The Complete Deadland Saga

by Rachel Aukes

  “Much obliged, ma’am,” Manny said. “Bill’s been riding my back ever since we pulled out of Marshall.”

  “I’m not surprised,” I said with a smirk. “And the name’s Cash.” I watched Manny for a moment. “What can you tell me about these herds? How are you so sure the zeds are moving south?”

  “A scout told us he’d followed the herd for fifty miles before he figured out they were heading straight south. One of our radio contacts in North Dakota noticed zeds all started walking the same direction about the same time the birds started migrating. We put two and two together and figured they’re migrating for the winter.”

  I shook my head. “The zeds around here aren’t showing any signs of migrating.”

  “You’re farther south. It’s warmer here, so they might not have gotten the itch yet. Or, maybe they’re just waiting to join up with other herds.”

  I thought for a moment. I dreaded seeing if this pair was telling the truth, but I also wasn’t going to be an ostrich with my head in the sand. If there was danger headed our way, we needed as much advance warning as possible. Flying was the safest and most efficient way to do that. I sighed, came to my feet, and grabbed my tray. “Well, if I’m going to do this, I better start my flight planning.” I turned to Bill. “Be at the park gate by sunrise. Don’t bring more than five pounds of gear with you. I like to keep the plane as light as possible when we head out.”

  “Here.” Bill handed me a piece of paper. “Here’s a map of the university.” He pointed to a long line. “Here’s where our pilot used to land.”

  As I pocketed the paper, Tyler gave me a smile. “Get some rest. I’ll try to catch you before you leave in the morning. If you leave in the morning, I mean.”

  “Good night.” I gave Tyler a slight smile before stepping back and then paused, thinking of another problem of being cooped up in a small, enclosed space with a newcomer. “Oh, and Bill? Be sure to wash up. You guys really stink.”

  Tyler’s smile widened into a big grin, and I couldn’t help but return his smile. I turned and headed toward the food table. After dumping off my tray and grabbing a bag of nuts and an apple for Clutch, I walked back to the cabin. My leg needed the exercise, and I needed the fresh air. Aside from the random raider and zed herd, life had returned to something that vaguely resembled normalcy. I tried not to show fear, but if Manny was right about huge herds headed this way, I was downright terrified. We couldn’t take out a single herd. How the hell could we defend the park against something ten thousand times the size of the herd we ran from today?

  By the time I reached the cabin, the sun had set. Jase was doing push-ups on the floor while Clutch was sprawled out on the bed sound asleep, with a bottle of pills still in his grip. For a moment, my stress disappeared. These two guys were my family now. Like so many other “families” of survivors in this new world, we were just as close as any real family, and I loved them no less than if we were related.

  Jase was a bit like the brother I’d never had, but he was more like a son I’d probably never have. He had a good heart. Even with all the shit he’d seen, there was still an unjaded piece left in his soul. I’d give my life for his in a heartbeat. He was a far better person than I was, and I was thankful that he came to Clutch’s farm that day many months ago…the day our family was born.

  The idea of a real-life son terrified me. I often thought back to the time Clutch and I had unprotected sex and was thankful that I hadn’t ended up pregnant. I shivered at the thought of having a tiny, defenseless, crying baby surrounded by zeds.

  Shaking the thought from my head, I walked over to the table, grabbed the stack of FAA sectional maps, and opened up the one for Minneapolis. I laid the map next to the hand-drawn map Bill had scrawled during dinner. On it, the buildings of the university were squares and rectangles, with a thick line drawn at the bottom indicating a road he was convinced would work as a landing strip. After lighting a candle, I scrutinized the sectional, circling every airport that had fuel along the route to Marshall and back. Taking off and landing wasn’t much of an issue anymore. Any stretch of road without power lines worked, especially since the planes I flew weren’t large by any means. I could feather the prop and land nearly silently. As long as no zeds were too close when I restarted for takeoff, I could be safely in the air before any got close.

  “I didn’t know you were doing a scouting run tomorrow,” Jase said without stopping.

  “We have a scouting run tomorrow. A long distance one,” I replied. “If Clutch is up to it. Tyler wants him on this run.”

  Jase rolled over. His brows rose. “Really? Where are we heading?”

  “The folks from Marshall said there might be some herds headed this way. I want to check that out. They seem to think zeds are migrating south for the winter. If that’s true, the more time we have to prepare, the better.”

  Jase’s guffawed. “Zeds migrating? Like geese?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose so. I thought it sounded pretty farfetched, too.”

  He simply gave a disbelieving shake of his head. “How big of herds are we talking about?”

  I thought about telling him what Manny had said, but decided Jase had enough bad things to dream about already. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

  Jase’s eyes narrowed. “They must be big for Tyler to want you to fly out that far.”

  I shrugged. “We head out at sunrise. This will be a top-off-the-fuel-tanks kind of mission. If we can, we’ll also check out the folks still holed up at the university in Marshall. Otherwise, we’ll at least try to do a bag drop.”

  “Cool.” He then nodded to Clutch. “He was out cold when I got home. I’m surprised he’s still asleep.”

  “Freeley was a bit rougher than we expected,” I said. “I think it banged him up a bit.”

  He frowned for a moment before his features softened. “He’ll feel better in no time.”

  I wished I had his confidence. While I knew Clutch would say he was feeling better, I also knew he would lie about his pain just to ride along. Clutch needed more time to heal, but he also needed to keep his spirit up. Being cooped up at the park was a constant numbing barrage against his spirit. I didn’t know how to find the balance, and so I took the easy way out and let Clutch decide.

  I circled another airport on the map. “Oh, and one of the newcomers will be riding along. He’s got a wife and daughter still at Marshall.”

  Jase gave a crooked smile. “We could leave early, leave him behind.”

  “Believe me, I’ve already considered it, but this guy really needs this. That’s another reason I need you along—to make sure he doesn’t go stupid while we’re up there.”

  “Won’t be the first time.”

  I snorted. Yeah, the Cessna now had duct tape covering a bullet hole in the fuselage from the last time we gave a newcomer a lift. “Get some sleep. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

  * * *

  Bill was waiting—practically prancing—when Clutch, Jase, and I arrived at the gate the following morning. As we approached in the small red truck, he waved and jogged to the edge of the gate.

  I gave him a full once-over. His hair was still damp, and he wore a fresh shirt. That he’d listened to me yesterday and cleaned himself up a bit gave me some confidence that he’d behave on this trip. “Morning,” I called out. “Are you ready to go?”

  He nodded with a smile, his eyebrows raised high. “You bet. Let’s go.” He lifted a small duffle. “I also brought some letters and things from the others.”

  “All right. Go ahead and climb in back.” I gestured behind me, where Clutch sat in his wheelchair against the big white portable fuel tank, sipping coffee in a thermos while he eyed the newcomer. Before the outbreak, Clutch had never touched caffeine. Ever since his concussion, he guzzled the stuff whenever he had a chance.

  As Jase drove us down the road, I craned my head out the window. Long wisps of white marred an otherwise clear sky. I leaned back in w
ith a sigh of relief. “Fingers crossed, it should hopefully be a smooth flight today.”

  “Good,” Jase drawled. “That last flight was not much fun. And by ‘not much fun,’ I mean it was pretty much the worst experience ever. ”

  I chuckled, remembering Jase’s face buried in a sick-sack thirty minutes into a two-hour scouting run. “Poor Jasen can’t handle bumpy air,” I cooed.

  He gave me a droll stare for a moment and then flipped me off, and I grinned even harder.

  Jase’s stomach couldn’t handle turbulence, but it was Clutch’s back that couldn’t risk any turbulence today. Over the past couple of months, Jase had filled in for Clutch on supply runs, and he’d become my co-pilot. He was no longer the kid who’d come to Clutch’s farm—bloody and carrying his dying dog—six months ago. He’d only turned sixteen last week, but, aside from a youthful face, no one would ever mistake Jase for still being a boy.

  In his eyes, anyone could see that he’d suffered more than most. Not many had to kill their own father like Jase had. Many would’ve been broken. Not Jase. He’d become the consummate survivor. He was the best of all of us. He did what it took to survive, yet he somehow managed to retain his humanity, something I felt like I had to fight to hold onto. Whether fighting zeds or on scouting runs, I easily trusted him as much as I trusted Clutch and Tyler.

  I also hated bringing him into danger. I wanted to keep him safe behind the park’s gates. Every time he left the park, some place deep within my heart panged with dread. A part of me craved to lock him in the cabin, but I knew that would be a disservice to him. He needed to learn how to survive on his own, and protecting him would only hurt him.

  Still, it was hard.

  Jase brought the truck around a curve in the road, bringing into sight the Cessna 172 and shot-up Piper Cub sitting in the small parking lot of a rest area, both ready to go at a moment’s notice. For most of my scouting trips, I took the slower Cub. For today’s long trip, I needed the speed and distance the Cessna offered, even though the 172 could in no way be called a fast airplane.

  I kept the planes as close to the park as possible. It made sense given we kept the area around the park clear of zeds, and I felt safer knowing I could be in the air in less than five minutes in case shit hit the park. Jase parked on the edge of the road, and I stepped out. The air was cool and damp, and the early morning sun caused the dew to glisten on the Cessna’s wings.

  Bill jumped down and stared at the plane. “You take off on this road? Isn’t that dangerous with all these trees?”

  “Nah,” I said. “It’s a lot less dangerous than the airport.” I headed to the back of the truck and dropped the lift gate. Clutch casually screwed the cap on his steaming thermos and slid it into the bag on his wheelchair. After twelve or so hours of rest, Clutch’s pain had receded, and his mood had improved. His face seemed lighter this morning, and I knew he was eager for his first flight with me. I pulled two two-by-sixes out and made a ramp against the truck.

  “The airport is close to Chow Town,” Jase said, walking past us. “So the risk of zeds getting in our way on takeoff or landing is a lot higher. This road is straight and close to the park. Besides, it’s not like we have to worry about traffic.”

  Clutch wheeled his chair down the primitive ramp, and we headed for the Cessna 172. “The weather looks good today,” he said.

  I looked out to the sky another time. “Yeah. It’s great flying weather.” I went down on a knee and began removing the tie-downs.

  “Don’t you have to land at an airport to get fuel?” Bill asked from behind me.

  Once I tugged the first rope from the plane, I moved onto the next. “No. We truck the av-gas in.” I pointed to the pickup truck we’d arrived in. “You see that white tank on the back of the truck?”

  He looked and then frowned. “That’s for the airplanes? I thought it was an extra tank for the truck.”

  I shook my head. “We have a full-sized gas truck for all of our cars and trucks. We use that tank just for the airplanes.” We’d found the fuel tank on the back of some farmer’s truck. We’d cleaned out the tank and filled it with aviation fuel at the airport. “It works pretty good,” I tacked on before glancing over to see Jase helping Clutch get into the front seat. I looked back at Bill. “We’ll be taking off soon. We’ll be in the air for a few hours, so if you need to hit the bathroom, this is your last chance.”

  “It’s okay. I’m ready to go.” Bill wrung his hands and headed toward Jase.

  “Jase can help get you strapped in,” I said and walked my preflight checklist. After I made a final circle around the plane, I headed for the cockpit.

  “We’re all set. Clutch is up front since it would be too much of a hassle to put him in the backseat,” Jase said as he held the door open.

  “That makes sense,” I said. “I guess it’s time, then.” While Jase stood off to the side of the plane, I climbed into the front left seat of the small four-seater.

  In the seat next to mine, Clutch was busy stashing his backpack under his seat.

  Bill was strapped in the seat behind Clutch and already had a headset on. I set my spear and rifle alongside Clutch’s Blaser rifle between our seats, and buckled into the pilot’s seat.

  I smiled at Clutch strapped in next to me. “Our first flight together.”

  He nodded and for the first time in months, a genuine smile emerged. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”

  “Jase is my usual co-pilot. But since you’re riding shotgun, you want to be my navigator on this run?”

  “Sure.” A sense of purpose spanned his features. “Do you have a map?”

  A smile crept up my cheeks. “It’s good to have you back,” I said quietly as I pulled out the sectional maps I’d marked up last night and handed them to him.

  He watched me for a moment, and the tiniest hint of a smile curled his lips. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, choosing instead to say nothing.

  “All right,” I said with a sigh. I pointed to black circle that marked the park and moved my finger an inch or so. “We’re about here right now and our flight path is that penciled line there. We’ll be on a heading of zero-one-zero. The map continues on this side.” I flipped the large sheet over.

  “I’m a Ranger,” he replied with a smirk. “I’ve read a map once or twice.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “I guess you have.” After a moment, I grabbed a pen from my pocket and handed it to him. “We need to mark down every large herd we fly over. Be careful to mark down their current locations. If you can see any kind of path they’ve trampled, try to note their trajectory, if you can. Hopefully, we’ll be able to figure out if any herds will come near the park or if we’re in the clear. If any are headed our way, I think Tyler’s counting on you to help figure out some kind of response plan.”

  “I figured as much,” he said, his smile fading.

  “I’m still hoping Manny was exaggerating, and there aren’t any big herds headed this direction.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” Clutch said quietly.

  This morning, while we were at the stream, I’d brought Clutch and Jase up to speed on everything Manny had said. But, it wasn’t until Jase had left to grab the truck that I’d told Clutch just how large the herds were reported to me. I swallowed and gave a tight nod before going through my pre-startup checks. Satisfied, I looked outside to Jase who was busy keeping an eye out for zeds. “Clear,” I called out. I turned the prop on the engine and it came to life. The magnetos were starting to run rough. Unfortunately, I knew nothing about the mechanics of an airplane besides the most basic items, and neither did anyone at the park. There were two guys who maintained the Humvees, and they were doing their best to keep the plane in shape as much as their knowledge would allow. If the FAA still existed, they would’ve grounded this operation months ago. As it stood, it was just a matter of time before I’d have to find a new airplane for transporting cargo and going on longer scouting trips like today’s.


  Once the engine warmed up, I taxied the plane onto the road and ran through my pre-takeoff checks. It took a few minutes to tame the coughing engine by leaning the mixture and playing with the throttle. Once everything was in the green, I motioned to Jase who, after one final three-sixty, ran over and squeezed inside behind me. Takeoff was the most dangerous part of the flight. There was no way to mask engine noise and full throttle, and even though any zed that neared the park was quickly dispatched, more zeds showed up all the time.

  As Jase buckled in, I put on my headset. While there was no use for headsets to communicate with control towers or traffic, they did make it easier to talk with the passengers and to report in to Tyler when we were returning from scouting trips so he could make sure the runway was cleared for landing. To not draw zeds to the area, I liked to fly straight in and with the throttle pulled back to keep my landing as quiet as possible.

  “Everyone ready for takeoff?” I asked.

  Clutch nodded. “Ready.”

  I looked to the backseat.

  “I’m ready,” Bill said, his voice coming through loud and clear through my headset.

  Jase was still adjusting his boom. “Let’s rock and roll,” he said.

  I smirked and then turned my focus onto the road in front of me. I pushed the throttle full forward, and the plane rolled ahead, slowly at first, and then passing each yellow divided highway line faster and faster. I tugged back on the yoke, and the plane lifted off the ground gently, the smoothness of the air instead of tires against rough concrete was the only sense of transition from the ground to the sky. As the plane climbed, I turned toward north on my compass heading.

  I set the stopwatch taped on the panel, a backup to help remind me how much fuel I had remaining. I looked at Clutch. “While you look for herds, keep an eye out for landmarks and let me know if we start to veer off our flight path.”

  “Got it,” he replied, all business.

  “If I have to ride backseat, I call dibs on the music,” Jase said, and I found an iPod dropped onto my lap.