Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict (18 page)

The
California group was particularly large and supposedly held their leader. This
band had also destroyed a military unit outside Las Vegas. The details were
sketchy, but it seems to have been a matter of surprise and superior numbers.
However, our new friends had not known of the destruction of the third group.
If they could be wiped out, maybe the same had happened to their comrades.
Yeah, right. As if our luck was that good.

And
because they had such a large radio network, our new friends were able to
provide us with additional information. On the distressing side was the fact
that everything east of the Mississippi River was gone. There had been too many
people in too small an area, leading, correspondingly, to a tremendous number
of zombies. With nowhere to run and little room to maneuver, the survivors were
quickly trapped and eliminated, as often as not dying of starvation in their
hidey holes. There were probably people hanging on here and there, but no large
groups were known to exist. Even the military had withdrawn from that part of
the country, moving what they could to nearby islands.

California
was in much the same condition, particularly the cities along the Pacific
coast, such as San Francisco, Los Angeles, and San Diego, although some of the
rural areas in the mountains might hold a handful here and there. Before
departing, the military had reported that large numbers of zombies were
filtering into the desert heading east. It was likely the raiders hanging about
that area had since moved on. Between southern California and Vegas, there had
to be too many shamblers to risk staying.

Those military
units in the west, along with any civilians the soldiers managed to rescue, relocated
to nearby islands and Hawaii, which had apparently been cleared of the dead,
excluding Oahu which was a work in progress. There were a few mainland bases
still in operation, but the reports indicated that all remaining personnel
would be flown out within a few weeks. The continental United States would be
left to fend for itself.

*
* *

“Sure
you don’t want to come back with us?”

“No
Jacob, I’ll be staying here.”

I nodded
at Mr. Myers – he was the sort who immediately garnered your respect – since
there was nothing else to say. The fellow was in a solid position. They were
isolated, even more so than us, and had the support of all the other groups in
the Ranching Collective. On a side note, that’s the name Mary gave the Wyoming
refugee system.

“But
those who do want to go are on their way. They’ll be here come tomorrow.”

“And
they’re really bringing us a transmitter?” asked Lizzy.

“Should
be,” he replied. “Got Harlan coming too. The man’s a dedicated hobbyist, always
on the short wave radios, and he knows the equipment inside and out. You’re
close enough to talk to us, some of us. We have to relay messages.”

“I don’t
mind. I’m just happy we’ll be getting regular reports. We’ve been dying to
learn about the rest of the world, and don’t worry. We will refrain from
mentioning any locations or landmarks.”

Due to
the brutality of the raiders and other gangs, such matters were to be kept
quiet. Accordingly, we decided not reveal the placement of our own settlement, except
to say it was in the northwest corner of Nebraska.

While
most living on the ranches chose to stay where they were, several had jumped at
the opportunity to join us. In addition to Harlan, there were two families and
a scattering of others who, for whatever reason, wanted out of the area. Mr.
Myers assured us they were all decent enough folk, so I wasn’t too worried. He
didn’t seem the sort to lie, but if it turned out they were dumping criminals
or troublemakers on us, there would be a severing of communications followed by
mass exile. Our updated count would now be:

Men           22

Women      25

Children     8

“Think
you can do us a favor?”

“Probably,”
I answered. “What do you have in mind?”

“That
rig of yours. Think you can move some beef for us?”

“We
talking living or dead?” asked Marcus. “I’m not equipped to be moving cattle.”

Mr.
Myers laughed. “Sides of beef, already cleaned and wrapped. We want to drop
some off at a fire station. It’s a little place out in the middle of nowhere, used
to service some farms. No need for that now, but there’s a good view of several
key roads, and the people there keep an eye out for the rest of us. Harlan’s
been. He’ll show you the way.”

“No
problems with that,” I said. “What you think Lizzy?”

“Like
you give a damn about my opinion.”

She was
glaring. I wonder if I’d done something to annoy her or if she was just being
pissy.

“Well?”

“Lizzy
thinks it’s a great idea,” giggled Mary. “She’ll even help load the truck.”

The look
of annoyance shifted, but the thirteen year old didn’t seem to care.

“An easy
delivery,” said Marcus, “provided the roads are clear.”

“Clear
enough to get by on,” assured the older man. “I was down that way a few weeks
ago myself. Oh, and remember where that place is too. It’s one of our run to
spots in case of trouble. Came up with the idea after the explosion. Harlan
will get you set up fast as well. Once you have the radio working, call in so
we know everything’s good. It’ll be nice to get more people on the network.”

“Now, if
only television would come back,” said Mary, wistfully.

*
* *

We left
late the following day, reaching the fire station shortly before dark. It was
definitely off the beaten path and contained far more space than the three man
crew required, so we spent the night there. It also gave us a chance to get to
know the newcomers and ensure they understood our rules. Yes, I know I was
becoming a stickler on that count, but there were to be no misconceptions or
misunderstanding or willful denials. Everything had to be clear.

Most of
my time was spent with Harlan, due to the knowledge he possessed. It was a
shame we didn’t pick up any doctors or nurses, but those proved the most
adamant about staying where they were. Still, we now had a place to send our
sick and injured, if need be, and we could use the radio to get professional
advice. Briana would be relieved.

Remember
Tim, the short kid? He was actually fourteen, just a few months older than
Mary. The lad tried to hit on her, which was understandable since Mary is more
than a little cute. She was polite and sweet as usual, but the girl didn’t show
any particular interest. She was far more experienced than him, and it showed. That
did not come out the way I intended, so no thinking dirty thoughts about our
resident, overly happy angel.

Tim is
Mr. Myers’s grandson, and he’d been at the ranch when it all begun. Aside from
a few trips to other, nearby homesteads, the boy had not left the safety it
presented. He did not hunt zombies. He did not go into overrun towns looking
for survivors or to loot shops and houses. He had not seen friends and loved
ones ripped to pieces while he was unable to do anything to prevent it. In
short, Tim was one incredibly fortunate young man. Still, this difference in
background created a massive gulf between him and Mary. He was focused on
clothes, sports, and riding. She wanted to talk about all the close shaves we’d
had, the time so and so got eaten, how many zombies she’d personally destroyed.
Even a mutual love for dreadful music was not enough to overcome this variation
in worldview. And the accursed, evil, conniving Tim had gifted Mary with CD’s,
all of them for the previously mentioned bands whom I hated so very, very much.
That was just wrong.

*
* *

“Better
stop Jacob.”

“Huh?” I
glanced in the rearview mirror. Laura’s pickup had pulled off the highway. “Ask
Lizzy what’s happening.”

I swung
about and headed back toward the others, all of whom had been behind Laura.

“Hey
Lizzy, what’s going on?”

“Don’t
know,” she replied, on the radio. “They just stopped, and Kenneth jumped out.”

“Weird,”
muttered Mary.

That it
was. We were on US-20, heading back toward the national forest, quite close to
the state line and only a few hours from home. Why stop here?

“Kenneth,”
I called, getting out and joining the others. “Mary, you and Laura keep an eye
out for any zombies. There’s some just ahead of us.”

“I’ll
take care of them,” said Marcus. He walked off in that direction.

“Kenneth?
You paying attention? What’s going on?”

The man
was kneeling near a billboard, several yards to one side.

“He saw
the sign and screamed for me to stop,” explained Laura.

“He say
why?”

“Nothing.
He just got out and ran over there.”

“What’s
he looking at?” asked Lizzy.

I
couldn’t tell, not from where I was standing.

“Let’s
find out.” We started forward. “Kenneth, you need to tell us what’s going on.”

“Fuck.”

Lizzy
summed it up nicely.

“Whose
bones are those?” I asked.

The pile
was scattered, as if animals had gotten to them, but they were clearly human.
As before, Kenneth failed to respond to my question. He just knelt there, head
bowed, fingers barely touching the remains of a ribcage.

“Enough!”
Lizzy grabbed his shoulder. “What the fuck is going on!”

His face
slowly swiveled, tears in his eyes. “This was Barbara.”

“Ah… I’m
sorry,” she murmured, releasing him.

“We made
it so far together. Hiding and running and going hungry. So hungry, so very,
very hungry. We stopped to rest, but all I could think about was how hungry I
was. There’d been no food for days, nothing at all.”

He began
to cry.

“How
hungry exactly?” I didn’t like the emphasis he was putting on the word. “Kenneth?”

“I had
to eat something. I had to.” His gaze shifted back to the remains of his
longtime girlfriend, the woman he claimed he loved. “And there was nothing
here, nothing but us.”

Lizzy
drew her pistol.

“I
couldn’t keep… I mean…” His head slumped. “I didn’t want to die. Do you
understand? I didn’t want to die!”

“What
did you do?”

My tone
was harsh, and while I was fairly certain, I still required confirmation.

“I
picked up a rock, and… and…”

“Tell me
what you did to Barbara.”

He began
to retch, spewing forth a watery bile that struck the bones. Kenneth recoiled
in horror.

“I
couldn’t keep it down then either. I bashed her head so I wouldn’t starve, and
I threw it all up anyway!”

His
skull blew apart, brains and blood and gore joining the mess on the ground.

“What
the Hell!” screamed Laura.

I
started walking back. Lizzy delayed only long enough to spit on the corpse.

“Jacob?”

Mary was
troubled, no surprise there. I’d have been worried otherwise. But I focused on
the group as a whole, most of the them newbies who didn’t know me, many of whom
were gripping their own weapons tightly.

“Remember
our rules, the ones with the various punishments like death or flogging?”

There
was a nod from Marcus.

“Let’s
just say that cannibalism has been added to the list.”

“But...”

Lizzy
cut Mary off. “That was what was left of Barbara. His fiancé,” she added, for
the benefit of those who didn’t know his back story. “Kenneth admitted to
killing her months ago so he could fill his belly.”

“He’d
been starving,” said Laura, slowly.

“No
fucking excuse to act like a shambler!” snapped Lizzy, her face going crimson.

“I
didn’t mean that!” she countered, quickly and every bit as angrily. “I’m just
trying to place a reason.”

“Reason
doesn’t matter,” I said. “There have to be minimum standards, lines you don’t
cross. These have to exist or we stop being people.”

Did I
really believe that? What would I have done in his place? Would I have murdered
Briana if I was starving so I might live? No, that was something I would never
do. I loved her with all my heart, and I’d have taken my own arm off so she
could keep going, as disgusting as that sounds. But what about a stranger? How
would I feel then? I pushed the thought away. Barbara was anything but a
stranger to Kenneth, and even if she had been, it would not have mattered.

Interlude – Laura’s Story

Laura is
definitely a woman who has grown, matured, and proven herself through and
through. The changes since I’d last seen her were noticeable and profound. Additionally,
she didn’t want the responsibility any more than I, and while she never
officially held a position of leadership in Anadarko, Laura was clearly someone
to whom others looked for guidance. Following the relocation to Nebraska, she
became the undisputed voice of the Oklahoma survivors.

As to
what happened down in Anadarko prior to our arrival, here’s her story,
abbreviated to cover a smattering of key events. The early days passed with no
significant problems. People trickled in and were quickly accepted, and patrols
were organized to keep the town free of zombies. That was during the day of
course. Being out and about after the sun went down wasn’t exactly the safest
of activities. The dead make no sound, beyond the soft clomp of their
footsteps, and if you can’t see them coming you’re at a serious disadvantage.

The real
difficulties began in October.

“How
many were there today?” asked Edwin.

Roger, a
mute, glanced over at Laura.

“A
hundred and three, first time we broke one hundred,” she replied. “We even went
back and did a second count to be certain.

The old
man grimaced. “It’s been getting worse.”

“That it
is,” she continued, “and I almost got bit this morning when I stepped outside.
That was after I looked out the window too.”

“Didn’t
the spotters see the thing?”

“No, but
I can’t really blame them. The zombie was in the shrubs. Not sure how it got
there, but it was pretty tangled and just around the corner near the front
door. The watches we have can’t even see that side of my house. Bad angle.”

“Maybe
we should assign more people to the job.”

Roger
lifted a hand to get their attention and then shook his head.

“Don’t
think so?”

“I’m
going to agree with him,” said Laura. “Everyone’s exhausted. We can’t have more
people staying up all night, not if we want to get anything done during the
day.”

“It is a
weak point. No one’s been injured, thank God, but there were the two zombies
that tried to get inside Agnes’s house last week. Frightened her and the
grandchildren terribly.”

“That
was bad. So was washing the blood off the pavement so they wouldn’t be looking
at it every time they went in and out.” Laura paused, hesitating.

“What is
it?”

“I
think,” she began slowly, “that we should go back to the wall idea.”

Edwin
let out a sigh. “We’ve been over that before.”

In fact,
the idea had been suggested and discussed numerous times, but it was always
deemed impossible, at least if they wanted to continue living in relative
comfort. Most of the town had been abandoned, with the survivors residing in a
small neighborhood of closely placed, cookie cutter homes, but this still allowed
for significant privacy and ample living space. If they were to construct a
security fence, only a small number of the structures would be within its
perimeter. Crowding would increase.

“I know,
but a bunch of those who used to be against it are starting to come around,
especially after Agnes. Roger heard Tommy and Dolores talking about maybe doing
one the other day.”

“Really?
Now that is interesting.”

The pair
had been very vocal in promoting the patrol system since their home was one of
the outliers and would certainly be abandoned if the project was to proceed.

“I’m
thinking it’s a matter of not wanting to get eaten.” Laura reached for the bowl
of prunes resting on the table. “If you call for a new vote, you’ll get a majority,
probably a good sized one at that.”

“I’ll
bring it up tomorrow when we have our weekly meeting,” replied Edwin, “and
we’ll see what happens. There’s still a great deal of other things that need
doing however. The wells alone are taking longer than they should. I also want
to do another trip to Lawton to try and get more weapons from the army base.”

Roger
slapped a heavily calloused hand against his knee.

“That’s
not going to happen,” confirmed Laura. “Too many on the roads now, way more
than the last time we went there. That was a bad trip too. We barely got out.”
She shifted about uneasily. “I don’t think we can risk it.”

“Well,
we do have plenty of guns on hand,” acknowledged Edwin, “enough for everyone,
but ammunition is starting to run low. Maybe we can try for some of the small
towns, further west perhaps.”

“That
side does tend to be clearer,” she agreed. “You know, the zombies coming in are
probably all from Oklahoma City or maybe Wichita Falls. It’s hard to tell.
Maybe we should look at their driver’s licenses.”

Roger
was staring at her skeptically.

“Those
who have pants. Come on. That’s over half. We might get an idea of patterns. It
could be useful.”

“Feel
free to try. Here, why don’t we just put the bowl in front of you.” Edwin slid
the prunes across the table, eliciting a smile from Laura.

“Sorry.
I don’t mean to be a hog.”

“No
worries my dear. No one else seems to eat them. Take several bags if you want.
We have something like fourteen cases on hand. Pity the truck we found wasn’t carrying
something more appetizing.”

“If you
don’t mind. Since we’re all out of antacid, these are the only thing keeping my
stomach settled.”

Edwin
gave her an understanding nod. “We’re eating too much meat. I know we can’t
feed the cattle through the winter so butchering them makes sense, and no one
wants all that prime beef to go to waste. Even so, our diets are not as healthy
as they could be.”

*
* *

The wall
was begun a few days later, a long fence laid out as a slightly irregular oval,
which would encompass as many structures as possible. As predicted, the
community agreed to the construction with few complaints and no serious
opposition. The only real point of contention was on the route and which homes
would be included and whose would be left outside. Still, that was soon
decided, and the survivors began to gather the lumber and other materials they
would need. Then the swarm hit, changing everything. The casual pace shifted to
frantic, backbreaking labor with every drop of daylight utilized in order to
get it finished as quickly as possible.

Laura,
along with Roger and two others, Lori and Blane, had been on the north side of
town, clearing the streets of any shamblers they came across, when Blane
noticed something in the distance.

“Is that
a truck? Lori, got your binoculars?”

The
sixteen year old, a former cheerleader at the high school, hurried up to him.
“Yeah… It’s a pickup, coming right for us.”

“Huh,”
murmured Laura. “Been a while since we had any visitors, and he’s going pretty
slow, real slow.”

“Front
tire is flat,” said Lori, “and he has a bunch of zombies behind him.”

“How
many?” asked Blane.

“I’m not
sure. He’s kicking up a lot of dust.”

Roger
plucked the binoculars from her small hands.

“Hey!
Rude.”

“What is
it?” asked Laura, watching as his face turned white. “That many?”

“Let me
see,” said Blane, taking his turn.

“Well?”
pressed Laura, irritation coloring her voice.

“This is
not good.” Blane moved to the side, trying to get a better a look. “Okay, Lori
is right about the truck. It’s all messed up, and there’s smoke coming from the
engine. It might not even make it here. Worse…” He swallowed a few times.
“There are several hundred walkers behind it, mostly strung out along the road,
but…”

“Lori,
get your skinny ass back to the others and let them know we’ll probably be
getting hit by a whole bunch all at once. They might just want to hide or
something, let them creep on by. I don’t know.”

The
teenager looked doubtful.

“Get
going. Now!”

She ran
off to inform Edwin of what was coming while Roger moved in the opposite
direction, heading for a small feed store that stood along the road the pickup
was following.

“You’re
not thinking about fighting, are you?” asked Laura. “Please tell me you’re
not.”

He
shrugged.

*
* *

“We
don’t have nearly enough bullets,” remarked Blane.

“I know
this.”

“And
Lori hasn’t come back.”

“Pretty
damn obvious,” snapped Laura.

The
pickup had slowed even further, to only a few miles an hour, and they could
hear the engine struggling as the driver tried to keep going. The man would
have been better off getting out and running, and this is a factual statement.
The zombies were actually catching up, but the fellow just kept pushing down on
the gas pedal, right until the moment when the truck let out a final gasp and
rolled to a stop.

“Should
I yell for him to join us?” asked Blane.

He
started to stand up, but Roger grabbed his arm.

“We
can’t just leave him out there!”

“Not a
him,” said Laura.

“What?”

“That’s
a woman driving. What, can’t you see her curves? I bet those are fake too. Stop
staring at me and take a look. Maybe we should get you some new glasses.”

“My
glasses are fine. You’re just… So it’s a woman. That doesn’t change anything.
We can’t leave her out there.”

Laura
nodded. “She’s already jogging this way. When she gets close we’ll yell for her
to get inside. No reason to show ourselves to the zombies. She can climb up
here on the roof with us, and we’ll be very quiet until they go away.”

“We’re
still too far off for them to see us,” argued Blane. “You know they can’t see
for shit. I could stand and wave so she doesn’t miss us.”

Roger
shook his head.

“He’s
right Blane. Let’s not take the chance. She’s already outdistancing them, and
she’s going to come right past us. There’ll be no problem getting her
attention.”

“Okay. I
suppose that’s…”

Before
either Laura or Roger could react, Blane swung his legs off the side of the
roof and dropped to the ground below. The woman had stumbled. It was only a
little thing, and she was back up and running almost immediately. That hadn’t
stopped Blane, for God knows what reason, from deciding he had to intervene and
rescue her.

“You
idiot!” shouted Laura. “Get back here, both of you! Hey! Both of you, come here!”

The
woman caught sight of Laura and shifted her angle slightly while Blane
continued forward to meet her. Then it was his turn to trip. The middle aged
man caught his toe on something and went sprawling, landing hard on his chest.
The rifle he was carrying flew from his hands, and the chambered round
discharged. The bullet didn’t hit anything or anyone that Laura could see, but
the loud crack caught the attention of the zombies. Those in front had already
been pursuing the woman, but there were more in the distance which seemed to be
following along blindly. That was no longer the case.

“Get
up!”

Blane
tried to do so, but he staggered again and fell, both hands clasped about his
knee. He was shouting something, but Laura couldn’t make it out. The woman
reached him, gave the man a brief glance, and kept on going.

“That
bitch,” seethed Laura. “Blane! You have to get up!”

The
zombies were almost on him, and he drew his pistol. Blane shot the nearest in
the chest, staggering the monster. The second round took it in the head, and it
fell to the ground, lifeless. Others were extending their arms, fingers
clutching at the air, mouths opening and closing. Laura watched in horror as he
placed the barrel of the gun beneath his own chin and pulled the trigger.

“Where’s
the woman!” she demanded.

Roger
pointed. She had gone past the feed store, cutting down a narrow street to
their left.

“That’s
not even the right direction.”

There
was no response from the mute, not that Laura expected anything. Roger was the
least communicative person she knew, his disability notwithstanding.

“Oh…
That’s not going to work.”

From her
vantage, Laura could see the way the road turned, and she had a clear view of
the two zombies shambling in from the other direction. The woman, however, did
not. Before she even thought of warning the stranger, it was too late. Making
the turn, the lady managed to avoid an outright collision, but the way ahead
was blocked. More zombies were filing in behind. She was trapped.

Laura
didn’t know what happened next, being forced to shift her attention to the
hundreds gathering around the feed store, pounding on the doors and windows,
trying to reach her and Roger on the roof. They’d revealed their own position
and foolishly stayed where they were while trying to see what was going on.
They should have fled the moment Blane died.