by TW Brown
“Hang on,” Debra shouted as she stomped on the gas and wrenched the wheel hard into the turn.
Joel instantly regretted not being strapped into his seat as he fell hard into a stack of metal cases, his elbow connecting smartly, sending a burst of electric pain all the way to his fingertips. He pushed himself up and practically threw himself into the front passenger seat, his hands fumbling for the harness that would keep him secure.
“Those people are following us,” Will called in the headset.
“Now is not the time and here is not the place to pick up stragglers,” Joel said calmly. “Anybody we add to our numbers is going to need to be a fighter and capable.”
“How do we know these people aren’t?” Will asked.
“For one,” Debra spoke before Joel could answer, “they are running down the middle of the street being chased by a pack of zombies.”
“But…” Will let that thought die on his tongue.
“If they had any brains, they would be someplace secure. And if that location fell, they would have a fallback. Running down the middle of the street is a move of desperation. They aren’t making any attempt to elude, and they tried to wave us down the moment they saw us. They need saving. That isn’t our mission.” Joel glanced over at Debra and saw her nod in agreement. “Is that going to be a problem for you, Mister Barnes?”
“I guess not,” came the confused sounding reply. “So…do you want me to gun them down?”
“We aren’t animals,” Joel laughed coldly. “Besides, why would we waste good ammunition for a job the zombies will do for us?”
The Humvee rolled through the non-descript neighborhood. Most of the houses showed signs of being either looted or torched. There were dead bodies everywhere you looked. Most of them were shrouded by a cloud of insects. A few were being feasted on by birds.
Debra slammed on the brakes again, sending Joel jerking hard against the restraints. He was about to ask her what the hell she was doing when he saw it.
Standing in the middle of the road was a dog. Based on its appearance, Joel thought it had to be a lab. Its fur was a matted mess that hid whatever its original color had been. One ear dangled from the side of its head and swung just a bit as the pathetic creature lifted its head to regard the Humvee. It tilted its head one way then the other before apparently dismissing them and returning to the body sprawled at its feet.
Joel found himself just a few feet away without even realizing that he’d even exited the vehicle. The body on the ground made a soft whimpering sound and he looked down to see the face of a woman looking up at him with eyes that pleaded for him to end her pain. He drew the blade on his hip and quickly drove the point of it into the eye socket of the dog just as it looked up to regard him again.
The woman’s mouth opened and closed, but only a spray of blood managed to make its way out, dribbling down her chin and from both corners of her mouth. Her eyes flicked to the weapon in his hand and he saw her fear increase. Her head moved weakly back and forth.
“You want me to end the pain, don’t you?” he whispered. She nodded slightly. “Then just close your eyes and it will all be over in just a second.”
Again her eyes flicked to the blade. He saw tears start to leak from the corners, and again she gave the slightest shake of her head.
“Fine.” Joel shrugged his shoulders, turned, and walked away. As he walked away he heard a strangled cry.
“What the hell was that all about?” Debra asked as Joel climbed back into the Humvee.
“Fucking dog.” Joel strapped himself into place and then looked over at Debra when the vehicle hadn’t started forward again. “What?”
“What about the dog?” she asked hesitantly.
“It was one of those…things,” he spat.
“You’ve gotta be kidding.”
“Nope.”
“So we have to worry about animals and humans?”
“Looks that way,” Joel said with a shrug. “What’s the big deal?”
“Rats? Birds? Fucking bugs?” she practically yelled, her pitch rising with each word.
“Let’s not get hysterical.” Joel pointed forward. “How about you just drive for now and we worry about one thing at a time.”
The Humvee started forward with a jerk as Debra stomped on the gas. It was not lost on Joel that the woman swerved to run over both the woman dying in the street and the carcass of the dog he’d already ended.
They turned left on Alfalfa Street and then another right on East Reno Avenue. The deeper into the neighborhood they ventured, the worse things seemed to become. More of the undead began oozing from the shadows in their staggered and awkward gait.
Some of the houses had clusters of the undead gathered around. Many of those had various banners—usually made from bedsheets—hanging from one window or another. Huge letters announcing “Survivors Inside!” or just pleading “Help!”
On a few occasions, Joel was certain that he saw movement through one window or another. On one instance, one of those windows flew open and a person jutted from the opening waving arms frantically in an attempt to get their attention. If Debra or Will saw, they never acknowledged it. Joel simply dismissed it as unimportant.
They reached Pearl Street, and Joel instructed Debra to turn left. The Humvee swept wide around yet another collision and screeched to a halt. Up ahead was what looked at first like another defunct military roadblock. Joel saw the flash and winced when he heard the metallic ‘ting’ of rounds pinging off the exterior of the Humvee.
“Fuck,” he hissed when he saw the wide-mouthed barrel of the grenade launcher appear and rest across the hood of the burnt-out husk of a blackened SUV.
5
“I sentence you to the darkness.”
“What do you want me to do, boss?” Will’s voice crackled over the headset.
Joel heard the turret moving as he obviously lined up whatever shot he thought he might take. Joel cleared his mind for a moment and tried to assess the situation with a calm head. These people hadn’t fired the big guns yet, but it was obvious that they were packing at least some semblance of firepower. He made up his mind and unclipped his harness.
“Are you seriously getting out again?” Debra said out of the corner of her mouth like she might be afraid of being heard, or perhaps having her lips read. “This is becoming a bad habit of yours.”
Joel ignored her remarks and exited the Humvee, making a point of putting his hands in the air in that universal sign of surrender. He moved to the front of the idling vehicle and then very slowly dropped his hands, clasping them in front of himself. After a few seconds that began to feel like minutes, a lone individual emerged from behind the vehicle roadblock. He or she was dressed in what looked like riot gear and had what Joel identified as a military-issue M4 slung across their chest. He breathed an inner sigh of relief when the person set the weapon on the hood of one of the vehicles and took a few steps toward him. Joel reciprocated, and the two began a slow and cautious advance. Twice, there was the report of a rifle and an approaching zombie tottered and fell to the pavement with a meaty thud.
At last, Joel and the stranger were standing just a few feet apart. The person in the riot gear flipped up the helmet’s visor to reveal the face of a man who appeared to be in his early fifties. His gray hair peeked out from the edges and framed a weather-worn face that had seen its fair share of sunshine over the years. The man had piercing eyes that were a blue that verged on gray.
“Tim Wistrom,” the man said in a voice so quiet that Joel felt compelled to lean forward in order to hear.
“Joel Landon.”
“We seem to have a situation,” the man said with an easy smile as he leaned just a bit to get a look past Joel at the Humvee idling almost a block behind.
“Doesn’t really have to be anything.” Joel let that seep in, and then continued when it was clear that the stranger was not inclined to say more. “We are heading out of town. Figure the best thing to do right now i
s stake a claim to a place that is defensible and offers us enough seclusion from the main population while still making it feasible to return in order to make supply runs.”
“So then, you folks ain’t actual military?” the man asked, giving a nod to the Humvee.
“I’m retired, but the two others in the vehicle are both active.” Joel slapped himself in the forehead mentally as soon as that answer slipped from his mouth. He’d just given away vital information for free. And worse, he’d exposed his numbers.
“Well three of the people in my group were part of the last response team to put boots on the ground here in Vegas. The other five are civilians, but they seem to have their heads on straight.”
Joel nodded. He wondered if the person had simply reciprocated sharing information, or if perhaps he was trying to establish that his numbers were superior. Either way, he wasn’t inclined to continue standing around in the street having this conversation. It would be getting dark soon, and he wanted to at least be someplace defensible by the time it was full dark.
“You’re welcome to join us if you like.” Joel tried to sound uninterested in how his offer would be taken. “And if not, we just want to be on our way.”
“Give me a minute,” Tim said with a nod. He turned on his heel and jogged back to the roadblock.
Joel made a count of heads as people emerged to meet the man. He counted six people besides Tim. That meant two were staying out of sight. Smart move, he acknowledged. If he’d been honest in revealing their numbers, then they had the sense to keep what he imagined were designated snipers out of sight and on alert. A moment later, his suspicions were confirmed when the report of a rifle sounded and another zombie that was approaching the scene dropped lifelessly to the ground like a toy that had just had its power cut.
After a very short meeting, Tim turned and jogged back. “My people are amicable about us perhaps joining forces.”
“That’s all well and good, but before you make that decision, you might want to explain that we are not a rescue mission in the making.” He saw the man nod and decided to elaborate a little. “We are looking to set ourselves up not to simply survive, but to live. The world we knew is over. Most folks are going to cling to its decaying corpse for as long as possible. I plan to create my own little Utopia.”
Tim regarded Joel long enough that Joel thought he’d reconsidered. At last he spoke again, his voice barely a whisper, “We gonna become raiders?”
“Nothing quite so sinister,” Joel laughed and patted the man on the arm. “But we will take what we need, and if it means taking it from somebody else…well…that isn’t off the table.”
Tim glanced over his shoulder at his group that were now gathered on the other side of the roadblock—Joel marked that as the first mistake he’d noticed in the group. Trust was simply not something you could afford to be generous with in the current world environment. He would have a bit of work to do as he built what he was beginning to think of as his New World Army.
“I think the best plan for today would be to get someplace for the night and hunker down,” Joel said, putting an arm around Tim’s shoulder and walking with him towards the group clustered in front of the roadblock. He could almost feel Debra’s eyes boring into his back, and had to wonder if maybe now it wasn’t his turn to be making the stupid move.
“Folks, this is…” Tim turned back to Joel, his face just a little flushed with embarrassment. “I feel stupid. All the excitement and I went and forgot your name. Seems almost crazy to even be considering joining up with you when I can’t even recall your name.” He laughed uncomfortably.
Joel did a quick sweep of the people gathered around and saw at least two individuals who were less than impressed with developments. Or maybe they were simply not happy that their apparent spokesman, and possibly even their leader, could be so absent-minded.
“We gonna stand around here in the open like this much longer?” a woman snarled. “I thought we were taking cover in the Walgreens until tomorrow morning before blowing this popsicle stand.”
“I guess I will start the introductions with the always outspoken, Miss Hope Dalton,” Tim said with a wave of his hand to indicate the woman who’d just spoken.
The woman appeared in her early thirties with hair that was a shade of red that Joel knew did not grow naturally. Her blue eyes were squinted against the reflection of the sun off the side of a nearby building. She had rifles jutting over each shoulder and a hook-bladed weapon on her hip that looked like it’d seen a considerable amount of action. When her eyes met his, the corners of her eyes tightened and her lips pulled back in a bit of a sneer.
“We can do this when we get settled in for the evening, if you don’t mind.” Joel held up a hand, silencing Tim before he could continue. “And do you think something like a store that size is really the best choice for making camp tonight?”
“You got a better idea?” a man huffed, folding his arms across his chest.
Joel turned to see a dark skinned young man no older than his late teens glaring at him. This had been the person who had been aiming the grenade launcher at them. He held the weapon in his hands with the look of comfort that a person well trained on a weapon will possess. He was wearing a tee shirt advertising one of the casinos, but his pants were military fatigues, and his boots were definitely government issue.
“Yes,” Joel said flatly. “I believe I do have a better idea than a store that size. There are plenty of abandoned private residences. A few have sturdy fences around them, a few even have stone walls. We take one over for the night.”
“Not likely to find a lot of supplies for this many people in a single residence,” the dark-skinned man grumbled.
“We don’t need to top off supplies today,” Joel countered. “We hold up until morning and then make planned and organized assaults on locations that are likely to have vital supplies. But even then, we have to be mindful of where we plan to set up our base of operations. Space will be limited unless we find a large vehicle like a UPS truck to haul stuff.”
“I only got one question.” The young man swung his grenade launcher around so that it wasn’t exactly pointed at Joel, but it was certainly in his general direction. “Who named you leader?”
“Nobody. And I could give a flying fuck if you come along or not. I spoke with your man Tim here, let him know my intentions, and now me and my crew will be on our way. Come…don’t. I absolutely don’t care.”
Joel turned and started back toward the Humvee. He quickly dialed in Debra’s face and watched her expression. She would tell him everything he needed to know with her eyes. He fought the urge to touch any of his weapons, opting to hopefully put off an appearance of calm confidence.
Her eyes never found his, but instead continued to watch the people he had behind him. By the time he reached the door and opened it, he could feel a trickle of sweat roll down the middle of his back.
“Are you insane?” Debra whispered, barely moving her lips and keeping her eyes forward.
Joel climbed in and started fastening his seat harness and tugging on his headset. He barely had it on when he heard Will Barnes.
“Umm, what do we do here, chief?”
“Hold your fire,” Joel answered, assuming that the statement had been intended for him.
The group had all started climbing into the assorted vehicles used to block the road at this point. Joel kept his eyes on the one that Tim climbed into. It pulled away first and rolled his direction, coming to a stop beside the Humvee.
After unlocking the small window, Joel removed his headset and regarded Tim with raised eyebrows. The other vehicles were all falling in behind Tim’s, so whatever choice they’d made, it looked unanimous.
“We’re with you,” Tim shouted over the noise of the numerous engines.
“Okay, then let’s get off the streets and clear a location for the night.”
Joel turned to Debra and gave her a nod. She pulled forward without a word, but he saw her
jaw clench just a bit. He would ask her later what reservations she might hold, but there were a number of zombies staggering out into the street because of all the noise. Their conversation could wait.
It didn’t take long for them to locate a residence that would suit their needs perfectly. To Joel, the two-story house looked like it belonged to somebody who wished they had more money than they actually possessed. It was heavily landscaped with all sorts of fruit trees, fountains, and had the general appearance of being immaculate. Closer inspection, and being heavily involved in real estate made that one of Joel’s specialties, revealed that most of the work was cosmetic and little more than a coating of gloss over chipped tiles. The water features were not real rock, but poly-resin constructs. The wall was the giveaway. The iron work that topped it was pitted with rust that had been painted over an unknown number of times. Still, that wall would be enough to keep zombies out for the night.
Getting in was a simple matter and all the vehicles were parked along the front of the home. Sentries were posted and a rotation was quickly drawn up. Joel, Tim, Debra, and the young soldier, Malik Wyrick, took seats around the large dining room table and laid out plans for the next few days. Joel explained his goal of establishing a main base at the Hoover Dam.
“We need to move fast. If there are any workers still on site, we secure them. They will be the key,” Joel explained.
“Key to what?” Malik asked. His tone had started off challenging, but as the plans were explained, he’d quickly gotten on board. Now he was almost anxious.
“Power will be the key. This world is about to be thrown back into the dark ages,” Joel explained. “If we can secure that massive source of power and harness it for our consumption while simultaneously choking off the rest of the grid that feeds off it, we would quickly become the most powerful entity in this new world.”
“And we are agreed on the fact that we only bring in viable workers,” Debra repeated. “One of the biggest failures in our country was caring for all the wastes of life that couldn’t get off their ass and get a job.”