Dead To Rights_HZA, Vol. 4

by Marty Brockschmidt

  He had no intention of dumping these kids on Red's group, he was responsible for them, but he wouldn't turn away any help that was offered, either. Then there was Red herself, he had barely known her half a day, yet instantly felt a connection to her. Before the outbreak, Turk made ends meet as a hunting and fishing guide, but other than that, had as little to do with people as possible. The outbreak had been in full swing for nearly a month, before Turk caught evidence of it. When he finally did, most of those that survived, bothered him more than the dead. Turk would watch people killing each other over a can of beans, when up in the hills was a bounty for the taking.

  When Turk spotted Red's group, they struck him as different than most. However, it was the woman with the red hair that drew him in. To be honest, Turk was attracted to Red, just on her looks, but he had grown up a might and it took a bit more than that, to turn his head. She struck him instantly as not only a caring woman, but also possessed an inner strength and self assurance. All qualities that he admired.

  After leaving Cain's vehicles, he kept the group traveling east, leaving a false trail. Then slowly made their way back, first heading southwest and then finally, more northerly. On the way, he made an effort to salvage anything he thought would be of value to the group, as well as hunting and foraging, for as much as he could. He didn't think he would be turned away, but it never hurt to sweeten the pot.

  Rebecca Becker was a plain and unassuming woman. She never had a boyfriend, never went to prom and with the exception of a dare at a tenth grade party, had never been kissed. Rebecca could care less about any of that and upon graduation, threw herself into work. Once she got her real estate license, Rebecca never looked back and shortly racked up an impressive record of sales.

  It wasn't until the real estate bubble burst, that she began to think about something more than work. With her characteristic zeal, she threw herself into acquiring a family. First she adopted Arianna, a ten month old from India and two years later Mitchell, an eighteen month old from Russia.

  The two children, were about as different as two people could be. Arianna never fussed, even if she hurt herself, she never cried out. She had learned at the orphanage, the caregivers did not respond to fussy babies. She always acted, way more mature than her age, Rebecca always said, she had an old soul. Mitchell on the other hand, was less self able and seemed to crave company, he also had an odd habit of hoarding food in his bed. Arianna enjoyed helping her mother with her work and by the time she was nine, she was running her mother's email marketing.

  When the outbreak hit, Rebecca knew it was time to cut and run. She made arrangements to meet up with her parents, at her father's hunting cabin in northern Georgia, loading up as much supplies as she could. They left behind their home in a suburb of Atlanta, not really sure if they would ever be back. Rebecca's parents never showed at the cabin and cell phone service, along with the TV and radio no longer worked, after the first few days. Rebecca tried to keep a brave face for her children, but became increasingly concerned for the welfare of the three of them.

  Once finding that Mitchell had hidden food in his bed, she threw a rare fit and chastised the boy, until he cried and promised to never do it again. To stretch their supplies, she took her father's blackhawk and went out to pick berries. She asked Arianna to stay in and watch Mitch. Rebecca thought she was being watchful, but the zed was so quiet, she never knew it was near, until it grabbed her arm and took a large bite. She drew, cocked and fired the blackhawk in one motion, dropping the zed, but the damage was done.

  Hearing the news in the early days, they had learned that a bite led to death and then the dead rise up, as flesh eating monsters. The only cure, was to destroy the brain. Rebecca bandaged her arm, picked up the berries she had gathered and went in to prepare her children.

  “Arianna honey, you know what is going to happen to me. Your strong, I know you can survive this world. Promise me two things, don't let me become one of those things and take care of your brother.”

  “I promise mom.”

  Arianna put her brother to bed that evening and sat with her mother, throughout the night. Rebecca passed just before dawn and using her grandfather's hunting knife, Arianna made sure her mother would not turn. She had Mitch keep watch as she dug a grave for her mother, wrapped her in a sheet and laid Rebecca to rest.

  She and Mitch were alone in the cabin for another month, before Pete and Sheila happened by. Arianna barely slept these days, but was asleep when Pete and Sheila entered the cabin and began looking for supplies. Arianna woke to the sound of voices and picked up her shotgun and quietly exited the bedroom, she shared with Mitch.

  Sheila heard the unmistakable sound of a shell, being chambered. “We mean no disrespect, we didn't think anyone was here.”

  “This is ours, if you know what is good for you, you will put that stuff down and leave.” Arianna stated, leveling the shotgun at Sheila.

  “Ari relax, you know mom wouldn't have us treating guests, like this.” Mitch said.

  “Sweety, can we speak to your mother?” Sheila questioned.

  “Mommy got bit, it’s just me an Ari now.”

  It took some convincing from both Mitch and Sheila, but eventually, Arianna agreed she and Mitch, would leave with them . That was almost a year ago, but the situation with Pete and Sheila, constantly chafed at Arianna. She did not like being treated, as just one of the kids. Now Jimmy was asking his parents for more responsibility and was being put in charge of managing, the other kids. It's not that Jimmy was particularly bossy, or anything, its just that if Sue would just listen to her, Arianna was sure that she and all of the kids, could be so much more helpful, than they were allowed.

  Dog was aware of the vehicle pulling up at the service entrance, before anyone else. Pete and Tracey were on perimeter patrol, when the dog raced by, on its way to the gate. When Pete and Tracey caught up to Dog, they saw the old station wagon, with a trailer in tow. The zeds normally at the fence, had begun to swarm the vehicle. A middle aged man exited the vehicle, with a club in hand. The man was followed by a young man and woman, each of which retrieved a quarter staff from the trailer.

  The trio barely spoke, but went to work downing the zeds. The young man and woman worked as a team. The woman mostly used her staff to trip up the zeds, while the young man speared them in the skull. Occasionally, when she saw an opening, the young woman would unerringly direct the point of her staff into an eye, or under the jaw. The other man, mostly used his club like a bat, swinging at the zeds like a major leaguer, going for the bleachers.

  “Tom, you need to come see this.” Pete radioed to the others.

  “What’s up, is there a problem?”

  “I don't think so, but we have company.”

  As the rest of the group stopped their work and made their way to the rental cabin entrance, the trio had finished dispatching the nearby zeds. A few more zeds, were still making their way towards the vehicle. The man retrieved a longbow and quiver, from the back of the car. He quickly strung the bow and clipped the quiver at his hip. He knocked an arrow, drew the bow and let the arrow fly. The nearest zed fell, as the arrow pierced its skull. The man continued firing arrows at the approaching zeds, consistently making thirty to forty yard headshots. Once he assured himself that no more zeds were approaching, the man asked a boy to exit the vehicle and handed him a rag.

  “Go git my arrows, boy.”

  Then the man handed a rifle to the younger man. “Keep an eye on him, while I chat with these folks.”

  The man got a towel and jug of water and cleaned the spattered gore from his hands, face and hair. He asked a girl to get out of the vehicle. She gripped his hand tightly, as they made their way past the downed zeds and went to address the group, watching the scene unfold from the other side of the gate.

  Turk looked at the group, staring at him through the gates. Pete and Tracey, had pistols holstered at their waist and Red had her gun belt on, which held her pistol and knife, Sam had his hamm
er, hanging near his hand. Tim took a defensive position in front of Red and was holding an M16. It didn't escape Turk, that Tim's body language suggested he was laying claim to Red.

  “Afternoon.” Turk greeted.

  “I see you found Will's people.” Tom replied.

  “There was a bit of a tussle, but they are safe and sound now.”

  The boy had finished retrieving Turk's arrows, came over and dropped them in Turk's quiver.

  “Well done Prescott.” Turk told the boy.

  Tom couldn't help but notice that the boy was probably a little older than Jimmy, yet had a brace of flintlock pistols and a tomahawk, strapped to his waist.

  “You've come to stay then?” Tom asked.

  “We have, if the offer still stands?”

  Before Tom could answer, Tim spoke up, “We have some questions for those looking to join us, if you don't mind?”

  “Fire away friend, I'll do my best.”

  “Have you ever killed a zed?” Tim asked, instantly feeling foolish.

  Turk was pleased to see that Red rolled her eyes at Tim's posturing. He spread his hands and looked from side to side, at the carnage they had just dealt. “I've had occasion to take down a zed, now and again.”

  Looking Turk in the eye, Tim asked. “Have you ever killed the living?”

  “Never before a few days ago.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they were a fanatical group of cult zealots, that were taking these children back to be brainwashed, into serving their corrupt purpose.”

  “What do you want from our group?”

  “As I told you all before, we are looking for a community, that still has a belief in humanity.”

  “What do you have to offer our group?”

  Turk was struggling to remain good natured, with this line of questioning, “I would of thought that would be fairly obvious, but if you want me to list my credentials, I'd be happy to. Not to brag, but I am certain I am a better hunter than the lot of you. I know how to live off the land and have a fair knowledge of natural cures.”

  Turk looked Red, straight in the eyes. “I'm a straight shooter and will never lie to you, or disrespect you.” Turning towards Tom. “I'm more than a passable mechanic, I know blacksmithing and metalworking. I also have a trailer full of guns, ammunition, powder, reload equipment and food. Now then Tom, do we pass muster?”

  “Tim, you've made your point, open the gate and let them in.” Tom instructed.

  As the gate opened, the four teenagers walked in and Turk drove in his willys. When Turk got out, he saw Margo on her knees, hugging and petting a dog. “You never told me they had a dog, what’s his name?”

  “I didn't know they had a dog, Li'l Miss. You'll have to ask them.”

  Pete was standing closest to Margo. “We've just been calling him Dog, I guess we should make some introductions all around, I'm Pete.”

  Each in turn, gave out their names, Jimmy and Jackson wanting to see Prescott's pistols.

  “Maybe later boys. Prescott, put your pistols in the willys for now.” Turk directed.

  “Can't I just let them see em first?”

  “It wasn't a suggestion boy, put em away if you want to keep em.”

  Turk went over to the trailer and removed the tarp, revealing the contents. Tom and Tim sucked in their breath at the site of the large cache of weapons.

  “Most of that, we got off the crew that had taken these younguns, but the rest, we picked up here and there.”

  Tim picked up, one of the black powder guns. “Why bother dragging these along, I mean, there fine as a toy for the kid here, but get real, you got one shot and a range of what, thirty yards?”

  Turk retrieved the gun, from Tim. “Might be you have a point.”

  Turk handed the long rifle to Prescott and pointed to a weather vane, on top of one of the buildings. “How far, do you think that is?”

  “A hundred yards?” Replied Prescott.

  “I spect a might further, make her spin boy.”

  Prescott took a shooting stick from the trailer and stepped away from the group, sized up his target, tested the wind and took aim.

  Turk sidled over to Red. “He's showin off.” Turk said, with more than a bit of pride.

  Prescott pulled back the hammer, pulled the set trigger and squeezed. When the smoke cleared, the weather vane was spinning, against the breeze. Turk patted Prescott on the shoulder, took the rifle from his hands and handed it to Will. “Load er again, if you would be so kind.”

  Turk rummaged a minute in the trailer, he had picked up some books and games and eventually retrieved a playing card, from the collection. He handed the card to Prescott and pointed to a post, about ten yards away. Prescott ran over to the post and using his Tomahawk, made a notch to fit the card. By the time Prescott returned, Will had finished reloading the rifle and it was Turk's turn to step from the group, he touched off the round and as the smoke cleared, the top half of the card was drifting towards the ground.

  “Any hunter worth his salt, don't need more than one shot. I can cast bullets from a bit of lead. Aimin and shootin ain't much different than modern firearms, but we don't have to worry about wastin ammo for them that needs some practice.”

  “You made your point, but I'll stick to my aught six or this M16 they load quicker, if swarmed by zeds.” Tim grumbled, not enjoying being made the fool.

  “Well there's a reload rig in the trailer and we got the dies to make your aught six loads. You'll be ready for business, if we do get swarmed.” Turk exclaimed, as he smiled and extended his hand.

  Tim shook his hand more out of reflex, but had to admit to himself that Turk made valid points.

  “We took a bear this morning, its quartered up in the coolers. If Miss Red can help me with some stitches that need pullin, Margo and I, will make you folks some stew for dinner.”

  Red led Turk to the first aid station, while the rest busied themselves, unloading the trailer. Once they entered the building Turk exclaimed, “It wasn't my intention to butt heads with Tim, but he seems to have a bone to pick with me.”

  “Tim and I have become good friends the past couple of weeks, he's afraid your going to interfere with that. It takes awhile to fit into the group, but they are all good people, give them some time.”

  “Yup I kinda figured it would take some time to learn the lay of the land, I was hopin that trailer full of goods would help.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt they’re all feeling Christmas has come early. Now these stitches aren't any place weird, are they?”

  “ In my shoulder.” Turk replied, as he slipped off his shirt.

  Red looked at the long scar on Turks chest. “A bit of a tussle?”

  “You should of seen the other guy. Have you ever pulled stitches before?”

  Red shook her head.

  “Just clip em and pull, hopefully, they haven't grown in much yet.”

  Red got some gloves, alcohol wipes, tweezers and scissors, while Turk settled himself on the table. To take his mind off the discomfort of the stitches being pulled, Turk began talking, “You know, I lied a bit out there.”

  “How's that?”

  “I said I was looking for a community, which I am, but I also haven't been able to get you off my mind, since I left.”

  Red smiled shyly, pulling the last stitch, before coyly saying, “Well, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about you, once or twice.”

  Turk raised his hand and cupped Red’s cheek. “I'm a bit out of practice at this and my new found family complicates things. What do you say, we get to know each other and see what happens?”

  Red covered his hand with hers. “Okay.”

  Red led Turk back to the Administration building they had converted for their living space and found Pete and Tracey there. Pete was putting away the goods, brought in from the trailer. “Turk, thank you for all you brought to us. Margo is waiting in our kitchen area with Dog, would you mind if I sit in with you two? I do a lot of our c
ooking, but I have a lot to learn, when it comes to game meat.”

  “It would be a pleasure, but I might put you to work.” Replied Turk.

  “Red, Tim wanted you and I to handle the watch for now. Mister Turk, your other three went with Tom and the others, to work on the barricades.” Stated Tracey.

  “Thanks Miss, no need to Mister me, Turk will do just fine.”

  Margo had identified all the food stuff, they had brought with them and it was waiting in the kitchen area. When Pete and Turk entered, Margo got up from where she was sitting with Dog and hugged Turk. “I like it here a whole lot, are we going to stay?”