He managed a short laugh before erupting in a coughing fit. “If you haven’t killed me yet, I’m not gonna die here. Seriously.” He flashed her a feeble smile.
Placing her face close to his, she tucked in the top of the blanket and said, “Night, night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the zombies bite.”
“Oh, yeah, that’ll get me right to sleep.”
“Well, bedbugs ain’t much better. Besides, harder to shoot bedbugs. Good night, Floyd.”
She gave him a long, soft kiss on the forehead as he faded into sleep. For the first time in more than a year, he had no bad dreams.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Floyd was out of commission for two days before his fever finally broke. At least once or twice a day, the ranger would come over and ask how he was doing. He kept his distance and never entered the guard shack while Floyd was ill, but he did bring bottles of water. As he explained to Mikki, there were other diseases to worry about besides the Undead Disease. There was cholera, meningitis, and a hundred other nasty bugs that could spread through a small community like wildfire, and they had no cure for any of them.
Mikki grew to like the ranger, whose name turned out to be John Martin. He was the strong, silent, no-nonsense type. He was a kindly man, carrying the burden of his entire community on his shoulders. Mikki didn’t know how many people were actually in the compound yet, but if this man was their leader, they had to be good people.
Bob was just the opposite. Fairly tall and skinny, he was a chatterbox. He would have stayed all day talking to Mikki—or talking at Mikki—if Ranger Martin would have let him. He was clearly smitten with Mikki, and closer to her age. He was about 27 and was heartbroken when she told him Floyd was her husband. She would have to let Floyd know they were “married” the next time he woke up.
Bob seemed like a nice guy, but she didn’t want him drooling over her all the time. She supposed that was one reason she liked Floyd so much. He never seemed that interested in her as anything but a fellow Zombie Hunter. She knew that inside, he did want her, but he never acted on it. That made things a whole lot simpler. And besides, he really did care about her. That’s one reason she was actually glad he was sick. She got to take care of him and show him that she really did care, too. Besides, he was so cute lying there like a little boy, staying at home, sick from school.
Floyd moaned and sat up. Mikki jumped to his side and felt his forehead. “Finally!” she said. “Fever broke.”
“Water?”
She handed him a bottle of water the ranger had dropped off. As he drank it, he noticed a piece of paper on a clipboard.
“What’s that?” Floyd asked.
“That? Oh, that’s us. When we first met.”
Mikki showed him the clipboard with a sketch she had drawn on a blank piece of paper. She explained that she had drawn it while watching over him the past couple of days. It was a pretty good likeness of Floyd in his paintball armor and Mikki with her football helmet.
“You aren’t that tall,” Floyd commented.
Mikki snatched the paper away, saying, “Hey! It’s my picture! I can be as tall as I wanna be!”
She sounded hurt, but Floyd laughed. He took the picture back from her.
“Seriously, you did a great job, Mikki. I didn’t know you were that good with anything that didn’t kill people.”
“I can kill people with a pencil if I have to,” she countered, nonchalantly.
Floyd was truly impressed. Not that Mikki could kill someone with a pencil. He knew that. But she was quite the artist! Mikki seemed to have a lot of hidden talents. And their outfits had certainly been upgraded since then. He asked if he could keep the picture and her face lit up. She was truly flattered. He folded it carefully and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
Mikki filled him in on the ranger and his crew. Some of the men were very interested in taking out the last of the raiders, but the ranger was nervous. He said they couldn’t afford to lose even one man. It seems everyone but Bob and the ranger had a wife and probably some kids in the camp. The menfolk wanted to eliminate the nearby threat to their families but their families were too afraid the menfolk would be eliminated, instead. Stan was the local sniper.
Neither Floyd nor Mikki knew what to do. On the one hand, they wanted to be sure the raiders never bothered anyone else ever again, and Floyd was still pissed that they had shot up his beautiful truck. On the other hand, this wasn’t their fight. They were on their way to California and had their own problems to worry about. The smart thing was for them to patch up the truck and head on out. Then again, what was the point of waking up every day if you couldn’t do something good for someone along the way?
Ranger Martin showed up in the evening and had one of the women with him. “I’m Marjorie,” she said, holding out a hand.
Floyd shook it gently and said, “I’m Floyd. This here is Mikki.”
“Nice to meet you. We don’t get many travelers through here that don’t try to shoot us up or steal everything we have. In fact, you two seem to be the first. Mind if I look you over?”
“Marjorie used to be a Registered Nurse,” the ranger interjected.
Floyd let her take his pulse, look down his throat and flash a small flashlight into his eyes. She tested his reflexes by tapping his crossed knee and felt his throat asking if there was any pain. “He’s fine, John.”
“I’m certainly feeling a lot better,” Floyd agreed.
“Good, then I expect you two will be on your way, then,” urged the ranger.
“Come on, John. They haven’t been any trouble. From what I heard, they have some pretty impressive firepower. They could have come blasting in here like they did with the raiders, but they didn’t. We have no reason to suspect them of anything.”
“We have no reason to trust them, either,” John countered.
“Look, you don’t have to trust us,” Floyd interjected. “I understand. If I was in your shoes, I wouldn’t trust anyone until they proved themselves, either. And we really aren’t planning on staying anyway. We’re tryin’ to make it to New California Haven, if it exists, but the raiders shot up my truck. I just need a way to make repairs.”
At the mention of New California Haven, John and Marjorie’s eyes lit up. They looked at each other, wondering if they dared to hope. “How do you know about New California Haven?” John asked.
“I heard a broadcast on the radio a couple months ago now. Some kinda automatic looped message playing over and over. Then I drove outta range and haven’t heard it since. But I reckon it’s worth checking out.”
“We heard about it on our ham radio,” John explained. “Bob’s our technician. Pretty handy with gadgets. We get power and running water from a small dam upstream. We were talking from someone who claimed to be there, giving us directions. But then the radio went out and we have no parts to fix it.”
“As for your truck,” Marjorie offered, “the raiders have a whole machine shop in their camp. You must have seen what they did to their vehicles. They’ve got welding gear, power tools, everything. They tapped into our power lines so they have electricity, but like us over here, they’ve been smart enough not to put any lights on at night so they won’t attract…anything.”
“We understand that, well enough,” Floyd agreed.
“They drain a lot of power from our camp, but we decided it’s better to just let them have it,” the ranger added. “If we cut the power off, they’d be over here in a flash to figure out why. Best to not give them a reason to come back.”
“Tell you what,” Floyd said, coming to a decision. “If I come up with a plan, and you help us wipe out the rest of the raiders, we all win. I’ll be able to get my truck fixed proper and if I find this place in California, I’ll let them know about you. Hell, I’ll come back myself and tell you all about it if I have to.”
“That sounds right by me,” Marjorie agreed.
“I still don’t like it,” John said to her. “It’s a risk.”
“Staying here and doing nothing is a risk, John. If we sit here, they’ll just build their numbers again somehow. Or someone else will find what they built and take it over. If these two are willing to help us, I say let’s make a move while we have the extra guns. From what Stan told me, they practically took out the whole camp by themselves, anyway.”
“Call a meeting for after supper,” John decided. “We’ll meet in the ranger office and take a vote.”
“You got it. Well, I gotta get back to Stan, anyway.” Marjorie laid a hand on John’s cheek tenderly before heading out. John watched her with worry and concern as she went.
“Stan’s my brother,” he explained to Floyd and Mikki. “Marjorie’s my sister-in-law, but she acts more like my mother ever since…my Lucy died. This camp is my family. I will do anything to protect it. Anything. You two understand?”
“Better than you know,” Mikki answered.
“Alright then. You and your husband stay here,” John said.
Floyd was about to say something when Mikki kicked him in the side of his leg, unobserved. “Oh, we will, Mister Ranger Martin, sir!” she said, jumping up and smiling big at Floyd.
“Good. We’ll let you know what the camp decides.”
The ranger turned and was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The ranger came back with Marjorie and another man after dark. Floyd and Mikki correctly presumed that it was Stan, based on the way Marjorie was hanging onto him.
“We’ve decided to move you into better quarters,” Ranger Martin declared. “But it’s only temporary, and it’s based on your willingness to help. You understand? We have limited resources and we can’t afford to feed and house people who don’t contribute.”
“Understood,” said Floyd.
“And we want to hear about your plan for wiping out the rest of the raiders, if you have one,” Stan added.
“This is my Stanley,” Marjorie said proudly.
You could see the resemblance. Stan and John Martin were both the same height, with the same slender yet rugged build and similar facial features. John kept himself shaved while Stan had short, neatly trimmed beard. Stan looked like he had just stepped out of an Old Spice commercial. Floyd half expected him to start whistling.
Floyd and Mikki picked up their gear and John led them into the camp. It was a small area of eight cabins with a large, unlit campfire surrounded by wooden benches in the center. John pointed to the smallest cabin and said, “This’ll be yours, for now.”
A group of people sitting on the benches and talking amongst themselves stood up to greet the new couple as Ranger Martin brought them into the camp. Floyd and Mikki read their faces as they approached. A couple of them were full of fear, some held abundant hope, and most just wore welcoming smiles. There were several children among them, including a newborn in its mother’s arms. The other kids ranged in age from about 4 to 16. The four-year-old clung to its mother’s skirt. Again, all the clothes were older and worn, but obviously clean.
“This is Floyd and this is Mikki,” Ranger Martin announced. They are going to be with us for a couple of days, then they are heading out for New California Haven.” Everyone’s faces brightened at that, except for the couple with the clingy toddler, who had the sourest looks on their faces.
The various family clans began introducing themselves all at once, welcoming Floyd and Mikki, and asking them questions. Even the Sourpuss Couple shook their hands and offered a begrudging, “Welcome.” It was all a bit overwhelming, yet reassuring. In the middle of a dying world, some semblance of Humanity had, indeed, survived.
Neither Mikki nor Floyd could remember everyone’s names, and they dodged the tougher questions as best they could, explaining that some of the stories they had to tell were not suitable for the ears of children. Everyone understood that, and returned to generalities like where they were from and how they had come to find the camp.
Of course, everyone wanted to know about New California Haven. Was it real? Had Floyd and Mikki been there? Would it send help? Would it take them all in? The two Zombie Hunters had no real answers to give on that subject, so talk turned rather quickly to the raiders. Stan had watched from the tower through his sniper rifle. Even with a high-powered scope, he was too far away to see many details, and wind-blown tree branches would repeatedly block his view, but he had seen enough.
The explosions had been easy enough to see and hear, for one thing. Stan had told them all about how a big red pickup truck had barreled down the interstate, spitting bullets and bombs as the raiders tried to take it out. He had seen two figures in black kick ass and blow up the big snowplow they had all feared would come for them one day. It was as though Sir Galahad and his maiden had slain the dreaded dragon. No wonder several of the campers looked at Floyd and Mikki with hero worship, especially the children.
One of the younger boys remarked, “Cool! They got their names on their guns!”
The Sourpuss daughter said to Mikki, “My daddy says you’re a killer.”
“Your daddy’s right!” Mikki answered, staring intently into the kid’s eyes. The little girl screamed and ran off.
“You wanna see the goats?” asked another girl, about 12 years old.
“Goats?” Mikki asked.
“Yeah! We use ‘em for milk. We got a couple of pigs we’re raising, too.”
Mikki went up to Floyd and whispered in his ear, “Get me the hell outta here, Floyd. These people are driving me nuts. It’s like Mormon Country Safari in here!”
Floyd whispered back, “They’re just trying to be nice. Chill out and play along!”
“Lead the way,” Mikki said to the child, with a forced smile. Anything to get away from this crowd of happy yokels. Any more of this sugar and she’d get diabetes.
Floyd sidled up next to Bob as the women swarmed Mikki, pelting her with eager questions that had nothing to do with knitting. “Ranger Martin said you guys heard a broadcast from New California Haven,” Floyd asked. “Was it a live broadcast or a recording?”
“Well, at first it was just a recording, but I scanned the bands regularly. You don’t always get the best reception with the mountains around here, but when the weather’s just right, you can skip a signal off the atmosphere. One really clear night, I was at the radio and the skip was perfect. I got real person on the line.
“I told him who we are and where we are and asked him to send help. He said they couldn’t send anyone so far away, but if we could make it there, they’d take us in, families and all. He said they had food and medicine and doctors and livestock and crops and no zombies. That was the important part, of course. He was just about to tell me the exact location and how to get there when a tube blew and the radio went dead. That was about two months ago.”
“Tube?”
“Yeah, tube. I was using the old ranger radio leftover from the 1960’s. No digital circuits. All cathode ray tubes. Ancient technology, but radio waves are radio waves and don’t care how you generate them. Now it’s just a big hunk of useless metal.”
“There aren’t any spare tubes around the camp?”
“There were, but the box had been dropped somewhere over the years. Every one of the tubes was cracked or smashed. Not like I can exactly head down to Radio Shack and pick up a spare. The tubes are so old that no one would carry them, anyway. They only other model I even know of is up at the Wilkerson place.”
“What’s the Wilkerson place?”
“Old Lady Wilkerson. We used to call her Crazy Old Lady Wilkerson. Not to her face, of course. Really nice lady, but very rich and very eccentric. Big donor to the ranger’s office. Big back-to-nature freak. Supported all sorts of pro-forest groups, but she almost never came down here. She was pretty much a recluse, even before the disease showed up. Lived in a big custom house up on a big hill, overlooking the forest. We figured she must have died when she stopped transmitting over six months ago, but she had the exact same model radio, so maybe it just blew a tube, t
oo. I’d love to get my hands on that radio for the spare parts.”
“Then why haven’t you taken some men and headed up there to get it?”
“Because that would be suicide,” Ranger Martin interjected, joining the conversation. “Might as well be on the moon. You see these walls around the camp? We built these for a reason. There are creatures in these woods. Creatures we don’t want in here, and we certainly don’t want to meet them out there.”
Floyd looked around, taking a better look. The perimeter defenses were indeed, impressive. The campers had cleared a path of trees and used the wood to form a blockade. Heavy logs were buried deep and stuck out of the ground, angling upward and outward. There were places around the inside of the wall to stand and fire at anything that might approach. There was a line of pointed stakes outside the main wall that served as an additional deterrent. It looked as though the wall could keep out an elephant. No wonder the campsite had remained safe for so long.
“You sure done an impressive job,” Floyd complimented the ranger.
“Outside the walls we grow a variety of crops.” John explained. “The undead creatures in this forest aren’t interested in fruits and vegetables, so we run out during the day to till the soil, plant seeds, or harvest. Same thing with fish. There’s a boat with fishing gear by the lake. We’re pretty safe on the water. Just have to be careful getting there and back. We keep an eye on things from the wall and only head out when it’s absolutely safe.
“We all work together here. The women sew, cook, do laundry, take care of the kids, and Marjorie tends to the wounded when necessary. The men do all the heavy lifting, literally: manual labor, building, repairing, scouting and, when necessary, the shooting.
“But don’t be fooled, every one of these women and most of the kids know their way around a rifle and shotgun. And they’re pretty good with knives, too. They’ll slice and dice anyone who poses a threat to their husbands or children. The raiders found that out the hard way in their first couple of attacks. After that, they preferred to go around us rather than attempt a frontal assault.”
Floyd & Mikki (Book 1): Zombie Hunters (Love Should Be Explosive!) Page 16