by Annie Walls
To my surprise, Kale lives in the family building with a girl. I knock on the door and he answers it with shocked eyes, immediately shrinking back a little. His dark hair is longer and he can almost tuck it behind his ears. Hair is in patches on his face like he’s trying to grow a beard.
“Hi Kale. Nice to see you,” I beam at him, and his eyes narrow in suspicion.
He looks behind him. “You’re here to bloody me to a pulp,” he states, matter-of-fact. When Rudy steps into view, well I can always feel Rudy’s dominating presence, but Kale lets out a breathless, “Shhiiiit!” He tries to close the door, but I catch it with my foot.
We both wrestle with the door like siblings. I say in a hurry, “Now Kale, if I really wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it already. I wouldn’t have to get Rudy on you, either.”
He pauses his efforts to shut the door, peeking out at me. It’s obvious Kale is frightened by Rudy, but only because of his reputation. If he knew Rudy, he’d know Rudy wouldn’t hurt a fly without just cause. Rudy has one eyebrow cocked in amusement, but tries not to smile.
Turning to Kale, I sigh. “I’m really sorry for whatever I did to make you think I have something against you. I really don’t like my ignorance told to everyone.” I narrow my eyes. “That’s what it was, you know? Me, living in a hole. Ignorance, to an extent.” I point to myself.
He shakes his head, “No, I didn’t say anything like that at all. I thought it was amazing.” A scoff comes from behind him, reminding me someone is in there with him. Since Kale is uncomfortable, he can keep whoever is with him instead of demanding to talk to him alone.
I smile. “Since that’s cleared up, we need to talk to you.”
Kale glances to Rudy and must feel assuredly safe because he nods, opening the door. We trail in behind him to find a cozy little room with an electric heater and a small fridge. Mac doesn’t even have one of those.
“What on earth do you do to contribute?” I ask in genuine curiosity.
“I’m learning the bartending ropes from Bart,” he says, standing up straighter with a smile. It fits. He’s a people person. The girl is around my age and she’s rolling a joint. I remember seeing her because there aren’t many females our age around.
“Party favors?” I jest. Kale smiles, probably remembering the time in my bunker we smoked out of my bong. The girl glares at me as if I’m gum stuck in her hair. “Joke,” I fidget under her appraisal. She doesn’t say anything, but her gaze slides to Rudy. I glance at Rudy and he scowls at her—probably for being rude. “Anyway, Kale, I have a special favor to ask, and it’s very important.”
“Sure, shoot.” He’s already interested.
“We need to get more survivors from places like the base. We need resources from out west, and they will help us, but I need to get word there. I’m wondering if you’d make the long trip and talk to them. You might need to outline the experience.”
He shrugs, “Sure.”
“No.” This is from the girl. Everyone looks at her.
I sigh, not surprised with her reaction. “Who are you, exactly?” Since both of them are so rude not to introduce us.
“Samantha. It’s dangerous, and I don’t think he should go.” She has a short brown bob cut that bounces as she shakes her head. I peek around the room for a jar that might contain Kale’s balls. “That, and he doesn’t owe you any favors. You left him in the middle of nowhere with people that mistreated him. You can’t come in here and pretend to apologize just to get your way. Sorry, find someone else.”
“Thanks, but you said your name was Samantha, not Kale, and you really don’t know anything about anything.” Kale wouldn’t have told her he left me at the mercy of Harley, Nadine, and Bridget. We could have dealt with it, but he didn’t give me a heads up. I showed him quickly I could handle myself. Rudy gives Kale a menacing glare for telling a tale and omitting the details. Kale winces.
“But I can see your point,” I tell her as I walk to the door. Rudy exchanges a glance with me, as if I should keep talking him into it. I lift a shoulder, “I’m sure we can find someone else.”
“You should think about this, Kale. You’d be helping Kan save people’s lives. I’m not talking about life or death, but saving their life for them to live it how they want.” Rudy says it to Kale, but beams at me.
I open the door. “Wait,” Kale calls, and I turn back. “I’ll do it.”
*
We explain the details to Kale, and he indeed can ride a bike. We make plans for him to talk to Gwen before leaving him to his fate with Samantha. The girl has obvious control issues. I turn to go to the fire escape, when Rudy grabs my arm.
“Wait, Kan. Why do you suppose Mac is angry about Mago?”
“That’s a good question.”
He nods, looking up the fire escape that is now supported by thick, wooden posts. “I think it’s…strange.”
“You said yourself, Mac is only trying to protect me.”
His jaw tightens for a moment. “Think about it. He wouldn’t get that upset unless he thought someone would tell the Coalition.”
“You think Mago has a connection to the Coalition?”
“Maybe. I think we need to be very careful, Kan.”
“Okay, I’ll ask Mago and let you know what I find out.”
When I open the door to the loft, Mago faces the window with his hands clasped behind his back. I realize he’s the only one in here when he turns to look at me.
“Kale’s going to do it.” I tell him, but he only nods, unconcerned for the people we’d be helping.
“I must apologize to you.”
I show my surprise when my mouth drops open. “For what?”
“For letting you go this long thinking this is a punishment. I cut your hair to contact the spirit hanging around you.”
“Hanging around me?”
“Yes, he was noticeably present when you were in my house.”
“He?” I ask in a shaky voice.
Mago lips twitch, “Yes, he.”
“Only the one?” This time my voice is thick with hope.
He looks at me with pity. “No, Kansas Moore. I cannot make contact with your father.” I don’t realize how much I want it until he says he can’t.
“Why not?”
He sighs. “Unlike the dead, spirits that have not been in their decomposing bodies usually take time to pass from this plane of existence. Your Malachi will eventually pass, as well. Undead souls get…stuck.” He glides away from the window and sits in a chair. “I wish I could tell you the reason, but like most things about spirits, there are no answers. We seek help from them. Malachi is a very strong willed soul. He has potential to haunt, if he chose to.”
I smile. Why doesn’t that surprise me? I sink into the chair across from him. He continues to speak. “Grief does not rest well on you.” I have a feeling he is prodding me.
“Do you know what happened with him?”
He inclines his head, “Tragic.” He offers no apologies or condolences, knowing I don’t want them. “And brave.” We sit for a long time in silence. “You should follow your heart.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “How cliché.” Picking at my cuticles, I can’t resist. “What makes you say that?”
“You love, but do not act upon it.” He decides on a subject change, “Leila should be here tomorrow.”
“Good. I’m tired.” I pause, but reluctantly bring it up. “What about the Coalition? Do you have ties there?”
Staring at me, he doesn’t say anything for a long while. “The Coalition has its own agenda. Do not concern yourself with them.”
“You sound like Mac.”
“Yes, Mr. Collins loves to rip new assholes, so I imagine I do.” A smile plays on his lips.
“So, how does the Voodoo thing work? Does it work for all zombies? Because I’ve come across some that weren’t…” I let it trail off because I wouldn’t know what to call it.
“Rogues. It is imperfect. I keep spirits in a re
gion, keeping them to their bodies. There are always some that wander in from other places, and some that have no spirit to begin with, like the injected, for instance. The bodies with injections have no spirits, I’m assuming because it is fast working, which is why I desire more evidence on it. Pappers was my first successful spirit. He was walking dead for three and half years before you put an end to him. That is why I visit this community often. I do not condone Terrance’s madness. I release the spirits of the dead he keeps without…killing them, so to speak.”
“Terrance? You mean Guido?” I squeak.
He scoffs, “His name is not Guido. Terrance is a dunce, for lack of a better term at the moment.”
I laugh, liking Mago the more I talk to him. “I knew his name wasn’t Guido. The pansy,” I say as he laughs with me. “That’s why you asked why I shot Lucy. You liked that I shot her.”
“Ah, yes. You were quite the…smart ass about it.” Yeah, I told him she was a rabid dog that needed putting down. I was also drunk and not in a great mood.
“Let me see if I have this straight. You have no control over rogues because they wander in from outside of your spell?” He nods, and I still don’t really get how that works. Who am I to know how magic works anyway? I keep going, “The injected you have no control over either, because they are already soulless?”
His reluctance to answer this question is apparent. “I can, but it takes tremendous effort and… a spirit.”
My bones become ice as his words sink in. “Have you ever done that? Trap a spirit inside a body that doesn’t belong to them?”
“Only to observe if I could and how time-consuming it would be. It’s not quite as bad as what I endured to give you and others in my family the ability, however. The spell is easier to accomplish if a bokor is there when the injection is given. Which is how Mya performs it often. Against her own beliefs.”
His sadness over the situation is unmistakable. That reminds me. “If you didn’t release the spirits here at the community, Lucy wouldn’t have been bitten, because the zombie that bit her would have been under your control.” I state. “And Guido’s okay with this?”
“No. She would not have. Terrance needs to learn the consequences of such foolishness. And no, it is evident he does not care.”
Speaking of Guido and his foolishness, I ask, “So why did you propose the idea of the warehouse zombies guarding the community?”
“Because when Finnegan figures out what you’re doing, there might be retribution.”
This statement makes me go silent. It’s not something I’ve thought about, and he’s right. The people here would be in danger. A sting is prominent in my finger as I chew the skin from it. “How did you know Guido’s name?”
He grins again, “Spirits are very informative beings when they want to be.” We both laugh.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The next morning, I wake to Rudy sitting on my bed next to me with Dex in his lap.
“Oh good. You’ve saved me from Dex trying to steal my soul while he sleeps on my head.” My voice is thick with sleep and Rudy grins.
“Leila is here, and Gwen wants to cook for everyone. Kale left early this morning. We helped him get ready last night, thanks to Reece and Mac working on that bike all afternoon.”
“Sounds great. I could go for some food,” I agree.
“Hey, your voice…” He reaches out and touches my neck. “Back to normal.”
I smile and get out of bed. “I’m relieved myself.”
We go to the marketplace and split up to grab some fresh stuff for a big breakfast.
“Morning, Kan!” Stanley greets as I walk up for milk and eggs. “I have cheese and butter, if you’d like some.”
I smile. “Sure.” I notice he has framed the picture I drew of him churning butter. His youngest daughter, Olivia was right beside him, eating homemade rock candy. It’s adorable.
Telling him how much I need, he puts it all in a crate. “Thanks, Stanley.”
I go to Linnie’s booth next—the old woman who grows the fresh produce in her greenhouse. “How go it, Kan?” Her hoarse voice comes from behind me. She has a tub full of assorted stuff to put on her booth. She busies herself as the bright green scarf tied around her head floats around her like a ponytail. Her huge eyes study me from behind thick glasses. Rudy walks up carrying another tub for her.
He puts the tub down behind her booth. Linnie hands him a pint of strawberries. He grins at me, “Free strawberries.”
“Ain’t no free there, boy. You work for ‘em,” Linnie says, pointing to the tub he just sat down.
He eyes the tub. “Like I said, free.”
“Where’s Bruno?” Not that I’m complaining, the man is scary.
She snorts, organizing her stock. “Ah. Drunk.”
Oh. “I need some tomatoes and potatoes.” She immediately fills my bag as I put the right amount of money on the table. “One green pepper and one onion, too.” She has a habit of not counting it, so I put money in for the strawberries. Rudy looks at me like he knows what I did and approves. She wouldn’t have taken his money for them.
“Git on, now. Rudy boy a scaring da customers.” We all laugh.
“Here, I’ll take that.” He picks up my box of milk and eggs. “Think we should get some meat?”
“I was going to get some.” We get lucky and find the meat man. Chris. He usually cooks any kind of meat. The kind of meat he sometimes cooks is gross. Luckily, pork bacon that actually looks like bacon is available.
“I think I might try to make hash browns with the potatoes.”
I feel him glance at me. “That sounds great. I haven’t had those in—”
“Almost five years?” I interrupt with a smile.
Gwen is happy when we arrive. She sets about helping me peel and grate potatoes, then goes to her task of bacon and eggs. I nibble on strawberries as I work the frying potatoes.
Mac shows up only managing to eat bits of food straight from the pots as people start arriving. I laugh when Gwen smacks his hand with a wooden spoon.
“Ouch, woman! There’s enough food for a circus.” I guess one can say we are feeding a circus.
Leila greets me with a hug, “What can I do to help?”
“Serve the tea,” Gwen chimes in and points to a big pitcher.
Julie strolls in carrying Ariella, she is all smiles and polite greetings. Even to me.
Everyone chats about the upcoming trip as we eat. Glinda smiles at me. I show her the chewed up food in my mouth, and she purses her lips.
Reece speaks up so everyone will hear him, “I think we should start today on some kind of combat training. Mac is good. Rudy has his brute force. Sam can Kung-fu-POW, but I could use a little help.”
“Me, too,” Glinda says. I raise my eyebrows at her. “Well, I do, Suga. For da good of humanity and all. Yew could probably use some, too!” She points her fork at me.
“I handle myself fine.”
Mac elbows me. “Give it a try.”
“I can use zombies,” I say, more excited than ever over the prospect.
This leads to a gigantic discussion on my newfound situation. Mago is polite enough to explain and people go somber while casting glances at me. Glinda ends up shuddering. “That’s some crazy ass shit! I call dibs on bein’ Suga’s buddy.” This only makes everyone laugh, reducing some tension the conversation brought about. Mac only sits and stares down at his food as if he lost his appetite.
“Now would be a decent time to point out, Miss Moore won’t be proficient to bend the dead to her will on this operation because of where the compound is located.”
This news disappoints me. I have been counting on being able to do so. “What do you mean?” I ask.
He casts me a grim smile. “Both of us will be invulnerable to the dead under Mya’s will. Mya has control of them there. Of course, rogues and uncontrolled injected will be running amok. So it will not be easy by any means.”
I swallow hard. “Where will
we be going?”
“Montana.” Everyone’s hushed whispers stop. Even Sam and Ty can’t crack a joke on this one.
“Wait a minute, that’s farther than Arizona. Not to mention the cold and the resources we need to transport any survivors.” I don’t have to ask why there. The cold is enough to keep the zombies from decomposing.
“Not too much farther. It’s March, the climate might be tolerable,” Mago explains.
“What do you mean by tolerable?” This is from Reece. The guy who likes to wear a vest with no shirt. I’m sure he’d wear his leather biking chaps with no pants if he could get away with it.
“Could be between thirty and fifty degrees, this time of year.” We all let out a relieved breath. Even though Glinda looks like she is going to back out at any second.
“Well shit! It’s just startin’ ta warm up here,” Glinda complains.
“Good, now we know what to prepare for.” I try looking at the bright side.
*
We all decide it’s best to gather resources and focus on training. After Mago’s interpretation of our future situation, I figure I need a little training as well. The region is under Mya’s spell, but once we get to her, we can get any zombie attacks to cease.
Mago leaves for a week to gather his resources as well. More people, but mainly gasoline. I might have taken it for granted, but we’ve never traveled fifteen hundred miles with so many people. This is not counting the amount of travel we might be doing from here on out to other compounds, if we find out where other compounds are located. Gas is hard to come by, even though Mac told me oil is still pumped from beneath the earth’s surface. Around the same time he told me the Coalition estimates less than four million people on earth. Third world countries are nonexistent. Only animals and plant life remain.
With all the looting I’ve done, I believe him. Even though four million is too optimistic for me. Even Gwen says Sierra Vista only contains around two thousand. That’s nothing compared to the six billion that made up the earth five years ago. Gwen doesn’t know of any other large communities like that one. Mac doesn’t either. More people still succumb to famished attacks and injections. We need to get rid of the injections.