Siege (24 page)

“Really?”

“Yes. Every woman that can have a child will need to produce a future citizen of the fort. We must get our population up so we can make sure to keep things moving toward a secure future.” The Major General gave him a warm smile. “It’ll be rough at first, but the good old American know how will get us through.”

“So, you guys will kinda divide us up, tell us what to do, take over the running of the fort?”

“Yes. Your people won’t have to worry about it. You’ll have an experienced Senator to govern and a trained military force. Sounds good doesn’t it?”

Tilting his head to one side, Bill took a deep breath, eyeing the throng of decaying dead outside the walls.

“What do you think, Bill?”

Bill took a deep breath and in his deep Texan drawl, that he deliberately twanged out, answered,

“Born, raised, and lived as a Texan, sir. Aim to die as one. So, about America, she was good to me, but this is frontier land again. And if you don’t see it that way, yer fucked. This is Texas. We don’t take kindly to being told what to do.”

The Major General blinked at him. “I don’t understand.”

“This is Texas, sir. We aim to do what is best for ourselves and our family. Your government, your military, they don’t exist anymore to us. We’ll do our own thing. Find our own way.”

“You’re saying the people at the fort won’t welcome our leadership?”

“No, sir. I am saying they will tell you to fuck off.”

The man’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“Think I’m done now,” Bill said firmly.

The Major General slowly nodded and motioned to a soldier to lead Bill back into the mall. Bill was more than glad to get out of the view of all the zombies outside the walls, but the mall wasn’t that welcoming either. People were eating breakfast and heading off to their work assignments. The heat was off and the cold made him shiver. It felt more like a prison than a home. He didn’t know how the people had mentally survived so long in such a sterile and cold environment.

He spotted Jenni at a table, sitting down to breakfast, and headed over to her.

“Well?” She flipped her long dark hair over one shoulder. “What was the big deal with that guy wanting to talk to you?”

“He wanted to talk my ear off and show me what is going on outside.” He slid onto the chair next to her and shook his head.

“What is going on outside?” Jenni poked at her congealing oatmeal, her expression one of slight disgust.

“We’re in the gawddamn Alamo,” Bill answered gruffly.

“Seriously?” Jenni grimaced.

“Only difference, Mexicans didn’t eat the people in the Alamo,” Bill muttered.

Jenni leaned her head on his beefy shoulder. “Damn. We sure are good at getting ourselves into trouble.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. This place makes the hospital look like a cake walk.” Bill exhaled long and hard. He slid his arm around Jenni’s shoulders and hugged her to his side. “It’ll be okay, Jenni. We always figure something out. We’ll figure a way out of this.”

“I don’t think my old method of whacking zombies with my ax is going to work,” Jenni decided grimly.

“Nope. But we gotta trust our friends are going to be looking for us and hopefully something can be worked out.”

Jenni lifted a spoonful of the oatmeal and slowly turned it over. The oatmeal clung to the spoon. “Ugh. I hate the food. I’d kill for something sugary and crunchy.”

“Did you notice the people around here?”

Turning her gaze from her spoon, Jenni looked around. “Hmm...”

Bill smiled at a woman sitting across from them, but she looked away.

“They all have given up hope. They’re like ghosts. Just wandering around. Kinda empty.”

Jenni slowly swiveled around in her chair, looking at the people seated around them. There was barely a whisper of conversation among them. Side by side, they sat in silence watching the people all around them talk, eat, and drink.

“I want to go home,” Jenni whispered.

“We will, Jenni,” Bill vowed. “We’ll go home.”

2. Speaker of the Dead

Travis sighed and tried hard not to look at the clock hanging over the check-in counter in the lobby. He hated waiting. It was sheer torture. It always made him feel as though someone had decided to churn butter in his gut. Charlotte, Belinda and the Reverend were operating on Juan in an attempt to remove the bullet and the suspense was killing him. He was also completely exhausted even though it was just ten in the morning. He was having trouble focusing. Of course, he hadn’t slept a wink the night before. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned. At least he wasn’t alone as he waited to hear if Juan would pull through. A collection of Juan’s friends and family were gathered in the lobby waiting for the word. Rosie sat nearby, clutching her rosary, and softly whispering, “Hail Mary, Full of Grace…”

Nerit sat next to her, her hand gently resting on Rosie’s, eyes closed, seeming to meditate.

Jason was sprawled on the love seat next to the couch Travis was sitting on reading a Star Trek novel Roger had loaned him. The boy looked absolutely morose and Travis couldn’t blame him considering the drama encompassing the boy’s life. His mother was in the hands of the military, his friend and teacher was missing, and his somewhat stepfather was in surgery. Despite his surly teenager routine with Juan, Travis had noticed a considerable thaw in how Jason felt about Juan. It was just too much for anyone to handle. Jason’s way of handling it seemed to be to sink down into the love seat and read, his hair falling over his eyes to hide his tears while Jack lay next to him looking very sad.

Travis looked down at Katie. She was sprawled out on the sofa, her head resting on his thigh as she slept. He slowly drew his fingers through her hair, once more marveling at the softness of her silky curls. It was a relief that she had fallen asleep. The stress of the last twenty-four hours had worn on her. She had began to suffer from vertigo, and Travis had made her lie down. He knew she had slept fitfully the night before. He was relieved to see her soundly sleeping.

Again, he tried hard not to look at the clock.

Picking up the pencil on the end table next to him, he started to write notes and sketch a possible extension to the fort. Yes, he was most likely a workaholic, but working made him feel more in control and relaxed. He hated feeling helpless. He hated feeling there was nothing he could do to remedy a bad situation.

Most of his life he felt helpless. It wasn’t until the fort had risen from the ashes of the former world that he felt he had found his place. It had been Travis’ misfortune to be born good-looking. He had even won baby beauty contests that his grandmother had entered him on the sly. His parents were too busy working to save the earth to notice he was anything more than their smart little boy. But others saw a golden child. The good-looking shall inherit the earth and all that.

In kindergarten he had been chased around by little girls determined to kiss him while all he had wanted to do was build sand cities in the sandbox.

In junior high, girls had bugged him continuously as he tried to draw buildings and cities of the future.

In high school, he had been stalked relentlessly by the popular girls. He had finally resorted to growing his hair out and being as scruffy as possible his sophomore year. This had just landed him bad boy status, which had the girls mooning over him even more.

By his junior year, his love for running landed him the role of track star. His enjoyment was short-lived when the school’s football coach decided he wanted to put Travis’ speed to use on the football field. Out of frustration, Travis had quit altogether.

Even his choice of Leilani, an exotic belly dancer, who was also on the school newspaper, had been protested by others. A teacher even told him,

“Travis, you could so easily have Jennifer if you’ll give up on Leilani.” Of course, Jennifer was the head cheerleader. He had managed to keep his alternative girlfriend until graduation, but she had to deal with being called “bitch,” “whore,” and “slut” until graduation day by those who felt spurned by Travis.

College had been a bit of a relief. He was finally able to just blend in and he had found joy in pursuing his political interests. He had plunged whole-heartedly into the laid-back, alternative lifestyle community that lived around the University of Texas campus in Austin and spent too many hours stoned out of his mind down near Town Lake.

He had surfaced from the madness a year later, tattooed, long haired, and feeling quite satisfied with his year of wildness. It was then he felt free to jump fully into academia, pursuing a double major. He studied architecture out of sheer love for the art of it and studied to become a city planner for the love of helping people. Things had gone well until he had met Clair, the woman that would change his life.

Her beauty and sparkling personality had worked magic on him. By the time he had graduated, he found himself ensconced in her father’s architecture firm building high rise buildings in Houston and living a life he had never imagined for himself. He won awards and was given huge bonuses. He dined at the finest restaurants and vacationed at the best resorts. But one day he woke up and it all meant nothing. He realized he had lost his soul and forgotten his desire to help people. In months everything was sold, the girlfriend was in the past, his expensive suits were at Goodwill and he was in a truck heading into the Texas Hill Country to help restore an old historical town. Now he was helping rebuild the town in a way he never imagined. People in the fort saw Travis as a leader. He saw himself as a helper. He was helping build a new life and making sure it was safe. He was Katie’s husband and their child’s father and that was good enough for him. All the rest of it, the looks of admiration, the looks of disdain, the arguments, the accolades, were meaningless when he looked down into Katie’s face and understood his role.

“I always loved looking at her when she slept,” a silky, deep voice said. Looking up, Travis saw a very tall woman gazing down at them. She was very slim and wore a black dress with long sleeves and a skirt that brushed over the toes of her black boots. She sat down next to Jason and smiled at Travis.

Blinking, he took in her short cropped brown hair with auburn highlights, amazing cheekbones and shining eyes. Ornate native jewelry decorated her throat and wrists.

“She just looks so innocent when she sleeps, though every once and awhile, she gets this furrow right here,” the woman said, leaning over to point between Katie’s eyebrows. “That is when you know she’s arguing a case in her sleep.”

“Lydia,” Travis whispered.

“Yes,” she answered with a dazzling smile.

He noted her hands were long and elegant. She wore a diamond wedding band.

“Then I must be asleep,” Travis decided.

“Yes, you are,” Lydia assured him. She tilted her gaze to look at Katie. Her eyes glimmered with unspoken love and she smiled a bittersweet smile.

“She looks beautiful pregnant.”

Travis knew this was a dream, but he felt awkward. Meeting the-well, she wasn’t really the ex--but his wife’s former wife was odd.

“We…eh…oh…um…”

Lydia laughed. “Don’t worry, Travis. Life goes on for the living. I know that. I would never want to hold her back from loving again. From living. I will always love her and I just want her happy.”

“But,” Travis rubbed his brow, wincing with embarrassment. “I’m a guy.”

“Yes, you are.” She laughed with delight.

Travis continued to grimace.

Lydia’s hand reached toward him, but she didn’t quite touch him. “It’s all right, Travis. The heart loves without boundaries. It is the mind that can trap the heart with cages constructed by society’s rules. Katie always had a beautiful open heart.”

Travis forced a smile, feeling nervous. “Why am I dreaming about you, Lydia?” He understood he was asleep and this was all a dream, but somehow it felt important. It felt amazingly real.

Lydia’s smile faded a little and she sat back, crossing her legs. “Travis, you need to understand something important. I’m here to give you a message.”

“About Katie?”

“About you.” She tilted her head and gazed at him with a serenity that was both comforting and disconcerting.

“Oh?”

Leaning forward, her eyes gazed steadily into his. “You need to understand that the world has changed. The veil between the living and the dead is very thin now. The worlds have blurred and nothing is as it was. Many have died and will die as the world tries to regain balance of some sort. The dead are all around you. Not just the empty shells that are trying to kill you, but the spirits of those trapped by the massive upheaval that took place when the dead seized the world from the living.

“Like you,” he said softly.

She nodded. “Yes. I have yet to move on. But soon the world will find a new balance and I will.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened to you, Lydia.”

“Being a good Samaritan sometimes gets you killed. Trust me. I know.” A shadow of pain flitted over her features, then she swept it away with a wave of her hand. “This is something you need to learn.”

“What are you saying?” He narrowed his eyes.

“You want to save everyone, Travis, and help all of them be safe. But this world is not safe. Nothing is as it was. Very soon you will fully understand the sheer fruitlessness of trying to control everything around you. You will need to make choices for yourself, Katie and the baby. Others will make choices for themselves as well. These choices may lead to life or to death.”

Frowning a little, Travis looked down at his wife, then up at Lydia. “They are my priority, Lydia. Katie and the baby.”

“Are they?”

He swallowed hard, remembering how anxious he had been to risk his own life to try to help Juan. Tears filled his eyes and he looked up at Lydia. His voice caught in his throat and he said, “You’re right. I just want to help everyone.”

Lydia smiled at him tenderly. “I know. I know. But it is time for you to begin to let go of all the reins you have been holding and concentrate on your family. Soon, very soon, everyone will have to make choices for themselves. You, Katie, and everyone around you.”