Dead 10: Reclamation

by T. W. Brown

  “How come Morton didn’t wake us?” a female voice called from above.

  “Lazy bastard probably fell asleep,” another voice responded.

  “Somebody go wake the lazy bastard,” a third yawned. “We gotta get that damn Irishman to talk. I got a feeling there are some more people in this area.”

  Jody could not help but raise an eyebrow. So far, he had heard nothing but female voices. It dawned on him that he hadn’t even taken the time to get a look at the person George had killed. The body was fifteen or twenty feet away and he had paid it no mind.

  The trapdoor groaned and Jody tensed. The ladder dropped with a deafening thud and a pair of legs lowered.

  “Morton, you lazy bitch, get the hell up. I need you to help me lower that cage so we can get that smart mouthed punk to spill either information or his guts,” a woman’s voice called.

  She was halfway down when George rose. Jody was still amazed at how a man that size could move so silently. In two steps, he was at the side of the ladder. Like a cobra, he struck fast. One hand shot up and grabbed a handful of hair, yanking the woman’s head back. His other hand came across just as quick as he slit the woman’s throat. There was only a single, short gurgle of surprise, but the woman was dead before George laid her on the ground and started up the ladder after making a “let’s go” gesture with his head.

  Everybody fell in, Jody finding himself somewhere in the middle of the pack. They would have to hurry and count on the fact that these people were not yet armed if they were going to get through this with little or no loss of life from their team.

  A scream came, followed by a roar as George obviously reached the top and charged into battle. The sounds of feet thudding on the floor overhead came from all directions.

  When Jody emerged to join, he saw one woman already sprawled in a pool of blood just a few feet away. The doors to all the bedrooms were shut except for one. Margarita came up beside him and pointed to the closest door.

  “Let’s get ‘em,” Margarita stalked to the door with murderous intent.

  Jody was right behind her when she kicked the door open. A chorus of screams came; again, Jody noted that they were all women. Following on her heels, Jody rushed in with his saber and threw it up just in time to block a machete that clanged with enough force to make his hands tingle.

  He kicked out at the half-naked woman that was coming at him with her teeth barred in angry determination. Something collided with his side and Jody found himself on the ground staring up at a woman who had a machete dripping with blood in her hands. She held it with both hands and raised it for the killing blow.

  ***

  Entry Thirty-seven—Scratch one more.

  Today was another good day for me. Besides the fact that I was able to slip away for a couple of days and drop a deer that should keep me fed for another week or so, I was also able to trade what I could not use with an elderly man that paid me with dried fish and some apples, potatoes, and onions that almost made me cry before I cut them.

  You gotta appreciate the small things.

  The caravan just slipped into one of those small communities that looks like it holds less than fifty people. Since I know they will stay for at least a day or two, I felt okay with slipping away.

  I returned to find them still inside the walls of the tiny village, so I was setting up camp. I was not really doing much except for basking in a mild day and nibbling some dried fish when I saw somebody slip over the wall.

  At first I thought it might be a citizen of the community. However, being curious, I moved in to just get a closer look. I was being careless and only had my belt knife with me.

  The thing is, I have been stalking these guys for a while, so I know what they look like. By the time I recognized this as one of Darwin’s people, it was too late, I was too close to the guy to go back and grab my favorite hand-to-hand weapon: a tomahawk.

  A few years ago I did a job for this great group of Native American folks. They paid me with some sturdy bearskins and oiled leathers that actually keep me pretty dry as long as I remember to grease them every month or so. Sure…they reek like you would not believe, but dry and stinky beats wet and miserable.

  Besides the killer clothes, they also gave me this honest-to-goodness tomahawk. I actually stayed a few weeks extra to learn how to throw it. I got pretty good by the time we parted ways. However, that baby also works great in a stand-up fight. It is heavy enough to damn near break the wrist of somebody who tries to deflect it with a sword.

  But back to my latest contribution to society…

  I managed to get within about ten yards of the guy. I think he was skimming some of the goods or something, because he was awful nervous when he plopped down behind a large rock and pulled a water skin from inside his coat. He unscrewed the top and, after another look around, he took a big drink.

  People can be pretty nasty. Funny the things they do when they think nobody is looking. It reminds me of when I used to commute to work each day. At least a few times a week I would be driving and pass by some yay-hoo that was knuckle deep in a nostril. Oh yeah, women were just as guilty as the men. Maybe I did not see them as often, but more than a few gals got busted. More than once I would have to fight my gag reflex when that nose-nugget-coated finger would end up going into the mouth.

  Yikes…gives me the heebie-jeebies just thinking of it.

  I say that because my target apparently had some serious butthole itch. It was bad enough that he was shifting one way and then the other to gouge at his itchy ass, but to sniff his fingers after? Why…just…why?

  The way I saw it, I was doing the world a favor on more than one front. This guy was nasty.

  I waited for him to take a few more drinks. I could tell by the expressions he would make after each gulp that this stuff was some potent booze. (The sip I took later confirmed it when the stuff felt like it would burn through my guts and drip out the bottoms of my feet.)

  When he laid his head back and shut his eyes, I decided that it was a good time to move in. For somebody my size—just over six and a half feet tall and about two hundred and thirty pounds—I move pretty quiet when I try.

  I had the sun in my face, so he would not even get the warning of my shadow. When I reached him, I just stood there. I tried to look at this guy and figure out where he had lived his life, and what had given him the mindset that it was okay to do the things that he was doing. I came up empty. I guess I will never understand.

  He started to snore, so I kicked him in the foot. I have a rule about killing somebody in their sleep. Basically, the rule is that I won’t do it. I want the person to see me. I like the shock factor when they realize they have gone from victimizer to victim. It also helps that I have my face smeared black with charcoal except for the white smudges I have around my eyes.

  Originally, I was going for a skull effect or some sort of Mask of Death thing. I don’t think it came out nearly as cool as I pictured in my head, but it still became my thing, and I have been doing it since the first kill.

  When he opened his eyes, he shouted and spooked me. That was unfortunate. It was simple reflex to bring my weapon down on the top of his head. He died not even knowing why I was there to kill him.

  What a pisser.

  12

  Ghost from a Geek’s Past

  “Listen to me,” Darlene hissed. “I trusted you, and now I need you to trust me.”

  “That is a commodity that is hard to come by these days,” Kevin scoffed with a dismissive wave. “You already played your hand and showed us your cards. You gave us up the moment that you got back with your people.”

  “That’s because I did not want to spring it on them later and have everybody freak out because we kept information back. In case you didn’t notice, I tried to paint you in the best light possible.”

  Kevin continued to glower at the woman, but Catie elbowed him aside and took Darlene’s hands.

  “I heard what you said.” There was a clear hin
t of gratitude in Catie’s voice. “I also heard what you did not say. So did Kevin, he is just angry because his plan has a few bumps in it. He gets that way, but he is smart enough to figure out what you have done on our behalf.” She had raised her voice just a little on that last bit to drive a point home for Kevin.

  The flap to the tent opened and four men entered; each was heavily armed. Three of the men were strangers, but one of them had been the man on horseback that had obviously been in charge. Kevin was starting to think that this guy was one of the big shots here in the community.

  “You,” the spokesman pointed at Kevin, “come with me.”

  “I won’t be going anywhere without her,” Kevin insisted, nodding to Catie.

  “Listen, she will be safe,” the man replied. “I give you my word that nobody is going to lay a hand on her.”

  “And I would believe you why?”

  “Kevin.” Catie placed a hand on Kevin’s shoulder and leaned into him. “I will be fine.”

  “And I will stay with her,” Darlene assured.

  Kevin shot the woman a withering glare. Was that supposed to give him comfort? She had turned on them the moment an opportunity arose. Yes, she had omitted certain things that could have cast him in a more negative light, but the fact remained that she had given them up right away.

  “Here.” The man pulled Catie’s knife from his belt and handed it to her. He turned to Kevin. “I know that you have concerns, and I respect that, but you need to come with me, Kevin Dreon.”

  Kevin’s mouth opened. He had made no mention of his last name. Obviously this man knew him…or at least he knew of him. Also, they were just giving Catie a weapon? Did they truly have no idea how dangerous that woman was without one?

  “Go, Kevin,” Catie insisted, accepting her blade and clipping it to her belt.

  He hated doing it. His place was with her. Period. Finally, Kevin kissed Catie on the cheek and then stepped forward and took his place with his escorts.

  “If anything at all happens to her—” he began, but the man silenced him.

  “It won’t…and don’t waste your time with idle threats. You are not in any condition to make them, and they just sound silly.”

  “Silly?” Kevin muttered.

  They exited the tent and began to weave through the camp. Kevin was at least happy to see that these people were taking the approaching zombie herd seriously. They were breaking everything down. He had half-expected these people to ignore his warnings until it was too late.

  A group of teenagers darted across their path. They were playing what basically looked like some twist on “kill the man with the ball.” Once you got tackled, you were “infected” and became a zombie. One of the teens paused to watch him pass and got “infected” by a girl with blond hair and long braids. Kevin looked over his shoulder just before he rounded the corner of a large military tent that had not been struck yet. The young man was still watching him all the way up until the girl got so tired of being ignored that she leaned over and licked the boy on one cheek. The yelps of disgust faded as he turned the corner and headed for another large tent with people rushing in and out.

  They stopped at the entrance and the man held up his hand, sticking his head inside. “I have him,” he called.

  “He’s here?” Now?” a female voice practically squealed. There was the sound of a flurry of activity. “Everybody out…go!”

  Kevin was pulled back as a rush of people poured from the tent. All of them cast him inquisitive glances as they hurried away. He was growing increasingly curious. Whoever this was, they knew him.

  At last, the voice from inside the tent called for him to be brought inside. Kevin was given a nudge, and he entered the tent. His eyes had to adjust for the sudden gloom, but when he could see clearly, he saw a woman standing at the end of the long tent, her back to him. He sighed inwardly. This person was obviously trying for some sort of dramatic reveal. He thought there were more pressing matters than whatever this person was trying to achieve.

  “You and the men can wait outside, Loren,” the woman said softly.

  “But—” the man Kevin now assumed to be Loren started to protest, only to have the woman cut him off.

  “I will be quite safe. Kevin wouldn’t hurt me.” The woman turned to him, a smile on her face.

  Kevin held up his manacled hands to indicate that he was pretty helpless for the most part; at least when it came to dealing with people who were armed. This woman had a sword on her hip and a loaded crossbow on the table less than two feet away.

  “Excuse me, do I know you?” Kevin asked once the room was clear.

  “I think I am hurt,” the woman said, easing into a chair and folding her hands in her lap.

  “Not my intention.” Kevin shrugged.

  He studied the woman’s face. There was something familiar about it, but that didn’t mean anything. This woman was in her late twenties or early thirties. She had gone the muscle route and her well-defined arms were visible since she wore a sleeveless vest.

  Her dark hair had been pulled back and braided into tight rows on her head that should have been unflattering, but with her perfectly oval face and still girlish features, it actually enhanced her appearance. Kevin was briefly reminded of some of the female MMA fighters he had seen on television. This woman would have definitely fit in with that crowd.

  “I guess I can’t hold it against you. It has been a long time, and when you knew me, I was more of a pain in the ass and a weight to be lugged than I was a help.” The woman leaned forward. “But spend a few years with an all-woman army unit and you learn a few things.”

  “Erin Bergman?” Kevin gasped.

  “It’s Erin Crenshaw now,” the woman corrected. “But I guess it doesn’t matter. My husband is dead…and so is my daughter.”

  The woman’s features began to change. While her voice was certainly conveying sorrow, her expression was showing anger and even a bitter hatred. Kevin had his doubts that this would be a happy reunion.

  ***

  “You really think he will be okay?” Catie asked.

  “That’s the third time you’ve asked that question,” Darlene sighed. “I am telling you, our leader knows your man. She actually described him to us…more or less. But it was clear that she was describing him. All the way down to how damn smart he is.”

  “I just worry about him,” Catie admitted. “Sometimes he can make a good situation bad just by opening his mouth.”

  “I get that,” Darlene said with a nod.

  A commotion from outside the tent caused her to get up and look. Two horses were coming down the center of camp at a full gallop. People were having to literally dive out of the way to avoid being trampled.

  “Grab what you can, they cut through that other field instead of sticking to the road!” one of the men shouted. “They will be here in less than an hour!”

  “Crap,” Darlene grumbled.

  “We need to go get Kevin,” Catie said, heading for the flap of the tent. Darlene turned and blocked her path.

  “Our leader wanted to see him. She will have the same information, and trust me, she will be rolling up and moving out. Kevin will be escorted back. If not, we will meet up with him at the first rally point.” Darlene grabbed Catie by the shoulders to stop her. She saw a look in the woman’s eyes that made her let go in a hurry, but she remained in position to block the exit.

  There was a tense moment of silence, and then somebody came in, easing Darlene aside in order to enter the tent. It was the man who had escorted Kevin to this mysterious meeting.

  “You heard the rider, pack up,” Loren told Darlene. He turned to Catie. “Here are your choices, you go with Darlene and stay by her side or we kill you.”

  “Wow, it’s really all or nothing with you guys,” Catie retorted with a sarcastic laugh.

  “It wasn’t how we wanted to do things, but the situation has changed.” Loren gave a shrug of his shoulders as if to say that it was what it was an
d he couldn’t help it.

  “Given the choice, I will stay with Darlene.” For now, she thought as an add-on to that statement.

  The two women exited the tent. Catie looked around at the growing chaos. These people had not been prepared for this situation. That left her wondering just how scatter-brained their leadership might be.

  They reached a tent that was already a hive of activity. Several other men and women were loading backpacks and placing footlockers into a wagon out front. With all this madness, she hoped to God that she and Kevin did not get separated to the point of losing each other.

  ***

  “So, what made you leave that unit?” Kevin asked. He was struggling with trying to make this conversation as normal as possible. It had become increasingly difficult with the announcement that the herd was less than an hour away.

  “Things got a bit out of control. At one point, there were three power struggles within a month of each other. We started becoming nothing more than a mobile raiding force. Also, they started taking the whole “no men allowed” thing a bit too far for my liking.” Erin shot Kevin a wink that, despite the fact that Erin was a grown woman, made him feel a bit dirty. In his mind, now that he knew who she was, he still saw her as that little girl.

  He seemed to recall that, even as a young girl, Erin liked the boys. It had become a problem more than once. Hell, just prior to the whole zombie apocalypse, the girl had been in all the tabloids. She had gotten knocked up by her pop star sister’s manager. The scandal was triple-edged since, not only was she the sister of a relatively well-known celebrity, she was also the daughter of a United States Senator. Oh…and she was fourteen when she had gotten knocked up.

  “Plus, I was never one of the soldiers in their eyes. I was always an outsider. Sure, good enough to go out on supply searches and to patrol the perimeter, but never quite one of the gang, ya know. After a while, that starts to grate on a person.”