The God Of The Undead - Chapter 41

(James pov)

After a while of driving and putting up with the assholes’ complaints in the back, we finally were able to make it to Black Site 38 better as The Farm to those with high enough authorization.

The Black Sites were originally for the use of the CIA for when they needed to house high ranking terrorist leaders or people who knew too much, but eventually, as terrorism died down and the need for them decreased, they handed a few over to the FBI as a hand me down of sorts. Of course, we didn’t want to be seen as a second-hand agency, so we turned them into massive underground bunkers in case we began to lose a war or a disease decided to wipe its a.s.s with us. Of course, the Pentagon has many precautionary measures in place if something like that was to occur. Still, I guess they didn’t have a plan or precautionary plan for John seeing how quickly he’s f.u.c.k.e.d the world into oblivion.

Miguel didn’t really speak much to me after I told him about my connection to John and the whole zombie apocalypse we’re living through right now. It’s still too early to tell what he thinks since his face had been straight with a fine but half-assed seasoning of shock. Yeah, weird way to put, but it’s the best way to describe it.

We eventually came across the huge walled off plot of land that came with the black site. Just under 300 acre of land disguised as a farm behind 30 feet high walls under the lie that it was to stop animals and intruders from trespassers. The wall was really used to prevent the escape of activists with too much power and influence.

I directed Miguel around for a moment until we came upon the entrance with many people already outside attempting to break in with crowbars, which they immediately ceased when they saw us approach and slow down. They all mostly ran for cover while few stood still armed and ready to shoot. If I had to judge the situation correctly, they were mostly tired, hungry, and scared folk, hoping that everything would be ok. While it’s easy to tell them a sugar-coated lie like some pussified suburban house dad, but no, I’m not. One, I’m too damn old, and two, I really do not give one f.u.c.k about their feelings or what they’re going through.

“Ok, Miguel, stay in the truck while I talk these folks into joining us while opening the door. I’ll wave to you to signal the ok to move the truck inside the gates.” I say although I had no real intention of getting the group of 20 people to join as I had no idea what our food situation would look like on the farm along with the food reserves within the bunker.

Miguel looked at me with a blank face and said, “Sure.”

He was probably still reeling from what he wanted me to tell him, but if he’s going to survive in this world, he will have to man the f.u.c.k up. I’m an old man who can tell his time on earth is almost up, and I would at least like to leave someone a fighting chance to survive this apocalypse.

I get out of the car and make my approach toward the 300-foot tall gate where a man and who I assume to be his wife stood next to the keypad to get in. If I had ever seen a sugar daddy and golddigger relationship, this was it. Soon as they raised their guns, I raised my hands and said, “Woah Woah wait a minute now, I’m just an FBI official trying to get into this here black site for safety along with my people in the back of the truck behind me. If you don’t mind, could you and your wife lower your guns please while I open the door?”

They both look at each other in disgust and simultaneously say, “Ughh!”

The man then says, “That’s my daughter, you sick f.u.c.k”

If I could look at my face, it would be hysterically funny-looking. I was so close, yet so far. Well, we are in the south during the zombie apocalypse so I guess it would have been ok given our circ.u.mstances and the drastic drop in the human population. Thinking about that makes me laugh on the inside while thinking how f.u.c.k.e.d we are.

“Ok, ok, sorry, just looking for shits and giggles while the world ends, friend. So let me guess you have about 20 people with you, and I have just 6 people whose just trying to survive. So how about this? You and us can join together for safety reasons; only then perhaps we can make this place a little heaven in hell. How about it?” I say while extending my left hand while balancing myself with my cane in the other.

Both the father and daughter were both hesitant while looking back at their group for a group consensus. After a short moment of hesitation, the man says, “Ok, but under one…”

The man was about to state a condition our alliance that I would have most likely have declined when one of those damn zombie spider children that attacked us back at the bureau, killing 3 people in my group. It must have been following us for a while now, and it couldn’t have been just coincidence that it was waiting to attack a random person other than someone from my group.

As it bit into the man’s throat, tearing out and consuming nice chunks of his jugular at each rabid bite before quickly whipped out my gun and shot it 4 times along with the man. As it was feasting and we were caught off guard by the surprise attack, it quickly jerked it’s head upward while its eyes shined a bright red while the ground around us shook violently. Recovering from the sudden earthquake, I took the time to slay both the man and zombie with two final shots.

After the glowing eye show and the sudden earthquake, I look around to check on the truck and the group of survivors in front of me. The violently shaking ground wouldn’t have really caught my attention if not for what I already know.

After a moment to let the man’s bitch of a daughter whose crying loudly, probably alerting more zombies than my gun did, I proceed to input the two sets of codes needed to open the gate and yell, “Okay Miguel, drive the truck just past the gate so we can get in.”

“We? We’re bringing the people who just held you at gunpoint too, old man. You must be going senile if you think that’s a smart idea.” Miguel said, while looking at me with confusion.

I look back at him, and without another word, he curses under his breath and proceeds to drive into what I would call our new home for the foreseeable future. I look at the man’s group and daughter before saying, “You all better hurry up and get in the back before we leave your assess. I really wanna have this gate shut in the next minute and not any later.”

They hurry up and grab their bags and carry off the sobbing daughter who tried in vain to drag her father’s body with her but couldn’t as she was too deep in shock to hold anything. As I walk behind them, I could tell that what was ahead of us was the best option, yet it was felt like it was being overshadowed by something worse despite seemingly being the safest choice. As if we really had one in the beginning.