“Book about Oklahoma. Did you know Tulsa had secret tunnels under several buildings and hotels? They used them to transport illegal booze during the twenties.”
I looked over at Duncan and Tommy.
“You don’t say.”
Montana Mountains
Darnell woke before dawn, listening to the silence that usually indicated snowfall in the mountains. He and his daughter had spent nearly a month in a small cabin at the campsite furthest south along the trail. They had been spending time at the campsites with the notion that if they stuck close to the trail, it would be the last place anyone would expect to find them, and after the first snows, no one would bother to come after them anymore. They would figure them to be dead or gone forever, which suited Darnell just fine.
Darnell went over to the wood stove and rubbed his hands together to get the circulation going. He took out his knife and shaved some splinters off a small stick, and after arranging the kindling to take a flame, struck a match.
The little fire wasn’t warm yet, but just the promise of heat was enough to ward off the chill that had permeated the small cottage. At this particular campsite, there was a small house, a visitor center, and four cabins just like this one. Inside the visitor center there was little to offer, having just a counter, a reception area, a storeroom, and bathrooms. There was a soda machine, but it looked like it hadn’t been restocked since before the Upheaval.
The house was another matter. It was a caretaker’s home, and by the looks of things, the caretaker had gone out to town at exactly the wrong time and never came back. Darnell and his daughter thought it wasn’t right to just take over the house, so they set themselves up in the farthest cabin from the road. They did relieve the house of all the supplies and edible foodstuffs, so they were decently stocked for the coming months. The caretaker had evidently been a hunter and fisherman, and Darnell used the rod and flies to catch at least one meal every couple of days. Alison wanted to be useful, so she took over the longbow they found and practiced her hand at it. The man had no guns except a replica flintlock, and that wasn’t exactly useful against zombies. The big compound bow they found was too heavy for Alison to try, but Darnell was able to manage it.
The fire grew bigger, and Darnell fed it a couple of small sticks. There had been a large supply of firewood at the house, and the pair had liberated a great deal of it. Darnell spent a day cutting a third of that wood into kindling, which wasn’t easy since he had to do it as quietly as possible. He didn’t know who might be out there, living or otherwise, and he’d rather not be disturbed by anyone.
To that end, Darnell had taken several pine branches and tied them together above the chimney. The smoke that came out of the cabin was dissipated before it got up in the air, and helped hide them from anyone who might be trying to locate them by their smoke signature.
Alison came out of one of the bedrooms and rubbed her eyes.
“Morning, daddy.”
“Morning, sweetheart. Feel like pancakes today?” Darnell asked.
“Only if you let me make them,” Alison chided with a smile. “Yours come out like glue.”
Darnell smiled. “True, but you aren’t hungry for a very long time afterwards.”
“I’ll get the mixture and skillet.”
“After breakfast, I think we should hunt the hills to the south. I think I saw some animal up there the other day,” Darnell said, blowing a little on the fire and opening the draft vent a bit more.
“Okay. It would be nice to have some meat for a change. No offense, but fish is getting old,” Alison said.
“Keeps us alive, at least until we get out of the mountains,” Darnell said.
“You’ve said that, like, a hundred times.”
“Always true, every time.”
“Ugh. Wisdom. Save me, someone.”
After breakfast the pair picked up the bows and quivers and headed out. They crossed the river using the access road and made their way up into the hills. The sun was breaking over the hills and lighting up the peaks and contrasting them sharply with the valleys. As they moved higher, Darnell smelled the air, trying to see if he could discern their wood smoke. It was there, but faint. Hopefully, further off it would be gone altogether.
“Daddy!” Alison whispered as she pointed to the edge of the trees.
Darnell looked and saw a decent-sized rabbit casually moving around the base of one of the trees, looking them over with no apparent concern. Darnell figured this rabbit must have had some form of human contact in the past, and was unconcerned as long as the two kept their distance.
“All right, this one is yours. Take your time and make your first shot count.” Darnell kept an eye on the rabbit as Alison slowly drew an arrow and nocked it. She drew back the arrow to her cheek and sighted along the shaft, keeping an eye on the rabbit.
A second later, the rabbit was impaled, the arrow striking it just behind the head and exiting out its throat. The animal jumped once and then fell, its legs twitching purely by reflex.
“Nice shot!” Darnell exclaimed. It wasn’t Alison’s first kill, yet she was beaming. It had been a difficult shot, being about twenty yards on a target that was barely the size of a lemon. “Were you aiming for the head?”
Alison shrugged. “It seemed the easiest, and we don’t lose any meat.”
Darnell chuckled. “Oh, regular hunter now, are you? Well, then, you can skin it and clean it.”
“Ewww! Daddy! No! That’s gross!” Alison complained.
“Shh!” Darnell raised a hand. Something had moved in the woods, sliding in between the trees. He raised his bow and sighted at the man who came closer, stumbling up the hill. It was a zombie, and Darnell waited until it cleared the trees and then loosed the shaft, piercing the zombie in the eye and dropping it in the snow.
“Nice shot, yourself, Dad,” Alison said quietly. She had her own bow up with an arrow ready to fly if her father had missed. That was the drill they had practiced. If they came in contact with the zombies, they were to cover each other’s shot if they could. That was also why they had practiced their archery for the last three weeks, several hours each day. Darnell saw that arrows were better than bullets because they could be retrieved and used again, and in a pinch, he could make his own.
“That zombie is oddly dressed for a person who should have died in the April of the Upheaval,” Darnell said, walking closer. He went over to the dead man and turned him over.
“I’ll be damned,” Darnell said, more to himself. “Lance Clearwater. You should have stayed home.” Darnell quickly removed his arrow and wiped it off on one of the furs the man was wearing.
“Who is he?” Alison asked.
“One of Luke Blacktail’s scouts. Supposed to only work with his brother.” I guess we may be seeing another zombie before too long.”
“Dad, was he looking for us?”
“Not sure.”
“What are we going to do?”
Darnell shrugged. “We’ll put him up a tree, and if his brother shows up, we’ll deal with him, and put him up a tree as well.”
The pair struggled but managed to get the dead man up into the crook of a tree. Darnell muttered his way through a half-forgotten prayer, and the father and daughter went back down the hill with their kill. On the way, another rabbit jumped from a bush, and Alison’s bow twanged. The rabbit was hit mid-air and tumbled to the ground.
“Show off,” Darnell teased his daughter.
A week later, the pair celebrated Christmas as best they could. Darnell presented Alison with a handmade quiver ringed with rabbit fur. Alison gave her father a necklace made from wooden beads she carved herself. Darnell put it on with all the pride of a father receiving a gift from a child who made it in school.
“I’ll wear it always. Thank you,” Darnell said.
“You’re welcome. You know what I wish, though, don’t you?” Alison asked.
“I do,” Darnell said, his eyes getting a little damp. “I wish your mother
was here, too.”
The two went to bed after dinner, and the world was quiet and chill. The snow fell in a light blanket, and the temperature dropped below zero for the first time that winter. A cold wind blew from the north, and the promise of more snow swirled over the mountains.
Darnell woke up in the middle of the night wrapped in his blankets. He’d gotten used to the sounds of the quiet woods, so when a new sound appeared, it woke him instantly.
That’s not a sound I have heard in a while. Darnell thought to himself. I wonder where they are going.
The noise became louder, and Darnell rose out of his bed to see a small car drive by. But it was not like any car he had seen before. It was a like a little station wagon but prepared for war. It was resting on oversized tires and shocks, while the windows were covered with metal blinds. A roof rack held two cargo containers and several gas cans. Darnell could make out one person driving, but there seemed to be another person reading in the back.
The car drove on through the snow, heading north. Pretty soon they would reach the upper pass and head towards the community Cole Hobbes built. Darnell doubted they would be welcome with open arms.
He turned back towards his bed, his concern over the car fading. It wasn’t his problem, Alison was, and running out in the middle of the night to warn complete strangers was a good way to get killed.
The sound of the car faded away, to be replaced by a much louder, harsher noise. Darnell went back to the window and the next sight took his breath away. Dozens of cars and trucks rode past following the first car. The dozens became hundreds, and after a while Darnell stopped counting. He wasn’t even aware of Alison standing next to him.
“Who are they, Dad?” Alison asked with a small voice, startling her father.
“Not sure, but that’s a lot of people moving through the territory,” Darnell said. “Wonder if they are that army the scouts were talking about?” Darnell asked, more to himself than to Alison.
They watched the procession move through the woods and up the road, eventually disappearing into the dark, the trees and mountains swallowing up the sound of their passing.
Darnell sent his daughter to bed, and went back to his own. He thought for a long while about what Cole might do about an army coming up his back door. If they’re half as competent as they look, Hobbes might not have much to say about it, Darnell thought as he drifted back to an uneasy sleep.
Montana Community
“So what do I do with you?” Cole Hobbes said, looking over the man before him. He wasn’t impressed with what he saw before him, but it took a lot to impress Cole Hobbes.
Two days ago, word came to Cole that a large force had come through the mountains, following the old logging roads. Cole knew them well, he’d been over them himself when he first came to Montana. Over the course of the last two years, he had been through them several times and knew how treacherous they could be. What this fool before him thought about moving a force that large through the trails, Cole would never know. There was a fork in the trail, and one path took you to the mountain, the other took you to the canyon.
The small army of two thousand men and women had taken the wrong trail, got themselves stuck in the canyon, and now were trapped at the base of the mountain. They couldn’t get out without Cole’s help, and he wasn’t inclined to offer any.
“You came to my mountain with the thought of putting us under your control, didn’t you?” Cole said.
Tom Haggerty shook his head. “That’s not why we’re here. The Commander in Chief has ordered us to clear any zombies from the northern states that we find and leave the communities that have survived the Upheaval to themselves that want to be left alone. That is the extent of my orders, and that is what I aim to do.”
Cole looked at Luke Blacktail who was standing nearby. “Did your scouts ever come back?” he asked.
Luke shook his head. “I figure they are not coming back. I don’t have any idea what has happened to them.”
Cole turned to Haggerty. “Did you kill them?”
“No! We’ve seen no one, living or dead since we entered the mountains!” Haggerty protested. He was livid, more angry with himself than the situation. It was his decision to take the south trail to try and get off the mountain, and he led them right into that box canyon. The noise of the passing vehicles caused an avalanche which closed the trail behind them with thousands of tons of rocks and snow.
“Perhaps.” Cole was enjoying himself, like a bully always does when his prey is helpless. “Well, I ask you again. What do I do with you? If I give you shovels it will take you a year to dig out the mess you are in. If I bring you up, you’ll run us out or take us over.”
“No! We would not. We would take what we could, head south, and rejoin our army,” Haggerty protested.
“And bring them back here, I am sure,” Carson Hobbes said.
Cole looked at Blacktail. “Take him back to his people. They have enough supplies to last a while, and the river at the bottom will feed them if they know how to fish.”
Hobbes looked at Haggerty. “Maybe you’ll have luck when the snow melts. Probably around May these parts.”
“You can’t! There’s two thousand people down there!” Tom argued.
Cole waved a dismissive hand. “Your problem. You brought it with you.”
Tom knew when he was not going to win an argument with this man. He’d seen them before, and they were all the same. Community leaders who let the power of their position get the better of them. It always ended badly. He looked down and missed the look that passed between Hobbes and Blacktail
Haggerty allowed himself to be led back to the rope swing that had brought him up. He tried to think about what John and Charlie would do in a situation like this. John would probably have told the Cole son of a bitch to go fuck himself and promise him that he’d be back to make him wish he’d played his hand smarter. Charlie would have probably upended the table and beat them all with it.
He smiled to himself as he walked to the canyon edge. It was an amusing thought, but not practical. John always said put the most number of people first, and even if you’re wrong, you can’t be blamed.
They reached the edge, and Haggerty set himself in the swing. He stepped over the edge, with two men holding the rope.
Haggerty looked at Blacktail and shook his head. “I wish he had been more reasonable.”
Blacktail waited until Tom was suspended over the canyon edge.
“He was.” Luke slipped his knife out and with a slash, sent Tom hurtling to the canyon floor.
“No!” Haggerty watched the jagged rocks rush towards him, and his last thought was he hoped John would show up soon.
Luke Blacktail looked over the edge of the cliff and watched as the people below ran towards their fallen leader. Several faces looked up, and Luke stepped back as several bullets whistled past his head.
Probably should have disarmed them first, he thought. Oh well, we can negotiate for them later when they are hungry enough.
“Set a rope by the cliff, do not let anyone walk near it. No point in giving them a target to shoot at,” Luke said to his lieutenant.
Blacktail walked back to the main hall, ignoring the questioning looks coming from the people who lived in town. He went back to the conference room and sat down.
“Is it done?” Cole asked.
“It is. They won’t trust us ever again. Not until they have to,” Luke said.
“Good,” Cole said. “Now then. Listen to me. I want to talk about a few things, but I need to know if I can count on you for complete support.”
Luke bristled. “I think I just proved you could.”
“Easy. I just wanted to hear it from you,” Hobbes said. “We’ll let them stew for a while, and in a couple of days we’ll see if they want to talk.” Cole turned to his son. “Go talk to the builders. See what it would take to drop a section of the canyon wall. Just as a demonstration.”
Carson smiled and left the confer
ence on his errand. Cole turned back to Luke. “I think we may have an opportunity here,” Cole said.
“Really?” Luke asked. “What kind of opportunity?”
“This army has just worked their way across the northern states. The area is wide open and mostly free of zombies,” Cole said.
Luke thought about it. “So we can get off this mountain?”
“That’s the thought. There are huge tracks of land right to the east of us, free of zombies, and ripe for the taking,” Cole said. “I imagine every single person here could claim ten thousand acres without even running out of room.”
Luke thought about it. “And what about the rest of the army that this one belonged to?”
Cole smiled. “I doubt we’ll have any trouble from them. These mountains are a dangerous place.”
Far below the canyon wall, a group of men and women met within the confines of a small box truck.
“What can we do? Outside of shooting anyone who shows their face, we’re trapped.” The speaker was a small man named Harris.
“The army is trapped, yes. But we all are not.” This came from a woman named Alice Dorn who was named the leader after they buried Haggerty. She continued.
“Two of our fighters are experienced rock climbers. They will get through the avalanche that trapped us here and head south to find the Commander. Right now I figure he has to be somewhere around Kansas, maybe Nebraska. The good news is that he’s closer than he was a month ago, and that works for us. I don’t know what this asshole has planned for us in this canyon, but we will not just roll over.
“Stan, put your sharpshooters on notice. Rotate in teams, and keep a watch on the cliff. If anyone gets curious, kill them.” Alice was mad as hell at losing Tom. She was a forty-eight year old mother who lost two of her three children to the zombies. The fight she had with the zombies was vengeance, and this Hobbes person was in her way.
“Benny, inventory the supplies, and I mean all of them. Carolyn, you get your two climbers ready. I want them ready to go tonight. We will have a service for Tom, and while everyone is distracted on the one side of the canyon, those two are up and out. If we can get word to John, then I know he’ll get to us.”
White Flag Of The Dead (Book 8): The Zombie Wars (The Enemy Within) Page 11