The Feral Children (Book 2): Savages

by Simpson, David A.

  He snatched the microphone and flung it against the wall. It still hissed with static and he felt the panic well up inside of him. What would they do if they found him? He should unplug it, maybe they were still tracking him. He snatched the radio off the table and flung it against the wall. The plug jerked out of the socket, the lights faded out but was that enough? Was the scratching coming from inside of it? He grabbed a chair and started smashing it, over and over until the wooden legs splintered, the metal case was crushed and the fragile components littered the floor. He pushed the sweat drenched hair out of his eyes and stood panting, looking at the broken radio. The busted chairs and table. The shattered furniture and the holes punched in the drywall. The room was a shambles, a hurricane had gone through it and he didn’t remember how it happened. He’d just wanted to unplug the radio. The scratching had finally stopped and his dad’s condescending voice was quiet for once.

  His fear turned to anger as he leaned against the wall and got his breathing under control. Those kids had interfered again. Somehow they had stopped him from joining the Society, from living in an opulent palace with undreamed of riches. The radio had said he could join the inner circle if he supplied them with dozens of workers and whole warehouses of food. Now they thought he’d tricked them, had ambushed them. He was innocent, he hadn’t done anything, and now they might come looking for him. Maybe he hadn’t unplugged the radio fast enough. Maybe they knew where he was. He had to find out what happened.

  His hands curled into fists. It was time. Time to teach those snotty brats a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget. He stared at the shattered remains of the radio one last time then marched up the stairs.

  24

  Tribe

  The tribe was anxious to get going. They had cleaned up the best they could, healed up as much as they were going to. The tractor sat idling and could barely be heard from a few yards away. With the extra muffler welded in place and fiberglass batting wrapped around the engine compartment, it was as quiet as a car. The blood in the trailer had been scrubbed clean and the sides were reattached. If the warehouse held food, they’d be able to haul enough in one load to last them for a long time.

  Weapons were checked. Blades were sharpened. Repaired armor was adjusted. They all needed new gear and the wagon would let them haul as much as they wanted. For the first time, Landon, Caleb and Clara didn’t complain when they were told they couldn’t go. The tribe had heaped praise on them for saving Murray, for stopping the Savage ones from eating him. They took their duty of protecting him seriously and had helped Donny grind down more screwdrivers. If they lost one in a fight, they didn’t want to have to use a can of beans again. They wanted backup weapons like the rest of the tribe.

  “We’ll be back. Anything else you need?” Kodiak the four on the porch.

  Murray sat with his capuchins, the triplets at his side. “Some peanut butter cups would be nice. Oh, and some Dr. Pepper, and some gummy bears. Some nuts for the capuchins would be great too. Don’t forget sunflower seeds, beef jerky and some hot Doritos. Remember to get AA batteries and any propane cylinders you can find. Also mac and cheese, a couple of axes, animal feed, some Fruit Roll-Ups and some new solar panels.”

  “Ok, ok, we get it.” Kodiak laughed. “It’s all on the list. We’ll see what we can do.”

  Clara spoke up. “And a new baby doll. Mine got destroyed.”

  The tribe headed out the gate with Kodiak behind the wheel. Murray was right, the tractor was easy to drive, no worse than a golf cart. Bob had shown them a lot more than a few gun tricks. Working with him those few days Murray had learned enough about cars that he was confident he could get one running if they towed one home. They could learn how to drive and that would change everything.

  The triplets waved until they were out of sight then dispersed to do their chores. The barn needed shoveling out. The manure had to be moved to the compost pile and fresh straw put in the stalls.

  Murray watched for a long time after they disappeared. He hadn’t told them about the dead soldiers they would find, he couldn’t think of a way to warn them without having a million questions thrown at him. If he told a little, he’d have to tell a lot. He’d written it all down in a diary, though. As much as he could remember. Bob had talked for hours and told him many things.

  As he rolled himself back inside, his stomach grumbled at the thought of all the sugary snacks he was craving. He didn’t notice the light glinting from a pair of binoculars.

  Vanessa and Harper ranged ahead of rest, Ziggy and Bert easily outdistancing the slow-moving tractor. They passed the stripped corpses of the undead that Bob had fought. A few tatters of cloth and stains on the road were all that remained. They stopped short of town, picketed their animals and approached on foot to recon the area while they waited for the others to catch up.

  A mile before the warehouse district, Swan signaled to Donny then separated from the group. She and the wolves took a shortcut through the woods and headed away from the riverfront. She’d volunteered to go after the supplies to repair their damaged armor. They needed leather straps and buckles to replace the stretchy elastic and the military surplus store was the best place to get everything they needed. Kodiak had started to protest about her going off on her own in town, but it was useless. She was stubborn and independent and would do what she wanted. She had the four wolves with her at any rate so he didn’t waste his breath.

  The twins loped along on the polar bears, easily keeping pace with the tractor and trailer as Donny and his panther brought up the rear. The little industrial part of town was quiet and empty. There were a few blocks of warehouses near the docks that held a refueling station for river traffic and not much else. In a few more years, if the town had kept gentrifying, this whole area would have been bulldozed and expensive riverfront condominiums would have been built. Now, Lowery’s Landing was only a few architectural drawing tucked in with the deeds of the warehouses Gordon’s father owned.

  While Kodiak and the girls maneuvered the trailer to the docks of the Independent Grocers distribution warehouse, Donny and Tobias went around to the front entrance. They thought they’d have to break open a door but somebody had already kicked in.

  “Wasn’t like this before.” Donny signed.

  They listened for any movement, shared a look then slipped inside. Zombies didn’t kick in doors, somebody else had been here. Maybe it had been Bob, loading up before he left town. They breathed deeply, tried to smell the rotting smell of the undead but the air was clean. Using their flashlights, they found the personnel door to warehouse area. Tobias banged his axe against the metal door. They were met with silence. They waited for the keening of the undead. They waited for the rattle of items displaced by the shuffling corpses. Nothing happened. It was deserted.

  They slipped inside, made their way past row after row of industrial shelves full of plastic wrapped pallets that went all the way to the ceiling. They rolled up a loading dock door and sunlight poured, illuminating the labels. Rice. Soup. Shampoo. Vegetables. Paper towels. Cups. Books. Anything and everything that would be found in grocery stores.

  Donny tapped the concrete with his spear, drew Tobias’ attention away from the gold mine of supplies. Away from pallet after pallet of food, enough for years. He was pointing at a huge puddle of blood near a fork truck that had mostly dried but was still barely tacky. It wasn’t very old, no more than a few weeks. Stacked neatly next to it was a bunch of military guns. M-4’s if he remembered right. They looked just like the ones in Call of Duty.

  “I think Bob was here.” Tobias said when he walked out on the dock. “We found blood.”

  “We found the bodies.” Analise said and indicated a jumble of ragged black clothes and a scattering of bones. “Whoever killed them drug them outside, left them for the savage ones.”

  They double checked the building but whoever had been here was long gone and they relaxed.

  “Whatever you do, don’t open those doors.” Kodiak said and p
ointed to a silver metal wall on the far end. “That’s the refrigerator, it’s gotta be maggot central with all that spoiled meat.”

  They ignored the stacks of useless TV’s and other electronics and tore into a pallet of candy bars. Ants and other insects had already been in some of the boxes, but there were thousands still left to choose from. They tossed aside the ones the bugs had gotten into and tore into the chocolate goodness of the undamaged ones. Sugar buzzed, they laughed and stuffed their pockets with all they would hold.

  Tobias and Analise wandered deeper into the warehouse. Popsicle and Daisy ambled behind them, sniffing at the different pallets. His sharp claws made short work of the plastic shrink wrapped around a pallet of marshmallows and they tore into the cardboard shipping boxes. He gulped down the sugary sweets, plastic bag and all. Daisy joined him and they devoured twenty pounds of marshmallows in just a couple of minutes.

  “We should save some of those before that pig you call a bear eats them all. Grab some more chocolate bars and graham crackers and make S’mores with the little kids. We could use a little celebration after what we went through.” Analise suggested.

  Tobias ignored her. He was rummaging through a box of cheap Chinese made toys and turned to her with a grin. He held his hand behind his back and faced his twin with a devilish smile.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you.” He teased.

  “What is it?” She eyed her brother warily. She knew better than to trust him when he had that look on his face.

  “This!” Tobias swung his hand around quickly and squeezed the trigger. The Nerf dart popped her right between the eyes. He burst out in laughter when she glared at him.

  “Give me one of those.” She said.

  He handed her another one of the guns and a pack of darts and she snuck off in search of Donny. She hadn’t said anything to anyone but she was drawn to the silent boy. She’d caught him staring at her a few times then quickly pretended like he wasn’t. She knew what that meant. He liked her. It made her feel good inside because she might like him too. He was always kind and thoughtful, but vicious in a fight. A lover and a fighter, she mused. She wasn’t sure what those feelings were, but she figured a little harmless play couldn’t hurt anything. She’d shoot him, he’d chase her and if he caught her? She blushed at the thought.

  Kodiak looked at the thousands of square feet of supplies and wondered about the dead men. Somebody knew this was here, had done their killing and made sure the bodies didn’t stay inside to rot. Bob, most likely. Murray wanted a complete listing of everything in the warehouse but that wasn’t going to happen. It would take hours. He’d jot some stuff down so he’d have something to show. He looked at the shipping label on a pallet of green beans to see if it had a count of how many were in it. That would give them an idea of how long a pallet would last. He did a double take when he saw Lowery Shipping and Distribution. He frowned. Had Gordon known about this place? Why hadn’t he told them when they were still trying to get along? Had his gang done the killing or were they the scattered bones? There wasn’t enough left of any of the bodies to tell anything about them.

  He heard the sound of running feet, dropped the clipboard and gripped his Warhammer tightly. Zombies? Analise darted past giggling madly, shot him with a Nerf gun and disappeared down a shadowy aisle. Donny was in hot pursuit with a gun in each hand and ran to the next aisle to cut her off. He relaxed his grip and smiled. Leave it to the twins to find some mischief to get into.

  Tobias came skidding around the corner and fired a dart at Kodiak. He dodged it easily. Tobias tossed him a packaged shooter and a few more at the girls.

  “Every man for himself.” He said and fired a dart point blank into Vanessa’s chest.

  “Oh, you’re dead now!” Harper yelled as she ripped the cardboard off her gun and started loading the darts.

  Kodiak frowned at all the noise they were making. There wasn’t time for this. There was too much work to be done and they were too exposed in town. He started to yell at Tobias and tell him to quit being such a child but then it hit him. Tobias was a child and so was he. He was so worried about tomorrow, he wasn’t living for today and it was exhausting. What could it hurt to unwind for a little while with his friends? They’d seen no zombies on the trip to town. There were multiple escape routes, plenty of places to hide and they could always swim if they had to, they were right on the river. The huge warehouse would absorb the noise they made and what the heck, it was good training. The zoo would still be there. The piles of dung and the destroyed fields. The undead at the gate. None of it was going anywhere and Gordon was probably sitting on a couch eating Cheetos far away. He let the tension slide away from him. Just for a few minutes, he promised himself.

  “You’re on!” Kodiak said and closed the overhead door, shutting out the sun and shutting in the noise. The little bit of light coming through the tiny windows left the place shadowy and gloomy, the back corners pitched in utter darkness. He smiled, leaned his hammer against a pallet and stuffed his pockets with extra ammo.

  They spent the next hour forgetting what was outside the walls of the warehouse. The fears and worries slipped to the back of their minds. A few breathless kisses were exchanged in the deep shadows, fumbling hands accidentally brushed second base and laughter echoed through the building. The rows of pallets made great ambush points. Several hundred foam darts littered the floors in testimony to the fierce battle that was waged. The pain from the wounds inflicted in the battle with the Savage Ones were dulled by the joy of kids being kids. The worries of surviving tomorrow were pushed aside and the thrill of living for the moment took their place. Donny was kicking all their asses, he kept jumping from rack to rack and attacking them from above. Their return fire hit nothing until they coordinated an attack, led him out in the open and hammered him with dozens of foam darts.

  Kodiak finally called a cease fire and opened a case of juice boxes. There was still work to do but he had a pretty good idea of the warehouse layout. They’d be able to get everything on Murray’s list quickly and fill the rest of the wagon with whatever they wanted. Old Mur was probably sitting on the porch watching for them, salivating at the thought of a big bag of chocolate and a warm Dr. Pepper.

  It was a good day, a good haul, and the guns from the dead guys were a good find. Murray would have a book with instructions on how to maintain them. With the tractor, they could carry more in one load than they could in ten using the lawn cart and wheelbarrows. One more trip before winter and they’d be set, living like kings. Now that he knew there was plenty of food, the next trip they’d get building supplies. Next week they’d have new doors and windows and freshly fixed walls. He’d never been to the building supply store but they’d probably have all the tools and everything else they needed to fix up the old house before it got cold again.

  “Lead the way,” he told Donny as he fired up the tractor.

  Everything was loaded and strapped, the warehouse was closed up tight and he was a little surprised Swan hadn’t shown up yet.

  25

  Swan

  Swan slipped into the adventure store and held the door for her wolves. She’d told the tribe she would get what they needed to repair and improve their armor but there was also something else she had to do. She was following a hunch about Gordon. She’d snorted when they warned her about the undead and ignored their concerns about the savage ones. She was out in the wild every week, sometimes for days. She could take care of the zombies and she hoped and prayed the wounded hyena would show its face. She hoped his mouth got so infected and swollen he couldn’t eat. She hoped he starved to death.

  They’d followed the bloody path of the savage ones to find out how they got in and found a few of them too injured to go on and put them down. They filled the burrowed holes with rocks and dirt then staked the bottom of the fence tightly to the ground for yards in both directions. Her tomahawk had worked its way loose from the hyena’s mouth and was laying in the weeds halfway across the field. It
was gross, slimy with the hunchback’s bloody slobber, but she was glad to get it back.

  She tore open a few MRE’s to feed her pack and gnawed on a peanut butter bar as they ate cold chili mac. She laid the compound bow on top of a pile of mismatched military camos in the archery section and refilled her quiver with arrows. She tried to find every one she shot, there wasn’t an endless supply of them, but wasn’t always successful. The aluminum shafts were tough, but a strike off of bone or an errant shot that hit a tree would bend the shafts and render them useless. She thought about Gordon while she threaded broad heads into each of the arrows. Why had he been here that day the virus consumed the town? Why not the bank, or the town hall, or one of the trendy restaurants around the square? He always bragged about being from a gated town up north, so why was Mr. Snootypants slumming in an army navy store?

  She slid the last arrow into her quiver then grabbed a backpack. She stuffed it with every leather belt and most of the hard plastic armor they had. Hockey and soccer pads. Wrist braces from roller bladers and knee pads from soldiers. Satisfied her duty to the tribe was finished, she walked towards the rear of the store. She’d never ventured to the back section, there had been no need to; clothes her size and the archery section were near the front. The display cabinet with the knives that she’d taken her tomahawks from was right by the cash register at the front door.

  Mice skittered away as the beam of her flashlight fell over their tiny forms. Zero’s ears perked up at the little intruders, but a warning growl from Swan refocused his attention. She loved the playful side of the big wolf, but this was a hunt and there was no time for playing when the stakes were so high.

  She passed mannequins wearing surplus gas masks and World War II uniforms as she approached the door that led into rear section of the store and the manager’s office. The flashlight picked up the claw marks in the wood and there was a musty, foul odor that permeated the place. Zero startled her when he sneezed and shook his big head, tried to clear his nose of the disturbing smell. She stroked his ears, more to calm her own nerves than for his benefit and panned the light around the large room.