proudly claiming him as a hero.
Faisal stood a little bit away from the crowd, trying to distract Camilla, and Juan hesitantly stood beside him. He always knew Cain had a wild side, but he never expected him to go straight for an attack.
Cain turned away.
“I’m not going to keep anyone hostage. See for yourselves where you want to go, but I will be heading down to search for a safehouse.”
“Nice to know, then! We will be heading to the bank to apologize and join the civil people.”
The people muttered, reluctantly following Cain. Only a few joined the group going back to the bank. Cain is dangerous, but who knew what would happen if they tried surviving without him?
The deserters arrived at the entrance of the bank.
“We come in peace! We’d like to apologize for the earlier incident – we disagreed with the attackers’ actions and came to help in any way we can.”
Silence. Then, almost unbelievably, the door opened. The man inside smiled.
“That’s ok, we understand that a big group of people might not agree on the same thing. Come in, our place is a mess right now, but we have plenty of supplies and can use some help. Please rest up.”
They gleamed. See? This is the right decision! But as soon as the door behind them closed, the man disappeared and another bunch appeared, guns against their forehead.
The head of the bank leaned against the rail.
“You really are hopeless fools, aren’t you? Security, fire.”
Gunshots rang.
“Clean the mess.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The lifeless bodies were dragged across the floor, leaving a trail of red blood.
Meanwhile, Cain and the others arrived at a garage. It was an abandoned food storage, still filled with packs of food and water. It was large, its metal walls thick, keeping the cold dry air away, and while the lock is broken, the barricade is enough to keep it closed from the wind.
The thing is, by the time they spotted the first zombie, the entire place would have been surrounded by zombies.
Cain looked around. 30 people left, 17 sick.
“Everyone, if you’re sick, rest up, but if you are not, be on hourly watch shifts. If you need to take care of a member, report. Since there are 13 of you, the schedule will be like this…”
That night, Cain sat with Camilla. Juan and Faisal were fast asleep, exhausted from all the rooftop shenanigans. Camilla hadn’t eaten a bit that day – she had a high fever, and every food that came in were thrown back out. Her nightmares got worse too.
“Chew this slowly, ok?”
Camilla nodded, but a few seconds later, she retched and cried. Cain quickly slipped the bucket under her head and comforted her.
“Is your head hurting again? Do you want some more tea?”
“I DON’T WANT TO EAT!! MY THROAT HURTS!”
Cain sighed. He stirred the pot, reheating the rice. This time, he added more water, making it into a porridge.
“You need to eat, or else you’ll get even worse.”
“NO!”
“You’ll feel better.”
“You promise?”
“I promise. Now, try this, hmm?”
The little girl hesitantly opened her mouth. Her eyes perked. The warm porridge soothed her flipping stomach.
“How does it taste?”
“It’s good!”
Cain smiled.
A little boy was spooning soup to another boy, probably four years older, chained to the wall. The soup didn’t do much to ease his hunger, but it warmed his bruised stomach, and the presence of the little boy was more than enough to soothe him in the cold autumn night.
He hummed a melody.
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