Books of the Dead (Book 3): Dead Man's Land (5 page)

Chapter 8

Field Work

The sweat rolled down Russell’s forehead, dripping into his eyes.  Spring was in full form as leaves filled the trees and many flowers were in bloom.  In the afternoon, the temperatures reached into the high sixties, which was a welcome change from winter’s cold and desolate grip.

His shoulders ached from hoeing the ground over and over again, but the day-in/day-out-exercise of working the soil had done his wounded arm and shoulder some good.  While it would never be 100 percent ever again, it was close to being back to fully functional.  It felt good to be able move it with a limited amount of pain, and he no longer felt the herky-jerky hitch in his shoulder. 

Travis managed the teams as they prepared the ground between the Manor and the golf course for planting. They had already done their first planting in the courtyard inside the Manor’s main walls, but this space outside the complex was where they would cultivate their primary crops.  Inside, they had planted tomatoes, potatoes, and other more specialty items.  Out back, they were going with the money crops, as Hub used to call them. Corn, soybeans, and a little wheat.  If things went well and the weather cooperated, they might have a decent harvest by the fall.  Maybe even earlier with the corn. In fact, they were counting on it as they knew foraging wouldn’t sustain them in the long run. 

It was back breaking work, since much of it had to done by hand.  Russell sometimes reflected on how primitive this seemed. Until the Outbreak, farmers used their massive John Deere tractors to do the work, sitting in their air-conditioned cabs.  With gasoline in short supply, they had been knocked back to the middle ages. Gasoline that could have been used to power the tractors and plows was being rationed for foraging trips. When it came to raising their food, gasoline was reserved only for the big jobs. 

This sort of work required lots of labor, but their ranks had grown over the past couple months with more survivors straggling in. This was a double-edged sword for the people at the Manor. More people meant more labor, but also meant a greater demand on their food stores.  The writing was on the wall. There were only so many cans of creamed corn, pineapple, and Spam to be had in the surrounding area.  Growing their own food was essential to their long-term survival.

Everybody pitched in or was delegated to work details. Teams worked from sun-up to sun down every day.  A select few actually enjoyed it and liked the idea of getting back to basics.  Another set took it on as a part of their responsibility, and the final set complained non-stop about how this was below them.  Steve Hampton was a part of this final set.

“Hells bells, it’s hot out here,” Hampton said, wiping at his brow while taking an extended break.

“It certainly is,” Russell said as he continued to work at the ground, moving a fist-sized rock from out of one of the rows he was working in. 

“I’m not sure why I’m out here,” Hampton said.  “We’d be better off if I were to stay in the guard tower.”

“We’re all on rotation,” Jo said, working two rows over from Russell and Hampton.  “It’s your turn in the barrel, like all the rest of us.”

Hampton groaned, but didn’t return to work immediately as he made a small production of pulling out his water bottle and taking a luxurious drink as the other worked around him.

A clanging of metal sounded off to their right, followed by shouts.  Nearly everyone looked in that direction and saw Brandon standing at the crest of a hill with a sword in his hand.  Aaron and Devin stood with him, also holding swords.  Brandon shouted something, and Aaron took up a defensive posture. Brandon moved in on Aaron, swinging his sword at half speed.  Aaron countered the move as the sword clanged together. 

“What are those fools doing?” Hampton asked.

“They’re practicing with swords,” Jo said.

“What the hell for?” Hampton asked.

Jo stopped, leaned on the handle of the rake and looked at Hampton.  “You see what we’re doing out here by hand?  It’s because we don’t have enough fuel to use the tractors.  Fuel isn’t the only thing we’re going to run out of.  At some point, we’ll run out bullets. Crazy as Brandon is, he’s looking to that eventuality.”

“But swords?”

“And spears and clubs and whatever else we’ll have to fight with,” she said.

“I’d want a mace,” Russell chimed in.

Hampton shook his head and said, “Then you’re as crazy as them.”  He pulled up his water bottle and took a long pull.  He was just about to put it back when a shot rang out, the water bottle jumped from his hand and fell to the ground as he jerked around, startled.

At first, he thought it was Brandon and his sword-wielding idiots, but he saw they stood just as startled as the field workers.  Another shot sounded, and Hampton, along with all the others, looked up in the direction of the shot to see Kara braced in one of the Manor’s guard rooms on the third floor. Kara moved slightly and fired again. 

This time, the field workers followed the trajectory of her aim and looked just in time to see a zombie (missing most of its head) spill down a gentle hill just three hundred feet away.  It tumbled into the body of another zombie.  A third zombie, seemingly oblivious to the plight of his comrades, but intent on getting to the human smorgasbord at the bottom of the hill, trudged on.  Another shot rang out; the zombie face disappeared, and it went down in a heap. 

A small ripple of tension flowed through the field workers as they waited to see what would happen next. These zombie incursions weren’t common, but they weren’t rare, either.  However, the appearance of three zombies was
very
rare.  It got people wondering if there might be more about to come over the rise. A few people at the Manor had seen a true horde of zombies and knew the terror they could invoke. The others could only imagine it, and that was enough for them.

The seconds ticked away and no one moved.  Some of the field workers looked to each other for some sort of cue on what they should do.  No movement came at the top of the hill.

“All clear,” Kara shouted.

“Whose turn is it for clean-up detail?” Hampton asked.

Travis strode up to Hampton and said, “That would be you.”

“Shit,” Hampton said as his shoulders slumped.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have help.  Russell, you can help.”

“Sure, no problem,” Russell said, dropping his hoe and stretching. 

“Can we use the ATV to drag the bodies?” Hampton asked. “It’s just over in the shed,” he added, pointing to the large shed just off the back dock.

“We can’t spare this gas,” Travis said, “but here’s the deal; after you’re done dumping the bodies in the pit, you can call it a day.”

For Steve Hampton, that was little consolation.  Quitting time was just a half hour away anyway, and handling the dead was a stinky and thankless job.  Hauling three rotting corpses back to pit was as appealing as having your fingernails yanked out.

Russell fell into bed that night, exhausted.  His muscles ached from a hard day’s work, but he felt good about it after months of hiding alone in town. The isolation had not only caused his body to atrophy, but also his soul, too, had felt as if it had shrunk and shriveled.  While having Paige with him helped, being among a group of people was what truly healed some of the psychic wounds of losing his brother and friends. He knew they’d never replace Cody, but these people were becoming his family.

The only thing needling his mind at that moment was Paige. She had been nowhere in their room when he came back from dinner, but that was nothing new. Her maniac need to convince people that they needed to go back to the church, bending any ear she could find, was stressing their already frayed bonds. He almost welcomed the idea that she wasn’t there because it avoided another tense argument.

He only became concerned when she wasn’t there in the morning and he discovered some of her things were missing. This concern intensified to worry when he looked for her in the Manor and she was nowhere to be found.  The ante went up when Russell discovered that one of the group’s vehicles was missing, along with weapons. 

Chapter 9

Panicked Interlude

“Paige is gone,” Russell said to me.  He was out of breath and talking quickly, his voice edging toward panic.  Brandon stood next to me, unperturbed, with his arms crossed.  We were in a hallway leading to the dining room.  A few people were up and heading to breakfast.

“Slow down, slow down,” I said, “what do you mean?”

“Paige is gone. I can’t find her anywhere.”

“Could she have gone for a walk or a hike or something?”

“No, I don’t think so.  She didn’t come back to the room last night. I checked, and one of vehicles is gone. And some weapons.”

He had my full attention.  Before, I thought he was just an excitable kid, but my heart beat a little faster.  “You’re saying she took one of our trucks and some guns?”

“I don’t know.”

“What
do
you know?” Brandon asked with an edge to his tone.

“She’s been trying to convince people since we got here that we need to go into town to check out the church.”

“But you said all of the people there are dead.”

“They are, but she doesn’t want to hear it. Since you guys….” he stopped, then continued.  “Since the leadership team turned down her request to go into town, she’s been trying to get others to go with her. It looks like she finally convinced someone.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to us about her doing this?” Brandon asked, crowding in towards Russell. Russell’s gaze went to the floor.

I put up a hand between them and said, “Back off, Brandon. That isn’t helping.” He took reluctant step backward and shot me a hard stare.  “Who would have gone with her?”

“Wayne had a brother there. Maybe she convinced Ben. He had family there, too.”

Brandon sighed loudly.  “So we have an undetermined amount of our people, in one of our vehicles headed into town with weapons.  How long have they been gone?”

“I don’t know,” Russell said, “but she didn’t come to our room last night. I’m guessing she would have left first thing this morning or just before first light.”

“So, she could have an hour’s head start on us,” I said, feeling my muscles tensing in my shoulders.  “Great. She’ll be in town already.”

“But we’re going after her, aren’t we?” Russell asked.

I hesitated for the briefest of moments, and his face showed signs of panic again.  “Yes, we’ll go after her.”  I looked to Brandon and said “Brandon, let’s get together a team.  I’ll drive; you can….” But he cut me off.

“No way,” he said, putting a hand in the air, “you’re not going.”

“I’m in charge. I say that I’m going.”

“And that’s why you’re not going.  Generals never do field ops.”

“Greg did.”

“And you see how that turned out.”

He had me there.  “Okay, okay. Go ahead.”
              “I got this,” Brandon said as he reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “One thing, I don’t want him going along.”  He pointed at Russell. This didn’t set well with Russell, or me, for that matter.

“He
needs
to go,” I said. “He’s the best person to convince her to come back.”

“Whatever you say,” Brandon said, sighing and raising his hands in the air, washing his hands of my decision.

Chapter 10

First Contact

Norman had surveillance duty.  It was dull and tedious, but Rex didn’t trust him with any advanced tasks with the soldiers, and he wasn’t up to snuff when it came to working on any of Anthony’s advanced electronic projects.  While his limited intellect best suited him to watching monitors, his mental stamina was a bit lacking.  His eyelids drooped after hours of tracking the bank of monitors in their security room.  He desperately wished that one of his old shows would magically appear on one of them. He’d kill to watch some
World Wide Wrestling
.  That or
Big Brother
.  Hell, he even watch Project Runway or some other girlie show. Anything to keep him awake.  Of course, those programs were distant relics of the past. 

His eyes had just about closed entirely when a truck appeared out of the thin veil of fog clinging to the highway.  It was on the monitor for the northern camera. He nearly tipped over his chair, but righted himself by frantically pin-wheeling his arms to regain his balance as all four legs of the chair slammed back down to the floor. The chair nearly broke in two, but it held.

Anthony had tapped into the solar powered video system of the house on the hill on the northern edge of town.  He redirected those cameras to fit his purposes. Instead of surveilling the city, as they had originally been set up, the cameras now looked northward, acting as an early warning system. The truck headed south on Route 23 and directly toward the city. A dutiful subject, Norman reported it immediately to Anthony and Rex.

“It’s too soon,” Anthony said, “and we’re not ready for an all-out attack.”

There was something in his tone that Rex didn’t like. It sounded like fear. Rex watched the monitor carefully for a few seconds and then said, “It’s only one truck.” 

“Out of the way,” Anthony said as he shuffled up to the array of monitors in their security rooms, nudging Rex to the side. He had graduated from his crutches to a cane in the past week.  His foot still ached terribly when he walked, but he felt he needed to man-up and show his troops he was back to near full strength.

“Are you sure this is the only truck?” he asked Norman and then added, “These church people are a crafty lot.”

“All the other cameras are clear,” Norman said, pointing to the monitors displaying views to east, south, and west. It wasn’t an elaborate surveillance system, but it was a real feat in a world almost devoid of any sophisticated technology. It was a true testimony to Anthony’s genius.

Anthony felt his blood pressure dropping. While he was confident he could protect his city from small bands of intruders, he didn’t think they could take on a full out assault.  “Okay,” he said, “I do think that’s one of the truck’s used by the church people who left town, but I can’t be sure.  Just to be safe, let’s meet these people. Shall we?”

They knew they didn’t have a lot of time before the truck would be in town, so they only gathered enough soldiers to fill one school bus. Rex took charge of loading since he knew Felix would only screw it up. It still took longer than he would have liked. 

Anthony moved as fast as his cane would allow him, limping along a long dark corridor toward the loading dock, pain shooting from his foot with each step, but he just gritted his teeth and kept moving along. The long bag he was carrying didn’t help his balance at all. He was just about to enter the back loading bay when a large silhouette filled the end of the corridor

“Where do you think you’re going?” the silhouette asked.

“Rex, get out of the way,” Anthony ordered.

“You’re in no condition to go anywhere.”

Anthony came to a stop just a few inches in front of Rex. “Get out of the way.”

“No,” Rex said, standing his ground. 

Anthony’s hand started to drift up to his control panel, but he let it fall away when he remembered that Rex didn’t have a collar any more. Old habits die hard.

Rex hadn’t failed to catch the gesture.

The team Rex had set in motioned scrambled around in the loading bay. Zombies moaned quietly as Roy herded them along like cattle toward a loading ramp that led up into the back of a school bus. 

“You and I both know you’re not fit to go out there,” Rex said.

“You’re failing to remember who’s in charge here,” Anthony replied as he felt heat rush to his face.

“You’re failing at being smart,” Rex said.  “How foggy are you from your last pain pill?  What happens if you get out there and you can’t see straight because the pain in your foot starts screaming at you?  I’ll tell you what; it’ll be my ass out in the open, and I could get hurt.”  He paused for a moment, then continued after taking in and expelling a large breath.  “You need to be smart and trust me, boss man. I can keep in touch via the walkie-talkie. If things get tight, you can roll with a second team.”

Anthony let these thoughts play out in his head for a few seconds before conceding that Rex had a bit more going upstairs than he had ever given him credit.  “Okay, but have a second set of soldiers loaded and ready to go.”

Rex turned and shouted into the bay, “Felix, get your ass moving, and load up that second bus.”

Felix sputtered out, “But…”

“Don’t give me any lip, or you’ll have my boot up your ass,” Rex yelled, and Felix went into motion. How efficient and effective those actions was in debate, but, at least, he was moving.

“We’ll handle this,” Rex said, giving Anthony a reassuring smile.  What’s in the bag?” Rex asked.

“Oh, just a little surprise,” Anthony said, “A little secret weapon.”

“If this is ‘need to know,’ then I think I need to know it,” Rex said.

Anthony wanted to put his little surprise to use himself, but he knew that it would be effective with whoever put it into play. He also knew he was being petulant, but, with some reluctance, he told Rex about this ‘little surprise.’

Rex’s away team consisted of the best handlers, which were Roy and Maggie.  The newer recruits stayed behind with Felix.  Rex only hoped Felix could handle them. Sometimes he wondered if Felix wasn’t just a liability, but he was moderately effective at times.

Taking everything into account, the wheels on the bus went round and round, and they were out of the door in less than twelve minutes. That wasn’t too bad, considering they had just loaded up over forty zombies, along with a boatload of weapons and ammunition.

He knew, of course, that the incoming truck would beat them to the city limits, but they had measures in place that would slow them down. Anthony had seen to that earlier.