His Jeep was loaded down with all manner of fancy chrome fittings, unique hand carved fixtures and little tiffany lamps he’d gotten from the railroad museum in Sioux City. He’d managed to not break any of the antiques, not get bitten and was finally headed south to collect his pay. If he would have known it would be so much trouble, he would have charged double. Another night dozing in the driver’s seat held little appeal, he was getting too old for that nonsense. The sleeping area in his rig was chock full of parts and he didn’t sleep very well in some abandoned house. His dog may or may not give him enough warning if a horde of deaders came stumbling by. Gallatin was a little out of his way but a real bed, real food and the security of the high walls made the trip worth it.
He’d been here a lot and used to get some decent retrievals. It was a typical midwestern walled city, they all had their own personalities and this one had a reputation of being a little rough. Decent people but a bar brawl on Saturday night was more common than a Sunday social after church. It seemed a lot more laid back this time, though. When he pulled in last night, the town had already rolled up the sidewalks, there wasn’t anyone around like there usually was. It was a cattle town that had survived the winter and the people were working together to build something from the ashes. The town had a real shot at becoming something. They had expanded their offerings to include sheep, hogs and a little buffalo to compete with Tombstone, the other cow town out west. Some of them had been trying to get the shuttered textile mill back up and running, they saw a need for clothes in the future. The supplies from Wal-Mart wouldn’t last forever.
The town had changed since the new mayor took over. It was hard to put his finger on what was different, exactly, but everyone seemed beaten down. Like they’d given up and were just going through the motions. They were surviving, not thriving.
None of my business he thought and laid a piece of Lakota gold on the bar. He signaled the bartender for a refill. The newly minted coin would pay for his room, breakfast, keep his glass full and would still leave a nice tip.
“One for the road.” He said. “I’m going to check out those kids with my own two eyes then with a little luck I’ll get to Lakota before Pretty Boy Floyd’s shuts down the kitchen. I’ll get some real food then, not this slop. Miss Pam makes the best Shepard’s Pie in any of the settlements.”
Ed grunted and made the gold disappear.
“You cleaned your plate though, didn’t you? Surprised you didn’t lick it clean like that flea-bitten mutt of yours does.”
Rye’s insults didn’t bother him, they’d been friends for six months, a long time in this new world. He only cooked steak or pork chops. If it couldn’t be made on the grill, he didn’t serve it and if you didn’t like it you could go somewhere else.
“Reckon we’ll hear you making a fool of yourself on the radio tonight, then.” The bartender said. “If ol’ Bastille finds out you seen them for reals, up close and personal, he’ll be blasting it out all over the territories.”
“Not unless he’s got a bottle of Angels Envy Rye hidden away.” The cowboy said and knocked back the two fingers of amber liquid in his glass.
He made a face.
“Lord, I think paint thinner is better than the rotgut you pass off as whiskey.”
He wiped the back of his hand across his lips, smiled at the finger Ed was giving him and stood.
“Where they keeping those kids, anyway?” he asked.
“That ain’t none of your business, buddy.” One of the guards said then took a pull on his beer. “The mayor said they was in quarantine. That means you can’t go gawping at them. It’d be best for you to hurry your ass up and get on down the road.”
“He ain’t the mayor of me, boy.” Rye said “And it’d be best if you minded your business before you lose a few teeth.”
The man pushed away from the bar in anger, dropped his hand to his gun but Rye’s was already there and he had a small smile on his lips.
The guard’s eyes showed surprise. Nobody was supposed to be armed, just them, just the mayor’s security force.
And retrievers, he remembered a little too late, his mind dulled by a long night walking the wall and the half dozen beers he’d slammed down. None of those hard heads would give up their guns and the mayor had said it was okay. Some of the things they brought in were critical and besides, they paid in gold. He’d had to make an exception for them otherwise they wouldn’t deliver.
The bartender watched keenly. He knew what was coming and didn’t relish the thought of his place being splattered with blood when the retriever unleashed hell. He pulled the double barrel shotgun he kept handy and laid it down heavily on the bar to grab their attention then cocked both hammers to make sure he kept it. The metal on metal click was loud in the sudden hush. Everybody stared at the coach gun. Rye stared at the man, watched his hands for a flicker of movement.
“Now fellas,” Ed said almost conversationally. “That gentleman in the cowboy hat goes by the name of Rye. He’s got something of a reputation and if you are gonna dust up with him, I’d prefer you do it outside. Blood is mighty hard to get out of my hard wood floors.”
At the mention of Rye’s name, the loudmouth turned to look at him. He didn’t look like much. A tall man with a weathered face. He was lanky and he knew him and his buddies could take him, put an ass whooping on him, but he wasn’t so sure about his chances if guns came out of holsters. Yeah, they’d probably shoot him down but it would be after the cowboy had put a few new bullet holes in his gut. He’d heard of him, heard about some of the things he’d done. Rumor had it that he’d walked into a Raiders camp and killed them all. Twenty of Casey’s toughest.
Probably a load of crap.
There had probably only been one or two.
The captives he’d freed were probably lying.
Probably.
He noticed some of his buddies that had stood up when the argument began were easing out of the line of fire and he started to feel very alone.
“Ain’t worth my time.” He finally said and grabbed his beer off the counter then sauntered over to the pool table. Cool and casual. He wasn’t afraid, not at all.
Rye winked at the barman and strolled out to the sidewalk. If they were keeping the kids in the stockyards, he’d find them easy enough.
13
Swan
Swan had walked every inch of the walls looking for a way out. She’d checked and rechecked both doors but they were chained shut. There wasn’t a weakness she could find. Not yet anyway. She looked up at the windows. She could climb up on Bert and pry the wire loose but it was a long drop on the other side. Besides, the guy with the gun would hear it.
She was nervous and on edge. She could feel the walls starting to close in. She hadn’t talked about what happened to her at Smith’s Landing. She’d never confided to any of the tribe how it had felt to be all alone in the midst of their enemies and knowing you were going to die. She blocked it out when the memories tried to resurface. She was a survivor. She was a killer of men. She’d gotten out of that and she’d get out of this. Gallatin wasn’t nearly as bad as Smith’s Landing. At least they weren’t trying to kill them here, just keep them in a prison. The rational part of her could understand their reasoning but the animal in her wanted out, couldn’t stand being penned in. Her gentle nature from before the outbreak had been pushed aside and replaced with a warrior’s spirit. All of them had become something they weren’t a year ago, all of them had learned to be savage.
She finally stopped pacing, settled into a clean spot and started sharpening her blades, her wolves gathered around her. She watched Kodiak as he brooded by Otis. He was hurting. Blaming himself for their situation. She loved him, but she wasn’t happy with him. He should be taking charge, channeling his rage, not accepting their fate. He was pensive and staring at the lighter he always carried. Much like his bear, he was slow to anger. He wanted to think things through. He wasn’t rash like her. Her first impulse was to lash out with wo
rds or weapons and she was deadly with both. Kill first, kill some more then go back and make sure they were all killed. Sometimes that was a good thing, other times it wasn’t. She knew her hot head had caused trouble for the tribe more than once and forced herself to calm. To coil her rage like a spring and unleash it when the time was right.
She didn’t blame him for the predicament they were in, that wouldn’t be fair. Getting to one of the towns had been a common goal they all shared. Worry for Otis had overridden their normal caution and any of the tribe would have made the same decision if it was one of their animals. She whispered a thanks to Mother Earth that it hadn’t been one of her wolves. She would have lost it and killed all three of the men and then set fire to this whole town. If this is what the civilized survivors were like, she had no use for them or their so-called safe towns. It seemed to her that there more evil people than good ones left.
She heard voices coming closer and jumped to her feet. The rest of the tribe had heard them to and snatched up weapons. It was instinct, they weren’t sure if they were in a hostile environment but they didn’t like the way they’d been treated so far and didn’t trust anyone. Calming hands soothed animals but they were tense. Ready. She threw hand signs, told them she’d take point and moved to the open to draw the attention to herself.
Children and animals melted into the dark corners and readied their weapons.
She listened to the sound of forced laughter. It sounded like a woman. Was everyone they met a fake? The door creaked open. Sunlight streamed in through the doors. She kept her tomahawks sheathed but they were ready, her fingers rolled slowly across the heads.
14
Tribe
Kassie froze as they slid open the door and a band of bright light lit up a wild girl surrounded by wolves. She saw the furtive motion of other shapes in the shadows. She felt a shiver. They moved like wraiths.
“Hello.” Linda said. “I’m the doctor here, I understand we have an injured animal?”
“We have a bear that’s been shot by one of your men.” Swan answered, her voice harsh. “They tried to kill him.”
She stood her ground, anger coursing through her and stared at the clean woman in the white scrubs with her perfectly combed hair.
“Um, hi. My name is Kassie,” Kassie said and stepped forward. She could feel the rage radiating from the wolf girl. “This is my mom, Linda. She’s really good, she can help.”
Her eyes went to where Otis lay. “Is it bad?”
“Bad enough.” Swan said but Harper put away her morning star and hurried forward.
“He got hit with a rifle round but it fragmented, there are a lot of pieces in his shoulder, they’re deep.” She said.
“Show me.” Linda said and followed the blonde girl over to the softly grunting grizzly.
She let the big bear smell her then spoke with him for a few minutes before she opened her bag and took out a bottle of hand sanitizer. Otis seemed to know she was there to help and licked the hand that caressed him behind the ears.
The others moved silently out of the shadows, came closer to watch.
“What’s your names?” she asked as she sterilized her hands and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves.
They introduced themselves and she committed them to memory.
“Hold this light.” Linda said and handed it to Harper. She was no nonsense now that the niceties were over. She had a job to do.
“Stay near his head.” She told Kodiak. “Try to keep him calm.”
Kassie felt no fear as she gazed at the bear, only a sense of awe. He was beautiful. His fur was a rich dark brown with silver tips along his spine. His ears and muzzle were scarred from battle. He was terrifying and majestic. She loved him at first sight. Her eyes roved over his body. He was as big as a small car. She’d never seen an animal as large as Otis this close up. His claws looked longed enough to take a head right off the shoulders. His teeth were like steak knives jutting from his jaws. Her heart broke at the sight of the blood splashed against his fur and the sounds of his pitiful moaning.
“Ok, Otis, it’s nasty looking, but I don’t think it’s going to keep a big fellow like you down for long.” Linda said.
She talked to him like he was a person and her gentle bedside manner wasn’t lost on Kodiak. “I’ve got to irrigate it and wash some of the blood off it. It’s going to sting a little.”
Otis chuffed and flinched as she continued her examination.
“What is this?” She asked as she looked at the sticky substance coating the wound.
“Honey.” Harper told her. “We didn’t have any pinesap and moss to make a poultice, so we used what we had.”
“Good thinking. Honey has a lot of healing properties.” She said.
She looked up at the children gathered around her and noticed their scars and stitched up wounds and her heart ached. What kind of hell had they been through? What kind of life had they been living this past year? How had they managed to stay together and stay safe? They had survived the zombies, the winter and who knew what else and now some jumped up mayor was going to gun them down because they didn’t matter. They wouldn’t be missed and he could make a little gold from their animals’ hides. How far had they traveled to find a safe haven? To find grownups, people they could trust?
“Kassie, Honey. Why don’t you explain to them what you overheard? Do it over there, I don’t need any distractions here, okay?”
“I need you with me.” She told Harper. “You’re the medic in your group?”
“I guess so.” Harper said, unsure. “Murray usually told me what to do, though.”
“Which one is he?” she asked and looked over to the backs of the children Kassie was leading away.
“He’s not with us anymore.” Harper said and her face saddened.
“Oh.” Linda said and couldn’t fathom how hard it must have been for them on their own.
“Okay.” She continued. “Are you okay to be my assistant? I’m going to need help with this. I’ve got to debride it first so I can see how extensive the damage is.”
Harper nodded and cleaned her hands with the antiseptic.
“He’s not going to like this part. Keep him calm and still.” She told Kodiak.
“Hand me that probe.” She told Harper and pointed to the one she wanted
Kodiak nodded and rubbed Otis between his ears. As soon as the metal touched his damaged flesh, he growled and tried to stand up. Linda paused. Kodiak pressed against Otis, soothed him until he was back down then whispered softly to the bear to calm him. Linda breathed out slowly, still not believing what she was doing. A thousand-pound bear was being hurt, poked and prodded, but lay still because a little boy wanted him to. She’d never heard of such a bond, not even with well-loved dogs.
Kassie led them to the other end of the barn, away from the door and any ears that might overhear. Her eyes darted between them. The black girl with the ostrich seemed to be the friendliest, or at least a little less hostile than the others. She smiled at her. She looked like a warrior princess, scarred and fierce with her machetes, mohawk and beads. They didn’t clatter around, though. Like the others, she moved like a ghost, silent and light-footed. She held a spear loosely in one hand while she calmed the giant bird with the other. The ostrich’s neck bobbed constantly, assessing the danger. The thick muscles in her legs were tensed, ready to fight or run. Softball sized eyes looked back at Kassie. She was amazing.
She took a sideways glance at the Indian girl with the wolves. She was savage looking. Her eyes were hard and she wore a scowl. A hyena skin was draped over her shoulders and she wore combat boots. Her pants were black military fatigues: loose, comfortable and well worn. Her top was made of soft leather, hand stitched and was reinforced and padded in places. Her armor was plastic and leather her face was painted to resemble the wolves at her side. Her long black hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail with feathers, pieces of antler and other trinkets woven into it. The blades of the tomahawks at her
waist were well oiled and looked like they were razor sharp. Her high cheekbones and brown eyes hinted at beauty under the war paint and the wolves surrounded her protectively.
The boy with her mom that was whispering to his bear was tall. He had a scar over one eye that started at his hairline and ended at his cheek. His arms and neck were scarred. He was long and lean with muscles like bands of steel. His brown hair was long, it hung almost to his shoulders. Like the others, he had mementos braided into it and wore armor made of sports pads or thick leather.
She stopped when they reached the twins and the polar bears. The boy flashed her a peace sign and bobbed his head. His hair was so blonde it was almost white, just like his sister. They were tall and lean and reminded her of the elven people from the Lord of the Rings movies. His hair was as long as his sister’s and had a braid that wrapped around his head and pulled it back from his eyes. They were both covered in tattoos. Some kind of symbols that she didn’t recognize. Wicked looking axes made from saw blades and with wooden handles were in their hands. Long bladed knives hung from their waists. Their skin was so pale that they probably couldn’t tan from being outside; instead they were both showing signs of sunburns. Their massive bears hovered protectively by the strange pair of children.
Harper, the girl helping her mom, was wearing a rough leather top that looked like it had seen some hard usage. Most of her armor was made of dark brown leather that was thick and tough. The chest piece was molded to allow room for her breasts and there was a bird with spread wings painted across the front. It was almost like something Joan of Arc would have worn if her armor wasn’t metal. It was obvious her and Kodiak shared a love for one another. She was petite and beautiful. Her wheat colored hair hung in natural curls. Tiny braids were interwoven through it and like the others held an assortment of treasures.
The Feral Children [A Zombie Road Tale] Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 63