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Deadland 02: Harvest

Page 13

by Aukes, Rachel


  Two. Another fell. Three. Four. My ears rang.

  I fired eleven shots in total and killed ten zeds. No one spoke while I fired. It was kind of like talking in someone’s back swing. It just wasn’t cool.

  When I lifted my rifle, Jase smiled and gave me a thumbs up.

  “Like fish in a barrel,” Griz said with a pat on my back. “Good job, Cash.”

  He motioned forward, and then headed down the four steps and into the room holding what I assumed to be the mechanicals of the boat. I swapped my rifle for my machete; even though noise no longer mattered, ammo was a precious commodity. We checked the bodies to make sure they were good and fully dead. Not that I was worried. Each one was a solid head shot.

  “God, it stinks down here,” Jase said.

  I nodded. “We need to find an air freshener warehouse.”

  “Boats need to be well-sealed or else they’d sink,” Griz said, holding his forearm over his nose. “It’s a good thing if we have to stay here through the winter. But damn, it’s going to take a while to air it out. Jesus.” He gagged and bent over. I thought he was going to throw up, but after a moment, he stood, pulled a scarf over his nose and stepped over a zed carcass.

  Metal creaked.

  “We’re coming in!” Tyler yelled from the opposite side of the room.

  “All clear!” Griz shouted back.

  Beams from three headlamps emerged from the darkness.

  “Everything covered from the back?” Griz asked.

  “That’s affirmative,” Tyler replied.

  He walked in and looked at the bodies.

  “There were eighteen beds in the crew quarters,” Griz said. “Add on one for the captain, we shouldn’t come across more than nineteen zeds, and that’s assuming they were running a full crew and not carrying passengers.” He counted on his fingers. “Three on the bridge, one in the galley, and the pair in the crew quarters. We came across another ten in the equipment room, and they all looked like crew. No passengers. So, that makes sixteen.”

  “Make that nineteen,” Tyler said. “We took out two hanging around the engines, and we found the final crew member dead on top of an engine, likely from dehydration. So there shouldn’t be any more left.”

  “Sonofa—” Nate’s cussing was cut off by a ruckus of metal crashing and shouts.

  We all sprinted to Nate’s position. My headlamp shone onto Jase’s back as he slashed something on the ground. When he moved, I saw that it had been a zed. More noticeably, it had been female, wearing a skirt and sporting a badly broken leg. The likely scenario? The crew had brought her on board during the outbreak, not realizing she’d been infected. Their compassion led to their deaths.

  “She bit me. She fucking bit me!”

  I stepped around Jase to see Nate’s wild eyes. Blood poured from his cheek and head. The zed had taken a couple good-sized chunks. He had less than an hour.

  Jase knelt by the collapsed locker. “Aw, hell.”

  “Nate,” Tyler said, falling to his knees. He shoved against the locker, trying to push it off the guardsman.

  Jase breathed deeply and then joined in, and they pushed the locker off Nate.

  Nate must’ve been in shock because he didn’t seem to notice the locker. He only lay there and held his cheek. He stared at Tyler. “She bit me.”

  Tack leaned on his machete.

  “Damn it,” Griz said.

  With a straight arm, Tyler pushed Jase back. He pulled out his sidearm and pressed a hand on Nate’s heart. “You’re a hero, Private Hawking. You’ve saved lives, and you’ve earned the peace that’s coming to you.”

  Nate squeezed his eyes shut as Tyler lifted the sidearm. His hand shook, but he didn’t waste any time. I jumped at the single gunshot. It still echoed through the room as Tyler stood and walked several feet away from us.

  Griz came down on a knee, clasped the cross he wore around his neck, and prayed.

  By the time he’d finished, I came to accept the fact that Nate was gone. It seemed like the more death I’d seen, the faster I moved on. I wasn’t so sure I liked that change in me.

  “The zed must’ve reached out and startled him,” Jase said. “He must’ve banged into the locker and it fell over on him.”

  It’d been my job to clear this room. My fault. “I can’t believe I missed one,” I said breathlessly. My brows furrowed as I stared at Nate’s body.

  “It was hidden behind the cabinet,” Jase said, grabbing my shoulder. “You couldn’t have seen it.”

  I still couldn’t help but think I should have seen it.

  After a long minute, Tyler returned. “Let’s wrap things up and get the engines running and lights on. We have less than forty-eight hours to get this towboat and barges ready for Camp Fox. We have to assume there could be more zeds wandering around here. Tack and Griz, you take the private above deck. Cash and Jase, you stay behind me.”

  We silently fell in line as he headed back toward the engine room.

  “I hate these enclosed spaces,” Jase said in a low voice, walking beside me. “If zeds got in here, there’d be no way out.”

  “We’re safe now,” I forced myself to say even though I didn’t believe the words. Jase needed my support, not my doubts. “Zeds would have to climb the side of the boat to get in here, and that’s not going to happen. This place will be a vault for Camp Fox, trust me. Once we get it cleared it, you’ll be safe here. I know it.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he replied. “You’ve been through more shit than just about anyone else out there. I still don’t know how you made it through that elementary school.”

  “It wasn’t fun, but it was nothing compared to Doyle’s camp.”

  “The Dogs, then all the zeds…man, I can’t imagine how much that must’ve sucked,” Jase said after a moment.

  “Yeah,” I replied in a quiet voice. “But you know what? The Dogs and the zeds weren’t the worst part.”

  He paused. “Then what was?”

  I chuckled drily. “Everyone thinks I went after Doyle to save Camp Fox.”

  “You did.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t need to go it alone. I also went after him because I was cocky enough to think I could pull it off all by myself without anyone else getting hurt.”

  Jase grabbed my arm, stopping me. “You did pull it off. You killed Doyle and took down the militia still loyal to him. You survived and no one got hurt.”

  “It was by sheer luck.” I shook my head. “No. It was a miracle. I realized that when I was lying on the roof, waiting to die. Hell, if I had half a brain, I would’ve stayed in the cellar with all the weapons and food until help arrived. That just goes to show you how unprepared I was.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “No, I’m not. I’ve made so many stupid mistakes that not only could’ve gotten myself killed, but also you or Clutch. It was at Doyle’s camp when I finally came to realize that I needed to get my act together and quit thinking I had everything under control. I found out I didn’t and I don’t. Hell, if I were a cat, I’d be on my ninth life by now.”

  He smirked. “Well, then at least you still have one left.”

  I sucker punched him in the arm. “Funny, ha ha.”

  “Seriously, though,” he said. “No one’s perfect. We all make mistakes, and as long as you can walk away from them, it’ll work out in time. Look, even your cut on your face is healing.”

  I lifted my hand to touch my stitches, but then dropped it. “Come on. Let’s clean out our new home.”

  ENVY

  The Second Deadly Sin

  Chapter XIII

  The following morning

  “Amen.” Griz said after a lovely hooah-style prayer for Nate. Tyler and Griz rolled Nate’s body off the edge of the deck, and he splashed into the river below. After him, we tossed over every member of the crew and the zed girl. Luckily, we hadn’t come across any others during o
ur search last night.

  We still had no power. The towboat’s fuel tanks were empty, and Wes couldn’t get the engines started last night with only the five gallons he’d brought with him on the pontoon. Without heat, last night had been cold. The smell of death had managed to leak into the second level captain’s quarters—in some part due to our clothes—so we’d left the door open to air out the room. The sweet, sickly stench had a way of seeping into everything and becoming a permanent part of a place. Zed stench didn’t exactly smell like potpourri. In a way, it was like smoke. Once it got into a person’s clothes, the smell lingered and nothing short of a heavy head-to-toe scrubbing could get rid of it. Our best defense for this night was the minty medicated ointment to help clear the lungs. We put a dollop of the stuff under each of our noses and took turns sleeping and standing watch.

  Earlier, Tack and Griz had fastened a ladder onto the side of the boat to make it easier getting to and from the dock Tyler and the guys were building. Jase had lost at rock-paper-scissors, and he had to scrub away the old blood and bits of brain on the bridge floor. Thankfully, it wasn’t carpeted, but it still stunk something awful.

  I turned and went back to the pile of supplies we’d been carrying up one load at a time. While the ladder made climbing much easier, it was still a tiresome, slow progress carrying one load at a time up the side of the Aurora. Wes was busy building a pulley system so we could pull up larger loads, but there were some things that couldn’t wait for Wes to finish.

  I rummaged through the pile and found the cardboard box I was looking for. I untied the rope around it and pulled out two brand new cans of disinfectant. There was a gold star on each can that read, Kills 99.9% of germs, and I chuckled. If only killing zeds was that easy.

  I headed to the bridge, took a deep breath, and entered. I didn’t leave until I’d emptied half a can. In the galley, I finished the can. In the crew quarters, where there were fewer windows, I used an entire can. The other rooms would have to wait. With all the windows and doors propped wide open, I hoped for a good breeze today to freshen up the towboat. I was hoping we’d be able to sleep in the crew quarters tonight where we’d have real beds and it’d be warmer. Somehow I suspected the crew quarters would take a couple more days to air out.

  “All done in there?” Tyler asked as I stepped onto the deck, savoring the fresh air. He was wiping his sweaty brow. Tack and Griz were each drinking water.

  “For now,” I said.

  “Good. Everyone, check your gear.”

  I headed for my weapons, and Jase took the empty Lysol cans from me.

  He lobbed them over the water with an impressive throw.

  “You’ve got a quarterback’s arm,” Griz said, walking over.

  “Nah,” Jase said. “I could never throw long straight.”

  “All right. Quit playing around and grab your gear,” Tyler announced. “We have Camp Fox arriving tomorrow and barges to prep, so let’s get to it,” Tyler said.

  * * *

  One day later

  Jase and I stood on the wood deck of the Aurora, watching the convoy approach down the highway from the west. We had hung the U.S. flag from the bridge, and it waved proudly in the fall breeze. The flag was our all-clear sign to the convoy. If the flag had been upside down or missing, our mission had failed and the Aurora wasn’t safe. I could only imagine how nervous everyone in the convoy must’ve felt until they saw the flag.

  I looked through the scope of my rifle. I counted fourteen vehicles in all. With the exception of a sports car for our scout vehicle, the other vehicles were all heavy duty: HEMTTs, Humvees, SUVs, trucks—one stacked with crates full of chickens—and a large semi pulling a trailer full of cattle, hogs, and goats. That the vehicles looked unscathed, coupled with the fact that they were slightly ahead of schedule, meant their journey was—hopefully—casualty-free. I continued to watch the vehicles, searching for signs of damage or injuries to their occupants.

  Clutch sat in the passenger seat of the first Humvee. He was wearing sunglasses, and his arm rested on the doorframe, his window open. I slung my rifle onto my shoulder and gave Jase a wide grin. “Everything looks good. I see Clutch in front.”

  He returned my smile and let out a deep breath. “Good. I was hoping we hadn’t stirred up any herds on our way over. I’ll go tell the others.” He jogged to the galley and toward the engine room where Wes and two of Sorenson’s people were finishing repairs. The Lady Amore had stopped by yesterday, and Sorenson had left three of his people, including his daughter, to help us get up and running. Their help and expertise were invaluable. His daughter, Nikki, had been born with sea legs, and she had a salty demeanor that came from spending most of her life on the river. She had been the one to get the engines running. Over the last twenty-four hours, we’d completed far more than we could’ve done with everyone from Camp Fox combined.

  Not that Sorenson had done all that out of the goodness of his heart. The new world was built on bartering, and he was one of the best at it. For three of his people to stay two days, Tyler gave him two pallets of MREs, which cut our MRE supply in half. Sorenson had delivered two more pontoons in exchange for the .30 cal on the back of Tyler’s Humvee. I told Tyler he was being too generous, but he believed it was more important to get the towboat and barges set up to sustain Camp Fox.

  If we had to stay the full winter on the Aurora or took on any more survivors, we didn’t have a single ration to spare. Tyler counted on any remaining zeds in the area to clear out and migrate with the herds, leaving the Midwest free for us to get what we needed from the bigger stores in towns. I didn’t have as much confidence. I knew for a fact that some buildings had quite a few zeds penned inside. I wasn’t looking forward to finding out which buildings those were.

  “Shit. Is the entire group soldiers?” Nikki Sorenson asked at my side.

  I started, not realizing she’d come up behind me. I looked at the now-stopped convoy on the east bank, where people were getting out and stretching, including Manny. Until Manny and his people had arrived, Camp Fox only had about ten civilians, the rest being soldiers—mostly Guardsmen. It hadn’t always been that way. After the outbreak, there had been well over a hundred non-military residents at Camp Fox. Doyle’s attack on Camp Fox had changed all that. The head of the militia had attacked when nearly all the soldiers were fixing the camp’s perimeter. No one had ever expected the attack to come from inside the base. The camp’s population had been decimated, and I’d almost lost Clutch.

  Only forty-two survivors had made it to the Fox National Park to rebuild Camp Fox. Even with stragglers coming in every week, soldiers outnumbered civvies three to one. I think that was part of the reason why Tyler and Griz were overly protective of Jase and me. They still saw us as civvies rather than soldiers.

  “Most are, I guess,” I said finally.

  From this distance, even most civvies could pass as soldiers. Many of the Fox survivors, including myself, wore desert tan or olive drab from Camp Fox’s supply rooms as it was our most abundant source of durable clothing.

  “Must be nice to have that kind of protection,” she said, her tone caustic.

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so, but it’s not like we’re not pulling our own weight. We all look after each other in some way.”

  Jase emerged from the galley and headed our way. “Wes says they’re nearly done down there. We’ll have power tonight, but there’s not much diesel fuel left for the engines. We’re going to have to go on a fuel run soon.”

  “Ha. Good luck with that,” Nikki said. “There’s no diesel fuel along this river for fifty miles in either direction. You’ll have to go onto dry land to find any.”

  “We’ll find some,” I said.

  “As long as you’re not taking what the Lady Amore needs,” she quickly added.

  My brows rose. “We’re not competing. We’re all in this together.”

  With her droll look, I could tell Nikki wasn’t convinced. “The Lady Amore needs fuel or e
lse we’re dead in the water. The Aurora isn’t going anywhere, so it’s not like you need it.”

  I chuckled. “We don’t need it for the boat. We need it for the generators. We’re just shooting for a couple luxuries to keep morale up: lights in the barges, some hot water, some portable heaters, and a couple working toilets.”

  “Hmph.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t even understand why you couldn’t just hop in a jet and fly all your people to safety.”

  My hands slid to my hips. I’d heard this all before, and it pissed me off every time. “Just because I have a pilot’s license doesn’t mean I can fly anything out there. You have a driver’s license. Does that mean you can drive a big semi-truck or bulldozer?”

  Jase cut between us. “It’s all going to work out,” he said. “Don’t be so sensitive. Sheesh.”

  After a moment, I sighed. “We’re all trying to just get by.”

  “Say that to the river towns,” a man from the Lady Amore chimed in as he approached. I tried to remember his name.

  “Hey, Bill,” Jase said as he fidgeted with his binoculars.

  Ah, Bill.

  Bill nodded to Jase before continuing. “Those towns that aren’t completely infested by zeds are having walls built around them. It’s getting harder and harder to find an open dock that’s big enough for the Lady.”

  “The towns are closing off their docks?” I asked.

  “No, they charge docking fees. Not to mention the outrageous fees for fuel and food,” he replied.

  “It’s a cutthroat world,” I said, not knowing what else to say. Yeah, times were tough, but I’d seen the Lady Amore in action. They were managing just fine.

  “Looks like they’re getting ready to load the pontoons,” Jase said at my side, looking through a pair of binoculars.

  I lifted my rifle and looked through the scope. Everyone in the convoy, with scouts on the outliers standing guard, was busy unloading supplies around Tyler by the three pontoons. Two dead zeds floated face-down nearby.

 

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