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Zombie Road: The Second Omnibus | Books 4-6 | Jessie+Scarlet

Page 43

by Simpson, David A.


  Scarlet stared at him over the rim of her coffee cup. She’d cleaned her plate and had been stealing bites from his, declaring they were getting ripped off, the portions were entirely too small.

  “I like riding with you.” she said, honesty in her eyes.

  “Yeah.” Jessie said and struggled for words, not sure how to go on. “But there’s a problem.”

  “What problem?” she asked. “Bob doesn’t care and I can’t take Nefertiti on a motorcycle. We make a good team, don’t we?”

  “How do you know Bob doesn’t care?” Jessie said. “Maybe he doesn’t want to ride in the back with a cat.”

  “Because Bob is smart and brave and good looking and wise. He knows we are a good team, like Wonder Woman and Robin. We could do good things, like save a woman from sleeping with a black toothed man. Only big dummy would think otherwise.”

  Jessie considered it. Weighed the benefits and drawbacks of riding with a passenger, especially her. The elephant in the room that neither one of them wanted to talk about was the Cult. She’d just killed some her own men but it had torn her up to do so. Jessie didn’t know where her loyalties were. Would she abandon him, or worse, turn against him if they ran into any more of her people?

  Scarlet saw his hesitation and knew where it was coming from. He wasn’t sure if they were still enemies. If they should be trying to kill each other.

  “Jessie,” she said getting serious for a moment. “I thought for a long time last night about where this world is going. About Casey’s men who caged me and go around eating people. I have done many things I am not proud of but nothing like them. I don’t want to think about politics or religion or which government is right and who is wrong. I want to help people. It felt good inside to save that woman from making boom boom with ugly man. You help people. You are the Road Angel. You never get weary of doing good. I want to help, too.”

  That wasn’t entirely true, Jessie did get tired of helping people. Sometimes it didn’t work out, sometimes he only made things worse. Sometimes he screwed up and got friends killed. Or a whole orphanage raped and beheaded. He hadn’t made mistakes like that in a long time though and their faces and accusing eyes didn’t haunt him like they used to but they were still there. Still reminders.

  She had a point, though. They were kind of awesome together and she wasn’t all bad. He kind of liked her a little and he’d gotten used to having somebody else around. Besides, if she was with him, he could keep an eye on her. She couldn’t be doing any of the cult’s business.

  “Okay.” he finally said. “But I’m not going to be Robin, he had a dumb costume.”

  “Fine.” she said “You’re more like Howard the Duck anyway, always jumping in water.”

  Before Jessie could answer, a group of men came up to their table and stood watching them argue. He’d seen them enter, spot them and start over, threading their way through the tables. Jessie had already dropped a hand to his holster, expecting trouble or a greeting party. He was ready for either.

  “Jessie Meadows?” their spokesman asked.

  “Yes.” he answered, leaning a little so he could pull his gun faster if it came to that.

  The men were armed but their weapons were holstered. Most of the men in the restaurant weren’t and these three looked like guards or law enforcement types. Fairly clean cut, shaven or close-cropped beards, all with unmarked, off the shelf uniforms that probably came from a Walmart. Their spokesman introduced them as members of the civil guard, welcomed them to the island and asked if they’d accompany him to meet with the Director.

  “Be happy to.” Jessie said and left Lakota Gold on the table as payment. “Lead the way.”

  They were ushered into the old court house and waited while the spokesman disappeared down a hallway. Jessie was little surprised at the line of people queued up at one of the counters, filing paperwork and getting forms stamped.

  “What’s that all about?” he asked one of the armed men standing with them. “Is that a tax office? Y’all still filing for permits and licenses and stuff?”

  “Of course.” The escort said. “How else would we know what is happening? Rule of law must be enforced or we wouldn’t have order.”

  He glanced disapprovingly at Scarlet. He’d heard what she’d done to Black Tooth Billy at the boarding house. He’d come over straight away and lodged a complaint, wanted the crazy girl charged with assault and battery, threatening a person of means and interference with a lawful business transaction. The Director happened to be passing by, had realized who the boy was and sent his men to bring them back. He needed to meet this Road Angel, this emissary from Lakota, to see what he wanted, how he knew where they were. There wasn’t a single working Ham or CB radio anywhere on the island. Or rather, there wasn’t supposed to be. Things had been too lax under the old director. He’d implemented sweeping new changes when he took over. To keep everyone safe, of course. They couldn’t have any raiders or marauders over hearing conversations and coming to attack. They couldn’t have any spies letting outsiders know of their strengths and weaknesses. If someone was hiding a two-way radio, if someone was endangering them all, there was going to be hell to pay.

  He regularly debunked the Lakota broadcasts, calling them fake reports. The Islands government was only doing what was best, he told them. There wasn’t some Road Angel out saving the day. Radio drama at its finest, nice to listen to as entertainment but nothing more. It was just some guy who probably got lucky a time or two and got the big head, thought he was a hero and went around making up stories. Probably paid people to say how great he was. Nobody was doing as good as that Bastille guy bragged about. There weren’t a hundred different fortified settlements, all of them doing well and trading with each other. In his opinion, they were probably making everything seem wonderful so more towns would contact them and then they would start charging taxes or demanding supplies. The Island was pretty self-sufficient with the fish farms and green houses, they couldn’t afford to give any of it away. When they got a chance, they might send someone down to check Lakota out, see if anything they said was true. That would have to wait, though. There were too many much more pressing things to do at the moment. That’s what he thought and he wasn’t shy about telling people either. The Directors job was to take care of his town so he did. The people needed order, structure and discipline. It was for the good of all.

  Jessie and Scarlet were ushered in a few minutes later, greeted warmly and offered comfortable chairs. The Director listened to Jessies little spiel he had given dozens of times about the new Union of settlements and Lakota’s rebuilding efforts, about the trade routes and pledges of mutual support. The Director nodded in all the right places, politely answered a few general questions but avoided most. He was smooth, affable and friendly. He never answered a direct question, instead he would deflect by asking one of his own, moving the subject matter in a different direction. The meeting was short, they were thanked warmly for stopping by and he would carefully consider everything they had to say. He’d be in touch soon. Thank you and have a safe journey. Did they need to resupply before they left? He’d have his men give them what they needed.

  They rode in silence for a few minutes, the steel wall disappearing in the rear-view mirror.

  “Is it always like that?” Scarlet asked, stroking the cat in her lap. “They didn’t seem very friendly, really.”

  “No.” Jessie answered after a long pause, considering the reception and quick ejection they’d been given. “I get the feeling it’s a little dictatorship going on. The Director has control and doesn’t want to give any of it up or lose any of his people. I’ve seen a few places like that, some survivalists out in Oregon had some guy ruling over them, not wanting to give up any power.”

  “Did you kill him and install a new leader?” Scarlet asked

  “What? No!” Jessie said, not sure if she was kidding. “I just showed them a better way, let them decide how to go forward. I’m not a cop, I can’t fix everyth
ing that’s wrong in the world. I’m supposed to be neutral. You can’t just go around killing everybody you don’t like.”

  Scarlett nodded. “Yes.” she said. “That way doesn’t work. I spent most of my life in the Middle East and Northern Africa at different dig sites. That is the way in many of those countries. If you don’t like someone, kill them. If you are cheating on your husband, they half-bury you and throw rocks until you are dead. If you are gay, they throw you off the roof. If your sister has disgraced the family, it is honorable to kill her. All that does is create a grudge that must be avenged and it never ends. It is good that you turn your eyes away when you see wrong. That you don’t try to fix it.”

  Jessie frowned at her. Her logic was skewed. He didn’t turn his back on people in need. Did he? He turned up the radio so he wouldn’t have to listen to her and hoped he wouldn’t regret letting her ride with him.

  65

  Eustice

  Dani had picked up a following of stumblers that just showed up out of nowhere, trudging down the middle of the county road miles from any town. Something had got them moving, chasing a truck most likely, and they’d been following the road for weeks or months. They were a sorry looking bunch and he ran them down, putting them out of their misery. The bodies went flying away from the oversized brush guard, broken heaps of discarded humanity splayed out on the roadside. They both grabbed the .22 rifles and went back to finish the job, making sure none of them would pose a crawling danger. When the quiet popping of the rifles was over they took off again following the directions scribbled in the notebook.

  The first airport they went to was a bust. One of the early spring tornados had come through and torn things up. Most of the planes weren’t totaled, they were still tied down, but blowing debris had done damage to them. Eustice passed on all of them but took some notes, just in case they didn’t find anything better. They found the next little airport a half hour later, just like the truckers had described it. A grass runway, a tower and snack bar, an above ground fuel tank, a few open hangers and a handful of small planes tethered to the ground. Some under roof, some out in the open. Dani had brought extra batteries, a portable air compressor, various hand tools and starting fluid. It had been nearly a year and storms that spawned the tornado a few counties over had blown through. The hard freeze in January and no human activity to keep the rodents at bay had also taken its toll. Most of aircraft hadn’t been winterized, it was too early in the year when the outbreak happened. Out of the twenty odd planes, Eustice was only familiar with a handful of them. He could probably figure the others out but he was a careful and methodical man. He wasn’t as reckless as he once was and didn’t want to try to learn how to fly a model that he didn’t have at least a little seat time.

  He’d flown crop dusters mostly and had worked for an outfit flying hunters in and out of the wilds of Canada in seaplanes for a few seasons but he was only comfortable on the old manual planes. The simple one’s barnstormers used to fly and everything was done manually. Fly by cables, not computers.

  Their choices kept getting fewer and fewer with each inspection as they found winter or storm damage, torn wings or mouse nests under the dash and the chewed-up wires that were inevitable with the little rodents. It wasn’t looking too good for the Lakota Air Force when Eustice closed the bonnet on an old Cessna.

  “Not a drop of oil in it.” he said and sighed. “We could probably get one running but this isn’t going to be an easy run like we’d hoped. How far to the other airport?”

  “Let’s check that hanger way over there.” Dani said, pointing across the runway to the far side of the field near some obviously junked planes. “Looks like a maintenance bay, we might get lucky.”

  They drove over and it was still shut up tight, still had something hungry inside when Dani banged on the door. They listened to the thing pounding on the metal, smelling them now and desperate for blood. It sounded like there was only one but it sounded angry and fast. It had been out of the weather and away from the carrion animals that used them as easy meals when nothing else was available.

  “Let’s grab that landing gear.” Eustice said when Dani made ready to just open the door and blast the thing as it came out. “If there’s a good plane in there, we don’t need to shoot it up.”

  “Good idea.” he said and helped the old man drag the tire and all the tubing still attached to it a few feet in front of the door.

  Dani stood behind the makeshift barrier and readied his gun as Eustice jerked the metal door wide, ducking out of sight behind it. The creature lunged out, arms reaching, keening and screaming in hunger and ran straight for Dani. It slammed into the wheel then tumbled to the ground, still clawing and gnashing. Dani put two rounds into its head from his Beretta and the world grew quiet again.

  They waited, listening for the answering cries of other undead but there were only the bird songs starting up again after a few moments. When they stepped inside, Eustice got a big grin on his face and Dani knew they’d found something good. He wasn’t sure what but the pleased look said it was something really good.

  “What we have here” Eustice said admiring the big airplane that still had its engine covers laying on the ground “Is a soviet era Antonov multi use heavy duty biplane.”

  “What’s a Russian plane doing here?” Dani asked still looking for any of the undead lurking around.

  “You’ll find these all over the world.” Eustice said, slowly walking around the big plane. “They were in production for nearly fifty years. They’ve been used by various armies, they’ve been mail planes, passenger planes to remote areas and bush pilots love ‘em because they can take off and land anywhere. This one looks like it’s been rigged for firefighting, it’s got the forest service stickers on it.”

  “That’s cool.” Dani said. “But can you fly it?”

  Eustice’ grin got even bigger. “Son, I cut my teeth on a plane real similar to this. It’s old, it’s slow and it’s simple but they’re damn near indestructible. Think of it like you would an AK-47. Antique design, not real pretty, too heavy, out dated technology but it just keeps on going. That’s why Charlie loved ‘em. Hell, you can cram a ham sandwich into the bolt carrier and it’ll still keep shooting. This old plane is built the same way.”

  He pointed at the engine covers that were off and the oil pan on the concrete under the nine-cylinder engine.

  “Looks like they were doing routine maintenance. I’ll bet my slice of cherry pie your grandma packed that it’s flight logs are current up until last year.”

  “So, we’ve got an Air Force?” Dani asked, “Cool. I want to be your first trainee.”

  66

  Jessie

  Scarlet had the maps out and they were following her plan since Jessie couldn’t think of any good arguments against it. They were going to chart the eastern border of the New America, the Mississippi river. Captain Wilson and his teams had gone out months ago, shortly after the last battle of Lakota, to blow all the bridges crossing the muddy water. It was a desperate move but something had to be done to stop the hundred million undead from the East Coast cities from migrating west. The river was wide and swift, without the bridges the zombies were contained and couldn’t overrun the central States. They were planning to follow the river from its headwaters in northern Minnesota all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico, avoiding the big cities, of course. With an actual destination in mind, they made good time into the driftless areas where deep valleys, wide rivers and tall trees dominated the landscape. By the time they’d crossed out of North Dakota following route two, they needed to stop somewhere and get a chainsaw. The grass lands and fields of the plains gave way to pine trees and forests. A storm had blown through sometime in the past nine months and billboards and fallen trees lay across the road in places. Jessie could crunch over the splintered steel and wood from the signs, his run flat tires taking it all in stride. He could winch the few trees that completely blocked the path out of the way but a good saw would
speed things up.

  “There’s a little town coming up.” Scarlet said, studying the map. “It’s big enough to have a hardware store, small enough we can clear it.”

  “All right.” Jessie said “We could use some gas and I’d kill for a Snickers right about now since SOMEBODY ate my last one.”

  “It was good, too.” Scarlet said and smiled sweetly.

  He rolled his eyes and started looking for danger, he could see the houses were getting closer together, a sure sign they were approaching the town. They passed a dairy farm and saw the decomposing corpses of a hundred cows out in the paddocks. They had frozen to death, starved to death or simply died of thirst. Weeds were knee high growing through the asphalt in places, struggling through cracks and claiming the road back. The little village was crawling with the undead, no one had been through to get them started on a chase. There was a reefer truck backed into a restaurant parking lot, the trailer doors still open, the ramp still in place where the driver had been making his early morning deliveries.

  It was easy to imagine how a whole town died. There had been an intentional meat shortage for a few days before the outbreak and when the delivery arrived, the first thing off the truck was probably the breakfast foods. Before the driver could even finish, the first customers had already been served the Haji bacon, had already started to get sick.

  Jessie drove up and down the roads slowly gathering them up. Bob growled a little at first but he wasn’t bothered by them too much. They weren’t in any immediate danger. He watched for a little while, made sure he wasn’t needed, then lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes. Nefertiti hissed quietly from the back deck and watched them closely, the unnatural things setting off all of her alarms, warning her of danger.

 

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