Dust of the Devil's Land

by Bryan Killian

  ***

  A few weeks ago

  Rain fell as Yonkey continued his trek north out of the city towards open country. He stuck to small side streets and open fields, allowing him to remain as far from populated areas as possible. He was no longer concerned with the military; they were busy trying to clean up the Convention Center, or what was left of it. The firefight at the Center continued longer than Yonkey thought possible. The gunshots faded as he put distance between him, and what he knew to be certain death. He thought of heading to one of the big lakes north of Redding. Whiskeytown Lake, a man-made lake with two small marinas, or Shasta Lake, complete with multiple houseboats docked at three different marinas year round. He decided on Shasta, even though it was further away. He made it as far as Hill Lane and Market Street, near the north end of town, when he came across Sly and Giant.

  “I’ve always wanted one of these,” Giant yelled back to Sly as she loaded more goods into the bed of their truck.

  “We really need to get going. I don’t want to be out after dark. Papi radioed and said the fighting stopped at the Convention Center, so stop your car shopping and let’s go.”

  “We have a problem,” Giant stated in a flat monotone voice with his hands above his head.

  “You had to come over to this car. Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?” Yonkey stood with his shotgun leveled at Giant’s head. Giant unknowingly surprised him when he simply walked over to an abandoned BMW M5.

  Sly dropped the two tents she was loading into the truck bed, and drew her Glock 17 9mm. She raised her weapon and walked directly towards Yonkey and Giant.

  “We don’t have to do this. We just need a few things from that truck and we’ll be on our way. We’re not military if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Military or not, I’m probably dead. So this is how it’s gonna be. I’m going to back away and you can continue to take whatever you want. I just want to leave. I have nothing on me that is of use to you.” Yonkey’s hands trembled. He was tired, hungry, and in need of some good gloves. His hands were burning from the cold. The wind picked up and the rain turned to sleet.

  “Brother, we have no beef with you,” Giant stated in the same soulless voice he had used earlier. “You raised your weapon on me. I’m just trying to survive another day. You feel me?”

  “I feel you. I’m just going to back away.” Yonkey began stepping back from the hulking figure called Giant. His eyes shifted between the mountain of a man and the woman to his right, aiming a handgun directly at his head. He knew the girl had skills, and was fooling himself if he thought he could get the jump on her. His path of least resistance was the path he just traveled.

  Giant looked over at Sly. She winked. Giant looked back to Yonkey and stated, “you could come with us or die out here, your choice. We have a secure place, plenty of food and water and even a nice place to sleep. Real mattresses.”

  Yonkey froze looking Giant dead in the eye, said, “I raised my weapon at you and you invite me to come along with you. Why?”

  “You’re a survivor. In or out? We leave in two minutes. It’s the same deal for all survivors we come across,” Giant explained, making sure each word came out slowly and clearly, with no emotion, as he stared down the barrel of the 12-guage.

  Sly holstered her Glock and returned to the overturned truck. She continued busying herself with supplies from the truck and trailer that had been carrying sporting goods destined for several big chain stores along the I-5 corridor.

  “We’re good. Load up,” Sly exclaimed as she walked by the two men.

  Yonkey lowered the shotgun, watching Sly enter the black Chevy crew cab through the driver’s side. “Are you guys for real?”

  “Like I said, we have safety, food and shelter. We hide from the zombies and the army. We survive. We only fight when needed. In or out Army boy?”

  “How do you know I was military?”

  “I can smell it on you.” Giant walked around to the passenger side of the truck. He opened the door, sliding his bulk into the passenger seat just as Yonkey slid into the seat behind him.

  “I’m in. Can’t be any worse than this.”

  “Ha. We are living in Hell my friend. Worse is for believers. Our fates are sealed, it’s just a matter of when.” Giant looked over to Sly as he spoke. She ignored him, maneuvering the truck slowly south on Market St. In the back seat Yonkey stared at the back of Giant’s head. Maybe he’s right. Our fates are sealed and I’m just buying time. For what…

  ***

  The two boys continue running and playing with their paper airplanes. Yonkey skips to the main level coming face to face with Edward. Fucking wonderful.

  “I’ve been looking for you, Stanley.”

  I bet you have you.

  “We have new guests arriving with the squad.” Edward states the last part using air quotes.

  “Ok, so where do you want me to put them?”

  “Place them on the third level just down from my quarters,” Edward points to the east end of the third level.

  “I can put them outside of 306. How many?”

  “Two boys. Anderson said they’re eleven and thirteen. They will need food and a change of clothes if we have any. If not, see to it their clothes are washed immediately. We don’t need lice or any other bugs spreading through here.”

  Yonkey squints his eyes at the thought of two boys being placed near Edward. He’s always a bit too attentive to children. He’s watched Edward watch the twins and it makes him feel uneasy. Now he will have two new boys near him. Yonkey wants to talk to McCaw but knows his suspicions would be dismissed as just that, suspicions. He’d have to keep an eye on the new guests and keep Edwards busy, which meant talking to him frequently, fuck!

  CHAPTER 16.

  Arrived

  There is sound, barely audible, but increasing. Crunching and rolling, crunching and rolling, it sounds like a car driving over gravel. It reminds Roger of the parking lot at the baseball field, where he and Brett played league ball the last two years. Voices. He can’t understand what’s being said around him but he knows people are speaking. He can hear Brett’s voice, providing some comfort. Every time he attempts to open his eyes, spears of pain shoot straight through his brain. At one point there was some commotion, some yelling and it felt like they were traveling at a high rate of speed. He remembers a passing train, or he was passing the train. It doesn’t make any sense and he can no longer hold his eyes open. He drifts away again to his happy place. A place where he can play whatever game on whatever game console he wants.

  “Roger, wake up. We’re here.”

  The fog enveloping Roger’s mind begins to lift. The voice is familiar and it’s interrupting the best game of Black Ops II he has ever played or thought he had ever played. In reality, Roger never had the chance to play the game, though he was sure it was going to be a Christmas or birthday gift. His last birthday passed by without any presents, well wishes, dumb cards or any fanfare for that matter, just the dead wandering nearby, serenading him to sleep.

  Is it my birthday…

  Roger’s eyes pop open, but the sudden rush of light shuts them instantly. His head pounds on the side where Giant struck him.

  “Keep your eyes closed for a few more minutes sweetheart, we’ll walk you inside. Can you walk?” Sly asks softly.

  Sly’s voice washes over Roger. He heard Brett’s voice and now hers. This tells him he isn’t back in his neighborhood, in the safety of the tree house. He is more than likely at a location that will get him or Brett killed. But her voice, it’s calming and seems to make everything better.

  “I can walk. My head hurts and I feel dizzy. Why…why are my hands cuffed?” Roger leans forward, his head bumps the back of the passenger seat in front of him. He squints at the handcuffs, the memory of threatening the occupants of the truck rushes back causing his head to throb even more. “Where are we, Brett?”

  “The Atrium, like they said. We don’t have to stay but yo
u should have your head looked at and we can eat. We can even take a shower here. It may not be all that bad,” Brett’s boyish enthusiasm shines through as he explains.

  “How far are we from home?” Roger asks stepping from the truck. He looks for Brett’s shoulder to help steady him.

  “We’re at the downtown mall, next to the ice cream shop. The arcade is still down at the other end,” Brett says while Roger continues swaying slightly. Both boys watch Sly and Giant organize a quick human chain consisting of Atrium residents, in order to unload the truck. In no time the truck is emptied as the conveyor belt of arms swiftly moves case after case, and bag after bag of goods deep into the belly of the Atrium. As the last case of water descends the stairs, Giant squares up with his back to the open large steel doors, taking his watch. Papi paces back and forth slowly, drawing on a cigarette, keeping a suspicious eye on the boys while Sly steps around the human wall, Giant, and smiles brightly at the boys. Brett pays Giant no attention, for he is completely infatuated with Sly. Blonde stands of her hair fall loosely from under the mask resting atop her head, across her light blue eyes. Brett just realized her eyes were blue and makes a mental note, one of many he’d made since meeting the leader of the squad.

  “How’s our patient? Coming around nicely, I see,” Sly says placing a kind hand on Roger’s shoulder. She studies the swelling to his right eye.

  “Can you take these things off now?” Roger holds up his cuffed hands.

  “I don’t see why not. You’re not going to threaten us again are you?” Sly asks with a wink.

  “Shh. Stop your yapping. I smell something,” Papi whispers.

  Sly checks her weapon and walks by Papi as he looks over his shotgun. “Let me handle it. That shotgun will bring them running.”

  “As you wish.” Papi nods his head, motioning Sly to take the lead.

  As she walks to the end of the alley now blocked with a large steel Conex box, Sly asks “Where do you think it’s coming from?” Next to the box sits a forklift. It’s used for moving the box when needed. One end of the box rests firmly against the side of the building while the other sits just inside a large support column for the neighboring parking garage. Barbed wire is strung between the columns, creating a maze of pain and injury. Of course for the dead it was just a nuisance. It isn’t a perfect solution to the problem at hand, but for the most part, it does the trick. An early group of survivors thought of the Conex box and forklift, but did nothing about the open parking structure. The dead walked freely through the garage, up the stairs and straight towards the large glass doors along the west side of the Atrium. The result of the oversight was deadly.

  Sly and Papi step near the box. The smell grows stronger.

  “I thought we led them far enough away.”

  “Quiet, Papi. It’s on the other side of the box. If we just sit tight it will walk away.” The last word slips from Sly’s mouth just as the zombie on the other side of the box slams its decaying fists against the cold steel. The hollow shell resounds against the silent backdrop of the dead city.

  Boom, boom, boom, boom.

  “Shit, kill that thing, Sly, before it brings the rest of Hell here.”

  Sly moves to the end of the Conex box closest to the parking garage. She scales the end with ease, scurries across the top looking down at the harbinger of things to come, and hesitates. The zombie stops banging and looks up at Sly with the same foggy grey eyes she has seen far too many times. She raises the rifle, aims and pulls the trigger. Phht. The head of the zombie, a former city bus driver carrying the extra weight to prove it, remains still as the jacketed hollow point penetrates the front of the skull, spreads out like a mushroom, and exits the rear of the skull in a Pollack-esque display. The zombie drops to the ground, slumping against the side of the Conex box.

  Sly watches the zombie fall. A chill runs up her arm as she thinks for just a moment that the zombie smiled at her. She shakes the absurdity from her mind and scans the streets. Nothing. She raises the scope to her eye, scanning deeper into the surrounding dead streets. Three blocks south several of the zombies they led away from the Atrium have returned. She recognizes them from their clothes, which tells her she has been doing this far too long. They meander about with no noticeable sense of purpose, but continue moving in the general direction of the Atrium. Sly backs up slowly and jumps down from the box.

  “Well?” Papi asks in his typical irritated fashion.

  “They’re coming back,” Sly answers, walking past Papi, heading straight to the command center, also known as Adam McCaw’s office on the third floor. “Three blocks down multiple walkers just strolling slowly towards us. They’re part of the group we led away.” She stops at the rear of the truck

  “Pull the squad together and give them a heads up trouble is coming. Do it quietly and find Yonkey”

  “Yonkey?” Papi interrupts.

  “Do you think we can trust him?” Sly asks, staring Papi in the eye, a practice she knows he hates.

  Papi contemplates the question for a few seconds. “Hmm, I don’t see why not. Former Marine. He can handle a weapon and he can’t stand Ed or Liz. He’s made that abundantly clear with me, which means he can’t be all that bad.”

  “Good. I have a bad feeling about the plan to stay put until this, whatever you want to call it, blows over. Those fucking abominations out there know we’re in here. I don’t know how, but they do. Our little diversions and tricks aren’t working anymore. They’re getting smarter, if that’s even possible. I think it’s only a matter of time, and if Adam and his staff have their way we’ll have to go to committee before anything is done.”

  Papi stands motionless. His inner voice is screaming, she’s correct.

  Sly leans close to Papi whispering in his ear, “We need to be ready to bail if things go bad. It could be in an hour, a day or even a week. I don’t think we have much time beyond that. That means we need to prep a vehicle, have supplies ready to move on the go, have a clear escape route and a back up and most of all, Adam and his lackeys can’t know about it.”

  Papi nods, a furtive smile appearing on his face.

  Roger and Brett remain at the rear of the truck. Roger’s unease returns as he watches Sly move about.

  “Something’s up, Brett. I knew this was bad.”

  “Yep.” Brett’s heart sinks.

  CHAPTER 17.

  Phantom pain

  “I think I can still feel my fingers. So this is phantom pains or limbs.”

  Why are you talking to yourself?

  “I have no one else to talk to. The zombie family over there isn’t good company and you haven’t been around in a while. How’s our boy?”

  He worries about you. You have to leave this place Jack. You have to escape and you have to kill the man above.

  “God?”

  Why do you always joke at times like these?

  Jack stares out into the darkness, not knowing if he is dreaming or awake. He does know Julia is correct. His thoughts return to a jumbled mess of memories, fantasies about his wife, shit days at work and finally the events of the past few weeks. He listens for Julia’s voice, hoping she will speak again, hoping Ronan will finally make an appearance even if it’s only a figment of his imagination. Thoughts of the crawl space rush over the memories playing in his head, prompting him to open his eyes and look out into his cell. The ball gag remains firmly in place, accompanied by severe soreness in his jaw. His current predicament has not changed. He begins the ritual of self-evaluation. He starts at his head working his way down, stopping briefly on his tremendously sore shoulders. His lower back is numb. His mind rests on his arms, and more importantly, his left hand. He closes his eyes, thinking back to the last time the man in white was with him. He remembers feeling more alive than he had in a long while, but can’t remember the trigger. I had a plan…what was my plan? He rolls his head slightly to the side in an effort to stretch his shoulders. In doing so, he shifts his butchered hand slightly. Something feels da
mp, slippery. The plan rushes back into his head. He starts working his hands back and forth. The blood-soaked bandages ooze onto the ropes. Precious blood trickles from the fresh wounds, then began to stream. His thoughts grow foggy.

  This isn’t going to work, Jack.

  CHAPTER 18.

  Short Supervisor

  “I don’t understand. I though you said you led them away from here. Why are they coming back?” Adam McCaw, all 5’8 of him, stands demanding answers from Sly and Giant.

  “I thought we did. We’ve led them further and further away every time. They know we’re in here. It doesn’t matter how far we lead them away, they always make their way back and they always bring more,” Sly pleads her case, masterfully keeping the debate alive, allowing Papi and Craig time to move supplies into position and secure keys for at least two vehicles.

  “How could they know we’re in here? They’re dead. They don’t have thoughts, they just eat. Next time lead them further away. Anderson, who’s on watch right now?”

  Anderson sticks his head in the office. “Del Rio and Sanford are up top right now.”

  “Check in with them and report back to me. I want to know what’s going on out there with the zombies. I hate saying zombies. Feel’s like we’re in a bad movie. Hey, check the electrical, too. I want to know where we’re at with the exterior cameras.” Adam sits back at his desk, looking up at Sly and Giant. “Why are you two still here?”