“What is this mission you speak of?” Croghan says.
This could be a trick. I don’t think it is, but it could be. So I bend down to get my gun, moving lightning quick. There’s no response from the crowd. They remain bowed. Still as statues.
Nope, not a trick.
“Really, man,” I say, “you can stand up.”
Croghan smiles and nods, then he rises, the others with them.
“We are searching for a man, an older man. He goes by the name of Klein. He’s a doctor en route to Washington D.C. Have you seen him?”
Croghan doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes flicker from right to left. He might be thinking. Guilt might be washing over him. If he tells me Doc Klein is dead, I don’t know what we’ll do because our journey will have ended.
“We have seen him,” someone else says from behind Croghan. A large, older man steps forward. He passes his mask to an older woman next to him. “The doctor came through about three days ago.”
“And he left?” I ask.
The older man looks at me with shiny eyes, then he turns to Croghan.
Croghan nods. “You better come with us,” he says to me.
Herb whimpers.
Twelve
“It’s not far,” Croghan is saying. “And you will be safe with us. We keep these woods clear.”
“Our weapons,” I say, “will we need them?”
“No, but if they make you feel safer, you can keep them until we get to Mother.” My ears perk up at this, mind flooding with thoughts of my own mother buried underneath the pile of ash that is Woodhaven. No, that can’t be.
Mother? I begin to ask, but think better of it.
“There is one problem,” Croghan says. “We cannot accept the cannibal you have tied up in the back of your vehicle. He must die.”
I feel my stomach drop. Why does it always have to be death? Why does, in this screwed up world, execution have to be the norm? I look Croghan right in the eyes. “No,” I say. “No, he will not be executed.”
Croghan stops and glares at me. “I don’t make the rules.”
“There are no rules,” Norm says. I don’t think he cares if Froggy lives or not. He just has a problem with authority, always has. Throw in what happened to him at Eden, the capture, the torture, the chopped-off finger, and Norm has every right to question someone talking of rules in the apocalypse. I don’t blame him.
“In this neck of the woods, my friend, there are,” Croghan answers. He snaps his fingers. Two younger people, their masks hanging from their belts, right next to their hunting knifes, advance on the van.
I step in front of them. “Now, gentlemen, we don’t need bloodshed.”
“There’s no choice,” Croghan says, smiling.
“Jack, I don’t like this,” Darlene whispers behind me.
Now she talks to me. I don’t like it either and I’ll do everything in my power to prevent it from getting past a point of no return. Just for Darlene. Just to make it up to her.
“Leave them alone!” Herb says.
Croghan’s eyes balloon as if he’s surprised Herb is intelligent enough to speak.
Abby shushes Herb, but he ignores her. “You leave us alone. Doc Klein was a good man and you hurted him, didn’t you? You hurted him like you’re gonna hurt us!”
“Kill the big one, too,” Croghan says, turning away. “Then we can talk like intelligent men.”
The two men with their hunting knives don’t look like they want to follow these orders, but they also look like they have no choice. I feel for them. If they don’t follow orders, I’m sure this Croghan fellow will kill them.
“Enough,” the older man with his wife says. “These are our guests, let them do with the cannibal what they will.”
The two men and their hunting knives stop at the sound of the older man’s voice.
“Don’t listen to Jacob,” Croghan says.
Now, I don’t stand idly by. I don’t think deeply. I don’t ponder the situation. I make a move for my holstered gun. I’m quicker. The metal fills my hand, and with it, the power. As I look up at the men advancing and the rest of the Wranglers gritting their teeth and pointing their own weapons at us, I realize there is no way around bloodshed.
Croghan was right.
“If you were watching us, you saw what I could do, what we could all do. I can drop about half of you before you take me down,” I say. This might be a lie, but my voice is convincing enough. I don’t want to take any of them down. But I keep going. It’s too late. The wheels are off the track, barreling toward chaos. I feel the tension. The fear. The stupidity. Geez, what happened to kneeling before me? “I single-handedly took down Eden,” I say. “A few crazies wearing masks will be nothing to me.”
Someone’s gun falls to the asphalt.
The slight breeze in the air stops. No more leaves rustle in the trees. It is quiet except for the soft current of the toxic water below us.
“No way,” Croghan says. “Eden?” His voice has lost the authoritative tone.
“We saw the flames,” the older man named Jacob says. “Didn’t we, Marge?”
The woman next to him nods. “We did.”
“You took down Spike?” Croghan asks. He starts to bow down again.
“No,” I say. “Stand up. Yeah, I took down Spike and Butch Hazard. The rest of it…I can’t take credit for that. The flames and the destruction happened during the riots.”
“Eden was unbreakable, how’d you manage to do that?” Jacob asks.
“I’m a good shot,” is all I say. I hope it sounds as cool to them as it sounded in my head.
“Yeah, he learned from the best,” Norm says. “So if you want to discuss this more, I suggest you leave our people alone and we’ll leave you alone. Then you can tell us what happened to Doc Klein.”
Croghan nods. “All right, but the cannibal cannot go with us. That much, you can grant me, right? He doesn’t have to die, though he deserves far worse than death, but he has to go.”
I look to Norm and then to Abby. She looks pleasantly disappointed. I can hear her saying in the back of my mind: But he licked me. He does deserve to die.
“Deal,” I say turning to Croghan.
“No hard feelings,” he says. “You must understand our situation. We have lost too much and cannot risk losing anymore. But why you would want to keep a cannibal alive beats me.”
He walks across the faded white line, his hand extended. “We could form a great alliance. If not from these cannibals then from the zombies.”
I holster the gun, the tension gone, shake Croghan’s hand. This man’s not so bad. He is just protecting his group, like me. “Maybe we could,” I say.
“Take in mind that I do not speak for the group as a whole, though I do have some pull. We will have to discuss it with Mother,” he says.
I exhale a deep breath. There’s always a bigger fish. I nod and smile. Then I say, “Before we head to your…court, can I have a word with my group in private?”
Croghan tilts his head, looks us all up and down. “So be it. I may be in awe of you, young man, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”
I smile. “You can call me Jack Jupiter,” I say.
“So be it, Jack Jupiter.”
And he turns away from me, motioning for the rest of his own group to follow him. They go, but they are not looking ahead. No. They are looking at me as if I’m some type of extinct animal now resurrected. It makes me feel slimy. All of my years, I’ve wanted to be noticed and loved.
But not for murder, not for destruction.
Thirteen
We are all around the back of the van, talking in low whispers.
“You trust ‘em?” Norm asks me.
“No,” I say, “but they seem harmless enough.”
“You call wearing masks and carrying big ass guns harmless?” Abby asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“No, but — ” I begin.
“And why the hell are we keeping this sleaze-ball alive? H
e tried to l — ”
“Yeah, we know. Tried to lick you. Heard it the first eighty times,” Norm says. Then he looks at me, cocking his head. “Wait, why are we keeping this bastard alive?”
“I hate killing. I’ve done it, but that doesn’t mean I like it,” I say. The back of the van is dented and as I pull the door up, it makes a terrible screeching noise. Froggy is inside, barely conscious. The meds he took hit him hard. He smells close to death already. Or maybe he just really stinks.
“Th-Thanks,” he slurs.
I reach in and pull him out.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling gracious,” I say. I pull him up by the collar, stare straight into his dilated pupils. “If I see you again, Frog-Man, I’m going to do a lot worse than I did to your friends back on the highway. Got it?”
God, I sound dumb.
He nods groggily.
He’s even dumber for believing me.
“I mean we could just throw him off the bridge and be done with it,” Norm says.
“No,” I say.
Darlene catches eyes with me. The stern look she had given me before is all but gone. Now her eyes are gentle, soft. Accepting, even. She smiles at me then looks away.
That’s my guy, her telepathic voice says to me. She makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Yeah, I’ll admit it. That’s love, my friends.
I smile back, then turn to the van and start taking out all of the weapons and the medicines. There is a grocery bag, crumpled and ancient. I take it and throw in a bottle of pain killers and amoxicillin, a knife and a flare gun. With my own blade, I cut Froggy’s bound hands and feet.
“You have about thirty minutes before the sun goes down all the way. And around here, I bet it gets darker than anywhere else,” I say.
Froggy stands up, his legs wobbly, his eyes fluttering. “Yeah, I g-got it,” he says. “If you see me you’ll kill me.”
I nod. “Good, now get out of our sight. And if there’s any more of you bastards back at your camp, you tell them Jack Jupiter doesn’t mess around.”
I really try not to roll my eyes at myself.
There’s what looks like fear in Froggy’s gaze back, yet somehow I know it’s fake. Maybe he can read that this really isn’t me. I’m not a tough guy. I’m just a writer who got stuck in the wrong situations and had to defend himself.
Froggy nods fast. “Yeah,” he says as he slowly backs away down the bridge toward the way we came. I am staring at him, trying to muster up as deathly of a look as I can. And I think it’s working because he doesn’t linger long. Even with the painkillers making his muscles and brain muddy, he turns and starts running. While he runs, swerving back and forth across the road, I hear him giggling to himself, giggling like a mad man.
Maybe that’s the last I’ll see of Froggy, and the last I’ll see of any cannibals.
As if reading my mind, Abby says, “Let’s hope that doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass, Jack.”
“Yeah, let’s hope,” I say.
Fourteen
We walk toward the end of the bridge, our weapons and medicine in hand, toward the men and women known as the Wranglers. It sucks our van is gone, but I get it. They were protecting what was theirs. And where we’re going, I don’t think we’ll need a van. It was a sucky van anyway.
Croghan drops back, smiling. I come up on him.
“That was an admirable thing back there,” he says. “Unfortunately, a man like the one you let go would not do the same.”
“That’s not how I use my moral compass. I did it because I felt it was right, not because I hoped he’d do the same. I already know he wouldn’t. He would’ve killed me and ate me the first chance he got. I’m not stupid,” I say. This is the truth, this is how I really feel. Or maybe I’m just trying to cover my ass for what I did back on the highway. I don’t know. This world is not forgiving, why should its God be any different?
Croghan’s smile disappears. “Oh, I’d never say you were stupid.”
We walk on. The trees reach out and try to grab us with gnarled branches, like the hands of an old crone. The road we are walking on narrows until it disappears. Up ahead are most of the Wranglers, about fifteen. Behind them is my group, walking with beaten postures. Then there is Croghan and I. He is not a man I trust so I keep my hand close to my pistol. I don’t think he notices and I wouldn’t much care if he did.
They move like an army, more organized and orderly than Butch Hazard’s soldiers. This is a funny observation. None of them wear camouflaged uniforms or war paint, they are just everyday people who know what’s what.
Maybe I should be more afraid of them than I actually am.
Croghan breaks the silence. “You are quite the talent,” he says. “Mother will be pleased.”
“I’m nothing special. Just been through it all. Zombies. Bullies. Crazy cowboys. Now cannibals and people wearing burlap sacks like that movie Friday the 13th.”
Croghan laughs. “That’s just a scare tactic.”
“How much longer until we get to your village?”
A slow grin spreads across Croghan’s face. He stops walking and before I realize I should stop walking, too, I run into Herb’s broad and sweaty back.
The whole crowd has stopped.
We are looking over a cliff’s edge into a valley that seems to stretch for miles. There are tall trees full of leaves, stretching up toward us, but in between these trees is a small city. Buildings. Roadways. Abandoned railroad tracks. I see a babbling brook still frosted with ice. It’s picturesque. It’s art.
Then my eye moves to the bottom of the slope where the fences are, the bloodstained, rusty tips of spikes, the barbed wire, the lookout tower where a man stands wearing binoculars around his neck and a sniper rifle over his shoulder, and the feeling of awe and beauty fades. Not even a place as sacred as this was untouched by the plague. I should be used to it by now, but sometimes I long for the day without all of this. That’s why I need Doc Klein.
“Welcome,” Croghan says.
Fifteen
“Did you hear that?” Darlene says. She speaks in a whisper. I can barely hear her, but I recognize the fear in her voice. The crowd of Wranglers are already heading down the slope of the land toward the constellation of small huts and wooden houses. The man on the watch tower gives a wave.
“What?” I say, walking up to Darlene. Her eyes dart around the beaten path. As the drifting voices of the Wranglers fall farther down the land, I focus in on the noises of the forest. Birds tweeting. The rustling of leaves. And — something else…
“It’s Bigfoot,” Norm says. “Don’t you — ”
“Quiet!” Croghan hisses.
I step forward, my heart hammering in my chest. It really never ends, does it? There’s always something, always a cannibal, a mad cowboy, or a zombie. I push Darlene back and grip my pistol. The sounds of footsteps breaking across the twig-littered forest fills my ears.
Snap. Shuffle shuffle. Snap.
“Dead-head?” Norm asks.
I nod. Him and I walk toward the sound, he has his gun in hand.
The sun is basically gone, the sky nothing but the last embers of a glowing fire. We cannot see much besides shadows, tree branches, and wild, overgrown shrubbery. My throat feels like it’s closing up. I don’t want to move forward, but I have to. I always have to, if not for myself then for my group, my family.
Norm points at his eyes then at the forest. He pulls his earlobe twice. My face screws up and I shake my head, What? I mouth.
He mimes shooting a gun at his temple. There’s the old Norm.
I walk past the tree line, peaking my head around a large hollowed-out trunk. There are no glowing eyes. No glint of gold coins. No sounds, either. And I’m not about to keep walking into the dark forest. I’ve read enough fairytales and seen enough horror films to know that is never the right choice.
“What?” Norm says a little louder.
“Nothing, I guess it went the other direction,” I say.
“Wow! You guys got zombie-proof fences?” Norm asks, sarcastically.
“The finest,” Croghan answers, not catching on.
Darlene and Abby are standing side by side. Herb looks around nervously.
“I can’t wait to show you what we’ve got,” Croghan continues. “Finest defense mechanisms from here to Timbuktu. Mother has done us proud.” I barely hear him because I’m thinking of the snap shuffle shuffle snap, the zombie-gait.
Darlene shakes her head at me and smiles uneasily, probably because Croghan wants us to let the zombie go. Her and I both know you should never let a zombie get away. Never. They always come back to…well, bite you.
“I’ll only show you on one condition,” Croghan says, “you tell our camp the story of how you survived Eden.”
I begin to move toward Darlene.
I’m about three steps away from her as her features go sour. Her mouth opens in a scream, but no sound comes out — or maybe I don’t hear it over the SNAP from a nearby tree branch. Herb’s thick arm comes up shaking and pointing at something behind me.
“Fuck!” Norm shouts.
Then Croghan is screaming.
I spin around, my revolver leveled and ready to take the shot before I even know the situation. My stomach clenches when I do see the situation. It’s not one I’d ever want to see. Two blood and dirt stained hands have wrapped themselves around Croghan’s neck. He also tries to scream and he’s able to muster up something that sounds like a dying moped engine. His own hands go to the zombie’s fingers, trying to pry them free as his weapon falls into the soft earth.
Darlene is screaming, now. I see Abby grab her out of the corner of my eye and try to shut her up. Noise, noise. It just attracts more.
The Dead Collection Box Set #1: Jack Zombie Books 1-4 Page 43