Lyle, after leaving Jillian in Part 1

Lyle Dumont sped away in the Honda sedan as the sound of the infected drew closer to the parking lot. In the rearview mirror he watched as Jillian walked away with hurried, angry steps. He knew he had hurt her, but in the long run, this was the right decision. If he could just reach Simone, she would know what to do. She would be able to get him to safety, and they could go back for Jillian.

There was only one problem — she was over a thousand miles away in California.

Driving there was a ridiculous proposition. He was no scavenger, having spent most of his life living off the kindness of others who he had manipulated over a long period of time. He could not con a zombie. Based on the way society was deteriorating, best shown by those three bandits at the schoolyard, he would find it just as difficult dealing with them. Lyle was no fighter and would not survive on his own. He needed an edge. He needed a new identity.

It didn’t take long for a situation to present itself to him. Gunfire called out from the on-ramp toa highway, and he slowed the Honda and pulled to the shoulder. Ahead of him appeared a short military convoy, their rifles firing thousands of rounds a minute. He could even hear the spent shells hitting the asphalt, or maybe he was just imagining it. A line of corpses led up to the highway like a conga line of the dead. Instead of fleeing from the scene, Lyle stepped from his car and crept along the on-ramp. He could see the backs of the soldiers who stood atop their vehicles and fired onto the highway. His eyes focused elsewhere on the body of one of the fallen only a few yards away. He sneaked closer to the dark blue suit, the stripes, and medals. He kicked the body’s foot to make sure it was truly dead and then flipped him on his back. Lyle withdrew in horror at the sight of the man’s mouth stuck in the change from human to infected. A bullet hole showed on his forehead, and Lyle pieced together that the poor man was euthanized before turning.

Without further delay he grabbed the man’s ankles, pulled him to the car, shoved him in the passenger seat, and backed down the on-ramp. He drove away from the highway until he found a secluded area in the back of a convenience store. The man’s tag read Salvatore, and he had the markings of a four-star general in the U.S. Army. He was about Lyle’s build and other than some dirt on the pant legs, the suit was wearable. Lyle didn’t understand the meanings behind all of the medals on his chest, but he was well decorated. His wallet had several ID cards which identified him as Victor Salvatore. Lyle Dumont could not demand the aid of others in the outbreak, but General Victor Salvatore could demand the respect of any soldier he crossed.

He took off his clothing and laid them on the back seat. He stripped the general of his suit and dressed in each piece with a meticulous approach. He was not just wearing the uniform of a dead man.

“I am Brigadier General Salvatore of First infantry out of Fort Riley, Kansas.”

Strange, why was General Salvatore in Colorado and not Kansas?

He looked through the rest of his wallet and found a photo of a much younger wife, a teenage daughter, and a tween son.

“This is my wife, Mary, my daughter, Hunter, and my son, Thomas, a future soldier.”

He found two tickets to Opera Colorado’s premier of Daniel Catán’s Florencia en el Amazonas.

“I was in Colorado on vacation when I received an all alert to report to duty. I left my family in the hotel room and showed up on base.”

Now that he was dressed and ready, he dumped the corpse onto the street, and pulled the car out onto the road. He could not approach the highway where he had found Salvatore. The risk of someone knowing the man was too great. He drove to the west and continued all night until he reached the edge of Colorado. It was long road in the moonlight with desert on each side. He wanted to pull over and sleep but felt an unnatural fear of the open world. He was a deep sleeper and would not hear cars coming nor the sound of an infected reaching his car, despite the fact he had seen not a living or dead soul in hours.

And then he saw a flash of light. A helicopter soared overhead, and he sped his car to follow. He quickly lost sight of it but saw a sign for Cisco, Utah. Gunfire sounded just as the sun peeked over the horizon, and around a bend, he slowed the Honda to the sight of a few dozen soldiers firing at a sea of infected rising from a rocky valley. It was the scene from the highway only yesterday but the dead were more vast in numbers and pushing on the highway. People were shouting, running, breaking formation. The helicopter circled overhead but provided no support.  In the chaos Lyle knew what he needed to do. Only he wasn’t Lyle anymore.

He stepped from the sedan and ran across the highway until he reached the first soldier who was backing away from the mob of undead.

“What the hell is going on here, soldier? Where is your training?”

The soldier stutter stepped. He flashed an awkward glance at Lyle and noticed the uniform.

“Sir, we’re being overrun. We need to —“

“Dammit, get a grip on yourself. We don’t fall back, we push forward. Who’s in charge here?”

The young soldier pointed to a sturdy man who was climbing into a Humvee. Lyle ran towards the vehicle and pounded the window. He saw the man was a major, several ranks below him. A quick examination showed he was already checked out.

“What’s going on here?” Lyle demanded.

“This position is a loss. We all need to leave as soon as possible,” the major said already eyeing the road.

“So that’s it? You’re giving up on your soldiers and fleeing the scene? Is this what you learned in the U.S. Army?”

The man stumbled for words and stared back at the dozens of infected now rising over the hill to breach the highway.

“Well go on then. I’m not going to keep you hostage. You’re relieved of your duty.”

The car pulled away, and the major didn’t look back.

Lyle had to take charge. It was the only way he could achieve his ultimate goal. He ran to the second Humvee and climbed to the hood. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted with every fiber of his being as the sounds of the automatic gunfire came in steady waves.

“Form a line over there. You two soldiers hit the north side. Aim for their legs to slow them down. Don’t waste head shots. Stand tall and do not fall back. These are mindless creatures, and you are all trained by the greatest military of the face of this planet!”

Many of those in front of him didn’t listen. Some did. A number of the soldiers stood firm and followed Lyle’s directions. His commands helped but still the dead came. The helicopter overhead soared. It was a losing battle, but Lyle stamped his resume.

“Keep firing and back away to the transport. Don’t let them overrun us. Fall back!”

He watched as a few of the zombies ran onto the highway but were quickly cut down by more gunfire. More infected rose over the hill, and Lyle fell in line with the group of remaining soldiers into the transport. A stream of the undead chased after the heavy truck which started and drove west along I70. The driver was an older soldier, and by his name tag, a captain.

“What happened here?” Lyle asked him.

The captain regarded him with a look of apprehension. “Sir, we were told to set up a roadblock but were quickly attacked by the infected. Our commanding officers fled.”

“Well I’m glad I showed up when I did. It’s terrible to watch soldiers give way to their own fear. That’s not how I’ve been trained, and I doubt you have either.”

The captain nodded. “Very true, sir. It’s a dark time out there. A lot of us don’t know who’s in charge anymore.”

“I understand. For now, I’m in charge. At least that’s what the stripes say.”

The road stretched on for miles and the sun was now shining well over the horizon.

“So what are our orders, sir?”

“There is a safe zone being set up, and I’m going to take you all there. Once we arrive, I’ll see to it we arrange transport for loved ones of the soldiers aboard this transport. I just need you to get me there. We’re heading to California, and we’re not stopping.”