Dead Hearts (Book 1): Morbid Hearts

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  Sarge’s eyes narrowed to slits. He blew smoke in Lieutenant Habit’s direction and smiled when the officer coughed. “Anything else you need, sir? A drink, perhaps?”

  Habit looked away. Highbrow cringed when Sarge glared at him.

  “Take Highbrow with you. I don’t care.” Sarge seethed a wide grin. “As far as I’m concerned you’re no better than your old man. I wonder if the Senator is still in his cell, gnawing on his own fingers by now.”

  “Aw, you hit a nerve Sarge,” said Destry, kicking dirt at Highbrow. “Was your daddy a criminal, Highbrow? Did he steal money from the government and get caught? How did your mommy take the news? Bet she was lonely at night without him.”

  Highbrow was ready to share his mind on the subject, but remained silent. If he let his angry words fly now, he’d never make it to the brig. Sarge and Destry would love to beat him to death, and he knew Lieutenant Habit could not to stop them both. Fortunately, Hawker, the personal driver for Lieutenant Habit joined them. He was a thick and powerful soldier, with a hard jaw and buzz cut to complete the portrait. Hawker was one man Sarge and Destry feared and dared not cross.

  “Chief,” said Hawker, nodding at Lieutenant Habit. “Time to roll.”

  “Highbrow, take the prisoners and walk ahead of us a bit.” said Habit. “I need a word in private with Sarge and the Lieutenant. We’ll pick you up shortly. Walk it off, son. It’ll be okay.”

  Hawker helped the girl to her feet, and then pulled the biker up by his arm. No one said a word until the three had walked beyond earshot. It was Hawker, not Lieutenant Habit that tore into Sarge and Destry. It took all the discipline Highbrow could muster to keep from turning around.

  “You did good, son,” said the prisoner.

  They walked ahead, enjoying the sunset like they were old friends. Highbrow turned his head and took a good look at the biker. The man rivaled Hawker in size and was probably the toughest badass on the road in his heyday. His leather jacket was old, beat up, and torn, as were his skull-printed T-shirt and heavy black boots. But it was the kindness in his deep-set eyes that caught Highbrow’s interest.

  “Thanks,” said Highbrow. “I wanted to say something. My dad was a criminal. I don’t care about him, but they had no right to talk about my mom like that.”

  Highbrow ignored the soldiers at the generator shack who were watching as he walked past with the prisoners. The moon was rising over the mountains, casting a silver light among the pines. Though it wouldn’t be difficult, he felt the scavengers would not try to escape.

  “Did you come in with Logan? Are you his scouts?”

  “I guess you could call us that,” said the man. “We got separated when my bike got a flat tire. The two of us walked a few miles before we reached the fence. Zombies were trailing us, so I took a chance and tested the fence. The electricity was out, so we cut through. Your Sarge was waiting for us on the other side.”

  “I’m sorry for how they treated you,” said Highbrow. “Lieutenant Habit is a good officer. If he’d been there when you were captured, he wouldn’t have let them hurt you.”

  The biker studied Highbrow. The girl was shy and terrified, keeping her eyes to the ground.

  “I don’t think your Sarge is dealing with a full deck. No matter what your father did, he had no right to say those things. Some of us appreciated what your father did. He saved two national forests and I lost count of how many endangered species he protected.”

  “My dad was an okay guy, I guess,” said Highbrow. “He had me going to private schools my whole life until I got a scholarship to the Academy. A month later, he was in jail. After the Scourge broke out, I never heard from him again.” He paused. “We’re not all like the Sarge and Destry. Habit’s a good man.”

  “But weak,” said the biker. “Booze has that effect on the best of men.”

  Highbrow smiled when the girl moved closer to him. He noticed she was shivering. Thinking himself an idiot for not realizing the obvious sooner, Highbrow removed his coat and put it around her shoulders.

  “It’s cold,” said Highbrow. “You should be wearing pants and boots, not a dress and sandals. There’s poison ivy everywhere. We’ll find you something warmer at Base Camp.”

  “Thank you. By the way, I’m Savannah and this is Nomad.” The call of an owl demanded silence in the dark, if only for a moment. When she spoke again, Savannah’s voice quivered. “There aren’t many nice people left in the world. I hoped we would find a home here, but I was wrong.”

  “No crying,” said Nomad, his signature gruff tone mixed with compassion. “You’re hurting, dear, and we’re both hungry and cold, but you can’t put Highbrow in the middle of our problems. Tears aren’t going to do you any good here.”

  “He gave me his coat.” Savannah held back a sob. “That was nice.”

  Highbrow held the girl’s arm as they walked. “Look, I’m not all that nice. I’m just doing my job. I want to help though. Earlier today, I heard two people on the radio. Logan and Marge. I’m sure you know them. They’re here, and Hank is stuck on the highway. Denver is a bad place to be. No one goes there.”

  “There’re around two hundred of us,” said Savannah. “It was twice that number when we joined Logan. It’s hard on the road. I sometimes think it’s easier when you travel in smaller groups. It was simpler when it was just me, Nomad, Sturgis, and their bike gang.”

  “It wasn’t a gang,” said Nomad. “We just ride together.”

  “Logan needs to get in contact with the Captain,” said Highbrow. “We have strict rules here. That many people showing up at once is dangerous, and we’ve had trouble in the past. Not everyone who tries to reach the Peak has good intentions. You’re lucky Sarge didn’t shoot you on sight.”

  “We’re not the enemy, son. We’re just trying to survive.”

  Not knowing where to wait for the lieutenant, Highbrow kept walking until they came to the bottom of the hill, reaching the highway. A patrol vehicle was parked across the street, with two soldiers engaged in a casual smoke beside it. Highbrow had his .44, but he wished the soldiers were paying attention. If zombies or scavengers ambushed them, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “You guys doing okay?” Highbrow called out. “Seen anything, or anyone?”

  “Nothing you need worry about, kid,” shouted one soldier. He tossed his cigarette and pointed his rifle at Nomad. “Where are you going with those prisoners? You plan on walking to the Peak?”

  “Lieutenant Habit is picking us up here. He told me to walk the prisoners and wait for him.” Highbrow pulled the girl closer to him.

  Nomad chuckled.

  “Quiet,” he hushed. “I don’t want any trouble here.” Nomad fell silent.

  “You stay put until your ride gets here.” The other soldier trained his gun on the prisoners. “Why are you walking around without a weapon? You want one, boy?” He held his out. “Come get one.”

  “You need it more than I do,” said Highbrow, as he scanned the road.

  A wanderer straggled toward them in the middle of the street. Four more zombies stumbled from the tree line, sniffing like hounds. Catching the odor of the living, the zombies advanced toward their position.

  “We have company,” shouted Highbrow. “Are you going to shoot them or just stand there?”

  The soldiers looked both ways, but didn’t fire.

  “Untie me and give me a rock, son,” Nomad insisted. “I’ll do it.”

  Highbrow tensed as his hand dropped to his gun. “I’m armed. I don’t want them to know it. Teenagers aren’t supposed to carry weapons.”

  “That’s a dumb rule.” Nomad rolled his eyes.

  When the zombies were close, the soldiers shot and dropped the lot of them with only a few rounds. Nomad gave a husky laugh. Highbrow put his arm around Savannah and held her close. He embraced her until he heard a Jeep speeding in their direction, and turned to watch it navigate the rocky road toward them.

  When Habit’s Jeep came to a halt, Highb
row helped Savannah into the passenger seat. Hawker wore his beret low over his eyes and watched in silence as the senator’s son adjusted his coat over the girl’s shoulders. Highbrow opened the door and helped Nomad into the back. Cramped, he knelt on the floor between the two men. As the driver pulled out onto the main road, the girl turned and smiled at Highbrow. Her smile faded when the soldiers fired extra rounds into the lifeless zombies for fun.

  “I’m glad to see you armed, Highbrow,” noted Lieutenant Habit. “If anyone asks, you tell them I approved it. That’s an order.” He removed his beret to rub his bald head. “If we get through the next few days alive, I will recommend to the Captain that he enlists you in the Freedom Army. You’re a year shy, but you handled yourself well this evening. Your prisoners didn’t attempt to escape. They felt safe with you and that speaks to your character. You’re reliable and honest.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I’m sorry about what Sarge and Destry said about you and your parents.”

  “We took care of things.” Hawker laughed to himself.

  Nomad coughed. “Sorry to interrupt, but we didn’t come alone. There’re about two hundred of us, and we’re not a problem. Look, all we want is safe place to stay for a while. It sounds like you could use our help. We can help you defend this place.”

  “We can handle it, but I appreciate the information,” said Habit. “Our force is well armed, but it might help if you talked to the Captain. Can you speak for your people?”

  “Not officially, but I know Logan. He’s a good guy. Folks have been talking about coming to the Peak for months. It’s the only safe place left in this region of the country. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. If it would help, I’d be glad to talk to your Captain and explain things.”

  “Good,” said Habit. “I’ll see if we can work something out when we reach the Peak.”

  “Diplomacy isn’t something your Sarge is familiar with.” Nomad rubbed his sore jaw. “He packs quite a punch, and I wasn’t the only one he knocked around.”

  The Jeep turned a sharp corner and started up another wooded hill. Houses, silent and ruinous, were visible from the road. They would arrive at the Peak in minutes.

  “The Captain has to let them stay, Lieutenant Habit,” said Highbrow. “Savannah and Nomad aren’t our enemies. They are fighting for survival like the rest of us. People on the outside don’t know they can get shot for trespassing on our land. It’s not like there are warning signs posted.”

  “I said I’ll see what I can do. The Captain will be fair. You know that.” Habit looked over at Nomad. “Let’s hope you can persuade your friends to cooperate.”

  “News flash, folks. The enemy is the undead,” Nomad said, speaking up. “There are millions of them by now. The world is overrun with rotten flesh-eaters. Fighting each other doesn’t make sense. I’m not telling you how to run your camp lieutenant, but like I said earlier, we could help.”

  “Living dead,” Savannah chimed, turning to face Nomad. “Get it right, Nomad. Undead are vampires like Dracula. Zombies are the living dead. Don’t you know anything by now?”

  Her laughter was contagious like the cool night breeze. One by one, they laughed a little before falling silent. Highbrow put his hand on the back of Savannah’s seat as the Jeep bounced. He caught hold of the girl’s shoulder and tried to steady her. Sympathy swelled in his chest.

  “Where’d you two come from?” Highbrow asked.

  “Fort Yates, North Dakota. Nomad was in a bike gang, so I joined them. There were more of us at the start. Someone told us about a safe place at the Peak. We met up with a large caravan and headed this way, which seemed like a good idea at the time. We kept away from the cities, but somewhere along the way we got the attention of a large group of zombies. They’ve been following us for days.” She lifted her tied hands and wiped her eyes. “I’m worried the others won’t make it.”

  “Savannah.” Nomad sighed. “It will be okay. Marge will get through.”

  “You’re safe here,” said Highbrow. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Enough, Highbrow.” The lieutenant tapped him on the shoulder. The girl looked away as Highbrow crooked his head to meet the officer’s eyes. “Don’t make promises.”

  The vehicle rounded a dark stretch of road and came to a break that forked in two directions, the right leading to their camp. Torches burned beside a Hummer and an Army transport that were pulled off to the side. The truck lights flashed as the Jeep rolled by. A soldier saluted and Lieutenant Habit returned the gesture.

  “This is a weird night,” said Habit. “Feels like we should be going home to watch a football game and eat fried chicken. I used to love fried chicken.”

  “Cherry pie.” Nomad laughed. “I’d give my soul for a piece of hot cherry pie. Zombies don’t know what they’re missing anymore.”

  “With a scoop of ice cream,” said Highbrow.

  A wanderer stumbled in front of the vehicle and faced them, freezing like a deer in headlights. They hit the zombie square, jarring everyone in the Jeep. The impact sent the rotting corpse flying up and over, hitting the ground behind them with a splat.

  Hawker offered his apologies. “Won’t happen again, sir.” “Like I said, it’s a weird night.”

  The lights at Base Camp came into view. Crystal Lake was stunning with its surrounding trees and clear, blue water. Several log cabins and dozens of tents dotted the grounds.

  “We’re home,” said Highbrow, giddy. “Safe and sound.”

  Habit grunted. “Yeah, kid. We’re home.”

  Highbrow escorted the prisoners into the main cabin, with the lieutenant and his driver walking ahead of them. Savannah stayed close to Highbrow. Lieutenant Nightshadow was on duty and seated behind a desk flanked by two armed soldiers. Nightshadow was as dark as his name indicated, and a man of mystery.

  Habit stepped forward. “This man is Nomad. He’s a scout for the scavengers,” he said, pointing at the biker. “Tell the Captain he’d like to speak with him on behalf of his friends. Their main group is holed up in Denver, and he says thousands of zombies are headed this way. You might try to get his leader, Logan, on the line while we wait for the Captain.”

  “Is that a good idea, Lieutenant Habit?” asked Nightshadow, suspicious of the newcomers.

  Furious at being challenged, Habit took hold of Nomad by the arm and walked around the desk toward the radio. The soldiers took aim while Nightshadow leaned back, grinning.

  “Move aside, Garble. I want Nomad on the radio. Get your radio, contact the Captain, and tell him to get down here.”

  Garble was terrified. “Okay, okay. What do I do first? Contact the Captain or hail Logan on the radio?”

  “Neither,” Nightshadow said. “Sorry lieutenant, but I’ve got to follow protocol. The Captain isn’t at the Peak. He’s at the Garden checking out that plane crash. Radios can’t reach him out there and we’re to maintain silence over the air, unless we hear from him first. If you want to talk to the Captain you will have to drive out there, but you can’t take the prisoners with you.”

  “Because it’s against the rules,” said Habit, dripping with sarcasm. “Hell, Nightshadow, look at the radar. If it’s tracking like it’s supposed to, those green dots coming this way are zombies, not planes. They’re all over the damn screen. The Captain needs to get back here.”

  Nightshadow threw his hands into the air. “That’s what I’m saying, Lieutenant. Would you be a prince and go tell him what’s going on? I can’t leave my post.”

  “Hawker, let’s go,” said Habit. His driver headed for the door. “I’m sorry, Highbrow, but I’m going to have to ask you to be responsible for the prisoners. I’ll drive to the Garden and get things settled with the Captain, but you’ll need to check them in with Nightshadow, fill out a report, and take them to the Peak.”

  “You’re a decent man, Lieutenant Habit,” said Nomad. “No hard feelings.”

  “None,” Habit said. The two men sh
ook hands. Habit nodded at Highbrow and was on his way.

  Nightshadow picked up a clipboard and asked for the prisoners’ names. “Lieutenant Habit would let every survivor in here if he was in command. He has a soft heart, but I see every scavenger as a potential threat. They should be placed in quarantine for a week before being cleared to enter camp. The Captain is a bit vague on that point, though. He didn’t say I couldn’t give them a camp name and send these two up to the Peak with you.”

  “They have more than a hundred in their group, perhaps two,” said Highbrow. “You heard Lieutenant Habit. Thousands of zombies are headed this way. There isn’t time to follow standard protocol and we could use their help. With that many zombies at the fence, they’ll push it over and we’ll be overrun.”

  “Lieutenant Habit is handling things with the Captain, so do what you’re told. Take Mr. Motorcycle and Little Bo Peep to Doc for an examination. Keep them in the hospital until the Doc clears them. That’s all I can do for you, Highbrow.”

  Nomad stepped forward with respect. “No disrespect, sir, but if Logan contacts you, tell him Nomad is here and I said he’s to abide by your rules. He’ll want to negotiate terms, of course.”

  Nightshadow nodded. “I understand, Mr. Motorcycle. Sarge was a little rough on both of you, and I’m sorry for that. Scavengers have come through here before and brought trouble. If your people are looking for a home, that’s different. I’m sure the Captain will do his best to accommodate your needs and do what he thinks is best to protect the Peak.”

  “We don’t like being called scavengers either. We’re survivors, same as you,” said Savannah in a low voice.

  Under the scrutiny of Nightshadow, she slipped Highbrow’s coat on and zipped it up before crossing her arms over her chest. It was a small act of defiance, but the girl was not as weak as Highbrow first thought. She had spark. He took her by the arm, feeling protective.

  Nightshadow grinned.

  “I’ll take them both to see Doc, sir,” said Highbrow. “After that, I’d like to come back and speak with you.”