The North: A Zombie Novel (8 page)

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Authors: Sean Cummings

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BOOK: The North: A Zombie Novel
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The crest I’d chosen to go to ground was surrounded by eight-foot-high scrub brush, providing excellent concealment for both carriers. Doug and Kenny parked back-to-back; the APC’s facing east and west to give both turrets a 360 degree field of vision for our night sentries. We couldn’t open the rear doors without the interior lights spilling into the darkness and giving away our position, so any interaction between Arks One and Two would have to be via radio. The swarm following had to be more than 15 km behind us – we’d gunned our engines to about 30 km/hr and driven cross country for 45 minutes after we fuelled up. I estimated there was little chance they’d catch up to us by first light – we’d still be about three or four clicks ahead, and that was a conservative estimate. The ground was uneven and there were cattle fences stretched out across former farmland, as well as a host of other man-made obstacles.

But that didn’t mean we were going to kick back and relax. Each one of us was determined to stay vigilant. One thing you learn when you’re a soldier is the reasons why things are seen: shape, silhouette, shadow, spacing, texture, light and movement. There’s also the other issue of noise. Sound travels farther at night, because you don’t have to compete with every other living thing that might be awake during the daytime, though since Day Zero, cities and towns had fallen silent. The only sounds we’d heard from the safety of the armory were the creeps shuffling around the city and sporadic gunfire in the distance. Now that we were in open country, we’d have to invoke stricter discipline during the silent hours.

We’d pulled blackout covers over all the viewing ports in the carrier, and the interior of our machine was now bathed in red light, which took everyone a few minutes to adjust to. White light can seep through blackout covers and draw attention to your position, but red light is far less noticeable.

I sipped on a drinking box of orange juice with my back to the rear doors while Kate brushed Jo’s long red hair, trying not to tug the small hairbrush too hard every time she encountered a knot. It was shortly past eight o’clock, and we’d been out of the armory now for more than fourteen hours.

“How’s everyone holding up?” I asked as I watched Sid dole out foil packages of rations from the simmering pot of water over a portable mountain stove.

He sniffed loudly as he pulled a hunting knife out from its sheath; slicing open a steaming hot bag of corn beef hash. “I’m good … all things considered,” he said, poking his knife around the contents. “MMMM … corn beef hash. This is just like Christmas dinner.”

Dawson slipped the hairbrush back into her rucksack and then began to braid Jo’s hair. “We’re going to have to cut your hair one of these days, Jo. It’s getting pretty long now.”

Jo flashed me a toothless grin as I opened her pouch of ravioli and blew inside to cool it off. “Maybe I could get my hair chopped like Pam. Or maybe a Mohawk!”

Sid snorted. “Then we could count the freckles on your scalp, squirt. Or maybe play connect the dots with ‘em.”

Jo threw him a sour look. “I don’t have freckles on my scalp, and even if I did they’d be beauty marks, right, David?”

I took a swig on a cup of instant coffee and then sliced open my ration pack. Naturally it was the one containing the dreaded ham omelet. “I’m not taking a position on the matter of freckly scalps, Jo. I like your hair the way it is. But then it’s not me that has to brush the knots out every day.”

The radio squawked in my earpiece. “Ark One, we’re finishing our rations and will be going to ground shortly. Radio checks every hour, on the hour?”

“Roger that – We’ll be going lights-out in about twenty minutes. Doug will be doing the first night sentry followed by Kate, me and then Sid. I’ll have a route established for first light and will radio it to you during my sentry shift. Over.”

“Ark Two, roger over,” the radio hissed.

“Hull drains to dump out the … well, you know?” asked Sid.

I grimaced. Everyone would have to go to the bathroom at some point and I’d already relieved myself in an empty bottle. It was easy for a guy to urinate, but not so easy for a girl and while Jo could hide behind a poncho liner to do her business, I felt sorry for Kate. I didn’t bother asking her how she’d been going all day, – she wasn’t exactly pleased when Sid whipped it out and pissed off the side of the carrier two hours earlier. Also, nature would eventually call for all of us to defecate, and we sure as hell weren’t going to do it inside of the APC, for obvious reasons. Back at the armory we had folding toilets that resembled a small stool; you’d simply tie a blue bag underneath the seat and do your business. The bag would then go into an oil drum in the middle of the parking compound and we burned our waste every day. We still had a folding toilet on board, but really, we’d just have to exit the carrier and squat over a log, just like infantry soldiers had been doing for thousands of years. Only in this case, the person going would have someone providing security because it has long been every soldier’s worst nightmare to get killed while taking a dump.

“Yep … hull drains it is,” I said. “Pour out your waste and everyone washes up during their shifts tonight. One bottle of water each, got it?”

The team all nodded in unison as I turned my attention to Jo. “And you, baby sister. You get to wash up before you go to sleep – you can use the leftover water in the cooking pot. And I want you to brush your teeth.”

Jo nodded as she scooped a mouthful of ravioli into her mouth. Dawson tore open her pouch of chilli with her teeth and then dumped a handful of ground up soda crackers inside.

“How far did we make it today?” she asked, as she stirred the contents with her spoon.

“About fifty kilometers,” I said. “Maybe we can do fifty tomorrow … who knows?”

Sid scraped the inside of his pouch of corn beef hash with his hunting knife. “Scrounging tomorrow, right?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Possibly. It’ll depend on what’s out there.”

“It’d be nice if we could all be together at night,” said Dawson.  ”Everyone from both carriers.”

“What do you want everyone to be crammed in for?” said Sid as he crumpled up his foil bag. “This is the problem with having chicks in combat roles – always wanting to freaking socialize.”

Dawson flashed a fiery glare his way as she edged forward on the jump seat. “You know what, Sid?”

“What?”

“Get bent,” she said angrily. “That’s what.”

Sensing a possible scrap, Jo dropped her foil pouch of ravioli and scrambled over Kate’s lap, standing in the center of the carrier to separate the pair. She threw an accusing glare at Sid and said, “I’m a girl and I’ve shot a creep, Sid. You were there … you told me I was a good shot
and
a good soldier. Well … I’m eight and Kate is fifteen. She’s twice as good as any boy.”

Sid snorted and poked at his ration pack in an attempt to avoid Jo’s gaze. “Yeah, kid … you’re a good soldier. I’m just old fashioned is all.”

“You’re a knuckle dragger,” Kate griped as she leaned back against the wall of the carrier and relaxed a little.

I swallowed a mouthful of ham omelet, doing my best not to gag. Jo climbed over my lap as I gave her a hug and whispered in her ear. “Good, job on that. You put Sid in his place.”

She hugged me back and said, “I know.”

Doug Manybears spun around in his driver’s seat to face us. “Kate’s right – it would be good to be together even if it’s not as tactically sound as Sid would like.”

“Once we run out of fuel we’ll have to abandon one carrier, and siphon all the fuel from either Ark One or Ark Two,” I replied. “Then we’ll all be piled into a single vehicle. If anything, it’ll be crammed tight.”

“And that could be tomorrow for all we know,” Sid grunted. “Still … I mean we might find an abandoned car or truck or even a minivan or something. There’s no shortage of them.”

Dawson crumpled her now empty pouch of chilli and tossed it in a garbage bag we’d taped to the turret cage. “I’m going to crash, seeing as how I’ll be up again before midnight. Two-hour sentry shifts, everyone. Nobody falls asleep during your turn or you’ll have my boot in your ass, got it?”

“I believe you’d do it, too, Kate.” I tossed my pouch in the trash. “At first light we’ll do a check on fluid levels, and I want the tire pressures checked, too, Doug. In the meantime, everyone should catch a bit of kip while they have the chance. We’re safe in here from the creeps, but we’re still exposed, so whoever is on sentry tonight, don’t second guess if you see anything moving out there. We’ll go to a full stand-to if there’s even the smallest of threats.”

Sid nodded. “Light and noise discipline – just like back at the armory.”

Jo handed me her empty foil bag and then wiped the tomato sauce off her face with a rag. “I can go on sentry, too,” she said with a hint of eagerness in her voice. “I want to help out more. I can do it.”

I felt a twinge of pride in the middle of my chest. Jo had been punching above her weight for months now and she never once complained about it.

Kate smiled warmly. “You’re already a huge help, Jo. You’re taking care of everyone with water and ammo, not to mention the fact that you don’t take up anywhere near as much room as Sid. And you don’t smell as bad, either.”

As if on cue, the giant Newfie lifted his left leg and let out a loud, vile-sounding fart. “Is there a duck in here or something? I could have sworn I just heard a duck!”

“Gross!” Dawson groaned, as she pulled her combat sweater over her nose. “That is so
frigging
gross.”

Not to be left out, Jo lifted her leg and let one go as well. “It must be contagious!” she giggled.

I shut off the combat lights and cracked open the firing port beside me. “Whoever said farting was good for morale never spent a day inside an APC with a Newfie. Sid, there is something seriously rotting inside your bowels, dude.”

Doug struck a match and then quickly blew it out. “I don’t know if this works or not, but at least it’ll take the edge off of whatever the hell crawled up Toomey’s butt. Listen, we’ve all eaten so maybe you can all hit the pit. I want to begin my shift – the sooner I’m done the sooner I can get some sleep.”

“Consider it done,” Sid said with a yawn. “Toss me my poncho liner and I’ll just zone out right here and now. Oh, and sorry about the fartage, but I’ve been holding that bugger in all day.”

“You can fart to your heart’s content
tomorrow
, Sid. We’ll be driving hatches up now that we’re out of the city.”

Dawson fanned the air in front of her face with her right hand. “That doesn’t mean we all expose ourselves – there might be a sniper out there or something. Still, the fresh air will be a blessing.”
“Good point, Kate,” I said, tossing out poncho liners from a storage shelf. “Okay, troops. Let’s get some sleep. First light will be here quicker than you think.”

 

***

 

I no longer call them nightmares. It used to be that falling asleep meant a blessed reprieve from the day’s troubles, but not anymore. Rest was something I now met with displeasure, like an unpleasant task that had to be carried out every single day. Before Day Zero, I’d dream mostly about sex. Afterward, though, my dreams were filled with the living dead.

My dreams follow a pattern, and they almost always deal with my inability to protect Jo. The first night out from the safety of the armory was no different. I dreamt about physics class at school. I was the only student in attendance – I’m usually alone when the bad dreams hit. Mr. Eldridge, our gangly, six-foot-four science nerd teacher, had his back to me. He was scribbling something about the speed of light on the white board; only the board was filled with crimson-colored handprints and splashes of blood that dripped down off the shining surface and onto the floor. He spun around quickly, his film-covered eyes staring straight through me, and his jaw dropped open like it was on a hinge, revealing a set of yellow teeth hidden neatly behind thin black lips. The skin on his face was covered with festering sores.

“You’ll do well when you join us, David,” he croaked. His voice sounded like his throat was filled with liquid. “And you
will
join us. You and your sister … it’s only a matter of time.”

I bolted upright, hitting my head good and hard on the turret cage. I was bathed in sweat as I gulped for air. Kate dropped down from her seat in the turret with a worried look on her face.


Jesus, Dave,”
she choked. “You freaking scared the shit out of me. Oh, God … you’re bleeding.”

I felt a tiny dribble of blood rolling down the middle of my forehead as I tried to get my bearings.

“Frigging shock dreams,” I said as Dawson handed me a clean rag. “Thanks.”

“I get them too,” she said grimly. “We all do.”

“What time is it?”

Dawson glanced at her watch. “About one thirty – you still have forty-five minutes until your shift.”

I shook my head as I pushed myself upright. “No point in trying to rack out now. Christ, my head hurts … anything happening out there?”

“If you mean the coyote I spotted half an hour ago, then yes. Outside of that, it’s pretty quiet, thankfully.”

“Radio checks coming in from Ark Two every hour?”

She nodded. “Yes … it’s all good. Cruze has everything under control over there. I’ve been using the other radio to see if I could pick up any other military broadcasts. Doubtful, but I thought I’d give it a try anyway.”

I dabbed at my forehead with the rag. “Anything?”

She shrugged hard. “Kind of. I’ve been getting sporadic words here and there through the static – might be Sanctuary Base, might not. I’ve been piecing them together and I think they’re getting hammered with a snowstorm or something.”

“Better them than us.”

“Want to have a listen?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, maneuvering myself away from the turret cage. Dawson climbed down into the crew commander’s compartment as I slid into the cage and slipped on the headset.

I listened carefully, but all I could hear was the faint hiss of the static, so I fiddled with the squelch knob on the radio. I was just about to turn up the volume when I saw a flash of movement through the turret viewing port. I flipped on the infra-red camera inside my periscope and peered inside. The ground, the trees, the low ground; everything was bathed in eerie green light as I scanned the area surrounding us for any signs of life.

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