It was neat to see him take up the wheelbarrow full of gardening tools, seeds, handy stuff and even soil! The wife carried more stuff and reminded them of the lemons. Dad nodded as they came out ready to go.
Randall, picked some lemons while Steve, Lena and Lisa went to scavenge at another apartment complex in an old building nearby. It had one floor bungalows surrounding a grassy courtyard. They fought off some weak zombies that must have crawled into the area. They were very rotted and didn't react till someone came near. When they finished clearing out the exterior area, a child ran out and into Steve's arms. Steve saw the little child and was about to swing. Everyone was stunned to see him take a knee and catch her.
Lena and Lisa came up to rescue him but heard the crying and sobbing. Steve's eyes swelled with tears. The small girl was hiding and alive, and knew what humans looked like compared to zombies. She was four or five and frightened to death.
Dad came up to see him hold her. They met eyes through their helms. "That's what it's all about."
They returned to the school with the survivors and a lot more supplies.
The girl held Steve's hand and sniffled but looked up in anxious hope at the warriors. When she saw Charlotte on the roof with her M-4 and the other children keeping an eye out, she gazed up in wonder.
Lena and Lisa brought back sacks full of food items. There was plenty of food, as no one survived long enough to eat their cupboards of dry goods. Randall brought up several pillows. Lena and Lisa thought that that was a great idea and proceeded to go back, but Dad said no, not till we get the survivors inside.
The day was spent taking care of these survivors while gathering more supplies. It was a short trek back and forth to the homes and bungalows nearby. The kids on the roof kept an eye out. No zombies came, at least not the frenzied ones. The only zombies they encountered were the stuck decaying nearly gone ones in the various homes and bungalows. These ones, if they had any teeth or nails, were still dangerous. But for Lisa and Lena, having great leg armor, they were harmless and dispensed with easily.
They had no illusion that the zombies wouldn't come. The slow mass that almost got Dad as he was stuck in that cave in of cars wasn't but five or six blocks away. They were sure to spread out again and come this way.
The couple and Beth immediately went to work on the farming. Dad thought it odd that they didn’t want to recover some. But it was clear that the couple was industrious. They were already outside looking at the garden and placing their tools. Dad smiled. They now had a farming group. The man was Jerry, his wife was Julianne. Dad would probably not remember.
The two were in the entertainment biz. They weren't too specific on what they did, probably production or agents. On the day it all started, both woke up late and heard the news. Since they saw the mayhem outside, they hid. Their home was covered by the cluttered garden and only a few times zombies banged on their door. They hid in a small basement. They had plenty of jarred food from their garden hobbies. They were so glad for the rescue, for they didn't have enough fresh water and were losing hope.
Rondo, their dog, was a joy for the little girl whose name was Amy. She also found comfort from seeing other kids eating dog food and drinking apple juice. Lena and Lisa shared the food they got from their scavenging. They laid out cans of things, sweet things, even Ramen, which was going to be a grand dinner item for the kids.
Charlotte was given a break, to be a kid again. She met the new little one and showed her gun... safely... and ate with her. Charlotte and Amy relaxed a little and played games with Maggy and Carl.
Sean came to Dad. "Hey, up on Hollywood, I saw three motorcycles parked in an area next to an apartment building. They were all parked right there, down the side. Three motorcycles."
"It's on Hollywood Boulevard?"
"Yeah, only two blocks south. I rode by as I was leading them away."
"You led some zombies away?"
"You didn't notice? Guess I did my job," Sean smiled.
Dad's brow raised with his smile. "But if they're parked on the side, and not in a parking space, no telling which apartment they came from."
"Yeah, we'd have to search them all. Might be obvious if there's helmets and gear in the rooms. Those should be easy to spot in the apartments," Sean figured.
"Still, that's going to be an ordeal."
"Three motorcycles."
Dad nodded.
6. Religious
After a night of welcomes and stories, his wife, Katrina, and Beth helped situate the couple in one of the courtyard classrooms. It wasn't the safest in a sense, since it was on the ground level and open to the schoolyard. Jerry and Julianne didn't seem to mind. They wanted to be close to the garden. And if anything bad happened, those class rooms were still strongly built. "Like a prison," she quipped. The windows all had steel wiring and the doors were made of thick metal. This school was designed for a lock down.
There were a couple of classrooms upstairs still open and a corner supply room that the wife ransacked for armoring supplies. But, with much gratitude, they insisted on staying 'grounded' and 'imprisoned' as they joked. It was fine. They were a great add-on to the crew.
Amy slept in the room with the kids. They didn’t want to ask her too much about her family. They just focused on getting her acclimated and comfortable.
The next day, Jerry was anxious to learn of this medieval butchery. He listened intently as Sean, Nick, and Steve acted like they knew it all, describing the methodical training and results. Dad merely stood with his arms crossed, looking glum and stoic. Jerry noticed and the others finally acknowledged that it was Dad who taught them everything. The testosterone hormonal imbalance in the room was -- disconcerting.
Dad decided to take charge as the leader. "Tomorrow, we're getting those motorcycles. The warriors and I will be going up to get them. Up on Hollywood, it will most definitely be populated with zombies, perhaps quite a few, stuck inside the apartment and on Hollywood. And there will probably be some fast ones. As long as we stay quiet, should be able to get in and get out fast. Plus, Sean's already led a bunch away from the area. We'll do like we did today, same group going up. Sean, you and Randall will deal with the motorcycle transport. Steve, the girls and I, will deal with killing and searching the rooms for keys."
Sean added, "Should be easy enough to coast them down to the school. Come back up, and coast down the third."
"You ride your bike, have Randall coast them down. Then you follow, bring him back up quick..."
"Oh yeah, got it."
Dad nodded and continued, "I'll have Charlotte be extra ready on the roof. She'll have a clear view up the street. If a big one shows up again or we just need that extra help, we can lead them down this way. She knows what to do."
"You think there will be more of those big ones?" Steve grunted.
"Oh yeah, more," Dad said.
"Shouldn't we get Jerry up to speed on the training?" Randall asked.
Dad looked at Jerry. He was Dad's age or a bit older, very gaunt. He had a soft actor's body before all of this, and now it was even softer. He wasn't unhealthy, but he wasn't strong and vicious either, nor was he young. "He can train with the women."
Everyone glared at Dad as Jerry gulped and sunk in stature. Dad's wife cringed subtly, giving her husband a look. Julianne scowled at him.
Dad's eyes narrowed. "First of all, what the fuck is wrong with you all? He's not ready. Period. Women, men, we all fight. Beth and Katrina will never be as strong as these men or as strong as Lena and Lisa. They don't have it. Jerry can start with them for now. It's form work!"
Everyone shifted nervously, somewhat seething in uncertain offense.
"And you, what's your name again?" Dad motioned to Julianne.
"I'm... I'm Julianne," she answered, trying to be brave.
"You train too. Everyone fights," Dad growled. "I want to go out each day. There is no time for me to stop to train each new survivor and wait for them to be ready before we go out. I bet
people out there are dying, survivors, out of food, like them!" Dad pointed at Jerry and Julianne. "Because it has been long enough, people out there can't wait any longer for us to get ready. They're running out of water. Not a single one of them can move out there to get stuff. Not a single one. But I can!" Dad suddenly yelled and fist hammered the cafeteria table.
"I am right. The women are just as equal at training him as you or I. I've spent this time training both sexes the same! So what's with the stupid looks? Are you all insulted by my fucking brilliance!?"
"I can help him," Beth said positively.
Jerry smiled polite.
They all realized he was right and tried to relieve Dad's outburst with miming attempts at being quiet and apologizing.
"I'll train..." Jerry tried mumbling. Julianne gulped an apology.
"You'll do what I say," Dad stood straight up, pointing at them all.
There was a spattering of shrugs and glances.
"Tomorrow, we get those bikes. We need them. We need them to move around this God forsaken city. We get in quiet like and get out. It's not just for our survival, it's to help others as soon as possible. After seeing these two, I realize we are losing precious time."
They all nodded.
"Now... let us pray."
Most adjusted their posture, extending their heads down, closing their eyes.
"Oh, we're not religious," Julianne said politely.
"Everyone's religious," Dad said through gritting teeth.
She bowed her head.
7. Plan Awry
Sean rode up slowly and silently. He got up to Hollywood Boulevard and stopped. He stood up, straddling the bike, peering over the jammed cars. He looked both ways. A zombie ran toward him. He waited as it neared. He swung adroitly. It dropped. The others hurried, but going uphill, even the slight grade of these Hollywood neighborhood streets, tired them. They arrived in a drudging march.
Dad came up with Randall on foot, along with Steve, Lena and Lisa. Randall was going to coast down the extra bikes.
They made it as half a dozen zombies, swerving in and out of the cars converged on Sean. They stood like statues. Sean glided back down, in reverse, to the group leading the zombies toward them. The zombies weren't certain what Sean was. He crouched still as he rolled down in controlled breaks, looking back. The zombies followed in a non-alarming way, anxious to see. The zombies walked right into the group as they stood motionless.
They dispensed with the zombies with swords and spears. The barking alert didn't get loud. Sean stopped and waited. A slower zombie walked toward them, unsure of the sensory alert it detected. Dad slowly trudged up the street toward it. He stopped when he felt it became anxious.
They waited based on Dad's movement, knowing what he was doing. He stepped closer as the zombie became somewhat aware and rambled toward them. He sliced quickly, lopping half the head. It dropped. He motioned and the rest marched up toward the boulevard.
They veered right, marching along the side of large modern apartment buildings. There were lots of trees and foliage that were still decently green, giving them cover. They kept low to avoid being seen in the vast jam of cars. The blockade was thick all the way down Hollywood Boulevard heading into the tourist area.
There was a rise along the street, a half block, that helped block detection from any masses that might be congregating further along. They took advantage of the various jammed cars for coverage, hustling along from spot to spot.
Dad took the front with Randall just behind. Randall was light footed in his motorcycle leathers with added bracers and reinforced plastics.
Sean stayed in the rear, getting the feel of his role. He walked on his bike, straddled, along the sidewalk, waiting to gun it and take off. At the moment, the area was quiet except for a slight sunny California breeze and their trotting advances.
Dad could see the rear of the bikes parked down the side of a large apartment building. It was a block away and on the rise of the street. He motioned for Randall to go check it out. Randall had to cross the next side street so he looked both ways. He paused at a car, peering around. He pointed down the side street and showed three gloved fingers. Dad nodded and walked out slowly. He turned to face them and saw three zombies down the street. They felt his presence and turned. One walked up faster than the other two. It searched out what it sensed. Dad stood like a statue.
Again, he waited and sliced. It dropped. The other two perked up and rambled forward quicker. He waited then swung in a wide berth. They dropped as the caps of their skulls plopped.
Randall hurried to the other side of the street, keeping cover along the jammed cars. One car tried to go down this street and crashed diagonally, blocking the road. He used that and stayed low as he reached the rise to peer. He ducked and waved back at Dad with a hectic gesture.
Dad read it the same as everyone else: there was a mass of them just over the rise. Dad saw the bikes so close and wanted them. He turned to Sean and motioned.
Sean nodded, a bit anxious. Every day it would be like this. It needed to be done. Sean moved forward on his bike, throttling the gas a little, perking the engine. It yanked forward, up the rise and onward.
A crescendo of growls, echoing along in waves further out met his charge. He gunned it and drove past their view.
Not even noticing Dad, several zombies suddenly burst out of some shrubs near him and ran past. All but one took off after Sean, fiddling on his bike. One turned to spot Randall crouched and unmoving.
Dad quickly stepped up and severed its head. Dad looked at Randall. His sleek motorcycle armor might be too recognizable. He wasn't sure. Lena and Lisa dispensed with the other zombies as Steve hesitated. Dad shook his helm slightly. Steve noticed and shrugged. Lena and Lisa stood calmly. Dad waved and they marched forward.
They crouched or bent as best they could behind cars. A sprawl of zombies spread along Hollywood Boulevard, scattered amidst the cars, sidewalks, driveways and street. Looked like the mass they fought against at the grocery store, or more of the same coming in from East Hollywood, who knew?
As they carefully but hurriedly got up the rise to see over and down, they could see Sean racing along the sidewalk then turning down a street. The scattering mass of zombies took the bait and followed him, some fast, racing up and around the cars, many slow and drudging away.
They reached the parked motorcycles. Randall ran his hand along one. Dad went to the apartment door. It was broken already, the glass shattered, blood stained. The side door that led to the stairwell was also broken. It was going to be easy getting in.
Dad went into the foyer, crunching glass on the floor. He got to the stairwell entrance. It went up and down. Dad turned to see who was following. Randall was next to him. Steve was at the front door, stuck between two worlds, glancing back. Lena and Lisa were outside on the sidewalk. They were jabbing at some slow zombies, killing them efficiently. One got past Lena's naginata. She brusquely yanked it, throwing it down and quickly swung at it with her shortsword. Before Dad moved to help, she had sheathed it and continued with the naginata. Steve and Dad met eyes and nodded okay.
Both were stepping carefully back to Steve at the door, but met a few more zombies. There weren't a lot. Sean had done his job. Only the slow ones had veered back toward them.
Dad went to Steve. "You help them. Keep this area clear. If it gets rough, call them in here. Randall and I are going up."
Dad stepped quickly into the stairwell. They had a lot of apartments to get to. Randall followed from behind.
They got to the first level and found the stairwell door bashed open. They entered. The narrow corridor was lined with trash. The doors were steel and didn't look breakable. That was until Dad slammed against them. They gave like cheap materials against his steel armor. It took one bash, which weakened the lock, and then a kick, which opened one after the other.
On the first floor, they found one of the keys, a helmet and gear. Randall kept the key and tossed the gear o
ut the balcony. Be easier to collect later. Dad killed several weak zombies. He found some suicides.
On the second floor, none seemed to contain any hint of motorcycle gear. There was a family of five, all alive, barely. They opened their door upon hearing the bashing down the hall. The father knew it wasn't a zombie by the way Dad and Randall were bashing and talking. He was so thrilled, hugging Dad as his weak wife and children stared on. They were Hispanic, probably illegals by their bad English Dad figured. But they were human, which definitely trumped any other regard at this time and place.
"You King Arthur! You King Arthur! I'm Amador! I'm Amador!" the man sang. "Thank you! Gracias! Thank you!"
"Alright, alright." Dad realized he had to bring them back safe somehow. He could hear Steve, Lena and Lisa fighting below. He knew there was still too much going on downstairs. "It’s not safe yet. You have to stay here."
"Food, water, please," the wife blurted out, holding her children.
"Yeah, the other apartments, it’s safe to go into them," Randall said, motioning down the hall. They had cleared the rooms and killed the few zombies they found.
Amador grabbed them. "Take us. Please, take us..."
"Si.. yes... but wait..." Dad said, patting Amador with his steel gauntlet.
"Dangerous," Randall added, pointing outside.
"Okay, okay," Amador said. "Wait till safe."
"Yes," Dad said. He motioned to Amador's arms, then his own. "Make armor! For your arms and legs. Cover them. Use anything. Get knives, and wait for us to come back."
Knight of the Dead (Book 3): Fortress Page 4