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Authors: Joshua Jared Scott

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BOOK: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation
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“What
are you going to do to them?” he asked. “Or is there more to ask?”

“We’re
just about done, I think, and I’ll be forcing them to dig their own graves
before they’re shot.”

Rudy
frowned. “We were going to burn the others and scatter the bones. Why bury
these.”

“Oh, I’m
not actually planning on burying them,” she said, eyes glinting in the fading
twilight. “I just want them to suffer a bit more before I do shoot the lot.
I’ve also told them that their families were dead, after I got what I wanted.
Two of them had kids in that cave. They were crying, just like all the people
they raped and tortured and murdered over the past few years did.” She spat on
the ground. “Maybe I should just toss them on the fire instead, let them burn
alive.”

 

*
* *

 

“I’m
pretty certain there are no raiders anywhere near us. Whatever’s left is in
that group Jacob and Lizzy went after, or off scouting somewhere. I don’t know
how many were doing that, but it isn’t many. Can’t be more than a handful or
two.”

“Perfect,”
said Briana. “Put that back.”

Asher
looked up, frowned, and returned to his mother’s bedroom, the makeup case
gripped in his tiny hands.

“I can’t
take my eyes off him for an instant,” she complained. “Lately he’s been
treating eye liner like crayons.”

“He’s a
good kid,” remarked Renee, “even if he did pour a bottle of ink on my boot that
one time.”

“That
was not intentional. He was trying to open it – another reason I have to watch
him all the time – and when it spilled you just happened to be in the way.”

Renee
smiled. “It was pretty funny, after the fact. How is the childcare thing going?
You ever decide on getting a permanent babysitter?”

“No,
I’ve decided to stick with the system of having some of the older women offer
daycare and help out when they’re free. Jacob and Mary are going to be back
soon anyway, and Steph’s always ready to take him for a little while if there’s
no one else around.”

“So many
babies. I might have to have one myself soon, before I’m feeling completely
left out.”

Briana
snorted. “It’s not like everyone is pregnant or with kids.”

“Seems
that way sometimes. We are growing. Give it thirty years, and this place will
be booming.”

“Thirty
years.” She rose and picked up Asher who’d come back into the room, walked past
all his toys that were sitting on the rug, and gone straight for the cabinet
where the dishes were kept. “No, you don’t. Go play with bunny or the matchbox
cars.”

Letting
out a dramatic sigh, as only a three year old can manage, the boy grabbed the
stuffed rabbit and began to feed it little metal cars. Imagination is a
wonderful thing.

“We
should do a celebration,” said Renee. “It’s been forever since we had one.”

“Shouldn’t
we wait for my husband to come back? Jacob should have, hopefully, the prophet
and the last of them dead soon. Captain Briggs said he thought it was a done
deal.”

“Not a
chance. We do one now for all we accomplished. Then we do another when he gets
back. After all, Briana, why have one party when we can have two? I’ll tell the
brewery to get to work. There’ll be a lot of beer that’s going to need
replacing.”

“Fine,”
she laughed, waving Renee off. “Go get Steph and whoever else you need. Party
with my blessings. I can’t drink, and the way my stomach’s going I probably
shouldn’t be walking around staying up all night either. I had Asher puking
after he saw me go through a bout of morning sickness.”

“Yuck.
I’ll be sure to bring you some cake.”

“You can
give that to the little one. I’m putting on way too much weight as it is.”

“Briana,
you aren’t at all fat.”

“Yeah,
and it’s going to stay that way too.”

 

*
* *

 

“Oh…”

Renee’s
head was throbbing, deep seated aches that came one after another. Worse, she
realized with a fright, her shirt was not where she’d left it, namely on her
well-toned frame. What had happened, and why was Rudy lying next to her? Rudy!
She leapt to her feet. Rather, she attempted to get up but only succeeded in
falling over. This was followed by wrenching twist in her gut. Renee managed to
scoot a few feet to the side so she could vomit in a trashcan.

“Too
much of a good thing,” she moaned, thoughts briefly shifting to what poor
Briana went through every day with her pregnancy.

Okay,
her pants were still on. Thank goodness for that. Rudy’s were as well. Better
still. Now, she needed to concentrate. Renee vaguely recalled speaking to one
of the interrogators over a glass of ale. He’d been feeling conflicted about
what they did. But, these were raiders they were talking about. The monsters
deserved what they got and more. Unable to relate, Renee suggested he talk to
one of their counselors.

That
unpleasantness taken care of, she danced with somebody – Renee couldn’t
remember who – and had a few more drinks. Rudy had appeared, flirting with
everybody sporting a pair of breasts. She caught his attention, and… What? A
drinking contest. That was it. They matched shots. Oh, what a stupid, stupid
thing to do, and she’d already been close to falling over when they got
started.

Renee
looked about more carefully. She was in the back room of the tavern. One of her
friends ran it, and she’d helped move casks and plastic containers often
enough. They had probably caused too much of an uproar and were hustled back
here to sober up. Or maybe they stumbled into the room for some hanky panky. No
way that was the case. Renee wouldn’t stoop so low as to sleep with Rudy, no
matter how plastered she was.

There
was her shirt, and it was covered in vomit. That would explain why she wasn’t
wearing it. Renee felt much better thinking she threw up on herself, or that
someone else threw up on her. Both were preferable to giving Rudy a free look.
Disgusting as it was, she pulled it on before giving the snoring man a good
kick.

“Wake
up.”

Rudy
didn’t budge. He didn’t respond at all.

“Wake up.
Hey, shithead.”

Nothing.

“Stay
here then.”

Renee
collected her things and slipped outside. It was late, and the common room was
dark. There were others passed out though, something that cheered her
immensely. She carefully made her way around the bodies and stepped into the
crisp pre-dawn air.

 

Chapter VII

 

 

“It’s
good to have you back,” said Captain Briggs, “and I’m sorry for your losses.”

The
casualties from that final battle had been light, something for which I am
quite grateful, and the wounded would all recover, including Lizzy who was
anything but happy concerning her personal situation. Then again, she was stuck
in the hospital, so I didn’t have to listen to her complain. Her being more pissed
off than usual really wasn’t much of an issue.

“How are
your efforts going?” I asked.

“Good so
far. We have barricaded all the roads into Yellowstone, and by Yellowstone I
mean the forested areas. The plains in the north up around Montana are too
open. Zombies are out in the dirt as often as not. Because of size, and the
need to allow wildlife to migrate, we aren’t trying to fully wall ourselves in
like you have over in the Black Hills. It should be more than sufficient
however.”

“And no
trouble from that big group? Any come back?”

Our
innovation had been copied with a Yellowstone pilot flying over the shambling
horde that had been approaching. They were not following any raiders and soon
turned in a vain effort to catch the helicopter. At last report, they were
filtering through Jackson.

“A few
stragglers reached us and were put down, but that’s about it.”

“What
about the islands? Any news from them?”

The
captain settled back in his chair. We were in Yellowstone proper, sitting on
the porch of an old ranger station overlooking some small geysers and bubbling
pools. It was quite pleasant outside, and we were enjoying the weather and
scenery while we could. Opportunities to do so were few and far between.

“They
still want to use Yellowstone and the Black Hills as a starting point to clear
the center of the country, although no actions are anticipated until early next
spring. They have asked that we secure the area as best we can in the meantime
and keep as many airstrips open and in good repair as possible, particularly
those with long runways.”

I
snorted. Oh, God! I was copying Briana’s bad habits. This was not going to
happen a second time. At least Briggs didn’t know her well enough to catch on.

“Keeping
open the small airstrips we already use in South Dakota, Montana, and around
here is easy. They’re isolated, hard to get to, and rarely end up infested. The
only major airport with super long runways that we can really support is
Ellsworth Air Force Base. It’s mostly clear at present, but I can’t guarantee
that won’t change. We don’t have the people to occupy it permanently, not even
if we totally linked up. I’ll keep an eye on the place, and clearing it right
before it’s put to use shouldn’t be too hard. But, there is a big difference
between going in with a hundred guns and spending a day shooting and having
squads patrolling it 24/7.”

“I
concur. We will know in advance before they move, so there should be ample time
to prepare when that date rolls around.”

It
appeared Captain Briggs understood my concerns, which was to be expected. The
man was military and had a good grip on logistics and all the zillions of
problems we faced. I wonder how long it’ll be before he’s promoted.

“I’m
cutting back on our overhead flights too,” he continued. “We’ve burned through
most of our fuel reserves.”

“It is
getter harder to replenish them,” I agreed.

There
was still plenty at Ellsworth, and Briana had sent some teams to the more
distant municipal and private airports to take whatever they had. This was then
transported to the airstrips we used regularly and pumped into their tanks, or
otherwise stored within the Black Hills so we could refuel the choppers based
there. It was a slow, tedious process, made worse by the fact that Marcus, who
normally handles such matters, was still absent. We were just about at the
point of sending someone to check on him, might have already if experience hadn’t
shown that first contacts often take an exceedingly long time.

“They
are ramping up production at the refineries in Hawaii. I should say the
refinery. There are two in Oahu, but only one is currently running. The other
may go online in the future, depending on their needs. It’s being maintained in
the meantime.”

“At
least they don’t have to scrounge for gasoline,” I commented, “and since you
can’t really fly that in to us, our ground transportation is going to keep
getting more and more complicated.” An idea popped into my head. “Why don’t we
swap some horses, get the breeding population a bit more diversified? Get the
numbers up too.”

“I have
no problems, although I don’t know enough about horses to really say what we
should or should not do. Plenty of people here I can delegate to.”

“I do
love delegation. I delegate most of my shooting to the twins.”

Tara and
Dale were sitting on the porch steps playing Yahtzee. With the fighting
essentially concluded and us being back in what passed for civilization, they
had relaxed somewhat. I still couldn’t go anywhere without them following,
which was annoying, but that would change once we were back in the Black Hills.
Briana would undoubtedly, hopefully, have the pair doing something other than
watching me.

“They
are fine shots,” agreed Briggs, “and consider that a good thing since most of
your military personnel are getting recalled.”

I
straightened. “What do you mean they’re getting recalled?” This was not good.
“What about you and the ones here?”

“I’m
staying as head of the Yellowstone militia. I’ll have two others remaining with
me. That will be Sergeant Brown and one other who has yet to be determined. You
are going to lose all of your trainers. They aren’t needed any longer, and the
islands require soldiers for what they are doing. And, before you ask, I don’t
know what that entails.”

“Some
are married now, a few have babies on the way.”

He
nodded. “Their families go with them, of course. A plane will arrive in a few
weeks to relocate everyone to Hawaii.”

“Damn
politicians are always messing up my life.” I added a few derogatory adjectives
under my breath. I hated politicians, hated bureaucrats even more. It didn’t
help that I was one myself. “Probably won’t be too much griping about leaving,
I hope.”

“It’s
part of being in the Army, or any branch of service.”

“Yeah,
some things never change, even after six billion and more end up dead.”

There
wasn’t much to say to that, so we dropped the pointless editorials and began to
discuss the best way to get things done.

 

*
* *

 

“Dad!”
Mary came bounding across the grass, veering around a fresh mound of bison
poop. “Michael’s moving to the Black Hills with us.”

Oh, joy.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against the kid, and he’ll make a fine
addition to our own militia, assuming he goes that route. Even if he didn’t,
I’m sure he would contribute in some other manner. No, the problem is that Mary
would almost certainly start dating the boy, but it was bound to happen at some
point.

“His
Uncle Carter is coming too.”

I hadn’t
spoken much with the man, but Mary said he was pretty cool with lots of neat
war stories. Our demolition expert, Carlson, had served in Vietnam at the same
time as Carter. They’d never run into each other over there, but they’d grown
close over the past couple of weeks. The two were always off drinking together,
making passes at women, talking about the best ways to blow things up. Carlson said
he was good guy.

“We’re
leaving tomorrow morning, so get them packed.”

She was
beaming. “Sure thing. I’ll even help. I’m great at telling people where to put
their stuff.”

“You go
do that, pipsqueak.”

“Hey! I
am not a pipsqueak.”

I
ruffled her blonde hair. “You’ll always be my pipsqueak. I’ll be with Lizzy in
case you need anything. She’s coming back with us, unless the doctors say
otherwise.”

“Oh,
she’ll be coming back,” confirmed Mary. “Lizzy is not at all happy in the
hospital. She’s already threatened to kill one of the nurses.”

“You
took away her gun, right?”

My
daughter smirked. “I even took away her fork and spoon. She was really mad when
she found out there was no way to eat her Jell-O.”

Was
there any truth to that statement? No clue, although I wouldn’t put it past
Mary.

 

*
* *

 

“How are
you doing?”

Lizzy
glared and pulled her T-shirt high enough for me to see the bandage.

“Looks
white and gauzy.”

The
dirty look deepened.

“Twenty
three stitches,” she declared.

“Sounds
like a lot for a single bullet.”

“Most
are where it went out. Just hit skin and fat, no bones or important things.”

I
wisely, I’m sure, refrained from making any jokes or comments about her size.

“Hurt a
whole fucking lot. They said I’m going to have a scar too, like that isn’t
obvious. Fucking raiders.”

“I’m
sure it did. My shoulder was killing me for weeks after I was shot. Any
infections or complications to worry about?”

“Nah,
I’m good to go back with you.”

Excellent.
I definitely wanted Lizzy back at the citadel. We had lots of planning to do.
The raider issue was finally resolved, and we could now shift to all the other
matters we’d been neglecting. There was no shortage of those.

“Do you
think I have a control problem?”

I looked
at her skeptically, a bit surprised at the question. “You need to ask?”

Lizzy
blushed. “Not me swearing and screaming – I always did that – but real
self-control.”

“What’s
bringing this up?”

“I met a
gal.”

That
explained a great deal about why Lizzy was so out of sorts lately.

“Let me
guess,” I began. “She said that she liked you, blah, blah, blah, but wasn’t
comfortable with the way you act. If you somehow changed, blah, blah, blah,
then the two of you could really get together.”

“Do you
have to make it sound so… so…” She was at a loss for words.

“Trite,
obnoxious, insulting?” I offered.

“Fucking
yes!”

I
sighed. “Lizzy, I love you. You know this. You are one of my best friends.
Sweetheart, no one can change another person, ever. Deep seated fundamental
changes have to come from inside.”

“She
didn’t try to change me. She told me to change myself.”

“Same
thing. She just took the easy, lazy route by putting it all on you.” I paused.
“Who are we talking about anyway?”

“I don’t
want to say.”

“Fair
enough.” It didn’t really matter. “So, is this really about control or is it about
bad habits, like every other word you uttering being something obscene?”

“My
language is not fucking…” She trailed off.

“Exactly.
We could all tell you were trying to keep it under wraps, which is nice since
you’ve steadily grown worse the past few years, especially after the war with
the raiders began in Wyoming.”

“It was
after Lois died,” corrected Lizzy. “You didn’t notice that winter in the castle
because it was just us and we were stuck there without anything to set me off,
but that was when I went downhill.”

I missed
Lois. She had been a fine lady.

“Lizzy,
the language doesn’t bother any of us, except when you are around the
children.”

“I’ve
been good with them,” she protested.

“You
have, mostly, but you are also combative, always ready to say exactly what you
think, always more than ready to point out the stupidity of others. Still, it’s
no biggie. You scream and throw temper tantrums over nothing…” The glare
returned. “…but you don’t hurt people. You really are mostly non-violent, where
it counts. I don’t see your behavior as a problem, nor do I think you have to
change.”

Her
shoulders slumped. “I’m not even sure if she meant language or temper or
whatever. Mostly I’ve been worried about how Mary might react.”

“Mary is
fine, and she won’t care if you start seeing someone. Her sister died a long
time ago, and you’ve been faithful to her memory every day since. It would be
okay with her if you finally moved on.”

Lizzy
had known Mary longer than I, but I was far closer to the teenager. Also, my
adopted daughter had asked me repeatedly if I couldn’t get Lizzy to at least
speak with other women – there were several confirmed lesbians in the
settlement – to which I always said no, that I wasn’t getting involved in
anyone’s personal affairs. That led to trouble and grief which I’d rather avoid.

“You
think so?”

“I do, and
before I stick your ass in a wheelchair and roll you out the door, let me bring
up a few more personal traits you might not be aware of.”

BOOK: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation
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