Z-Burbia Box Set | Books 4-6 [The Road Trip Trilogy]

by Bible, Jake

  “Whoa! Hold on!” Dr. McCormick shouts as she comes stomping up to us. “We still have people that are not even close to ready to travel. If we get stuck out in the cold in cramped quarters, and some of them relapse, then we run the risk of another outbreak. Not everyone came down with it the first time. We push this too soon, and I can guarantee that those that didn’t get sick before will get sick later.”

  “That is a risk we have to take,” Lourdes says.

  “Why’s that?” Stuart asks. “What’s going on, Lourdes?”

  “Yeah, what’s up?” Buzz asks, joining the growing throng of worried survivors.

  “Jace? You care to fill them in?” Lourdes says. “I need to get the ball rolling on the fuel situation.”

  “Sure, have me break the bad news,” I sigh. “Give everyone another reason to get all up in Jace’s face.”

  “Shut up, Short Pork,” Critter says. “No one likes a whiner.”

  “Just tell us what’s going on,” Stuart says.

  “Fine,” I say. “Here’s the deal.”

  And I tell them.

  WE ARE LUCKY TO GET enough fuel to fill up five of the RVs, which means we only have to leave three. Still sucks, but it’s better than leaving four. Not that five RVs is really enough space. Even with most of them stripped of all furnishings and pretty much bare, quarters are going to be seriously cramped. We didn’t have the addition of the cannies with us before, since they had their own vehicles, but now they are jammed in with us.

  “How much do you believe Kramer?” Stella asks me. “And no smart ass response. I want to know what your gut is saying.”

  “My gut is saying that I better go take a shit before getting on the road,” I say. The punch to my chest is fast and hard. “Ow. Okay, sorry, I deserve that.”

  “Be serious, Jace,” Stella says.

  I can hear the fear in her voice, and I take a deep breath.

  “I think he’s right,” I say. “As much as I would rather not admit that, my gut says he’s right. The only reason El would disappear is if it meant protecting us.”

  “But why stay quiet?” Stella asks. “She could have told us.”

  “Would you have let her go?” I ask.

  “No, but she’s a grown woman,’ Stella replies. “She can do what she wants.”

  “If you had told her to stay, then she would have stayed. You know El and the ‘family’ thing. Disappointing you is the last thing she wants to do.”

  “But scaring me to fucking death by going off alone is okay?” Stella snaps.

  “Hey, I’m not happy about it, either,” I say. “Trust me, when she gets back she’s getting quite the talking to.”

  “LOAD UP, PEOPLE!” Lourdes yells as she shoves the barn doors open. “WE ARE LEAVING NOW!”

  “So much for that last minute shit,” I say.

  “Holy crap,” Charlie says as he and Greta walk up next to us. “Is that snow?”

  “That’s what they call it, genius,” Greta says.

  “Be nice,” Stella growls. “I am not in the mood for your shit.”

  “Told ya,” John says as he walks by us, his sniper rifle over his shoulder, and a smirk on his face.

  “So?” I call after him. “You think that makes you special or something?”

  “Yes!” John yells back before he hops on one of the RVs that are idling just outside the barn.

  We, the Mighty Stanfords, walk out into the cold wind and stare up at the grey sky that is spitting light snow down on us.

  “Doesn’t look too bad,” I say.

  “Uh, Dad?” Charlie says, and taps me on the shoulder. “Look behind us.”

  I turn and gulp.

  “Oh,” I say. “That’s not good.”

  The sky to the east is filled with nothing but dark, thick clouds. The horizon is hazy with approaching snow.

  “Good thing we were ready to go,” Critter says, suddenly next to me. “That’s one bad storm. If we’d stayed another night we’d be buried by it. Right now we might have a chance of outrunning it.”

  “If we can find more fuel,” I say. “Otherwise, we may end up buried in it anyway.”

  “That’s true,” Critter says. “But wouldn’t be my first time I was snowbound in an RV with a bunch of people I don’t like.”

  He walks off and finds his RV, leaving us Stanfords to ourselves again as the rest of the survivors file past.

  “Dad?” Greta asks. “Doesn’t that mean Elsbeth could be stuck in that?”

  “Yeah, sweetheart, it does,” I say. “But you know El. She’ll be fine. She’ll be just fine.”

  Sure. She’ll be just fine.

  Chapter Three

  The snow isn’t too heavy as we roll on down the road, our five RVs loaded with equipment and people making them heavy enough to keep from slip sliding away. I’m in the lead RV with Critter, Lourdes, Stuart, and my family, with Buzz driving. There are a few more people in the vehicle, but they’re all cannies, and I don’t really know them.

  Except for that Rafe kid. Who keeps staring at my daughter. I am not liking this Rafe kid. Not liking him at all.

  You know the joke about the overprotective dad with a shotgun? Ready to blow away any ill-intentioned suitors that approach his daughter? Well, normally, back in the old world pre-Z, that was just said as jest amongst fathers. But, guess what? This isn’t pre-Z. And I actually have a shotgun. A double-barrel, sawed-off shotgun that is fully loaded. And not with rock salt. There is no rock salt in this motherfucker.

  “Dad, stop,” Greta whispers to me as we all huddle together on the floor of the RV. “You’re acting all creepy.”

  “He’s the one acting all creepy,” I reply. “He’s looking at you like you’re a piece of meat. Fucking creepy canny kid.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think he wants to eat her the way you’re thinking,” Charlie laughs, then sees my face and shuts up real fucking fast. “Sorry.”

  “You think this is a joke?” I snap, and a few heads look my way. “What?”

  “Jace, calm down,” Stella says. “He’s just a teenage boy.”

  “No, he’s a cannibal teenage boy,” I correct. “Teenage boys are bad enough, but when you add the word ‘cannibal’? Then we’re talking about a father’s worst nightmare.”

  “Dad, I think he’s a freak,” Greta says. “He can stare all he wants, but he’s not getting anything from me, okay? Just fucking relax.”

  “I’ll relax when he stops staring at you,” I growl.

  “You guys know I can hear you, right?” Rafe asks. “We can all hear you.”

  “You can?” I ask, looking at the less than pleased faces around us.

  “Yeah, Short Pork,” Critter says from up front. “So shut that stupid trap of yours! You’re giving me a damn headache!”

  “We should talk about our next move,” Lourdes says as she and Stuart sit down next to us.

  A few cannies have to scoot over, but they have learned not to argue or mess with either Lourdes or Stuart over the past few weeks. Not that the two of them have been heavy handed, just that they’ve proven themselves over and over again during our less than fun times in Nashville and in Louisville. You want to gain canny respect? Rip a few heads off, and wipe out a couple dozen Zs with your bare hands.

  The cannies leave Lourdes and Stuart alone.

  “The weather is going to get worse before it gets better,” Stuart says. “It’ll make it harder to scavenge for supplies and fuel.”

  “I thought we were trying to outrun the storm?” I ask.

  “We are,” Lourdes replies. “But we need a contingency plan in case we can’t.”

  “A contingency plan would have been staying in that barn,” Stella says. “We could have scavenged the area from there and waited out the storm.”

  “No, we couldn’t,” Lourdes replies. “You have to remember that it’s been years since most structures in this land were maintained. I had a couple of my guys check out the structural integrity of that barn, and they
think it had a fifty-fifty chance of holding up against a big snowstorm. Fifty-fifty doesn’t work for me.”

  “Plus we have the issue of whoever skinned those people in that house,” Stuart adds. “We could have been sitting right where they wanted us.”

  “Or it could have just been a dispute between crazies,” Stella counters. “And they would have left us alone.”

  “All possible,” Stuart says. “But are you willing to risk everyone’s lives by leaning towards the optimistic possible, or the pessimistic possible? Is that what you want then? Maybe safe or maybe dead?”

  “I’m just saying that this is something we should have discussed back there,” Stella says.

  “There weren’t no time, Stella,” Critter says as he spins the passenger seat around and looks back at us. “I seen some bad storms in my time, and this is a bad storm. The best choice was to high tail it out of there. Crazies or no crazies, that barn wasn’t going to hold up against what’s coming. We need somethin’ a little more solid.”

  “So what are you guys thinking?” I ask. “We find an exit and look for a Sam’s Club or Costco?”

  “Those will be too obvious,” Lourdes says. “Even if there aren’t squatters already, buildings like that are a target just for being what they used to be. No, we need something more municipal.”

  “Please don’t say a jail,” Charlie says. “Jails are a bad idea.”

  “A school might work,” Stella says. “Most of them are built with concrete block because of fire code. And this is almost Tornado Alley, so they should have large storm shelters as well.”

  “A school might be good, but they were also evac points when Z-Day hit,” Lourdes replies. “A few may still hold the Zs.”

  “After all of these years?” I ask. “Even if Zs were trapped in there, they’d be bones by now, right?”

  Lourdes and Stuart share a look that none of us miss.

  “Might as well spill it,” Stella sighs. “What’s really going on?”

  “You know I send recon scouts out all the time, right?” Lourdes asks. “Well, since we’ve left Asheville and Tennessee, they are seeing more and more Zs that aren’t exactly conforming to the norm.”

  “Which Norm? Norm MacDonald or Norm from Cheers?” I laugh. No one else does. “I’ll shut up.”

  “You do that, Short Pork,” Critter smirks.

  “Fuck and you, old man,” I mumble.

  “The Zs aren’t rotting like they did in the first year or so,” Lourdes says. “They’re also getting faster. It’s like their bodies are adapting.”

  “Adapting to what?” I ask. “I agree with the faster part, I saw them back at the camp when we lost the RVs. There were more than a couple that moved a little too spryly for my taste.”

  “Spry Zs suck,” Charlie says.

  “Amen to that,” I agree.

  “I think Kramer has an idea about what’s happening to them,” Stuart says. “But the fucker won’t talk. That’s another reason we want to find someplace secure to hunker down in.”

  “It’s not just this storm, but the Zs we’re worried about,” Lourdes says. “We get everyone safe, then we sit Dr. Kramer down and find out exactly what he knows.”

  “And we can send people out to look for Elsbeth,” I say. “Good idea.”

  “We aren’t sending people out for her,” Lourdes says. “We don’t have the resources to search for one woman in a snowstorm.”

  “She’s more than one woman,” I say. “She’s—.”

  “She’s family,” Greta growls.

  “Actually, what I was going to say is that she’s Camille Thornberg’s daughter, and a full on badass that has saved all of our lives more than once,” I continue. Kids, man, why they got to be interruptin’, yo? “She’s also the only person Kramer is even remotely afraid of. Once he learned that his mind control doesn’t work on her anymore, he adjusted his attitude faster than a something about prom dresses and virginity.”

  “Really?” Charlie asks.

  “I’m tired,” I sigh. “The jokes aren’t coming like I want.”

  “Maybe you should have gotten them drunk,” Rafe says. “That’s the best way to get a joke to come.”

  All eyes turn to the canny kid.

  “That was funny,” Charlie says. “Gross, but funny.”

  “It was stupid,” Greta says, but I swear I see a twinkle in her eye.

  Fuck! No twinkle! Twinkle is not good!

  “Yeah, it was stupid,” I say. “Good call, Greta. This guy is stupid with his stupid dirty jokes.”

  “Jace, honey, just be quiet,” Stella says then looks at Lourdes. “So, we find someplace safe. What about a courthouse? Built to last and be secure, probably not an evac point for any region when there are plenty of schools around, and they always have basements for storage.”

  “That’s what we were thinking,” Lourdes says.

  “A courthouse is like a jail,” Charlie says, shaking his head. “Jails are a bad idea. Easy to get locked up in our own sanctuary.”

  “Look who’s all gloom and doom today,” Greta says. “What’s with you and jails?”

  “I’ve heard a few things from some of the cannies,” Charlie says.

  “They make great meat lockers,” Rafe shrugs. “Just sayin’.”

  “See!” Charlie exclaims. “Jails bad!”

  “If there is a small jail in the courthouse, then we’ll disable the cell doors so they can’t be locked on us if things go south,” Lourdes says.

  “Do we expect them to go south?” I ask. Wow, talk about looks of pity. Tough crowd. “Right, they always go south. Got it.”

  “Map,” Stuart says as he unfolds a map of Illinois and flattens it on the floor. “The next town we’ll be coming to is Mt. Vernon. It’s not that big and is the county seat, so it should have a courthouse.”

  “Uh, why do you have a map of Illinois?” I ask. “We’re in Missouri.”

  “Dad, we haven’t gotten to Missouri yet,” Greta says.

  “Oh, I thought we had,” I say. “My bad.”

  “Missouri is close,” Stuart says. “Which is another reason to stop soon. Once we hit the true plains, then we’ll be sitting ducks. We need to have as much gear as possible, and all of our ducks in a row.”

  “It’s easier to get ducks in a row when they are sitting,” I say.

  “Hush,” Stella says.

  “Mt. Vernon is also high ground for the area,” Lourdes says. “There’s a lot of water and swamp land around, so it’ll make it harder for Z herds to get to us, and we’ll also have a better view if crazies decide to make a play.”

  “This sounds like we’re going to be there a while,” I say. I look over at Critter because I know he will not bullshit me. “Crit? What’s up?”

  “Winter, Short Pork, that’s what’s up,” Critter says. “Travelin’ is one thing, travelin’ across the plains in the middle of winter is a whole other.”

  I look at Stuart. “So, when you meant getting our ducks in a row, you were talking about springtime ducks, weren’t you?”

  “If needed,” Stuart says. “Maybe the winter storms won’t be so bad, and we can leave around February. But you saw how long it took to get from Cannibal Road to here. More than a month, Jace. We won’t last a month in the plains, not with how things are going. We’re down to five RVs, and we’ve lost a shit ton of people already. And that’s without a blizzard nipping at our asses.”

  We all let that settle for a second. The plan from the start has been to get to Kansas City first, verify if it is a dead zone like Kramer says, then move on to Colorado and The Stronghold. The faster we get there, the more people we’ll have left to even make it worth it. We aren’t doing so hot so far.

  Oh, and there is one more thing...

  “What about the sisters?” I ask. “Kramer is pretty sure they are now under Camille’s control.”

  “We’ll stand a better chance of defending ourselves if we can dig in,” Lourdes says. “Stuart and I have t
alked about this. We’ll lose a lot more people if they catch us out in the open.”

  “But we’ll have a better shot at escaping,” I say. “If we are dug in, like you two say, then we are pretty much trapping ourselves.”

  “Jace, they are the professionals,” Stella says. “The reason Lourdes is in charge is because of situations just like this. And Stuart has more years as a Marine than almost all the PCs combined.”

  “Jesus, Stella, how old do you think I am?” Stuart grumbles.

  “I spent a bit of time with an M16 in my hand, ya know,” Critter says. “And for the damn record, I was put in charge of this group of morons, even though I tried to turn it down and you dumbshits wouldn’t let me.”

  “I’ll take the job,” Rafe smiles.

  “I’d rather Boyd was in charge than a canny like you,” Critter replies.

  Everyone laughs. I don’t get it.

  I really wish someone would tell me who the fuck this Boyd guy is instead of everyone always saying that I know who this Boyd guy is. I do not know who this Boyd guy is. I will swear that now. I. Do. Not. Know. Who. This. Boyd. Guy. Is.

  “Listen, Short Pork, I don’t feel so great about hiding like a bunch of scared ducks,” Critter says.

  “What’s with the duck metaphors?” Charlie asks.

  “But,” Critter sighs. “The lady soldier here has pretty much shown she knows how to keep us alive.”

  “Most of us,” Greta says.

  “Which is why I think we should listen to her, and Stuart, too, since he’s jabbering the same thing, and get us to that courthouse,” Critter says. “I do have one stipulation, though.”

  “Which is?” Lourdes asks.

  “If we get there, and things ain’t as rosy as they should be, then we bust ass and keep movin’,” Critter replies.

  “There is no way to quantify ‘rosy’, Critter,” Lourdes says.

  “I think we’ll know it when we see it,” Stuart says. “I hear where you’re coming from, Crit. If our guts say to keep going, then we keep going.”