Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation (23 page)

“Do it,”
she snarled, “and I’ll cut your balls off.”

I leaned
in to kiss her on the cheek. “No, you won’t, but we can save it for later.”

*
* *

We
attacked the prophet’s camp in the wee morning hours on the fourth of June and arrived
back in the Black Hills late in the afternoon on the seventh. Waiting for us
was a massive celebration put together by Steph, with Renee contributing to
ensure the kinks that occurred during the prior party were not repeated. I’m
not really sure what those were. Anyway, there was roasted pig, barbecue,
steaks and burgers, strips of venison, and a wide variety of produce to balance
it out. We even had some honey for the fresh baked bread, beekeeping being a
new thing we were trying.

Renee had
rearranged the outer watches and patrols so everyone could be there at least
part of the time. Those who didn’t drink were given the later shifts. It would
never do to have someone pass out when he or she was supposed to be watching
for zombies. Renee had planned on taking a shift herself, but her own people
vetoed that notion. For one, they thought the woman deserved the break. Second,
they knew I was going to be asking her all sorts of work related questions,
even if there was an assembly of the leadership the following day. Renee would
need the extra time if there was to be any chance of her relaxing.

“We’ve
turned a corner,” I announced.

There
were plenty of cheers. Granted, the mood was so positive that nearly anything I
said would have generated the same result.

“However,
I have realized that there is a dire problem which we have thus far failed to
address.”

I tried
to look stern and worried, and the people quickly quieted down. To my side,
Briana appeared alarmed. I had not discussed this with her, and she had no
inkling what I was referring to.

“Our
town…” I pointed at the rows of cabins and the network of stone and gravel
roads before me. “…does not have a name. Think about that for a moment. We have
no name. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. We can’t keep calling it the valley, and what
will we do when postal service resumes. You know there will come the day when
that happens. Without a name, there can be no mail deliveries. Action must be
taken.”

Briana
somehow refrained from rolling her eyes.

“Anyone
who wants to can propose a name. We are going to take the best of these, and on
the Fourth of July there will be a vote. Our beautiful settlement will have its
new name, and we are going to have a double celebration, for both the Fourth of
July and for Naming Day.”

You can
never have too many celebrations.

The
happy faces reappeared, along with more than a few frowns. Some people have no
sense of humor.

*
* *

“What is
going on!” I’d pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt before stumbling out of
the bedroom. I was still barefoot. “Explanations, now.”

One of
the sentries in the citadel had come into the house calling for Briana and I to
get up, that there was a problem we needed to deal with. I’d only just fallen
asleep. After leaving the party early, in order to spend some quality time with
my wife and son, I played with Asher until he collapsed from exhaustion. Then
there were more conversations with Briana, coupled with promises that I would
do whatever I could to not go running off yet again, before we finally went to
bed.

“No
shouting,” she ordered, trailing after me. “Asher is sleeping, and he better
not be woken up.”

Like me,
Briana had pulled on whatever was handy, in this case a pair of jogging pants
and a sweatshirt.

“And if
this isn’t an attack, I might just kill someone,” she concluded.

The
woman who’d destroyed any chance of a good night’s rest shook her head. There is
always a militia member on duty nearby who can enter the house if we have to be
alerted to a crisis. As it turned out, all are women. This was Briana’s
decision, based on her being more comfortable with the arrangement and
justified by freeing up men for duties that require greater physical exertion,
or so she claims. Renee, Steph, Lizzy, and the twins can come and go as they
please as well.

The
front door opened, and the sentry beckoned the others inside. Dale came first,
dragging Tim Myers by the arm. His nose was smashed, and the teenager was
holding a bloody handkerchief to his face. Tara followed close behind, one hand
lightly resting on the pistol at her waist.

“What
happened?” I asked.

Alan and
Lucy Myers were the last to enter. Tim’s mother looked particularly distraught,
but the woman was easily startled and prone to full blown panic attacks. With a
personality like that, it was amazing she continued to function, given the
entire apocalypse thing.

“There
seems to have been a misunderstanding,” began Alan.

I
respected this man. He was clever, hardworking, dedicated to our cause. He was
also a father, with his son standing before him. That could not be discounted
or overlooked. His viewpoint would be colored.

“Tara,
Dale?” Briana took a seat. I remained standing. “Go ahead and tell us why you
brought Tim here.”

The
siblings looked at each other briefly before Tara began. “Mary and Michael went
dancing.”

“Then
they went for a walk,” said Dale.

“Tim was
following them, hiding,” she finished.

“Tim,” I
asked, “were you following my daughter and Michael?”

Saying
‘my daughter’ might help remind Alan that his child wasn’t the only one
involved in whatever had just occurred. That was a conscious action on my part.
I’d been getting better at the psychology aspects of the job.

“No!”
The word came out muffled. His nose must have really been broken good.

“Dale?”
prompted Briana.

“We
stopped him by the dairy stable, the one painted blue.”

That was
past the cabins at the edge of the town proper. Beyond it was nothing but our
farms, some open areas, and the ridges that formed the boundary of the valley.
Even if Tim had been going the same direction while still in town, an unlikely
coincidence, there could be no reason to trail Mary that far.

“Where’s
Mary now?” continued Briana.

“Visiting
Lizzy,” said Tara.

Dale
nodded. “We told her to go back to the citadel.”

Mary had
likely not appreciated them ordering her around, but as rarely as the twins
told others what to do, she would not have argued the point. Going to visit
Lizzy instead of coming straight home would be her rebelling. It was so minor that
I didn’t blink an eye. Kids could do much worse.

“They
beat up our son!” declared Lucy Myers, loudly.

“No
screaming,” reiterated Briana, firmly. “You wake up Asher, and I’ll have them
toss you out that door headfirst.”

It was
unusual for my sweetie to be less diplomatic than me. It could be the hormones,
or maybe she was just cranky.

“Dale,
tell me the rest that happened,” I said.

“We
stopped him.”

“He got
mad,” added Tara. “We told him to go away.”

“Tim
tried to punch me,” said Dale. “He missed.”

“Dale
did not miss,” concluded his sister.

I hate
it when they finish each others’ sentences. It happens quite frequently but
wasn’t really noticeable unless they had a lot to say, like now.

“Tim, do
I need to have someone collect Mary and Michael to get their version of
events?” I stared at him intently. “Or would you prefer to elaborate?”

“I might
have taken a swing,” he admitted, shifting his feet uncomfortably.

“Tim!”

His
mother was not pleased. Judging from his expression, his father less so.

“I
wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was just outside, and Mary shouldn’t have been
out with him.”

“Who my
daughter associates with is not a matter for you to be concerned about,” I
remarked, harshly and with no attempt to hide my growing anger. “Your behavior
has been annoying up to now, but going from not getting the hint that she will
never, ever go out with you, that there is no chance you will ever have a
relationship with Mary…” He grew pale and began to shake. “…to stalking my
sixteen year old daughter is completely unacceptable. And don’t you dare say
that her feelings were not made perfectly clear. You know where Mary stands.”

“This
will not happen a second time,” said Alan. “Isn’t that right, Tim?”

The boy
looked at his father, then to his mother, and finally at the floor. “It won’t.”

“Take
him over to the hospital and get his nose straightened out,” I said.

“If
Mary’s still there, have her come home,” added Briana.

I nodded
my assent. There’d have to be a conversation with her as well. She hadn’t done
anything wrong, but this matter wasn’t going to be swept under the rug, not
within our family at least.

The
Myers household filed out the door, and I motioned for the sentry to leave as
well. Rumors of what happened would be swirling about by morning. Fortunately,
fights and arguments relating to romantic issues were common enough that it
wouldn’t stand out too badly. More fortunately, we had almost no instances of
rape, attempted rape, or any other version of sexual assault. The fact you
would be tied to a tree and left for the zombies helped with that. Everyone
having and usually carrying a gun contributed, especially when one remembered
that we have no effective limits on a person’s right to self-defense.

“Tara,
Dale, I don’t think there will be any more problems, but can you keep an eye on
Mary and Michael, Tim too? Nothing big, so don’t be following them around
everywhere, but if you notice anything funny let me know.”

“Tim’s
leaving the valley,” said Briana. “I’m having Lizzy and Renee move him out to
the edges somewhere. Maybe a few months away will help.”

“Won’t
hurt,” I agreed.

Getting
watch duty or cutting firewood outside the Black Hills was a common punishment
for those who misbehave. Tim being in the militia meant he was held to a higher
standard of conduct. According to our rules, I could be really cruel and force
him to do something super unpleasant like scrubbing out the septic tanks, but I
wasn’t ready to go quite that far.

*
* *

“Always
something,” yawned Briana. After checking to ensure Asher was still asleep,
she’d curled up beside me. “And on the day you come back even.”

“Murphy’s
law.”

“You
should track him down and kill the bastard.”

“I would
like nothing more,” I assured her, rubbing her lower back, “but he’s very good
at hiding.”

“Think
we should do anything more about this? And move more to the left.”

“Mary’s
been told to keep an eye out. She’ll tell Michael the same tomorrow.”

“Mary
was not happy when you said that she cannot antagonize Tim.”

I
stopped the massage and fell back into the sheets. “As pissed as she was over
the whole thing, I couldn’t trust her to not tease him, make comments, or do
something else that would make it worse.”

“Mary’s
a good girl,” argued Briana.

“And how
would you have reacted back when you were her age? Well, wife of mine, answer
me that.”

She
slapped me lightly on the top of the head and turned off the lamp. “I’ll tell
her to not be mean too, so we know she’s gotten the message, but that’ll have
to wait until morning.”

*
* *

Marcus
was back, having been found by one of our patrols. The story he told was
dreadful. This news immediately overwhelmed the drama that was Mary Thornton
and Tim Myers and set off a short lived panic as people began to compare this
brotherhood thing to the raiders. The fact they were insane religious zealots far
away as opposed to psychotic mass murderers trying to get us was brought to the
forefront, and that soon died down.

Lizzy
was to be released from the hospital, but she decided to stay and share a room
with Marcus so she could keep an eye on him. It would also help determine
exactly what had happened. We knew the basics, but he was in terrible shape,
suffering from malnutrition and stomach cramps due to eating nothing but meat
he shot or caught in snares, as often as not improperly or under cooked .
Marcus also had a long gash on one thigh that he got climbing over a barb wire
fence. It was infected, despite his efforts to wash and clean the wound. To top
it all off, he had never been one to go hiking, and the long, roundabout route
he was forced to take to avoid the shambling dead had left him physically
drained and barely capable of walking. His recovery would be a long one.

“Those
fucking miserable bastard fucks!” screamed Lizzy.