The Zombie Plagues Dead Road: The Collected books.

by Geo Dell

  “Maybe load one of those metal buildings on a truck. There's nothing to them when they're apart,” Ronnie said.

  “Maybe a few of them,” Jeff said. “They might have to do us for a while.”

  “Pots and pans. The heavy duty stuff. Stuff that will last,” Patty said. “Cast iron.”

  “And those steel laundry tubs.” Candace said.

  “Maybe some...”

  ~

  The conversation and suggestions went on and on, some drifted away to take the first posts of the night. In the end Janet had most of a spiral notebook filled with notes.

  The good feeling stayed with them, fueled by the knowledge that tomorrow would see them back on the road and heading for their destination some twelve hundred miles to the southwest.

  ~Candace's journal~

  I'm tired so this will be a short entry. This is our last night of privacy in a real room, and a real bed, (me with my candle so I can write).

  We're going. We're all going. Bob's dream, and Janet's as well really, is about to be realized. And Lilly is pregnant. And I would say we can't top that, except, both Patty and I missed our monthly. Stress? Maybe. But, wouldn't it be nice? We're both only a little late, so we're not getting our hopes up. Of course, we really are!

  ~Mike's journal~

  It's early. We're going to go eat in just a few minutes, but I wanted to write this down. We're all going to do this wilderness thing with Bob and Janet. We must be nuts! I say that, but I'm kidding. I can't imagine going back to the way things were, even if we could. The other big news is Lilly is pregnant. Wow. What can I say after that?

  ~Arlene's journal~

  I was told about the journals, and I thought it was a good idea. There are some keeping them here. I thought I'd be another one. I've never had a child. All the girls here want to have children. I can feel that, and I wish I could, but I've never been able to. Maybe something is wrong inside, maybe it isn't. I don't know.

  It was something I was honest with David about. That and our age difference I was sure would keep us part. But he wouldn't have it. He loves me and to him that's enough. I want that to be true. I want that to be the truth. And there are five children here who need parents. I approached David about that, and he thinks that's a good idea. So I guess we will have our family.

  We're joined to this other group now, hell or high water as my mother used to say. We're heading out in the morning. We're going towards a large tract of that Forever Wild land, and we're going to settle there. Bob actually took my opinion on horses, cows. How to get them there; how to keep them there.

  It has been a long time since someone cared about my opinion, let alone asked for it. It felt good.

  We made lists of things we need to take. I remembered something a little while ago that I forgot to mention. Music. Either instruments to make it on, or a medium to play it on. Or both really. Would that be nice? Maybe from those solar panels that were mentioned. Music is important to me.

  We are in a room. A real room. Quiet and dry, and who knows when we'll have that again.

  ~Janet Dove's diary~

  I could write for an hour, a week, a month, and still not be able to explain how I feel inside. I am so happy. We're going to do it, Bob and I and all the rest. We're going to the middle of this country, to the middle of the Forever Wild area, and starting all over again. We are leaving in the morning.

  ~Donita and the boy~

  The fires burned bright, freshly banked for the night. She could not say what it was in fire that frightened her, but it did. It touched something deep inside, something that she could sense had not always been there. Like at one time she had embraced fire the same way the breathers did. Now it only frightened her.

  Behind her, the boy whined, high pitched and frightened. The fire did the same thing to him. She turned and allowed a growl to slip from her cracked and peeling lips, and the boy quieted down immediately.

  She looked back toward the fires. She should have gone already. She should have taken the boy and moved on. The breathers could mean death to both of them. The dog kept coming around. And now there was another dog. She could smell her.

  But the breathers didn't usually hang around that long. Others had come and gone just as quickly. These should have been gone when the moon rose into the night sky, packed up and gone while she and the boy had been in twilight. But they were still there. Their terrible fires burning and sending their stink into the air, creating heat. Heat was an enemy of all things cold, she told herself. And she was a thing cold.

  She stood, her legs flexing easily, something they did not do just a short time ago. Behind her, the boy stood also, soundlessly, and although she did not see him - hear him - she felt him. She knew he had stood, knew he was waiting for her to move, knew that he believed the entire world revolved around her. All this with no words, touches, conscious thoughts.

  She looked off through the trees to the opposite side of the road, across from where the breathers were camped.

  Her new eyes saw more than her old eyes had ever seen, though not precisely as she had seen with those other eyes. This sight was not suited to daylight. It could see - would see - in daylight, but not well. The lesser light of the moon was the light she needed.

  She could see for more than a quarter mile clearly. But it was not just about the seeing. Smell, the feel of the air upon her skin, things that could not work the way they used to work, now worked with her eyes. She saw the scent on the wind. She perceived the movement of air across her skin with her eyes. She saw it. Her eyes were her windows to the world.

  She saw the rabbits far across the field, past the other road, and rabbits were fine, but it was not the rabbits that had attracted her. It was the boy, not much older than the one behind her, that had caught her attention.

  He carried rocks in a pouch, held a weapon in his hand as he stalked the rabbits.

  He was alone. It was a thing that she knew. He was not a part of the breathers that were camped not far away. He was a loner, and he had managed to avoid the ones like her that must have scented him, followed him. She scented the air and drank in the information.

  Alone... Hungry... Mistrustful. He stumbled, and the rabbits spooked. Before he could react, the rabbits were across the balding grass patches near the trees on the opposite side of the road and into the tall grass. She could feel them running through the grass. Tiny hearts beating fast, knocking against their rib cages. She tracked the boy at the same time. He had lunged for the tall grass and then had fallen back. His head came up, scenting the air the way breathers did, and she knew he had caught her scent, the same way any hunted animal did, even when they did not yet know they were hunted. It had been the reason he had stumbled and frightened the rabbits. She said nothing, simply flexed her leg and leapt into the tall grass, the boy behind her.

  The woods emptied out into a narrow valley sparsely populated with scrub pines, a small creek running through the bottom. The boy made the creek at a dead run, but the fire in his side caused him to stumble. She was not there to see him stumble, but she knew it just the same. A second later the boy was on him, knocking him flat to the ground. When Donita came upon them, the boy had his hands tightly around the boy's throat, riding his chest as he bucked and thrashed. She flew upon them, pushing the boy aside, driving a knee into the boy's throat and closing off the air he had been fighting so hard for. She pressed her body hard against his, stretched out flat upon him, and held on as he thrashed and clawed.

  ~

  He fought hard, but he faded just as quickly. With no air, breathers could not fight long. Something she had learned, had known, she told herself now, but she did not remember how she knew, she only knew that she did. When at last he stopped his fight, she rolled off him and rose to her full height, towering over him, looking down at him.

  He was barely as big as the boy she had already. He would be just as ignorant too, stupid... but open to learn, and he seemed stronger, built bigger. Wherever he had been - and
she could smell places on him that she had never known - wherever he had been, he had used his rocks and weapon well, kept himself well fed. She sighed. It was not her choice alone, and she could feel that the boy resented him, did not want him to be a part of them. She waited for his emotions - still so much like the breather he had been - to pass.

  He came to his own understanding. The whole was more than the one. Collectively, they could win. There was no other way. He came to her, and she understood the change in what he had felt. He squatted, his hands planted in the red dirt of the valley floor. His eyes, not quite like her own yet, but changing, turned up to the moon. Silver-blue moonlight painted his face. She stood briefly and then moved to the boy where he lay, his dead eyes reflecting dully the same moonlight that brought so much life to the other boy. She lowered her body and then brought her weight down upon his chest.

  There was still warmth and it both excited and repulsed her as her thighs settled on either side of his ribs. She bent forward and lowered her mouth to his throat, finding the hollow. She tilted his chin with one hand and then turned his neck to the side. Her teeth found the artery below the skin and closed over it. A second later the passion took her, and she lost herself.

  ~The hour before Moon-set~

  She crouched close to the boy, her hands hanging at her side. The other boy was made. She knew he was made, he was just having a little trouble finding his way back from his first twilight. She had no sooner finished her thoughts than the boy's back arched like a bow and he began to flop and buck. The two waited as he fought the fact of death. The first few minutes were the hardest, when your mind could not yet believe that it could live without drawing breath. That time was barely even a memory for her, clearer for the boy.

  He bucked once more, arched his back so hard she could hear the tendons straining and then bolted upright, eyes wide, moonlight alive and shining in them. His chest heaved, heaved again, but his lungs did not work, would not work. She squatted still, her fingers tented upon the earth to hold the weight of her body, and waited.

  Chapter Four

  ~ March 29th~

  “No,” Mike said, “I don't want to get up.”

  “Are you sure?” Candace asked teasingly.

  “The sun isn't even up,” Mike said.

  “Nope, but this is our last morning like this for a while,” she said.

  “Oh,” his arms reached around her and pulled her close. “In that case,” he said.

  ~

  After they made love, they lay awake talking in low whispers, watching light creep into the world.

  “There was a song I liked, A minor, like the key?” Candace said.

  “I remember that. Some guy.” Mike said.

  “Yeah. There was a line, really there were a few lines that I liked, but one was like the guy was talking about my life,” she said. “It was, I'm just sitting here waiting on a bus for the next, talking about his life and how it was, how he felt about it. That was me. I used to look out at the world and wonder where I was going to, what moved me along to whatever might be next, because there was nothing here for me.” She finished softly.

  “I know that feeling. I felt that as well,” Mike said.

  “Yeah, but where I'm at now is the exact opposite of that. I've got the whole world somehow. You... I know we'll have children, a safe place to live, friends. God, how could I have been so far down? Now I can't wait to live life, see what today is. It's just such a different place. I love you so much,” she said. Her eyes were shiny in the sparse light. He kissed her and pulled her to him.

  “I love you too,” he said as he kissed her again. He kissed her neck, worked his way down to her breasts, then across her stomach as she lay back into the pillows.

  And the light crept slowly into the room.

  ~

  Mike sat sipping coffee by the fire when Jeff and Sharon walked over. Sharon settled into a conversation with Candace. Jeff raised his eyebrows at Mike and Ronnie. They both got up and walked away from the fire.

  “What's on your mind, Jeff?” Mike asked

  “Probably nothing. I had the overnight... kept hearing something, I don't know, out of place. The Dog kept looking over at the woods, growling really low. The fires were going, meat still drying, cows, deer, who knows what else out there in the fields. Could be a predator, I thought.”

  Mike nodded. Ronnie looked concerned. He stuffed his hands down into his pockets and leaned closer.

  “That's it. No big deal. I wasn't about to walk away from here and go check it out in the middle of the night.” He sipped at his coffee. “Went over first thing, right after daybreak. It was bugging the hell out of me.”

  “What was it?” Ronnie asked.

  “Nothing right out there, but...” he turned and looked towards the woods, turned back, dumped what little coffee remained in his cup, grounds mostly, Mike saw. “Walk over there with me?” He asked.

  “Sure,” Mike agreed.

  “Absolutely,” Ronnie said tightly.

  Mike returned his own empty cup to the table, smiled down at Candace's questioning look. “No big deal,” he told her. He turned away, and he and Ronnie followed Jeff across the fields toward the small woods on the other side. Halfway there, Candace caught up, Patty with her. Candace slipped one arm through Mike's own; Patty had her other arm. “Don't know,” Mike told her. “It's Jeff's show.”

  The smell hit them before they reached the woods.

  “Jesus,” Ronnie said, “What in ...”

  “Bad, right?” Jeff said. “That's why I wanted you to come along.” He moved his eyes to include Mike, and then further to include Candace and Patty. “That hit me hard, just like it did you.” He walked to the edge of the woods and peered in. “Come on,” he said. “Take a look at this.” He stepped into the tree line and disappeared from sight almost entirely. Just another shadow in the shadows that made the tree line their home.

  Candace stepped into the shadowed woods, and her eyes adjusted almost immediately. Once they did, she could see well in the shadowed clearing, and it was clear to her that something had been living here. She stopped. Patty bumped up against her and then pressed her body tightly to her own, burying her face in Candace's neck.

  “My God,” Patty whispered against her neck. She pulled away a second later and walked quickly back out into the sunshine. Candace looked after her, hesitated, and then went after her. Mike, Ronnie and Jeff stood in the shadows looking over the small area that had been hollowed out of the woods.

  The carcass of a small calf lay rotting a few feet away, the throat torn open, the stomach bloated, swollen, intestines spilling out of her side where whatever had killed her had been feeding. A few feet away, a shriveled corpse, whether man or woman it was hard to tell, but whatever had been feeding on the calf had been feeding on the body also. The head had been dragged several feet away. Most of the chest was gone, one arm, and the stomach lay open. A hollowed cavity.

  Mike raised his eyes and took in the gloom. His eyes searching the area.

  “Something’s been living here,” Jeff said quietly.

  Candace and Patty stepped back into the small clearing. “Why does it look as though this was cleared?” Candace said.

  “Exactly my question,” Jeff said.

  “Probably was already cleared,” Ronnie said. “Then this animal comes along...”

  “Maybe the body was someone camped out here, then whatever this was come along and killed them?” Patty asked.

  No one spoke.

  Mike turned back to the clearing from his examination of the surrounding woods. “Trails,” Mike said. He pointed. “There and there.”

  “Might have been here last night.” This from Candace. “I say it because there's nothing else here. No other animals have moved in to take what's left.” She looked at Jeff.

  He nodded. “I thought that as well. It's maybe not a problem because we're leaving soon.”

  “Today,” Mike said. His eyes swept the clearing again. �
��This morning.”

  “Yeah,” Ronnie agreed.

  “Probably should keep this to ourselves,” Mike added.

  Jeff nodded. “My thoughts.”

  “But I guess we better check the areas we stay in closer,” Candace said. “Who knows what this was.” She turned and looked through the woods across the fields. Their camp was easily visible. She shuddered. Jeff caught her eyes and blinked. Mike caught the interplay.

  “Yeah,” Mike said. “Whatever it was could have crouched here, hidden, and watched us.”

  “Do animals do that?” Patty asked.

  “Sure,” Ronnie said.

  “'Cause it seems like hunters,” Patty added.

  “Animals are hunters, Babe,” Ronnie said.

  Patty stayed silent. Jeff cleared his throat quietly. “Back in Vermont we came across a... a nest like this more than once.”

  “Why nest?” Mike asked.

  Jeff shrugged. “It seemed like a nest. Look at the way it's arranged, like a clearing, like a real clearing. Seems...” He shrugged.

  Candace raised her eyebrows to him.

  “I don't have an answer, okay. Look at it though. I never used to hunt in the old world, but it looks a little like a hunting camp, doesn't it?” He looked embarrassed.

  “No campfire,” Ronnie said.

  “Yeah. Yeah, that threw me. I guess my concern is someone following us.” Jeff said.

  “People don't eat people,” Patty said quietly. She seemed glued to Candace's side.

  “Zombies do,” Ronnie said and laughed.

  “Not funny, really. Some people in Vermont swore they saw things like that.” Jeff said. He looked at Mike.

  Mike fixed his eyes on him. “We need to be careful there. You mean someone, something else beside what you told me?”

  Jeff sighed. “Nothing solid. This one guy was with us a day or two, found a... a nest, he said, a nest like this... a body. But, the body, he said, was not dead. It got up and ran away when he poked it with a stick.” He held his hands in front of him. “Didn't say I believed it. Wasn't there... Didn't see it.”