Generation Z (Book 1): Generation Z

by Peter Meredith

  “Move him? Are we really going to leave tonight?” Mike asked, jerking his head toward William and then giving Stu a significant look. Clearly Mike thought that moving William would kill him and he was probably right. “Maybe we should wait until morning.”

  While it was usually more dangerous traveling at night, Stu couldn’t imagine trying to make it back to the boat in daylight while hauling a cart and carrying William. They would need flat, unbroken ground and that meant walking straight down the highway where there wasn’t a lick of cover, and when they were spotted by zombies, they would have no choice but to leave William behind when they ran for safety.

  Their only real choice was to travel at night where the snow and the cold of the night could kill him.

  It was a decision he wished he didn’t have to make. Thankfully, Jenn said, “It’s bad luck to stay in the house of the dead.”

  That was all it took to get them all on board to leave as soon as possible. Even Kevin happily agreed. Stu glared at him. “I don’t know why you’re so chirpy. You’re coming with us. You have to face up to what you did.”

  He went white. “But…but they’ll kill me. If I go back they’ll kill me. Don’t you see that? H-How about this? I’ll help you lug your stuff. You brought a boat, right? I’ll help you lug your stuff to your boat and then you let me go. That’s punishment right there if you ask me. All alone with nothing. Don’t you think that’s punishment enough? It’ll be the same as banishment.”

  Stu started to shake his head, but Mike held up a hand. “It’s not a terrible idea. It saves everyone the headache of a trial and we can keep all the meds.”

  Jenn looked shocked at the idea. “Take all the meds? That’s not right. Those poor people back at the warehouse need them more than we do.”

  “They need them right now,” Mike answered, “but what about tomorrow? What about next month? Maybe we get the TB, then what do we do? Doing the right thing is good, but doing the right thing for your people is even better. Besides, they owe us.” He gestured toward William.

  “But they didn’t hurt William,” Jenn answered. “Kevin and his friends did. He should pay, not the others.”

  “That’s just it. They’re all the same. He’s one of them. You could say they made him like this. We’ve heard all the rumors about them; the stealing, the slaves, the filth. This guy right here is who they are.” Jenn and Mike bristled at each other and then, unexpectedly turned to Stu demanding his input.

  He didn’t know what to say since they both had good points. “Maybe we can do both. We can keep some of the meds as payment for William and give the rest back. And I think we should let Kevin go once we get back to the warehouse. Chances are he’ll die out there. Dying alone is about the worst thing I can think of.”

  Kevin’s smile bent. “Or I can come back with you guys. I learned my lesson. You have to believe me. I can…”

  “No one believes you,” Stu said. “Your only choices are to accept this punishment or be turned over to your people.”

  Kevin pushed the desperate smile back into place. “What if I told you I knew where you can find a doctor?”

  “And you haven’t mentioned it yet?” Mike asked. “Then I’d say you were even more of a lowlife scum than I thought. A man’s life hangs in the balance and you want to play games.”

  “My life hangs in the balance!” Kevin shot back.

  Jenn stepped between the two. “You better tell us what you know,” she whispered. “Tell us and trust us to treat you right.”

  He nodded and started, “There’s a girl doctor up north who is…” Stu groaned and Mike cursed.

  “What?” Jenn asked. “What’s wrong with a girl doctor?”

  Since Mike looked ready to hurt Kevin, Stu told her, “There’s no girl doctor. It was just a rumor that was going around. Supposedly she was in Portland, but two years ago traders went up that way looking for her and came away with nothing. If traders couldn’t find her she doesn’t exist.” The true story was that slavers had been searching for this mystical girl for years but Stu didn’t think it was a good time to bring that up.

  “Watch him closely,” Stu told Jenn. “Shoot him if he even blinks.” Despite his tough talk, Stu was in a much better mood now that a decision had been made. He hurried through the dark house looking for something to use as a stretcher.

  There was precious little save for the runners of a bed. These were heavy but sturdy. Using rope and bedsheets he created a stretcher which he and Kevin used to carry William out into the night. To keep Kevin from running away at the first chance, Stu tied a noose around his neck. He tied the other end of the rope around William’s waist as an anchor.

  Then they were ready to go. Mike hauled the cart with their belongings and Jenn led the way. The dead were still out in force in the neighborhood. Their enormous shapes could be seen outlined in the swirling snow, going here and there. Twice they came too close and Jenn was forced to run out into the darkness waving her hands to distract the beasts.

  Both times Stu waited for her to return, huddled down against the cold, his heart in his throat. Jenn proved sure-footed in the snow and both times came back winded but unhurt.

  The danger grew less when they escaped from the neighborhood and got to the highway. Then it became more of a physical ordeal as they slogged along hauling William’s dead weight. It was back-breaking and after an hour Stu and Kevin could barely go on. Mike switched places with Stu while Jenn went to help Kevin. Even rotating like this, it was a struggle. They would go for a hundred yards, stop, and kneel in place with their heads bowed, their muscles burning. After a minute they would force themselves on again.

  It took them almost two hours to cover the distance back to Sacramento and by then they were all numb from the cold and completely exhausted. But there was no quit in them. Except for Kevin that is. He had to be kicked to his feet after every break during the last half a mile. When they got to the Puffer he ran away the moment he was untied.

  They watched him reeling through the snow like a drunk and none of them had the energy to go after him even though he fell after fifty yards and could only crawl away. “Good riddance,” Mike mumbled. There was nothing good about it. Without Kevin’s help, the three of them struggled mightily to get William onto the boat.

  Without a word, Mike untied the mooring ropes and raised the sail. He started for the middle of the channel, but Stu shook his head. “Head for their warehouse.” Mike was too tired to complain. A dark look was all he could muster and that too disappeared as a sudden gust of wind slapped him with a fresh wave of snow.

  Mike had reached the limits of exhaustion and was groggy by the time they reached the dock. Jenn had covered her and William with a blanket and was asleep with her head resting on his chest, despite his gurgling breath. It was up to Stu to haul the boxes to the warehouse. Forty yards had never felt so far.

  Dropping the boxes, he hammered on the door and turned away. “What is this?” Willis demanded. He and a few others stood in the doorway, wrapped in coats and blankets. They made no move for the two boxes. “Where’s the rest?”

  “Don’t you mean, thank you?”

  “No, I mean where’s the rest of our stuff? And where are Everett and those other turds?”

  Just then, telling the truth seemed like too much work. “Dead, and you’re welcome for that, too.”

  Willis looked startled by the bleak answer. Swallowing noisily, he said, “That still doesn’t explain why all you brought…” Stu turned his back on the man in midsentence and didn’t react when he started cursing. He was simply too drained to care what the man thought.

  It wasn’t just physical exhaustion weighing him down either. He had failed in his mission. It had been a complete fiasco. William sounded like he was drowning on his own blood and now Jeff and Aaron had no chance. They were doomed.

  “Move over,” he said to Mike as he got to the Puffer. Mike was slumped at the tiller, his hood drooped over his face. “I’ll take us home
.” Mike’s exhaustion was such that he didn’t argue.

  Sailing at night in a snowstorm was the height of stupidity; but he had no choice. Luckily, with the wind almost blowing straight down the canal it took very little skill to keep the boat centered far from danger, except for the occasional body. When he hit these there would be a thump or a shudder along the keel. At one point he hit a living corpse. It swept under the boat and got caught up on the daggerboard.

  The beast acted like a forward rudder and they slewed right. Stu was too tired to panic. With a heavy sigh, he hauled the rudder to center and then crab-walked to the daggerboard and hefted it out. Immediately the boat swung back.

  This was about the only bit of excitement on the three-hour trip. While the snow turned to biting rain, the wind stayed strong right through the bay. They fairly shot across the water to Pelican Harbor, where the wind slackened enough to make mooring the boat a piece of cake.

  “Is he still alive?” Stu asked. William was eerily white, his face swimming up out of the dark like a ghost. Jenn nodded, the lines crossing her forehead telling Stu that she didn’t think he would be alive for much longer. “Go ahead of us and get help,” he ordered her. She took her crossbow and left at a jog.

  He and Mike heaved the homemade stretcher onto the dock and then began the laborious process of hefting William up the hill. It had never felt so steep.

  Halfway up, they were met by Winston and One Shot. They each grabbed a corner of the stretcher. A few minutes later, more men and women joined them, allowing Mike and Stu a chance to rest their arms. When others arrived, Stu asked some of them to go back to the harbor to get their packs and the medicine.

  No questions were asked and they wouldn’t be as long as they were outside the gates. No, the questions and the judgments would come only once everyone was safe inside. Then they would come hot and heavy and he knew the one that would be chief of these: Why didn’t he go in with M4s at the ready? He had his excuses, the cold being chief of these, but right behind it had been the fact that they had never been attacked by the people of Sacramento before.

  When the solemn, silent parade of people reached the gates of the complex, William was hustled away to the clubhouse, with Stu, Mike and Jenn following behind. They were stopped at the doors by Miss Shay who watched without emotion as William was carried in.

  “Do you have the medicine?” she asked, showing that her main…her only concern was for her child.

  Miss Shay’s face went rigid as Stu shook his head. “We will call for you and when you we do, you had better be prepared to answer to the Coven.”

  Stu dropped his chin and wouldn’t look up as she stormed inside. Mike put a hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I didn’t do anything right, either.”

  Chapter 19

  Jenn Lockhart

  Since they were the ultimate authority, facing the Coven in their official capacity would normally have kept Jenn from sleeping. The seven governed through a fair amount of native wisdom that could be utterly overthrown by the capricious nature of the omens, the gods and the fates.

  Although Jenn had done nothing wrong, it didn’t mean that her life couldn’t be turned on its head if the wrong Tarot card came up. Still, she had been up for nearly twenty-three very hard hours and, fully clothed, she slipped into sleep the second her head hit the pillow.

  A steady thumping on her front door woke her seven hours later. It took a moment to blink herself awake; it took no time for her stomach to swirl with guilt and worry. The thumping continued. “Jenn? Are you in there?” It was Colleen White, her voice pitched nervously high. “Jenn? The Coven is asking to see you.”

  Jenn slid out of bed, went to the door, only to pause before answering. She was still wearing the “boy” clothes from the day before—they were stained with dried blood.

  “Can you tell them I’ll be right down?” she whispered through the door. Colleen said she would and Jenn heard her take a step away. “Hey? How’s William?”

  “Still alive, barely.”

  Jenn put her forehead against the door; it was cold, the entire apartment was cold. She had banked the remains of the fire the morning before and now the embers were no longer hot and only ash remained. It was an ill-omen, but how to read it? Did it portend death? Likely, but there were other interpretations: a cold hearth could also mean a journey or change of residence. None of which sounded good to Jenn. She’d had her fill of journeys and a change of residence could only mean banishment, though this was highly unlikely since she had done nothing wrong to warrant such a terrible punishment.

  She was still kneeling in front of the fireplace when Mike left his room. She could feel him staring at her. “We should get ready,” he said. “It’ll only be worse if we keep them waiting.”

  There was no time to get the fire going and heat water. They used cold well water to clean themselves up. Mike wore jeans and a plaid shirt which he buttoned nearly to the top, while Jenn wore a floral dress and, in the odd fashion of the Hill People, wore a pair of jeans under it to keep out the chill.

  Together they went to the clubhouse where a crowd of people were gathered. At the sight of the two, they stopped gossiping and the children stopped playing. A few people waved and a few said hi. The rest only stared.

  Stu and Colleen waited for them in the open front room. Stu’s face was like granite, hard and unsmiling. His eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn’t slept at all. Colleen, wearing a dress with black slacks beneath, flashed a sad smile, showing a single dimple.

  “I’m witnessing today,” she told them. It would be her job to watch the proceedings, write down what was said and then tell the rest of the Hill People. She led them to the audience chamber where the Coven waited. Sitting to the side was Gerry the Greek. He shook his head at them.

  “Start at the beginning,” Donna Polston ordered.

  Standing stiffly, his hands at his sides, his eyes staring past the women and at the wall behind them, Stu told them the entire story. When he explained his reasoning for going into the house where Everett and his friends had holed up without their guns ready, Gerry muttered, “Pathetic.”

  “We’ve never had problems with them before,” Mike said, coming to Stu’s defense. “And it wasn’t like we had a lot of time to discuss things right there on the porch, the place was crawling with the dead.”

  “Enough,” Donna said. Although she had a quiet way of speaking she had power to her voice and Gerry bit back a retort. Stu finished his story.

  Other than the lapse of judgment in trusting Everett Baron, Jenn thought the three of them came across as brave and determined, which made Lois Blanchard’s pursed lips hard to comprehend.

  Lois sighed and said, “A sad tale all around.”

  “We should send someone to the Santas and ask them for antibiotics.” Miss Shay sounded close to begging.

  “We will,” Donna replied, with a look of sympathy.

  Gerry the Greek snorted, “Don’t bother. I sent a couple of the boys down there yesterday. They don’t have nothing.” He scratched at his black hair, causing it to stick up in a rooster’s comb.

  Miss Shay began blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling down her stern face. She was as unsympathetic of a person as Jenn had ever met but even she wanted to give the woman a hug. “There’s always the girl doctor that everyone talks about,” Jenn said. “We could try to find…”

  In a blink of her watery eyes, Miss Shay picked up a pencil and hurled it at Jenn, missing high. “Girl doctor? Shut up! This is your fault. Yours and his!” Surprisingly, she was pointing at Mike. “You two did this.”

  “What the hell did I do?” he demanded, furiously.

  Donna tried to calm Miss Shay while Lois answered, “You’re both bad luck, especially together. It was a mistake to try to connect you two. We know that you asked her Mike, but did she answer yet? Tell me she didn’t.”

  Mike shared a look with Jenn. She turned away first, unable to
meet his eye as she felt the stirrings of panic well up inside of her. Not only was she being publicly labeled as “bad luck,” she was being blamed for what was likely going to be three deaths. On top of all of that, having her marriage proposal taken from her would put her on the bottom of the list.

  She hated the very idea of being on any list, but to be on the bottom of the list was even more awful. They would try to stick her with one of the widowers who were all at least twenty years older, which was gross. The thought had her belly twisting. And yet if she turned down whoever they tried to stick her with, she could very well end up alone forever.

  To an orphaned fifteen-year-old, the idea was frightening. The words, “Yes. I said yes,” just came blurting out of her mouth. She grabbed Mike’s arm with both hands digging into the plaid shirt.

  He looked surprised at first, but this faded into disappointment which he hid behind a smile. “She said yes. We, uh we’re going to get married.”

  “Good for you,” Gerry the Greek said, getting to his feet to clap Mike on the shoulder. Up close, his dark eyes bored into Jenn’s face, searching for the truth. She couldn’t take this and, still clinging to Mike, she took a step behind him. “Good for you,” he repeated before turning to the Coven. “You guys got something, now I need what’s coming to me. I need a little compensation. I lost two perfectly sound men, three if you include Mike.”

  “They’re not dead yet,” Lois answered, softly, fooling no one. She didn’t believe they would live, either.

  “Sure,” the Greek said. “I’m just saying we had a deal, and now it’s only fair if both Hilly and Ginny come to the Island.”

  Donna released Miss Shay and stood. “Our agreement is not open for public discussion. We’re here to decide on what to do about them.” She pointed at Mike and Jenn. “The signs couldn’t be any clearer. They were a mistake. Have you consummated your marriage?” Their blanks looks told her they didn’t understand the question.