Age of Z: A Tale of Survival (13 page)

Lewis stared at her a moment longer, but Alexa was equal to that, and stared right back. She wasn't lying and she needed Lewis to understand that. It would be easier when they were inside for a more private conversation, but for now he had to know that Casey was okay. It worked; after a moment Lewis finally nodded and said flatly, “He's fine too. Come in.”

Alexa grinned and elbowed her companion once more. “See? What'd I tell ya?
Connections.
”

“Sure.” Casey shook his head in exasperation, but followed after Lewis into the compound. He walked a little stiffly, like he was still tense, but at least he didn't look like he was going to start anything anymore.

Alexa followed after him, pausing just long enough to give Joanne a smugly satisfied smirk. Joanne made a furious, spluttering sound and glared at her, but then the gate closed, and they were in.

Chapter 7

The inside of the compound was fairly barren, for the most part; like everywhere else on the island it was flat ground with no trees. The only visible people were still more bow-armed guards, who carefully patrolled the perimeter and stood at attention at the doors to the building. There were two structures–one large enough to count as a small warehouse, and the other smaller and more compact, looking a bit like a ramshackle cottage.

Lewis led them to the smaller building, ignoring the way the guard at attention outside the door saluted him, and waved Alexa and Casey through. The inside was relatively spartan, a single room that was a combination bedroom, living room, and workshop.

It held a few fixtures, a few dim electric lights, and little else. There was an honest-to-goodness solid wood door at the back of the room, something of a luxury and currently closed and locked, that led farther into the interior.

“I'm guessing you came to see Blake?” Lewis asked, watching them from the door. Alexa nodded, and Lewis added, “He was just finishing up with the generator for the night. I'll go get him; I only left him anyway to see what the commotion at the gate was about.” He gave Alexa a flat look and added, “Do me a favor and don't antagonize my guards next time, Winters.”

“Hey, she started it!”

“I don't care.” Before Alexa could argue further Lewis had already turned and left, heading towards the warehouse.

Alexa snorted, but at Casey's raised eyebrow she merely shrugged. “Lewis's an old friend too,” she explained, “but he's kinda... um... serious about his job. He's nice enough when you get to know him, he's just very, uh, devoted to the cause, I guess?”

“I noticed,” Casey said, with the faintest trace of a growl. Apparently he was still smarting from Lewis's distrustful questions. “What is the cause anyway?”

Alexa tossed her pack into one corner of the room and flopped down on a threadbare, lumpy couch that had seen better days but was still one of the most comfortable things she'd ever rested on in her life.

“Oh, Lewis's head of security for the whole island. He's the one that handpicks and trains all the guards for active duty here, that's why so many of them know how to use bows. He's also Blake's bodyguard, more or less.”

“Bodyguard?” Casey asked. He placed his pack next to Alexa's and gingerly sat on the other end of the couch, as though afraid it might not take his weight. It held, although Casey still sat kind of rigidly, but he always did that and Alexa had long since gotten used to it. “Why does this guy need a bodyguard? I thought the island was secure?”

Alexa snorted. “It is, but you'll see why when you meet him. Blake has a knack for getting himself into trouble even when he's not trying. It's sort of an occupational hazard, I guess. Having Lewis hanging around all the time helps deter some extra hazards.”

Casey looked a bit skeptical and seemed about to speak, but the door snapped open a second later, and a voice said, “Somebody talking about me in here? That's not polite, you know.” And the speaker breezed into the room, smirking, with Lewis on his heels.

He was eighteen by now, but a lot of hard work and not quite enough to eat made him look a lot younger and skinnier than he was. He was dressed casually in a worn-looking sweatshirt and cargo pants, the pockets of witch were stuffed with a number of work tools, which he calmly began emptying onto the table in the corner a moment later.

His hands were calloused, his dark hair unkempt, and there were dark shadows under his eyes, but even so those eyes still sparkled with just a hint of confidence and amusement. This was one person who had clearly taken the challenge of the apocalypse head-on and challenged it right back; no matter how many problems it threw at him he kept getting up to fight it again.

Alexa grinned at the sight of her best friend. “Blake! Still as scrawny as ever.”

“Alexa!” Blake's eyes lit up as he caught sight of the visitor on his couch. He finished dumping the tools as Alexa hauled herself to her feet. Then he darted across the small room, where the two exchanged an enthusiastic hug. “Man, is it good to see you! What's it been, six months?”

“Yeah, I had to winter down in Florida,” Alexa explained, as she flopped down on the couch again, chuckling a little at Casey's baffled look as he glanced back and forth between them. “Figured I'd gotten a lead, but it didn't pan out... that entire settlement got hit hard by the zoms ages ago, there's nothing left.”

Blake winced as he flopped down on the edge of his cot, apparently ignoring the way Lewis settled standing against the wall right next to him. “Ouch. Sorry. It wasn't on the network or I'd have warned you off ahead of time.”

“S'okay. Wasn't your fault, you did what you could,” Alexa shrugged tiredly for a moment, before remembering her friend, who still looked deeply confused by the encounter. “Blake, this is Casey. I found him in D.C. going it solo. Figured I'd bring him up here and show him civilization. He also has a …
problem
... I think you might be able to help him with.”

Blake raised an eyebrow at that, but knew better than to question for the moment. There were still guards about, and Alexa didn't want this getting too far; better to wait until the area was secure. Instead he glanced at Casey and said, “Hey, nice to meet you, Casey. Welcome to my town. Hope you've been enjoying it so far?”

“It's been... different.” Casey blinked, and then his eyes widened with surprise as he started putting things together. “Wait...
your
town?” He gave Alexa a cold look, and said, “When you've been mentioning 'your friend' and 'knowing the guy in charge', you meant
him?
”

Alexa laughed. “Not what you were expecting?”

“But he's a kid!” Casey said incredulously, gesturing at Blake.

“I resent that,” Blake said with a scowl. “I'm eighteen; legally that makes me an adult, not a kid. And I'm more capable than pretty much anybody else you'll find on this island.” Lewis snorted, and Blake rolled his eyes, adding, “Okay, okay, you know what you're doing too, Lewis, no need to get bent out of shape about it.”

Casey still looking rather surprised by the revelation, asked, “But... even if you are totally capable, do all these people seriously take orders from a eighteen year old?”

“Technically, they don't,” Lewis supplied quietly.

“There's a council that manages day to day affairs. Officially they rule the island. But Blake is the one who designed most of the defenses, and came up with most the rules... he was even the one to suggest turning the island into a stronghold in the first place. He's also keeps coming up with ways to modify the island so it's safer. Most of those councilmen defer to him for advise. Officially he's not in charge, but everybody knows who makes the real calls around here.” Lewis concluded by giving Blake a rather frigid look.

The lanky teenager did not appear phased by the glare in the least. He merely shrugged, saying with a smirk, “What? I can't help it if I'm a born leader. I'm just good at what I do.”

“I wish you'd be less good at it,” Lewis snapped in irritation.

Alexa raised an eyebrow. “What's with him?”

Blake waved a hand absently in the air, as though shooing the question away. “Not much. Another assassination attempt last week, Lewis's still a little on edge. S'why there's so much extra security too.”

“Again?” Alexa frowned, not entirely happy with Blake's indifferent response to yet another attempt on his life. “One of these days they're really going to get you. You've got to be careful.”

“They won't if I have anything to say about it,” Lewis growled. He sounded determined.

Casey's anger towards Lewis seemed to diminish; it seemed he was starting to understand why the head of security had been so harsh. Frowning a little, Casey asked, “Is that why you live way out here? To try and prevent attempts by staying away from the crowds?”

Blake rolled his eyes. “Well, partly. Lewis flat-out refused to let me take a makeshift apartment in the hotel with the rest of the councilmen, says it's a security nightmare. But I also stay out here for another reason–the generator.”

“In the building next door,” Casey said, eyes lighting up with sudden realization.

Blake grinned. “Yup! One of my early contributions to the Island Refuge, here.” Alexa noted, vaguely, that Blake still refused to use the nickname everybody else had given the island.

“I've always been pretty good with technology, so I figured out how to convert the generator to run off wind and solar power instead of diesel. But we had to set up out here for a reason–we have to ration everything, can't have people siphoning power for luxuries right now. So it's here, away from the crowd, where it can be protected. I live on-site to manage and improve it, and... other things too.”

“And people want to kill you because you give them functioning lights, medical facilities, and sanitation?” Casey asked doubtfully, looking back and forth between Blake and Alexa in confusion.

“Think about it,” Alexa told him. “We've been finding loads of beneficial goods to use as trade, right? Even a few batteries or cigarettes will go for a lot; it's post-apocalyptic wealth. Now imagine controlling the only source of power for miles around; it's like having the entire island in your back pocket. Mix that with having most of the council deferring to you, and you've basically got it made.”

And honestly, that's kind of underselling it,
Alexa thought to herself.

Blake was, quite frankly, the biggest success story post Z-day, and everybody had their eyes on him. It wasn't just because of the technological innovations, although that had a great deal to do with it; the generators weren't his only improvements, and Blake had gone to great lengths to improve upon manufacturing and reworking tech for supplies and weaponry, and even re-establish communications to a degree.

It was more than that. Blake had been responsible for organizing the retreat to the island and turning it into a veritable fortress, effectively saving hundreds of lives by establishing protocols and continually reworking the system for the island's benefit. He was charismatic, clearly caring about the people in his little domain and able to give them hope, something most of the refugees and civilians adored about him.

It was not uncommon for him to help out with more menial labor-intensive projects personally and he always went the extra mile to ensure everybody had proper health care or food when they needed it, frequently refusing special treatment for himself to do so.

“It might be the apocalypse,” Alexa concluded, “but people are still people. Some of them see massive amounts of wealth in the form of both literal and figurative power and they want a piece of it.”

“Among other reasons,” Blake added, almost conversationally. “Some people just don't like that I'm hogging all the power and want to teach me a lesson; they don't understand it has to be rationed. Some people just don't like having a eighteen year old effectively calling the shots. And we've even got a small fraction who think the world is suppose to end and they're ticked off that I'm doing everything I can to stop it.” He rolled his eyes at the last one.

Blake waved a hand almost casually and added almost as an afterthought, “After dealing with all that mess, what's a few walking dead?”

“Is he always this... nonchalant about the apocalypse?” Casey asked, giving Alexa a bewildered look.

“Better than being all stressed,” Blake said with a grin. “Stressing out gets you nowhere, you've got to keep your head in the game. Plus, politics are much scarier than zombies.”

“I think your friend is crazy,” Casey informed Alexa dutifully.

“At least I'm in good company.”

“
Blake
.” This time it was Lewis, who gave his apparent charge a cold look.

“Oh come on, it's like shooting fish in a barrel–” Lewis's look intensified, and Blake sighed, “Okay, okay, I'm done, I promise!”

Alexa shook her head in exasperation. It wasn't uncommon for people to develop a much more morbid sense of humor these days, but Blake took it and ran with it. Sometimes Alexa really did wonder if the stress of running the place was going to his head, while other times he seemed perfectly normal. Well, at least he had Lewis around all the time to knock some sense into him; Blake listened to Lewis.

She cast about for a change of topic. “So, you've got Russians in your work force now, huh?”