Deadland 02: Harvest

by Aukes, Rachel

  I turned to Sorenson, who sat on the floor, his wrists cuffed in front of him. His two men sat next to him, one on each side. Their chains were long enough to allow some mobility so that they could reach the single bucket that served as their toilet.

  They all watched us. Sorenson with a blank look, the man to his right glowered with disdain, and the man to his left simply looked exhausted. My jaw tightened, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “You killed a good man. A man who would never hurt an innocent.”

  Sorenson blinked a couple times, but his gaze didn’t connect with mine. It was distant, dull. “I lost my daughter yesterday.”

  “There’s no one left alive who hasn’t lost someone they love,” I said.

  Sorenson’s gaze sharpened as his brows furrowed. “When I left Nikki with the Aurora, she was alive and vibrant. When I watched those two men bring her back,” he eyed Jase, “She-she was gone.”

  “It was an accident,” Jase said. “I’m sure Tack would’ve told you that.”

  “I am sorry about your man. When I saw what had happened to Nikki, I couldn’t bear it.”

  “And so you killed an innocent man,” Clutch said, anger dripping from each word.

  Sorenson gulped, frowned, lowered his head, and then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. I can’t bring him back any more than I can bring my little Nikki back.”

  “It does matter,” I said. “Nikki slipped and fell. It was an accident.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Clutch added.

  “What happened to your daughter sucks, but it was an accident. What you did was murder,” Jase said.

  Sorenson scowled. “Is there even such a thing as murder anymore? We kill those who used to be family and friends every day, just because they get sick. Who are we to judge what constitutes murder and what doesn’t?”

  I shook my head. “Tack wasn’t a zed. He was a young man who’d done nothing except help return your daughter’s body to you.”

  Sorenson climbed to his feet and backed up several steps. “She was everything to me. Everything I’d done, taking passengers onto the riverboat, all of that was for her. She was the only reason I helped anyone.” He picked up the now-lax chain and held it in his hands. He looked up. As long seconds passed, his distant gaze narrowed with intent. “I have nothing without her. Nothing!”

  In a sudden rush, he wrapped the chain around his neck and sprinted forward.

  I lunged to stop him, but wasn’t fast enough. When the chain was pulled tight, Sorenson was yanked back, and he collapsed onto the floor.

  “Captain! No!” His men each moved to kneel by him. One pulled the chain from around Sorenson’s neck while the other watched as the man on the floor convulsed. I took a single step closer but didn’t get within reaching distance of the prisoners. Sorenson’s eyes were wide as he fought for breath that wouldn’t come. His body shuddered on the floor. After a minute or two, his body became still and his hands fell.

  “Is he—?” I asked, afraid to voice the word aloud.

  “He’s dead,” one of his men said without looking up.

  “His windpipe was crushed,” Clutch said quietly at my side. “There was nothing anyone could do.”

  I stared at the now-slack chain and then at Jase and Clutch. By their wide eyes, they were as shocked as I was. I swallowed. “Shit.”

  We were going to have a war on our hands.

  * * *

  “Cash? You around here somewhere?” Clutch’s voice cut through the fog.

  “Over here,” I answered.

  “Where’s here?”

  “At the stern,” I said.

  I could hear footsteps, then a dark shape morphed into Clutch. He took a seat on the deck and set his weapon down next to him. He’d swapped his wheelchair and crutches for a cane yesterday. The swelling on his spine had finally subsided enough that he had decent control over his legs again. He couldn’t jog, but at least he could put one foot in front of another. I’d been terrified that he’d never reach this point, which would’ve killed his spirit.

  “There’s not much I can do in this fog,” I said. “I can’t see five feet in front of me. I feel like I’m just sitting on my ass instead of being on duty.”

  “At least if we can’t see them, then the zeds can’t see us. Besides, we can hear better than they can.” He handed me a thermos.

  “Thanks.” I took a sip of the steaming tea and burned my tongue. I winced and screwed the cap back on.

  Since Clutch had dropped off his wheelchair with Doc, his mood had improved a hundred-fold. While I still believed he suffered from depression—and he clearly suffered from PTSD—it was nice to see him not staring off blankly into the unknown quite as often.

  “This fog could save us,” he said. “The zeds may move on since they can’t see us.”

  Until the zeds left, there wasn’t much we could do besides quietly get the Aurora back into shape. It was too foggy to go ashore or even down the river on any scouting runs. We’d used up a ton of fuel putting out fires and making repairs. The herds would be passing through any day now, so we couldn’t go in search of any livestock. Thank God we still had the grain, though the lack of complete protein this winter would be hard.

  “Hopefully we don’t have to worry about the Lady Amore any time soon,” I said. Immediately after Sorenson’s death, Tyler had organized a truce with Sorenson’s men. He’d offered them full pardons in exchange for no more attacks. He’d even offered another chance at the trade agreement, which they’d quickly accepted. However, many of us weren’t nearly as confident as Tyler was that they wouldn’t seek revenge or try to steal from us again. The riverboat had left minutes after we’d returned Sorenson’s body back along with his two men, and the boat hadn’t returned.

  “I still think we should’ve gone in and hit them hard. They know they’re outgunned and they wouldn’t try something stupid again,” Clutch said. “It all depends on Sorenson’s replacement. They could be smart and know the value of working together, or they could be idiots. We’ll have to stay on our toes until we know. It’s too bad Sorenson killed himself. He was easy to figure out. He was a straight shooter, except that he let his heart get in the way. Whoever replaces him could be more of a challenge.”

  I nodded and then smiled. “At least we have his speedboat now. I’m looking forward to going for a ride.” Tyler had given Sorenson’s men one of our deck boats in a “trade” for their speedboat. He wasn’t about to let them leave with our .30 cal again.

  A light breeze blew through, and I shivered. My clothes were damp from the fog and offered little warmth. I held the thermos against me. “I need to start wearing a jacket.”

  “Here,” Clutch said as he wrapped an arm around me.

  I leaned into him, savoring his warmth and the closeness. We sat and watched as the sun burned through the fog. A low haze sat just above the water, but I could see the land over it.

  “Look.” I pointed to the riverbank. “The zeds have cleared out on the east side. You’re right. They’re leaving.”

  Clutch twisted his neck to take in the landscape. “Yeah, but they’re still on the bridge and on the west side.”

  “Hopefully just one more day of us laying low and they’ll leave like the others.”

  “Hey guys,” Wes said through a yawn as he approached.

  “Mornin’,” I said, climbing to my feet.

  Wes took a seat on the deck behind the rail where I’d been sitting. The boat was angled in the water in a way that allowed us to watch the bridge and see land from every direction without being seen by the zeds. “Man, I’d rather still be asleep.”

  “That’s all everyone does anymore,” Clutch grumbled. He used his cane to push himself to his feet and looked at me. “Feel up to some sparring?”

  “You bet.” I turned to Wes. “Don’t have too much fun.”

  He scowled, and I headed off with Clutch.

  Clutch had a point. Once the critical repairs had been made to the
Aurora, there was little left that could be done quietly. It didn’t take more than a couple days of relative safety for laziness to set in. Hell, if I didn’t have Clutch’s persistence at having me spar with him and Jase’s contagious energy, I’d be heading back to bed right now out of boredom.

  As we walked across the deck, I watched Clutch’s legs as his stride nearly matched mine. “You’re healing really fast now. I can already tell a huge difference from yesterday.”

  “Doc said that healing would happen in bursts. All I can tell you is that it can’t happen soon enough. I’m sick and tired of being a cripple.”

  I rolled my eyes, because Clutch may be a lot of things, but he was no cripple. He proved it during our sparring session in the towboat’s engine room. Even though his legs were weak, his upper body strength more than made up for it. I almost got in a high kick once, but he’d taken me down with him. I imagined it would always be that way: Clutch the master, me the student. He had too many more years of experience.

  After a day of doing little, as the sun began to set, we headed to the commons area in Barge Two to meet Jase for dinner. The area was already filled with people. I stepped into the line while Clutch spoke with Tyler. I looked for Jase, but he wasn’t at our usual spot on the floor yet.

  I grabbed a tray, and Vicki, Fox’s best cook, slid chunks of white meat onto my tray.

  My eyes narrowed. “Fish?”

  Vicki nodded. “They finished the nets this morning and fished off the south end of the island so the zeds wouldn’t see. Fish for everyone tonight!”

  I grinned. “Awesome.”

  Normally, the fishermen caught no more than a dozen fish using fishing poles. They figured the zeds rotting in the shallow waters scared them off. The livestock from the fire was being dehydrated for the winter, so we’d been living on canned meat, beans, and grain. As I worked my way through line, I noticed everyone was in a better mood. The fresh fish, the zeds starting to disappear, and the repairs to the Aurora relatively complete gave everyone hope.

  I sat down on the floor and dug into the fish.

  Jase sat down a minute later with his food. “What kind of fish is this?” he asked.

  I shrugged.

  “It’s catfish,” Frost said as he and Benji ate a few feet away from us. Diesel had his head buried in a bowl of dog kibble.

  The fish suddenly went down like a rock. “Catfish?”

  “Wait,” Jase said. “Isn’t catfish a bottom feeder?”

  “Yes, why?” Frost said.

  Jase’s eyes widened as he looked at me. “Didn’t anyone tell the cooks?”

  “Tell them what?” Frost asked.

  I dropped my fork. “Bottom feeders are tainted from feeding on zeds. Sorenson said they’d lost a crew member to bad catfish.”

  Frost grabbed Benji’s hand that held a fork full of white meat, but the boy had already cleaned much of his plate.

  “Maybe these fish are okay,” Jase said to the pair before giving me an oh-shit look.

  We jumped to our feet at the same time.

  “Where are you going?” Clutch asked as Jase and I ran past.

  “To warn Vicki,” Jase said.

  I took the stairs two at a time to reach the kitchen faster. Halfway up the second flight, a stomach cramp doubled me over.

  I felt Jase’s hand on my cheek. “Cash, are you okay?”

  I clenched my teeth as I grabbed my stomach. “Bad fish.”

  Chapter XVIII

  The day was a horrifying blur of dry heaves, chills, high fever, and bizarre dreams. All around me, people moaned and cried. They lay in bed, the slightest move causing them to retch.

  Jase and Clutch took turns at my bedside. They helped me and the others without rest. Since neither had eaten the catfish, they hadn’t gotten sick. They were in the minority. Thirty-three residents had eaten the tainted meat. They kept all of us in barge Number One and had opened the bay door to let in fresh air.

  By night, I finally regained some semblance of myself. I felt like I had one foot solidly in the grave, but I’d lived to see another day. Others weren’t so fortunate. I’d seen Mrs. Corrington covered with a sheet and carried out. What a miserable way to die.

  Clutch squeezed water from a rag into my mouth. The other healthy people, like Jase and him, constantly moved about, checking on the sick. Meanwhile, others filled in as scouts above deck to keep watch for the herds or any signs of trouble from the riverboat. Deb was the only person who hadn’t eaten the fish that Tyler wouldn’t allow to help. Her pregnancy had come to represent the hope of Camp Fox. Tyler didn’t want her around anything that could pose a risk to her pregnancy. After Tyler’s adamant orders, she’d reluctantly stayed in the crew quarters on the towboat.

  I rolled my head to see Jase still with Benji, who was up to eating crackers already. That kid had a cast iron stomach. If only I’d remembered to tell the cooks what Sorenson had said about the fish, then none of this would’ve happened. I felt so stupid, but was too weak to stay angry at myself. No one had remembered to tell the cooks. Jase blamed himself, and I’d seen Tyler’s face when he walked through. He blamed himself the hardest of all.

  Twenty-four hours later, I could finally hold down small amounts of water, and Clutch was relentless at sponging drops into my mouth every couple minutes.

  The poor man looked utterly exhausted, with dark circles and bags under his bloodshot eyes. I licked my chapped lips. Sometimes, a pessimistic devil sitting in my soul would make me wonder if all of this running and work was in vain, that all we were doing was delaying our inevitable doom.

  I lifted my fingers, though they weighed a ton, and touched his hand that was holding the rag. “You should get some rest.”

  “I’m fine,” he said rather tersely, making it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Can’t believe I ate catfish,” I said on an exhale.

  He shook his head and dribbled more water into my mouth. “You couldn’t have known.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “You’re going to get better,” he said. “You don’t give up. That’s why I brought you with me to my farm at the outbreak. I knew you were a fighter.”

  When I reopened my eyes, I saw Clutch watching me, taking his eyes off me only to soak the rag again. Sitting there, his broad shoulders cast a shadow over me. His quiet strength showed through his gaze. When he looked at me, I always knew I’d be safe.

  I grinned, weakly. “You’re an oak.”

  His confused expression tightened into a look of consternation. He pressed a hand against my forehead, and I treasured his touch.

  I needed him to know the truth. “I love you,” I said, but my words slurred. My eyes grew heavy.

  “What’s wrong?” Jase asked, sounding distant.

  “Get Doc. She’s got a fever.”

  “Mary Corrington had a fever right before—”

  “I know. Get Doc now.”

  GREED

  The Fifth Deadly Sin

  Chapter XIX

  Lucky for me, I was both younger and healthier than Mrs. Corrington. My fever of one-hundred-four broke the following morning, but it took me an entire day before I could stand without getting a nosebleed, and another day after that before I could handle a flight of stairs without getting light-headed.

  I woke up early in the morning, quietly climbed out of my bunk, and crept past Clutch. He’d been able to move down to the crew quarters once he had no longer needed his wheelchair. Being careful not to wake him, I grabbed my boots, clothes, and gear and headed up to the deck. I stopped in the shower room to finish dressing. Since the catfish incident, I’d lost a few pounds and had to buckle my belt a full notch tighter. Not that I’d had any fat on me before, which meant my body had burned through muscle, and, Christ, I was feeling it.

  That was just one of the little things that had changed after the outbreak: there simply weren’t overweight people anymore. Without proper food and medical care, things like food poisoning or dysentery
were even more dangerous than ever. Everyone who’d gotten sick from the catfish had a gaunt look. At least everyone who’d survived. We’d lost four to bad catfish.

  I took a seat on a bench and inhaled deeply the smell of fresh coffee as it finished brewing. Moments later, I poured myself a small cup and headed outside. I walked slowly so I wouldn’t slip on the deck still slick with frost. The coffee steamed, and my breath made small puffs in the morning air.

  I slurped the coffee, holding the warm cup in both hands, and tried not to shiver. The warm sun was rising, and its light glistened on the wet deck. I headed to my usual spot that overlooked the open river. A light morning fog blanketed the water. An eagle soared above the tree line. It was beautiful, serene. And the best part? No zeds. They’d finally moved off while I’d been sick.

  I really thought I wasn’t going to make it. I’d never felt so miserable in my life. Thankfully, I didn’t remember much of the past couple days. Only Clutch’s gentle touch and him never leaving my side.

  I set down my coffee and started my yoga routine. Sometime during Downward Facing Dog, Clutch bent over and looked at me.

  “Mornin’,” I said with a smile.

  He stood back up. “I called your name three times.”

  “You did? Oh. I guess I was in my zone.”

  “It’s good to see you getting back into a routine,” he said.

  As I changed position, I saw him looking out over the river.

  “I feel fine, other than the fact that my body thinks it was in bed for a month instead of days. I can promise you that I’d rather starve than eat catfish ever again.”

  “You had me worried there for a while,” Clutch said.

  I stopped and turned to find him watching me with a strange intensity, his eyes full of emotion. Then he quickly turned away. Disappointment panged in my heart. “Well, moving around in the fresh air and stretching has helped as much as anything. It’s nice that the zeds left so I can do yoga outside rather than in the dark, stuffy boat.”