Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation

by Scott, Joshua Jared

  “Doesn’t bother me either. We are well fortified, better than ever. We are armed to the teeth, at least compared to anything random gangs or survivors could likely manage. Have them come. I would say to give a response frequency that they can use. We can get Harlan or someone else to set one of our receivers on that and let it run. That way if anyone does call back, we’ll know before they are knocking on our door.”

  “Have them approach the Black Hills from either the south along US-385 or to make contact before entering,” added Briana. “That will make it easier on our scouts, and that is the most direct route.”

  “Good point,” I confirmed. “Best to avoid accidents. Wouldn’t want anybody to get shot due to a mistake or because someone was startled.”

  “Will do,” said Major Briggs. “The supply craft flying in from Hawaii will begin broadcasting as well, and they are going to start blanketing the coastlines with pickup times and locations. Marines will clear landing zones a few hours in advance.”

  “I really don’t think anyone is living on the coast.” In fact, I was certain those were giant dead zones. The forays the military had been doing had yet to turn up any breathers. “You never know though. It might be better to park some small boats off the rivers and say that anyone nearby or inland should go to those and follow them to the ocean for pickup. Might have better results.”

  “I’ll extend that suggestion too.”

  From there the conversation turned to less exciting and more tedious topics, such as the need to exchange certain people for a time so they could train their counterparts in the other settlement. It was another thing we had neglected. Alan Myers would be happy. His oldest daughter, Carla, was an apprentice to a veterinarian in Yellowstone, and she would be one of those coming to help teach our people about proper medical care for the animals.

  Additionally, the sergeant gave us an update as to what was happening overseas. The United States remains the premier superpower. We might not have the population or economy, but we still possess the largest, most high tech, most intact military. American holdings were the coastal islands, Hawaii, and various other islands scattered around the globe. A formal claim to all of North and South America had also been made with no one complaining.

  The Russian Mongolian Alliance – this is my term; they haven’t formalized their agreement yet – was running strong with Siberia and the Urals holding most of the people. They had also issued a claim to all of the former Soviet Union, Mongolia, and Turkey. Russian troops have entered Constantinople, achieving something the Tsars desired ever since that great city fell to the Ottomans back in the fifteenth century. The Hagia Sophia was in the process of being restored with the current Patriarch of Moscow assuming the title of Patriarch of Constantinople. He was now the undisputed head of the Orthodox Church. The undisputed part is only because all the other patriarchs and most of the clergy were dead.

  The Caliphate issued a statement regarding this – gotta love radio communications – expressing in very straightforward terms that all of Turkey, including the city of Istanbul, their name for Constantinople, was Islamic territory and any infidel defiling these lands would be killed or enslaved. Such pleasant people.

  The British Swiss Alliance – again, there is not yet an official term for their cooperative agreement – followed suit by claiming all of Europe, aside from what was once Soviet territory and Turkey, along with every island in the Mediterranean and Black Seas, excluding those that clearly belonged to somebody else. They also took Iceland but issued no objections to the United States keeping Greenland. I was shocked at this. Shocked, I say. You’d think everyone would be fighting over Greenland.

  Japan seemed mostly content with their traditional islands. Their only other claim was for a few islands whose ownership had been in dispute for decades, in all cases with either China or Russia, and for a huge swath of the Pacific including all of Indonesia and Papua New Guinea. Russia didn’t bat an eye. They just said fine, take the damn things. The Chinese spent a few days bickering but gave in without too much griping.

  As to the newly rediscovered Chinese government, they wanted China proper along with the Koreas, all of Southeast Asia, the subcontinent, and Sri Lanka. China also claimed first right to the Middle East. Needless to say, the Caliphate was in a total uproar over that.

  This brings us to little Israel. Not wanting to be outdone, they claimed all of Syria, Lebanon, most of Jordan, and pretty much the entire Nile Valley. China amended their right to claim the Middle East, should they wish to do so, to exclude these areas. The Caliphate – yes, I am going to mention them yet again – reached a new crescendo of insanity. They reiterated, many, many times, that Israel was not a real nation and called for the extermination of the Jewish people, quoting the Quran as they did so, most specifically passages saying Jews had been turned into pigs and apes by Allah, stating that Jews were the most wicked people on Earth and the greatest of Islam’s enemies, and so on. I dug out an copy of this book, which we had recovered somewhere or other, to see for myself. Yep, it was all in there. So much for people saying the old conflict between the Palestinians and Israelis was over land. It was straight up religious, at least on the side of the Muslims. There was also a claim about meat only rotting due to Jews, which might have been from the Hadith – I couldn’t find an actual reference and lack any direct quotes, having gotten the information secondhand – and a second assertion, which was clearly a new one, saying that zombies not rotting was also their fault.

  Excluding the mental breakdown coming from the jihadists, you just have to love how fast and easy diplomacy can be when most of the world was shambling about trying to feast on the living. Actually, I think it was the elimination of the bureaucrats and trained diplomats that allowed things to get sorted so quickly. The vast tracts of land available and the fact that it would be centuries before the population was large enough to even begin to make use of it all had to help.

  For those paying attention, you may have noticed that a fair portion of the Earth has not been mentioned. If not, shame for failing geography. Australia and New Zealand were to be left alone for the next fifteen years at which time world leaders would meet to discuss what, if anything, should be done with them. The same was held for all of Africa, minus the large piece of Egypt claimed by Israel. Antarctica was decreed to be international territory, as before, and used solely for research.

  And while on this spree of treaties and agreements, the governments decided to ban all large scale fishing for the next forty years. At the moment this means nothing since the only fishing boats are little ones with similarly tiny nets. This more than covers everyone’s needs, but between prior overfishing and pollution killing off so much, it was a good idea. Four decades might be enough for nature to repair the damage on her own.

  Whaling was also addressed, due to the fact that a single animal can feed a coastal village for months. The old ban that most of the world honored was dropped. In its place is a catch limit. For Beluga whales, found in the Arctic and of interest only to Russia, it is fifty a year, growing to one hundred in the second decade, then one hundred fifty, and finally two hundred. Minke whales are at two hundred per nation, per year. Only Japan is likely to hunt them, and they are abundant and in no danger of going extinct. Finally, we have sperm whales. These are capped at fifty per year for each of the six nations / alliances. This does not include the Caliphate which did not participate in the talks. All other whales are to be left alone. Realistically, very few are likely to be taken, but for whatever reason the powers that be decided an actual treaty was necessary.

  One final bit of international news, the Caliphate is on the move. They have rounded up the majority of their people and are heading for Saudi Arabia. Women and children are largely going by ship with the men moving along the coast or cross country. It is a massive migration effort, and their goal appears to be the city of Mecca. I suppose they want to reclaim it, maybe as their capital.

  * * *

  The
following day, I met with Randall to discuss the ongoing stone house project. This was currently the item of greatest interest within our community and as such was also the source of most of the problems. Everyone wanted one of the new places, a perfectly understandable desire. Unfortunately, there was no way we could build them fast. Log cabins were quick and easy. An experienced team could erect the walls in less than a day. The roof and finishing work didn’t take much longer. Stone was more complicated. To begin with, we could only build when the weather was good. Once the temperature dropped, the curing of concrete was affected. Mind you, we could continue inside stuff, like laying floors, but that wasn’t the hard or time consuming part. It was the foundations, walls, and roofs that caused the difficulties, and those were dependent upon the seasons.

  “How much longer can you keep going?”

  Randall settled his huge bulk on a wood bench. It groaned beneath his weight, and I briefly wondered if it would break.

  “The first snow is usually in October,” he said. “By November we are solidly in winter. I think we are good through September with maybe a few weeks past that if lucky. I’ve set my schedule to ensure all the core construction is done before then. Nothing will be left half finished. I should have the last of the new families inside their homes sometime after Halloween.”

  “What’s the plan then? I know winter sucks, but if we can get anything done, we might as well.”

  “I’ll mark out the future construction sites, and I will spend some time considering a sewage system.”

  “Really?” That was a wonderful idea, and Briana would love it. “Can we do that, with what we have?”

  “I can dig down under the streets. With our layout we already have nice straight routes. I will require heavy equipment, which we currently do not have.” He paused. “It would be easier to relocate to Custer and repair their system.”

  “That won’t happen. We all like our valley too much to leave, and you have to admit that it is nice, even discounting the safety it presents.”

  “I am glad that everyone likes the valley wall I built, and I don’t mind the races kids have across the top. However, I’m not too fond of them trying to climb it, not at all a smart thing to do.”

  “Be fair. That only happened the two times, and Briana put an end to it by telling everyone that Lizzy got to punish those misbehaving.”

  He scowled at the mention of my longtime friend. The two worked well enough together but did not get along on a personal basis.

  “The citadel is pretty too,” I continued. “Give it twenty years, and that will be a photo spot for tourists coming in from the islands.”

  “I do good work,” he agreed. “As to the sewage system, I am envisioning a dual purpose sewer and storm drain. It will be for Baltis, the citadel, and Venusville. The farms will be left with ordinary septic tanks, although we can likely have real water pumped to them in a few years. I am going to build a wall around both Baltis and Venusville as well.”

  “A wall?” A quizzical look crossed my face. “Whatever for?”

  While we had originally considered putting a wall around the town, that plan had quickly been dropped as both redundant and unnecessary. The outer valley wall was tall and solid. If something was strong enough to get past that, it would surely overwhelm a perimeter wall around the town, which would be much longer and correspondingly harder to defend.

  “I want to mark the boundaries of both towns. You’re right, Jacob. We do have a nice valley. At present, most of it is either farms or open areas, and I want it to stay that way. Do you remember all the towns that used to be so picturesque and then turned into monstrosities?”

  I nodded. There was no shortage of that in the old world.

  “We have endless land to develop or reclaim,” continued Randall. “There is no need to ruin this place. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I want to put a wall around Venusville and Baltis to mark the town boundaries. That will prevent them from growing any larger. The farms will stay. The open areas where the horses wander and children play will stay as well.”

  “That’s a pretty good idea. I’m all for it, and Briana will be even more so. Trust me on that one. What sort of walls are we talking about, and how much will these detract from the houses. I hate to say it, but people will be really pissed if we delay getting them into nicer places without a good excuse.”

  Randall flipped through his binder before passing it to me. “I picture two feet thick, seven feet high, with openings scattered about, not just where roads go through. They are going to be ornamental. A circular road will run along the inside giving easy access to any point in the town. I can put large parks along the walls between them and the road, proper ones consisting of green space for families to enjoy. I may have this span the entire length with bike and jogging trails going around the town.”

  “Let’s do the latter, for Baltis at least. We can easily have a park that wraps around it, except where the citadel is located since the stone hill it’s sitting on will get in the way. We can put in more playgrounds, maybe some pavilions for picnics. There should definitely be bike and walking trails. However, Venusville is more of a militia base. That’s bound to change at some point, but because it is so much smaller, I would only put in a few things, maybe two or three small parks, and skip the trails altogether.”

  His huge head dipped slightly. “I’ll work on those changes and get some outlines and sketches to you later this year.”

  “Will this mess up our house construction? Not to be pushing, Randall, but I do need to know.”

  “Anything we do will subtract from that. We only have so much labor. It’s a zero sum game. But, it won’t be by much, and I think everyone will like the idea of more recreation areas, proper ones that are more than an open area between cabins. It will have to wait until spring. No way around that.”

  I wasn’t looking forward to the winter either. The last few had been harsh, and I saw nothing to indicate this one would be any better.

  “Anything else we can do in the meantime?”

  “Not really. I will have my people fixing whatever needs fixing. Otherwise they will be gathering building supplies, mostly stone, and sorting it by size and shape. It’s boring and dull.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Randall smiled. “Tedious and hard. Still, we will have plenty ready for when the snow melts and we can get back to work. Things can get moving sooner next year.”

  * * *

  One final event for this chapter of my ongoing, horrendous, sometimes boring, sometimes exciting tale of survival in the never ending zombie apocalypse. I was coming back from a meeting with Marcus concerning the need to get specific spare parts for the big rigs when I passed by the cabin Michael shared with his uncle. The teenager was outside with Mary. The two were talking softly; then he gave her a goodnight kiss. Mary pranced off, stopped once to wave, and hurried on toward the citadel and our house.

  The thought of jumping out of the shadows occurred to me, and I did feel an urge to embarrass them both. Shame on me. I really was getting a bit mean with my teasing. I didn’t do it. Instead, I let them enjoy the moment. I suppose I really am capable of repressing my intense desire for silly entertainment. Whatever. The two were behaving, and I do like Michael. They could continue their romance.

  You might ask how I knew they weren’t doing anything unacceptable. Well, keep on pondering that one. I am not about to share my secrets. They are mine and mine alone. Some things should never see the light of day. Certain tactics and strategies are not to be shared. Nope, I ain’t telling.

  Before continuing on my way I lifted a hand to Tara who returned the friendly gesture. Dale, who was on the opposite side of the road thirty yards away, lifted his night vision goggles and likewise acknowledged my presence.

  Interlude – Meredith’s Story

  Here’s a new one for my readers, who are most likely bored out of their minds. Sad to say, this short interlude is not going to quench your
thirst for bloodshed, violence, gore, brutality, or zombie mayhem. Instead, you will be lulled to sleep or possibly amused, depending on individual personality traits. Anyway, this is the abbreviated tale of Meredith, one of the multitude living beside us in Baltis. Born and raised in northern Colorado, she escaped with her two children, currently ages nine and eleven, into the wilds of Wyoming during the early days of the apocalypse. Her husband, unfortunately, was unable to accompany them, having fallen that first day.

  Traveling on foot, the trio eventually encountered one of the local ranchers. They were hungry, dehydrated, and close to collapse. All were having extreme difficulty walking, their feet covered with blisters and sores. Even so, Meredith had enough sense to shout out that she was not infected, that she and her babies needed help. Due to their awkward, unsteady gait, all sorts of unpleasantness might have resulted otherwise.

  They were taken to the fellow’s home so their injuries could be tended. A few days later, they were handed off to the newly formed Ranching Collective, a term coined by Mary to describe the loosely connected system of refugee camps and ranches in Central Wyoming. Meredith went on to survive the prophet’s invasion, being among the first to relocate to our settlement within the Nebraska National Forest. Likewise, she and her children were included in one of the early groups when we moved to the Black Hills.

  Since then she has lived quietly in the valley, adding a pair of adoptions to her family. These children are currently seven and twelve. Let’s pause and consider this for a moment. Meredith, a single mother, has four children. The youngest is seven. The oldest is twelve. All of them are boys. My heart goes out to her. Mind you, boys are way, way, super way less stress and worry than girls. However, that doesn’t mean they aren’t getting into all sorts of trouble, and I can say this with complete certainty because I have access to the disciplinary records.