All Roads Lead To Terror: Coming of age in a post apocalyptic world (Dreadland Chronicles Book 1)

by Richard Schiver

  He noticed that they both had stopped rocking back and forth, their backs becoming ramrod straight, yet their hands remained in place on the top rail of the corral. As he got closer one of the women turned with a growl deep in her throat. The flesh of her face was gray, her eyes white with cataracts, filthy teeth half hidden behind snarling lips.

  They had been turned, Meat realized as he faded back from the corral, the other woman followed the first, staggering towards Meat, their hands outstretched as they sought the comfort his body would provide.

  “Stop it, both of you.” A shout came from the porch of the dilapidated structure and Meat spotted a large man standing in the open doorway, a rifle resting in the crook of his elbow. The women turned back towards the sound of the man’s voice, staggering to the fence of the corral where they watched him with rapt attention. He stepped out of the shadows, a long salt and pepper beard resting against his chest.

  “I see you out there,” the man said, “hiding in the bushes. Come out with your hands up.” He settled the butt of the rifle against his shoulder and took aim through the telescopic sight.

  Meat stood up, his hands held comfortably at shoulder height, with his fingers spread wide. It would serve as a signal for Billie Bob to hold fire. Meat was confident he was even now sighting through the scope of his M24, a present from his surrogate parents, the man on the porch squarely in his sights. As long as Meat’s hands remained open, the man on the porch would live. The moment he closed either hand into a fist, Billie Bob would take his shot.

  It was a signal they had worked before they started venturing beyond the fence at Bremo Bluff. In this old new world it was not only Zombies one needed to worry about. Other survivors, struggling to live themselves, were a greater risk, as the only law one had to fall back upon was whatever weapons they carried.

  “Drop your gun,” the man on the porch said, the muzzle of his rifle unwavering as Meat gazed down its length.

  “I can’t do that,” Meat said.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m looking for someone, a group of kids.”

  “A group of kids?” The muzzle wavered unsteadily.

  “They kidnapped several children from the compound where I live, we want them back.”

  “What place are you talking about? Where do you live?”

  “I can’t tell you that.” Meat was about to close his hand into a fist, worried that the large man on the porch was getting tired and might accidentally squeeze off a shot. The man lowered his rifle and sat down heavily on the top step.

  “I tried to stop them,” the man said.

  “Who?” Meat said as he approached the man.

  “Those kids you’re looking for, they’re not children, oh they’re small all right, and they look just like kids, but they’re not. They’re savages. That’s what threw Maggie off. One of them came out of the forest several days ago, he was pretending like he was hurt, Maggie went to help him, and the others, they just came out of the forest. She tried to run.” Several tears traced wet paths down his cheeks as he relived that moment in his mind. “She ran, but they were too fast. Shelly tried to help her but there were too many of them.”

  “Who are Maggie and Shelly?”

  The man looked at him, the sorrow of the world resting upon his slumped shoulders. “They were my wife and daughter,” he said as his gaze drifted to the two women in the corral, “I knew I needed to take care of them, do the right thing, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, not to the woman I spent my life with, or the child I swore to protect.”

  It all made sense now and Meat signaled for the others to come up. As they emerged from the forest the old man spotted them and suddenly became alarmed. “What do you want?”

  “We’re not here to hurt you, I promise, we smelled the wood smoke and came to see what was going on.”

  He reached for his rifle and Meat put his hand on the barrel.

  “I don’t have anything you want.”

  “We’re not after anything old man, we just want to find those kids, get our own kids back. Which way did they go?” He asked, trying to get the man’s mind off of his current line of thought.

  “East,” the old man said as he warily watched the other three approach.

  “We can help you,” Meat said, “if you need us to.”

  “How? You’re nothing more than a child yourself?”

  Meat shrugged, some people still held onto their old beliefs, unwilling to accept the reality in which they lived. Judging by the man’s age he had lived before the awakening so he still clung to the old viewpoint that children should not concern themselves with adult matters. “Your wife and daughter, they should have peace.”

  The man’s eyes widened in shock as he leaned back in an attempt to escape Meat’s observation. “What do you know about anything? You’re just a damned kid.”

  “I know they need to be put to rest. Everyone of us learned at a very young age that the only cure for what they have is a bullet to the brain.”

  “That’s my wife and daughter you’re speaking about boy.” His hand strayed to his rifle and Meat rested his foot on the barrel, keeping it in place as the old man looked up at him with water-rimmed eyes.

  “Window, you know what needs to be done,” Meat said, never taking his eyes off of the old man, “you should have done this sooner,” he said to the old man. “It’s not your wife and daughter anymore, you know that, why else would you be keeping them locked up in the corral?”

  “Shut up, dammit.”

  “Does she sleep with you at night? Do you tuck in your daughter with a kiss?”

  “Shut the fuck up, you bastard. What do you know about anything?”

  “I know I can’t leave them as they are. I know that somewhere deep down they’re begging to be released.”

  The old man jumped when a shot shattered the stillness of the day. Several birds took to flight, startled from their roost, flapping away with angry cries as a second shot quickly followed the first. The sound of the shots faded into the distance like thunder. From the North Meat detected the faint sound of an engine growling in the distance, its tone rising and then falling before fading away to silence.

  What was that? He wondered briefly before the man shoved him aside and raced down the steps, his boots throwing up little clouds of dust from the bare ground.

  “Maggie, Shelly,” the old man said, his voice cracking with emotion. Einstein stood in his way but Meat motioned for him to let the old man go. Sitting down on the top step he waited as the old man’s cries came from the direction of the corral. The others came and joined him.

  “Are we gonna bury them?” Window said.

  “When he’s ready,” Meat answered as the afternoon slowly marched towards evening. If need be they’d spend the night here before continuing their journey. He knew Window was anxious to get going, not being one who liked to wait on anyone or anything, but Meat understood that it would be best to help the old man once he came to the realization that what they’d done was the best for his wife and daughter.

  After waiting an hour they heard the unmistakable sound of a shovel biting into the earth. Led by Meat they crossed the small yard to help the old man lay his family to rest.

  Three

  In a world without electricity night descended rather quickly. After burying the old man’s wife and daughter they returned to the front porch and made preparations to move on a bit before setting up camp. The old man, who had exhausted most of his sorrow before they arrived, would hear none of this, and after introducing himself properly he insisted that they stay for the night.

  His name was Gregory and before the awakening he’d been the manager of a home improvement store just outside of Richmond. When the shit hit the fan he had taken his wife and young daughter to his cabin in the mountains West of Richmond to ride everything out. Unfortunately the Zombies turned out to be the least of his troubles. They’d been found and driven from their home by a group of men and women who were
better armed, and far more savage than he.

  Sitting around the kitchen table, with several candles providing their light, Gregory finished his story and looked at each of them expectedly, his hands folded on the table before him.

  “You lived in the world before all this happened?” Einstein said.

  “We were in our thirties when it happened, our daughter was five.”

  “So you know about fast food and grocery stores, what were they like? Could you really get a whole meal in less than a minute?” Billie Bob said.

  Gregory shrugged, “absolutely, in the city there was a fast food joint on practically every corner.”

  “That’s amazing, man I wish I could have seen that,” Billie-Bob said.

  “Where are you four from?”

  Window and Meat exchanged glances, Window tilted his head slightly and Meat agreed. “We’re from a place upriver called Bremo Bluff.”

  “I’ve heard of it,” Gregory said, “isn’t there a co-generation plant there?”

  “What’s a co-generation plant?” Window said.

  “A place that makes electricity.”

  “Yeah, we have electricity, we use it to make fresh water too,” Billie Bob said and Window scowled as Meat shrugged. They’d learned long ago to be cautious about what information they shared with strangers.

  “What about libraries?” Meat said.

  “What about them?”

  “Do you know where one might be, one that hasn’t been torched or destroyed?”

  Gregory shook his head, “I’m sorry, libraries weren’t exactly at the top of my list of priorities when I was trying to protect my family. How do you know about libraries?”

  “An old lady where I live, she has a room filled with books, but they’re story books, not real books you can learn anything from. She does have a set of encyclopedias but they’re from the fifties. She told me about libraries.”

  “You can read?”

  “Of course, to live where we live it’s required, everyone has a job to do to ensure the survival of the group, and you have to be able to read to follow instructions.”

  “Don’t they have any other books?”

  “Only technical manuals for running the plant, how to books about making things, those sort of books. I’d like to read about our history, what the world was like before all this happened,” Meat said with a shrug.

  “Do the children work?”

  “Everyone has to work.”

  “Then why are you outside?”

  “The parents of the children who had been kidnapped hired us to find them. They agreed to take on our jobs until we return.”

  “And if you don’t.”

  Meat smiled at this, “we’ve been going outside the fence for over two years now, staying close, but scavenging what we could find. We know the risks we’re taking, but I know the other three with me, I know what we’re capable of, and I’m pretty confident we will return to Bremo Bluff with the children.”

  “What about the kids who took them, what do you plan to do to them?”

  “Nothing if they stay out of our way.”

  “Why are you doing this? Are they paying you?”

  Meat shook his head, “we’re doing it because we want to help, and if we’re successful we may be able to convince the council to award us a scavenging slot.”

  “A scavenging slot?”

  “There are scavenging teams that search for necessities beyond the fence, each one is assigned a particular item to look for and bring back.”

  “So you’re doing this more for yourself?”

  “Not really, I mean getting a slot would be nice, but even if it wasn’t available, we’d probably still be doing it.

  “That’s pretty ultraistic of you.”

  “What does that mean?” Window said.

  “It means we’re generous,” Meat said.

  Window shrugged, “speak for yourself, I’m in it to find bullets and guns, you can never have too many guns.”

  “Don’t mind Window, he hates Zombies and practically everybody else.”

  “Why do they call him Window?”

  “It’s a name we came up with for him, since he’s so open about his past, he’s as clear as a window.”

  “I take it you’re being sarcastic.”

  “Absolutely.” Meat smiled. “By the way, my name’s Meat, that’s Einstein on Window’s left and at the end of the table is Billie Bob.” Each of them in turn nodded their head as Meat pointed at them.

  “Whatever happened to regular names, you know like Don and Mark, and Fred and Pete?” Gregory said with a bewildered expression,

  “According to my Dad I was born during the awakening, my mom said I was nothing more than meat so that’s what they started calling me. I don’t think I was ever given a real name. Besides it fits, aren’t we all just walking bags of meat?”

  “That’s a pretty dismal view of the world.”

  “It’s a pretty dismal world in which we live.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” Gregory said, “I can understand Einstein, he’s the smartest, right?”

  Meat nodded in agreement.

  “But why Billie Bob?”

  Meat smiled, “he’s one half of a set of twins, his name is Billie, and his brother’s name is Bobbie. When they were younger they would trade places with each other so everyone started calling them Billie Bob as they were never sure which of the twins they were really talking to.”

  “How did it happen?” Billie Bob said.

  “How did what happen?”

  “The awakening? They told us in class it was because of a virus, that a company was trying to make a biological weapon that mutated into the virus. But they never really gave us any more details.”

  “I don’t think anyone is really sure what happened. I know it started in a small town outside Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, some said a train had derailed and one of the tankers carrying government cargo was ruptured. Others claimed a military transport plane had crashed into the woods outside the town. There were some who believed it was tied to Ebola that had been out of control in South Africa.

  “Most of the people fled from the area, carrying the virus that quickly spread around the world. The next thing we knew anyone who had recently died woke up. Hospital morgues, funeral homes, places where those who had recently died were stored, saw the dead attacking the living.

  “Panic set in as people fled from the cities. The normal restraints of civilization crumbled and it became a dog eat dog world. The undead were only half the problem, survivalists and militia groups who had been waiting for something like this to happen went on killing sprees. It was crazy, if you weren’t dead, or didn’t belong to one of the groups that sprung up in the aftermath, you were a target.”

  “Just like now,” Meat said, “most of our problems come from survivors instead of the walking dead.”

  “Man’s inhumanity to man, throughout history man has been his own worst enemy.”

  “It’s getting late, if we want to get started by first light we need to get some sleep.”

  “There’s plenty of floor space,” Gregory said, “just grab a spot.”

  “Do you have any objections to us sleeping in your barn?” Meat said.

  “No, but I don’t understand why.”

  “Call it a precaution, I’ll take the first watch, Einstein you’ll be second, Billie Bob third, and Window you can wake me for the last two hours.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I know you can, I’ll sit with you, keep you company.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  Meat nodded as he pushed himself away from the table. He stuck his hand out for Gregory, “it’s been a pleasure, and thank you for your hospitality.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, when do you plan to set out in the morning?”

  “Early, I’d like to be gone before the sun comes up.”

  The others pushed away from the table and crossed to the front
door where they waited for Meat who led them to the barn.

  Four

  A soft breeze was blowing in from the East carrying with it the stench of burning rubber, and the faint cries of someone in distress, the sound fading in and out of focus as the direction of the wind shifted. Window sat with his back against the wall of the barn, hidden in the deep shadows cast by the light of the full moon that rode across the starry sky. Without light pollution to cloud the sky it looked like a million stars sparkling against the velvety blackness of the night, the cloudy band of the Milky Way cutting a wide swath across the sky.

  He hated being alone, and with few exceptions, had found most of the survivors he knew to be tediously consumed with their own minor problems. Troubles that paled in comparison to the reality of the world in which they now lived. Holding his pistol in his lap, the intricate carving on the barrel coarse against the pads of his fingers, he watched the night as it slowly moved by him in an endless parade of shadows that pulsed and throbbed with sinister intent.

  With no one to distract him his thoughts began to wander, returning to that cabin in the woods. He felt small, helpless, as the old images blossomed from the bleak depths of his memories. With his minds eye he saw the interior of the cabin, a simple table next to a fireplace where a roaring fire bathed everything in a yellow light. He could smell the wood smoke as it competed with the stench of unwashed bodies. Four men sat around the table passing around a jar, each taking a drink as it came to them, their voices muted as they spoke in low tones that sounded like the rumble distant thunder. Their words indistinct, their features cast in shadows as they ignored his presence and concentrated on the contents of the jar.

  The sound of shuffling steps came from the shadowy depths of the back room. Something moved in the blackness and Window was suddenly overcome with a need to vomit, his stomach twisting with terror at the secrets that lay shrouded by the gloom.

  The sound of a door opening pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up as Meat stepped out into the shadows beside Window, pulling him from his thoughts, washing away the image in his mind as a face materialized in the blackness. A face he recognized, twisted into the leer of a wild beast, with glowing eyes that bored into the very depths of his soul.