No Room In Hell (Book 2): 400 Miles To Graceland

by William Schlichter

  Emily wonders what the average life expectancy is now. Does age even matter? The biters don’t care about age. They only seek food.

  Rocked from her thoughts by the library door slamming open, Emily drops the stack of DVDs she was cataloging.

  “Sorry, Emily. I didn’t realize it would open so fast when I kicked.” Major Ellsberg carries a cardboard box.

  “The top bar thingy that automatically closes it broke. Now it takes the slightest push to move.” She picks up her stack of fallen movies.

  “Where can I work?”

  “Pick a table. Shouldn’t you be allocated an office?”

  “They are building one as well as a radio room in one of the empty classrooms.” He places the box on a table. “Do you have a laptop for me?”

  Emily places her DVDs on the workstation before pulling out a laptop. “It should still be connected to the Wi-Fi printer. I tested it. It still works. Too bad all websites I’ve tried pop up error.”

  “I’ll need to print photos of the fences where reinforcements are needed.” He places a digital camera on the table. “Do we have area maps and any books on trains? I think we should add defensive spikes at the entrance.”

  Emily takes folded road maps from the top drawer in the workstation. “I’ve lots of state maps. Ethan raided a visitor center. He lives by these things.” She waves a pamphlet. “I’ve got some local lake maps for fisherman as well.”

  “Road maps won’t be out of date until we defeat the vectors and rebuild.”

  Emily types on her computer. “I have The Big Book of Trains and The Bedtime Train book. This was an elementary school.”

  “If you run across anything more adult on trains, bring it to me.” Ellsberg unfolds the map. “Do you have any maps of this county?”

  Emily jots down trains on a sticky note. “Dartagnan has constructed the best map of our compound.”

  “No argument there,” Wanikiya says at the entrance. The Native American’s one of the tallest people Emily’s ever seen. He ducks under the door frame in order to enter the library. He’s the best cook, feeding the camp and leading when Ethan scavenges, but he paints his face with John Wayne movie war paint. His face terrifies her. The way she expects an Indian seeking scalps would decorate his face. Wanikiya claims it’s the warrior way of his people, which she’s not sure if it’s true or just Hollywood in order to scare the white people of the camp. Certainly, the polished silver tomahawk on his belt does.

  She’s secretly thrilled leaders of the camp use her library for discussions giving her access to information others in the colony aren’t privy to. Ever since the fall of Fort Leonard Wood more former soldiers seem to be helping with camp operations. Many of the camps long term residents discuss heavily at dinner how much they disapprove.

  Wanikiya spreads out a map with black marker outlining part of the camp fence. “Dartagnan’s model representation of the camp is more accurate.”

  “I’ve inspected the fence, and drawn up where we need to reinforce immediately. I suggest you stop moving your west fence line,” Major Ellsberg says.

  “We need the land and the houses outside the fence,” Wanikiya protests.

  “I didn’t say we stop reclaiming territory. We stake off a wall and put up several checkpoints to close off if needed in case of a breach. If the perimeter wall fails, the infected will flood the entire camp. This way we can shut off sections and maintain control.”

  “It will take a lot more fence.”

  “Yes. We keep everyone else safe in a breach event.”

  “You’re not talking about full airlock security like our main gate?” Wanikiya confirms.

  “No. Swinging or sliding gates. Some of them wide enough the cattle herd just move through if they are going to keep openly grazing. We build tracks so even a four-year-old could pull them closed.”

  “The current scavenging team was designated to collect fence material from the farm supply store. The plan is to herd the cattle into smaller grazing areas and clean off the grass before moving them to a new section utilizing as much feed as possible,” Wanikiya says.

  “I’m no farmer.”

  “The fencing crew’s current expansion project will cut through the houses we desperately need to acquire.”

  “Populated areas need to be isolatable in case of breach,” says Major Ellsberg.

  “Dartagnan says we need more grass. But they’re too cooped up in the community building. We need housing for all the new people first.”

  “Our food supply must have a food source. I can’t believe you defer to a retard kid,” says Major Ellsberg

  Emily reminds the two men she’s present. “He’s not retarded. He’s some kind of savant, of sorts.”

  “His ability to calculate in his mind what we need has made sure we survive,” says Wanikiya

  “I would not ever let the boss hear you call him anything but ‘Dartagnan’,” Emily advises.

  The Major defers, “I shouldn’t have called him a name. Any person who survived without fences can’t be mentally challenged.” He moves on. “In my examinations of the compound and the area we expand toward are these railroad tracks.” He thumps a location on the map. “I need a team to inspect them.”

  Wanikiya rubs his chin. “Trains make a lot of noise. It will attract more biters than those driving trucks deal with now.”

  “We’ll work around that problem. I want to build our network of fences toward them. We build a supply station, put together a few cars, and use a train to cover longer distances safely. Freight trains run all over the country. Stop the train before a town, the noise will draw infected, and send a team into the town with less chance of danger.”

  “Portable scavenging teams,” Wanikiya considers the Major’s plan. “It will take some logistics and well-trained teams.”

  “We build our secure fence to the tracks then work our way back to the current compound. The teams will always have a fence to their backs and sweeping the newly fenced-in areas will take less time allowing the movement of people and cattle.”

  “I agree. But you are asking for a lot more fence we don’t have and must scout to get,” Wanikiya says.

  Ellsberg explains, “At first we use the bigger single pieces of chain link for outer security. What will become the inter fences we use what people put around their yards and tie it together. It’s not as strong but we are not expecting it to face the brunt of a herd like the outer fence. It is to prevent walkers from moving into the next section if something goes wrong. By that time your security forces should retake the area.”

  KAYLA OPENS THE window letting sunlight into the classroom converted into a twelve-bed hospital unit. None of the privacy curtains are pulled as she has only one patient. He turns his head away from the light. She uncuffs the shackle around his wrist.

  “I understand why you handcuff wounded, but am I not off the critical list yet?” asks Levin.

  “The doctors are concerned any patient could die in the middle of the night. Camp rules you sleep in chains. Sorry. I do have good news. Today’s the day, Mr. Smith. After you eat. We go outside.”

  “Call me Levin.” Smith as a last name is an easy lie to remember. Apparently, I gave away my first name under the medications they gave me when they repaired all the wounds from Danziger. I’ll see many pretty blonde girls suffer for his attack. If I can’t find one in this camp maybe nurse Kayla will satisfy my urge. She’s older, but she’s still pretty. Her scrubs hide her figure, but I’ll transform her. “I’m ready to stay out of this bed.”

  “I know, but some of those gashes could break open and bleed if they haven’t been given time to completely heal first. So, we’ll start slow.” She brings him a tray of food, which includes scrambled eggs, potato cubes, and toast cut from a loaf of homemade bread. “I convinced them to give you some extra eggs this morning. You’ll need the protein for energy with all the walking you are going to do.”

  “I thought I was getting off easy?” He spears an egg
on the metal fork.

  “The definition of easy around here is not the same as before the rise of the undead.” She inspects the larger of the dozens of bandages protecting the holes where chunks of flesh were carved from him. None of them show signs of having bled through. “Tomorrow some of the stitches come out.”

  I’ve been out of bed. A paper clip allows for easy picking of the cuff lock. I’ve planned my own recovery therapy to rehabilitate myself and return to my passion without the knowledge of these overly helpful survivors.

  They have built a secure compound preventing any infected from getting inside and when my health was questionable they kept me handcuffed to the bed. Now they make mistakes many living make—trust of a fellow human. My wounds left them with sympathy and I won’t allow my advantage to slip by.

  The armload of books hide the figure of a blonde-haired girl entering the room. Levin quells his excitement. She is the correct age. He won’t tip his desires. Before the end of the world I could go months without collecting a victim. I should heal and stalk them at my leisure. They have nowhere to go.

  “I brought some books for you to pick from. Might pass the time.” Emily places them on the tray table. “I’ll bring you something else if you don’t like these. A few classics but mostly adventure stories.”

  “Thanks. Are there a lot of teenagers here? You’re a little young to be a librarian.” Levin’s careful with his questions to prevent damage to the trust he’s built with Kayla.

  “Many older teens survived, especially those not spending all their time playing video games,” Emily knows she sounds like Ethan.

  “People are given jobs suited to their skills. Emily was selected based her aptitudes.”

  “Or lack of,” she pats her .22. “I shoot well enough to carry, not well enough to be a fence guard.”

  “Books must be vicious here.”

  “Everyone carries.” Kayla props her foot on the bed and rolls up her pant cuff to reveal an unshaven leg and ankle holster. “Once you are certified you will as well. And you’ll be given a job.”

  Kayla chops up a weed with a long-handled hoe in an herb garden constructed outside the kitchen entrance.

  “Is tending this garden part of your nursing duties?” Levin shifts his weight so most of it leans against a garden rake. A wheelchair rests behind him.

  “Not really, but we don’t have patients every day, so I like to help Wanikiya with it. The man’s a genius chef, but some basil and dill improve the taste. He’s got some peppers over there. When fall comes I can’t wait to enjoy a hot bowl of spicy chili.”

  “Is this part of my therapy?”

  “Getting out and moving is part of your therapy. We don’t have the machines a sports rehab place would use. And hard work is the new norm here.”

  “Tending garden?” Levin asks.

  “It can be relaxing. You move your entire body and you help with making our meals better.”

  “Sounds productive to me.” He exaggerates his leg movement, thrusting it stiffly out. He tills the ground with the rake between two plants. “You have a lot of space between these plants; couldn’t you fill it in with more?”

  “If it were corn, but herbs need lots of breathing room and they are only harvested as they are needed.”

  “A nurse with a green thumb.”

  “Not really. I just listened as one of the gardeners who planted them.”

  “Does everyone here work together like this?” Levin asks.

  “What we’ve built here hasn’t been easy and there have been a few incidents. Mostly we’ve had a few people slack in their work and they lose a meal. After missing food for a day no one seems to fall out of line. People like to eat.”

  “I guess Mom was onto something when she sent me to bed without supper.” Levin smiles. “Other crimes like stealing, muggings, fighting?”

  “There’s nothing to steal. No money is exchanged. We have more televisions and VCRs than people. Everyone carries a gun once they have been certified, and with everyone working there’s not much time for fighting.”

  “Sounds utopic.”

  She pauses before saying, “For the most part.”

  “So, it’s not perfect here?”

  “If you break the main rules you could be exiled, but we do have one cardinal executable sin.” Kayla doesn’t share what she witnessed a month ago with the young Kyle.

  “Are you not going to explain? I want to make sure I don’t break that rule,” says Levin.

  “You don’t look like a rapist.”

  “STUPID COW.”

  Hannah shoves and punches the black beast, but it refuses to move. It takes little interest in the weak blows to its side, instead focusing on chewing the green leaves of a tomato plant.

  “Ewwww.” Hannah throws her shoulder against the monster using all her weight and still no movement.

  She shoves even harder with her full body weight but gets no reaction. “I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

  A farm truck speeds up. Before the driver slams it into park, a boy about her age from the passenger side hops out.

  “Gotonoutofhere!” he hollers.

  The cow jerks its head still with a mouth full of tomato plant and scampers off.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Why are you apologizing?” She rubs her jeans with her palms in an attempt to clean them.

  “That’s one of the cows from my dad’s farm. We just up and moved here and the cows don’t know the boundaries yet.”

  “It would help if we had some fence.” Nick slams the truck door.

  Exited Hannah jumps into his arms. Her blonde ponytail cracking him in the face like a whip.

  “Good to see you too.” He sets her down in his soldier mode, rubbing his check.

  “They went to get fence to solve this problem. The cattle don’t need to roam freely anyway. We need to fence in a small pasture. Let them clean it off and fertilize it then move them to a new pasture and repeat. It’s easily done with some electric wire,” the farm boy explains.

  “Just because I’m brown doesn’t mean I give a flip shit about farming. I was born in Detroit.” Nick adds, “Jim Bob,” as insultingly redneck as he can slur.

  Hannah quickly changes the subject. “Electricity’s something we’ve got plenty of.”

  “For sure.” Jim Bob takes a .22 rifle from the truck. “You never realize how much you miss it until it’s gone.” He ignores Nick.

  “I thought you were assigned to guard the dam?” she asks Nick.

  “With all the new people to find jobs for, they just decided to leave everyone where they were and use the new soldiers to help place them in their new camp occupations. I’ve been with Simon getting anyone who needs checked out on weapons.”

  “Am I last?” Finally. This was just an attempt to keep behind the fence. Dad’s orders I’m sure.

  “You weren’t a priority for gun clearance like the soldiers were. Jim Bob will take over your guard station.”

  “I can’t move a cow,” Hannah huffs.

  Jim Bob leans against one of cattle panels running halfway around the field of tomatoes. “I’ve been doing it all my life, so it’s no big deal. I’ll keep them out of here and we’ll have plenty of tomatoes to preserve for the winter. My mom’s good at canning food.”

  “Is that all you farmers do is watch stuff grow?” Nick asks.

  Hannah slugs him for being a jerk. Her punch has no more effect on him than it did the cow.

  “Corporal, the day I stop watching stuff grow is the day you grow hungry.” Jim Bob points to the rows of staked tomato vines. “You take that plant over here; if it wilts anymore it needs to come out before it dies harms any of the other plants. And even if it’s just a weaker plant, removing it moves precious nutrients and water to go to the other plants allowing them to grow even stronger and make better tomatoes.”

  “I get it, you’ve got an important task. You keep us fed. I keep us safe. Seems like a good arrangement.”
Nick climbs into the truck.

  “It does.”

  Hannah must slam the truck door on her second attempt to close it. Nick fires up the engine.

  “You don’t have to be such a d-bag.”

  “He’s just some farm kid.”

  “I had a pretty easy life before the biters. I had no idea what goes into keeping food on our table,” Hannah admits.

  “Maybe you’ll shoot well enough to be a guard over a farmer,” Nick says.

  “Maybe. If I could’ve moved that cow, I wouldn’t feel bad about being assigned to protecting our food supply.” She flips her ponytail. “Besides, being out in the sun so much has made my hair even blonder.”

  “Be careful you don’t burn. There’s a little aloe Vera in the medical unit, and no sun screen, pasty white girl.”

  “I’ll tan, just not as good as you.”

  He smiles at her, and then sums up the courage to ask, “Do you want to go out?”

  “You mean like be your girlfriend?”

  “No,” falls out of his mouth way too quick. Nick backpedals, “I don’t know what there is to do. Bowling is out and movies are possible, but I meant go on a date.”

  “You figure out what kind of date we can have, and I’ll go with you.”

  “Would you consider shooting biters from a high vantage point a date?”

  “You’re not going to win any girl with that as your first date. Maybe a second, but definitely not the first.” Hannah smiles.

  “I’ll find something special.”

  “What every girl wants to experience on her first date.”