Zombie Soap 2: Conspiracy

Twenty-Six

Taylor: Part II

Taylor looked around the large comms room like a kid at an amusement park for the very first time.

Radios and electric equipment took up an entire corner beside a desk with a computer. Open overhead cabinets displayed books, cases of tools, and spare parts. And the space itself wasn't much bigger than a broom closet, but it was perfect.

Taylor didn't need much room as long as no one crowded him.

A man with a glazed expression rested his chin on his hand, oblivious to Taylor and Benson behind him. It wasn't until the higher-ranking officer banged his hand on the desk that the comms man jumped -- something Taylor did as well.

Tossing the headset to the side and springing to attention, the stranger said, "Sorry, sir. Didn't hear you come in."

"Stay alert, stay alive," Benson recited.

"Yes, sir," the man mumbled, continuing to stand still as a statue.

"At ease, Airman. I'm not here to get on your case. I have someone I'd like you to meet." Motioning toward Taylor, he said, "This is Taylor Whittaker. He expressed interest in monitoring communications, and I'd like you to teach him."

The soldier visibly sighed as he cast a grin in Taylor's direction. "Wow, someone actually wants to sit in here all day? Sweet!"

Taylor cocked an eyebrow, prompting a chuckle and a response from Benson. "Poor Wheeler doesn't leave this room much. We need someone constantly monitoring communication, either via the radio or the International Space Station. We still have contact through the satellite, and we have been receiving our updates on the rest of the world through them. The only problem is trying to find people to man the comms, either because they're needed elsewhere or don't want to."

Okay, that was cool. It was a shame more people didn't want to do this job, but Taylor imagined it would be difficult for most to sit in a tiny room all day without being able to walk away.

"I don't mind," Taylor said as he cast a wistful glance around the room once again.

Benson clapped him on the shoulder. "Good. I'll leave you to it then. I'll see you tomorrow at zero-eight hundred?"

"Yeah."

As Taylor nodded, he couldn't help the twinge of guilt inside his stomach. Monica was going to be angry, and even Jayson might hate him if he knew Taylor was agreeing to this, but if it could help his friends, then it couldn't be bad, right?

He'd have to keep telling himself this. His mind justified his actions, but his heart demanded steadfast loyalty to his friends. Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury of boycotting this man. Benson seemed to have a lot of power, and it didn't escape Taylor's notice that the officer made life good or bad, depending on the person.

Taylor decided right then to do whatever he needed to remain on Benson's good side, even if it meant temporarily trading an arm, a leg, and his soul. He could plead forgiveness later.

"Let me know if you need anything," Benson said cheerfully before exiting the room.

The door closed with a soft hiss, leaving Taylor alone with Airman Wheeler. The young soldier didn't allow an awkward pause to stretch between them as he extended his hand to Taylor. "Around military personnel, I'm Airman Wheeler, but you can call me Zander."

"Nice to meet you," Taylor said, accepting Wheeler's handshake.

"So you're John Whitaker's son?"

Taylor swallowed and stared at his feet. There wasn't an easy way to answer the question without spewing out anger faster than vomit.