CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Emily missed their target by twenty miles, not bad considering she had navigated solely by the stars. They had made land near Grand Isle on the southern coast of Louisiana, west of the Mississippi River. Cruising southeast, she soon found the river entrance. Natalie had expected the waterway to either be barricaded to traffic or so jammed with abandoned vessels as to be unnavigable. To her surprise, the river was clear. No ships, no debris, no rotters. It looked like no one had traversed the river for years. Natalie didn’t question her luck. God knew they needed all they could get. However, as Emily steered the yacht up the Mississippi, Natalie had called the Angels on deck in full uniform and gear to deal with any potential threats.
It had taken them the better part of the afternoon to make their way along the hundred miles of river that snaked through the wetlands south of New Orleans. For hours, they had seen no signs of the living or the living dead, which only built up the tension. The afternoon sun had begun making its slow descent toward the western horizon when they saw the first signs of civilization, an oil refinery and warehouses mixed in with small bedroom communities. Down the river sat the suburban community of Belle Chasse and, beyond that, the New Orleans skyline.
“This is creepy,” Amy mumbled.
“What?” Natalie asked.
Amy pointed to Belle Chasse along the port beam. “There’s no sign of rotters. You’d think so close to New Orleans we’d see at least a few of them roaming about.”
Natalie raised the binoculars. She saw no activity. She crossed to starboard and found Ari. “Have you seen any rotters?”
“Not since we entered the Mississippi. Why?”
“The girls haven’t seen anything on the other side of the river either.”
“That’s not good.”
“Yeah.” Natalie scanned the river bank. “Where the hell are they?”
“Let’s hope we don’t find out.”
The Mississippi turned sharply to the right and entered a long U-turn before flowing into New Orleans. Here the suburbs showed signs of having experienced the outbreak. Roads barricaded and clogged with abandoned vehicles, some bearing witness to vicious rotter attacks with shattered windows and blood streaks. Houses boarded up or ransacked. Blood smeared across building facades. An entire neighborhood burnt to the ground. Along the shore, dozens of small boats remained tied to the docks, some partially sunk. Skeletons lay scattered along the water’s edge. Still no signs of rotters.
All that changed when Emily turned the yacht around the southern bend and sailed into the downtown area. The incessant moaning caught their attention first. It was low key yet overwhelming, like the buzz that emanated from a large beehive. As the yacht approached the Cross City Connector Bridge, Natalie noticed a series of boards attached to the structure. Several had fallen off, but the basic message remained intact: a red-painted arrow pointing to the left with the words SAVE US!!!!! As they drew closer to the bridge, she saw where the moaning came from.
Thousands of rotters filled the southern bank of the Mississippi, stretching for several hundred yards along the waterfront and inland. They didn’t shamble aimlessly. The attention of every one of them was directed toward a brick warehouse located six hundred feet before the bridge and one hundred fifty feet inland. Each wall of the building had inscribed across the top in bright red paint the words HUMANS INSIDE – HELP US. The living dead swarmed the structure, shoving and pushing their way forward.
“Oh, dear God,” said Sandy. “On the roof.”
Natalie raised the binoculars and, as she focused in on where Sandy gestured, she felt the nausea fill her stomach.
Five people stood on the roof – three men, a woman, and a little girl of about six. Even from this distance she could tell they were in terrible shape. Their bodies were emaciated and their worn clothes hung off of them. The three men jumped up and down and screamed. The woman pointed to the yacht and said something to the little girl, and then both began waving. Below them, the rotters grew excited. As one, the horde of thousands surged toward the warehouse, their hands groping toward the food. Their moaning increased until it became a roar that drowned out the yacht’s engines.
All the Angels moved toward the port gunwale. Tiara shook her head. “I can’t imagine what they must be going through.”
“The warehouse is surrounded,” said Josephine. “We’ll never get near it.”
“How are we going to get them out?” Ari asked.
“We’re not,” Natalie stated.
“What do you mean?” Amy asked.
“We can’t just leave them there,” protested Stephanie.
“We can and we will.” Natalie took a step forward. “There’s no way to save them without all of us getting killed, and I’m not even going to risk it. I feel sorry for them, but our job is to get this vaccine to Omaha. If we don’t, a lot more people than those five are going to die. Understood?”
A despondent chorus of approvals came from the Angels.
“Good. Now get back to your stations and ignore them.”
The Angels went back to guarding the yacht. Natalie raised the binoculars and looked one final time at the warehouse. The woman had dropped to her knees and was crying, clutching the little girl in her arms. Two of the men had sat down on the roof, one of them holding his head in his hands and shaking it. The third one screamed at them and raised the middle fingers of both hands high above his head. Not that she blamed them. She would feel the same way under the circumstances. That wouldn’t do anything to assuage her guilt over leaving them to die.
She waited until the support columns for the Cross City Connector Bridges blocked her view of the warehouse before turning her back on the scene.
CHAPTER FORTY
By now the feeding of Lee had become routine. Windows would come in with his meal, Lee would sit up and make himself as presentable as possible, and Cindy would scurry off and sit in the corner. She had closed off even more than usual following the attack in the kitchen, undoing all the progress Windows had made to break her out of her shell. Lee would glance over at Cindy every so often, concern on his face. Usually they kept the conversations casual, focusing on any topic that would get their minds off of the hell they were going through, even if for only a few minutes. Today, Windows wanted to share the news.
“Did you hear?” Windows asked as she fed Lee his dinner. “We’re moving.”
“You and Cindy?” he asked with a tremble in his voice.
“The whole camp. One of your son’s foraging parties found an empty gated community not far from here. There are houses that haven’t been ransacked and a wall that can keep out rotters. We’ll be moving in a few days. The best part is you’ll finally get out of this box.”
Lee frowned. “I’ll just be trading this prison for a nicer one.”
Windows’ wanted to yell at him for being so negative, then realized he was right. Nothing would change for them. Price would shove his father into the damp basement of one of the homes, and she would still have to fuck Meat, only now it would be in a bed rather than on a mattress on the floor. And Cindy would still be in danger. Physically, the girl might survive the coming winter; emotionally, Windows was about to lose her forever.
Windows fed Lee a forkful of beans. Chewing, he glanced over at Cindy and back to Windows. “You two can’t go with the others when they move.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
“If you want to live you’ll find a way.” Lee said it with such force it took Windows by surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“Price isn’t doing this because he’s had a change of heart about the camp followers. He’s making this move to keep his men alive. He’ll leave behind anything that is no longer of value to him. That includes everyone on the Line and half the women inside camp, at least the ones they’re bored with. Knowing my son, he won’t let them just walk away. He’s used to murdering those who he no longer has a use for.”
Wi
ndows’ hands shook. She placed the plate down on the blanket and tucked her hands under her arms so the tremors wouldn’t show. “Do you really think he’ll kill us?”
“If not, he’ll take you with him where you will wind up servicing the entire camp.” He met her gaze and mouthed the words, “And probably Cindy, too.”
Windows began to cry. How could she have been so naïve? Things would not get better. In fact, her situation would become infinitely worse. And now Cindy would be dragged into it. Fear for their safety mixed with the desperation that flooded her emotions. She understood why Debra committed suicide.
“Don’t cry.” Lee placed a deformed hand on her shoulder. “There’s a way out.”
“No there isn’t!” she sobbed.
Lee grinned. “What if I told you I had hidden a car less than five miles from here with a full tank of gas and three days’ worth of supplies.”
“Are you serious?”
He nodded. “When the others were getting ready to take down Price, I prepared a Rav-4 for escape just in case things went wrong. It’s fully gassed and has four backpacks in it, each with a three-day supply of dried food and water. I’m the only one who knew about it, and when we got ratted out I kept quiet, hoping someday I might be able to use it to get out of here. I can’t use it anymore, but you can.”
Windows rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes and sniffed. “You’re going with us. I won’t leave you here.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
“Listen to me. If you and the girl disappear during the move, Price probably won’t even notice, and if he does, I doubt he’ll send anyone after you. If I go missing, he’ll hunt me down and kill anyone who’s with me. You stand a much better chance if you leave me behind.”
“I can’t—”
Lee held up his hand to cut her off. “You know I’m right. I’ll be okay if I stay here. You two won’t survive much longer. End of argument.”
Windows fought back the tears. She knew her only chance of saving Cindy was to sneak off on her own. She also knew that she would be condemning Lee to misery. The thought of it tore her up inside. However, she had her priorities. She forced a smile.
“Getting to the car is easy,” Lee whispered. “Route 28 is right outside the compound. Head north, take the second street on your left, and follow it for about two miles. You’ll come to an old construction site. There’s a metal garage on the site. The Rav-4 is in there.”
“Thanks.”
“You can thank me by getting that little girl to safety.”
The meal continued on as usual, only this time Windows noticed that Lee had a content expression on his face.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
“Television.” Wayans thought about it for a moment and nodded. “I miss television the most.”
“That’s it?” laughed DeWitt. “Of all the things you could miss from the pre-outbreak days, you miss television the most?”
“What’s friggin’ wrong with that? I used to love the SyFy Channel, though that sounds pretty lame now.”
“What about you?” Jennifer asked Simmons. “Excluding family and friends, what do miss most about life before the outbreak?”
“Crime.”
“Stopping it or committing it?” chided Frakes.
“I know it sounds weird. A better answer is probably solving crime. It kept me busy. The worst part about being here is I’m bored out of my mind. I now understand why so many cops can’t handle retirement.” Simmons leaned forward in his chair and smiled good-naturedly at Jennifer. “What do you miss?”
“Drinking a hot cup of peppermint tea while reading a book.”
“I didn’t picture you as the nerdy type,” Robson remarked.
“Would it make me less nerdy if I told you I did that in silk pajamas?”
“No,” he lied, enjoying the mental image.
“Your turn.”
Robson thought a moment. “The beach.”
“The beach is still there, man,” said DeWitt.
“I mean enjoying the beach. When I was with the sheriff’s department, I’d always stop by the coast on the way home, park for a few minutes, and just listen to the waves rolling in. I found it relaxing. It used to give me a few moments of solace. Now it just reminds me of how alone we are.”
Jennifer reached out for his hand and squeezed, and then steered the conversation back on track.
“DeWitt?”
“Dunkin Donuts iced coffee.”
“Oh, my God. Yes.” Allard closed his eyes. “With a half dozen honey dipped Munchkins.”
Frakes shook his head. “Ever been to Revere Beach down in Massachusetts? Kelly’s makes the best roast beef sandwiches in the world. We used to drive down there every Friday night for dinner. That’s a meal to miss.”
Seeing that Roberta appeared ill at ease, Jennifer asked, “What’s wrong?”
Roberta’s eyes went from Jennifer to the two cops and back again. “I don’t know if I should say.”
“We’re all friends here. Go on.”
Roberta shrugged. “I’d kill right now for a joint.”
Wayans threw his head back and laughed. “You and me both.”
Roberta showed her surprise. “But you’re a cop.”
Even Simmons laughed now. “That doesn’t mean we don’t know how to have fun.”
Allard nudged Roberta in the arm. “I bet you those two could hook you up.”
She flushed red from embarrassment.
Jennifer glared at Caslow, who sat separated from the others, staring at his plate. “What do you miss most?”
Without lifting his head, he responded, “My wife and daughter.”
“Family and friends are excluded.”
“I don’t care.” He fixed his eyes on Jennifer. “They’re the only things I miss from my past life.”
The joyous mood drained away as everyone remembered a loved one who didn’t make it past that first week. After a minute of morose silence, DeWitt spoke.
“I have a question. Once we rescue Windows and Caslow’s family, then what?”
“We bring them back here,” Robson answered.
“I mean, what about all the other people being held hostage at the compound? What are we going to do with them?”
Robson sat back in his chair. He hadn’t thought about that. The defense perimeter held thirty to forty people, none of whom could survive on their own for more than a few days. Most of them probably wouldn’t last long even under his protection. And God only knew how many more were inside the compound that he wasn’t aware of. He couldn’t set up a new camp here. Although the garage served well enough as a temporary shelter, it would be inadequate to house another forty people. Setting out to find another location would be a death sentence for most of those who survived the raid. Without food and proper medical care, few of them would make it past the first week. He didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen if rotters attacked the convoy. Best case scenario, even if most of them lived through the trip and they found an ideal location to reestablish camp, he still faced the prospect of fortifying, supplying, and defending the new compound with far fewer able bodied personnel than he would have mouths to feed. Christ, by trying to do the right thing he may have condemned them all to death.
What really sucked was that he could still change his mind about this raid.
“Boss?” DeWitt asked. “Did you hear me?”
“I did. I just hadn’t thought about that before. I’ve been concentrating on saving Windows.”
Simmons shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I hate to be an asshole about this, but we can’t accommodate so many people.”
“You’re not being an asshole,” said Robson. “You’ve done more than enough for us already, and I wouldn’t put that burden on you.”
“Friggin’ sorry, man.”
“It’s okay. Honest.” Robson stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to figure this out.”
Leaving the rector
y, he took a slow walk up the road away from the garage, trying to find a solution between two unenviable options. If one existed, he couldn’t come up with it. His choices sucked. If he did the right thing and tried to save everyone, more than likely he would get them all killed. If he saved only his own people, they had a pretty good chance of making it, yet the price would be his conscience.
He heard the footsteps approaching then Jennifer called out, “Wait up.”
He turned around as she raced up. “I need to be alone.”
“I know. I want to say something. You have a tough decision to make, and either way you’re going to feel guilty about what you do. I’ve been there. Dr. Compton and I agonized for days over whether we should try the vaccine on human volunteers, fully aware of the risks. Every time a volunteer turned, we felt horrible.”
“Thanks.” Robson turned to walk away.
Jennifer grabbed his hand and pulled him around to face her, keeping a grip on his palm so he couldn’t leave. “I’m not finished. We did things we would never have done under normal conditions, made decisions we knew would cost lives. We had to under the circumstances. Things have changed. As difficult as it is for any of us to grasp, sometimes we have to sacrifice people so humanity can thrive. It’s not easy, but the tough decisions have to be made. Do you think any less of me because of what we had to do to create the Zombie Vaccine?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you shouldn’t think any less of yourself. All I’m trying to say is, do what you think is best for all of us, not what you think a society that died nine months ago would want you to do. Whatever, decision you make, we’ll support you.”
“Thanks. I mean that. It does put things into perspective.”
“I’m glad.” Jennifer gave his hand a squeeze and broke the grip. She turned to leave, throwing over her shoulder, “I’m here if you need anything.”
Rotter World (Book 2): Rotter Nation Page 20