“That explains why you bombed the shit out of us then, doesn’t it?” she shot back.
She was still as defiant as ever. I nodded to show that I meant her no harm, so I kept my tone as non-threatening as before. “What happened to your parents? Your brothers and sisters?”
“Dead – what are you, stupid or something? Nearly everyone died in the days after the outbreak.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I replied.
“No you’re not!” she snapped. “Empty words at the end of the world – that’s all you’re good for.”
I took a deep, patient breath and said, “My mother took her own life. We were hiding out in Mewata Armory. We were hunkered down there for six months. She couldn’t take it. I guess lots of people made the same choice as she did.”
Cruze nodded slowly. “My family died on the second day. They were torn apart in front of me.”
The girl shifted her gaze toward Cruze. Her features softened a little. “Everyone has a story of loss, don’t they? Christ, what kind of world is this now? People are animals – sometimes they’re just as bad as the stiffs. What are you going to do with me?”
I blinked. “What do you want us to do with you?”
She shrugged and her eyes slid over to my carbine. “I don’t know … does it matter at this point? We’re all going to be dead soon.”
Cruze shifted herself across the jump seat and leaned in. “That’s a pretty bold statement, Dawn-Marie.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you people freaking dense? They’re going to find you. They find everyone who isn’t part of Eden. They’ll kill all of us including me.”
I gave her a surprised look. “Why would your security people kill you?”
“Because I’m not dead back at that barricade,” she said flatly.
Wow. I didn’t see that coming.
It didn’t make any sense at all – Dawn-Marie was supposed to be a part of the Eden tribe. If we’d left her at the barricade, she could have provided the patrols with valuable information about our vehicles, weapons and what kind of threat we posed to whoever was in charge. I took another sip of my hot chocolate. At least she was opening up to us.
“What can you tell us about how Eden came to be?” said Cruze as she handed the girl a mug of hot chocolate.
Dawn-Marie blew on the rim of the cup for a moment and took a small sip. “Our farm was about five miles outside of Dinsmore,” she began. “Just Mom, Dad and me and my brother Darcy. He’d turned eighteen the week before everything went to hell. We first heard about the outbreaks on the dish … you know, the satellite TV?”
I nodded. “Go on.”
She took another drink and resumed her gazing at the rear doors. “My father decided it was time to take steps to protect ourselves – when the Internet died. TV and radio had stopped broadcasting for a couple of days by then but we still had power from a backup generator as well as an Internet connection. It’s weird how the Internet was the last thing to break down. We followed the outbreak through social media – Twitter offered minute by minute updates from people who were trapped in cities and towns worldwide. Mom got infected when she and Dad went into Dinsmore to get provisions. The village was alive with the creatures – Dad said she was attacked inside the truck. He got her home but she bled to death on the way. My brother tried to stop Dad from shooting her, but she turned right in front of us. The thing she became … it was savage. It was like her memory had been wiped and her mind had been replaced with some kind of feral madness … but you know what I’m talking about. You’ve seen it. Dad shot her in the head and we burned her body. That was almost six months ago.”
I gulped back the last mouthful of hot chocolate from my tin cup, and wiped it out with a rag. Dawn-Marie looked like all of us – disheveled and carrying a thousand yard stare from walking on egg shells the better part of a year. I’d seen that look before, in pictures of soldiers at the front during the Second World War and in some of the men from the King’s Own who’d returned from Afghanistan.
She had a scar over her left eyebrow that looked to be still healing and I noticed the stitches she’d been received were a hell of a mess – like someone had closed the wound with a sewing needle and thread.
Dawn-Marie had given us her personal story of surviving those first terrifying days, but I was no closer to learning about Eden, who ran it and what kind of threat that it posed. And we didn’t have time to take a trip down memory lane either. I wanted to find out as much as possible as quickly as possible and get our carriers the hell off Eden land, so I decided to take the direct approach.
“How soon after Day Zero did Eden start to take shape?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t tell me to go to Hell again.
She avoided my gaze for a short moment and that’s when I realized she was ready to tell me what I needed to hear. “Eden was an idea that made sense when everything was insane, okay? After Mom died, we fought daily battles against the monsters. We’d drive around in Dad’s pickup and shoot the creeps as soon as we saw them – we eventually ran out of ammunition for Dad’s hunting rifles, and we had to rely on smashing their heads in. Dad was killed two months ago clearing a farmhouse. Darcy got infected and had to be put down. I was on my own for a week when Sunray’s people found me. After that, everything changed.”
Sunray?
Cruze and I quickly looked at each other. We knew what Sunray meant because it’s a term no civilian would ever use. It means a formation commander, or leader, and Dawn-Marie’s use of the term immediately confirmed my suspicions that a military element was probably behind the creation of Eden. Now we just had to figure out precisely who Sunray was.
But we weren’t prepared to let her know that we understood what Sunray meant, so Cruze decided to play it cool. She tore into the wrapper on a granola bar and offered the first bite to Dawn-Marie. She shook her head. “Sunray … is that a person, or is it code for a group in charge of things?” asked Cruze.
“We were told it was a person,” said Dawn-Marie. “From the base up in Wainwright. All of Sunray’s people are from there.”
“How many?” I asked, hoping like hell that we weren’t up against a battalion-sized unit. “Maybe a hundred, maybe a thousand … nobody knows really.” she said, her voice trailing off. “They weren’t bad at first. They offered hot meals, communication between farms and medical help, a sense of order. I think that’s why so many people joined them – everyone was terrified to even breathe. We didn’t know where to turn. They promised to protect us but we’d have to submit to their rules.”
Kenny shifted in his perch inside the turret. “All’s clear as far as I can tell,” he said quietly. “Not that I’m trying to eavesdrop, but I remember hearing they moved troops out of Wainwright to provide reinforcements for the Brigade in Edmonton. They even mobilized the recruits. So whoever this Sunray dude is, maybe he’s not infantry. Maybe he’s a bean counter or something.”
“Assuming it’s a he,” said Cruze. “Hell, assuming it’s just one person – it might be a pseudonym for a command structure of some kind.”
I shook my head. “I doubt it. The end of the world presents a hell of an opportunity for your run-of-the-mill megalomaniac. Dawn-Marie, you said that you had to submit to a bunch of rules. What kinds of rules?”
“Stuff about keeping order and security,” she said quietly.
“And Sunray’s security patrols – two or three man groups. Women and girls would have to watch their backs or they’d take what was referred to as certain liberties. I’ll let your imaginations fill in the blanks as to what those liberties were. I found out about it the hard way, but whatever.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Cruze said with a sharp edge to her voice. Dawn-Marie simply nodded and from the look in her eyes, I didn’t have to ask what she meant.
“They fucking raped you?” said Kenny as he peeked down from the turret. “Bastards! If that’s the kind of shit this Sunray dude allows then I’ll be happy to put a fucking bullet
in that asshole’s head.”
There was dead silence in the carrier for a few moments. Dawn-Marie’s revelation confirmed to me that she wasn’t one of the bad guys. If anything, she was a victim and it sounded like everyone living in Eden faced danger not only from the creeps, but also from Sunray, whoever the hell he was.
She glanced at her wrist. “I’d appreciate it if you guys would cut me loose. I can’t feel my hand any more.”
I reached for my Buck knife and was about to cut the cable ties when Cruze grabbed my arm. “Wait. How can we know to trust her? She might decide to go postal all of a sudden.”
I glanced at Dawn-Marie. She looked me square in the eye. “Where the hell would I go? You guys outnumber me, and I’ve been pretty open about what got me stuck in this tank with a bunch of wannabe soldiers from Cowtown. It’s like I said before: I’m dead if they find me because I should have died defending the town.”
“I believe her,” I said to Cruze as I pulled out the knife. “We’re all she’s got for now. Dawn-Marie knows that if she does something stupid, she’s as good as dead.”
Cruze threw me a reluctant nod, so I reached over and cut the tie. Dawn-Marie’s arm dropped down onto her lap like a lead weight.
“Thanks,” she said, as she massaged her wrist. “Listen … I’m living on borrowed time. We all are. If Sunray doesn’t find us, we’ll wind up getting our asses chewed off by the creeps.”
“We’re in the business of surviving,” said Cruze with a note of determination in her voice. “We have a plan – to get as far the hell away from civilization as we can get. We’re going north. There’s an outpost of some kind up there.”
She snorted. “You’re talking about Sanctuary Base, right? We’ve heard about it on the shortwave radio. It’s a hell of a trip from here, assuming the place still exists and hasn’t been overrun with the dead.”
“You had shortwave?” I asked. “Back at the farm?”
“That’s right,” she said. “All I know about Sanctuary Base is that they’re made up of army reservists and First Nations militia – real badass types. My Dad was trying to figure out a way for us to get up there and join them – they sounded like they had it all figured out.”
“Does this Sunray know about them?” Cruze cut in.
Dawn-Marie shook her head. “If we do then it stands to reason everyone knows. We didn’t tell a soul outside of our immediate family. I didn’t even tell the two gunners Sunray left in Dinsmore to keep us on our toes.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “The two guys in that front-end loader – they were Sunray’s people?”
“Yeah. They brought that gun with them two days before your people showed up.”
“And that’s how they’re keeping everyone in order, right?” asked Cruze. “You’re all forced into service.”
Dawn-Marie tapped her nose. “Bingo. The rules are that the rules change on a moment’s notice. Sunray’s people took stock of all the vital resources on every farm – from the grain in the bins, to livestock, to fuel. A few farms resisted. They were taken care of.”
“That’s why you started shooting at us,” Cruze said grimly. “If you hadn’t, those guys on that machine gun would shoot whoever refused.”
She drew her knees up to her chest. “That’s right. They were enforcers. Most farms have an enforcer or two in place to keep everyone in check. The security patrols happen when there’s a shift change. Two new enforcers arrive to replace old ones – when they leave, they do a roving security patrol on their way to the next farm or small village. They’re switched out so the enforcers don’t get too cozy with the locals. Two weeks on duty and two weeks later a new couple of enforcers come to town.”
“Jesus,” I whispered. “He doesn’t even trust his own people.”
Cruze looked unconvinced. “If all this is true, then why didn’t you guys fight back? If people wanted to opt out of Eden then why not whack the enforcers and be done with it?”
“They did radio checks to Sunray every twelve hours,” said Dawn-Marie. “If one of the enforcers wasn’t on the radio to give a situation report, Sunray would know what happened. An example would be made of them … it might be what happened to those two people you found strung up on the wire. Who knows?”
Holy shit.
Eden wasn’t the Promised Land for Day Zero survivors. It was a tightly run prison, whose guards worked two-week shifts. I had to admit, it was a brilliantly simple method of establishing and maintaining control over the population. You either cooperated or faced swift punishment, usually involving a bullet to the back of the head. Maybe that family we found in the barn back at Neapolis were people who had tried to opt out of Eden.
A tiny knot of fear wound itself tightly in center of my chest. Not only did we have creeps to contend with, but we’d somehow stupidly managed to break into a prison. Only this one didn’t have physical walls, just the threat of summary execution if you didn’t play the game.
A military commander who used roving security patrols to keep everyone in line. If his patrols were always on the move then it was entirely possible that Sunray wasn’t operating out of a static location – he was probably mobile.
And very likely an infantry officer with a million times more tactical experience than me.
Fuck.
21
I escorted Dawn-Marie over to my carrier. She was as good as her word and didn’t try anything stupid, but I didn’t entirely trust her. Not because I thought that she might be loyal to the Eden tribe – her story about being kept in an open prison under the watchful eye of Sunray’s people made perfect sense. She just wasn’t one of us. She hadn’t fought for her life alongside my team for the past six months. She was an outsider, and nobody trusts an outsider that easily.
I spotted Sid walking back from an area of dead wood a few meters behind our carrier. In one hand was a shovel and in the other was a roll of toilet paper. I was just about to rag on him for taking a dump without someone providing cover when he flashed an angry look my way.
“She’s riding with us, huh?” he said it more as a statement than a question. Dawn-Marie climbed into the carrier and the armored door closed with a dull thunk.
“She’s got information on what we’re up against here, Sid. That .50 Cal back in Dinsmore? There’s a military unit running Eden. The commander uses the term Sunray.”
I briefed Sid on everything there was to know about Sunray and how Eden had come to be, but from the look on his face I could tell he was quite prepared to drop Dawn-Marie off in the first creep-infested community we could find.
He slipped the shovel underneath a tie-down on the side of the carrier and then lit a cigarette, cupping the burning end with his hands as he took a deep haul.
“I voted for you to lead this thing, Dave. But I’m not backing you on that chick. She needs to go … at first light. When we pull out of here, just drop her off on the side of the road. We can’t trust her, man. She’s not one of us.”
The last thing I needed was to get into an argument with Sid Toomey. While I sympathized with Dawn-Marie’s story of being trapped in Eden, we needed her about as much as she needed us and what we needed more than anything was information. Dawn-Marie could give us an edge.
“Look … Sid, it’s complicated but the reasons for keeping her with us are tactically sound at this point. I need you to back me up on this, okay?”
He took another haul on his cigarette and said, “I don’t like it. You sure you’re not slipping because you sure as fuck screwed up getting us swarmed by the creeps back in Airdrie. I didn’t say anything about it then.”
I clenched my fists tightly and stuffed them in the pockets of my combat jacket.
“Yeah, Sid … I made a mistake,” I whispered but you could hear the anger in my voice. “It won’t happen again.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Bringing along that chick is a mistake from where I’m standing and want to know something?”
“What?”
He stubbe
d his cigarette on the hull of the carrier and said, “If I feel that way, there will be others who feel the same.”
I sighed heavily as I tapped the rear door with the butt of my carbine. Dawson opened it up and I climbed inside with Sid in tow.
Sid might have been right about Dawn-Marie and I scanned the faces of my team to gauge their reaction to her presence in the carrier. Everyone carried a blank expression and had I been playing poker with them, I would have been in a world of hurt.
I briefed Dawson and Doug Manybears in the crew commander’s hatch so that we were out of earshot from Dawn-Marie. Doug was practical – he recognized Dawn-Marie’s strategic value. She was a farm girl, while the rest of us were city-dwellers. Sure, we each possessed some field craft abilities, but none of us knew the first thing about where to scrounge for supplies on a farm, and, as he pointed out, we didn’t even know what kinds of farm equipment operated on diesel versus gasoline. Dawn-Marie could show us what to look for, she was familiar with the area and, the most important factor was that she had knowledge of Sunray’s assets. She knew what we were up against.
Kate took the middle ground – probably so Sid wouldn’t feel his opinion was being ignored. The giant Newfoundlander had always adopted an act first, think later mindset, and Kate Dawson was the only person who could reel him in.
I finished my briefing and Sid took the first sentry shift in the turret. I was about to crawl across the floor of the crew commander’s hatch to catch some shut-eye when Jo tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hey, kiddo, you should be sleeping. What’s up?”
Jo’s eyes narrowed sharply as she hopped onto the crew seat. “I stayed awake because I want to talk about something that’s important.”
I blinked. “Um … okay. You have my undivided attention.”
Jo squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’m part of this team, David, and I want be more like everyone else. I’ve been a helper since we left the city but I can do other stuff, too.”
The North: A Zombie Novel Page 16