Ally shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. Everyone wanted her to fix things, make it better, safer, find food, keep them alive. Never mind each day was a struggle for her. That each night she dreamed of Marcus, her dead fiancé. That the only reason she was able to go on so many scavenging missions was because she had a stash of drugs to calm her ass down.
She unclenched her fist. "I understand, Neal, and I'm working on it. But a trip that long takes planning, supplies, and to be honest it's time for us to move as well. I did speak with a guy last week who had some information but I lost the signal. I'm going to try and catch him tonight. I'll fill you guys in next week. Until then, stay alert."
Ally heard them sign off. She pushed the microphone away and watched the screen in front of her. Nothing had popped up on it for almost four months. They'd rationed where they directed power, the radio winning out since satellites were nothing but space trash without guiding hands to correct their courses.
"Ally, how'd it go?"
She leaned the chair backward and titled her head. Kevin Walsh stood there, tall and handsome. He didn’t fit in. Six feet tall with a fair complexion and blue eyes, he was the epitome of health...now. When they'd first found him she didn’t think he'd make it through the night, he was so malnourished. He was one of the many rescues from the salvage runs. One of the few who wanted to pull his weight. The first to volunteer for any mission, and the first to be turned down because of his inexperience. She smiled while making a gun shape with her fingers and holding it to her temple.
"That good?" He smiled and took the seat next to her.
"Those numbers are discouraging. New York has lost over sixty percent of its population and…"
Ally grabbed the notepad and pointed to the map. "We have other problems. We've lost contact with over half of the surviving groups out there. Neal didn't report about San Francisco, so either he had nothing from them, or…"
"Or he forgot. Morale is low, Ally. People are more concerned with their own safety. And this daisy chain of communication makes things a lot harder." Kevin pushed the map away as he leaned back in the chair. "I just wish we had more range."
Ally stretched while she stood. She took her time walking to the coffee machine. Thoughts swirled in her head, most of them nonsense. She tossed some of the brown powder in a mug and waited for it to hydrate. The military-grade liquid was potent enough to fuel a truck, but for now she would use it to stay awake and keep the demons at bay.
Returning to the table she saw Kevin wipe a grim expression from his face. His halfhearted attempt at a smile would have been appreciated by most of the women down the hall, but Ally ignored it. Getting attached to people was a waste of time and energy. Next week she might be tossing his body in the pit or ramming something through his head.
"Ally, there's something else. I heard the conversation…the rise in suicides. How many have we had? Our population is much larger, and therefore…"
With a sigh she sat and looked at the blank screen. "In the last month we've confirmed nineteen. The number is rising. People are improvising."
Kevin blew out a breath. "That's why you took away the guns from the guards."
Ally laughed. "Hardly, the damn things weren't even loaded. We've got enough ammunition to maybe fill four weapons. Noah and I made the call to take them away based on the out-of-sight out-of-mind theory. That's not working."
Kevin reached toward her, and then pulled his hand back. "You know if you ever want to talk, or take a break, I can help. You can trust me."
The sincerity in his voice made her sad and angry at the same time. She nodded, not knowing what else to do. When was the last time she'd trusted someone? Didn't all of her friends die? Kevin was a good guy. She didn't want anything to happen to him. That meant keeping her distance. She'd already screwed up by letting Sean get close, but he didn't press her to talk about anything.
"Thanks, Kev. Why don't you go and make sure people are eating or doing whatever it is they do. See if Ben needs any help. I'm going to clock some more hours on the radio, try and make contact with someone."
He stood with a sad smile and left. She shook off the feeling of guilt. It was better this way, because everyone she cared about died. She was doing him a service.
Grabbing the microphone, she pressed the XMIT.
"This is Ally Lane out of Washington, DC. Does anyone copy? I repeat, this is Washington, DC. Does anyone copy?"
She relaxed her hand and listened to the hiss of static fill the room. Eyeing the coffee warily, she prepared for a long night.
* * *
"This is Daniel, anyone there?"
Ally bolted up and grabbed the mic. "Daniel, I copy, this is DC. What is your location?"
Almost a full minute passed and Ally began to worry that she'd imagined the voice.
"Hey, DC. I'm in Raleigh, now. Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I had to move pretty fast."
Ally grabbed her notepad, knocking her coffee cup over in the process. Last week when she spoke with the mysterious man he'd offered a glimmer of hope; at least the others would see it that way.
"Glad to hear you made it. Are you safe now? How many people are with you?"
"I guess so…crap, hold on." Daniel went silent. "Sorry, the people I'm with are trying to figure out how to set up our defenses. I keep trying to explain it's pointless. We're in a damn boat."
Ally stiffened. "Steer clear of the water. Trust me. It's bad for your health. What is your supply status?"
"I heard that water rumor, but at the moment the land is crawling with zombies."
Ally flattened out the paper she was writing on. Daniel talked a lot, but didn't actually give up much information. She didn't know if he was rattled by his situation or being evasive on purpose.
"How many people are in your group? Do you have a plan? Last week you mentioned something about a place we could go." Ally was torn, part of her wanted to have options since they'd exhausted their current resources, but she was wary of trusting strangers.
"When things calm down, we hope to head inland, make a supply run, find a vehicle and head west. The problem doesn't seem to be as bad out there."
Ally waited a moment to respond. More and more questions popped into her head. How did Daniel know these things? How could he act so casual about everything he needed to do? Why did he refuse to say how many survivors were with him? Who else was he talking to?
"I don't think it's going to be that simple. There are a lot of things to…"
"Listen, DC, I don't know you other than your location, which you might be lying about. You have yet to tell me about your numbers or plans. If you want me to share information, you need to offer some in return. Right now I need to go and help out my people. I'll contact you in a few days."
Ally squeezed the button, ready to rip him a new one when she realized he was right. She'd been treating him like the enemy, interrogating him. Christ, how could she have been so stupid?
"Smooth, Ally. You did really well there. You better hope he gets in touch or I'm going to have fun for the first time since the world went to hell."
She turned to see the gaunt face of Joseph Erdman. The man who would have been president if he hadn't have been backed by a bunch of crazies looking for nuclear weapons to take out the countries with power, and of course there was that irritating zombie issue.
"Joseph, I have no idea what your problem is. I'd swear you're crazy, but given the circumstances, I think everyone is entitled to act a bit nuts right now."
He walked over to the coffee machine, taking a double serving. Rations didn't apply to him she guessed, and no one was about to say anything. The suit he wore, at one time well fitted, was now covered in grime, worn through at the elbows, and he stank. His dark hair had grown over the collar of his jacket and in the front it fell into his eyes. His neat goatee now resembled a tangle of hair and bits of things she'd rather not think about. This was the man that the people of America were supposed to look
up to.
"My problem is that I went from being a respected Firm leader to…to…nothing. A specter that wanders the halls. I hear the whispers; I know what you think. You deserve to live like this. I don't."
Ally glanced at the clock. She made a note reminding herself to be there each night until Daniel contacted them again. She got to her feet and walked toward Joseph.
"No one deserves to live like this, not even an arrogant prick like you. Damn. For a while there I thought you might turn out to be an okay guy, but you're just an asshole. What happened to you?"
She brushed by him not waiting for a response. Checking on Sean was more important than dealing with this idiot.
Chapter Three
The group in front of her was ranked in order from best to worst. Able-bodied men and women with enough strength to hold a weapon. Noah and Ben were teaching them how to make use of makeshift weapons they could find with ease. Broken pipes, shards of metal, chunks of rock. She was about to join in when she caught sight of something that made her stomach drop.
Sean stood in the front row, wrestling with a piece of pipe. Ally marched toward him, but Noah stopped her. "Ally, glad you're here. I could use your help. You have pointers to give to these people that might save their lives."
With a quick glare at Sean, she turned. "Of course. First thing, make sure you can handle your weapon of choice. Sean, that rebar is at least a foot and a half too long for you. Find something more suitable. Mary, that chunk of rock is more likely to break your arms than a skull."
For the next hour, Ally, with Noah and Ben at her side, went through and inspected their "army" and helped them make better decisions on their improvised weapons, and showed them how to use them effectively. When she felt they had enough practice, she sent for Kevin; it was time to put them in a situation as close to zombie-fighting as possible.
"Alright folks, Kevin and Noah are going to be zombies. Ben is going to observe and give pointers. I want you to pair off and defend yourselves."
The group widened into a circle, making room in the center. Sean stepped out first with a woman whom Ally judged to be in her early twenties. Kevin lunged for them, and the girl quickly pushed away with a scrap of metal. Noah ambled toward Sean, who still held his pipe too high, Ally noted. By the time he brought it down, he'd been tagged. With slumped shoulders, the kid returned to the side. The girl realized she was on her own and moved to slash Kevin's neck. He raised his hand, catching the blow as he moved aside. Noah leered at her as he charged. She repeated the same move and Noah took it on the shoulder, tagging her out when he got within an inch of her.
"Okay folks, things to remember. These zombies are not the kind you remember from old movies. Remember what it was like out there? They learn, adapt, anticipate, and plan. You need to keep moving, don't give them a chance to get close, and if all else fails…run your ass off. Now, in your pairs, alternate who plays the attacker and who's the...victim."
Ally motioned for Kevin and Noah to watch the group, giving out tips on balancing themselves before a strike, reacting under pressure instead of giving in, when to flee, and the quickest way to take down a foe and save energy. They all knew if they had to evacuate to another location, they needed as many fighters as possible. After an hour of observation, she determined maybe half of them would survive a small group of zombies; the others would be lucky if they held their own against one. And that was assuming they didn't run into a group of the hard-to-kill bastards.
"Ally, will you be my partner? People keep tagging me out."
She looked down at Sean's pale face. "Sure, but you need to use something like this." She went to the table along the front of the room and unlocked a case. Pulling out a machete, she handed it to the young boy. She walked over to a small space and turned to him. "Now, attack me."
He held the sharp blade in shaking hands. "But I don't want to hurt you."
She smirked. "If you can hurt me, consider yourself ready."
His tongue snuck out and wet his lower lip. He moved his hand around, testing the weight of the blade. After a few practice swipes, he put a serious expression on his face and assumed a defensive position.
They went back and forth until both were covered in a sheen of sweat. He hadn't gotten remotely close to her, and the failure was etched all over his sad face.
"You did good, Sean. Not many people can keep up with me. A few more sessions like this and you'll be ready." She winked at him as she put the machete away.
"Really? I know I can do better. All I need is practice. I got close a few times, right?"
She didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. "Yeah, a few times, but you do need practice. Outside these walls, there's no such thing as being too prepared. Now, let's get you something to eat."
The others in the room had cleared out an hour before, so by the time they got to the food line there wasn't much of a wait. Ally accepted her portion of vitamin-laden water and a bowl of protein paste. Sean reached for his and followed behind her. As usual, she only took a few sips of her drink and a couple of bites of the food. The rest went to the boy. Since she was one of the few people who went on outings, she received certain perks. More food and energy boosts were among them.
A tinny voice came out of a loud speaker. "Lights out in ten minutes."
Sean sighed. "They're turning them off earlier every day."
"We have to watch our power usage. Find your friends and try to get some sleep. You'll need the energy for practice tomorrow."
"Okay."
She watched him scamper off, thinking about the future. The underground installation they were in wasn't suitable for long term living, let alone somewhere a kid should grow up. She pushed away from the table and let her mind wander while she made her way to the radio room. The outside world wasn't much of a place either. Polluted beyond belief, no land to farm within hundreds of miles, and of course, the infestation of the dead. Always, the dead.
"Lane, we need more supplies. When can you and your buddy go out again?"
She looked at Victor and wondered how he managed to wait so long to send her on another outing. Each time she left, his eyes glinted. She knew he was hoping she wouldn't return.
"There's nothing left within two hundred miles of here."
Victor crossed his arms. "Bullshit. You're just scared. Now get your ass topside. People are hungry."
He turned on her and anger bubbled up inside. "Listen up, you arrogant prick. Noah and I have scoured every possible location. We've lost over thirty people going on these trips in the last two months. DC was a highly populated area; supplies were the first thing to go. We need to move, or we're all dead. Can you pull your head out of your ass long enough to see that?"
Victor's eye twitched and she prayed he would try to hit her. Knocking him on his ass and pounding some sense into him would make her day.
"Move? We're safe here, why the hell would we leave? All you have to do is go farther."
Ally wanted to scream. "Go farther? That's your solution? What about fuel? Weapons? Ammunition? When we go out, we're exposed. We need to think ahead, and get everybody out of here while we can."
Victor glared at her, waving away two people who stopped to listen in on the argument.
"You know as well as I do it is impossible to move this many people. It can't be done. And Joseph told me about the contact you messed up. We finally had options, and you scared the guy off. You'll pay for that."
Ally took a deep breath, counted to ten, then counted again backward before answering. "We need to move; it's a necessary risk. If we stay here, death is assured, either by starvation or infighting. I'm surprised we haven't had more of either."
"Come up with something else, because we're not moving. I'll let the group know you don't want to get them food."
Letting him leave was the best choice. Her anger levels were above the red line and she didn't think ripping his head off would be a morale booster for anybody but herself. She hoped the survivors knew t
he truth, but even if they hated her it didn't matter. A giant clock counted down for all of them. It was not a question of how or where, but when they died.
Larry smiled at her when she entered the radio room. "Early today. Kevin meeting you again?" he asked with a wink and a smile.
"I have no idea. I don't keep tabs on him." Ally grabbed her usual cup of sludge and picked up the notebook where they recorded all information gained from their contacts. She skimmed the day's events, her eyes narrowing at the end.
"Daniel's on the move again? I spoke to him last night and he was on a boat."
Larry rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, he popped on today, said something went sideways and he was in trouble. Joseph told me to invite him here, something about having a plan."
Ally resisted the urge to punch a wall. Joseph and his damn meddling were going to get them killed. "Please tell me you didn't give him our exact location."
Larry seemed uneasy, but a gruff voice stopped any response he might have had. "No, he didn't. I did."
Ally spun, coffee sloshing out of her cup. "Are you mental? You talk about how safe this place is, but you let a stranger know where we are?"
"Listen, you're not in charge here. You might think you have a few loyal friends, but in the end they'll back me. Daniel was nothing but sincere. I think his presence here will be beneficial. Not to mention he has weapons and said he would gather as many supplies as possible on the way."
"Wow, that's awfully nice of him. Braving a zombie wasteland, gathering goods, and then sharing them with us when he arrives…with weapons." Not trusting herself not to jam the mug up Joseph's ass, she placed it on the table.
Joseph stroked his scraggly beard. "Yes, it is nice. Discussion over, Lane. If he contacts us again, do not screw this up. We need someone with a plan."
He left the room and she slumped into the chair. Larry remained silent while minutes ticked by. Ally made circular patterns on the desk with her fingers as she tried to come up with a plan in case Daniel didn't turn out to be the savior Joseph thought he was.
Z-Boat (Book 3): Z-End Page 2