DEAD: Reclamation: Book 10 of the DEAD series (14 page)

“So you didn’t get the shot?” Paula asked.

“Hell no!” Cricket made almost a crowing sound. “Never had one when I was growin’ up. Damn skippy I wouldn’t just let somebody stick a needle in me and pump God knows what in my body.”

“But I heard it was mandatory,” I spoke up.

“Sure…but it don’t take much to get somebody to cross your name off’n a list. A few jars of this or that…some knives always need sharpening, and lots of folks don’t want to take the time anymore. Folks is slippin’ back to the old ways where laziness just kind of takes hold. If you can get somebody else to do it for ya…why bother doin’ it your damn self. So, zip-zip, pretty as you please, and old Cricket is marked as having done took his place in line.”

“So you aren’t immune?” I asked.

“Don’t know…ain’t never been bit.” Cricket shrugged his shoulders, but a frown put a dent in his smile. “Seen it happen too many times to count. And once folks knew that immunity might be possible, I think it made things even worse. That disappointment when the eyes changed and told the world you was gonna be one of them nasty creatures.”

“A zombie,” I said with a sigh.

“Ha!” Cricket laughed. “I got news for ya, Girly…a zombie is what them voodoo folks made poor people into down in the Caribbean islands. What we got here ain’t zombies. They are flesh eaters…and the young’uns…well…they are something else altogether. But I won’t never call ‘em zombies no matter what other folks say.”

“Can we argue semantics later?” Paula hissed.

We had come to the rally point. I was not surprised to see that we were the only ones to make it so far. The problem was that whoever fired that flare should definitely be here by now since we’d had to go all the way to the other side of Island City and then back.

“You waitin’ on them other folks who come with you?” Cricket asked as he hopped up onto a barrel that sat in front of what looked like some sort of garden shop. There were flowers—all wilted by now since nobody had tended them in a while—as well as rows of empty box planters. From the smell, I had to guess that the barrels were all full of compost.

“Just how long have you been following us?” Paula asked.

“I weren’t really following y’all. I saw you arrive and went to someplace where I could keep a good eye on you. When you split up, that was when I thought you might be a group sent by the folks that raided us. Seein’ as how they had emptied out the warehouses but left all the homes and shops, I figured they was comin’ back to finish the job.”

“And you were just going to watch?” I asked.

“The odds were against me. But when you all split up, it gave me a chance to move in. Only…you went into a few houses and didn’t take nothin’ when you come out. That made me think you might just be from one of the smaller communities in the area. I know of at least ten smaller groups that come in and do business with us. You can bet your bippy that if I showed up and the place was empty, I sure as heck would have to take a look.”

I shook my head. This guy was too weird.

“Paula!” It was Jackson, and he had the rest of the folks who had gone on perimeter search hot on his heels.

They came at a sprint, and that meant trouble. It was like, the closer they got, the drier my mouth became.

“We need to get the hell out of here,” Jackson said, his massive chest heaving as he tried to get his air back. The others pulled up as well, but they were all bent at the waist, hands on knees as they tried to catch their breath.

“Tell me.” It was amazing how calm Paula sounded. I had to fight to keep from dancing from one foot to the other.

“You saw the flare?” Shay asked.

“Yes, and we made for it immediately, but we missed you along the way somehow.” Paula was curt and to the point.

“We had to retreat down to the river and follow it back,” Shay explained. “That group laying siege to the town—”

“Rendezvous,” I blurted. Everybody looked at me and I felt my face get warm. I swallowed and then explained. “The name of that settlement is Rendezvous. Apparently it is some group from the valley that came over to get away from all the violence on the I-5 strip.” I hated how sheepish I suddenly sounded.

“Yeah…well they probably regret that choice,” Jackson said with a shake of his head. “They are being pounded. But this group is not like anything we have ever seen. I have done a lot of ranging and been to damn near every community in the Northwest. I have seen towns that were almost like the old days in how normal they were. Heck, Island City was heading that way…”

My mind was trying to process what was being said. Could there really be places bigger than Island City? It just did not seem possible.

“That group surrounding Rendezvous is only a small part of the main body,” Jackson continued. “I am being conservative when I say that they have to number over ten thousand. They have a camp set up at the old airfield.”

“How do you know all of this?” Paula asked.

“Because they left behind one of their wounded.”

Jackson did not need to say anything else. Obviously he had made the person talk. The idea of what that had to entail made me shiver.

“We need to go,” a familiar voice said. I looked over to see Jim Sagar jogging up. His backpack looked a lot fuller than when he’d left us. “There is movement in the valley to the south by the airfield. I think these people are flushing rabbits from the hole.”

That was something I understood. Jim was basically saying that this group, for whatever reason, was stirring things up. Then, when people came to investigate, they were hunting them down.

“You sure you want to stay, Cricket?” I asked. I don’t know why, but I just liked the weird old guy for some reason.

“Like I said, Girly,” the man patted me on the shoulder and smiled, showing off the gaps where teeth should be, “this is my home. I didn’t leave way back when things started. I sure ain’t goin’ anywhere now.”

We started off and I felt something grip my arm. I turned to see Cricket holding out his left hand. When he opened it, I looked up at him and shook my head.

“I can’t,” I insisted.

“You can return it to me next time we see each other if’n you don’t fancy it,” the man said in a gentle voice that was at odds with his ragged appearance.

I accepted the token and then started to go. I paused and turned back to give the man a hug…but he was gone.

We headed for the foothills. Unlike our trip here, we left a guard on our trail. Jackson and Jim found a spot that they could see most of the valley from while the rest of us continued home. We were within a few hours of home when they caught up to us. I already knew part of what they would report.

“They put La Grande to the torch,” Jim said. I could see a tightness in his face that was so very out of place. And if Jim was upset, Jackson was much worse.

“They made sure the fires were burning way out of control…then they retreated to the airfield. They were halfway out of the valley by the next sunrise. By my count, they put five other smaller communities besides La Grande to the torch as well.” With each word, Jackson was like a stone rolling downhill. By the time he finished, his voice broke off in a sob that was as out of place on him as a frown on Jim Sagar.

“But they were definitely not headed our way,” Jim concluded. “They were headed south.”

The rest of the journey home was in silence. Everybody was lost in thought. I had to wonder if this was the state of shock that I had heard so much about when people described how society handled the first days and weeks of the zombies. No wonder everybody got wiped out. I was numb.

8

Vignettes LVII

“We follow what was once called Glenn Highway.” George pointed out the visible gash in the land where a highway once existed.

The harsh conditions and weather of Alaska had practically pulverized the road, but it would be a long time before nature could completely reclaim the land. Juan wondered what things might look like in another ten years.

George was one of the five Athna Athabaskans that would be escorting them on the first leg of their journey. They would pass through three different tribal lands on their excursion, and at each exchange they would receive a new escort. The various tribes knew where to cross the numerous streams, creeks, and rivers that sliced through the Alaskan wilderness.

A few members of the Athna Athabaskan had come to the settlement to offer up any last minute items that might need to be traded for, as well as to offer a few letters for possible delivery in Anchorage. While there had been no sign of any deaders around where Juan and his people lived, that did not meant they were not a possibility. And it was not the human version that Juan had to worry about as much as it was the wolves.

There were stories of packs of the deader wolves travelling in great numbers along the highway like it was a watering hole in the African Savanna. Considering it was probably the only place where they might encounter the wandering humans with any regularity, Juan supposed that it made sense.

At last, they were on the move. Juan still marveled at the idea of being on horseback. He glanced over at Mackenzie who was driving the wagon. She seemed a natural as she gave a gentle tug one way or the other to keep the team on the main trail.

By the time they stopped to make camp that night, Juan was sore, tired, and just a bit on edge. The excitement of the trip had turned up the knob of energy when it came to Della. She quickly grew weary of watching Rufus drift in and out just as Juan grew tired of hearing about it every single time the dog closed its eyes.

With the fires going and the perimeter trip wires set, everybody settled down to a dinner of venison stew and hard bread. Juan and Keith finished first and then went over to study the maps with George. They were making good time, but as of tomorrow, they would be in true wilderness country. There would be no known settlement or single living soul for the next few days. That meant that they would need to be at their most vigilant.

They were taking note of how many stream crossings they would likely be making tomorrow when a scream pierced the air. Juan knew immediately what the cause would be and had his belt knife in hand before he had taken two steps.

Sprinting to his wagon, he heard a raspy growl that made the hairs on his arms stand up. Why hadn’t he just taken care of this before they had left? He knew that Rufus would die any day now, and the large, shaggy animal had been bitten at least a dozen times over the years.

Della and Denita were both scrambling out of the wagon as Juan arrived. It was too dark to see if either had been nipped, but the two were huddled close; both were crying, but not in a way that led him to believe they might have been bitten by the dog.

Juan reached the tailgate of the wagon just as Rufus’ large head poked out. The smell was almost as jarring as the sight of seeing his dog join the ranks of the undead. With one swift move, he brought his knife up and under the dog’s chin. The blade only hung up for a second before plunging through and into the brain pan. Juan gave a twist and a jerk to ensure that he finished the big dog off.

Just that quick, it was over. He turned to the girls as Keith and George moved in to remove and dispose of the carcass. Mackenzie was already hugging them both. She met Juan’s gaze and her expression froze him. He could not bring himself to consider what her expression meant.

Instantly he intensified his visual examination of the girls. He saw no signs of a bite or scratch. And while there was not an abundance of light, they were close enough to the fire that he should have seen something if either of his daughters had been injured.

He returned his gaze to Mackenzie and saw the first tears drip from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. A sensation like being punched in the gut came on so sudden and strong that it dropped the big man to his knees.

“No.” It was only a single word. But Juan struggled to get it to slip past his lips. His mouth was so dry, and he was afraid that allowing anything past would make it easier for the roiling sickness in his belly to find an avenue of escape.

Mackenzie stood and stepped away from the girls as Keith and his wife Mercy came up at a run. They took in the scene, and then turned their attention to Juan. He saw the looks of pity and concern.

“Come with me, girls.” Mercy was the first to act as she stepped forward and took Denita and Della by the hand.

Once she was gone, Juan hurried to Mackenzie. Sure enough, there was a small rip on her left arm. In fact, it looked like little more than a nasty scratch. How could something so minor be the cause of his undoing, the end of the dream that his life had become.

***

As she watched the small boat come closer, Gemma shivered. Not from the cold, but from the memories. She could not recall when things had spiraled so out of control. Of course, she had no idea that humanity had slipped so far from its perch.

She and Chaaya were just exiting from a set of flats where they had been searching for food when the three men emerged from the shadows. They had huge swords in their hands and their belts were decorated with a variety of knives and axes. What they wanted was abundantly clear.

Chaaya shot a look in Gemma’s direction and the two women actually stepped forward, placing all they carried on the ground. Raising their hands in a sign of surrender, the pair allowed the men to paw and maul them. Gemma let her mind drift to a place only she could reach. In that place, Chaaya did not exist, the man atop her faded into nothing.

She went so deep into her mind that she had no idea how long Chaaya had been shaking her. She blinked and looked around. The men had moved over to the things they had been carrying. Some of it they were simply tossing aside when it did not strike any sort of interest.

Gemma sat up and the men warned her to stay put if she knew what was good for her. She simply pulled her clothes on and sat with her hands in her lap. One of the men stood up holding her pack in his hand and dumped all the contents on the ground. He laughed as the other two men hooted and cheered.

It was sudden and jarring when the laughter ceased. She looked up and saw one of the men peering closely at another. His mouth was open and he had his head tilted to one side. Pretty soon they were clustered together and each one checking the other.

At some point, one of the men spun on the two women. Unfortunately for them, they had become distracted and careless. Gemma and Chaaya had scooted away and ducked around the corner of the closest set of flats. As they ran, they could hear the men cursing and screaming. The threats came in a torrent.

The men did not know that the women were often less than fifty feet away at times as the pair stayed to watch their handiwork. That night, one of the men decided that he did not want to become one of the living dead. Gemma was less than twenty feet away when he blew his brains out.

The other two appeared to be made of stronger stuff. They fought it until the end. At last they reached a point where they collapsed and could no longer go on. They chose—whether by coincidence or on purpose, Gemma would never know—the exact same flat that they had been coming out of when the barbaric men had found them.

Gemma crept into the room the men had chosen as their death bed and stood inside the doorway for several minutes listening to the two sick individuals as they struggled for each rasping breath. Eventually, she entered the room. Walking up to the first bed, she looked down with her best smile.

She stood there the entire time while the man first condemned her to the pits of Hell, then begged for her to grant him one favor and kill him. Gemma was unmoved by either speech.

At some point, Chaaya left. Apparently she did not have the stomach for this sort of thing. Gemma waited until the very end. When the first man began to shudder violently, an odd thrilling sensation rippled through her. She waited until he was still and then grabbed the huge sword that was beside his bed.

When the man’s eyes opened, Gemma brought the sword up and then plunged it down into the man’s chest, effectively pinning him to the bed. She then walked over to the other man who was unconscious but still alive. Once more she waited, but as she did so, she picked up another sword that reminded her briefly of the one that Harold used to carry.

Again she waited, and again she used the weapon to pin the man like a butterfly on a collector’s palette. Leaving the flat, Gemma entered the world to her new life. One where she would use herself as bait to lure men to their deaths.

At some point, she became known to survivors in the area as the Black Widow. She knew that Harold would have thought it to be really cool. She also knew that Vix would not have approved.

For years, Gemma was the zombie apocalypse’s version of Typhoid Mary, spreading her disease whenever and wherever she could manage. She stopped seeing the possibility of innocence. To her, all of humanity was guilty. At night, she drifted off to a tumultuous sleep plagued by nightmares of Harold’s final moments.

As the weeks turned to months that became years, her mind did her the “courtesy” of blanking out the despicable things that had been done to her by her captors. All she remembered was Harold. She remembered the violence of his death. She could no longer remember why she was doing what she did, but she felt vindicated and justified for some unknown reason.

She was wandering the ruins of a village when she came across the Irishman and three of her fellow countrymen. Only, one of them was a woman. The closer she got to the group, the more she recognized the woman.

She was still staring when the woman’s head popped up and she looked around, obviously feeling that she was being watched. Her eyes scanned like a hawk’s and came to a halt on Gemma.

Suddenly frightened, and no longer having the heart to do away with any of these people, Gemma turned and ran. She could hear Vix’s voice calling after her, but she only ran faster,

A few days later, Gemma ventured back to the same area. She had no reason beyond curiosity. She was surprised to discover a series of red ribbons tied to all manner of things. Each one had a note that read exactly the same:

Gemma,

I will return in two weeks. If you read this, please meet me. If nothing else, I just want to be able to talk to you in person.

Vix

***

Chad held a finger to his lips. He pointed to Ronni and then the new girl Melody Whittaker, then he hiked his thumb over his shoulder back toward where the cabin would be located.

Ronni’s face darkened a little, but she nodded in agreement. Chad then pointed to Caroline and then to a high hide they had mounted in a cluster of nearby pines that grew close together. That was actually a fallback spot for them in the event that a herd of zombies came through. The hide was stocked with plenty of food and water in large jugs that they had salvaged from the cabin campground down by the lake that these strangers were currently searching through.

Caroline gave a nod and then started her climb. Chad was glad that he had insisted on putting a bow along with over a thousand range arrows up there.

Once he was satisfied that everybody was where they should be, Chad began to move quietly down the hill. They were prepared for more than just zombies. Chad had already dealt with more than enough monsters of the living variety to not have a plan in place for just such an occasion.

Moving slowly, he could see an occasional figure weave through some of the heavy growth that would probably obscure that cabin campsite from the world forever within the next few years. Already, a lot of the small wooden structures were leaning or had already collapsed due to the regular deep and heavy snows coupled with absolutely no maintenance or upkeep.

A pair of individuals stepped out into a small clearing and Chad felt his lips press tight. He had mistakenly thought that this group of searchers was comprised of exclusively men. However, one of them had pulled her knit cap free to allow her blond hair to cascade down past her shoulders. He brought up his binoculars to confirm that it was not just a delicate featured male.

“Dammit,” he breathed.

And not only was it a female, but, if he was being honest with himself, she was quite attractive. She had a perfect oval face and a slightly upturned nose that was flawless in its small size and defined form.

“Well…can’t be helped,” he muttered as he moved over beside a small piece of twine that was tied off to a stake just under the cover of a group of ferns.

Pulling his knife from his belt, he took one last look down into the cabin area. Luck seemed to be on his side as three others joined the two he had just spied. If he and Caroline had been correct, that was all of them in this group.

He gave a flick of the wrist, severing the taut strand of twine. There was a moment’s pause, and then a tremendous clatter. He was able to bring up his binoculars just as the entire group rushed in the direction of the sound.