As The World Dies | Book 4 | After Siege

by Frater, Rhiannon

  Bette stared at her bottle of beer, wiping away the condensation with her fingers. “She gave her life so that a bunch of us could make it here safely.”

  Again came the pinch of guilt. “I couldn’t save the people of my town, but I could give them final peace. They didn’t deserve to become those damn things.”

  “You did right by them. I respect you for doing that.”

  Nervously, Emma lowered her eyes at Monica’s comment and flexed her fingers around the beer resting on her thigh. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  Monica leaned forward and tapped her knee to get her attention. “Emma, we need heroes, but not another Jenni. She was one-of-a-kind. She was running from her demons and lived her life in a way I wouldn’t wish on anyone else. We’re not expecting you to be a second Jenni. We’re just glad you’re here to help us rebuild.”

  “Am I looking like a deer in headlights?” Emma asked with the nervous giggle.

  The other two women exchanged amused looks and grinned.

  “Maybe just a little,” Bette replied. “I mean, the whole Fort is talking about you killing an entire town of zombies. You’ve definitely been granted legendary hero is status right off the bat. We know that can be pretty intimidating.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. Everyone’s been great. It’s just they all keep staring at me.”

  Monica sneered at the hotel. “People around here are good, decent folk, but they can be a real pain in the ass. And speaking of pains in asses...”

  Juan appeared in Emma’s periphery, beer and chair in hand. He set the lawn chair next to Emma and collapsed onto the frayed blue and white plastic seat. Like Emma, he was dressed in fresh clothing and his curly hair was tucked behind his ears in a short ponytail. Taking a long swig of his beer, he leaned back in the chair, his long legs stretching out to nearly touch his cousin’s feet. Jack, the German Shepherd she’d met earlier in the day, settled down beneath his legs and yawned with contentment.

  “Kids in bed already?” Monica asked.

  Juan laughed, shaking his head. “Nah. I left them with my mom. They’re pretty hyper after being cooped up in the hotel room all this time. I’m going to be glad when we get those bodies cleared away so they can get some fresh air.”

  “Do you let them past the wall?” Emma glanced at him, curious. She had no idea what it was like to be a parent in the z-poc.

  “No. Absolutely not. But we do let them into the Main Street area to play and hang out with their friends. With all the corpses remaining outside the walls, I don’t want to take a chance with disease. There are a lot of bugs swarming the bodies.”

  “When are you clearing those out, cuz?”

  “Bulldozers tomorrow. After that, the powers that be say that we get a few days off to recover,” Juan replied. “Just going to keep the sentry and housekeeping shifts running.”

  “We do need a break,” Bette said, looking pleased.

  “Think those fuckers out there will give us one?” Monica waved toward the hills. “Gawddamn zombies.”

  “They’re on the move away from us,” Rune said, joining them. The biker set a lawn chair beside Emma and settled on it with a beer in both hands. His snowy white hair fell over one shoulder in a braid.

  “How do you know?” Monica asked.

  “I got word from one of my friends,” Rune answered.

  “Why didn’t this friend tell you about the runners?”

  “Because the friend only shares what it wants to share.”

  Staring intently at his beer, Juan said, “It’s not Jenni, right?”

  “No, compadre, it is not the loca.”

  Juan nodded and took a sip of his beer.

  Obviously curious, Bette leaned toward Rune. “So who? Anyone we know?”

  “Nah. It’s a ghost following the horde because his wife is a part of it. I knew him back in the day, old biker friend, so he dropped by to say hello before moving on after her.”

  “Ghosts stop by to say hello?” Emma scrunched up her face in disbelief. “Seriously?”

  Rune shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  “You’re a very interesting person, Rune.”

  “I can be. But most of the time I’m just ornery.”

  Emma wanted to ask him if he saw ghosts around her, but thought better of it. The older man stared at her with his keen blue eyes and she got the impression he was waiting for her to ask. She took another swig of beer and held her tongue.

  “Your ghost friends should be a little more helpful with the info,” Monica said, her tone a bit bitter. “Like why Eddie showed back up as a zombie.

  “The dead got their own agenda. I can’t make them do my bidding. Hell, I’m doing their bidding most of the time. If they don’t want to talk, I ain’t got nothing.”

  Flicking his gaze toward Rune, Juan straightened in his chair, the tension in his shoulders revealing his anxiousness. “So you don’t know about Ed, Belinda, and the others at all, right?”

  “Sorry. I ain’t got nothin’ on what happened to Old Ed. I wish I did. He was a good guy until he got a case of the stupids and took off.”

  Bette stared at her beer as though contemplating how much more to drink. “This is a weird, weird world.”

  The conversation lapsed into silence. Emma tilted her head so she could observe the night in all its brilliance. Despite the huge spotlights illuminating the area around the Fort, the stars were visible overhead. The vast firmament of the heavens was breathtaking. It had been a long time since she’d felt safe outside, longer still since she had last admired the stars. Back at the old Airstream she’d hidden inside its metal walls, too afraid to venture outside in the dark for fear of the undead. It was surreal to feel safe enough behind the high concrete walls to sit back and relax.

  “Shit! What’s that smell?” Monica abruptly exclaimed, covering her nose.

  Emma caught a whiff and choked. “Oh my God!”

  “Did a zombie get in the gates? Because damn!” Bette jumped to her feet and took a few steps back.

  “It’s not me!” Rune exclaimed defensively. “I’ve blasted some good ones, but that ain’t me!”

  Emma eyed the dog next to Juan. “I think he’s the guilty culprit.”

  Chuckling, Juan petted the dog’s head. “The kids gave Jack some macaroni and cheese. Not the best idea. Jack, those are some impressive dog farts.”

  It amused Emma to see a smidgen of guilt in the dog’s eyes. It didn’t last long, because the dog let out another one and gave everyone a big doggie grin.

  “Glad you’re here, Em?” The twinkle in Juan’s eye and smile were a little naughty, the tension from earlier draining out of him.

  Emma wasn’t sure he was talking about being in the range of the reek, or being at the Fort. Covering her nose and mouth with the collar of her shirt, she gave him a thumbs up.

  “Then we’re ending the day on a high note. And that I’ll drink to.”

  Juan tapped her bottle with his and winked.

  Again, she was reminded of just how handsome he was.

  Emma took another long swig to hide her blushing face and wide grin.

  It would be hours until she retired to her hotel room, happy with the promise of new possibilities.

  8

  Tamale Interrogation

  A knock on the door startled Emma from a deep slumber. The room was dark except for a line of bright sunlight peeking through a gap in the curtains. Her hand instantly closed on the pistol under the mattress and she rapidly rolled over beneath the covers, pointing at the trailer’s front door, only to discover she was aiming at a window. Disoriented, she flailed about until she located the actual door to the hotel room.

  Another knock.

  It took her a few seconds to remember that she was on the sixth floor of a tall building behind high concrete walls.

  Zombies wouldn’t be banging on the door.

  With a sigh of relief, she sagged back onto the pillows.

  A glance at the clock revealed it was earl
y afternoon. She’d slept close to fourteen hours straight.

  A third knock, this one a little harder, demanded to be answered.

  Sliding her legs out from under the comforter, Emma shivered. The air conditioner had made the room icebox cold. It would take some getting used to after the heat she’d endured in the trailer.

  A fourth knock, this one hard and sharp, sent a stabbing pain through her skull. She wasn’t hungover from the light beer. She’d only drunk one bottle, but she’d slept too long, resulting in a throbbing headache.

  “I’m coming!” she shouted at whoever was so impatient.

  Dragging on her new jeans, she zipped them as she padded over to the door. She combed her fingers through her hair and tugged her t-shirt down over her stomach. Stifling a yawn, she opened the door.

  An older Hispanic woman stood on her doorstep. Dark hair shot through with silver, she smiled brightly at Emma and presented her with a covered tray. “I brought you some food since you hadn’t come down to eat,” she announced.

  “Oh, thanks.” Emma’s stomach gurgled as the rich smell of Mexican food hit her.

  “Venison tamales, ranchero beans, and rice,” the woman ticked off, digging a diet soda out of the pocket of a cheery, colorful, flower-print apron.

  “I just realized how hungry I am. Thank you...uh...err...”

  “I’m Rosie, Juan’s mother. I run the kitchen.”

  “This smells amazing. Thank you.” Unsure of what to do next, Emma stood in the doorway.

  Rosie stepped into the room, brushing past her, and strode over to the small table near the window. Setting the soda down, she said, “Juan was worried when you didn’t come down for lunch and asked me to check on you. I needed to talk to you anyway, so I thought this was a good time to chat.”

  Clutching the tray, Emma followed, unsure of where this conversation was going. It had been obvious the previous day that Monica had clear intentions of matchmaking her with Juan. Though she found him attractive, she wasn’t too keen on people trying to push her into a relationship.

  Especially someone’s mother.

  She hoped that the conversation would steer in a different direction.

  “What do you need to talk to me about?” Emma asked cautiously.

  Rosie took one of the chairs at the table, forcing Emma to take the other. Reaching across the table, she plucked the cover off the tray revealing the warm, delicious food.

  “Since I run the kitchen, I interact with everyone in the Fort. I’m here to discuss your upcoming kitchen duty assignments.”

  “Kitchen duty, huh?” Emma cut into a tamale with the plastic fork tucked into a groove on the side of the tray. Fragrant steam rose from it, making her even hungrier. “So the women are still in the kitchen.”

  One of her major fights with Stan when they were together was how he’d expected her to do all the cooking and cleaning. She hoped the Fort was a bit more progressive in its running.

  “We all do it, including the men. Even when they argue and throw fits.” Rosie grinned, a triumphant look on her face. “Kitchen duty is required of everyone over the age of fifteen who is physically able. I like to find out what people’s culinary strengths are before I assign their duties. I ran the school cafeteria back in the day, so I have a lot of experience with running a kitchen that feeds this many people. Trust me. It’s like running my own small army.”

  “That seems fair. I learned the basics of cooking from my grandmother. I can do just about whatever you need as long as you give me a recipe. I can also make a killer peach cobbler from memory.”

  “That’s good! Ed’s old peach orchard is providing us with lots of fruit. I’ll make a note of that. Just so you know, Yolanda has put you on kitchen duty tomorrow. You’ve got today off to give you time to rest and settle in.”

  It made sense that she’d have to work for her room and board, so she had no complaints especially because they’d been kind enough to let her have a day to rest.

  “I appreciate the consideration.”

  “You made a good impression yesterday at the wall. Katarina told me that you’re a good shot, something we definitely need around here.”

  The woman was definitely friendly and her smile genuine, but her dark eyes were scrutinizing everything about Emma. She could feel it in her gut that the woman was sizing her up and evaluating her character.

  “My grandfather taught me to hunt when I was a kid.”

  “You mentioned your grandmother teaching you to cook. Did your grandparents help raise you?”

  “Actually, they raised me,” Emma answered, forking a piece of tamale into her mouth.

  Rosie waited patiently for her to finish chewing. Emma pondered not answering the unspoken question, but thought better of it. It was best to satisfy the curiosity of her new companions to avoid wild speculation.

  “My mother ran away from home when she was a teenager. She hated everything about the town, our family, our religion. She wanted to find herself. She ended up in a commune on the West Coast where she met my father. They connected on a ‘deep spiritual level,’ got pregnant, and decided they didn’t connect with me on a deep spiritual level. They dumped me off with my grandparents and left for a different commune somewhere in Costa Rica. I occasionally got postcards and birthday gifts from them until the zombie apocalypse.”

  The smile on Rosie’s face had faded during Emma’s story. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “Yeah, you did.” Emma cut into her remaining tamales with vigor with the side of her fork. “Everyone wants to know who I am. I mean, that’s normal, right? Especially now. Who am I? Who are my people? So, I’ll tell you. I got my freckles from my redneck Irish family, my killer cheekbones from a German grandfather, and a natural tan from my Lipan Apache heritage. I’m twenty-five, I was a single mother, my ex was a charming jerk who cheated on me, I was going to school to make a better life for myself and my son, and I was poor as shit. None of that mattered once the zombies came and killed my son.”

  “And then you killed an entire town of zombies.”

  “A small town.”

  “But a town,” Rosie said gently. “That’s impressive. It says you’re a resourceful young woman. Or that maybe you had help.”

  Emma was convinced she was under interrogation by the woman. Was she doing it on behalf of the Fort leaders or for herself? That was unclear, but Emma didn’t like it one bit.

  “My grandfather helped me until he died of a heart attack a few months after it all started. Stan died with my son on the first day. I’ve been alone. I didn’t run with any banditos or anything like that.”

  Rosie chuckled. “I think you’re misunderstanding me.”

  “You’re not trying to find out if I’m some criminal element?”

  “No. No. Nothing like that.”

  “Oh.” When Rosie didn’t expound, Emma considered the possible conclusions the woman could be drawing. “So you think I’m military?”

  “You don’t have that kind of bearing, so no.”

  “Then why all the questions?”

  “I watch out for my family.”

  “So you’re here about Juan?”

  Lifting her eyebrows, Rosie placed her elbows on the table and leaned toward Emma. “Why would I be here about him?”

  Emma wagged her fork at Rosie. “Maybe because your niece was giving off some serious matchmaker vibes yesterday.”

  Rosie snorted. “Monica is always trying to set people up. It’s her thing.”

  Pointedly taking another bite, Emma waited for Rosie to continue.

  “I have to wonder why didn’t you show up earlier to ask us for help.”

  Emma blotted her lips with a napkin and took a swig of diet soda. The beans had a spicy bite to them. “Two reasons. Number one: I wanted to put my son to rest. He disappeared on the first day and I eventually accepted that I wasn’t going to find him alive.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Rosie said, meaning it. “I can’t imagine what tha
t was like for you.”

  “I didn’t want him to be one of them.”

  Bobbing her head, Rosie said, “I would feel the same way. But you could have come here and asked for help, you know.”

  “That brings me to reason number two. I didn’t know the Fort was here.”

  That surprised Rosie. “Oh, I see. So how did you find out about us?”

  “Jenni.” Emma enjoyed Rosie’s shocked look.

  “Jenni is dead.”

  “I’m not lying. She told me to come here.”

  “Did she find you on one of her missions? Tell you we were here?”

  Emma shook her head. “No. She told me just a few nights ago.”

  “That can’t be. She’s dead.”

  “But not gone, right? Not completely.”

  Fingers fidgeting on the surface of the table, Rosie gave her short nod and discreetly crossed herself. “Tell me how she told you about us.”

  “I dreamed about her the night after I put Billy to rest. I didn’t know who she was, of course, but she showed up when I was passed out drunk after failing to work up the nerve to kill myself. She told me to come here.”

  “So how did you know it was Jenni?”

  “Juan’s son showed me her picture in the memorial garden after I arrived. I recognized her.”

  Muttering in Spanish, Rosie sat back sharply in her chair. “Troy told me Jenni told him in a dream that a nice lady was coming here and then you arrived.”

  Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Emma found it hard to believe that the woman in her dream had actually existed and told her to come to the Fort. Yet, it was the truth. “That dream about Jenni saved me. I didn’t want to live anymore. I lost everything in the apocalypse. I came here because...” Emma floundered, unsure of how to express emotions she couldn’t clearly define.

  “Because you didn’t want to be alone?”