Zombies on the Rock (Book 2): The Viking Trail

by Carberry, Paul

  The sky was bright blue, the air was cold and crisp, and the breeze carried the scent of the ocean throughout the settlement. It was truly a paradise in this chaotic, rotting world. Most of the men had passed out.

  "Salute, Grennek." The aroma of fresh baked bread wafted out from the baker’s kitchen, Jarvik closed his eyes and let the pleasantness fill his nasal cavity.

  "Ah, brother Jarvik, you're certainly up early this fine morn." Grennek was taking fresh bread out of the old wooden oven. "Here for a fresh loaf?" He wore a white apron over his leather chest piece. The apron was coated in flour and grease.

  "Why yes, the smell carried me from my bed straight to your door." Jarvik admired the racks of bread when he noticed the young children churning butter at the back of the hut. They had giant smiles on their faces; they were enjoying their time with the Vikings. Anything would be a refuge from the hell outside these walls.

  "Fresh butter." Grennek snapped his fingers and the young boy rushed over with a dish full of butter.

  "Thanks, my boy." Jarvik ruffed up the kid’s dirty brown hair. His old winter jacket had burn marks over it -- the kid probably hung it too close to the hearth trying to dry it. The kid had his blue denim jeans tucked into a pair of rubber boots that were two sizes too big.

  "Do me a favour, Jarvik." Grennek wiped his hands in his grease stained apron. "Next time you head out, bring me back some chocolate. You won't regret it."

  "Anything I can do for you, brother." Jarvik bowed towards the baker before leaving the hut with the tasty treats. This was probably the best thing going in the whole living world, a Val Halla right here on earth. There was fresh food, bountiful game to hunt, and safety from the undead. What more could a man ask for in these perilous times? Walking back to his hut, Jarvik couldn't help but think that the gods had truly blessed them. Looking out across the water on this clear day, he could see the southern coast of Labrador. Something strange caught his eye: a cloud of dust visible from across the channel was spinning around. Scouring the coastline, Jarvik saw a convoy of vehicles rumbling down the road approaching the beachhead. Large trucks at the rear of the convoy towed boats; were these people planning on crossing the gulf and entering Newfoundland?

  The whole compound was empty. They had dissected each and every hiding spot throughout the entire set of buildings. Frank was ecstatic at the prospect of moving into the walled community: there were six living quarters, two extra large warehouses, and an underground bomb shelter. A large wind turbine provided electricity for the houses and a gigantic water tower rested in the middle of the settlement, providing fresh water for drinking and washing. It was a virtual paradise: everything they needed to survive was inside the enclosed walls. There was even plenty of field for crops and Frank was already picturing where he would build the chicken coop.

  "I told you they were gone." Garrett spread his arms out wide and spun around, showcasing the safe haven he provided them.

  Frank still didn't know how they would deal with the Pelleys once they got back, but for now he was going to set up camp inside. "Garrett, you're a life saver." Frank extended his hand; Garrett firmly shook his hand with a smile on his face.

  "So I guess we should decide who stays with who." Garrett eyed a giant log cabin. "That's Alfred Pelley's cabin, he built that nearly seventy years ago."

  Frank didn't miss Alfred Pelley, but he wasn't a crazed psychopath like his children had grown up to become. At least he practiced some decency within the community. Albert refused to sell drugs here on the West Coast, keeping the business strictly with the Central Biker Gang located in Grand Falls. When he passed away from congestive heart failure, his children instantly changed everything. Frank couldn't keep the flood of drugs from entering the West Coast, destroying the simplicity of his arrangement with Albert. "You can take that one for your group, you certainly earned it." Frank was feeling generous and having an aesthetic attractive house to live in wasn't a high priority for him.

  "If you insist." Garrett's smile was sly; Frank couldn't believe how easy it was to win the young man’s favour. "Would you like a tour of the famous log cabin?"

  Frank couldn't think of a reason not to take a little time alone with Garrett, it would be nice to get to know another strong member joining his community. "Sure, sounds like a plan."

  The two men walked towards the majestic log cabin. The roof was made from red sheet metal and the large logs were accented by red trim. The walls were made from hand cut oak trees -- the large logs must have been over seven feet in diameter with the bark stripped to expose the wooden flesh. The door was made from one large heavy cut of wood without windows. Walking through the entrance, the porch opened up into a wide-open parlour. A large window at the front of the room let light shine in over the expensive furniture. Everything was bought with filthy drug money, but it still made Frank jealous that his style of life never afforded him the same luxuries as the scumbag brothers. The rich, deep hardwood floor glowed with the sunlight.

  "You sure you're going to let me have this space?" Garret laughed heartily, running to the giant leather couch and jumping into the cushion and kicking his feet up.

  It was a beautiful place to live and the extravagant furniture would be bliss, but Frank was willing to give away this comfort if it meant gaining favour with Garrett. All of the survivors that had shown up with Garrett were strapping young men that could help protect the members of his community. "You deserve it."

  "It's a shame, Frank." Garrett snickered.

  "What is?" Frank was thrown off by the odd comment.

  BOOM BOOM BOOM

  Gunfire echoed outside the cabin, Frank ran through the door and into the clearing. Looking around for the source, Frank was expecting to see zombies shuffling through the gate they had left open. How could he be so foolish; at this point of the apocalypse it should have been a force of habit to seal the entrance. Frank's heart skipped a beat when he looked at the entrance to find the gate was closed, the corpses had no other way of getting inside the settlement. They had checked all of the houses before Frank had gone inside the cabin with Garrett, so what in God's name was going on?

  "Why can't I come with you?" Tina begged Warrant Smith. He was about to leave to negotiate with the biker gang's ringleader.

  "I wish you could, but I did manage to get you your own room. Just stay away from Ted until the discussions are over. I promise I'll take you with me and leave him here." Smith sounded sincere.

  "I don't trust the people here, I'm afraid they will let Ted get me. He swore he wouldn't let me leave." Tina didn't want to be left alone; the soldiers had managed to seclude her from Ted, but his children were still with him. The thought of leaving them with Ted made her sick to her stomach.

  "You'll be fine here, these people aren't part of the biker gang. They are just the town folk, they won't let anything happen to you." Smith opened the old courtroom doors and walked into the entryway. "We should be done in a few hours, I have Corporal Young watching over you."

  Corporal Young couldn't have been much older than nineteen. He stood stiffly in his combats, and his closely cropped black hair was covered in sweat. His moustache rested underneath his crooked nose, which had been broken at some point during his life.

  "Hello, you must be Ms. Caines, I presume?" A strange voice startled Tina.

  Tina turned around to find an elderly gentleman standing behind her. His long white hair disappeared into a flowing beard. He wore tiny wire-framed glasses that rested on his round nose and had a bright red complexion and puffy face that made his eyes look tiny. His beady, black eyes gazed at Tina, making her uncomfortable.

  "Sorry to be so bold, I am Mr. Willis, the local preacher." Mr. Willis voice was shaky and reminded Tina of Father Jon. He wore a red wool sweater and dress pants, and for some reason, Tina felt uneasy in his presence.

  "Can I help you?" Something wasn't right about this preacher, and her past experiences with Father Jon made her untrusting of this man of the cloth. She co
uldn't tell if he was smiling or smirking underneath his thick beard.

  "I am the chair person of the welcoming committee." He offered his hand to Tina, but she didn't reciprocate the gesture.

  "Oh, I'm not staying here long. I just need to wait for the warrant." Tina looked around for Corporal Young, but he had gotten lost in the crowd that had started to gather inside the courthouse.

  Tina could feel her chest caving in; she felt a panic attack coming on. "I’ll just wait here until they’re finished."

  "Let me show you around the town. I think you'll be impressed by all of the good things we've accomplished here." Father Willis pointed towards the exit.

  "I'm not interested, I'm just passing through." Tina wasn't impressed with her security detail -- he had already vanished.

  "I insist." Mr. Willis's tone changed, it was harsh and commanding. Holding the door open, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

  Tina tried to back away and vanish into the crowd, but she brought up solid in one of the bikers. The man placed his hand on Tina's shoulder and bent down to whisper into her ear, "I believe the man would like to show you around." He shoved Tina towards the exit.

  "Right this way, Tina, we have to go over the rules if you're going to be staying here." Mr. Willis voice returned to normal. The crowd in the courtroom was full of bikers and the townsfolk, and Tina could feel the eyes of the gang members watching her.

  "Where is Corporal Young?" Tina was starting to question the fate of her guard. Maybe he hadn't just wandered off. "Warrant Smi-!" Tina tried to scream, but Mr. Willis covered her face with his clammy hand.

  "Come along child, don't want to cause a scene your first day." Father Willis dragged Tina down over the court steps. She tried to fight with the man, but he was too powerful.

  Frank searched the compound frantically for the source of the gunfire, but wasn't able to locate the gunman. Frank looked back at the massive log cabin; Garrett was standing in the doorway with an odd smile on his face. Frank hauled out his old police issue revolver and pointed it in Garrett's direction, but Garrett had closed the door and disappeared inside before Frank was able to react. His broken ribs and sore muscles made the task painfully difficult.

  Frank's lungs burned as he ran towards the cabin, the broken bone rubbing against his flesh caused great discomfort and suppressed his breathing. Reaching the door, he found that it was locked and the solid wood would make kicking it down nearly impossible. Frank needed to find another way inside. He thought about shooting out the enormous living room window, but decided against it. The winter would be long and harsh, and a broken window would render the whole cabin useless.

  Running around the side of the cabin, Frank spotted another door around the back, but his vision was called to something else. Two large splatters of blood had stained the white siding of the next cabin with gore dripping onto the ground. Two pairs of shoes could be seen below the splotch and Frank couldn't fight the urge to see whom they belonged to. Stepping towards the two dead bodies, Frank stumbled across a startling discovery. Eddy and Louis had been shot in the chest, dark red holes oozing blood from their bodies. They had been shot in the back: the exit wounds were surrounded by shredded flesh and pieces of bone.

  "Oh my God," Frank muttered to himself, covering his mouth with his hand to keep from vomiting. Frank had been caught completely off guard by the sudden turn of events. "Nathaniel!" Frank yelled out, hoping that his old friend was still alive.

  "Lieutenant Byrnes, hands above your head." Garrett opened the back door, dragging Nathaniel behind him.

  Frank spun around, pointing the barrel of the gun at Garrett. "What's going on?"

  Garret used Doctor Winston as a human shield and held a butcher’s knife to his throat. "I suggest you drop your weapon." Frank didn't have any other choice; he knelt down and placed the revolver on the ground. "Now kick it over to me."

  Frank kicked the gun through the deep, frost covered grass. The revolver got caught up after only four feet. Garrett didn't look too impressed with Frank's effort. "Why are you doing this?"

  "I work for the Pelleys. They wanted me to take care of you so they took a little trip to Grand Falls while I got my hands dirty.” Garrett laughed manically.

  "What good will it do? It's not like I would arrest them now." A sharp pain radiated from Frank's lung, and his heart was thrashing around inside of his chest. He was afraid that the broken rip would rupture the wall of his heart.

  "I don't know why, Frank, I just know I need to keep the drugs flowing to the Central Bikers Gang. The Pelleys still control the drug trade and they have made a deal with the Coalition of Satan." Garrett pressed the knife into Nathaniel's throat, a tiny trickle of blood ran down his neck.

  "You don't have to kidnap us. We'll just leave, you'll never see us again." Frank begged for their lives. The Coalition was a ruthless group of mercenaries known for their brutality. The police stayed away from them and let them do their own thing.

  "It wouldn't matter to me, but they demanded evidence." Garrett's voice trailed off at the end of his sentence.

  Blood continued to spill down into the nape of Nathaniel's neck. Frank didn't have much time to decide what he was going to do before the gash got too deep, and, ironically enough, the only person capable of fixing a wound that serious was Doctor Winston. Kneeling down into the cold grass, the dampness soaked through Frank's pants, staring down at the ground not wanting to look into Garrett's eyes. "I surrender."

  "You don't have any other choice, now do you?" Garrett was mocking him.

  "Let Nathaniel go, he's no good to anyone dead." Frank looked up into Nathaniel's eyes. He looked like a frightened child.

  Garrett pulled the knife away from Doctor Winston's neck, a deep red slit left behind on his neck. "Now what good is this pussy to anybody?" Garrett pointed the blade towards Frank.

  "That's Doctor Winston, he is an excellent physician." Frank pleaded for his friend’s life, he didn't know if he could live with the loss of another friend because of his actions.

  "Really, you're a doctor?" Garrett knelt down close to Nathaniel, getting in his face. "Well, you just might be useful after all."

  Garrett pushed Nathaniel to the ground with tremendous force; the poor doctor wasn't much of a fighter. Without a group of people to protect him, Nathaniel wouldn't have survived for so long. He could barely take care of himself, let alone keep Ruth safe, but he did contribute to the wellbeing of the community. Frank needed Nathaniel not only for emotional support, but his skills were invaluable in this harsh world.

  "Get to your feet!" Garrett shouted at Nathaniel.

  Nathaniel slowly climbed to his feet, a look of horror on his face. Frank wanted to reach out to him, tell him that everything would work out in time. Frank just needed time to figure out a plan to outsmart the Pelleys. They weren't known for being intelligent, just ruthless and savage. A sudden sharp pain in Frank's stomach made him buckle over in pain.

  Looking down at the ground, heavy drops of blood fell to the grass below him. Before he knew what was going on, a pair of hands gripped him tightly by the shoulder. Garrett was laughing as he walked towards Frank, tossing the butcher’s knife back and forth between his hands.

  Placing his hands over his stomach, Frank pricked his hand on a blade protruding from his stomach. One of Garrett’s goons had shoved a hunting knife through Frank’s back, but that didn’t matter now. Frank looked down at his stomach to discover his large intestine was hanging outside of his belly. Dark, black blood flowed from the gash, while the yellowish white organ dangled by a thread and swung back and forth. Frank could feel an intense burning in his stomach, making him want to throw up and pass out.

  Kneeling down in front of Frank, Garrett looked at Frank with his piercing blue eyes. "Now to get that trophy the Pelleys wanted mounted on the wall before the rest of your group arrives."

  Garrett grabbed a handful of hair and yanked Frank's head up straight. The grip on his shoulder tightened and the pai
n made it unbearable for Frank to struggle against the vicious attack. Driving the butcher's blade into Frank's neck with a sickening thunk, crimson fluid sprayed out of the gaping wound. Hauling the blade out of the flesh and driving it back, Garrett hacked at Frank's neck over and over again. Blood sprayed everywhere, coating Garrett's coveralls.

  Nathaniel couldn't help but watch the savage beast as he cleaved Frank's head off. It took over ten blows before the head was completely detached from its previous owner. Garrett held it high for his friends to see; they had appeared out of thin air to watch the gruesome display. Two strangers had arrived during the commotion, each man dressed in a high priced suit.

  "What are you going to do with that, boss?" Chester called out to the elder man.

  A man with greying hair and white goatee led the way while a much younger man with jet black hair and a full beard followed closely behind. Nathaniel had never met them before, but he recognized them instantly. They looked identical to their father Alfred Pelley. Nathaniel had treated him several times for his heart condition that eventually led to his demise. Nathaniel remembered Alfred telling him his children's names: Tucker was the oldest child and Kyle the baby boy.

  Tucker strutted up to Garrett and snatched Frank's head out of his hand, planting a kiss on the blood soaked forehead. "Good work, Garrett, the meth lab will be up and running soon."

  "What do you plan on doing with that man's head?" Chester called out again.

  "Shut the fuck up, Chester." Tucker snarled at his lackey, and Chester cowered at his bark.

  Kyle disappeared into the log cabin without saying a word, and the door clanged shut behind him. Garrett walked over to Tucker and the two men shook hands. Tucker seemed pleased. They exchanged words in secret while Chester made his way over to Nathaniel.

  "Don't try anything stupid." Chester had a tire iron in his hand, clubbing it against his hand.