Zombiemandias (Book 2): In the Year of Our Death

by David J. Lovato

  Bailey looked the clothes over. There were a few pairs of socks and a pair of pants, a long-sleeve shirt, a coat, and a purple-and-grey striped beanie.

  “I can have them? Really?”

  “Yep, I got no use for them now. Not since my Erica died.” He sat back down and returned to his beans. “She’d have wanted you to have them, I know it. Nicest girl ever. I miss her more every day… But we all got demons in the past. Best we leave them there, I think.”

  “Thank you,” Bailey said.

  The man shook his head. “Just eat your beans before they get cold.”

  They talked for a little while, and Bailey helped the man tape a tarp over either side of his front door. Between the layers they stuffed extra clothes and rags and some of the remaining canvas bags. The sun was setting when they finished.

  “It won’t be as good as the glass, but it should keep you warm,” Bailey said.

  “Warmer’n a big hole, anyway.” The man wiped his hands off on his jeans, then looked down the road. “I suppose you’ll be heading out, then?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for everything.”

  “You sure you don’t want to stay for tonight? You can use my sleeping bag, I’ll make due.”

  Bailey shook her head. “If any of those guys find us, they’ll kill us both. On your own you have a chance.”

  “All right,” the man said. He smiled, then frowned. Then he tentatively opened his arms. Bailey was confused for a second, but then found herself, and gave the man a hug.

  “Thanks again,” she said.

  “You ever feel safe enough in the area again, you come find me, all right?”

  “Yeah,” Bailey said. “Take care. And watch out for Mike’s guys.”

  “Trust me, miss, there ain’t nothing… nothing in this world I can’t handle anymore.”

  Bailey continued down the interstate. When she looked back it was dark, but she could see a tiny red light, the glow of a cigarette.

  21

  Near Henderson

  “Name’s Bart,” the calm man said. “Listen, about all that stuff before. No hard feelings.” It wasn’t a suggestion. “Unless we find out you’re lying, of course.”

  “I’m not,” Nelson said. His foot ached, but the whole group had slowed to match his speed.

  “Yeah, you keep saying that… See, I can’t just take you at your word, I’m afraid. Tried that once. Lost damn near everyone. That’s a mistake I simply won’t make again.”

  With every step, blood squished out of Nelson’s shoe. He was still trying not to put pressure on it. Bart noticed. “We’ll have the doc take a look at that. We have a doctor, you know. Just didn’t have a scientist before now.”

  “Now? Wait, you don’t think I’m going to stay with you, do you?”

  Bart laughed. “Of course you won’t.”

  Nelson was already feeling better. Only a half hour before, these men were prepared to kill him. They had saved him from the zombies, true, but only to steal what he had. But they were buying his story, and it would be easy enough to convince them of the rest of it. For now, they were taking him to a doctor, getting him glasses, and soon they’d turn him loose back in Hoover Dam, and it would be like the whole thing never happened. All in all, Nelson called this a win.

  “Hey, Bart,” one of the other men said, “we got movement ahead.”

  “Down,” Bart said, motioning with his hands to emphasize it. Everyone ducked, and Nelson went down slowest, trying to avoid pressing his foot into the ground. One of them, a young woman (and the only woman with them) took out a pair of tiny binoculars. “What do you see?” Bart asked her.

  “Three zombies. Middle of the road. Nothing to either side… Wait, at least one, in the alley, to the left. By the red building.”

  “Damn it,” one of the others said. “We’ve wasted enough ammo as it is today.”

  “Wasted? We damn near cleared out the interstate. Soon enough we’ll have all of Henderson back. Not to mention we picked up our new friend here.” Bart patted Nelson on the back so hard, he almost fell over, no thanks to having all of his weight on one foot.

  “There might be more,” the woman with the binoculars said. She folded them and put them in a bag hanging from her side. “I say we go in quiet.”

  “I say you’re right,” Bart replied. The others moved out, and Nelson started forward, but Bart stretched an arm in front of him. “Whoa-ho-ho now. Not you. Just sit tight and watch.” He handed Nelson a pair of binoculars.

  Bart stayed with Nelson as the others disappeared. At one point Nelson saw one a few dozen yards ahead appear in view long enough to climb over the cement barrier and disappear again behind it.

  For what seemed like a long time, nothing else happened. Then Nelson saw movement again. He put the binoculars to his eyes, and while things were still blurry, he could make out enough. Something came up behind a zombie, grabbed it from behind and moved its hand quickly, and then there was a spray of red as the zombie fell to the ground and the figure ducked and vanished. Something similar happened a few yards away, and then a zombie took notice and let out a silent snarl as it started toward the young woman from before. Long before it reached her, one of Bart’s men clubbed it over the head with a lead pipe. Nelson winced, and though he was too far to have heard anything, his mind put in a nice crack! for him. The zombie fell down and out of view, and the man with the pipe spread his legs, raised the pipe in both arms, and brought it down hard.

  “How’s it going?” Bart asked.

  “They’re taking them out,” Nelson replied. “One by one.” He handed the binoculars back to Bart; he wasn’t a fan of witnessing violence, even against zombies.

  After a while, Bart’s men returned. “All clear,” one of them said, and the group started moving again. Soon they passed the bodies of several zombies. To Nelson, they were dark shapes interrupted by splotches of bright red.

  “Not far, now,” Bart said after a while.

  “Aren’t we heading a little far into town?” Nelson asked. “Is it safe?”

  “Got us a casino more on the outskirts than not. Been safe enough. Blocked off the streets northwest of us, and we have a patrol. It’s the south you have to worry about, but the zombies rarely come up from here. So long as we don’t make a lot of noise.”

  More walking turned the horizon into a tall, gray blob. Nelson could see things jutting up from it; it must’ve been the makeshift barricade. To the right was a wide building several stories high, with a massive card erected on top. Even Nelson could tell it was the ace of hearts.

  “Home sweet home,” Bart said. “Ace Crazy Hotel and Casino.”

  Nelson instinctually headed toward the opening in the barricade. Someone to the left shouted, “Welcome back!” Nelson jumped, and everyone laughed at him. “Who’s this?” the guard to the left asked. Nelson had overlooked him because he had been sitting cross-legged on the hood of a car.

  “New guy we found,” the female member of Bart’s gang replied. “Hot-shot scientist. Says he keeps the whole area powered up.”

  The guard’s eyes might’ve widened, they might not have. “No bullshit?”

  “No bullshit,” Nelson said. He wiped his head with his sleeve.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “Yeah, we shot him,” Bart said, then winked at Nelson. Nelson didn’t care to correct him. “Again, sorry about that.” He turned back to his guard. “Anything happen while we were gone?”

  The guard shook his head, most likely. “All quiet out here. Same as usual. Heard some gunshots down south, but I’m guessing that was you.”

  “You’re guessing right.” Bart took a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket, removed one, and tossed it to the guard, who caught it in the air. “Carry on.”

  Bart and the others headed for the casino. The door was blocked by a ring of shopping carts that extended from the building’s front wall, made a semi-circle around the door, and joined the wall on the other side. Several of the carts had short po
les raised from their ends, and on these were signs in block letters. One was close enough for Nelson to read:

  Please don’t steal our carts!

  “Genius, isn’t it?” Bart said. “Pilfered these from some mom-and-pop grocery shop in town.”

  “The zombies can’t climb over them?” Nelson asked.

  Bart frowned, then shrugged. “Probably could. Never seen ‘em do it though. Most times they hit something too high for them to fall over, and they just turn and walk away. Anyway, we bolted poles into the wall of the building and chained the carts in place. Go ahead, try moving them.”

  Nelson’s foot was throbbing at him and his face was whining to be let into some shade, but he didn’t want to push Bart too hard. He grabbed one of the carts and tried to pull it free from the others. It wiggled a little, but wouldn’t come loose, and Nelson noticed each of the carts was attached to the next by a tiny chain leading from a little black box on either end of the shopping cart.

  “See, no zombies’ll know this trick.” Bart reached into his pocket for some change, put a quarter in either black box, and then the little chains came undone. He had to do this to three or four carts before there was enough leeway to get any of the carts free from the others. “I suppose if we had enough zombies out here they might eventually mob their way over the carts. But otherwise? None of them gets close to the door. No ground floor windows to come through either, we barricaded whatever ones we found. Place is locked down tight.”

  “Not bad,” Nelson said.

  “You patronizing me?”

  “Not at all. I mean it. I didn’t even keep my door locked, look what that got me.”

  Bart laughed, then gestured Nelson in. Everyone filed through the gap in the carts, then Bart put the free ones back. Snapping the end of the chain into the black box released his quarters, which he pocketed, and then he led everyone into the casino.

  22

  By an Open Gate

  Keely watched as the people filed in over the next few weeks. The first was a young couple, and they looked like embarrassed highschoolers unsure of whether they were in the right classroom.

  Layne and the others had set up shifts, so there were always two people near the main gate to let people into New Los Angeles.

  The rooms in the motel filled up in the first few days. With new sets of hands around, clearing out other buildings was easy. Finding everyone food, water, and a place to sleep wasn’t. Eventually, Garrett and Vince had to leave to forage, which meant everyone else picking up their shifts as door guards.

  Keely didn’t mind. She was usually able to get a shift with Katie, and they would sit around talking for hours, which was nice even if nobody showed up. They would talk, but there was always one question on Keely’s mind that she could never find a way to ask: What was it like?

  By the third week, there were nearly twenty people living in New Los Angeles, and the number was going up. Keely and Katie had the watch one morning, and that’s when they saw the first child they’d seen in years.

  There was a knock at the barricade, and Katie unlatched it and swung the gigantic door open. A small family stood just outside, and relief showed clear on their faces when they saw people.

  “Hello,” Katie said.

  “This is where the radio guy lives, right?” a paunchy, balding man said.

  “Yeah,” Keely said. “But he’s not the only one.”

  “I know you.” The man ushered his wife and their daughter, a young girl, inside.

  Keely raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think we’ve met. Who are you?”

  The man’s face turned red. “The asshole who stole your car.”

  Keely was surprised, but she smiled.

  “We’re very sorry,” the woman said.

  “We were trying to get out of town,” her husband added. “We were going to check the store for supplies when we came across your car, with the keys inside and everything.”

  “Yeah, Garrett doesn’t like to take them inside with him. That way, if something happens to him, everyone can still get away.”

  “Yeah. Well, we took the car, and we were miles away by the time it occurred to me that it might belong to someone.”

  “We drove back,” the woman said, “and we checked the store, but no one was there.”

  “We drove around looking for a while, but didn’t find you.”

  “We went down I-5,” Keely said.

  “We didn’t look too far, we had no idea where you might’ve come from or gone, or who you were or how you’d react to us taking your car.”

  Keely shrugged. “It’s all right. We have a few others anyway. But we did have to walk all the way back.”

  “Again, we’re very sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Keely said. “Just make yourselves at home here.”

  Katie was kneeling down, talking to the young girl. “My name is Katie. What’s your name?”

  “Amber.”

  “That’s a pretty name,” Katie said. Keely smiled. Then they heard gunshots.

  Amber let out a small cry, and her mother rushed to put her arms on her daughter’s shoulders. The husband turned and looked back into Old L.A.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Katie said. “Just get inside. The motel is around that corner.”

  “We’ll take care of things here,” Keely said. “When you get inside, find someone and tell them to come watch the door. You’ll need to lock it behind us.”

  Keely and Katie took their guns and headed out. The father shut the barricade behind them, and they heard it latch. Then they headed down the street.

  “Where did it come from?” Katie asked.

  “Over there, I think.” Keely pointed to a street ahead. Another shot rang out to confirm it, and they ran.

  “Help!” someone screamed. The two women rounded the corner and saw a zombie tugging on a man’s arm. His gun was in that hand, and he was busy pushing the zombie with his other.

  “Try to hold still,” Keely said. Katie took aim.

  “Easier said than done!” the man replied.

  Katie fired and hit the zombie’s shoulder. It recoiled, but didn’t let go. She fired again and hit it in the head. The man cried out when blood splattered on him, but the zombie fell to the ground, and he moved away from it.

  “You all right?” Keely asked. “You didn’t get bitten, did you?”

  “No. I didn’t get bitten, I mean. I’m okay. …Thanks for the help.”

  The man looked like he was lost and wasn’t sure Keely and Katie were really there.

  “We should go,” Katie said. “There are more coming.”

  A few zombies were shambling toward them. Most were skinny, what remained of their clothes now baggy from years of malnutrition. They had uncut hair and unwashed skin, one had a massive bush of a beard. But they moved quickly enough.

  “Come on, this way,” Keely said. The man followed them back to the barricade.

  “Think that guy got anyone out here yet?” Katie asked.

  “I don’t know.” Keely banged on the barricade gate. “Hello?” No one answered.

  “Shit, he’s not back yet.” Katie and Keely turned to the approaching zombies. There were a half dozen working their way around stopped vehicles and garbage in the street. “You have ammo to spare?” Katie asked the man they’d saved.

  “A little.”

  “Then use it,” Keely said. The three of them opened fire.

  Two of the zombies went down at first, but one got back up and limped along behind the others. Keely hopped onto a car before her, one of theirs, to get a better shot. She put a bullet through a zombie’s neck, and it gurgled as it fell to the ground. The zombies headed for her, and when they were close she hopped off of the car while Katie went around the other side, shooting at them from behind. Keely finished off two that had made their way around the car for her, and then all was quiet.

  “The sound will draw more,” Katie said.

  “Yeah,” Keely replied. She lo
oked at the man. “Always try not to shoot unless you have to. It draws more zombies, and we need them to stay away so we can get people in.”

  The survivor looked offended, but then he wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand, and when he looked at Keely again he looked normal.

  “Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to draw any… zombies to other people.”

  “It’s all right, Katie said. “We’ll get you inside as soon as we can.”

  “Thanks. I’m Randy.”

  “I’m Katie. This is Keely.”

  “Hello.”

  “Well, Randy,” Keely said, “welcome to New Los Angeles.”

  A few minutes later the barricade opened, and Dex let the three of them into the city.

  23

  Beyond the Cul-de-Sac

  “Does anyone even know where we’re going?” Rachel asked.

  The teens trudged along the road. To their side was an open field that eventually led to a running track, and their high school beyond that.

  “Away from the city,” Steven said. “And be quiet. We don’t want to be found.”

  “It’s getting dark.” Rachel wasn’t any quieter.

  “Maybe we should stop for the night,” Ed said.

  “Where?” Kevin asked.

  “We could try the high school,” Gladys said.

  “Nu-uh,” Rob replied. “No way. Summer school was in session when this whole thing started. And there were still some sports meets.”

  “So?” Sharon said. “Anything that was still in the school is dead by now.”

  “Exactly. That place is going to smell like a slaughterhouse.”

  “Hate to tell you this, bro,” Steven said, “but we’re past the courtesy of sleeping someplace that smells nice.”

  Will wished the others would stop talking; he wanted to be able to hear if something was sneaking up on them. Then he had an idea, and couldn’t help speaking up.