You worked your fingers to the bone at a job to pay for that couch, to build that comic book collection. But when it came down to the heart of things, you couldn't care less about them when you might carry a photo album filled with goodbye letters from people you had fought and bled with.
Staring at the vacant space, Kell briefly considered finding Kate. Unless something went horribly wrong, he wouldn't come back here for a long, long time. Years of friendship carried a kind of emotional momentum, the heart being an illogical thing. He found himself missing her in the way a grown man pines for the halcyon days of his youth he knows he can never get back.
And like that man, he realized they might never have existed.
The romantic in him wanted a goodbye. He wanted closure on good terms. It might not be a storybook ending, he reasoned, but still a positive one both chose.
Kell went back inside.
Life is that way sometimes. People fight. They drift apart. They discover differences too wide to bridge, chasms too deep to fill. It was a little sad, but not heartbreaking. It happened, and you could either roll with it or get beat down.
“Things change,” he muttered to himself as he got back to work.
For Kell, there wasn't a goodbye party. The only close friends he had were either going with him or already at his destination. There were a few people he said goodbye to in the early hours of the morning as their small convoy readied itself, but no heartfelt scenes, no tears. Those few people who he had spent at least some time with wished him well, and that was the long and short of it.
Which was not to say there wasn't a sendoff. Just not for him.
The RV and the rest of the vehicles waited near the gate, surrounded by dozens of people. Lee and Laura were there, quietly waiting by the door of the motor home as Kell returned from his quick jaunt around New Haven.
“Quite a crowd,” he said in a low voice as he joined them, leaning against the RV.
“They made a lot of friends,” Laura said, nodding toward Josh and Jess, who stood twenty feet away.
Will Price stepped forward from the gathering, putting up his hands for silence. The exchange of well-wishes and hugs trailed off. Will did a slow turn, eyes meeting with every person as if to remember the moment exactly. Eventually he returned to his starting point, facing the parting couple with a smile full of genuine love.
“I don't make speeches,” Will said with a chuckle. “And I'm shit at goodbyes. But I'm here, with all these people, to thank you. When everything started to fall apart and people everywhere ran, you stood your ground. When others started becoming fearful of their neighbors, you took people in. The worst of us set out to destroy, to take, and to kill. You reminded us that together, we can build, share, and protect. It's selfish to be sad right now, but I'm guilty. You're leaving to pioneer, which is only possible because you two helped create a community successful enough to allow it. We're proud of you, and we'll miss you.”
Josh looked embarrassed, fidgeting uncomfortably as he listened. To Kell's great amusement, Jess took the compliments with a fierce pride on her face, nodding along in agreement. Probably more for the sake of her husband getting credit than herself, but it still made him smile.
“On a more personal note,” Will said, “you two saved my life. No, don't shake your head. You did. I was hated, forced to live on the kindness of others. You fought for me. You believed in me when I was at my worst. Without you, I wouldn't be in the position I'm in today, which is, as the governor of this community, the power to grant you permission to leave and begin your new life. Your responsibility as citizens are now officially lifted.”
He raised his voice, the tone of command so familiar to Kell ringing out. “But remember you always have a place here. This is your home. You're welcome any time, for any reason. If there is ever anything we can do to help, we'll answer the call. Thank you for everything you've done.”
There was a round of applause, and more than a few people wiping their eyes. Kell wasn't as steeped in the history of the place as the rest of them. For him it was a matter of historical fact, however recent, dry data divorced from having lived through it as they had. Still, he understood. It was easy to lionize people who had been there for you during the worst possible times, and hard to watch them walk away.
The gathering would have lasted for a long time, Kell was certain, but for Will's insistence the party be allowed to get underway. It would be a long drive to where they were going, and every minute of daylight they didn't spend driving was a minute wasted.
“For someone who doesn't give speeches, that wasn't a bad one,” Lee said as the crowd began to disperse.
“Notice he didn't bring up the part where he'll be sending scouts and supplies our way regularly,” Laura added.
“Because he doesn't want anyone to know our little community is anything more than a farming camp,” Kell said.
“Damn right I don't,” Will said from behind Kell. “I don't know what would happen if anyone suspected you were there working on a cure, but I'd rather not find out.”
Kell turned to find Will with his hand extended. He clasped it and shook.
“Keep me updated as best you can,” Will said. “We're working on arranging communications beyond messages carried by scouts, but until then...”
“Use one of the codes you gave me. Yes, I remember,” Kell said.
Will winked. “And even then, nothing too specific. Oh, before I forget; there's a little going-away present for you in the RV. Just something to say thank you, and good luck.”
He nodded to Lee and Laura, stepping away to give his friends one last embrace before they left. Kell raised an eyebrow at his companions, but Laura shrugged and Lee shook his head.
Kell stepped inside the RV. His spear sat in its rack—actually a rack for pool cues, pilfered from a bowling alley—but it was no longer alone. That weathered piece of aluminum had suffered through more than three years of work. There were nicks and scratches along its entire length, which was less than when he had started out since the tip had broken off the year before. At some point it had taken a glancing blow from a bullet, notching a half-melted groove a foot away from the butt. That simple piece of bar stock, sharpened and given to him by a stranger who had taken a risk and saved his life, had itself saved him time and again.
The rack was filled with spears. Seven new ones, all gleaming, all perfect. There were two of wood, fire-hardened, stained, and lacquered to a mirror finish. Three others were aluminum of different lengths and thicknesses, the dull gray both alien in its unmarred freshness and familiar at the same time. The other two were steel, smoky and smooth as glass.
A note was tied to his original weapon with a piece of thread.
“What does it say?” Lee asked.
Kell handed him the note.
“The world is a dangerous place,” Lee read. “A spear is a good weapon for it, because it can be used to kill, but also defend. It can be used to hunt. It isn't just a tool for taking human lives. Yours has seen better days, so I thought you could use some spares. I would say to use them wisely, but I know you will. I would say not to raise them in anger or without understanding the consequences of using them, but I know you won't. I promise not to, either.”
Lee gave Kell a puzzled look. “What does that mean?”
“That he'll think before he starts a fight,” Kell said. “I can explain it in detail on the road. God knows we'll have plenty of time to talk.”
The trip was mostly without incident, which shouldn't have come as a surprise given the well-marked trail of scout signs left by the many people who had made it before them. Drawn by the smell of so many living people passing through, there were more than the average number of zombies, but not so many they couldn't drive on. They took their time, though at one point they discovered one of the renegade UAS splinter groups following quite a distance behind.
Rather than fight, they engaged in some creative navigating and lost their pursuers. Lee doubled back to
make sure.
About forty miles from their destination, the orange markers on the trees and signs changed. Gone were the originals, pained over into solid blobs of colors. New ones took their place, directing them to a different location.
“Any idea what this is?” Kell asked as he slowed the RV to double check the markings.
“No,” Laura grunted, “but those are definitely the real thing. You can see the pattern.”
She was right, of course. Every marker had a small pattern of what looked like random sprays of paint to ensure they weren't being led into a trap. To anyone else, they appeared to be excess dust similar to the outside edge of a stencil.
“I remember how to get to the house,” Kell said. “Do we go there, or follow the new route?”
“Do you think someone wants to meet us in a location away from the farm? Maybe to make sure we're not followed?” Lee asked.
Laura nodded appreciatively. “Or there might be a road out, though they would have put up the symbol for that...I say we follow the new ones. Carefully, just in case.”
“I'll go up top,” Lee said.
“Probably a good idea,” Kell agreed. He heard the other man pull down the ladder leading to the roof hatch, then settle onto the top of the RV after climbing. He had seen Lee shoot with a scoped rifle before. Kell didn't envy their enemies, if this was a trap.
They followed markers, heading another twenty miles north and thirty west of their original destination. He worried about being able to find wherever it was they were going, but once they turned onto an old dusty country road as the marker instructed, his worries evaporated.
Lots of little facts caught up with him at once. This area was far more remote than the previous location. The roads were barely populated by homes, nearly all of the land made up of huge, overgrown farmland. What homes they did spy were themselves very large, the sort of sprawling places you knew held rooms for hired hands, maybe even servants. It would take a dedicated search to wander so far away from any main road.
In a world lacking in resources such as fuel and easy food, and rich in deadly threats, such a search could easily in in tragedy. This place might as well be on Mars for the privacy it would give them.
The red planet had never seen structures, much less anything like the one which brought a smile to Kell's face as it came into view.
A large farmhouse dominated the flat terrain, several large trees shading it. There were two floors, with what looked like a partial third floor or attic room. The thing was huge, as far as houses went, stretching more than twice the width of Josh's house and deeper by far. Big as it was, the barn behind it and to the left dwarfed the house. The tops of several other structures could be glimpsed beyond them, but the land wasn't quite as flat as it appeared, slowly rolling down and away.
Familiar faces worked in the yard, raising chain link fence in sections. A good deal of the fence was already up, braced and reinforced every few feet. Where it wasn't finished, poles dotted the ground in regular intervals, stretching in a great circle whose edge vanished in the distance.
People stopped work as the RV and the rest of the convoy approached, pulling off gloves and tucking them into belts and pockets. Kell shook his head in wonder as he pulled into the long driveway, the gate being pulled open by two pairs of workers.
“Wow,” Laura said.
“Yeah,” Lee added. “I thought we'd be...I don't know, living rough for a while. This is crazy.”
They piled out of their vehicles, hands raised in greeting to the approaching swarm of friends. One face in the crowd stood out to Kell. It was thin, though healthier than the last time he'd seen it. The beard, shot with silver, was trimmed rather than the overgrown tangle it had been before. It was the eyes which caught his attention more than anything. Those eyes had been edged with anxiety and terror—not to mention a bit of madness—on that last meeting. Now they shone with a familiar brightness not seen since before The Fall began.
“About time you showed up,” John said, extending his hand.
Kell laughed, pushed the hand to the side, and picked his friend up in a crushing bear hug.
“No worries,” Kell said. “I'm home.”
Epilogue
“How the hell did you manage all this?” Kell asked as John showed him around the basement.
There were lights burning, the smooth glow of electricity the least surprising element of the place. There was more equipment than seemed possible, certainly more than they had brought to the previous house from the bunker John had been holed up in.
“When your people first showed up, they brought a lot of extra fuel. Two of them went on a trade run with some group and brought back even more. We used it to go back to the bunker and bring this stuff.” He waved a hand casually at the fully-stocked lab which took up the entirety of the basement. “Then they decided the other place was too small and too close to the bunker, so your friend Dan went out looking for somewhere better suited to a large group.”
The brief pass Kell had taken around the grounds had revealed many unexpected sights. Three small wind turbines hummed as they spun, along with a good number of solar panels. They, along with banks of batteries, were among the first items ripped from the bunker and hauled here. It was an advantage Kell hadn't imagined having, one which would make their research much easier.
There was a smaller version of the huge absorption refrigeration unit New Haven had built to keep meat edible, this one twelve feet on a side and eight tall. It looked like any other building from the outside, and shabby at that, but within was an insulated environment—it even had a sort of airlock to keep most of the cold air in—which would be useful in several ways.
Crops were growing, and they would be the second harvest of the year. More than a hectare of potatoes thrived within the area the fence would cover, enough to feed them for a very long time. Several mobile homes had been hauled on their wheels to serve as additional housing, joined by a smattering of school buses, motor homes, tents, and even a shipping container. There was even a system for catching and filtering rain, along with enough water storage to allow them to endure within the fence for months without leaving, if it came to it.
“This is amazing,” Kell said. “I can't believe how much work you've done here.”
John grinned crookedly. “Well, your friends did most of it. They insisted I put in as much time in the lab as possible. For a few weeks, two of them were always gone. I can't imagine what the bunker looks like now, with its fridges, water, and power systems all ripped out. And look! They brought all the other research, and all the equipment. You really should thank them.”
“I will,” Kell assured him. “For putting all this together, for planting crops, for keeping you safe. Not to mention being willing to drop everything to come here.”
John laughed. “They were happy to see others begin to show up a few months ago,” he said. “That was when most of this really came together.”
Kell spent a few minutes wandering the lab, flipping through notes and memorizing where things were. As he explored, he talked about the things he had learned while sorting through medical records at New Haven, and about Josh's injury and temporary death.
Through it all, John listened intently. If Kell had been the creative force behind Chimera, the one thinking up all the ways it could be utilized, John was the workhorse. He had as much experience as Kell in working with it, his knowledge as thorough. When Kell finished talking, he saw John tapping his chin distractedly, deep in thought.
“I know that look,” Kell said. “Talk to me.”
John shook his head slightly, coming back to reality. “Oh, sorry.” He stood and began searching through a shelf stacked with binders and notebooks. “Here it is,” he said, handing a spiral notebook to Kell.
“What is it?”
John pointed to the book. “It's from about six months ago. I've been studying my own tissue samples a lot. I take new ones every two weeks. What you told me about your friend? I
predicted it, or something like it.”
He jogged over to a work table, pulling a similar notebook from a stack. “This is where I've been recording everything I've noticed about myself. We'll have to do a lot of research to be certain, but I think this is a result we'll see a lot. It's probably widespread.”
“Not universal, though,” Kell said. “I read a lot of reports in New Haven. There are kids being born without Chimera in their system at all.”
John's eyes blazed. “An immunity? That's...”
“Unexpected, yeah. That's what I thought. I'd really like to study one of those children. Might be a way for us to use their immunity to stop the zombies without affecting the living.”
“Do you think that's the right decision? To leave people infected?”
Kell chewed the inside of his lip, a habit he hadn't indulged in since before the world had ended. “I don't know. One thing I'm sure of is that I don't have the right to make those sorts of calls on my own. Not after what Chimera has done.”
John put a hand on Kell's arm, as being a foot shorter made reaching any higher awkward. “That wasn't your fault, Kell.”
“I know that,” Kell said. “For a long time, I couldn't believe it, but I do now. But whether it's my fault or not, the consequences are the same. My work did this, and I want to make sure however we move forward, it's a shared choice.”
He glanced around the lab. “Whatever the next step is, we all take it together or not at all.”
Everyone settled in surprisingly quickly. A few days after Kell's convoy arrived, a second group showed up. These were some of Josh's friends, a core group who had decided to migrate as well. There weren't many of them, but they were welcome. All of them learned Kell's identity and the true purpose of their new home before deciding whether to come.
The Fall (Book 3): War of the Living Page 23