Deadland Saga (Book 3): Deadland Rising
Page 3
Still, I had tried to work out a plan to make it to them. Then the news had come that the military had bombed Des Moines and all other large cities. They never stood a chance. Still, not having the chance to say good-bye—not trying to save them—would be something I would have to live with for the rest of my life.
I sensed someone watching me, and I noticed Clutch sitting in a camp chair. He motioned to the empty chair next to him. I dumped off my bowl and fork and headed to the seat Clutch had saved. I sunk into the seat, and my muscles loosened.
Clutch pointed to the night sky through the open roof. “Looks like we’re going to have quite a full moon tonight.”
I looked upward. The moon seemed as though it was racing to claim the sky, even before the sun relinquished its fleeting hold. “The days are getting too short. Soon the days will be shorter than the nights.”
We sat as darkness bled out from every corner in the building. Small lanterns were lit, and the light licked at the dark. Without any light to mar its beauty, the moon became a brilliant pearl.
With night, came the beasts. The animals that came out of hiding after the zeds migrated. With little to fear, they searched to fill their empty stomachs.
A howl in the distance was returned by another. These weren’t the coyote howls from old westerns. These howls sounded like mad men, as though the demons of the night were cackling at what the world had become, taunting us that humans were no longer the most feared predators on the planet.
The howls had become familiar, but they still unnerved me. Especially when they were the only sound of the night. Trying to ignore the distant wails, I focused intently on the moon. The iridescent pearl was stained by moon spots, and I wondered how each of those scars came to be. I mused if someone on the moon could see similar scars on the earth from all the bombings and fires.
I spoke softly. “Do you think the earth will ever be a place where we can live without fear?”
“Don’t know,” Clutch said. “But if we don’t believe things will get better, why do we keep trying?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I guess you’re right.”
As Clutch dozed off, I pulled out a small mirror and reflected the moonlight in it. The way the light shimmered and reflected in the glass would’ve made a pretty picture, if only I had a working camera. Instead, I focused on remembering this moment. Of the peaceful moonlit night and Clutch at my side.
Moonlight reflected off the stand of mirrors hanging nearby, all containing mirrors identical to the little one I held. A reflection beyond the stand caught my eye. I leaned forward. As I turned the mirror to move the light around, I noticed even more reflections scattered around the dark building.
Griz, nearing the end of his shift, paused to take in the reflections.
One of the reflections blinked.
I clicked the safety off my rifle. “Griz? You see that?”
“Yeah,” he replied as he took a step back and did a three-sixty. “The Humvees. We need to get to them now.”
I nudged Clutch, and he came awake with a deep inhalation. He grunted and rubbed his neck.
I held a finger to my lips. “Sh.”
I could see his frown in the moonlight as he took in the situation. He let out the breath he’d been holding in a rush.
Slowly, I stood and walked over to Jase. A howl from inside the building woke him up before I could get there. Diesel returned with a flurry of barking. Howls surrounded us and echoed off the walls. We’d all heard the howls before.
But never in this great a number.
And never all around us.
Chapter III
“Wolves!” I yelled and yanked Jase and Hali to their feet. “To the trucks!”
We had camped next to the Humvees for easy escape, so we had only a few feet between safety and the pack. However, three feet looked like a mile when countless reflective eyes were racing toward us.
Ever protective of his grandson, Frost already had Benji safely inside the Humvee with a coyote’s head and the words Charlie Coyote painted on the hood and doors.
Deb and Vicki raced to the other Humvee—the one with Betty Bravo, the pinup girl Griz had painted on it—while Marco and Griz fired rounds into the dark, their gunshots echoed by yelps.
When I opened the door of Humvee Charlie, I paused to make sure Jase and Clutch were right behind me, but I found myself shoved onto the backseat, with Clutch landing on top of me and slamming the door closed.
“They’re safe,” he said as I crawled out from under him. I crawled across the backseat and pressed the massive Great Dane to the floor so I had a place to sit. I looked to the other Humvee to see Jase cramming Hali into the front passenger’s seat.
Vicki stood at the door of the other vehicle and fired off shots while Deb climbed inside. When Marco reached Vicki, they quickly disappeared inside, and their doors shut. The last one standing, Griz laid down a burst of automatic fire while Frost pulled Benji onto his lap.
Not far from our vehicle, a wolf tore into one of Benji’s teddy bears. The boy gasped and wagged a finger at the animal. “Bad dog,” he scolded, his voice cracking.
Diesel cringed at the words, and I rubbed the dog’s back. Benji bit back tears. Frost pulled his grandson closer, and Benji tucked his head into the older man’s shoulder.
There had to be hundreds of animals in the store. They leapt over their fallen, trying to reach us. Griz stopped firing, jumped into the driver’s seat, and slammed the door just as a wolf smashed against the metal and glass with a sharp cry. A wet mark of saliva remained on the glass where the wolf had slid off. Another jumped up against my window, startling me.
Diesel growled at the wolves and dogs outside our Humvees, and I rubbed the dog’s fur. “It’s okay. They can’t us get in here.”
Griz started the engine and shifted the truck into gear, which only seemed to drive the pack into more of a fury. The dogs pounded against the sides like hail on glass. Many were sickly and couldn’t jump high. Some could, and their looks of determination scared the hell out of me. Some attacked the dogs nearest to them in their frenzy to get closer.
Griz pulled ahead slowly, keeping an eye on the Humvee next to us. One large but skinny dog managed to leap onto the hood, and it stood there, watching us with bloodshot eyes through the windshield. Its mouth frothed as it bared its teeth. I could hear its growl through the glass.
Griz stepped on the gas pedal, throwing the dog against the windshield, and then slammed the brakes. The dog slid off the hood, trying to claw and scratch to stay on but to no avail.
“Bad meat,” I muttered.
“What?” Clutch asked.
I nodded toward the dog growling at us. “They remind me of the catfish. After eating infected meat, they’re all getting sick and going crazy, like rabid animals.”
Clutch watched the dog and then tilted his head. “Zeds were probably the only food they could find after the zeds killed everything else.”
“Getting bit by one of these would be a bad deal,” Griz added, pulling in behind the other Humvee.
“The zeds are easy prey, and they obviously have no trouble eating them. I wonder why they’re trying to go for us,” I said.
“I’d bet we taste better,” Griz replied.
“Maybe they like the hunt,” Jase said. “We’d be prime rib compared to rotten zed meat.”
“They’re starving,” Frost said. “Most of the zed herds have moved south. And, the dogs can’t get to the zeds stuck indoors. There’s just not enough food left for the number of animals out there.”
Once we were outside the store, the Humvee in front came to a stop, and Griz hit the brakes.
Deb’s voice came over the radio. “I know the plan was to head back to last night’s camp, but we think that might be too close to be safe. Where do you think we should go?”
“Hold on,” Griz replied and threw a quick glance at us. “The only option I see is we drive until we lose our uninvited guests, but it’ll burn through
our gas.”
Clutch nodded. “We’ll get an early start on our day. Drive until we ditch the dogs. Then we come back and look for a truck to transport our remaining supplies. We’ll head back here, load up during the daylight hours, and bug out before the mongrels realize what’s going on.”
Griz got back on the radio. “Coyote will take lead.”
“Okay. We’ll be right behind you.”
Griz stepped on the gas, and the Humvee thumped over several bodies. I cringed. I loved animals, and even though these were after us, I knew they chased us only because they were starving. I hated what had become the way of things now: kill or be killed.
As we weaved around cars and down streets, animals broke off until eventually we were free of the packs. In the morning twilight, we roused zeds in our haste. Unable to get to us, they pounded against windows of the buildings and cars that trapped them, leaving brown streaks on the glass.
After four hours of sunlight, all the remaining snow had melted, leaving the world in its autumn colors once again. We still hadn’t found a truck for the supplies we’d left behind. Every vehicle we checked had either no keys or was wrecked. We tried to jump-start a truck, with no luck. We’d even tried a moving truck that had had a zed inside the cab. The stench was unbelievable. Even if the truck had started, I doubted I could’ve driven it.
We finally gave up and returned to the store. The building left an entirely different impression today. Yesterday, it had represented hope. Today, it represented the fact that nowhere was safe, no matter how carefully we prepared. The world was full of bloodthirsty beasts that would never stop coming.
We rushed to hook up a trailer to one of the Humvees and cram as many supplies, bicycles, and warm gear as we could squeeze into it. Clutch and Griz didn’t enjoy having a trailer hinder our mobility, but they liked the idea of leaving the supplies behind even less. The dogs began showing up again—at first one or two at a time, then a half dozen or more in groups appeared. Clutch latched the trailer door closed. We left the store to the mongrels, and continued our pilgrimage to New Eden.
****
Marco pointed to a dot on the map. “We should try to make it here for tonight. It’s the first exit we can take to where the interstate opens up again. It’s also one of the places New Eden teams stop to refuel and stay when they need a place to crash on overnight trips. There isn’t much in the area, so we’ve never had much of a problem with zeds around there. It’s a good place to stop.”
Clutch examined the map. Griz spoke up first. “How big is that town right there?”
“Three buildings and a gas station,” Marco replied. “They’ve all been cleared, and the building has been fortified. Like I said, it’s a New Eden way station.”
Using my forefinger and thumb, I measured the distance from our current location to the dot Marco had made to mark New Eden on the map. “That’s a heck of a lot of side roads to cover with only a half-day’s worth of sunlight left.”
Marco nodded. “I know, but I’ve been on those roads several times. The route is clear of any roadblocks.”
“And bandits?” I asked.
“The Black Sheep are the biggest threat around here, but we’ve never seen them on those roads. They avoid the Des Moines area. Too many zeds.”
“Not anymore,” I added. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, either.”
“Cash is right,” Clutch said. “Right now, they’re probably as busy searching for food as New Eden is searching for survivors.”
“We’ve been lucky we haven’t run into them already,” Griz said. “I don’t want to stay out in the open.”
“I know,” Marco said. “I want to get back to New Eden as soon as possible.”
“Coffee break’s over. Let’s hit the road,” Clutch said. “If we stop only to look for gas, we shouldn’t have any problem making it sixty klicks in five hours.”
“When did you become Mr. Optimist?” I asked him with a smirk.
“Since I got myself a nice, cozy sleeping bag and pad,” he said as he turned and got behind the wheel of the Humvee with the trailer hooked behind it.
We piled into our vehicles. Marco navigated and we followed, checking in on the radios every ten minutes. Every five minutes, Marco tried to reach New Eden on the radio, but either they’d changed their frequencies, or no one was in the area.
Even with the newfound rarity of zeds, it took us nearly six hours to reach our destination. Twilight had turned to darkness. Marco had us stop next door to the gas station at a restaurant with a sign that read Marcie’s Café: Home of Iowa’s Best Hamburger.
“Mm, a burger sounds good,” Jase said as he clicked on his shiny new headlamp and stepped out of our Humvee.
I turned on my headlamp and followed. I pointed to the sign on the glass door. “I think I’ll have the special.”
Jase gave me a look of disgust. “Meatloaf? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“You’d love my mother’s meatloaf,” Clutch said as he walked past us and stepped up to the door next to Marco, who had pulled out a key hidden in the doorframe.
I shrugged at Jase. A movement in the distance caught my eye, and I squinted. “Um, guys?”
They turned, their lights blinding me.
Clutch spoke first. “What is it?”
I fidgeted. “Well, I…I swear I just saw a nun crossing the road.”
Clutch frowned, and Jase smirked. “Is that a start of one of your lame jokes?”
I shook my head. “And she didn’t look infected.”
Their gazes—and headlamps—moved to the paved road we’d driven a few minutes earlier. I pointed to where I’d seen the woman, but saw nothing. “My eyes must’ve been playing tricks on me,” I muttered.
Then, our lights fell on her. Sure as shit, a nun wearing full habit was standing next to a tree watching us. She shielded her eyes. “No need to blind me,” she grumbled.
“Are you alone?” Clutch asked quickly as we all raised our guns.
“You don’t have to worry about me none,” she said as she hustled toward us. “I was just on my way back to Connie’s for the night. You should get yourselves inside. It’s less safe after dark.”
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Clutch commanded. “And walk slowly.”
“Can you at least turn down those lights?” she replied. “I can’t see a thing with them pointed at my eyes like that.”
“We will once we know you don’t mean to do us harm,” Clutch retorted.
“Heavens, do I look like I can do you harm?”
“So you say,” Clutch whispered softly. He didn’t lower his weapon.
I scanned the area but saw no movement.
The nun stopped. “I figured you must be with New Eden since you knew where the key was.”
Marco frowned. “We are, but I’ve never seen you around here before.”
“Connie and I were staying at her house; it’s about fifteen miles southwest of here. However, we couldn’t stay there anymore. We were out looking for a new home when we ran into a few nice fellows from New Eden. They offered to give us a lift to New Eden, but we preferred to stay out here.” She pointed. “They dropped us off at the house down the road, and so here we are.”
Clutch edged closer to Marco and whispered, “What do you think? She telling the truth?”
Marco shrugged. “She could be. We’ve cleared several houses, including the one she’s in, for survivors we find but don’t come to New Eden. Either by their choice or by ours.”
The woman motioned to the café behind us. “Are you staying there tonight?”
Clutch kept watching Marco.
“I think she’s telling the truth,” Marco replied.
Clutch turned to face the woman. “We are.”
“It’s cold out. Connie and I don’t have much for food to offer, but we still have a bit from what the nice fellas from New Eden left us. We also have a fire to keep you warm tonight. The house is quite safe. All the windows are covered. N
othing can see the fire from outside.”
Clutch glanced at me, and I gave a small nod. He, too, seemed to be considering her words. She looked trustworthy enough. She was a nun, for Christ’s sake—or at least dressed like one. However, that didn’t mean I was going to blindly follow her.
I spoke quietly to Clutch. “If there are only two of them like she says, we have them outnumbered.”
Clutch nodded and replied quietly. “They know about us already. I’d like to find out more about them. If anything sets off our instincts, we’ll be better equipped to deal with it.”
Clutch looked across all our faces. When he looked at Deb, he nodded. “We’ll take you up on the offer. But, we’ll provide dinner for you two tonight.”
That Clutch had offered dinner didn’t surprise me. A small part of it was to make it a fair trade, but a much larger part was because Clutch didn’t trust other people’s food, not unless he watched them prepare it.
She smiled. “It’s settled then. You can park in the driveway, and I’ll let Connie know.” Without waiting for a response, she hustled up the street toward the lone house to the north of the café.
Clutch motioned us together as if we were a football team in a huddle. “We play it safe,” he said. “Keep your eyes open and your ears peeled. Just because we’re taking her up on her offer of hospitality doesn’t mean we should trust her. No risks.”
When we reached the two-story brick house, the nun and another woman stood on the front porch. As we approached, they introduced themselves.
“I’m Sister Donaldson, but all my friends call me Picadilly. And this is Connie.”
I stood, frozen. Memories flooded forward as I recalled a good friend talking about his sister, a nun who’d always gone by her nickname, Picadilly. “You…had a brother named Wes?” I asked, already knowing there could be no coincidence.
Picadilly’s eyes widened. “Yes. Are you from this area? Have you seen him?”