The Apocalypse Fugitives

by Peter Meredith

  "221 is still a very large number uh, Jilly, uh, bean. As well, we haven't officially condoned the crossing. That's what this meeting is all about. Many of us are not looking to put ourselves in the clutches of someone as notorious as the River King."

  "He's a businessman," Neil said. "The only way he stays in business is if he provides a service at a good price. The moment it's discovered he tried to kidnap or rob innocent people, who would cross? Nobody. They'd find a boat or build another bridge."

  "I'm glad you brought up the idea of a boat my friend," Trigg said, ignoring pretty much everything Neil had just explained. "We haven't even voted on the idea of finding a boat to get us across."

  Neil shook his head wearily. "Look it's getting late. You guys can stay up all night voting on what color flowers to wear in your hair for all I care, but I'm heading to bed and in the morning I'm going to see the River King and I'm going to negotiate the release of my daughter and likely the terms to cross over. Whoever is coming with me should get some sleep."

  "That's not how this works," Trigg replied.

  He opened his mouth to go on but Grey said, "It should be. We're about to undertake what could be a perilous journey where there may not be time for votes and quorums and all that crap. Pure democracy has its limits and when the shit hits the fan is that limit. I suggest we pick a leader."

  Trigg studied him for a moment and then turned to the people sitting on the hard bleachers and looked them over. Finally, he said, "I think that Mister Grey has a point. Those in favor of choosing a leader raise your hands."

  "Depends who's running," Joslyn said.

  "That does make sense," Trigg agreed. "I will be running. Anyone who also wants to run please come join me." The other panelists left quickly and then only Captain Grey came down. A few others had considered it: Deanna Russell, Michael Gates and Big Bill Weisner, however they didn't pull the trigger and remained seated.

  "Standard secret voting rules apply," Trigg said. "The invalids and anyone younger than eighteen can't vote." All of which was in Trigg's favor. The two younger Gates boys practically idolized Grey and there was no question Mindy would've voted for him since he had brought her back from the brink of death by repairing a nicked artery in her bicep. But Grey didn't mind the rules, he didn't think he could lose to Trigg, whom he considered to be a putz.

  "I think speeches would be in order," Trigg said. "I suggest nothing over five minutes."

  "Five minutes is a long time to blab," Grey replied. "I only need one minute." Trigg gestured for Grey to proceed. Speeches were not his thing; he wasn't glib or smooth and tended to bark out his short talks to his men. His biggest problem was that he expected common sense out of people—it was why he was wrong about his chances of winning.

  His speech was predictably short, "This is a non issue we're debating. I am a West Point trained leader with ten years in uniform. I have faced enemies in Iraq, Afghanistan and on the streets of America. For almost a year now I've lead men in battle against zombies and have never tasted defeat. That is all."

  Trigg walked away from Grey and approached the group, smiling. "My opponent is a great leader of men in battle and for that we are extremely lucky to have him with us. However, we are not readying for battle. It's battle we hope to avoid at all costs. What we need is a leader who will unite us, who will keep us out of danger instead of leading us into danger, someone who will guarantee our safety."

  "No one can do that," Grey interjected.

  "Please," Trigg said, holding a finger up high. "I did not interrupt you. So…where was I?"

  "You were saying you could guarantee our safety," Jillybean answered, accidentally playing right into Trigg.

  Fred was all smiles at Jillybean. "Yes. Safety right now is more important than anything," he said. "Now Mister Grey talked about how his sole training is in fighting, let me tell you about my back ground. I was on the HOA committee when I lived…"

  Grey tuned him out, but not without a grand rolling of his eyes. Trigg went past his allotted time by a few minutes but no one seemed to care, he had an easy style of speaking compared to Grey's rough voice. When he finally wrapped up, paper was passed around to all the adults and a few minutes later Grey was shocked to discover he didn't win. He didn't exactly lose either; they split the vote fifty-fifty.

  "We could split the leadership," Trigg suggested. "One day on, one day off." There was a glint to his eye that Grey caught right as he was about to call Trigg an idiot. He wasn't an idiot. He wanted Grey's anger to show.

  Grey wouldn't be baited. He put on a politician's smile of his own—it fit like someone else's shoe. "The Roman generals tried that. It didn't work for them and it won't work for us either," he said. "No, we'll take the vote again and hopefully this time you will all see that this guy is nothing but a politician and it was politicians who got us into this mess to begin with."

  "I'm not a politician," Fred countered. "I've never run for any office in my life before today. But you are military and it was the military that couldn't fix the mess."

  The captain went to sit with Neil as the votes were handwritten out a second time and then counted. "We could be screwed if this guy wins," Grey whispered. "I wouldn't put it past him to take all the gas we scrounged and all the ammo we got off the raiders."

  "Then you better not lose," Neil said. "You do great with the prisoners we rescued and alright with the Floating Island people, but terrible with the new women in spite of the fact you practically saved Mindy's life, stitching up her arm. For some reason they don't trust you and without…wait here we go."

  William Gates stood and said, quietly, "It's another tie."

  The group began to whisper among themselves. Fred let it go on for a minute before standing. "Maybe our positions aren't clear enough. We should each get another five minutes to show what direction we would like to take the group."

  "Oh shit," Grey said to Neil in an undertone. "No matter what that jackass says, he's a politician and I'm not eloquent at all."

  "Then speak from the heart," Neil said. "Don't try to be flowery, just try to show them the real you."

  "I don't know how," Grey insisted. "The heart doesn't speak, the mind does. I speak from common sense and intelligence but these people don't seem to want that."

  "Then we're screwed," Neil said.

  "Maybe not." Grey looked at the little girl sitting with a massive, leather-bound book across her knobby knees. "Hey, Jillybean, what do you think? How can I win this?"

  She placed a finger on the page and then shrugged. "You can't, given the facts. You guys just said the people want a gooder speaker and you aren't that good compared to Mister Fred. The more you two speak the better he will do. Sorry."

  "That's it?" Grey snapped.

  Neil patted him on the shoulder to calm the big man down. "Maybe we just asked her the wrong question. How 'bout this, Jillybean, how do we get Trigg to lose?"

  Her lips pursed for a second as she considered, then she brightened, "Easy. Mister Fred would lose if someone else ran against him. Like you Mister Neil. You would do good with the prisoners we freed and all of the Gates family likes you, and I don't think the new prostitute ladies are afraid of you at all. And you always speak from the heart but not like Mister Fred, neither. You mean what you say."

  Grey made a sour face. "Neil, really?" he asked Jillybean.

  She looked over the large group, her calculating eyes picking out individuals. "Yes. Neil is the only one. Miss Marybeth might be good but she hasn't mingled with the prostitute ladies yet and she's ascared of the boy prisoners. Mister Big Bill has killed people with his hands; I'll think people will get all nervous about it. Mister Michael is afraid to be leader, I can tell. And…"

  "He's afraid?" Neil demanded. "What about me? I think you guys are forgetting I don't want the job. I'm, not a leader."

  "You're a better man than you know, Neil," Grey said, slapping him on the back and then smiling as Neil coughed. "You weren't a hero before you had to
be, and you weren't a father either. I've seen you step up, Neil. This may be our only chance to keep Trigg from running the show."

  He hauled Neil up by the back of his sweater vest and walked with him down to the gym floor to make sure he didn't try to back out. "There's going to be a change in your opponent. Neil is running in my place."

  Fred stared, incredulously. "This is exactly why you wouldn't make a good leader," he said to Grey. "You can't arbitrarily substitute candidates just because you feel like it."

  "Good point," Grey replied, maintaining a smile in spite of the fact he was itching to punch Trigg in the face. "But like I said, I'm not running for the leadership in this group, Neil is."

  Trigg began to splutter about rules and fairness, Neil cleared his throat and when that didn't shut Trigg up, Neil began speaking over him, "Picking a leader is too important to be hung up by the nuances of your rules, Fred. You basically gave everyone about thirty seconds to decide whether being leader was right for them. It's no wonder no one else stood up." Neil turned and addressed the group, "Would anyone else like to throw their hat in the ring?"

  No one moved.

  "I guess it's just us," Trigg said, suddenly genial. "It's better this way because after all we are basically deciding whether or not we risk ourselves with this dangerous river crossing. The people have heard from me and my plan to steer them to safety, I guess it's time they heard from you, Neil. Why should we follow you into great danger, putting all of our lives at risk to rescue your daughter?"

  Neil took a deep breath and answered, "I guess because she's not my daughter. I never met her before the apocalypse began. In fact, the first time we met she had a gun on me and robbed me blind." Neil paused and smiled at the memory. "But strange circumstances put us in each other's way and we somehow formed a group. Just like all of us have," he said the people in the bleachers. "Circumstances have brought us together and we found we share a common need for safety and a common destination. But we can't be just traveling partners. No matter what Fred says there will be danger on every road we take and if we don't come together as a family we will not make it. Families rely on each other and they sacrifice for each other. Traveling partners will let the sick die and the lost remain lost. That's why I'm going to negotiate for Sadie's release."

  It was a short, heartfelt speech and it moved the room to silence. "See?" Jillybean whispered to Grey.

  "Yeah," he said before standing up. "We know his reason now. I say we don't waste any more time; let's vote."

  Neil won in a landslide.

  He gave Fred a handshake and a wave to Jillybean before saying to the group, "I accept the leadership of the group but only until we reach Colorado. In the meantime I will need some help. I am appointing Captain Grey as our weapons specialist. He will need to take an inventory of every gun and bullet in the group. With our limited resources we need to keep careful watch on our ammo."

  "You're appointing me?" Grey asked. "Don't I get a say so?"

  "No, sit down," Neil said, garnering a few chuckles. "I will also need a supply person…a quartermaster, someone who will take charge of our food situation. Any volunteers?"

  When no one budged, one of the former prostitutes raised a timid hand. "I was an office manager," she said. "Will that work?" Her hair was raven black and in those infrequent moments when she would look up it made her blue eyes blaze out of her face.

  "Sure, what's your name?"

  "Kay Gallager."

  "Thanks, Kay. Lastly…at least the last thing for tonight, I will need a personnel manager. I will need someone who will assign work to each one of us and keep track of the hours each person spends at it. I don't want the same few people being stuck doing clean up duty or sitting on the two a.m. guard shift every night. I want it to be fair but at same time I want us to work to our strengths."

  Right in front of Grey, Fred raised his hand. Neil glanced at it and then saw Grey shaking his head vehemently and turned away quickly scanning the people, only no one else raised their hands; Neil looked stuck picking Trigg. The personnel position would be the hardest job and the one most easily abused. The wrong person in place could split the group by playing favorites and there was something about Trigg that Grey didn't trust, but unfortunately they seemed stuck with him as the only choice.

  Neil must have had the same worried reaction because he didn't look Trigg's way a second time, instead he stared long and hard at Michael Gates. Finally, the balding man raised his hand.

  "Excellent!" Neil exclaimed. "Now for one last agenda point, I need a small party to come with me in the morning to visit the River King. I've already chosen Captain Grey and Jillybean…"

  "Me?" Jillybean piped. "I thought I was going to have to sneak a ride."

  "I need your eyes," Neil said to her. "And I need the Captain's judgment of their defenses. Also Fred, would you come? We'll be going without weapons and just enough gas to get us there and back, but it should be safe enough."

  "Afraid I'll stage a palace coup while you're gone?" he asked with little attempt at civility. Fred had been sulking since his election loss and his mood had only soured when Neil refused to pick him for the personnel slot.

  "No. I want an opposing point of view. The truth is people see things differently. I want you to tell me why things won't work and what I'm being blind to." Trigg calmed immediately seeing the value in his being chosen. "Ok, that should be it," Neil said, quickly when Fred agreed. "We'll be leaving at seven sharp."

  Grey and Jillybean met Neil as he was heading for the door at a brisk pace. "You won, Mister Neil," Jillybean said. "That was good."

  "Yes it was," Neil said with a pat on her head. He didn't slow.

  "What's wrong?" Grey asked, pulling Neil around.

  What was wrong came storming up to them in the form of an irate woman. Deanna Russell stood glaring down at Neil. "To think I fell for your 'family' clap trap. I had my hand raised to go tomorrow and you ignored me, just like you ignored Mr. Trigg when he wanted that position. Is this how you're going to run things? Like a petty, little king?"

  "More or less," Neil said. "I didn't call on Fred because I didn't think he was right for the job and I didn't want to have to say that in front of everyone. And I didn't call on you for much the same reason. You're…you're too pretty to come along."

  "That's sexist bullshit," Deanna spat. Jillybean's eyes went wide, but she seemed to know to keep quiet when the grownups were this angry.

  "I'm sure there's more to it than just that," Grey said, hoping for Neil's sake that there was, because the woman looked like she was ready to cause trouble on the first day of his leadership.

  "The River King isn't just a man who charges a toll to use his bridge," Neil explained. "He's a slave trader. It makes sense not to call attention to the fact that the majority of our group are women and pretty ones at that."

  "All the more reason for me to go, that way you won't be tempted into trying to run some sort of side deal. You know, trading a few of us girls to pay off the toll instead of wasting bullets or gas."

  Grey glared at her. "You are pretty far out of line accusing a good man of basically being a slaver."

  Neil shook his head at Grey. "Let's cut her some slack. They've had it rough. Ok Deanna, you can come, but only if you do something about all of this," he said, indicating pretty much all of her. "Butch yourself up, pencil on a moustache, do something not to call attention to yourself."

  "Ok then," she said. "I can do that." Grey was afraid of what the results would be. He pictured her with a little dirt on her made up cheeks and a less bright color of lipstick.

  Since it was late the group broke up. Neil and Jillybean took Eve and after changing her and feeding her, they bedded down. Grey went to look in on his patient and found Mindy much improved. She was even eating a little.

  "My hero," she said as he began checking her sutures for signs of infection. "They tell me it was the handsome captain that sewed me back together."

  "Other than tha
t nick in your brachial artery your wound was a clean through and through with no bone fragments. It was nothing."

  Mindy smiled slow and blearily under a morphine haze. "They also said you wouldn't talk much. That's ok with me. I like the silent type."

  Deanna had followed him at a distance and now she hurried up. "Mindy," she warned. "That's not you anymore."

  "Maybe…but I'm not sure who I am anymore," Mindy said, suddenly teary eyed.

  "I don't think any of us do," Deanna told her.

  Chapter 25

  Neil Martin

  Cape Girardeau, Missouri

  Mindy wasn't the only person who didn't know who they were anymore. Before bed, Neil looked in on Eve and Jillybean. A portable crib had been found and the two of them were sleeping in it: Eve looking like an angel with chubby cheeks and Jillybean cute as a button with her zebra tucked up under her chin.

  Neil noted this and felt nothing. Afraid that he was broken somehow he stared at the two children and searched his feelings. All he discovered was a brooding sense of responsibility.

  "What's wrong with me?"

  He still hadn't grieved for Sarah. Other than the first outpouring of emotion at seeing her disfigured body he had only shed a few haphazard tears or hadn't felt anything beyond a passing regret like a stray breeze on a sweltering day. It was there for a moment and then gone. He wanted to be miserable because that was normal, because that meant he had really, truly loved her like he had thought.

  But he had nothing, which meant that he hadn't loved her; either that or he was broken.

  The night passed just like all the rest since Sarah had died: in a blink of an eye, and he awoke neither tired nor refreshed. After a breakfast of warmed over canned peas he kissed Eve on her soft cheek. She smiled and babbled and was altogether cute. He grinned at her, feeling zip inside, and handed her to Amy Gates and nodded to her aunt, Marybeth who was always very close.