Z-Risen (Book 3): Poisoned Earth

by Long, Timothy W.

  Next chance we got, I was going to bring back a stack of paperbacks to help pass the time.

  I laid out our weapons and inspected each and every one. If Joel had taught me one thing, it was that we needed to keep our guns ready for action. Christy was a quick study, and pitched in to help. Together we stripped guns, ran rags over the moving parts, and lubricated them from a can of motor oil.

  Christy smiled more than once as we sat in companionable silence, so I smiled back. When we were done, I slipped the Springfield XDM 9mm into its holster.

  The next few hours weren’t so bad after all.

  ###

  16:15 hours approximate

  Location: Just outside of Oceanside

  After bumping along back roads at a crawl for several hours, Joel brought the truck to a halt.

  I’d been eyeing the world from inside the camper while we bounced along. It wasn’t just the main roads; even the back alleys and paths had been littered with debris and abandoned cars. Bodies--always bodies, most unmoving--blocked us at points. I’d gotten used to jumping out of our vehicle and helping Joel move the dead out of the way, or bashing in the heads of rotters before dragging them off to the side.

  Now that we’d stopped, I looked outside and found that we were near a housing development that was somewhat secluded, thanks to a tall line of cypress trees. The place looked like a country club in the making. Half-finished homes lay next to completed two-story stucco- and particle-board-sided buildings.

  I stepped out of the camper and joined Joel and Roz.

  “Nice place you found,” I said.

  “I think Oceanside is just a few miles west of our location. Tomorrow we should see Pendleton,” Joel said.

  “You think we’re going to find the base operational?” I had to ask. We’d had this goal for weeks, and now that it was within reach, I wondered if we would find what we were even looking for. The camp could be a graveyard for all we knew.

  “That’s the hope, brother. That’s the hope,” Joel said.

  “What now?”

  “We need a place to sleep. Gonna take a look around. You two scout around but stay close. I’ll get on top of the camper and cover you, but if you see Zs, you come back and we’ll leave,” Joel said.

  “Aye aye, captain,” I said with a smirk.

  He clambered up the side of the camper to the roof. Joel stood up and scanned the area, hand shading his eyes as he took up lookout duty.

  Roz and I explored but didn’t find anything except homes with kicked in doors--assuming they had even been completed. I thought I saw a pair of eyes peeking out from one house, but decided not to investigate any further.

  The largest problem was a pile of people who’d been dragged into the street and shot in their heads. From the state of decay--that was, rot and shredded clothing that might have been gnawed at by feral dogs--it was hard to tell if they’d been alive when they were killed or had already been Zs.

  We found a heap of bodies with a row of decapitated heads next to it. They were stacked up in an obscene pyramid. Darkened and in some cases blood-filled eye sockets, from which dried-out and damned eyes stared back.

  We dragged bodies off to the side, Joel with a stubborn look on his face, me with a red bandana wrapped around mine. It didn’t really help to alleviate the smell, but it made me feel like I was making the effort.

  A mini-horde of moaners found us just as we cleared the road, so we got back in the truck and drove on. No reason to stick around and try to slaughter them when they weren’t a threat.

  After we finished our sweep, Joel located a house with a carport and backed in, because with night falling, the development seemed the best place to call home for the night.

  “Looks like Joel found us a pretty swanky place,” I said to Anna.

  I inspected her wound. It looked good, as far as my untrained eye could tell. It was hot around the entry point, but I suspected that was okay. I’d ask Roz later.

  “We need another location to sleep that isn’t this cramped camper, especially since Joel snores,” I said.

  “So do you, Creed. You snore like a goddamn train. Get me some fucking earplugs the next time you make a supply run.”

  “Earplugs? You wouldn’t hear the Zs coming,” I said, and made claws out of my hands, lifting them in my best approximation of a zombie.

  “You’re scarier when you snore,” she said.

  I rolled my eyes and lurched forward as the truck came to a stop. Joel cranked it to the right and then backed up again. Christy rose and looked out the window. She carried her snub-nosed revolver in one hand. I had to admire the kid. She’d gone from a sad and awkward teen to a tougher and still-awkward teen ready to pop a Z in the head if they got too close.

  Anna pushed the sheet aside. She wasn’t wearing much, and my eyes traveled up and down her legs. It’d been a week since we’d been intimate, and I missed looking at her.

  Anna followed my eyes and blew out a breath. “Perv.”

  “I’ve been staring at walls for days. You’re a sight, baby,” I said.

  Anna tugged her pants on and got to her feet. She leaned over and put her hand on my shoulder. I reached for her, but she shook her head.

  “Sorry. Just a little dizzy. I’m okay now.”

  Joel opened the door. “We’re here, kids. I hope you ain’t been fighting back here.”

  Christy giggled and slipped past him. Anna wrapped her belt around her waist and slid the Smith & Wesson M&P R8 into the holster. She moved to the door, and Joel helped her down.

  I grabbed my wrench and joined them.

  ###

  16:30 hours approximate

  Location: Just outside of Oceanside

  The house had two entry points, not including the windows. It was two stories, and the paint hadn’t been applied on the inside or out. There was a For Sale sign driven into the ground outside. The lawn was dirt where grass would have been layered in long strips. A few shrubs had been planted, but most of them were now wilted.

  Place like this was probably kept up until a potential buyer happened along. With the current drought conditions in California it wasn’t a surprise. Should say former drought conditions. Without thirty-eight million people constantly showering, watering lawns, and filling pools, it stood to reason that there was now enough water to go around. All we had to do was find a mountain, and we’d have an unlimited supply.

  “Pools,” I said.

  “Bars,” Joel said.

  “What?”

  “Thought we were just saying random fucking words, Creed.”

  “I was just thinking--California is filled with pools. We should find one that isn’t too stagnant and stick a hose in. Siphon up a bunch of water and filter or boil it.”

  “Damn, Skippy, you’re pretty smart for a squid,” Joel said.

  I shot him the finger.

  “That’s a good idea. Maybe tomorrow we can scout some of the houses and look for water. It’s been relatively cool. The problem is all the chlorine. I don’t know if we can filter it out. Plus the pools have been sitting unattended for close to two months. I’m not even sure if we should risk it,” Roz said.

  Joel nodded. He slung his AR-15 around his neck on his two-point sling and double-checked his sidearm.

  Joel and Roz walked the perimeter while Anna, Christy and I kept an eye out for Zs and moved our supplies near the back door. I tapped a few windows and then moved away. No faces--living or dead--appeared.

  The backyard butted up to a small wooded area that made me think twice about this location.

  “You sure that’s safe?” I said and pointed at the trees.

  “I figure it will be a last resort. We can move faster than Zs if we have to run. The trees’ll slow them down. There’s another house that’s done and has a better view all around, but I saw something moving inside.”

  “I don’t feel like a Z hunt tonight,” I said.

  About the worst thing in the world was going through a house, cl
earing it, and hoping we weren’t surprised by some crafty rotter who’d shamble out of a closet while we had our backs turned.

  When we reached the rear of the house I tried the door, but it was double-locked. I pushed, but Joel motioned for me to join him.

  “See that window?” He pointed.

  “Yeah, but how am I going to get up there? I don’t see a ladder.”

  “I’m going, you weigh more than me.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” I said.

  “'Cause you’re gonna give me a boost.”

  Joel put his assault rifle on the ground and motioned for me to cup my hands.

  “You kidding? I’m not sure I can lift you with all that damn gear.”

  “One way to find out, sailor. I could climb up on your shoulders if that makes you feel better. Just stand there like a big-ass tree.”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake,” I said and cupped my hands.

  Joel put his boot in my improvised sling and his hands on my shoulders.

  “On three,” he said.

  We counted and he jumped. I felt like I was flinging him into the air, but he caught the edge of the roof. He nearly ripped the gutter off, but managed to pull himself up until his legs were dangling. He dragged himself over, then flipped around and motioned toward me. I handed Joel his assault rifle and backed away to watch.

  Joel moved to the window and stared inside for a few seconds. He pressed the jamb and lifted. The portal opened without a sound.

  Joel slipped inside and then was gone from sight.

  ###

  16:45 hours approximate

  Location: Just outside of Oceanside

  I slid out the Springfield XDM and waited. The gun felt good in my hand, but it wasn’t my only weapon. I didn’t go anywhere without my trusty eight-pound wrench, so it was hanging uncomfortably under my arm.

  I half expected Joel’s rifle to start barking out 5.56 rounds, but he reached the back door, unbolted it, and swung it open.

  “Let’s do a full sweep. I checked the bedroom I entered but the rest are waiting. The stairs and the entry to the kitchen are clear. I didn’t go through all the closets yet. Stay frosty,” he said.

  Frosty lifted her head at the sound of her name.

  “Get 'em, girl,” I said and let her go.

  Frosty dashed into the house and ran toward a back room.

  I trailed behind Joel and followed his lead. One of the worst things about entering a new house is looking in all the rooms and doorways. We’d learned early on that folks couldn’t kill a loved one. They preferred to lock them in a little space, presumably to wait for a cure or just so they didn’t have to put up with the moans and biting.

  Joel moved through the house, checking and clearing each area. When we entered rooms I kept my eyes on the corners and his back. The thing about the dead is: they might be hanging around, staring at a wall, and you wouldn’t even know it until they were on you.

  The floors weren’t finished, but the concrete had a layer of padding. Carpet lay in huge rolls in the dining room and wood strips were stacked up in another corner. Fading sunlight lit the room from an abundance of windows, creating a space that was easy to inspect.

  We hit every closet and room, looked in half-finished bathrooms and in cabinets and pantries. I expected the upstairs to have a few Zs, but the rooms were also clear and as bare as the downstairs.

  We found some supplies and a surprise in a closet: paint, paint thinner, masking tape, a couple of rulers, some power tools, and other small contractor items. A toolbox revealed hand tools and a few boxes of screws, bolts, and nuts.

  One of the tools--a cordless drill--was stuck in a man’s head. His body was decayed and partially mummified. It was hard to tell if someone had killed him or if he’d done it himself. I considered what I’d do if I was bitten and all I had was a fucking power drill. Would I have the nerve to drive it into my own head?

  Frosty growled at the body. I rubbed her head and got a lick for my efforts.

  “Damn, that dude reeks,” Joel said.

  “Let’s get the stuff we can use, and then leave him to his tomb. He’s not going to bother us,” I said.

  “We’re at that point, huh? Fucking corpse in the house and we’re just gonna leave it?” Joel said.

  “What else should we do, drag him outside and do a burial? Nah, man, I’ve seen enough corpses and body parts to last me three lifetimes.”

  “Let’s not tell the ladies, eh?” Joel said.

  “Sexist asshole,” I laughed. “None of them is squeamish.”

  “I was thinking of Christy. Girl’s seen enough bodies, rot, and Zs to last three lifetimes. No sense her worrying about a body in the house.”

  “Yeah, man. I get it. Well, looks like we got a home for a night,” I said. “What do you think a place like this costs?”

  “Before the Zs? Probably more money than you and I make in a few years. After the apocalypse? Shit’s free.”

  We took out anything that might be useful and moved it into the kitchen.

  One thing was for damn sure: I was looking forward to stretching out.

  ###

  17:30 hours approximate

  Location: Just outside of Oceanside

  I brought Frosty along when I moved the truck behind the house. She investigated the unfinished yard for a few minutes before finding the perfect place to take a dump. Christy stayed close to the dog, and praised her when she didn’t run off. Frosty was loyal to us first, and teasing/chasing Zs second. Still, she paused a few times to sniff the air, and looked in the direction of the woods once or twice.

  Joel and Roz moved food, the burner, and other gear inside the house. Anna picked up her bag and a couple of cans of food. I joined her and offered my arm, but she shook me off. She looked a bit dazed, but I suspected it was the drugs. Her short hair was frazzled and she looked like she needed a week off in a tropical vacation getaway. Her body language was tense--that was the best word for it. She ran her hands over the stock of the handgun at her side more than once.

  “She spooked?” Anna nodded toward Frosty.

  “Not sure. Maybe there’s a maimed Z back in the woods somewhere.”

  Anna walked to the corner of the yard. She petted Frosty and waited, head moving back and forth as she scanned the copses.

  The dog must have gotten bored, because she sat down and scratched her neck for a few seconds, and then galloped back to me. I rubbed her head and assured her she was a dyed in the wool killer.

  We moved gear into the house, just enough for the night, and set up camp in the middle of the kitchen. The entryway was open, but there was only one window. Joel and I cut off a big chunk of carpet and wedged it over the portal. No sense in advertising that we had taken up occupancy.

  I checked the faucet over the sink, but no water came out. I found the valves and twisted the cold lever all the way to the right. To my surprise, water gurgled up the tubes. It came out in a trickle, but Christy was quick and got a bucket under the stream until it ran out. We got about two gallons. I tasted it and found it stale, but grabbed a mug from our belongings and gulped it down.

  “Don’t want to clean it first?” Roz asked.

  “It just tastes like pipes. Water’s been sitting there but it’s clean,” I said.

  Christy didn’t look convinced, and told us she’d take it out to the camper and run it through our filtering system.

  “Take Frosty,” I said. She nodded and ducked out of the house.

  “It’s good to stretch out,” Joel said.

  “Yeah. Good to get some life back in our legs,” Roz nodded.

  Joel caught her looking at him and gave a small nod. He rose and together they went to “investigate” the house.

  Anna pulled a sleeping bag out of her pack and rolled it out flat. She crawled inside and zipped it up.

  “Room for me in there?” I winked.

  “Sorry. I’m running a fever and everything makes my skin crawl right now
. Nothing personal, Creed,” she said.

  I nodded and took out the burner and a couple of cans of stew. Might as well eat our precious supplies while we had the opportunity. Tomorrow we’d arrive at the Marine base, if we weren’t ambushed by shufflers, devoured by fucking zombies, or killed by marauders--or if we didn't succumb to some stupid disease that was out to do us in. That’s what our lives had come to: running from all of the things that wanted to do us harm.

  “I’m going to see if there’s enough water for a good flush in the bathroom,” I said.

  “Great, Creed. If not, nail the door shut when you’re done,” Anna said.

  ###

  20:40 hours approximate

  Location: Just outside of Oceanside

  We gathered in the tiny room and made a decent dinner: stew, canned beans, a can of creamed corn, and a few crackers. Anna said she was feeling better, so I sat next to her and tried to cheer her up with dumb stories of being young and overseas. I got the occasional half-smile out of her, but she wasn’t really paying attention to me.

  Roz and Joel rolled out sleeping mats and piled on a few blankets. Christy wrote in a journal--something she’d seen me do every day, and something I’d encouraged.

  Frosty rolled on her back and growled. Her tail swished back and forth while her tongue lolled out. She wanted to play, and nipped at my hand a few times while I rubbed her chest.

  “Anyone want to play spades?” I asked.

  Christy shook her head and went back to writing. Joel and Roz looked at each other, then shook their heads as well.

  “Can’t play with just two people,” I said to myself.

  “Play with yourself,” Anna suggested.

  I cracked a smile.

  Christy and I played a few hands of high stakes five-card poker and I ended up owing her six million dollars. Just my luck. Last week she'd owed me fifteen million, give or take.

  I know a lot of people probably love the quiet. I don’t. I was used to the noise of the engine room, the hum of the pipes, steam, and the exhaust fans that blew air around the ship. I slept like a goddamn baby when I was out at sea. When I stayed in town I needed a fan cranked up to high just to doze off.