“Perhaps the leader of our undefeatable army should try a different approach. Devise better plans.” High Priest Charles suggested, his chubby fingers folded under his chin. Ricketts couldn’t remember which exact title he’d been granted, the Grand High Poohbah of Butt Crack Buggery or something. He just knew the repugnant, ass kissing, brown nosing bastard had a habit of stabbing people in the back. He had been a Minister of the Crown, or so he claimed, that had been in one of the many towns they had assimilated in Canada. He wanted his friends and toadies to sit at the inner circle table. He couldn’t come up with any ideas of his own but he was quick to point out everyone else’s shortcomings.
Ricketts wasn’t worried about him; the liver lipped butt kisser had only weaseled his way up the chain of command a few months ago. Ricketts been there since the beginning. He, Doc Stevens and Professor Harrison had started this whole movement, his position was secure, he assured himself. Lord Anubis wouldn’t turn against his earliest and most loyal follower. He wasn’t like Scarlet, he wasn’t a traitor.
Months ago, in the first dark weeks after the undead uprising, before they achieved the success they had and were just dreaming, Ricketts the security guard, Dr. Stevens the scientist and Professor Harrison the Egyptologist had gotten drunk on wine and discussed their future. The world was their oyster if they would but take it.
“The masses like to be poor and subjugated.” Stevens said. As a scientist, he prided himself for being an atheist. He looked down on all religions as a crutch for the ignorant.
“Look at the devout in third world countries.” he said. “They’re on the verge of starvation, their children have no shoes, but give their money to men wearing gold rings on every finger and have diamond encrusted shoelaces. Religion is the opium of the masses, as Mr. Marx famously said.”
“Our religion will be better than all of the rest.” Harrison insisted. “Because we can perform miracles and show proofs like the Christian god. We’ll conquer with the sword like the Muslim god. We’ll be like the god of the internet and give them what they want. Sex, sex and more sex. It’ll be the second coming of Anubis, it all makes sense when you consider the world has been destroyed by the undead. The jackal headed god was the Lord of the Underworld. What’s old is new again and this religion is one of the oldest in the world. The people will believe.”
“They need to be controlled.” Ricketts had said. “My uniform gives me the illusion of authority. Sometimes I would order people around just to see how far I could push it and they always responded. Even if they got mad, they were always a little afraid. I’m a nobody, just a guy with a flashlight, a nameplate and a tin badge. We need a martial atmosphere that will cause fear if they resist but offer rewards to be a part of it. A militant religion like the Knights Templar or the Nazi’s.”
They had done it. They had created a new religion using bits and pieces from others and making up what they wanted. It had worked, people believed and they had devout followers. The problem with the Americans was twofold, though. In the more pragmatic and sober meetings with his mostly Canadian lieutenants, they had discussed why the conquering of the States wasn’t working according to plan. For one, the Americans naturally fought back. With their ridiculously outdated Declaration of Independence, they thought they were all created equal. With all their guns, they thought they could back up that belief with force. They had bad attitudes and rallying cries like “Remember the Alamo” or “Come and Take it.”
One of the first strongholds they had taken in northern Minnesota had been a blood bath. Most of the townspeople had died and he’d lost a lot of men, too. Ricketts had them completely surrounded, outnumbered and outgunned. When one of his officers demanded they surrender, their leader had shouted down from the top of the wall.
“We’ve got a saying here in Lancaster.” he spat.
“Yeah? What’s that?” the Lieutenant had asked
“Fuck you.” the man said and opened fire.
The second problem was the Movement wasn’t saving anyone anymore.
In the beginning, they had food and shelter and safety in numbers and of course all the other perks to offer. People flocked to them merely to survive. Now it was different. The only thing they had to offer was some “new age druggie sex cult” as they’d heard themselves described on radio Lakota. When people are safe behind walls, have plenty to eat and don’t need anyone to save them, they really take offense when someone tries to. They were having a hard time conquering by the sword because the Americans had swords, too.
Lord Anubis wanted results though and that fat little brown-nosing bastard might whisper enough in his ear to get him replaced. Ricketts couldn’t have that. Getting replaced meant getting dead most of the time.
“Actually, we have come up with something.” he replied, plunging forward with his ideas. He didn’t like it, would have rather have someone else present them, but his hand had been forced. He tried to hide his glare and addressed the dark Lord, ignoring the smarmy, sausage fingered prick.
“We can no longer force people to join us.” he said. “Everything is different now, we have to lead them to us, encourage them to join willingly.”
“That will take too long.” the Poohbah of Butt Crack said dismissively. “We have the armies of the undead and the soldiers of Anubis under our command. We have the mightiest men and a nearly unkillable army and you’re telling me we can’t take over these towns defended by a handful of men?”
“Of course, we can.” Ricketts answered, seething but trying not to let it show. The fat little jerk was Harrison’s favorite at the moment. “But the whole idea is not to kill everyone. If we go in by force, we’ll lose half the town and all of the survivors will plot ways to take revenge.”
“Nonsense.” the Butt Crack Poohbah said. “You simply have to show them who’s in charge. They’ll fall in line just like all of the towns we control now.”
“This isn’t Canada!” Ricketts said, heat in his voice. “Americans are a bunch of stiff necked people, it’s in the culture. All of the weak ones are dead, the only ones left are the toughest and smartest. The winter famines killed more Canadians than the zombies did. When we rolled into your towns, we were seen as saviors for the most part. The Americans don’t see us like that. They’ve been fighting back, and winning, if you haven’t noticed. Yes, we can take their towns but we can’t hold them. We’d have to leave an occupying force in every stronghold.”
“We have the Army of Anubis!” the fat man shot back. “What good is having an undead army at your disposal if you can’t figure out some way to use it?”
“Have you seen the undead out there?” Ricketts was getting pissed, raising his voice. “They’ve been using trains, leading them out to the desert to wither away in the heat and up north until they freeze. The hordes that are left are pathetic. They’ve been out in the elements for nearly a year, they can hardly walk. It would take a month to lead a horde into any of the bigger settlements, they’ve been killing them by the thousands. In most of the towns, it’s safe to go outside the walls, as long as you stick pretty close.”
“Excuses.” the poohbah said and sat back in his chair. “All I hear is excuses from a man who doesn’t know how to do his job.”
“ENOUGH!” Lord Anubis shouted and everyone immediately fell silent.
“You bicker like children. It’s tiresome. High Priest, can you give me the cities that are mine by right? Can you deliver them into my hand?”
“Of course, your eminence.” he said with an obsequious half bow from his chair.
“Then do it.” Anubis decreed. “You are now the chief of my armies. Give me what is mine and you will be rewarded.”
He stood to make his departure and everyone left their chairs to take a knee and bow their heads as their god-king was escorted out by his concubines, his golden robes swishing.
Ricketts was the last to leave and join the banquet. He wasn’t even sure if he would be allowed to enter the Hall of the Royals, he’d just
been fired. He wasn’t the brightest guy in the world but he’d really applied himself, had done his best to help build the Anubis Army. He’d been instrumental in achieving the success they had and it had all been tossed aside because of some smooth-talking politician. He would never be able to deliver, all he would do was get half the army killed and the other half would have to be used as an occupying force. They’d never take Lakota or Tombstone or even Blackfoot. Mr. Smarmy pants probably wouldn’t even be able to take the small enclaves in Nebraska or the Dakota’s. Ricketts decided to watch the train wreck, let the chips fall where they may and be there to pick up the pieces. He’d keep a low profile and watch. He’d swallow his pride and kiss up to the Butt Crack Poohbah and he’d have the last laugh yet.
48
The Tower
Jimmy couldn’t hardly believe his eyes. Even before the fall, he’d never seen anything like the Tower. The Sisters at the orphanage had taken them on field trips and he’d even been to a shopping mall once but that was nothing compared to the Tower mall. It had a huge water fountain, a roller rink, an ice cream shop, stores with all kinds of brand new clothes and the whole front of the building was a window looking out over the ocean even though he’d seen what was really out there, about a thousand zombies. There were lending libraries that had games and DVD’s and the video arcade took the card to play so he had to be careful not to spend all his money. Everywhere he looked was something new and incredible to see. What made it even better was he actually had money to spend! More than he’d ever had in his life!
They explored for hours and still didn’t see everything. The man in the gym let them goof around on the exercise equipment since it was the middle of the day and the place was mostly empty. He had a hundred questions for them, he’d never been outside the Tower since the zombies came. He explained that most of the equipment was hooked up to the power grid. By using the treadmills or lifting weights on the weird looking machines, they were actually helping power the system, they were charging the reserve batteries. The windows actually did most of the charging, the attendant admitted when Jimmy asked how much he’d added after a few minutes of riding the bicycle. They were all solar smart glass that charged all day and along with the hydroelectric generators in the river, the geothermal tubes sunk deep in the earth and wind turbines on the surrounding mountains, they never had to worry about running out of power.
“Even when you walk in the main shopping district, the floor panels help with the charging.” he explained.
It wasn’t often he had an inquisitive new mind ask him questions and he was eager to answer. Plus, he would actually have a story to tell later on when he got together with his buddies at the bowling alley. He’d talked to some people who had been outside, had actually seen zombies up close and had killed some. His buddies were going to be so jealous.
They’d arrived early in the morning and after they’d been checked in through security, Hot Rod explained that James Robert Jones was their best Bradley operator and he and Antonio were going to stay on to be instructors. Captain Macon had given them each a credit chip, a card with an advance on their first week’s salary. They were rich! They were going to stay in the Tower until the next convoy came in a few weeks with more ammo, supplies and trade goods and they were getting paid to help train the men. They were given a small room to share but it had its own bathroom, much better than anything he’d had at the orphanage. Best of all, they were being treated like grownups. Hot Rod had told the Captain of the guard how they’d saved the day in Tombstone, without them all those refugees would have surely been killed and the town most likely would have been overrun by the thousands of undead. They didn’t even have to go to school! Well, they sorta did but they were the teachers this time. It was going to be great. Meanwhile, they had movies to see, candy to sample, banana splits to devour and money burning holes in their pockets.
“That’s quite a tale.” Captain Macon said and topped off Hot Rod’s cup.
He nodded his appreciation. This was a rare luxury and the fact that he, a truck driver, was even being offered any showed him how much they appreciated the Bradley delivery. He knew from the hour he spent gawping like a tourist in the mall upstairs they were drinking from the Captain’s private stash, probably his last. The Starbucks was closed and the cafés had ‘temporarily unavailable’ by the coffee on the menu.
“They did it though. First, they kept everyone supplied in bullets during the battle for Lakota then saved the day by hijacking the Bradley in Tombstone. They sure as hell aren’t like the kids before the fall. They have really stepped up an shown a lot of initiative. They’ll save your men days of book reading, those two can get them up to speed in a couple of hours.”
“That’ll be good.” Macon answered, adding a little sugar to his own cup. “We start training first thing in the morning. I have a team already building mounts on the roof for the TOW missiles, we’ll be able to cover all avenues of approach. I think we’re going to leave the tank on the far side of the river. If anyone does attack, it will be from that side. All the undead beating on the shudders upstairs makes for a pretty good deterrent on this side.”
They talked for another hour before Hot Rod said they really needed to get going if they were going to make it over the mountain before dark. Trade lists were swapped and he noted with a chuckle that coffee was right at the top and circled in red.
“Yeah,” Macon smiled back at him. “The retrievers have cleaned out all the stores around here. There’s a thousand caffeine addicted tech-nerds in this building. I thought we were going to have a riot when Starbucks had to close. Our CEO became a lot more open to trade after that. We’re fairly self sufficient but when we do need something, we need a truck load of it, not what Darren and William can get from Albertsons.”
“We’ve got the route mapped out now.” Hot Rod said. “It won’t take nearly as long next time.” They’d had to double back once when a large section of forest had been burnt and the rains that had put it out caused a landslide. A whole section of road, maybe a half mile long, was covered in burnt stubs of trees and tons of dirt. They’d also spent some time clearing out a truck stop that was still over run, leading the zombies away and running them down so they could get fuel.
For their return trip, they were only taking a few insignificant looking pieces of machinery back with them but they were just samples. With them, Lakota would know exactly what to send retrievers after, the correct model numbers, the proper cords and the other accessories. With the right equipment and the proper hookups, they would be able to have face to face meetings with the Tower. Until Lakota got hooked into fiber optic cables it might not be the best connection using the cell network but at least they would have access to the doctors and other professionals. It was a start and it would take a lot of pressure off of the SS sisters if they could consult with a real doctor when needed.
Jimmy and Tony were fat and happy. They’d seen a double feature in an air-conditioned theater and bought dinner at the McDonalds in the food court. Even though it was a veggie burger, it still tasted good and they had so much ice cream they almost couldn’t finish it. Almost. They’d both be content to stay at the tower forever. They even went to a play just to see what it was all about and it turned out to be Driving Miss Daisy. It was different but they both thought it was pretty good. It was late by the time they took the elevator down to the bottom level where their room was but neither boy was tired. They were wired on excitement and sugar. The lights were low to conserve power and they were the only ones still awake it sounded like. They walked right past their room and kept on going. A couple of wide awake kids in a strange new place didn’t even consider going to bed. There were things to see and places to explore.
Their rooms were in the workers quarters, the “Blue Collar” area of the building that was the first level underground. They didn’t have a window or even one of those fake windows where you could change the picture but it was safe and secure. Warm in the winter and co
ol in the summer. That was all that mattered to the men and women who kept the Tower running, kept the gardens growing, tended the animals and cleaned the offices after business hours.
The apartment level was boring. Just corridors with doors.
“Let’s check out that solar power stuff.” Jimmy said. “The gym guy said it’s in the basement. There’s gotta be a different elevator going down.”
They found it but their cards wouldn’t open the doors but that wasn’t a deterrent. They were twelve years old. They didn’t take that as an indication that maybe they weren’t allowed to be down there, they looked at it as a challenge.
“Staircase.” Tony said. “There’s gotta be one somewhere.”
They searched up and down the hallways but only found the clearly marked ones that went up. They checked every elevator and a few had buttons for B2 and B3 but their cards wouldn’t work on those either. This only peaked their interest even more.
“Curiouser and Curiouser.” Jim said, quoting one of the books the Nuns had read to them during story hour. Alice in Wonderland had been one of his sisters’ favorites. Happy thoughts of her always turned to dark images though so he put her out of his mind as fast as he could. He didn’t want to remember looking for her head in the bloody pile. He didn’t want to remember the man with the scraggly beard who had done it. Jimmy hoped he died of infection from the bite he gave him when he got away. He could still taste the salty blood in his mouth when he thought about it. He shook his head, pushing the memory away. They had things to do, a mission to complete, an adventure to be had and dwelling on the past wouldn’t do any good.
They found what they were looking for at the very end of the building. A single locked door with “Maintenance Access” and “Authorized Personnel Only” stenciled on it. It didn’t have a card reader. It was old school security with a lock that required an actual key.
Zombie Road (Book 5): Terror On The Two-Lane Page 29