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

by David J. Lovato

  “Take a breath, Randolph,” Adam said. “Think on it a little more. This plan, would it work? Think carefully.”

  “…No, I suppose not. They have guards at the doors to let other lesser humans in. But we can get in that way, just pretend we’re others who heard the message and came to seek shelter.”

  “Live among them?” someone said. “Never!”

  Adam raised a hand for silence. “Please. Remember the Cause.” He thought for a few minutes. “It is a good plan, but it’s not our plan. If we all arrive at once, it’ll raise suspicions. We’d have to drag it out over days, weeks… I am a patient man, we have all waited so long, but we don’t have the supplies for that.”

  “The damn lesser humans picked the whole area clean years ago,” Randolph said. “Maybe I can come back with food and water.”

  “Would they notice it’s missing?”

  “I guess.”

  Adam leaned his head on a fist. “Okay. The answer is clear, it’s always the answer: The greater humans. We’ll let them into the city.”

  “But they’ll be killed!” Maddock said.

  “Some will, no doubt, and my heart aches at the thought, but this is a war. You can’t win a war without sacrifices. I don’t say this lightly, nor would I ever ask the greater humans to do my work for me. Randolph, you’ll return to New Los Angeles, as we planned. This time, you won’t go alone. Four, maybe five others go with you.” Adam stood to address the others. “You’ll do as Brother Randolph has done, and act as though you’re among them. In a few weeks’ time, on a date of our choosing, we bring the Reckoning. Maddock?”

  “Yes, Adam.”

  “I told you we might have use for your skills, one day.”

  Maddock smiled. “Yes, sir.”

  “Before the new age, Brother Maddock was in the military. I have no doubt that his knowledge will be useful in tearing down the walls these lesser humans put up.”

  “We’ll blow them to pieces. The gates sound like the weak points, we’ll start there.”

  “The rest of us will be ready to move in when that happens. With luck, we’ll be finished with our work before the greater humans arrive to lead us to His Grace.”

  “Hallelujah!” the others cried.

  “Brother Randolph, repeat what I’ve said.”

  “I’m going back with a few others. I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing. On a certain day—”

  “Two weeks from today.”

  “Two weeks from today, we’ll set off the explosives Maddock makes. The explosions will leave the gates open, and the rest of you will move in.”

  “The sound will draw greater humans,” Adam said, nodding. “We must try to make sure the lesser humans are all dead before they arrive. It’ll be in the night, and they won’t know what hit them, so we should have little trouble. When we’re finished with our work, you will all remain outside while the greater humans rapture you. I’ll go into the radio station and deliver my message to the world before I join you as a greater human.”

  The congregation cheered, and the confined space amplified the sound. Adam winced. It died down, and he looked at his lesser humans. “Who will go with Brother Randolph and Brother Maddock?”

  “My daughter,” Maddock said. Adam looked at Jane. She stared at the ground, but she nodded.

  “I’ll go.” It was Samuel. His wife, Beulah, stood to join him.

  “That makes five,” Adam said. “The rest of us will see you in two weeks.”

  “What about the Great Evil One?” Randolph asked. Everyone stared at Adam, hungry for an answer.

  “I’m not a prideful man. I lay no claim to his life. I think you were right the first time, Randolph. The night you open the gates, slit his throat while he sleeps.”

  30

  In the Quiet Neighborhood

  Weeks went by, and winter was in full swing. It snowed most days, and piled on top of branches and roofs and window sills. There were no such things as heaters anymore, but fires did the trick well enough. Outside of their orange range, not a single breath went unseen.

  When Bailey woke on the floor of the living room, the embers were no longer glowing. Cliff had shown her how he made his fires a hundred times, but she still couldn’t get hers to last the whole night through.

  As she moved the blankets off of her, the cold tackled her. She shivered, and reached for one of her coats. Her clothing was mismatched, most was taken from the nearby houses and didn’t fit properly, but it kept her warm enough. She put the coat on and slipped on an extra pair of socks.

  Daylight shone through the cracks between the blankets and windows. Bailey got her fire going again, then set a teapot on the small metal grate over the flames. She hadn’t had coffee since she left Mike’s place, but tea worked just fine.

  Bailey went to the window and slid a heavy blanket out of the way. It was early enough that the snow didn’t catch the sun, but late enough to see.

  Across the street, men and women stood with guns. They surrounded Alyssandra and Cliff’s house. Cliff was at the door, holding it defensively, but Bailey could see him shaking even from this distance. Alyssandra poked her head out behind him from time to time, and he appeared to be shushing her.

  Bailey crouched. She was pretty sure no one could see in, but she knew to be careful.

  There was no big wooden sled, and very few of the people were wearing camo. They were likely Mike’s, not Burke’s. They had to be asking about her, and even if they weren’t, they would kill Cliff and Alyssandra if they couldn’t convert them. Bailey didn’t know what to do. If it had been Burke’s men, she might’ve given herself up to spare them (if the need for that even arose), but with Mike’s it wouldn’t even matter.

  Bailey looked around for Mike or Gerald or someone she recognized. Maybe she could strike a deal, get Cliff and Alyssandra out of this mess. She cursed her luck, cursed herself for being stupid enough to think she was safe.

  She could leave out the back door and disappear into the woods, but what about Cliff and Alyssandra? She couldn’t just leave them there.

  Cliff tried to close the door, but a big man with a gun stuck his foot inside. The rest of the company looked around. Bailey wasn’t sure what they hoped to see. Did they expect her to be out there, wandering aimlessly?

  Then she saw the smoke rising from Cliff and Alyssandra’s chimney.

  Bailey turned to the fireplace. The fire was roaring, the water in the pot boiling. It was only a matter of time.

  She rushed over and closed the chimney flue. Smoke began to seep into the house. Bailey headed back to the window and peeled the blanket away. Two people were crossing the street. Bailey gathered whatever she could into her bag and tucked her gun into her jeans. The teapot started screaming, and it almost made Bailey cry out. Then someone banged on the door.

  Bailey rushed out through the back, into snow reaching halfway up her calves. She didn’t even close the door, and cursed under her breath for it; if she had closed it they would’ve searched the house first, buying her precious seconds, but there was nothing for that now.

  Outside she could hear them talking, shouting. She got in among the trees, tried her best to zigzag and confuse her prints. She looked back at the house expecting to see people rushing through the snow to find her, but saw only the open door.

  Bailey reached the bottom of a hill, where a small, frozen creek wound through the woods. She traveled along it, traveled in it, crossed it as often as she could. After a few minutes the creek had a small wall of mud to one side, and Bailey climbed it, hoping that anyone following would stick to the creek and miss any tracks she left on the bank.

  She headed back up the hill and came out a few houses down from her own. She crept along the side of one, where a steep hill culminated in a large pile of snow. Bailey lay down on it, climbed to the ridge, and looked over.

  The two men were still banging on her door, the rest still looking around. A glint of sunlight suggested at least one of them had binoculars, so
Bailey crept back along the side of the house and listened.

  The voices were all muffled at best, even the shouts. She couldn’t be sure how long she listened, but then a gunshot cracked out, and then another. Tears began to fall, freezing against her face. Another sound came, louder than the voices but quieter than the gunshots, and after a second she realized they had broken down her door.

  Bailey looked around. How long until they found her? How many of the houses would they check?

  She noticed a small window next to her, on the side of the house. It was nearly buried by the snow. Bailey tried to slide it open, but it wouldn’t budge. If she broke it they might hear. She took her coat off, wrapped it around her legs, and pressed them into the glass as hard as she could. She kicked lightly, then kicked again, and the glass snapped more quietly than she thought it would, but it still seemed too loud.

  Bailey slid into the basement of the house. She tried her best to cover the window back up with snow, but it was impossible from the inside. She hung the coat over the opening, hoping no one would notice it, or that it would be taken for something hung there long before to staunch the cold in a world void of handymen.

  She looked around for a place to hide. The far wall had a small door built into it, and Bailey headed there. The handle was rusted and hard to turn, but she hit it a few times, and then it opened. Behind was a small vertical crawlspace built around a water pipe. Bailey crouched inside. It was cramped, but she managed to snap the door shut behind her. Then she slung her bag around her neck, pressed her arms and legs into the sides of the shaft, and climbed.

  The shaft ended a few yards off of the ground, and Bailey waited at the top. Her arms and legs were cold and already tired.

  In came the muffled sound of a door, followed by footsteps. Inside the wall, the footsteps could’ve come from anywhere. There were voices too, and then another door opening, and then the footsteps and the voices were in the basement with her. Bailey’s arms and legs were shaking, surely they’d fail her, she’d drop and they’d hear her and that would be the end of it. And why not? Why should she live when Cliff and Alyssandra, who had done nothing wrong and been nothing but good, had already gone cold?

  “I’m tired of hearing it,” one of the people in the room said. “They were lying to us, obviously. I don’t care who they were, they had to die. I don’t trust them, and I don’t trust whoever got away. We find them.”

  “It’s a needle in a haystack. We really going to search every one of these houses? And what about those woods?”

  “Look, you got a complaint, take it up with Burke.”

  Bailey’s racing heart skipped a beat. She was furious. It was Burke’s people after all. She felt confused and betrayed all over again.

  “Check the crawlspace.”

  It was all about to end. Her arms and legs were growing numb, she was going to fall as soon as whoever it was stuck their head in, and even if she held on, they’d see her. She could drop when someone peeked in, maybe take them out, but the other would gun her down. At least it was a way to go.

  The little door opened, but Bailey didn’t let go, and no heads poked in.

  “Just a water pipe. Let’s get out of here.”

  They left the little door open. Bailey heard the basement door shut, and then a more muffled door, and then she carefully and painfully slid down the shaft. She climbed out of the crawlspace and waited.

  It was dark when she finally left the house. There were footprints everywhere, but otherwise no sign of Burke or his men. She walked along the street she had made the mistake of calling her home, walked toward what had been her house.

  Burke’s men may have moved on, but they’d left her a message. Her house was a roaring bonfire trying desperately to spread to the houses to either side. By the light of the flames she found Cliff and Alyssandra, though it wouldn’t have been hard even in darkness. Their bodies still lay in the open door, discarded like they were nothing.

  The snow was cold, but not so hard. The earth below it was, but it didn’t matter. Besides, digging kept her warm.

  It took a long time, most of which was a blur of memories and thoughts and emotions, and suddenly the sun was rising and Bailey was standing over two mounds in the snow in the house’s back yard.

  A thought repeated in her head, and had been for a while. A fantasy, a picture of what should have been. She saw Cliff and Alyssandra, and he put his arm around her and she him, like they always had, as they leaned over not two mounds in the snow, but one. And then spring would come and then summer, and the leaves would fall again before the snow, and life would go on, the way it should have.

  Bailey looked around. It was a silent morning threatening to snow. Her house was still burning, but with less passion.

  She could have stayed in any of the other houses. Burke’s men might have come back, or maybe Mike’s. Or maybe they’d be gone, and spring would come and flowers would bloom, and then summer would bring warm rains and autumn dead leaves, and perhaps she could have stayed forever and visited the man at the gas station from time to time. But none of that would bring back Cliff or Alyssandra, none of it would put Bailey in the ground instead of them, where she belonged. Nothing would make it right.

  Bailey gathered what little she still had and started down the snow-covered road.

  31

  In the Basement

  The basement was a huge open area, with only the bathroom closed off. Three large couches sat at right angles to each other, a pool table stood behind them, and the rest was empty space.

  Everyone sat or stood, relaxing and talking. Alex, Ed, Will, and Jeremy were playing pool. There was an air of uncertainty among the group, and when Steven came down the stairs with Annie’s parents, everyone looked at them.

  “There’s a lot of food and water stored up, and more coming steadily,” Steven said. “Bill and Sarah and I talked it over, and we can stay here for a while.”

  Everyone started talking at once, and stopped when Sarah stepped forward.

  “There are some rules,” she said. “I know you’re kids, and I know it’s easy to get bored or chatty. But if Bill or I tell you to do something, you need to do it. No wandering out of the house without telling us where you are, and keep your voices down. These walls block out some sound but not all of it, especially when there’s no sound out there to drown it out. I don’t want anything finding us in here.”

  “Behave yourselves and you’re welcome to stay,” Bill said.

  “I’m making dinner soon. We have plenty.” Sarah and Bill left after that, and everyone started talking.

  “Maybe we should just keep moving,” Rob said.

  “And go where?” Rachel asked.

  “We were looking for food and water,” Jeremy said. “We found some.”

  Everyone was getting their two cents in, but Will noticed Annie sitting on the back of a couch just smiling. He put his pool cue down and walked to her.

  “How do you feel about this?” he asked.

  “It’ll be like I have brothers and sisters. A whole fucking lot of them. It can get pretty boring with just your parents around.”

  “Guys, quiet down,” Steven said. “What did they just get done saying?”

  They started again one at a time. “Where is everyone going to sleep?” Gladys asked.

  “Down here works,” Annie replied. “Couches are comfy, and we probably have some extra mattresses we can lay out everywhere.”

  Will expected Gladys to have some objection to sleeping in the same room as him, but she didn’t say anything. The others kept talking, bouncing the idea back and forth.

  “Are you guys always this indecisive?” Annie asked.

  Will smiled. “Pretty much.”

  Annie tousled his hair and then hopped off of the couch. “I should go help Sarah with dinner. We have a lot more mouths than usual.”

  ****

  The dining room table wasn’t big enough to seat everyone, and a few of the teens ate on the liv
ing room couch. Candles provided the only light, save for a lantern in the dining room, and blankets and curtains blocked the windows.

  “Thanks again,” Steven said from the living room. “For dinner, and for everything else.”

  “It’s the least we can do,” Bill said. He turned to Alex. “I’m sorry I shot you. In a million years I never thought I’d say that to someone, let alone a kid.”

  “It’s a different world,” Alex said. He took a bite of tuna casserole and swallowed. “Don’t worry about it. We’re cool.”

  Will stood up with his plate in hand; he had finished eating first. He often did, as he seldom spoke, especially while eating. It was the first time in years he had finished a meal in a place he didn’t call his home, and he wasn’t sure where to go or what to do.

  Sarah noticed him standing there and said, “Just put your plate in the sink, honey. Try to scrape off what you can.”

  Will thanked her and did as she asked, and when he turned from the sink, Annie was entering the kitchen with her plate.

  “You busy?” she asked.

  “I don’t think I really could be,” Will said.

  “I want to show you something. Come on.”

  She scraped her plate off and put it in the sink, then walked through the living room. Will followed her up the stairs and down the hall, to the door with the Jolly Roger on it.

  “This is your room, right?” Will said.

  “Yeah,” Annie replied. “I said it was off limits, but you’re cool.” She opened the door and went in, and Will stood at the threshold for a few seconds. It was dark inside, and a smell emanated from the room that set it apart from the rest of the house, and suddenly Will wanted to be anywhere but here.

  Annie reached across the frame, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him in. “God dang. You act like you’ve never been in a girl’s bedroom before.”

  “I…” Will looked around. The room looked normal enough. There was a bed, clothes lying around, a chair at a desk, and loose papers everywhere.