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Authors: Joshua Jared Scott

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BOOK: Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation
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“I am
not going to calm down,” protested the man. The other representative from
Yellowstone gave a nod as well. “I want to know if this piece of shit is going
to be punished or if he gets to walk away cause he’s a damn senator.”

“Mons
crossed the line when he got physical,” said Lawson. “I’m requesting
impeachment hearings immediately.” He looked at one of the security officers.
“Get him to the hospital and once he’s thinking straight arrest him. I’m not
sure what the penalty is off the top of my head, but it’s somewhere around a
year in prison.”

“A
year?” inquired Martin and Briana, almost simultaneously.

“You are
going to waste a year’s worth of food and all the work those watching him could
otherwise do by keeping him in jail that long?” she added. “Martin’s right.
Just tie him to a pole and give him a good sixty or seventy lashes. It gets the
point across far better.”

“We do
not engage in torture here,” said some woman.

“It’s
not torture, and you being such cowards when it comes to dealing with crime is
why you have so much more than us.” Briana was on a roll. “I’ve seen your
records. It is way safer where we live, zombies and crazies notwithstanding,
than it is here in paradise. Jacob, we are going.”

I
followed my wife out the door. Mary paused briefly to kick Senator Mons in the
side of the head. That was sure to help. He was groaning though, so at least I
knew she hadn’t killed him.

 

*
* *

 

“The
good news is that there are going to be no charges against any of you,” said
Major Briggs.

“Why
would there be?” asked Mary.

We were
in the hotel suite packing the last of our belongings. Asher was playing on the
floor while the twins were cleaning their weapons.

“Jacob,
or possibly you, gave him a concussion. And you, Mary, gave him second degree
burns.”

“He
deserved it,” she stated, resolutely.

“Alfred
Mons did at that,” confirmed the major. “He used his family connections and the
many cargo ships they control to get elected in the first place. He used his
position to bully and abuse anyone who got in his way. He is also very
unpopular and had no chance of staying in office past this term. Additionally,
Mons has been accused of being too forceful with women, especially young ones.
No accusations of rape, but there are reports of groping and flashing, among
other things.”

“And he
ended up a senator?” inquired Briana.

“He will
be thrown out in the next couple of weeks,” continued Briggs. “With more women
and girls coming forward to talk about how he treated them over the past few
years, that’s all but guaranteed. I don’t think the court will give him any
jail time though. You’re leaving, so you won’t be here to testify against him,
and…” He paused. “…he may not recover.”

“How
badly is this going to affect us diplomatically?” I asked. The man’s well being
meant nothing to me.

“That’s
less certain,” confessed the major. “There is already a debate going about the
differences between the people here and those who are still living under the
threat of the zombies, as well as that of groups like the raiders and The
Brotherhood. People are cutting you a lot of slack because, as the reporters
have been saying all last night and most of this morning, you are living day to
day trying to stay alive and to keep your families free from harm. What Hawaii
might consider an excessive response or vigilante justice is what you are
forced by circumstances to do.”

Hawaii
has a single functioning television station that broadcasts round the clock.
Most of the shows are old reruns, but they do have a morning and evening news
show. Additionally, their reporters – there were only two of them – sometimes
broke in at other times to give alerts. The same applied for the lone radio
station.

“That’s
stretching things,” said Briana.

“Helps
us out,” I countered. “Are they looking for excuses to let us off the hook?”

“In
short, yes. Like I said, Alfred Mons is widely despised, and with so many
speaking out against him, his supporters are fleeing. Even his family is
keeping quiet. Don’t think they aren’t standing with him however. You have an
enemy for life with that clan.”

More
enemies. Hurray for me.

“It will
die down, but this is not going to be forgotten. You can expect a place in the
history books.”

“Jacob
will be in the history books no matter what,” said Briana. “He founded and runs
one of the only two big settlements still in existence on the mainland.”

“We set
it up and run it together,” I corrected.

She
snorted. “You set it up. I just do the hard work that keeps it functioning.”

“I also
mentioned that Mons started a diplomatic crisis by grabbing the underage
daughter of a visiting dignitary. The Black Hills is an autonomous body. That
is also all over the news.”

I
smiled. The major was quite good at political maneuvering.

“Martin
dropped his threats of independence,” he added. “You may not realize it, but
you have a tremendous degree of power. Without Yellowstone and the Black Hills,
it is likely that there would be no attempt to reclaim the mainland. The people
here and on the other islands do not want to return to their old homes. When
there are surveys and polls, it is something along the lines of ninety percent
refusing to move to the continental United States, even if it is cleared of the
dead. They don’t consider it safe.”

“There
aren’t enough people that they would have to either,” mused Briana. “Not like
they need us to grow food to feed them all.”

“Good
point,” I agreed. “Okay, we dodged what might have been a nasty bullet. We go
home, and we stay quiet. No more diplomatic trips. We can go ahead and say
formally that the vastly different living conditions and dangers have resulted
in contrary cultures. While Hawaii is focused on rebuilding, we are concerned
with staying alive. Not completely true, I know, but it protects us and sets up
the understanding that we will react harshly to any perceived threats against
our families.”

“I’ll
speak with Senator Fletchle prior to leaving. He will be elated to have
something this juicy to spin. It’s the sort of thing he lives for.”

“Can he
do it the right way?” asked Briana. “He didn’t seem super sophisticated.”

“Well
enough to suit our needs,” replied Major Briggs. “The military is siding with
you, unofficially since it would be inappropriate to issue statements, but the
rank and file have no love for Mons. They do, however, respect those willing to
defend their own. You need to remember that unlike on the mainland, the current
government always had a large group of soldiers on hand, and it was these men
and women who primarily cleared the zombies. Those in uniform consider you a
close cousin, far closer than the typical civilian in Hawaii. I’ll direct
Fletchle toward a few officers who will help him out.”

“I don’t
like games like this.” Briana pulled on her hair for a moment, then twisted it
into a braid which she draped over one shoulder. “Can’t hurt. I think Christine
Lawson was a little upset when I said to just kill the man instead of beating
him up.”

“Swift
justice, especially in a time of great stress, is easier to explain away than
you might think,” explained Briggs.

“She has
a daughter of her own,’ I commented. “The woman will get over it, or not.”

 

Interlude – Renee’s Story

 

 

“What
are you thinking for tonight?” asked Rudy. “Roast venison?”

“I’m
leaning toward quail, but I’ll wait and see if they have anything else,
something new.”

“When
did they get quail? There wasn’t any yesterday.”

Renee
shot him a smile. “One of the hunters brought back quite a few this morning and
traded them to Diane in exchange for a small cask of ale. I was over at the
time, and she said they’d be cooked up for dinner, first come, first serve.”

Diana is
the proprietor of one of the numerous taverns in Baltis. Many of these
establishments brew their own beer and serve light meals, but their true
popularity is as a place to relax and unwind. The majority of the settlement’s
residents continue to eat in the large dining halls run by Steph, with a few
preferring to cook for themselves in their cabins. Beer and liquor, which was
once strictly regulated and all but outlawed, is everywhere nowadays, and there
is a large communal brewery which produces a seemingly endless flow. This
particular ale, however, contains a very low alcohol content. It’s primary
purpose is to provide a drink safe to consume. Lacking large scale water
purification, this remains a constant concern.

“I need
to become friends with more hunters,” he commented. “They always have the best
stuff.”

“Rudy,
you need more friends, period.”

“Plenty
of lovely ladies find me quite charming.”

Renee
laughed. “Cute, maybe, but not charming. You’re never charming. You can be nice
at times, but even that’s pushing it.”

“Want to
go climbing tomorrow?” he asked, deftly moving the topic to something other
than his less than stellar reputation.

“Maybe.
I have to do some patrols in the early morning, but that shouldn’t take too
long.”

The
radio at her waist crackled. “Renee, you around?”

She
unclipped it and hit the transmit button. “What is it, Lizzy?”

“Got
news of people over in Rapid City. Can you check it out? I would go, but I have
to deal with two kids who decided that wild mushrooms are not only safe to eat
but are also hallucinogenic, regardless of the type.” She sounded irate,
disgusted, and tired. “Got both of them in the hospital, puking up blood.”

“Will
they be okay?” asked Renee, alarmed.

“Docs
say they should recover. That’s not stopping a pair of mothers from crying and
freaking out. I had to have them taken out of the room. Shame neither has a
father anymore. I’d personally hand the guys a belt so they could beat some
sense into the brats.” Lizzy growled something unintelligible. “The moms might
be up to it, in a few days. Damn, I wish Briana was back already. I hate this
conflict management shit.”

“Don’t
worry. I’ll head right over.”

“Ronnie
got the details from Xavier – he did the over flight in a Cessna – and Ronnie’s
waiting over by the landing pad. Grab whoever is around and take them with you,
just in case.”

Lizzy
signed off, and Renee turned toward Rudy.

“I get
it,” he remarked. “We can have a meal sometime later. Go see if there are any
survivors needing rescuing. Do try to be safe if it’s The Brotherhood or
raiders.” Rudy ran a finger down her cheek. “Wouldn’t want a face as lovely as
yours not coming back, would we now?”

 

*
* *

 

Taking
one of the Pave Hawks, due to its firepower and ability to seat a large number
of people, Renee and four others flew toward the town, coming in from the
north. It was on the outskirts of Rapid City, well above I-90, where Xavier had
spotted a suspicious truck. He was certain it hadn’t been there before. More
telling was the fact a dog had been sitting in the bed. From his altitude it
was difficult to say, but the animal had the look of a pet. With fuel running
low, he couldn’t come around for a second pass, so he radioed in the
information.

“Keep an
eye out,” cautioned Renee.

Ronnie quickly
spotted the vehicle Xavier had described. The dog was no longer present, but
the pickup did appear functional. With most cars slowly rusting away and
sitting on flat tires, this really wasn’t that difficult an observation.
Something was up, so he dropped Renee and her small squad in the middle of the
street before lifting high into the air and heading south. There was no way to
prevent any nearby zombies from seeing or hearing him. As such, it was best to
not be hovering directly over his friends.

The
militia members quickly spread out and scanned the area. One shambler exited an
alley and was expeditiously dropped with two shots to the forehead. That was a
drawback to the silenced .22 caliber pistols. The rounds didn’t do nearly the
damage of their larger cousins and often missed whatever portion of the brain
needed to be destroyed in order to kill a zombie for good. On the other hand,
several militia members were engaged in a running competition to see who could
use the fewest rounds for every one hundred put down. The things people do for
entertainment.

“Movement
up ahead,” announced Jimmy, “the green house. I saw someone inside the window,
left of the door.”

That was
the structure closest to the pickup.

“All
right, folks,” called Renee, loudly, “we are here to help, so send someone
outside to talk.”

Nothing
happened.

“For
Christ’s sake,” she snapped. “It’s going to be dark soon. Get your ass out
here, so we can get you back to the settlement, unless you prefer hanging
around with the zombies.”

Two more
of the walking dead were slain as she waited impatiently.

“Your
funeral,” she declared, her patience gone.

It
wasn’t until the squad had moved halfway to the nearest intersection, large
enough for Ronnie to land and providing them with a clear line of sight in all
directions, that the door finally opened. A man wearing a sweatshirt and jeans
stepped forth.

“About
damn time.”

“Got at
least one more inside,” warned Jimmy. “There’s a face in the window furthest
left. Gone now.”

“Everyone
keep a close watch,” ordered Renee softly, prior to closing the distance. She
stopped fifteen feet short of the house. “What took you so long?”

“We
didn’t know who you were,” he replied, his voice and eyes full of apprehension.

The man
did not appear dangerous, perhaps the complete opposite. He was certainly
acting timid.

“Nice
accent,” she remarked. “You’re not a local. Where did you come you from?”

“Canada.”

Renee repressed
a groan. The woman had no love for Canadians, thinking them whiners in the
extreme who, aside from exporting hockey players to the NHL, never did anything
of value. Well, they were also good at imposing unreasonably high taxes on the
populace.

“They
have a military in Canada, before this happened?”

He took
a step back. “Are you soldiers?”

“What do
you think? You saw the heavily armed helicopter we flew in on, the fatigues we’re
wearing, the rifles we are carrying? Get the others out here. I’m taking you to
Baltis. The government will get you sorted. It’s supposed to be my day off.”
Those last words were an angry mumble.

“Baltis?”
His eyes suddenly widened. “You mean the American government? It still exists?”

This was
one of the reasons Renee hated making initial contact. Most who’d been on their
own or in tiny groups had absolutely no clue what was happening elsewhere. They
generally began spouting questions, one after another, the sort that had no
quick answers. Others were off their rocker and had to be dealt with carefully,
sometimes with violence breaking out at the most unexpected time for some meaningless
reason. Finding and eliminating enemies was far easier and every bit as
satisfying.

“Yes!
Now, get the others and your belongings. We are leaving.” She grabbed her
radio. “Ronnie, get back here for pickup.”

“Roger
that,” he said.

The Pave
Hawk soon reappeared.

“Zombies
are going to be following him,” she cautioned. “They always do, so go get your
people.”

That
sunk in, and he scurried away. A minute later he returned with two teenagers in
tow. The boy bore a strong resemblance and was likely his son. The girl was of
greater interest in that she had a Rottweiler on a leash. It appeared well
trained. They also had backpacks and several bundles.

“If the
puppy bites me,” stated Renee, “I will be annoyed and hold it against you
personally. If he shits in the helicopter, you have to clean it. Got that?”

The
teenager nodded.

“Jimmy,
check the guys. I’ll pat down the lady.” She regarded the girl. “Standard
procedure, so please hand over any weapons.”

These were
a hatchet, three knives, one .38 revolver, and a baseball bat. Their other
belongings consisted of clothes, a smattering of personal effects, and a small
amount of food.

“How
have you stayed alive for so long?” She shook her head. “Inside, and tie the
dog’s leash to one of the seat belts or hooks. Wouldn’t do to have him trying
to run around. Hold him tight too, in case he gets scared when we take off.”

“Right
over here,” added Jimmy, gesturing to the back of the chopper. It was well away
from where the militia members normally sat. They’d moved animals by air in the
past, and it rarely went well.

 

*
* *

 

The
seventeen year old, Rose, ended up spending a quarter hour cleaning Thor’s
mess. The dog was huge and appeared ferocious, but the instant Ronnie lifted
off and banked to the left, he emptied his bowels, laid down in the mess, and
let out a stream of whimpers. Poor thing. Fortunately, there was no shortage of
disinfectant.

Renee
provided the trio with some basic information while she waited for this chore
to be completed. There was a quick description of the current political
situation. On the domestic front, there was the American military which had
survived somewhat intact, if greatly diminished, and the continued existence of
a freely elected civilian government. She also went into detail on how there
were two autonomous mainland settlements: the Black Hills and Yellowstone.
Because Yellowstone had fewer people and more room, this group would likely be
sent there in the next day or so.

The
newcomers shared their tale in turn. They were from Canada, up around Regina in
southern Saskatchewan. When it all began, Ivan Ratingo and his son, Edward,
headed for the countryside. They later picked up Rose and her parents, neither
of whom survived the first winter. The plan had been to remain in the wilderness
whenever possible, aside from the occasional looting of isolated farm houses or
abandoned cars for food and supplies. This had not proved sustainable, and
they’d slowly been drifting south, sometimes going as far as searching
structures on the outskirts of a town.

Ivan had
been quick to say that they likely would have passed Rapid City by, except it
seemed unusually clear of the shambling dead. Renee explained how we conducted semi-regular
culls, something which would soon change. With the raiders and The Brotherhood
both eliminated, there should be no further distractions. We could finally hit
Rapid City properly and search every house and store, one by one. Renee neglected
to mention our recent conflicts. These people had experienced enough excitement
already.

After
Rose finished the cleanup to Ronnie’s satisfaction, Renee took them to the
citadel so they could be handed off to Lizzy and Laura.

 

*
* *

 

It was
late, but there was a chance Rudy might still be awake, so Renee wound her way
through the wide thoroughfares that crisscrossed the town on her way to his
cabin. Rudy had been among the first to claim a private residence, once the
number of homes available allowed for such a thing, and he continued to live
alone. Renee didn’t bother with a flashlight – the half moon and stars provided
more than enough illumination – and she tended to prefer the darkness,
especially now that it was safe to walk around at night once more.

She came
in from the side and spotted him standing in his front doorway. Only, Rudy was
not alone. He was standing close to another woman. The angle was bad, and Renee
couldn’t see her face clearly. Nor could she make out their words. However,
Renee had no difficulty in determining what they were doing. Rudy bent down to
kiss the other woman on the lips, a long, lingering, passionate embrace that
sent sparks running through her spine. Renee waited for the interloper to
depart, and only when she was well away did Renee stomp up to the door and give
it a good, solid rap.

“Honey,”
he said, surprised. “I thought you would be busy all night. You found some
people, didn’t you? That’s what everyone was saying. Were they okay?”

“They’re
fine, a little rattled about us flying in like we did, but they seem decent
enough. You ever get that quail? I considered swinging by Diane’s to see if
there was any left, but there’s no chance of that now.”

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