The Complete Deadland Saga

by Rachel Aukes

  “I think a few more of my brain cells killed themselves,” Jase said.

  “Not to interrupt this fascinating conversation,” Hali said, “but, what happens next? Once we’re done with quarantine?”

  “Finally,” Griz said, “someone says something intelligent.”

  “Your quarantine will end at three p.m. tomorrow, once you each have a physical exam. Marco vouched for you, so Justin is bypassing your interviews. He said it’s clear you’re not bandits. I’ll give you a tour, and if you decide to stay, you will be assigned homes, and you’ll sign up for jobs. You may not get your first pick, but I can guarantee there’s something for everyone.”

  “Sounds fair enough,” I said. After all, the system mirrored what we’d had at Camp Fox.

  Charlie stirred the stockpot. “It’s almost curfew, and I need to get home to Sarah before she starts to worry. Whatever leftover soup you have will be your breakfast, and you can get drinking water from the sink. Any last thing before I head out?”

  No one needed anything, so Charlie left, and I heard the lock click in place. Griz went around and turned off all the lights except a small lamp. He turned and eyed Clutch. “What do you think?”

  “I think we’re safe here for the night. Tomorrow, we’ll see.”

  I could see Griz shrug in the faint light before he turned off the lamp, leaving us in darkness, with only moonlight from the window.

  Clutch went to lie on the floor. I tugged his arm, and he crawled into the small twin-sized bed next to me. I lay in his arms as I tried to clear my mind of nuclear bombs, zeds, and winter.

  “What about the zeds like Henry? What if they can recover?” Deb asked softly, to whom, I had no idea. “If they went with the herds to the south, they would’ve been killed too, along with other survivors, like us. What if we lived a couple states farther south?”

  When no one answered, I spent the next couple of hours pondering her questions until at some point my mind mercifully drifted off.

  * * *

  Charlie Martel and his wife, Sarah, made excellent tour guides. After cold soup for breakfast and a light lunch of applesauce and flatbread, the couple proudly granted our freedom from quarantine and led us outside.

  Charlie spoke. “If you decide to stay—”

  “And we hope you do,” Sarah interjected before handing out business cards to each of us. On the front read, Charles Martel, Chief Operating Officer, S&C Technologies. Scrawled across the back of each business card were handwritten numbers one through fourteen, but several numbers were already punched out.

  “These are your ration cards,” Charlie said. “Every Sunday, everyone gets ration cards. Each card has fourteen punches, which comes out to two meals per day. How you use those punches is completely up to you, but once they’re used up, you’re waiting until Sunday for your next card. Since this is Tuesday, we already took off what would’ve been the last two days’ worth of rations.”

  “How do we get new cards?” I asked.

  “You’ll take a job,” Charlie replied. “Everyone who takes a job gets a weekly card. Any exceptions must be approved by Justin.”

  “Rations are available in the general store. Over there.” Sarah pointed. “It’s about two blocks from your house.”

  Charlie added, “Justin has house number Twenty-Six set aside for you. Most survivors are assigned rooms in other houses. We try to fill up each house before starting with an empty one. But, Marco said you’d all prefer to stay in the same house if possible. Twenty-Six is a three-bedroom bungalow. But, it should fit ten of you fine.”

  “Ten?” Deb turned to Marco. “You’re staying with us?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “I used to stay in the squadron house number Three.” He sighed, “It doesn’t feel right now—”

  “I’m glad,” she said.

  “You’re one of us,” I added.

  He smiled. “Thanks.”

  “How about house keys?” Clutch asked.

  Sarah shrugged. “Sorry. We don’t have any keys. We only found keys in a couple houses. And, we don’t have the ability to make keys. So, pretty much all the houses remain unlocked, but I suppose you could put a chair against the door or something if it makes you feel safer.”

  “Hm,” Clutch replied.

  As we walked through the neighborhood, I observed how busy everyone seemed. Two men were pushing wheelbarrows full of food into the general store, where a short line had already formed. I was surprised at how normal everything seemed. One woman was pruning a rose bush. Two kids were on swings that creaked with every back-and-forth movement. Many of the houses reminded me of my small bungalow in Des Moines. Old, nothing fancy, and needing some TLC. Even before the outbreak, this town looked like it’d been struggling.

  “You can’t even tell any herds passed through this area,” I said.

  “Oh, they came through here, all right,” Charlie said. “It was the first time we had to use the missile silo. We stayed down there for a full week before we risked coming out.”

  “We quickly learned that the silo wasn’t ready for long-term occupation,” Sarah added. “Justin has doubled efforts to improve the structure and better equip the silo. Our goal is to have it ready by winter in case our power goes out or it’s as bad a winter as folks up north are saying it could be. Below ground would be much warmer and safer if we need to hibernate.”

  Charlie motioned to a woman covering a garden with leaves and mulch. “We’re expecting an early winter. Justin’s contact in the capital says they already have a foot of snow on the ground.”

  My eyes widened. “Where’s that?”

  “Saskatchewan. Canada, the northernmost parts of Mexico, and the U.S. have merged into one nation. They’re still working on names, laws, and all that, but we needed each other to survive.”

  “We’re Canadian now?” Jase asked.

  Charlie shrugged with a smile. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Hali added with a grin as she enunciated “about” as “aboot.”

  “I guess hockey is the new national pastime,” Griz added.

  “Well, the healthcare program can’t get any worse,” Clutch mumbled.

  We laughed, and Charlie ushered us along the tour.

  When we turned onto a street of small houses—most reminded me of the pillbox-style houses from the 1940s—Hali frowned. “Why do you cram everyone inside these small houses?”

  Charlie’s brows rose. “What do you mean?”

  “We drove by a new housing development a few miles back. Why don’t any of you stay there?”

  “Two reasons,” Charlie replied. “One, we only have enough resources to defend this two-square-mile area. We won’t leave any residents unprotected. And two, the missile silo is within the fence. It’s our fail-safe. In case of any emergency, all residents immediately evacuate to the silo.”

  “We practice twice per week,” Sarah added. “Every Tuesday and Thursday. We’ve gotten the entire population of four hundred and sixty four souls into the silo and sealed in nine minutes and twenty-eight seconds. Justin thinks we need to get it down to five minutes.”

  “Agreed,” Clutch said. “If the fences were breached, you could easily be overrun in under ten minutes. What are your backup plans?”

  Charlie frowned, and then shook his head. “The silo is it. We’ve been working non-stop at getting it back into shape. It hadn’t been used in forty years. A good part of it was full of water, and some of the floorboards had rusted through. We’ve got it dried out, and we store our food in there for winter. The government flew over and dropped seven pallets of food about three weeks ago, so we’re sitting pretty decent for the winter now.”

  “Let me guess,” Griz said. “That’s about the same time the bandits upped their game.”

  Sarah nodded. “Most of the bandits are hungry and scared, like us.”

  Charlie continued. “The difference is we got Justin and they got Hodge. Two leaders with very different ap
proaches. Under Hodge, they first tried to offer “protection” in exchange for access to the silo, but Justin saw right through their bully tactics and refused unless they became New Eden residents. A few joined right up, but it didn’t take Hodge long to make an example of anyone who tried to leave his group. Soon after, the assassination attempts on Justin started. According to the last assassin we questioned, they think if they kill Justin, the rest of us will fall in line.”

  They’re probably right, I thought to myself. Without Tyler and Clutch, Camp Fox would’ve crumpled against attacks. Though, in the end, their leadership hadn’t mattered. The Black Sheep had still managed to take nearly everything and everyone from us.

  Charlie led us to a small brick house. “This is Justin’s home and where most of New Eden business is handled. Come on in. Justin wanted to talk with you.”

  I was surprised that Justin lived in one of the smaller houses. There was nothing special about it. And, other than the New Eden flag hanging near the door, nothing indicated the house was different from any other down the street.

  “Why did you change the American flag?” I asked.

  “Justin figured it would be good to give New Eden a symbol. Since there’s no longer a United States, we were all born here and wanted to keep the stars and stripes. We voted on the eagle as a symbol of our strength, and we ended up with the New Eden flag. Who knows, maybe it’ll become the new state flag once all the dust settles.”

  As we filed through the door, I found Justin sitting at a large oak dining table. Two men sat next to him, both completely focused on the stacks of paper in front of them. A cat lay on a chair, seemingly oblivious to us.

  As soon as Justin caught sight of us, he stood. “How’s the tour going? I hope Charlie and Sarah are answering your questions.”

  “They did,” I said. “Thank you for the hospitality.”

  Justin smiled. “Oh, it’s not only to be nice. I’m hoping you all decide to become New Eden residents. We need all the people we can get. From renovating the silo, to managing the food and supplies, to securing the town and surrounding area, we’re extremely short-staffed.” He looked at Clutch and Griz before continuing. “Your experience would be invaluable here. Anyone with military experience served on our squadrons, and between the one we lost and the two the capital has taken control of, we have essentially no forces to scout, forage, and bring in survivors. We have a state trooper who runs our security forces behind the gates, and his teams have been running double-duty lately. So, you see how much I hope you decide to stay here with us.”

  “New Eden is a good place,” Marco added. “I’m proud to call it home. We work hard here, but that’s because we’re building from scratch.”

  “Thank you, Marco,” Justin said. “He’s right. I know New Eden can become a sanctuary for all as long as we work together to make that happen.”

  Pride seeped through his words, and I wondered if he hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew. “That’s a bit ambitious, don’t you think? How can you possibly support such large numbers of people?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I believe the only way we can rebuild is to move beyond surviving day-by-day. I believe we need a vision so we don’t get lost. Perhaps it’s a bit lofty, but I know we can get there. So, are you in to help rebuild the world?”

  Clutch spoke first. “We need some time to mull it over.”

  “Fair enough,” Justin replied. “You have probationary residency for two weeks. That should give you enough time to recuperate from your journey and get to know the folks and culture of New Eden. Then, you’ll either have to leave or pledge residency to New Eden.” He smiled. “And, I have no doubt you’ll all fit right in. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it seems that status meetings don’t stop for the apocalypse.”

  We were shuffled back outside in a small flock, where we stood in a circle in the front yard. "Why's a pledge so important? We never had people do that to stay with Camp Fox," Jase said. “It’s not like we’re applying for citizenship or something.”

  “You very well could be,” a man’s voice said from behind.

  I turned around to see a haggard old man approach. Unlike everyone else I’d seen, he looked like a beggar. As he approached, I wrinkled my nose. He also smelled like a beggar.

  “Come on, Romeo. Don’t scare them,” Marco said.

  The man muttered something and wandered off.

  “Romeo?” Hali asked.

  “A nickname,” Marco replied. “He’s harmless enough. Believe it or not, he was a successful businessman before the outbreak, but the stress screwed up his head. Sure, what he said could be true. The country we knew is gone. Who knows what will form out of the ashes. But, more important, Justin believes in the ceremony. He thinks the pledge helps people feel like they’re joining something special, like they made the A-Team.”

  “If we’re the A-Team, I’m B.A. Baracus then,” Jase said.

  “You don’t have nearly enough bling,” I said, pointing at the small gold cross he wore around his neck.

  Marco rolled his eyes. “I was talking about sports. You know, the A-Team, B-Team, and so on.”

  Jase waved him away. “I’m still B.A. If a beggar gets a nickname, I think I deserve one, too.”

  “That’s not how nicknames work,” I said. “You can’t pick your own. Take mine. Clutch came up with it the first day we met.”

  “How mushy,” Jase said drily before he held up his ration card. “I don’t know about you guys, but B.A. is hungry and going to get some food.”

  “Me, too,” Hali said, and several others then chimed in.

  “I’ll bring you through the line the first time,” Marco said. “It’s pretty easy, but there’s a process you follow.”

  Clutch held his ration card to Marco. “Grab me some chow. I want to walk around some more.”

  “I’ll go with you,” I said.

  “Count me in,” Griz added.

  Clutch nodded and turned to the others. “Be at the house before dark. That gives you about one hour to grab grub, give or take.”

  Both Jase and Hali gave matching salutes. Griz and I held out our ration cards, and I held onto mine before Jase took it. “No stealing rations, hungry man,” I said.

  He smirked before tugging it away. “B.A.’s no thief.”

  As the rest of our group headed off to the ration line, I called out, “Calling yourself B.A. isn’t going to make the name stick.”

  Whether Jase heard me or not, he didn’t acknowledge.

  I smiled. What an odd family we made. Even though I worried about each of them, I couldn’t imagine not having them around. “We’ve got it pretty good,” I said softly.

  “Yeah,” Clutch replied. “Now, let’s secure the house.”

  Griz nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  One hour later, we had gone through our new house from top to bottom. Someone had brought in enough mattresses for all of us, and I worked on setting up the bedrooms while Clutch and Griz talked through house security and escape plans. The house had only one bathroom for ten people. Rather than seeing that as a detriment, I squealed at the luxury. We’d gone months without electricity. Maybe Justin was right. To survive, we had to focus on something bigger than living day-by-day.

  As twilight settled in, Clutch and I sat on the front porch, sipping tea, and watched people return to their houses for the night. Other than lights in many windows and a pair of security guards who walked the streets, the town seemed empty.

  That was, until the howling started. This pack sounded bigger than the one that had surrounded us in Des Moines. I worriedly eyed Clutch.

  “The fences must keep them out,” he said and pointed to the security guards. “They don’t look worried.”

  We were a block in from the fences, but every now and then, I could see a dark shape move outside the fence. After several minutes, there was an electrical zap, followed by a yelp. After a couple more repetitions of the same sounds at different parts around
the town, Clutch frowned.

  “They’re searching for a weakness in the fence.”

  I shivered.

  Of all moments, Romeo came jogging down the street, yelling something that sounded like verses from the Bible. As he passed our house, he pointed toward the darkness outside the fence. “It’s a sign of the apocalypse. 666. The mark of the beast is now here. First we had wars, then we had the plague, and now the beast has arrived.”

  One of the security guards blocked Romeo’s path. “C’mon, Romeo. You know the rules. Get on home now. We need to keep things quiet at night.” The guard glanced our way. “No need to worry. Everything’s safe.”

  Romeo giggled and bolted around, and the two guards followed in what almost looked like a game of tag.

  After they disappeared around a corner, I turned back to Clutch. “Well, that was interesting.”

  “Yeah,” he replied softly.

  A cold wind blew through my coat, and I leaned into Clutch. He wrapped an arm around me, but after a moment, he bristled and pulled away.

  “You know, with the zeds gone, we might be safe here. We can start fresh. You can start fresh. You don’t need me anymore.”

  I looked at him and cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

  “This thing. Us.” He motioned from me to him. “It can’t work.”

  My brows rose. “Really?” My eyes narrowed, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why the hell not?”

  Clutch took in a deep breath and seemed to struggle to find words. Finally, in a rush, he spoke. “We both know you can do better than me. I’m no good for anyone. There’s something inside me that’s…broken. I was broke before all this happened. I’m not going to get better. This is who I am. I don’t want to bring you down with me.”

  “Do you have feelings for me?”

  “That’s not the point. It’s about what’s best for you. There’s something hollow inside, something I lost in Afghanistan. And, I never found it.”

  “So what? You have issues. Hell, we’ve all got issues. There’s not a single person left in this world who isn’t dealing with some fucked up shit in their heads. Sure, you were in the minority and had PTSD before the outbreak. But, by now, everyone has been pushed beyond their breaking points. None of us can be who we were before.”