“But we’ll have to live with the smell,” Deshaun protests.
“You’ll get used to it. Until we build a huge wall or other defenses,” Kale says.
“I know Kaleb said to build a farm, but why can’t we just scavenge and take from other survivors?”
“We must fold other survivors into our group and make us strong. Build a base of operations and defenses to prevent the undead from overwhelming us. We must be logical in our tactics. Barbaric raids and pillage techniques only work if there are people to replace what is plundered.”
“I see why they send you to college. Kade was smart, but you know stuff,” Deshaun says.
“I understand how human beings work and what must be done to stay alive in this brave new world.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.”
“End those Vectors, Hansman,” Kale orders.
The man jumps into the corral, knifing the closest undead. The others turn and snarl at the approaching snack. Hansman has no grace in his clubbing thrusts, but he drives the knife through bone quick enough to eliminate all six rotters before they bite him.
Kale scribbles on a pocket notepad: Militia, trained.
“Kale, will this stringing up the dead ones work?”
“Will it keep them away? No. They will be attracted to noise, but their dead smell will mask much of ours. Nighttime when all is dark and quieter, some of the rotters may move on.”
“Lot of work for little result.”
“Scarecrows always serve a purpose. For now, it gives the boys something to do. We need more trucks and gas to scavenge for supplies. If they just sit here, they get bored. Bored men do drugs, drink—damage women. All that stops now.”
“Mary, this is my brother Kale. He’s been to college,” Kaleb says.
Mary holds out her hand. She grips Kale’s limp wristed handshake with the force of a labor worker.
“Kaleb just found you?”
“I was with a group heading to Springfield. Many people have heard it is a haven for those who are worthy,” she says.
“Worthy of what?” Kale smells her ambition. And she could easily lead Kaleb around by his cock.
“Many people believe those without sin won’t be bitten. The undead are here to punish the wicked and the unworthy.”
“You don’t believe—”
“I find my time with God to be a comfort, but the rotten ones are not a punishment.”
“Kale, any of these people a reverend?” Kaleb asks.
“Are you finding religion, Brother?” She starts by converting him. I knew I didn’t like her.
“No, baby bro, I’m going to get hitched. As soon as I find a preacher I will take Mary as my bride.”
“I’m not sure what to say,” Kale says.
“It’s your idea. You want me to run this camp. Create normalcy. Not by drugs and forcing myself onto women. What better message than to take a bride?”
Fuck me. Fuck her and whatever logic she drilled into him. Older brother or not, he’s too dumb to think of this on his own. “If we don’t have one among us then we’ll find one on the road. We’ll have a wedding feast. Use up the last of beer.”
“You want to have a dry camp?” Mary inquires.
“At first. I want to get this group under control. They celebrated the destruction of Fort Wood a little too hard,” Kale says.
“We did party.” Kaleb snakes his arm around Mary’s waist and pulls her against him as to never let go. “Those days are over, baby. I’m going to build you a kingdom.”
What the fuck? Who is this woman? Even if it is in my head this woman has debased me to cursing. “We will build the kingdom, Brother. Are you taking Mary on your supply runs?” Better chance she is killed off the farm. To kill her here while he’s gone would have to be handled delicately.
“Once married she will run the show here. You’ll still advise me.”
Now would be the moment to throw a tantrum, but this woman may be an equal. I must embrace her. “Then I advise we keep the supply runs. I still need the maps from Rolla.”
“Sorry I never made it to the town. We found those survivors and raided a few houses. I see you’ve been busy with getting campers,” Kaleb says.
“Why?” Mary asks.
“Besides the added defensive measures, they will serve to house female companions.”
“You’re going to prostitute women?” Mary hisses.
Kale is unsure if her outrage is genuine or not, but Kaleb assumes her display of being offended. “I thought we were moving away from women as meat?”
“We are. They are part of the societal hierarchy I—” he corrects himself too late. Mary heard what he meant in the I. “We are building.”
“I don’t know, little brother.”
Calm. “Kaleb, we have to reward the men who protect this place and risk their lives gathering supplies. All the women who work will be willing.”
Kaleb glances at Mary, seeking her approval.
“Do you even know all your brother plans to do while you risk yourself on supply runs?”
“Well…” Kaleb stumbles over his words unable to answer.
“I think we need to iron out what you want. And while you’re gone, I’ll make sure it gets done,” Mary says.
“I KNOW I spend a great deal of time outside the fence, but after the beating it’s a bitch to get dressed, so if you dragged me out her— It better be good.” Ethan must use his hands to pick his left leg up and place it out of the truck. His fingers remain swollen and he detests not being able to properly grip his weapon.
“Dartagnan’s latest report demands more grazing land, even though we need more houses. We can’t keep people cooped up in the community center,” Wanikiya says. “The people from Fort Wood have left it overcrowded.”
“You also need to have scavenging teams going out, which means they could bring back even more survivors,” Major Ellsberg says.
“I get we need more homes and fields. How does stopping on railroad tracks twenty miles from the sally port solve those two issues?” Ethan asks as he stands. Once free of the cramped Humvee, he is able to stretch his legs and hobbles until his gait unstiffens.
“I have a proposal,” Major Ellsberg explains. “We expand the compound to these tracks.
“We build holding pens for livestock, warehouses, and a quarantine gate. We requisition a locomotive and run it up and down on the tracks.” He kicks the rail with the toe of his boot. “We travel with some livestock cars, storage cars, a flatbed with vehicles. We make it defensible from biters. The train travels near a town and acts as a model base for scavenging teams.”
Ethan kicks at the metal rail.
“Before you bring up the noise factor—”
“I wasn’t. You weld ‘shields’ to the cars and if a herd too large for them to deal with arrives, the train withdraws. A locomotive engine and five or six train cars will hit speeds faster than any undead hoard. You may want some cattle guard or battering ram imposed on the front.” Ethan envisions the future.
“You like the idea?” Danziger asks.
“I wish I’d of thought of it. One thing I was never into was trains.” Ethan contemplates. “It’s twenty miles to Paris, Missouri. It’s a lot of fence because we still have to fence in around the lake. Biters don’t swim but they do float. We don’t have the people to patrol such a large area and build more fence”
“It solves our grazing issues,” Wanikiya says, “and there are homes along the way.”
“What’s the village above that side of the lake?” Ethan asks.
Wanikiya takes map from Humvee. “I don’t recall. We never focused north of the lake. Not enough scavengable home to bother with.”
Ethan studies the paper.
“I’ve drawn better ones back at the school, but I didn’t want my detailed notes about our location to be outside the compound,” Ellsberg says.
“I keep my travel map in code.” Ethan asks, “Who knows about trains?”
“There’s an Amtrak station in St Louis, but I’m not ready to head back into the city,” Danziger says.
“Washington also has an Amtrak station. We send a scout team. What do they need to hunt for?” Ethan says.
“Manuals. Maps,” Major Ellsberg says.
“Would a train schedule help?” Nick has been a dutiful Corporal being seen and not heard until now.
“The trains don’t run, so doubtful,” Wanikiya says.
“Wait. It might tell us where some of the trains are housed or stopped.” Ethan draws with his finger on the map. “If we expand to Highway 107 and turn fence north to the lake. We then build a fence straight across the peninsula. Ending up near Otter Creek. It keeps much of the lake at our backs and we hit the train tracks just before Stoutsville.”
“You’ll need another sally port. Means another team of guards,” Wanikiya says.
“If Soutsville’s a village, why not just appropriate all the structures and make the city our base of operations for the train?”
“We’ll scout it, but it’s north of the lake. We’d need more fences and we still must wall in the peninsula. We’re talking about six miles from our main sally port before turning north and some eight miles give or take to Stoutsville, but we don’t have to go as far,” Ethan says.
“Fifteen miles of fence,” Major Ellsberg says.
“It’s going to take more people,” Wanikiya says.
“At some point, we have to thin out the dead,” Nick adds.
“Then the real danger begins. With fewer undead attacks we become complacent and lose our hyper-awareness to danger. More chance of stumbling into a nest of them,” Major Ellsberg contemplates on the future.
“We’re a long way from dealing with a few biters. The mission to Orscheln’s proved how even current intel means little when a herd moves in overnight,” Ethan says.
“The locomotive noise will attract them. We staff the train with sniper crews to pick them off while others search the towns. We armor the train cars so no undead scales the flatbeds leaving an easy retreat.”
“And scavenging whole areas at once has to mean less risk to our personnel.”
“I was thinking it might make us safer to the living vagrants; as we clean out areas others will avoid them knowing they are devoid of supplies,” Ethan says.
“Are we not taking in new people we find?” Ellsberg asks. “This operation will take a few hundred more people.”
“We will bring in anyone willing to conform to our rules. That is who we are until proven otherwise. After a time, some who remain out there will never become unferal,” Ethan adds.
“From what you tell us, Ethan, many have fallen to the dark side and refuse to return,” Wanikiya says.
“I wish we didn’t have to keep having this conversation but survivors survive because they are willing to do the unspeakable. Once behind our safe walls, people return to being human.”
“You can’t protect everyone from what’s out there. We know,” Major Ellsberg says.
“Knowing what’s in the darkness and facing it are two different things. You have to defeat it without becoming it,” Ethan says.
“Nietzsche?” Wanikiya asks.
“If it is, it is poorly paraphrased. ‘Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster.’ In this case, literal.”
“Those that live behind the protection of walls should learn to keep the counsel of those who wander without them,” Ellsberg says.
“Is that biblical?” Nick asks.
“It may become so in time.” Ethan hobbles down the track away from the Humvee. “We build the fence toward this location. It brings in the land we need and homes for our people. Construct the sally port and warehouse for offloading supplies. Figure out how we want to handle letting those on train missions back into the compound. Will the train sit outside the fence? It’s a lot of fence to enclose train cars, and the further out we send them the longer the train will need to be.”
“The warehouse is caged off. So, we don’t have to check everyone unloading, but if they want into Acheron we search them.” Major Ellsberg has prepped for his sales pitch.
“That puts warehouse workers at risk from someone hiding a bite,” Wanikiya says.
“It does, but those assigned to warehouse duty will know the dangers.”
“It’s feasible since any attacker will consider the warehouse an entry point or a source for supplies,” Nick says.
“Most edible goods won’t remain. By the time this place is up and running, many canned goods will have expired. We’ll be able to sustain ourselves with our own food sources by the time processed food is inedible,” Major Ellsberg says.
“We’ve a new goal. I’ll fill in Dartagnan, because these new numbers will send him to his chair,” Ethan says.
“It’s going to take more people. The distance alone means more fence patrols.”
“More fence?”
“We need a corridor so when we expand past the tracks people don’t have to be searched when they cross.”
“I don’t know if I want the train inside the fence. A biter could get stuck underneath the train, or even an invader. Eventually, some people will want to find a way to take what we have away from us. The train will attract more than undead attention,” Major Ellsberg says. “Eventually, this may be the way to recover supplies from the major cities.”
“We add train operators to our list of survivors to gather,” Ethan says.
“Won’t inquiring out such an occupation draw suspicion?” Danziger asks, recalling his failure searching the caravan for Levin.
“It might. But not more than when I was searching for a dentist,” Ethan says. “Send Karen’s team down this track. We’ll need a train.”
“And someone to tell us how to get from tracks to tracks. Can freight trains and commercial travel trains even operate on the same tracks?”
“We check the camp at the next town meeting. Someone may have experience or have a relative who knew something,” Wanikiya says.
“I don’t want to be a Debby Downer, but this will entail a lot of work to even get off the ground. The fence teams are nowhere near ready to bring the fence this far,” Nick points out.
“We finish the last round of fence first?”
“I think you’ve got to go to Kansas City, but there are trains in Springfield. Where masses of survivors keep traveling. We could open a trade route. Get a refrigerator car. Stock it with beef. Trade for cargo we can use.”
The reverberation of a car horn brings all of them to draw holstered weapons.
The Chevy truck rattles. Ethan has brought back a dozen of this model mostly for part usage so they have a few reliable working vehicles instead of twenty to be unsure of. The fool driving now swiped an unreliable automobile one to locate them. The hole in the muffler alone will bring a half dozen undead.
“Major Ellsberg.” Austin jumps from the truck cab as he slams it into park.
“What couldn’t wait until we returned?” Ethan’s hand grips his Berretta knowing the noise will bring biters—if they are lucky only one. “Shut the truck off! Your noise will bring attention to our position.”
“Sorry, Boss.” He twists the keys. “We got a radio message.”
“A what?” Wanikiya gasps.
“From where?” Ethan asks.
“Memphis. A Center for Disease Control location,” Austin says.
“I thought they were in Atlanta,” Danziger says.
“There’s an office location in Nashville—but not in Memphis,” Major Ellsberg says.
“It’s a trick or a trap.”
“It’s a testing location set up by the CDC and military to search for a cure,” Austin says.
“Fort Leonard Wood was the last active military operation—”
“Or so they told Travis or he lied to you,” Wanikiya says., interrupting Major Ellsberg.
“It’s some four hundred miles to Graceland. A bit long for a trip to a
n overrated pharmacy.”
“We find some more women and I could use some of those blue pills.” Major Ellsberg smirks.
“Joke all you want. The voice on the radio was trying to reach Fort Wood. He specifically asked for you, Major Ellsberg. Said he could prove it was not a hoax,” Austin says.
“Anyone can claim to be military, and a few words of lingo doesn’t mean shit,” Major Ellsberg spits.
“I agree, but this guy said he was Dr. Ellsberg. Your brother.”
“TRAVIS ASSURED ME none of the soldiers had family—” To prevent this exact argument. Ethan thumps his left middle finger on the library table. The gathering conclave of Acheron residences are more than Ethan cares to have in this discussion.
“Memphis fell. All were reported lost. Colonel Travis believed, as did I, my brother was dead along with everyone else,” Major Ellsberg explains. “From his demeanor, the complex has weeks to self-sustain itself. His research must be preserved.”
“A cusp of a cure is not a solution for the plague,” Ethan says.
“He’s my brother. He’s alive.”
“No questions he is who he says he is?” Ethan asks, not sure why anyone would want to face a call to Fort Wood.
“None,” Major Ellsberg assures.
“I can’t stop you from going,” Ethan says. As much as I need you to stay here, it goes against our founding principles. “It’s not a ten-hour drive. More like three-week hike,” Ethan considers.
“I’ll take a boat,” Major Ellsberg suggests.
“I’ve safety concerns about water travel and the attention it could bring. I want to scout an area to the south,” Ethan says.
“You haven’t healed.”
“I need to move my legs. I wake up stiff. I consider four-hundred miles therapy. You can’t follow main roads, nor is car travel reliable. You might get three miles and then find a road block. Did he indicate how long the base will function?”
“It was an open channel. A month with current operation staff levels. I’d say that was an overstatement to give the illusion they are stronger than they are. Two weeks, max,” guesses the Major.
No Room In Hell (Book 2): 400 Miles To Graceland Page 19