Jake's Law: A Zombie Novel

by James Gurley

  His makeshift sandals were ragged strips worn through by the time he stumbled upon the next ranch house. As he clambered over the fence, a rifle shot forced him to the ground. Someone still lived there. A male voice called out.

  “Get off my property.”

  “I just need water and something to wear,” he replied.

  “I’ll hit you next time. I mean it. Git!”

  Jake decided a naked man with a crude spear couldn’t win an argument with a rifle. He left.

  He abandoned the idea of nearby ranches. They were few and scattered across the valley, taking too much time to search, and time was another thing he didn’t have. Levi’s men could discover he was missing at any time. His best hope lay in San Manuel.

  He avoided the road, following the river until it began to curve away from the town, and then cut cross country. He went up and down washes and arroyos and over ridges, trying to avoid teddy bear cholla, prickly pear, and saguaros with his naked body. The sun beat down on him unmercifully. He focused his attention on the direction in which he was going and plodded onward. His yucca sandals disintegrated along the way. He continued barefoot. His feet touched asphalt before he realized he was on the outskirts of town. He immediately spotted zombies prowling the streets. Normally, he would have left them alone, especially in his haggard condition, but now he didn’t have that option. It was almost dark and food and clothing might be in one of the houses. He had to reach them. The creatures’ emaciated condition and slow gait encouraged him. They were Shamblers, not Runners. He hoped they were weaker than he was. If he moved quickly, he could subdue them silently without alerting other creatures, perhaps stronger ones, of his presence.

  Gripping his spear with both hands, he raced across the open ground toward the first one, a man who might have once been a cook or butcher wearing a bloodstained apron. Jake didn’t have time to wonder if the blood had been from its profession or from its prey. It noticed him when he was less than twenty feet away and lurched toward him, a low wail rising from its throat. He jabbed the spear through the creature’s eye and into the brain, yanking it free before the zombie could fall and wrench the spear from his grasp. The second zombie, now alerted, closed on him just as a third lumbered into view, saw him, and growled. Outnumbered, he had to act fast. Using the spear as a vaulting pole, he rammed the second zombie in the chest with both feet. It stumbled backwards and fell. Before it could rise, he stabbed it through the skull.

  The third creature was in better condition, faster than a Shambler, but not as strong as a Runner. It moved swiftly and was upon him before he could recover his spear from the second creature’s head. He kicked at it to keep it at bay, while he struggled to free his spear. Just as he thought he would have to abandon his only weapon and run for his life, he managed to yank it free. He stabbed it into the third zombie’s heart several times. Even injured, perhaps fatally, it continued its pursuit. Jake spun on his heel and rammed it into the back of the creature’s skull, just beneath the occipital ridge. He yanked the blade sideways, severing the creature’s cervical vertebrae, but the haft of the flimsy spear snapped, leaving his precious steel blade embedded in the creature’s skull. He tossed the piece of useless wood to the ground and fought to catch his breath.

  The long walk into town and the battle with the three creatures had sapped his strength. He couldn’t face more of the creatures, especially weaponless. Still breathing hard, he stumbled to the nearest house. The door was locked, but he broke a window and crawled inside, careful of the broken glass beneath his already bloody bare feet. He was relieved that no irate homeowner with a shotgun confronted him for his act of breaking and entering. In the post-apocalyptic world, justice was often swift without trial or explanation.

  In the kitchen, he located two cans of peaches, the only food not devoured by invading pack rats and hordes of insects. His hand trembled, as he used the can opener to get at the can’s contents. The syrup was sweet and satisfying. He drained the first can, letting juice dribble down his chin and onto his chest, before devouring its contents using his dirty fingers. Satisfied, he tossed the empty can aside and began searching the kitchen for anything useful. He smiled when he saw an eight-inch chef’s knife lying beside the sink. He picked it up. Its weight felt good in his hand, and the balance was superb. On impulse, he also took the six-inch vegetable knife from the knife block. With weapons in hand, he inspected the rest of the house. The bedroom was a shambles. Clothing was strewn over the bed and floor from the hasty departure of the former homeowners. The only articles of clothing he found that fit were a pair of denim jeans two inches too short and a black tee shirt with a list of Van Halen tour dates and cities for their 2012 tour. It would have to do.

  Digging beneath the bed, he found a pair of work boots. They were a size too big, but with two pairs of socks, they sufficed. He found no weapons other than the two kitchen knives, now tucked into his belt. He had better luck in the garage. He pocketed a Bic lighter and a case pocketknife with a file and two blades. A collection of yard tools hanging from a rack on the wall caught his eye. Most were useless as weapons – an electric hedge trimmer, a jig saw, a hoe, a shovel, a rake – but one had potential. He picked up the pair of large hedge shears, admiring its twelve-inch blades and sixteen-inch wooden handle. Using a wrench from a toolbox, he dismantled the shears, testing the feel of one of the blades in his hand. It was heavy enough and sharp enough to be an effective machete. He gave the blade a few minute’s attention with a rat-tail file to hone the edges to a razor-sharp finish. As an afterthought, he removed the tines from the rake and kept the handle to use as a walking staff.

  Now, clothed and properly weaponed, he set about gathering any small items that might prove useful, including the remaining can of peaches, and dropped them in a child’s SpongeBob Squarepants backpack he found hanging from a hook by the door. He felt foolish carrying it, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He couldn’t ignore Jakes’ Law # 9 – Use the tools you’ve got. He tried not to dwell on the fate of the child that had owned the bag or its parents. Too many people had died to make it personal. There were just three people he cared about, and two were prisoners. He had to do something about it, but not yet. He wasn’t ready for a confrontation with Levi.

  His exhaustion overwhelmed him as he was planning his next move. He made certain the doors were secured and curled up on the bed. He was taking a chance, but he couldn’t continue without rest. He fell asleep almost immediately.

  * * * *

  June 24, 2016 San Manuel, AZ –

  He awoke just before dawn, better rested but sore. One by one, he examined the nearby houses, gathering what items he deemed necessary or useful – a ball of twine, a flashlight and extra batteries, a cheap compass, a light jacket for cooler nights, a small mirror, a few bottles of water, chlorine tablets for an RV water tank. The water purification tablets would make drinking water from springs and creeks safer. The home’s former occupants had been camping enthusiasts. An all-season tent was tempting but too bulky to transport. A roll of plastic tarp was lighter and would serve the same purpose, as well as catch rain water. A canteen, a collapsible plastic five-gallon water bag, a sleeping bag, and camp cookware went into backpack, followed by two rolls of duct tape. Its myriad of uses would come in handy.

  He coiled a length of climbing rope he found hanging from a rafter around the outside of the pack. Fate seemed to favor him as he came across a pair of leather hiking boots in his size. He discarded the old boots but kept both pair of socks. Most houses had already been thoroughly ransacked, but one pantry produced several cans of beans and soup. His child’s backpack was full. He added items to a pillow case and suspended it from his belt. The one object he most desired he couldn’t find – a pistol or rifle.

  He glanced out the window at the sound of a trashcan being overturned. His search had attracted unwanted attention from zombies, not all of them as slow and emaciated as the first three. He decided it was time to leave. He knew remaining near
San Manuel would be dangerous. If the zombies didn’t get him, some of Levi’s men would eventually discover his escape and search him out. His best bet for safety lay in the mountains with which he was familiar.

  The Galiuro Mountains were a maze of canyons, washes, ridges, and peaks. He decided on the upper elevations east of San Manuel where water, game, and trees for firewood were more abundant. Hefting his brightly colored backpack, his rolled up tarp and sleeping bag, his makeshift machete, and his rake handle walking stick, he started out.

  Escape wasn’t as easy as he hoped. He avoided most of the zombies by dodging in and out of houses and through backyards, but one persistent creature, an extremely large specimen, continued to dog his trail. Finally, realizing that the zombie’s untiring pursuit would outlast his remaining store of energy, he stopped to fight at the edge of the river. In his weakened condition, it was a risky move. He dropped his pack and gear, and allowed the creature to catch up. Part of its lower jaw was missing, but it still retained enough teeth to cause considerable damage. Its size, over two hundred and fifty pounds, would work in its favor. When the zombie saw Jake, it wailed and quickened its pace.

  When it was within striking distance, he faced it with his makeshift machete. He fended off the first attack with the blunt edge of the blade to judge the creature’s strength, which proved to be considerably more than his. He realized he could take no chances. As the creature raced at him the second time, he backed up, and then leaped aside and brought the blade down on the side of creature’s neck. The sharp blade sliced deeply into the tender flesh above the collar bone. When he wrenched the blade free, blood sprayed from the wound in rapid pulses as the artery drained. The creature continued to lumber toward him while the last of its strength slowly ebbed. Jake kept backing away until the creature finally collapsed to the ground at his feet, dead. He wiped the bloody blade on the creature’s shirt and rolled its corpse into the river. The current swiftly sped it downstream and out of view.

  He was still bruised and sore from his beating and exhausted from his journey into San Manuel and his fight with the zombies. He wanted nothing more than to rest, but he knew he couldn’t linger in the area. He was too exposed. If he didn’t reach his destination before he collapsed, he never would. The lure of sleep nagged at him with every step, but he ignored it. Each foot in elevation he gained meant safety. He followed one of the canyons northeast of San Manuel because it was easier hiking than the Copper Creek trail that ran higher along the ridges. In places, the runoff from the rain was deep and swift, channeled by the narrow canyon walls. Fording the streams was dangerous, and the cold water drained his energy. In spite of his condition, he made good time, reaching Bluebird Mine Road just as the last light of day was failing.

  He gathered what dry brush he could find and built a small campfire. Sitting down to a dinner of hot soup, followed by half the can of peaches, he finally allowed his weariness to overcome him. He stripped off his wet clothing, hung them to dry beside the fire, and collapsing on top of his sleeping bag naked. He ignored the voice inside his head telling him to secure the area and trusted to luck that he would see the sun rise again. He rolled up in the sleeping bag and slept.

  17

  June 22, 2016 Split Rock Canyon, AZ –

  Jake was gone. Through a window in the work shed, Jessica watched in horror as two of Levi’s men dragged him to the jeep and drove away while Levi stood on the balcony of Jake’s seized house smiling down on the proceedings like a vengeful judge presiding over a hanging. She didn’t expect to feel as she did. After all, Jake was just a man with whom she had traded sex for a safe place to stay and training in how to survive in the new world. She didn’t love him. She felt something for him, some emotion just beyond gratitude, but she wasn’t certain what it was. It was certainly less than she had felt for her boyfriend. Whatever emotion coursed through her veins, she still didn’t want him to die.

  “Don’t give up on him yet,” Reed said.

  She turned to him. “He’s tied up and naked. What do you expect him to do?”

  Reed’s brow furrowed as he stared at her. “What’s with the sudden concern? He doesn’t care about us.”

  She found herself in the awkward position of defending Jake. “He’s a loner. Being around people was something new to him.”

  “Now you’re making excuses for him?”

  “I’m not … Oh, shut up.”

  When one of the guards walked by the window, stopped and made lewd gestures at her, she walked away from the window and sat on a stool by the workbench. They had been prisoners in the one room house for two days. Food and water was brought to them sporadically, but going to the bathroom was a humiliating experience, as she was forced to squat beside the building with her guards standing over her watching and smiling. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Levi decided her fate.

  She had seen the way he had looked at her, like he was staring through her clothes. She couldn’t use him like she had Jake. Levi was a hard, dangerous man. Besides, the black-haired bitch that orbited him like a moon wouldn’t allow that to happen. He would use her like a whore and discard her with the trash. She would become like one of the other girls around the camp, doing drudge work and keeping the men happy. It was fate she didn’t wish to contemplate.

  “Do you have a plan?” she asked.

  “I’m going to try to be as useful to Levi as I can. It’s the only thing I’ve got to offer him.”

  His veiled reference to her sex didn’t amuse her. “I don’t know. I don’t think his men would shy away from anal sex with a cute fat guy.”

  Reed fumed and glared at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You didn’t deserve that.”

  His features softened. “Jake will find a way to come after us.” He nodded his head as he spoke, as if he were trying to convince himself.

  “I thought you said we were own our own.”

  “He’ll never give up this ranch. Freeing us will be … collateral.”

  “They’re going to kill him.” The truth left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  Reed ignored her. He looked around the workshop at Jake’s reloading machines. “I’ve been studying these machines. I think I can use them. If I can make myself useful …”

  Jessica shook her head. “Levi will never trust you. He doesn’t trust his own men. He only allows two or three of them around him, and the bitch, of course. He keeps the rest at a distance. Oh, if they had only left something to use as a weapon. I’d rather go down fighting than wind up one of Levi’s whores.”

  “Jake mentioned something buried on the north side of the chicken coop wall. I’m figuring it’s weapons of some sort. That’s the kind of secret he liked to keep.”

  Jessica perked up. “If we could get to them …”

  Reed guffawed. “Fat chance of that. They’ve already slaughtered the goats and chickens. If they saw either of us around there, they would suspect something was up.”

  “The water pump is nearby. Couldn’t you make up an excuse to check on it?”

  While Reed considered her proposal, she returned to the window. One of the men grabbed a young girl, barely sixteen, and dragged her into one of the tents. The girl struggled as best she could, but it was futile. Her fate was sealed. Was that her future, a whore for Levi’s army? She made up her mind that she would die before she let one of the creatures calling themselves men touch her.

  “I can try, but not too soon or he’ll be suspicious.”

  “Don’t wait too long,” she warned. “Levi doesn’t strike me as patient.”

  Two armed men came for them an hour later and escorted them to the house, shoving Reed in the back with the butt of a rifle when he moved too slowly for them. She noticed that Levi had already made himself at home. He sat in Jake’s favorite leather chair with a bottle of whiskey beside him. His raven-haired angel hovered near him like a faithful dog. She sneered when Jessica entered the room. A vein throbbed beneath the scar on her temple.

/>   “I hope you’ve been comfortable,” Levi said.

  “As comfortable as your guards would allow,” Reed answered, “Though a bed would have been nice.”

  Jessica ignored Reed and his attempt at chit-chat and snapped, “What did you do with Jake?”

  Levi stared at her for a moment, and then smiled. “We staked him out for the mountain lions to gnaw on. As a hunter, I’m sure he appreciated the irony.”

  A rage she couldn’t control swept over her. “Fuck you!” she shouted and lunged at him.

  The dark-haired woman took a menacing step toward her, growling deeply in her throat, as her hand fingered the long knife at her hip. Levi stopped her with a wave of one hand, grabbing Jessica by the throat with the other. She pulled at his hands as he squeezed the breath from her, but his grip was too strong. Just as she was passing out, he released her. She collapsed to her knees gasping for breath.

  “Don’t try that again, or I’ll let Hawk slice you up. Now, you two can join our little group or die. I leave the choice to you, although I’m sure Hawk here would love to gut you both just for practice.”

  Reed stepped forward. “I apologize for Jessica. We’ve both been under a lot of stress lately. I for one am willing to join you. I vote for surviving.”

  Jessica glared at Reed, unable to speak. She had made a foolish move that had almost cost them their lives. She studied Reed’s face. If he was lying to get in Levi’s good graces, he was hiding it well. Taking a deep breath she said, “I don’t for a minute think you’ll let us live long, so go ahead and kill me now.”

  Levi shook his head slowly. “You have courage, if not wisdom.” He looked at Reed. “As a science teacher, you might prove useful, but if you screw with me, I’ll hang you outside the wall as zombie bait.” His gaze returned to Jessica. The intensity of the look in his eyes made her shudder. “You, however, bear watching. You know how to hate. I like that. You’re like me.”