by Brown, TW
“Well, I can’t speak for anybody but myself.” Jody shrugged. “What I can say is that we aren’t looking for any trouble. We are simply passing through. If you have been watching, then you hopefully knew that.”
“Saw you all stop to admire our handiwork,” the man said.
Jody felt his body tense. This person was claiming outright to be responsible for the people they’d seen hanging from the overpass.
“Not something you see every day.”
“Maybe not before…a bit more common now.”
“Look, we are not looking to cause any trouble,” Jody said with a sigh. Truth be told, he would not have minded finding a spot close by and making camp, but if it got him and the others out of this situation, he could walk all night.
“Looked like one of the folks you was travelling with was a youngster,” the man said loudly for some reason. “You show us that young‘un, and we feel satisfied that ain’t nobody being hurt…and we’ll let you pass.”
Jody was at a loss. Could this simply be a trick to get him to reveal the location of the others? He was trying to make sense of things when one of the other riders—a female voice—called out.
“We got walkers coming from Sutton’s farm!”
“How many?” the stranger called over his shoulder.
“Ten or twelve,” another voice answered.
“Well then,” the man turned in the saddle, his voice sounding exasperated as if he were dealing with errant school children, “two or three of you go take care of it.”
Jody tried not to let the smile gain purchase on his lips. The man’s annoyance coupled with just how little regard he gave a dozen or so zombies made him suddenly feel just a bit more at ease.
“So, what are we gonna do here, soldier?’ the man asked.
“Well, if you were trying to draw the young’un, as you referred to Kat, by shouting…it won’t work.”
“Why is that?”
“Kat’s deaf.”
The man seemed to consider that for a moment. Slowly, and making a display of keeping his hands away from the weapon holstered on his saddle, he reached up and pulled down the scarf that had concealed his face.
“Name’s George Rosamilia…folks just call me Jersey,” the man said with what Jody first took for a sneer. Then he realized that it was the shadows playing tricks. The man was sporting some serious scar tissue where it looked as if a bite had been taken out of his face just at the bottom and to the right of his nose.
“My name is Jody.”
“Does this mean we’re staying for a while?” Danny called from the Harvester.
***
Major Beers stood over the crumpled, bloody body at her feet. Her gaze came up and she made sure to look into the eyes of everybody close enough.
“Anybody else got something to say?”
Those close enough suddenly found something interesting in a zipper on their coat or a bit of snow on their boots. The ones further back who had heard more than saw what transpired made no attempt to edge closer.
Major Beers glared at the hundred and seven (according to the last muster report) men and women that were hers to wield unless somebody stepped up right now and did something to try and change that.
To be honest, she hadn’t been surprised in the least when Bryce Gillis, her second-in-command had answered her challenge. Still, when two of the dredges that they had picked up in their travels made the move, she was taken aback for just a moment. Neither of those idiots were military. They were simply survivors who apparently considered themselves fit to lead.
She imagined that had something to do with the whole Hollywood image of the apocalypse. It didn’t matter what the cause happened to be, there was always some meathead who ran the show. While she’d certainly met her share of women during her time in the Army who belonged behind a desk, she knew there were a fair share that could hold their own in any situation.
That included a fight.
That included a fight to the death.
Bryce had been predictable. He tried to use his size and obvious strength to his advantage. She was glad that he had never bothered with any of the lethal forms of martial arts such as Krav Maga or the Russian art of Sambo. She’d almost laughed when Bryce went for his knife. The fact that she had been able to disarm him and snap the weapon-wielding arm in two places before he hit the ground had drawn gasps. It had been the follow through when she had flattened his nose with a strike so hard that it had ruptured one eyeball when she heard the first retching and subsequent splash of vomit on the snow.
The two idiots who rushed out after Bryce’s death had actually been anti-climactic. One of them still had wisps of steam seeping from his nostrils indicating that he wasn’t dead yet. The other was lying on his stomach while his glassy eyes peered sightlessly at the sky above.
“So here is the way it will be, ladies and gentlemen,” Major Beers raised her voice loud enough to ensure that everybody heard. “The days of simply allowing deserters to run off in the night are over. I will be hand-selecting my own personal police force. Members of that force will have certain privileges. But when somebody deserts, their task will be to return to me with the offender. That person will be thrown into the cage.”
The cage was something that she had never actually used up until now. It was exactly as named: a steel cage. Now that she was certain that this would be where they made camp for the winter, it had been set up right in front of her tent. Currently there were three zombies inside the cage.
“If they fail, then one of them will take the place of the deserter. That will provide plenty of motivation for them to succeed. Any questions so far?”
“Excuse me, major?” a petite female stepped out of the group. She had short black hair that looked as if she kept it trimmed with her field knife (which she did) and a fading black eye. “What benefits could you offer that make it worth considering?”
For the briefest of seconds, Major Beers struggled to keep her temper in check. She had let things go to the point where this was actually a question. For that, she had nobody to blame but herself. But tighter discipline was on its way. There were always those who wanted to be commanded. There were always the ones who would toss everything aside and follow blindly in the hopes that they would see some reward that was usually entirely self-serving. Or, she regarded the woman who had stepped out from the crowd to speak, if they thought they might find some degree of protection.
“For one, they will be permanently removed from any foraging details but will have the same privilege of first choice when there are luxuries. They will have an attendant of their choosing who will see to their needs, and they will always be served during the early chow with the watch and patrol units.” The major never broke eye contact with the female, so she noted a slight twitch of the eyebrow when the attendant perk was mentioned; that is why she already knew the next question before it was asked.
“And this attendant…what if the person selected is not exactly…willing? Your policy in the past—”
“Is suspended for this one instance.”
This was the one thing she would struggle with. That little bitch Willa could say what she wanted—hell, so could anybody else for that matter—but the new world was about survival. Her unit saw that sooner than most and adjusted accordingly. The only reason that she had fixated on the president’s daughter for so long was because she thought it might provide a good bargaining chip. Now? Now all she wanted to do was live…not simply survive.
With the people under her command, she could carve out a nice little niche and build her own nation. She’s always been a fan of ancient history. In particular, she held what some might have considered an unhealthy admiration for the Spartans. They were warriors. She could be the new incarnation of Lycurgus and bring her society to power. Perhaps, someday, her existence would be one of debate by scholars who refused to believe that a single woman could achieve what she aspired just as Lycurgus was often attributed to mythology.
She was in command of over a hundred people. That would put her group head and shoulders above most of the pathetic pockets of survivors who had managed to last this long. And she would increase her numbers through simple conquest.
“Then consider me one of your first volunteers,” the woman said, snapping Major Wanda Beers out of her dreams of power and grandeur.
“And you do this of your own free will with the knowledge that failure to accomplish the tasks I set before you could result in your death?”
“I do,” the woman swore. “And I choose Bill Wilson as my…attendant.”
“And what is your name?”
“Suzi McFarlane.”
“Wait, she can’t do that!” a man’s voice hollered from a few rows back in the crowd.
“Actually…she can,” Major Beers shouted. “Somebody bring this man…Bill Wilson…bring him forward.”
Two rather large men that the major recognized as original members of her unit shouldered their way through the crowd dragging a large—in a pot-bellied trucker sort of way—man forward and threw him to the ground at the major’s feet.
“We both want in,” the men said in unison.
The major smiled down at the raw, red face of the man apparently known as Bill Wilson. She leaned closer to him and let all emotion slide off her face.
“You have a choice,” the major hissed. “You accept your role as attendant…or…you fight me.”
The man’s head turned just slightly. The bodies of those who had challenged the major’s leadership were all within arm’s reach. His head slumped in defeat.
“I have plenty of positions to fill,” she raised her head and addressed the crowd once more. “We are going to build a stronghold that will become a sanctuary for survivors. But we will also become a symbol of power and might. That will take discipline. Who is ready to reap the rewards?”
In her mind, she had expected a mighty cheer from the crowd. What she received was a few shouts mixed with some lukewarm applause and about half of the heads in the group nodding. It was a start.
5
A Skeleton in the Geek’s Closet
Darkness had taken on an entirely new meaning in a dead world. At first, Kevin was not sure that he had indeed opened his eyes. He rested his hand on his nose but could see absolutely nothing. If it weren’t for Valarie’s snoring, he would have had trouble believing that he was in fact awake.
The dreams he’d been having were already fading, but he made an effort to hold on to at least one image. Seeing his sister’s face—even in a dream—was enough to fill his heart in ways that were frightening. He had spent most of his life trying to distance himself from any real deep emotion. He’d tried to keep a separation between him and his sister when she was born. But that had failed miserably.
And yet, when something as horrible as the real life zombie apocalypse had happened, the first thing he’d done was revert to his old ways and send his mother and sister away. He had been thinking of the one person who always came first in Kevin’s life…Kevin Dreon. In all likelihood, his selfishness had probably sent them both to their deaths. And even worse, it hadn’t been his final act.
His mind ran the tally sheet. Cary; it made no difference that he’d survived, or that he’d been immune. It had been his pouting and acting like a child that caused the situation. Peter King; he’d taken the only qualified medical person that he was likely to ever encounter for the rest of his life and dragged him out in the snow in search of medication for a girl so that he could ease his own conscience. Darrin; sure, it was unlikely that he would have been able to do anything the night that Shaw and his men came, but why hadn’t he posted a watch. Hell, why hadn’t he been on watch. They’d already seen Shaw and his men when they first came through. And just recently…Shari. In fact, he suspected that he would never spend another day in his life without her final minutes coming back to him.
“Try not to make it hurt so much” Those words had become a chant in his head since the moment that she spoke them.
The fact was, if he was being totally honest with himself, he had thought that he was so smart…had all the answers. The truth was that he was making most of it up as they went along. Some of the stuff was common sense; some was stuff that he’d learned, but seriously…who had expected this absolute fiction could ever really happen?
Moving Valarie’s arm from across his chest, Kevin wriggled his way out from under the blanket and crawled around until he found the exit. He made his way up the gradual slope and out into the night air. It was still very dark outside their little dome, but there was enough ambient light that he could at least see shadows and dark shapes.
Once he was relatively certain there were no zombies nearby, he moved to the edge of the overpass and relieved himself over the railing. With that basic function done, he considered waking Valarie and heading out. The fatigue in his bones sounded a sharp veto. Besides, if he was this tired, no telling how exhausted that poor girl might be. It was obvious that she’d had a rough go of things the past few days.
He crawled back inside the cave and nestled back in beside the girl who had stopped snoring and moved on to mumbling. He seriously doubted that he would be able to sleep. He decided that wouldn’t be so bad. At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about dreams.
He was wrong. Five minutes later, his breathing had slipped to the deep, regular rhythm of somebody who was fast asleep.
***
“You sure that you don’t want to head to the cabin with your mom and sister?” Mike asked as they all stood around their cars at Trashmore Park.
“They’ll be fine.” Kevin waved the question away. “If this thing lasts longer than a few weeks…I’d be very surprised. There has to be a few people in the chain of command that actually see this for what it is. Besides, remember when FEMA put out that preparedness guide to survive a zombie apocalypse? You think they did that for fun?”
“No, they did it to raise awareness for disaster preparedness by using pop culture,” Darrin quipped.
“Right, because the government cares about pop culture,” Kevin shot back.
“You think anybody in Washington actually believed any of that bull?” Darrin challenged. “They did that on the heels of a bunch of hurricanes and tornadoes and other natural disasters to raise awareness. They figured that if even a few people took it serious, it would be that many fewer people that they would have to worry about the next time a major disaster hit. That is it…plain and simple.”
“Like you know everything about how our government works,” Kevin grumbled.
“All I am asking is if you are sure you don’t want to go after your mom and sister?” Mike spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension.
A pair of fighter planes raced by overhead, banked sharp to the right and disappeared behind some distant trees for a few seconds. There was a flash and a ball of fire rose skyward in their wake as the jets reappeared and raced north, back the way they’d come.
“Are they bombing our own cities?” Cary breathed.
“Looks that way,” Kevin said with almost no emotion. For the briefest of seconds he considered Mike’s offer.
“We need to get out of the city,” Cary said.
“Before they declare martial law,” Kevin added.
***
His eyes opened, but everything was blurry. The realization that he could see told him that the sun had come up at some point. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to stuff the guilt brought on by his most recent dream into a box somewhere in his mind where it would hopefully be lost forever.
“I’m hungry,” a voice whispered at his side.
Kevin turned his head to find Valarie all the way under the comforter, her eyes peeking out from the shadows. His stomach gurgled in agreement. When had he eaten last? He tried to remember but couldn’t. That meant it had been a while.
“Well then I guess we will have to go out and look for something.”
“We can’t,” Valarie w
hispered.
“Why not?”
The hair-raising sound of a baby cry gave him his answer. Not for the first time, Kevin wondered how many deaths that nasty little trick had attributed to early on.
“Okay.” He climbed out from the blanket and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was not too cold. Sure, his breath still formed little puffs, but by comparison to what they’d been experiencing lately, it really was mild. “You stay put and I will go take care of whatever is out there. Then we will go find something to eat. Does that sound okay to you?” he whispered.
A vigorous head nodding caused the comforter to ripple. Valarie disappeared, leaving Kevin to do a quick check of his weapons. Since he wasn’t sure what he would encounter, he cocked and loaded his crossbow. The only bolt that wouldn’t save your life was the one you didn’t fire.
As he reached the mouth of the tunnel, he heard something to the left and the right. That wasn’t good. He would have to act fast. The option was to duck back inside their little snow cave and wait in the hopes that these things—however many there were—moved on soon. However, he did not want to rely on Valarie’s silence. The very last thing that he wanted to do was have to fight those things inside the cramped space. Or…even worse…if there were several, have the snow cave assaulted from the outside like he’d seen the zombies do to a door or wall. He was confident that he’d built a fairly sturdy structure, but it would collapse if enough pressure was exerted.
Moving just a bit closer, he could now see the shadow of what he thought might only be one zombie to the right. Unfortunately, he could see nothing to the left. His best bet would be to move fast and come up quick.
Taking a deep breath, Kevin moved to the very mouth of the entrance. Rolling onto his back, he grabbed the sides and shot himself out. He slid a few feet before coming to a stop. Three to the left and only the one to the right.