The Feral Children [A Zombie Road Tale] Box Set | Books 1-3

by Simpson, David A.

  “I think it’s over.” Vanessa said softly, almost as if she was afraid it would hear her and come back for them.

  Donny nodded and stroked Yewan’s neck. He could feel the fear in the big cat. Could feel the trembles of her muscles under his fingers.

  “Help me with this.” Kodiak said as he tried to open the door. He needed to get out and find Bert. Harper’s slap had hurt but the words hurt more.

  The crossbar was bent and he couldn’t push it up out of the heavy steel bracket. It was jammed tight.

  “Gimme a hand guys.” He told Donny and Tobias and they hurried up the stairs. Harper was crying bitterly as Vanessa and Swan tried to comfort her.

  “He’s dead. I could have saved him.” They heard between the sobs. “He didn’t care.”

  The boys threw their backs into the bar and tried to ignore her, they didn’t know what to do about a crying girl. The bar wouldn’t budge.

  “Something must have hit the door pretty damn hard to bend this.” Tobias grunted “It’s solid steel.”

  They dug out more flashlights and searched the room for anything they could use as a pry bar. At one time it had been an expensive concrete storm cellar in an area along tornado alley. When the owners had it built, they’d had children and had been worried about their safety. They’d held drills and every member of the family knew what to do, all the way down to the littlest who was in charge of bringing the hamsters. It was well stocked with emergency food, flashlights and a hand crank radio. They had water, blankets and a camp toilet. Years passed, nothing happened, the children grew up and went off on their own and now it was used for storage. Old bicycles, tractor parts and baby seats that were too nice to throw away. Now everything was covered in a fine film of mold, the wooden shelves were rotten and during the rainy season water stood stagnant in the floor. It had been a decade since the old farmer had been down the steps and the sum total value of all the things inside would have been zero dollars and zero cents. For the children, they turned out to be very valuable indeed.

  34

  Salvaged

  Harper wanted to scream in rage. It was no use. The thick steel door was bomb shelter quality; they weren’t going to cut through it. Even if they could whatever the tornado had dumped on the other side had buried them. Kodiak’s Warhammer had pried the locking bar loose but the door hadn’t budged. No matter how hard they pushed against it, no matter how many pry bars they jammed into the frame, they couldn’t move it a fraction. Something big was laying on it. Maybe the house, maybe a tree, maybe a bulldozer from the next county over.

  Three days. Three long days and nights they’d been trapped in a hole in the ground. The darkness was absolute which led them to believe there wasn’t simply a tree or something on the doors, they’d been buried alive. No light seeped around any of the edges. They had gone through all the junk on the shelves and some of it had come in handy. The camp toilets and the chemicals in plastic bottles were still good. Some of the home canned goods were fine. Whoever had done it years ago had taken the dampness into consideration and dipped the lids in wax. They had enough food to last them a few weeks, long enough to dig their way out, but that wasn’t the problem. They were running out of air. Whoever had built the shelter hadn’t added drainage or a fresh air vent. It was basically a concrete box with a military surplus security door sold to worried homeowners by slick salesmen and built as cheaply as possible. They found a crack in the ceiling in one corner and had decided to break through there instead of the steel of the doors. Once they got through the concrete, there should only be a few feet of dirt. They hadn’t anticipated the steel mesh imbedded in the cement to hold it all together. Getting through it was slow and tedious work that consisted of hammering each strand back and forth a few thousand times until it broke. Concrete dust had filled the air the first few days but now it had all settled. That wasn’t the reason it was getting harder to breathe. When they realized they were slowly dying of asphyxiation, they stopped trying to make the hole big enough to squeeze through and concentrated on busting the rest of the way through the concrete. They had to break through, they needed an air supply.

  Harper still sulked, still blamed Kodiak for Bert’s death. If they hadn’t been trapped in a black hole, if things weren’t so frustrating and dirty and smelly, they probably would have blown off a little steam, found a quiet spot and talked things through. Penned up so closely together with no privacy, not even to go to the bathroom, it was easier to stay mad. It was easier to redirect anger at somebody who had dragged you into the tomb you were in than be mad at an animal who just left a load you stepped in. He hadn’t tried very hard either she told herself. She’d rejected his halfhearted apology and he hadn’t tried again. Fine. She wouldn’t have accepted it anyway.

  They were hot, sweaty and already down two flashlights, their batteries dead. Swan was feverish, the bites from Diablo were infected and her wolves knew something was wrong with the pack mother. She sat in a corner and dozed most of the time. She would be the first to go, Harper thought. She was the luckiest. She barely knew what was happening.

  The boys had built a rickety platform and took turns with the hammers 24 hours a day. Nobody was getting any sleep, everybody was irritable. Even if they broke through and got some fresh air, would they have enough food to last until they made a hole big enough to crawl through? What was worse, dying from lack of air or dying of hunger or thirst? Would they kill their animals and eat them? Would the animals go mad from thirst and attack each other or the children? The situation was grim and she was fine to stay angry for a while longer. It made things easier. You didn’t care if you were mad.

  Tobias paused his chiseling at the concrete and let out a whoop.

  “I’m through!” he shouted and started pulling out handfuls of dirt. It rained down and made a pile on the floor. When he was shoulder deep against the ceiling he called for a spear and Vanessa handed hers up. With a final prod, grass and leaves tumbled down the fist sized hole and sunlight shone through. They cheered and gathered around, sucking in the cool, clean air. It tasted good, she’d never known it to have a flavor before but it was almost sweet it was so clean and pure.

  The wolves smelled the danger first and their growls were heard above the happy chatter of the kids. Everyone got quiet and looked to them as they eyed the hole, fangs bared and low rumbles in their throats.

  “Oi, anybody down there?” a British accented voice shouted down the hole from above.

  Nobody answered, too surprised at what they heard. There were the sounds of a scuffle above and then the gekkering barks of excited foxes shoving their noses into the hole. Zero answered back with a bark of his own and then they heard Caleb shouting. There was a chattering from the monkeys, the British guy yelled something then they were yelling right back, nearly dancing with joy.

  “Move over you little hellion.” they heard him say and his voice replaced Landon’s hollering down at them.

  “Have you out in a bit.” He said. “I think we found the door. Seems to have a Cadillac parked on it. Might want to stand clear.”

  Now that they had a hole letting in the sounds of the outside world, they heard diesel engines idling, the sound of a chain being hooked to something and the screeching of metal and crunching of wood as the car was dragged off the door. Dirt was shoveled off, boards and tin tossed aside and crowbars jammed into the frame to pry the bent door open. A dozen hands grabbed it from the outside and pulled it open. Bright light illuminated the cellar as dirt spilled down the steps. They squinted up at a tall figure silhouetted in the sun as three little kids ran around him and down the stairs, ignoring him telling them to be careful.

  Caleb, Landon and Clara, followed by a trio of foxes and chattering monkeys raced down the stairs and into their arms.

  “Ewwww. You guys stink.” Landon said after hugging them all.

  “Yeah, smells like poop.” Caleb added. “Come outside, meet our new friends.”

  “I think that’s you.�
� Tobias said and tried to rub armpit sweat on him. “We’ve been bathing in rose petals the last few days.”

  Harper and Vanessa helped Swan up the stairs as Donny lent Analise a shoulder to lean on. Kodiak and Tobias gathered their saddlebags and weapons and followed the tribe out into the sunlight. He squinted at the destruction and saw an old red Cadillac on its roof off to one side. The two-story farmhouse was spread out across the fields, a lot of it on the mound of the storm cellar. The barn was completely gone, the only thing remaining was a brown square of dirt where it had been. Harper squealed and ran for Bert who had his head up in a tree that had somehow managed to stay standing. He was languidly picking at the few leaves that had survived the winds. When he saw her running for him, he lowered his head and licked her salty, blonde hair. She hugged him tight then let him get back to his foraging. Her eyes threatened to overflow, she couldn’t believe it. Maybe Kodiak had been right to let him run free. The barn was gone, if she would have gotten him inside, they would be too.

  The people that came to help kept their distance. They knew the animals were friendly, they knew the kids treated them like household pets but that was them. They weren’t too eager to run up on a thousand-pound bear or a pack of wolves and introduce themselves.

  “I guess you’re those world-famous wild kids.” A scruffy bearded man said when he stepped up after a moment. He was tall, skinny, wore a wide grin and a trucker’s cap.

  “And you must be Kodiak.” He added and stuck out his hand. “They call me Scratch. Heard a lot about you, those little one’s never shut up. Pleased to finally meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Kodiak said. “Thanks for pulling us out. One of my tribe needs to see a doctor. Do you have any?”

  “The best in the territories.” He answered and registered Swans sweating face and pale complexion. “Come on, let’s get her over to the ambulance, we weren’t sure what kind of shape you’d be in when we found you so we came prepared. One of the SS sisters is standing by, she’s just a little wary of the bears.”

  “SS sisters?” Kodiak asked and Scratch looked around and held a finger up to his lips.

  “Uh, I mean Sara. Best not to let them hear you say that. And if they do, you didn’t hear it from me.”

  “Okay.” He answered, not sure he understood.

  Swan refused to let them help her walk, told them she wasn’t an invalid, just needed a little booster shot.

  “Hyenas have a nasty bite, filthy things eat the undead.” She told Sara as she carefully unwrapped the soiled bandages on her wrist.

  Sara eyed the wolves nervously, they were huge and hovered around the girl protectively but once she saw the wound, she ignored them. She had work to do, the wolf girl could lose her hand if she didn’t get that infection under control.

  “How’d you find us?” Kodiak asked as he was introduced to the others that made the slow trip out to search for them. The giraffe knew where they were, it just wasn’t in any particular hurry. It stopped frequently to nibble leaves.

  “Well, that long-legged critter over there showed up at the gates after the storm blew through. He still had the saddle so we figured he was from your group. We’ve been expecting you for weeks. We were all trying to figure out what to do with him, when those three little savages came tearing up the street all painted up like Indians on the warpath toting ice picks and knives like they were ready to go to war. They were sure some guy named Gordon had ambushed you. Once we got them calmed down, President Meadows sent a rescue party. That giraffe led us straight here, although he took his sweet ass time.”

  “I need to thank him. Is he here?” Kodiak asked as he scanned the half dozen vehicles and the people gathered near them, some still keeping a safe distance.

  “Well, he is a she and that’s her standing by that big ugly fella.” Scratch laughed and pointed at Lacy and Gunny.

  35

  Vanessa

  Vanessa soaked up the warm sunshine and inhaled the fresh air. The storm cellar had been the fuel of nightmares. She had already been preparing for the end, she really believed they would die down there in the blackness after the batteries gave out. She shuddered at the thought. She walked away from the hole in the ground, spread her arms wide, tilted her face to the sun and let it wash the darkness away. She would meet the rescuers in a minute, she needed this.

  When she lowered her arms, finished her prayer of thanks and opened her eyes, a man was a few yards away, patiently waiting for her to finish. Ziggy was between them, wings up in a protective stance as she hopped from foot to foot. He was silently crying, the tears rolling down his cheeks were from pure joy and the smile that split his brown face went from ear to ear.

  “Daddy?” she whispered. “Is that you?”

  “It’s me, baby girl.” He said, almost choking. “It’s me.”

  He held out his arms. She felt lightheaded. The earth threatened to spin out from underneath her. The spear fell from suddenly numb fingers. His beard was gray and full, his hair longer, but the rumble of his voice was distinctive and unmistakable. She’d know it anywhere. It had calmed her fears of monsters under the bed, it had sung her to sleep and it had been firm when she’d done wrong.

  “Daddy!” She screamed and raced towards him.

  Ziggy followed behind, wary and ready to defend her chick. She couldn’t believe her eyes; it just couldn’t be. He’d been in Dallas for work the day her mom had dropped her off for the field trip. She had watched on her phone as the city was overrun before the lights went out for good. In her heart, she had buried him a year ago.

  She leaped for his open arms and he caught her, drew her close to his chest and hugged her tight. He let out a laugh of pure joy and swung her around in circles.

  “My baby.” He cried softly. “My baby. I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Daddy, I thought you were dead. What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

  “It’s a long story, baby girl. I’m here and you’re here now and that’s all that matters.” He whispered.

  He wondered what his daughter had been through, what hell she must have endured and how many of the stories he heard on the radio were true. She was a foot taller than he remembered and lean. Her straight ironed hair was gone, in its place a tight mohawk. She was muscular and athletic, with no trace of the baby fat he had tickled when she was younger. Her face was covered in ritualistic scars, faded war paint and machetes hung at her waist. Her leather armor was crude and thick, hand built for comfort and functionality over looks. It showed signs of hard use and was scarred like her body. He decided he didn’t care what she had been forced to do to survive; he felt only pride that she had.

  “You need to meet my tribe.” She said and pulled him towards the others. “How did you know I was here?”

  “They’ve been talking about you for months.” He replied. “Most of us didn’t believe half of what we heard; you know how Bastille is.”

  “Never heard him.” She said. “We didn’t have a radio.”

  “Oh.” He said. “So anyway the three youngsters made it to Lakota and they told all kinds of unbelievable tales. He’s had them on his radio show at least once a week. They said there was an African warrior princess who rode an Ostrich into battle, that she was fierce and brave and made the best S’mores sandwiches. They said her name was Vanessa and even though she was nice most of the time, she made them learn how to read even though it was hard and I knew it had to be you. You’d told me you were going on that field trip.”

  The bears had discovered the strangers had food and were fast becoming best friends with anyone who tossed them a fish or hamburger.

  “This is my dad, Donald.” She announced as they approached her group that was gathered around the ambulance, watching the doctor work on Swan’s swollen hand.

  “And this is my tribe.” She said with pride and introduced them and their animals.

  Sara cut them off halfway through the introductions.

  “You can get to kn
ow each other later.” She barked. “We’ve got to go, I need her in my clinic, I don’t like the way this infection has spread.”

  “Wait.” Kodiak said and stopped her from pulling the door closed.

  He quickly signed to Swan, asked her if she was okay getting separated. Do you trust these people?

  They took care of the triplets. I think it’s safe.

  We’ll be right behind you. He signed and let go of the door.

  “Scratch!” she yelled. “Get us back pronto, but don’t drive like an idiot. We have a patient back here that needs medical attention.

  “Yes ma’am!” he saluted “Needs a bath too, she’s kinda ripe.”

  He threw Swan a smile and a wink then hurried away. He didn’t see her snarl and glare.

  “I’ll ride with her.” Harper said and ran for the passenger seat. “Donny, can you make sure Bert gets back?”

  He nodded and Kodiak felt the rebuke. His cheeks reddened a little but he held his tongue. She was still mad. He didn’t understand why but didn’t have time to figure it out now.

  “We need to get you to Lakota.” Lacy said. “John, do we have a trailer to haul the giraffe?”

  “Not really.” Gunny said. “But Tommy can rig something up if we need it.”

  He turned to address the boy who seemed to be their leader, the wild looking one that rode the Grizzly. “We’re only about ten miles out, if you kids want, we’ll get trailers out here for your animals. If you want to finish the trip on foot, that’ll give us some time to get finish setting up your accommodations. Your choice.”

  Kodiak glanced at the sun.

  “It’s a quarter after three.” He said. “We can make it tonight but I’d rather take it easy, get cleaned up and come in tomorrow.”

  Gunny looked at the sun then glanced down at his watch. Twelve after three. The kid was good. They talked for another half hour, got to know each other a little and had dinner on the tailgate of Gunny’s truck.