by Bryan James
Behind her, Ian guffawed again, as if amused by the conversation. He shuffled forward with concern, however, as Rhi approached.
“If you try anything …” she warned, hand on pistol.
“Ma’am, I am far too tired to try anything right now. I can barely speak. Please. Just check.”
I wasn’t lying. My head felt like someone was beating an anvil against my temple, and I was shivering from head to toe.
They were right about one thing. Superpowers be damned, I would have died without their help.
I winced as the bandage came free from the calf, her calloused hands working quickly and avoiding the bloody areas with a judicious efficiency.
The cold air hit the wound and I bit my lower lip, hoping that there was evidence of healing. Hoping that my blood loss wouldn’t delay the process. Hoping that there was something to show.
She stared at the wound, pulling a small flashlight from a holster on her hip and shining it on the punctured area. Her eyes moved up and down the leg for nearly fifteen seconds before moving to my face, her look unreadable.
Ethan took a large swig from a flask that had emerged from his pocket, guessing at his wife’s conclusion.
“Sorry son. I think maybe you should start thinkin’ about how you might be able to survive out here with a gimp leg and no weapons. We can’t risk…” he cut off abruptly when her gaze shifted to him.
“Come look at this, Ethan. You saw how it was when we pulled him up. Looked like he’d lose the leg at least. Ragged and full of dirt as it was. That hole was three inches wide and ugly as sin. Look at this now.” She flashed the light on my leg, and the man rushed over, staring incredulously.
His gaze flickered between my leg and my face, until I gave up on the show and laid my head against the tree. My vision blurred briefly and I blinked away the multiple branches above me. The fire spit another shower of sparks into the air.
“That’s just not possible,” I heard the man’s voice from a distance, as if from the end of a tunnel. “No one can heal that quickly. I’ve seen more ugly wounds in my time than I have a stomach for, but this is the first time … ” He trailed off, biting his lower lip in thought.
His tone was almost regretful. As if he had been rooting for the alternative.
It was so nice to be adored.
“I think it’s—“ Her voice changed abruptly. “Hey, Mike. Stay with me. Hey, look here.”
The voice was concerned now, as if our relationship had changed in the last ten seconds. But it was too distant for me now. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The sparks were fusing them shut. The fire wouldn’t stop talking to me about sleep. I had to succumb.
The last thought I had before letting sleep take me was of Kate’s hair swaying over her shoulders as she gathered it into a ponytail.
I’m sure the smile on my faced freaked out the old folks. And I’m glad for it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The sorority from hell...
They pressed through the forest as quickly as they could, at first hugging the rising river as carefully as possible. But soon, rocks and fallen trees pushed them into an unwilling zigzag that herded them closer to the road. Kate had spotted at least twenty of the creatures that had made it deep enough into the woods to be a concern, but they hadn’t penetrated deep enough en masse to pose a significant danger.
Until the gunfire started, it looked like their flanking maneuver was going to work.
But as any good soldier knows, no plan survives contact with the enemy.
As they were passing a tangle of torn trees that had fallen in a complex web of branches and ash, it was the falling limbs that made them fall to the ground first. Assuming it was another tremor, they hit the ground instinctively. Then, the sound of automatic gunfire cracking in the distance reached their ears. A bullet whistled through the air near Kate as she hunched back down behind a thick fallen tree.
“What the hell?” she muttered.
“Who is that?” Ky asked, moving to peek over the tree. Kate’s hand grabbed her harness and pulled her back down.
“Stay put! They might not know we’re back here, and you’re in the line of fire!”
Another volley sprayed into the woods as they heard the sound of yelling coming from the road. A large engine revved loudly and the gunfire intensified.
Bullets flared into the surrounding woods and slammed into the tree trunk behind them, shredding the wood and thinning their only protection.
“Shit,” Kate said, closing her eyes and realizing they had to shout out or risk getting killed in a volley of automatic fire.
“How do we know if they’re … I don’t know … good or okay or not rapists and murderers?”
“We don’t,” Kate began, but another burst of bullets tore into the tree, spitting wood chips into the air around them. “But either we let them know we’re out here, or we’re going to lose this cover and be shit out of luck.” She nodded her head forward, signaling the rapid increase in the river level, which had been following them steadily. It was within twenty feet of them now, having risen thirty or so feet in the last ten minutes.
“Okay,” said Ky, her tone doubtful but her eyes intent on the encroaching water.
There was no good option. The odds of this armed group being friendly were virtually nil. The odds that they weren’t rapists and murderers seemed only slightly better. The most they could hope for was a group that would let them go their way—with our without their weapons. While they had some … advantages … they wouldn’t last long without protection. Even if they could circle around to their packs, these woods were thick with zeds.
Kate’s hand tightened on her rifle and she pointed it up and away, firing toward the river so as not to send the wrong message.
Three rounds left the barrel and almost immediately voices rose in surprise and another engine revved. The gunfire intensified briefly around their position until a single voice silenced the shooters. The same voice, now amplified by a megaphone, cast out into the woods.
“If you want to make it out of those woods alive, you can come out right now, hands up and away from weapons, and head toward the road. We have fifty guns here, and you have about three minutes. Make your decision.” Gunfire intensified again, this time pointed away, toward what must now be the rear ranks of the large herd.
This group must have been following the road looking for a bridge, and come up on the herd that was even now drawn up on the river’s edge.
The voice was deep but higher pitched than Kate expected. Then she realized, the leader was a woman.
Kate looked at Ky, knowing they were both thinking the same thing. A group led by a woman seemed less threatening, somehow. And they weren’t replete with options at this point.
“You ready?” Kate asked Ky, hoping this was the right decision.
Ky looked around, taking in the rising water, and glancing at the approaching creatures over Ky’s shoulder. She shifted her rifle to her back and took in a breath.
“Sure,” she sighed. “What could possibly go wrong?”
The trees were down in larger numbers in this area of the forest, explaining the distance of the rounds fired from the roadway. Nearly a dozen zeds were down in the tangled mess of wood and debris. They covered the distance quickly, arms to their sides, weapons stowed and careful not to appear aggressive. As they got closer they could take in the bizarre convoy of cars and trucks.
A large machine that looked like an armored airport shuttle—low and wide, with a flat front and thick, wide-set tires behind a crude but effective-looking plow attachment—squatted in the middle of the caravan. On either end, brown military humvees held the point and the rear, fifty caliber machine guns firing at targets beyond their view, the cacophony loud in their ears and echoing from the surrounding rock and earth walls. Between these vehicles, an assortment of trucks, cars, and motorcycles were parked and idling, as the passengers leaned from open doors, rifles and handguns raised and ready—and in some case
s firing at selected targets. A recent model pickup truck had pulled away from the pack and was parked on the shoulder closest to Kate and Ky. As they picked their way forward, Kate squinted at the form that dropped lithely to the ground and walked carefully toward the edge of the trees.
“Keep moving,” said the woman, her voice still commanding, even without the megaphone. She kept her right hand on a large handgun, eyes narrowing as they cleared the last of the trees. Kate frowned briefly as she noticed the change in her demeanor as their forms were clear.
“We’re no trouble,” Kate said as she scanned the group around her, many of them ignoring the newcomers as they focused on the herd of creatures that had turned toward the group. “Just caught between a river and a pack of shit heads.”
The woman who had spoken cocked her head slightly to the side, and Kate took in her full appearance. Short brown hair on a thick but athletic body, a face that would be pretty if not for the intense severity that pushed her eyebrows over brown eyes—almost black in their deep darkness—and a clean, if not ragged and worn, military uniform. Kate took in the parallel bars on the seam of the brown camouflaged blouse, noting the rank.
“We never know trouble until it’s too late,” the woman said carefully, but her hand moved away from her pistol, glancing to the front of the column as a new burst of automatic fire came from the front humvee. “Speaking of trouble, what can you tell me about this herd? How many are there around that bend? Is the bridge still up?”
“There are hundreds. Too many for two fifty cals and these small arms. You’re going to have to turn around.”
The woman grunted, looking back to the front of the column again and grabbing her radio. Looking back to Kate, she spoke in a clipped tone.
“You speak like you’ve got some experience with these things. Suppose most do, these days, if they’re still alive. If you’re shitting me about the way forward, I’ll find out. You positive about that sit-rep?”
“Look lady. We don’t know you, but I can see we’re interested in the same thing. Namely, living to see the next sunrise without passing through a zombie’s digestive track. So I’ve got no reason to lie. You need to back this column up and move away. You’re already too close to them. The bridge is out, and the water’s rising. There are hundreds of those things out there and they’re going to be driven toward you by this noise and the water rising behind them. You need to move your men away.”
The woman threw Kate a smirk before speaking into her microphone.
“Disengage and cease fire. Stow the heavy guns and pull the column around, Six Five, you’re on point. Six Six take the rear. Everyone else, roll up and keep it tight.”
She waved at Kate and Ky, pointing to the rear cab of her truck.
“Mount up, ladies. Least we can do is offer you a ride in exchange for the intel.” She paused as she stepped up into the passenger side of the large red truck. “And you might have noticed—I don’t have any men. Just soldiers.”
Kate turned to Ky and exchanged a look as the walked forward slowly, taking in the remainder of the group—nearly fifty in total. Counting heads, she slowly realized what made this group feel different, and why the woman had relaxed when they had emerged from the trees.
They were all women.
From the drivers of the trucks to the gunners to the children in the back seats of the parked cars. Not one single man or boy.
Well this wasn’t normal at all, Kate thought, pulling the door shut behind her and Ky as more than a hundred of those things emerged from around the bend—too close to risk fleeing on foot.
***
The truck slammed against the pavement awkwardly, three wheels finding purchase before the fourth could locate traction. Kate swayed heavily against Ky as they both gripped the handles above the doors for dear life.
“Nothing like an earthquake to really fuck up your commute, huh?” The voice tossed back jovially from the front passenger seat.
Her name was Captain Jane Starr, and there were forty-six survivors under her care. They had been on the run for nearly the entire time, gaining and losing members as time went by, committed to the idea that movement meant survival. Her voice was serious, and her eyes flicked back to the two new women frequently, as if trying to gauge their reactions.
She continued, after Kate made a non-committal sound of agreement with her last statement.
“We were in a small town north of the river last night, right at twilight when the first one hit. Lost three women that were standing watch on a rooftop next to the abandoned feed mill we had found. The rest of us got out in time to watch the old brick building collapse on itself, taking half our food with it.” She shook her head, putting her hand affectionately on the driver’s shoulder. The woman behind the wheel smiled quickly at the touch, but remained focused on the tattered roadway ahead.
The cracked and warped concrete stretched northward, hugging the fragile edge of the rising hill to their right. They gradually climbed away from the river, and Kate began to wonder when it would be appropriate to ask them to pull over and let the two of them out again.
“Sheila here saved three children when they got too close to one of the weakening walls. Grabbed them right out of the way as the thing came down.” Captain Starr turned her body at the last point, pulling her head around to face Kate and Ky.
“But I imagine you two have some stories to tell, too, don’t you?” Her look was both inquisitive and demanding. As if she expected to hear more from them.
“Why aren’t there any men or boys with you?” Ky’s voice was loud and unapologetic, and Kate flinched inside, while keeping her demeanor even and calm.
There were better ways to broach that subject, Kate knew.
She had sensed that there was something amiss with this group. That the absence of men, while it was certainly less threatening, was indicative of some larger concern.
And that they should like tread lightly on the subject until they knew more.
Starr fixed the teenager with a piercing stare, considering the question. Then, her mouth turned up in a sudden smile that didn’t touch her eyes.
“I’m curious to know why you were in the middle of what most civilized folks would consider nowhere,” she said, turning to Kate and ignoring the question. “Were you with anyone else?”
Her voice became overly nonchalant, and Kate’s hackles rose.
Ky went to speak again, but a sudden jerk on the wheel gave Kate the excuse to elbow the girl in the ribs.
Kate answered for Ky. “We were alone. Coming up from Seattle. There was a big battle there. A large herd outside a military base. We watched if from our apartment building, and decided the city was just too dangerous. We barely escaped with our lives, but figured there’d be fewer of those things out here, so we started to make our way up north. Have you been north of the border? We had this theory—that the zombies wouldn’t be able to survive the cold. Maybe they’d freeze solid, or at least slow down enough that we’d stand a better chance.”
She purposefully gave her tone all the innocence she could muster, feeling something was definitely off with this group and their leader.
Starr nodded once and looked out her side window, as if contemplating the story and the question.
“We made it as far north as the Canadian border on I-5. Nasty stuff, that. Cars bumper to bumper, bottlenecking in both directions—like all the Canadians decided it was safer down here, and all the Americans decided it was better in Canada. Truth is, none of them won on that count. Everything for miles on our side was dead. Fire had burned through those cars and the checkpoint months ago. We didn’t bother flanking it and heading north on another route.”
They had emerged from the rocky area near the river and were making their slow way along a two lane highway between fields of grape vines. A tattered sign to their right advertised a chic winery three miles distant, in the broken hills beyond the fields.
“Tastings daily,” said Ky under her breath, laughi
ng at the irony. A zombie ambled down the long driveway next to the road, bits of flesh still clinging to its teeth.
“Truth is, we’re running out of places to go,” Starr said, pointing out the front window. “North is shit—too many cars on the main highway, which is probably part of the ocean now anyway. South is Seattle and the burbs—too many of those things down that way. East is mountains and roads that weren’t that good to begin with—earthquakes haven’t helped them much. And West, we have a suddenly much larger Pacific Ocean.”
“Why haven’t you tried to stay somewhere? Fortify a building, make a stand?”
Starr glanced at her dismissively.
“When my unit was called up out of Lewis, we were sent to a small town not too far from here to shore up a water treatment plant and evac the people working there. We had two of those Rhinos for the crew of the plant,” she said, gesturing at the large brown bus several cars back. “Six humvees, and four Bradleys. Some serious firepower.”
“We were ordered to help secure the plant at all costs, and to only abandon our positions if we were under imminent threat of being overrun. Chain link fences, security checkpoints, the works. Piece of cake, right?” She snorted, and the driver next to her just shook her head, as if she had heard the story before. Beside the truck, another creature shambled into view from a nearby field, a carefully placed headshot from one of the cars behind theirs taking it down as Starr spoke.
“One week into the infection, our supply line stopped. No more choppers with food and ammunition. No word from command. Dead air. But so far, it wasn’t too bad. Intermittent contact, nothing too heavy. We decided we could risk short trips outside the cordon to find food. Ammo was okay, since we had seen groups of five or ten, but nothing major. Water treatment plants, after all, were not often located in major city centers or in major population areas.
Two weeks in, we were having to push further out from the base. Command was still dark, but we were maintaining. Still had our sense of purpose and our mission. The plant kept trucking, and we stayed frosty.”