Generation Dead - 07

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Generation Dead - 07 Page 5

by Joseph Talluto


  “Friends call me Jake. You can call me sir, if it suits you,” Jake said, holding his knife up and inspecting the blade.

  “Fuck that, you little prick. Put that knife away before I shove it up your ass and make you smile while I do it.” Casey started to move towards Jake, but Jake just put the blade out in front of himself, stopping Carson’s forward progress.

  “Have I told you what I do for a living?” Jake asked, locking eyes with Casey.

  “Fuck do I care? Step the fuck aside!” Clearly, Carson was limited in his vocabulary choices.

  “I’m a Collector, Casey,” Jake said, staring intently at his blade.

  Casey’s manner changed abruptly. When he first thought he was up against some fool who wanted to defend some poor girls honor due to some misguided feelings of chivalry, he figured to just brush the fool aside and be done with it. When that fool turned out to be someone who confronted zombie hordes on a regular basis and lived to tell the tale, then that was something else entirely.

  Casey still tried to bull his way through. “I’m done talking. Move or I’ll break your fucking…”

  Whatever Carson meant to say was lost as Jake struck suddenly, stepping up close to Casey and pressing the blade of his knife against the larger man’s throat. Jake then moved his face close to Casey and said something that scared the man to his roots.

  “I’ve killed zombies with this blade two days ago, Carson, and I don’t remember if I cleaned it properly.” Jake smiled slightly, almost apologetically.

  Carson Casey suddenly broke out in a sweat. Everyone over the age of fifteen knew the threat of zombies, and everyone else knew what to do to keep from getting infected and turning themselves. Jake’s dirty blade was a death sentence and Casey knew it. One cut and it was over. Nothing could save the big man from becoming a zombie except a crack in the skull.

  “D-Don’t do anything stupid, son, I was j-just funnin’ with the ladies,” Casey said shakily.

  “I’m sure you were. But they might have not liked your manner, so I’m sure you will apologize, correct?” Jake tended to get precise when he was in a bad mood, but Casey would never know how close to death he really was.

  Carson’s eyes narrowed but he managed to creak out a sincere-sounding apology. I might have felt sorry for the man if he hadn’t been such a prick earlier.

  “Excellent,” Jake said. “Now we can all be friends again.” He pulled the knife away from the big man’s throat and Carson fairly fell back in an attempt to get away from the poisoned blade. I looked at my tomahawk and then looked back at the men lounging nearby and they suddenly realized they had other places to be.

  Carson stalked away and Jake came over to where I was standing.

  “Think this might be trouble later?” he asked.

  I knew what he was saying, and I didn’t feel like getting into trouble, so I lied.

  “Should be alright. If we were staying it would be, but I don’t think so.” I knew Jake would finish the man off if he felt he had a reason, and I didn’t want to stay any longer.

  “Hope so.” Jake turned to the young woman who had never left Julia’s side. As he approached, I saw Julia sheath a knife at the small of her back. Carson Casey would have died one way or the other today.

  “Sorry for the trouble, ma’am.” Jake said to the young mother. “Hope that fool doesn’t bother you anymore.”

  The woman blushed. “He’s been a pain, but I can’t fight him with my babies nearby.”

  “If you need help, just have someone get in touch with us. We’ll take care of things,” Jake promised.

  “Thank you.” She turned to Julia. “Thank you.” After that, she went back to her little yard where her children were quietly playing with the ball again.

  We stood together in the street. I noticed a lot of people smiled at us, and several nodded in approval. I had the feeling Casey was not well liked, and I wondered if it might have been a kindness to the town to have run him out. The man lounging had disappeared, but I still had the feeling I was going to see him again.

  Jake tilted his head towards the docks, and when we had cleared the last of the shops, he showed us the three gold coins and two silver coins he had managed to get out of the Melter for his jewelry. Julia laughed and brought out the payment from Charlie, and we all looked at the new wealth we had managed to accumulate within a very short amount of time.

  “Dang,” Jake said, looking over the money. “Anything we need before we shove off and head for home? Anything? House, car, boat?”

  We all laughed, but the reality was we had enough money for a car or a boat. After the world came to an end, the new Congress decided to use precious metals for currency. They established the rate of exchange and made sure everyone followed by example. The money was copper, silver, and gold. All paper money was completely worthless. Our dads had insisted, saying this was one lesson from the past we were going to learn. Twenty copper coins equaled a silver coin, and twenty silvers equaled a gold coin. Once it was announced that we were going back to a gold standard, there was a rush to procure old jewelry, watches, and rings. After the initial rush died down, people let the marketplace dictate prices, and they were off.

  It worked out well, since there was no arguing that there was plenty to go around. Jewelry stores that had survived the zombies were suddenly very popular and most within the vicinity of any town were looted, and quickly.

  We pocketed our wealth and made our way back to our boat. We expected the trip to be very uneventful, but it wasn’t going to start out that way. Standing by our docked canoe was a large man flanked by two others. All three were armed with firearms, something unusual in the settled areas. There wasn’t any law against them, people just left them behind, most of the time.

  I expected serious trouble and was calculating how I could throw my hawk faster than any of the men could draw their weapons when the man in front spoke.

  “Are you three leaving Leport?” He wasn’t much for conversation, and I felt an immediate bond with the man.

  “Who wants to know?” Jake asked, looking the men over.

  “Name’s Lane Tucker. I’m the law.” The answer was short and to the point. I liked that, and my instincts were telling me good things about this guy.

  “Have we done something wrong?” Jake asked, more polite this time. Dad had always brought us up to respect the law. You didn’t have to respect the man representing it, but you had to respect the law itself.

  “No, I just wanted to thank you for dealing with that bully Casey. He’s always pushing the boundaries, but never fully crosses them.” Lane looked over our shoulders at the town. “Yet,” he added.

  “Tucker, we don’t want trouble, but twice today we’ve had run ins when before we would have to go looking for trouble ourselves. What’s going on around here?” I asked.

  Lane threw me a look that was part approval, and part admiration. “You’ve hit on something. There’s something going on, and we can’t quite get a handle on it. People have gone missing, a new element is in town, and most it is all bad. I feel like half the time I’m chasing ghosts.” He looked out over the river. “Sometimes I wish the zombies would come back. At least then people would have an enemy with a face, not just something hidden under the surface.”

  Jake surprised me with his next statement. “Tough luck, Tucker. But if you need any help, give us a call. We’ll back you if you need it.”

  I was stunned. Jake was usually more than ready to let people solve their own problems. But here he was, volunteering us for something that really wasn’t any of our business.

  Lane Tucker held out his hand. “I may do that, son. I just may do that.” He motioned to his men and the three started back towards the town.

  “Tucker!” Jake called.

  Lane turned back. “What is it?”

  “Should I have killed Casey?”

  Lane thought about it for a moment. “Yes,” he said as he walked away.

  Jake nodded and we got b
ack into our canoe, pushing off and heading down the canal towards home.

  Chapter 13

  We were quiet for a long time, passing under the bridges that led to the other side of the river.

  Finally Jake spoke. “If I don’t see the capital again for a while, I won’t be too sorry.”

  “I would agree with that,” I said, angling the canoe to hit the swifter currents of the shallows.

  Julia spent the next few minutes relating to Jake what had transpired after the delivery of the goods. Jake listened quietly, and looked back once to nod after hearing my part in it.

  “Place needs some changing. Don’t know what, though, outside of a good fire.” Jake paddled a bit more, speeding us towards the spillway and the generating station.

  “Yup.” I matched his strokes and together we moved towards home. We wouldn’t get there until morning, home being over sixty five miles by water away, but we’d make good time and spend the night at one of our stopping places. It didn’t matter too much where we were, no one was waiting for us at home anyway.

  We paddled and drifted until the sun began its descent, and we found ourselves at Goose Lake Prairie Preserve. I moved us across Heidecke Lake and headed for the docks.

  “Good call, Aaron,” Jake called out. “My arms were getting tired.”

  “Me, too,” Julia said.

  “What?” I yelped. “You haven’t done anything but keep our packs warm and stick your fingers in the water!” I directed this at Julia.

  “Someone had to do it. It’s a tough job.” Julia tried to say this with a straight face, but failed miserably.

  I slapped the water with my paddle and managed to slice a bit of water over the side of the canoe. My aim was of and I hit Jake in the head.

  “Hey!” Jake yelled while Julia giggled.

  “Sorry!” I called, trying to correct the boat as it started to swing in the current. The docks were actually behind a couple of breakers, and getting into the harbor without a motor was tricky.

  Jake growled and slapped the water with his own paddle, sending a decent wave up and behind him.

  It would have been very effective had Julia not been in the way. As it was, she took the brunt of the wave in her face, leaving her sputtering and cursing. I laughed, and she would have gone for water to hit me with if I hadn’t threatened to tip the damn canoe over and drown the both of them.

  We slipped into the harbor laughing, and it was good to get the tension out of ourselves. Leport had left a bad taste in our mouths, and we needed to release it somehow.

  Docking the canoe, we tied it off and walked over to the grassy area which used to be a picnic area, by the looks of things. The grass was about knee high, but we could still see the old tables, and the pavilion was still standing, although the roof was starting to slew to one side.

  I walked around in a small area, checking for rocks, before I put up my little one-man tent. Jake and Julia did the same, and as the sun started to set, we talked about the trip and about what we were going to do next.

  “Ever think about doing something else?” Jake asked.

  “Like what?” I replied. “We weren’t raised for much else.”

  “Maybe,” Jake said. “Maybe we were raised for something else, we just haven’t figured out what it is.”

  I looked at Jake as if he was nuts. “We were brought up to be able to do one thing: survive. We trained to fight both zombies and men, and all of our skills have brought us one source of income: going where no one else wants to go.” I stood up and looked out over the river. “Face it, Jake, it’s all we were supposed to do.”

  “Not good enough, little brother. I keep thinking there’s a purpose behind this, behind everything that’s happened. I can’t explain it, but I’m trying to figure out what it is.” Jake seemed as if he was about to say something else, but he stopped himself.

  “What does your gut say, Jake?” Julia asked, interrupting the silence.

  Jake looked at her. “It says we were meant to do more than just be garbage collectors.” Over our protests, he said loudly, “Let’s be real. We go and risk our necks for crap that other people haven’t got the guts to go get. When does it end? When do we reach the point where everything anyone has ever wanted is going to be collected?” Jake looked out over the water to the West. “I just have been feeling lately that there’s something more we’re supposed to be doing.”

  “Well, big brother, when you figure it out, you let me know. For now, we’re collectors,” I said, stretching out and watching the stars slowly blink into existence in the purpling sky.

  “Something to think about, Aaron,” Jake said.

  “Now what?”

  “Why are we saving our money? What’s the point?”

  “What do you mean?” I had to admit I hadn’t been expecting this line from Jake.

  “We’ve got a lot of money from our collecting. Why? We don’t need food or shelter. We’re able to go into the grey zones and get whatever we need. Why the money? What’s our end game with it?” Jake sounded like he had been giving this a lot more than just a cursory thought or two.

  “Go to sleep.”

  “Just wondering, little brother.”

  I closed my eyes, but Jake’s words had struck a chord. What were we getting paid for?

  Chapter 14

  We packed up early in the morning and got underway while the river and the surrounding countryside were still asleep. The sun hadn’t come up yet, but the grey dawn was turning blue and the sun was very close behind.

  We passed Ottawa and Morris, and there was a bit of urgency in our strokes as we got closer to home. Julia was more anxious than normal, and we would be happy to walk familiar paths once again.

  Around mid-morning, we pulled into the dock. Our big motorboats looked at us in askance, wondering when we would take them out for a stretch. Across the river, at Eagle Island, the livestock wandered to the river’s edge for their morning drink. I looked up towards Eagle Point, but as usual, no one was there. It would have been nice to see a couple of tall figures standing there, but as I had come to expect, that probably wasn’t going to happen.

  After tying up our canoe, we walked in silence up the hill and across the lawn. It hadn’t been cut in several days, and was starting to get a little fuzzy. I could see Jake scowling at it and I knew he would be out cutting it as soon as he could. I never figured out why Jake did that, it was something he picked up a couple of years ago. I guess it kept him busy.

  We passed the guesthouse, which once upon a time was the Visitor Center to the park we lived in. I don’t know why we had a guest house, since we lived in a lodge that had hundreds of rooms, but we needed it for something.

  Climbing up the stairs, we went from forest floor to forest canopy. The landscape spread out before us, and as always, I was struck by the beauty and solitude of the place we called home. The river, the forest, the rock formations, the canyons, and the trails, all made this a fantastic place to live. The only thing missing was differentiated company, but we got enough of that on our travels to the various towns and cities.

  Once inside, we dropped our gear in the storeroom and went our separate ways. The first thing on my list was a shower, and I didn’t doubt it was first on the list for Julia and Jake. I went up to my suite of rooms, noting the still closed door across the hall. One of these days, Jake and I will open it, but it still hurt a lot.

  An hour later, I was in the main lounge area by the fireplace, burning off any excess zombie glop from my weapons and sharpening their already razor-sharp edges. My sword took the longest, mostly because it was over thirty inches of cutting edge.

  Julia came in, rubbing her hair with a towel and wearing clean clothes.

  “You busy?” She asked.

  “Not really,” I said, running an oily rag over my blade and sheathing it. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, I was just going to go visit mom, and wanted to know if you wanted to come with.

  I thought for a
second. “Yeah, maybe that might be what I need.”

  “Come on.” Julia took my hand and together we headed out of the lodge and down the stairwell. We crossed the main area, and I smiled when I saw Jake working the lawn mower, clearing out the tall grass, and keeping the place looking like it always had, even back in the day when the place was a spot for tourists. Never could figure out why he did that, and he wasn’t telling.

  We climbed the main steps of the chimney rock formation that rose out of the riverside and stood like a sentinel over the Illinois River. At the top, we looked out for a moment at the big bend in the river, easily being able to discern the town of Ottawa. Over to the west and north, Utica could be seen, although there wasn’t much left. The years had not been kind, and two out of every three buildings were caved in and covered in brush. In the river was a small dam, and through it, a small generating station provided us with power.

  Julia tugged at my hand.

  “Come on. We didn’t come up here to see the sights.”

  I allowed myself to be led, and each step brought back a lot of memories and a lot of feelings. We followed a small trail to the center of the pillar, crossing ancient stones put there by the French Army a long time ago. There had been a fort once on top of this rock, and a hotel, if the information from the Visitor Center was to be believed. But the top of this rock served another purpose, now.

  We stepped into the small clearing and approached the two graves that had been dug there. Simple wooden crosses marked the gravesites, and Julia approached the one on the right. The marker simply said Rebecca. I went and stood by the marker on the left. This one simply said, Sarah.

  The graves were about fifteen feet apart, and allowed for Julia and me to have some private time with our respective mothers.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said, sitting down on the warm grass. “I’m back.”

  We spent the better part of an hour, just sitting quietly and talking softly to our mothers. Julia occasionally ran her hands through the grass on the grave, sometimes holding the grass, as if she was holding her mother’s hand again.

 

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