Dying Days 5 (6 page)

“The Lich Lord thought you might like to have some reading light,” she said. The girl smiled. “I’m Taylor. I’ve been taking care of you.”

“Thank you.” Darlene sat up in bed. “I don’t suppose he’d let me leave since that’s what I really want?”

Taylor shook her head and put the lamp on the small table and turned it on. “I have a room filled with books if you’re interested. Plus, a stack of CD’s and movies. There’s, like, six TV’s in storage right now.”

Darlene stared at the girl. She looked calm and relaxed. There was no fear in her eyes. “Sit down and talk with me for a little while?”

Taylor smiled. “Alright.” She went to the other side of the room and pulled up a chair. “What do you want to talk about?”

“How about you?”

Taylor shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell. I was a high school student when everything went down. Now I help the sick and the old as The Lich Lord finds them.”

“He finds people and drains them of their blood,” Darlene said.

“No. He is beyond that now. He hunts at night but mostly the stupid zombies. He destroys them and protects all of us. The only time I know he does anything is when someone is really sick or dying. He disposes of them so they don’t turn into zombies and kill others. But he doesn’t prey on us. He protects us.”

“Why?” Darlene asked. It made no sense to her. A cliché spun through her mind: the only good zombie was a dead zombie.

“Because he needs us and we need him,” Taylor said as if Darlene should already know the answer. “Without The Lich Lord, we’d have no electricity, no food, no shelter, and no protection from the zombies on the outside. Especially the other smart ones. We’ve been slowly building our safe haven, expanding one street at a time as more people come, and organizing our weapons and supplies.”

“He lets you have weapons?” Darlene asked. She figured she’d get as much information out of the girl as she could before she left. Darlene was also enjoying the company, too. She’d been feeling like a caged rat but at least talking with another person, and another female, she could relax for a few minutes. “I’m surprised no one has shot him between the eyes yet.”

“Why would we? Without him, we’d be overrun in days. I’ve been up at night, sitting on the roof of one of the bars, when he leaves The Ocean Center. Every night when it gets dark he roams the streets outside of the compound. By morning you can see dozens of zombie bodies ripped apart and, if he can find survivors, he brings them and we let them join us.”

Darlene wondered to what end the zombie was doing it, but decided not to push her luck and piss off the girl. She was obviously blinded by The Lich Lord and what he was doing for them. Taylor was awestruck and the zombie was like a rock star to her. “Has he said anything about me being free to go once I heal?”

“No. He doesn’t tell me things like that. I just help out you and all the other sick people. I think once you get better Jeff will be coming for you,” Taylor said and made a face. “He’s really a jerk and no one likes him but The Lich Lord says he has a place in the new world. He’s the guy who gets his hands dirty so the rest of us don’t have to.”

Darlene knew at some point she’d need to deal with Jeff. She stood slowly and stretched. She felt stiff but better. Her body was sore and she felt really weak.

“You said The Lich Lord needs us,” Darlene said, trying to ignore the problems she was having. A dull pain coursed up her sides and she sat back down.

“He does. It sounds stupid but I think we give him purpose. He used to be one of us. I think he misses being human at times. Vee says he is growing and expanding his mind but trying to stay grounded. He can’t walk in sunlight anymore for some reason. But he has all these weird skills. He can read your mind. I’ve seen him leap off a five story building and land on his feet. The Lich Lord can sense things, too. Where zombies are and where food and supplies are hidden. But sometimes… he just wants to sit and talk about music. Isn’t that weird? He saw my Avenged Sevenfold concert shirt and had me tell him all about them.” Taylor frowned when Darlene gasped in pain. “Are you alright?”

Darlene could only shake her head as a wave of nausea came over her. She struggled to lie back down in the bed, her sides feeling like they’d burst.

Chapter Eight

The tents were just where The Lich Lord said they’d be: hidden behind the Olive Garden near the Daytona Airport. He counted sixteen tents and twice as many people, all moving around like ants from this distance.

Jeff watched through the scope of his rifle from the fence line of the airport. They’d come in through one of the remote gates and parked their Harleys so they wouldn’t be heard. There were a few zombies wandering around the airstrip but a few well-placed blades in the head and they went down without too much trouble.

“What do you think?” the young guy to his left asked.

Jeff turned to him. He didn’t know his name and didn’t care. He was maybe twenty, long dirty hair and the start of a beard he’d never get a chance to finish. This guy was one of the newer recruits and he was nothing more than a human shield to Jeff. He was wearing a bright red shirt, even though he’d been told to change. “You like
Star Trek
, newbie?”

“The movie?”

Jeff nodded with a smile. “Yeah. The movie franchise and the television series.”

“I never saw it. My dad liked it, I guess. Why?”

Mitchell, who was standing behind the guy, stared at the shirt and then back at Jeff and grinned. He obviously got the gallows humor of the situation. “I think what Jeff is trying to say is: you’ve been promoted to the lead when we go down there.”

The guy smiled.

Jeff nodded at Mitchell and went back to watching the tent people. “I see maybe a dozen guns. They set traps a hundred feet away from the tents in a circle around them. Snares and nothing major. No explosives. A few lengths of rope attached to tin cans. They’ve been here awhile because they dug a shit trench and I can see a pile of refuse nearby. I’m guessing they’ve already cleaned out the mall and the restaurants and airport but we’re going to search ourselves at some point.”

“How do you usually do this?” Mitchell asked.

Jeff turned to the guy. He was starting to like him a bit, although, if push came to shove, he’d stick a steak knife between his ribs and be done with it. He was just another asshole in a long line of assholes who thought they could get on Jeff’s good side. “How do we usually do what?”

Mitchell pointed in the direction of the tents. “Go down there and talk to them.”

Someone behind Jeff snickered.

“We don’t usually go down and talk to anyone. We usually surround them with our Harleys and shoot the biggest douche bag we see. Then we take the women and anything we can carry,” Jeff said. “Only now, The Lich Lord has decided these losers are worth more alive than dead. I don’t see the point of more mouths to feed, but I’m overruled on this one. So… we’re going to go down without a show of force and talk to whoever is in charge. Explain where we are living and tell them they are welcome to join us.”

“What happens if they get mouthy or want to fight?”

Jeff grinned. “Then all bets are off and we shoot every last one of them. And gather our new belongings.”

“It looks like win/win for you either way,” Mitchell said and laughed.

Jeff didn’t know if he was being a dick or not. Maybe he didn’t like this kid as much as he thought. “Let’s go down there and have some fun. I’ll take you and Red Shirt,” he said and pointed at Mitchell. “We carry rifles but don’t point them at anyone. The rest of the team stays in position and shoots anyone who is about to kill me.”

The three men made sure their secondary weapon was in position in case it was needed, a pistol in the crook of Jeff’s back hidden under his shirt. He had no problem shooting people, but The Lich Lord had been very specific: invite this group to Main Street without a conflict.

Something had changed, small and subtle, in The Lich Lord. He seemed no longer interested in killing everyone not on their side of the walls. He wanted to help everyone still breathing and destroy every zombie walking.

Jeff had seen their leader hop over the walls (if he hadn’t seen the creature jump fifteen feet from a standing position, he wouldn’t have believed it) and come back before first light, covered in gore. But he wasn’t feeding on the living. He was ripping the undead apart. When Jeff did his daily rides to find supplies and other survivors, he could see the destruction on A1A. Bodies piled six feet high, stacked on the sidewalks.

And the bodies picked clean of anything useful and placed behind the pile in a plastic shopping bag and sometimes more than one. The Lich Lord was doing part of Jeff’s job. All Jeff had to do was collect the spoils of the battle and bring them home, as if The Lich Lord couldn’t be bothered to carry a bag filled with pistols, bullets and pocketknives back on his person.

Jeff passed out weapons whenever possible, but kept the best toys for his own future use. He was partial to AK-47’s and military-issue M4 carbines, as well as over a dozen knives. He even had a thick machete strapped to his Harley, thanks to The Lich Lord.

The room over the bar he’d taken over was filled with weapons, gear and enough grenades to blow Main Street to pieces twice over. He’d also found an SUV a few blocks from the compound, packed with weapons and gear, and he’d made sure it stayed hidden. Jeff needed an exit plan in case things went south, and he thought he was set. He hoped he’d never need to use it, though. He was beginning to enjoy the free reign he had when it came to weapons and women. As long as he did it all quietly.

“Remember, we’re not here to shoot anyone. Unless they fuck with us,” Jeff said. “I don’t think they outnumber us with firepower but you never can tell. I’ll do all the talking.” This late in the game, the weakest of the human herd had been eliminated. Only the strong survived. And everyone they’d met had been hardened by months on the run fighting zombies.

When the three rounded the corner, making sure they were wide of the building in case anyone was crouched inside or on the roof, the alarm went up in the camp. A bunch of the kids began to shout
people
and all the adults stopped what they were doing and took up weapons.

Jeff raised his arms, making sure the rifle was aimed at the sky. “We come in peace. We don’t mean you any harm. We just want to talk.” The three kept walking slowly.

There were more people than Jeff thought were present, as more women and children came out of the tents. They’d cut a trench all around the spot and strung barbed wire and tin cans in strategic spots. Someone knew what they were doing.

When no one stepped forward, Jeff finally stopped, inches from the barbed wire fencing. “Does anyone speak English? Are you a bunch of Russian immigrants without passports?”

An older man with a shaggy gray beard and thick glasses stepped forward, carrying a sword. “What do you want? We have nothing for you and nothing to trade.”

Jeff shook his head. “We’re not interested in trading or taking. I’m here to make you an offer, and a very generous one at that.”

A few of the people stirred but no one stopped pointing a weapon at the trio.

“We’re not interested,” the older man said after a pause. “Kindly go your way and we’ll continue to live.”

“Is this really living?” Mitchell asked.

Jeff’s first reaction was to punch the fucking guy in the face for speaking out of turn. He’d told him to keep his mouth shut and let him do the talking. When they got back to Main Street, Mitchell was going to get a beating he wouldn’t soon forget.

*   *   *   *   *

Mitchell knew he’d fucked up as soon as he opened his mouth. By the look on Jeff’s face, he was going to get his ass kicked when this was all over, regardless of how it played out.

“It’s living to us,” the older man said defensively.

Mitchell kept his mouth shut and looked at Jeff, knowing it was too late.

Jeff squinted at Mitchell and grunted before turning back to the leader. “It isn’t much living, I can plainly see. You have no running water and I’m sure every time you light a cooking fire a horde of zombies attack. I’m also sure you’ve encountered quite a few smart ones, and they keep getting stronger and smarter each day. From the looks of your group, I see many women and children and not in the best shape. I’m guessing your death rate is through the roof due not only to zombie attacks but disease and malnourishment. How long do you think you can keep this up?”