The Zombie Plagues Dead Road: The Collected books.

by Geo Dell

  “Not gonna watch, huh?” Ronnie asked.

  Tom shook his head. “I went in for a few seconds, but she's got the girls with her... That's all she needs,” he said.

  “I might try it... I mean when Aim is ready... I mean, it's a once in a lifetime thing, right?”

  Tom nodded. “That floor is stone... Be damn hard to hit when I faint.”

  Mike laughed. “I gotta go with Tom. Candace asked me just this morning... I don't know... I'm squeamish, I guess.”

  “So you're not gonna do it?” Tom asked.

  “Oh, I'm gonna do it. Are you kidding? She asked, and she wants me to be there, same as Lilly wants you to be there. I just don't know how I'm gonna handle it... Like Ronnie said, it's a once in a lifetime thing.”

  “I'm squeamish too,” Tom said.

  “What's squeamish,” Ronnie asked. “Some word you made up?”

  “You never heard of squeamish?” Mike asked.

  “I've heard of it... It means easily upset... Something like that,” Tom said.

  “Delicate?” Ronnie asked.

  Tom frowned. “I don't know about delicate,” he said.

  “Yeah... Well, we were sent to tell you Lilly asked for you. She wants you in there, so it's a moot point... You gotta go,” Mike told him.

  Tom's face turned white. “Really?” he asked.

  “Really, buddy, she's about ready and she wants you there,” Ronnie said.

  “You guys will go with me, right?” Tom asked.

  “Hell no,” Ronnie answered. “It's bad enough that I have to go in when Aim gives birth.”

  Tom's eyes fell on Mike. “Hell no. Uh, uh,” Mike said. “Once will be enough for me.”

  “Damn,” Tom said. He took a deep sip from the coffee cup and then handed the cup back to Mike. “Here goes,” he said as he walked back into the cave.

  ~

  Jessie looked up as Tom stepped into the room. “Here's your man now,” she told Lilly.

  Tom stepped to Lilly's side and took her hand.

  “Talk to her Tom. Tell her to breathe. Push when she needs to. Encourage her, Tom. Help her through this,” Jessie said.

  Steve stood to one side with Sandy, a stainless steel tray next to him draped with a towel. He wondered briefly what it might be for and then Lilly cried out and everything left his head. “Breathe, honey,” he heard someone say. “I love you, hang on baby... Breathe.” And he suddenly realized the voice he heard was his own.

  “Push with the next one, Lilly,” Jessie said.

  “I did this time,” Lilly panted.

  “I know, Honey, just push again... It's crowning. One more big push should be enough,” Jessie told her.

  “You can do it,” Tom said. “I know you can... Breathe like she showed us.”

  The contraction started and Lilly began to moan.

  “Push now, Baby, push,” Tom told her. His own breaths were coming short and hard. His eyes kept flicking back and forth from Lilly's face to the baby's head that had suddenly appeared.

  “Good... Good... A little... Good... Alright, honey, alright... Breathe... Take a breath, breathe,” Jessie said.

  Steve moved in and took the baby. Sandy clamped the umbilical cord off and cut it. Steve massaged the baby's chest as Sandy suctioned his mouth and nose.

  “One more push, Honey, just one more,” Jessie said.

  “Just one more, Honey,” Tom repeated. “Just one more.” His eyes were on the baby boy that was now waving his chubby arms and legs as he was being cleaned up on the top of a nearby stainless steel table.

  Lilly pushed one last time and Sandy caught the placenta in another stainless steel tray as Steve thumped the baby on his feet with one finger. He opened his mouth and bawled.

  “You did it! You did it, Lilly!” Tom said.

  Amy and Candace were on the other side of Lilly, one holding her hand, the other patting her shoulder.

  “You did it, Lil,” Candace told her. “He's beautiful.”

  “The first baby,“ Amy said. Her eyes were tearing up. “The first one, Lil, the first!”

  Lilly choked back a sob.

  “Here you go, Hon,” Sandy said as she eased the baby onto Lilly's chest. Lilly's arms came up protectively. Sandy laid a soft blanket over her and the baby. His head lifted and he began looking for a nipple. Lilly lifted her blouse and let him have it. His tiny hands clutched at her breast, his mouth found her nipple and he began to settle down.

  “Oh,” Amy said, a tear streaking her cheek. “That is so cool.”

  Tears leaked from the corners of Lilly's eyes. One hand smoothed the thick blonde hair on the baby's head. “He's perfect,” she said.

  “I have a son,” Tom said in wonder. “I really do.”

  “And you did good, Tom, you did good,” Candace said. She smiled at him.

  “I did, didn't I? I didn't pass out or anything,” Tom marveled.

  Lilly squeezed his hand. “You did great, Baby,” She said quietly.

  “So did you,” he said. He bent down and kissed her forehead.

  Jessie and Sandy finished up and while Steve held the baby they transferred her to the fresh bed next to her. Steve laid the baby back on her chest and she put him back to her breast.

  “Okay,” Jessie said. “Mommy needs her rest, everybody say your goodbyes now.”

  Candace and Amy kissed Lilly's cheeks and the baby's head.

  “We'll come see you later,” Candace said.

  “Get some sleep,” Amy added.

  Lilly smiled a sleepy smile. “I don't think that will be hard. Thank you guys for being here with me,” she said.

  Tom let go of her hand, kissed one cheek and then brushed a finger across the back of one of the baby's hands. The hand lifted, found Tom's finger and fastened around it. A second later the tiny hand went back to the warmth of Lilly's breast.

  “I love you, Honey, and I'll be back later on once you've gotten some rest,” Tom said. He turned to Jessie and the others. “Thank you,” he said.

  “My pleasure,” Jessie told him.

  “Number one,” Sandy said and hugged him tightly.

  “You did good, man,” Steve told him.

  “I love you too, Baby,” Lilly told him. Tom followed Amy and Candace out the door into the main area of the cave.

  October 18th

  Los Angeles

  Don Abrams stood on top of the low building and watched the street. It was nearly sunrise, and the dead held the streets at this hour. To look down at the street you could easily convince yourself that there was nothing there to be concerned about. That the fear they all held of the dead that had roamed the streets up until the last few months had been totally unfounded. And it wasn't because the dead didn't roam the streets any longer, they did, it was because you didn't see them. They were smarter than that. The hid themselves.

  Don paused a second and digested his thoughts. It was not the first time he had admitted it to himself, but it was the first time it had simply rolled right out during a chain of thought as though it belonged... As though it were real, as though they were real, changed, smarter, existing in some way that none of them could understand.

  Something clanked loudly in the darkness below and Don jumped.

  “What?” Iris from behind him.

  “Nothing... Nothing,” He whispered the words tightly. “A noise below.” Iris said nothing, but left her side of the building, walked over and scanned the street carefully as Don himself was doing.

  “Fuckers are so sneaky,” Don whispered.

  “Should have been gone already... We waited too long,” Iris said a little too loudly. Her voice was emotional, on the edge of another argument. It had, after all, been Don's idea to stay. It had been Don who had been convinced that Los Angeles would rebound. One of the biggest cities in the world, how could it not, he had reasoned, but time had written a different story. The dead owned Los Angeles. All of it, and what the dead didn't own the gangs did. They had no business being here at
all. The dead were killing off the gangs and soon the dead would own it and them right along with it. When he thought about it like that it made his blood run cold: He could feel the chill in his veins; Iris had been right.

  There was nothing he could say at all. Not an admission, not a denial. Iris knew the truth, she hadn't made the remark in hopes of convincing him, she was only stating a fact. They had stayed too long, and now, even though they were trying to make their way out it was proving impossible to get out. They were two in a city full of gang wars, flooded areas, explosions from the broken gas lines, fires, continuing earthquakes, and the dead who followed their every move yet made it seem they were only ghosts in their imaginations. Nothing more than smoke. The clank came from the street again, and this time Don zeroed in on their truck where it sat three stories below. Locked up tight: Welded steel plating over the glass. The doors protected with heavy lock-boxes that protected the door-locks and handles.

  The drivers side was in bright moonlight. Nothing there, but the passenger side was in shadow. He didn't believe anything was there. He hoped nothing was there, but he was unsure. Unconvinced. They were so quick. They changed more and more every day. What seemed beyond them today, hiding in the shadows of the passenger side and working at opening the lock-boxes, might be within their grasp tomorrow. Might even be fully within their grasp today. They simply may not have tipped their hand.

  A low metallic clicking sound came to them. They both raised their rifles, aiming down at the passenger side of the truck. A scratching, scraping sound, followed by some metal object falling to the pavement below, something like chains dragging on concrete, Don thought, and then full panic hit him just before he heard the coils of chain dragged through the eye bolts in the door below and falling to the concrete.

  “The door,” he managed, as he thrust himself away from the edge of the roof and ran back along the roof surface toward the door that was propped open with a length of wood, but before he reached the doorway and kicked the lumber away, he heard the heavy pounding of feet on the stairway. More than one, many, coming up the stairs fast: Even as the wood went flying he knew he was too late. He slammed the door shut with all of his weight and tried to hold it.

  Stupid, he told himself. It was a mantra in his head, Stupid, stupid, stupid! There was no lock on the door. None. He hadn't thought of it.

  He had just begun to wonder if the simple closing of the door would matter. Like it was some sort of horror story and the dead would need to speak some sort of magic words to pass the doorway, unlocked or not, when the first of them hit the door on the other side and it burst from the frame throwing him aside like a rag doll. A second later he was trying to scramble back to his feet. He was twenty feet away from the door, near the edge of the roof, a few steps and he could jump... Head first would do it. He dragged one leg behind him, moving as quickly as he could. Behind him he heard the rifle chatter as Iris opened up on the dead, and he realized he had not fired a shot at all. He tried to shift his direction in mid-stride, yanking the rifle strap from his shoulder as he did, but it was too much. His center of gravity shifted and he fell backwards off the roof.

  ~

  Black... Darkness... Nothing, and then something. Red beyond his eyes, a red film, something he didn't quite understand... He had been... He had been? He tried to force some kind of memory, but none would come.

  His eyes opened with a flutter and he found himself staring into a pair of red rimmed gold flecked eyes. The eyes were set into a face of tautly stretched skin: Yellow-green, split in places: Fine, black lines running below the surface. Lips stretched tightly across chipped and blackened teeth. The eyes watched him. Cold, calculating. Something off to his left caught his attention. A blur of movement, a soft purring-ripping sound, fabric, something.

  His eyes broke away for a second and settled on iris where she lay crumpled on the sidewalk. Three of the dead crouched over her remains, pulling pieces from her body in bloody chunks. Bile rose in his throat and his eyes darted back just as the face arrowed down, the teeth darted quickly to his throat and fastened: Biting, tearing, ripping...

  The Nation

  Janna unfolded the piece of paper as she looked out over the valley. Impossible, but there it was in black and white. The Nation stood at 1562 souls. She had been in possession of the note for a few hours now: Jamie had handed it to her in a hushed expectancy, as though she too could hardly believe it.

  Janna had known they had grown over the last few weeks, several parties had come in, like a huge influx trying to beat the weather, but she had not thought the numbers would be anywhere close to where they were. She had thanked Jamie, they had both laughed excitedly, and she had slipped the piece of paper into her pocket.

  She pulled it from her pocket and read it once again, Convinced it was real, and then unconvinced all over again.

  She returned the note to her pocket once more and watched as David Reed started up the path from the valley below. Arlene was not with him. She felt at the scrap of paper in her pocket, lifted her head and looked around the ledge as though the truth in her pocket might be challenged by something there, but nothing came to her, and she finally accepted it as real. David reached the top and smiled as he started past her. She smiled back and her mouth opened of its own accord.

  “David,” her arm reached out and pulled him close as she spoke. He smiled back nervously.

  “David, if you had to guess, how many people would you think we have in The Nation? A wild guess, David... How many?”

  He stared at her for a second, uncomprehending, before he found his tongue. Her hand brushed against his thigh as she dug into her pocket. He could feel her fingers now, pressure against his thigh, he backed away a step and tried the smile back on his face.

  Janna seemed to realize how close he was at the same time, and tried to take a backward step and nearly tripped. David's hand shot out and caught her, brushing against one breast as he did, helping her back to her feet, aware of her body in a way he hadn't been aware of it before as he held her briefly. They both stepped apart.

  “I'm, sorry, David. I,” she started, but she had nowhere to go with that thought. No finish.

  “It was my fault,” David said as his face flushed bright red.

  “David?” From behind them. Arlene coming out the door. They both jumped guiltily as she came to them.

  Oblivious, David thought. Oblivious of what, his mind asked a second later.

  “Arlene,” Janna cried. She grabbed her and pulled her close, breaking whatever spell had held them. “I had told David, what do you think the population of The Nation is tonight, right now?”

  Arlene smiled and looked at David. “What did you guess?” She asked. She brushed his hair away from his eyes where it always seemed to fall of its own accord.

  “Didn't have a chance,” David answered, glad the moment, whatever it had been, had passed.

  “Eight hundred?” Arlene asked.

  “Fifteen-hundred-sixty-two,” Janna said in a subdued voice and then broke into laughter.

  “Get out,” Arlene said loudly. “That is not possible.”

  “What's not possible?” Bob asked as he stepped through the doorway and closed it behind him.

  “Our population,” David said.

  Bob raised his eyebrows.

  October 19th

  Dawn was cold and overcast for the second day in a row.

  Mike stood, Ronnie beside him, several others scattered across the ledge, and watched the vehicles make their way through the valley below. In a few moments they would be out of site. Heading for the flat land and the forest in the far distance.

  There were five vehicles. Bear and Beth in one, Billy and Pearl in another, and three other teams that would be erecting shelters at the old state park and setting up an outpost.

  “It seems like things have moved so goddamn fast,” Mike said thoughtfully to Ronnie.

  “Really?” Ronnie asked. “To me it seems like we should already have b
een here. It has seemed like pulling teeth every time we make a change or step forward.”

  “Really?” Mike asked.

  Ronnie laughed. “No. It seems the same to me. Crazy fast. I hope they really know what they are up to. I really do.”

  Mike nodded, the door to the main area opened and Amy and Candace walked out onto the ledge and the low stone wall where they stood.

  “Can't see them,” Amy said.

  “Right...” Ronnie began as he lifted one hand. He laughed, his hand hanging in mid air and then he dropped it back to his side. “Well, they were right there.”

  Mike laughed. “You missed them by this much.” He held his thumb and fore finger together, barely separated. His eyes scanned the distance again. They had disappeared just that quickly. He took Candace's hand. “Come on,” he said. “It's far too cold out here this morning.” He lead the four of them back inside just as small flakes of snow began to fall from the sky.

  SEVEN

  October 28th Year One

  Watertown New York

  Bear's truck rolled to a stop at the side of the roadway, and Billy and Pearl pulled in behind them. Beth levered the door open and jumped down to the ground, her machine pistol in her hand.

  “This it?” Beth asked.

  “I think so,” Bear answered. “Right city, anyway. We followed the maps as best we could.”

  “This is it.” Pearl, as she strode forward from the truck she shared with Billy.

  They had followed what was left of the interstate, turned off, found route 11 and followed it into the city. They were at the top of a long stretch of road that sloped steeply down into the small city below. They had a good view for miles, but there was very little to see. A building here or there, poking through the fall colors of the valley below them, and that was it.

  “Don't look like much,” Bear said.

  “Isn't,” Billy agreed.

  Bear looked at him. Billy met his eyes and then turned and looked back out over the valley.

  “I can't believe I lived here at one time,” Billy said.

  “What can you add that might help?” Bear said?