This Shattered Land - 02 (5 page)

BOOK: This Shattered Land - 02
2.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

They
got mixed results.

 Some
people were happy to do their part to help out, but others were downright
hostile. There didn’t seem to be very much middle ground. Many communities felt
that the government had failed them, the military had abandoned them, and they
had no intention whatsoever of submitting to the will of a government they no
longer had any use for. ‘We’re doing just fine without you, thank you very
much’, seemed to be a common sentiment. Even among those still loyal to the
government, there was a lot of anger out there.

I
personally believed that the government had done everything they could to
contain the Outbreak, and that pointing fingers and bickering was not going to
do anyone a damn bit of good. The only thing that mattered now was destroying
the infected and rebuilding our civilization.

To
that end, the President issued a standing invitation for anyone still alive to
come to Colorado and join the growing community of Outbreak survivors there.
Last we heard, the population had swollen to more than sixty thousand,
including nearly thirty thousand military personnel.

A
few large communities in nearby states had established commerce with Colorado
Springs, and were working diligently to secure trade routes for smaller groups.
Slowly, inch by inch, combined military and civilian extermination squads were
reclaiming territory from the infected. The problem they faced was that there
were damn near three hundred million infected still roaming around just within
U.S. borders alone. Most of the country had become a gigantic dead zone. Major
cities were so infested that no one, not even the military, dared go anywhere
near them. Even outside the cities, the landscape was thick with the walking
dead. Anyone trying to make his or her way to the Rockies faced a long and
extremely perilous journey. As if that were not bad enough, warlords, bandits,
marauders, and sick-fuck opportunists roamed the wastelands in search of people
to rob, rape, pillage, and kill. It was a pretty bad situation all around.

“So,
bearing all this in mind,” Sarah said, eyeing Gabe and I as if we were a pair
of particularly slow children, “why on Earth would you leave the relative
safety of the Appalachians to risk your lives crossing fifteen hundred miles of
lawless, infected wasteland?”

 I
shrugged. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hiding on a mountain
waiting for something to kill me. I’m not stupid enough to think that getting
to Colorado is a sure thing, but if at the end of the road I have the chance to
start a new life, then it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Gabe
looked across the table and nodded his assent. Tom and Sarah grew silent for a
few moments, thinking.

“You
know, I guess I never looked at it that way.” Tom said. “We’ve spent so much
time just trying to get by one day to the next…”

Sarah
nodded. “We honestly had no idea that so many people were still alive.”

“Well,
I hate to break it to you, but it gets worse.” I said.

“Worse?”
Sarah asked, her eyes widening. “What could possibly be worse?”

I
told them about the situation outside the United States, starting with the
limited nuclear exchange in the Middle East. The table went quiet, Tom and
Sarah going pale at that. Even Brian seemed subdued. I couldn’t think of
anything comforting to say, so I moved on with the story.

The
Outbreak had spread beyond our nation’s borders and consumed nearly all of
Central and South America, but Canada was still a bit of a wild card. The
Outbreak definitely spread there, sending millions of Canadians fleeing north
to escape it, but the military was still unsure what became of them. I could
only imagine how harsh the nuclear winter must have treated them so far north,
all those people struggling along in the wilderness with no electricity, food,
or medical facilities. The President sent Special Forces units north who were
expected to return soon with news. I wasn’t getting my hopes up. 

The
government was in contact with numerous countries overseas, but had warned them
to stay away from the Americas until we could get things a little better under
control here. Switzerland, with its mountainous borders and well-armed
citizenry, was one of a handful of nations not to succumb to the undead.
Australia also survived, as did many small island nations dotted all over the
world. The UK looked like a goner for a while there, until they managed to
enlist the help of large flotillas of refugees from various European countries
fleeing the infection across the ocean. In exchange for their help fighting the
undead, the Brits offered safe haven to anyone who could make it to their
shores and contribute to the war effort. The Aussies sent them a couple of
ships full of supplies and soldiers, and together the allied forces assaulted
the legions of undead on two fronts, north and south. They still had a lot of
work to do across the pond, but the tide of the battle there had shifted firmly
in favor of the living. I just wondered how they planned to feed all of those
people once the fighting settled down.

Hawaii
was the only part of the U.S. that came out of the Outbreak relatively
unscathed, at least by the undead. Conditions there among the civilian populace
were still highly unstable. Without global trade to supply food, materials, and
fuel, the Aloha State faced many of the same problems as the rest of the world
not currently awash in stumbling, moaning ghouls. Food shortages caused
desperate, frightened people to riot, fuel supplies ran out, cars became
useless, and limited access to electricity caused thousands of people to have
to go without power. People descended in droves on lakes, reservoirs, and
rivers, only to see them quickly become polluted and overfished. Even without
the dead hunting them, human beings were dying by the thousands for want of
basic necessities. Diseases long thought exterminated, or not seen for over a
hundred years, raised their ugly heads to make an already terrible situation
infinitely worse. As hard as things were in the Appalachians, I did not envy
those poor people in the South Pacific.

No
one spoke for a few moments. The bright, festive mood that started out the
evening had faded into a somber hush.

“Listen
folks, I don’t mean for all this to be a downer.” I said. “There’s a lot more
to talk about, but the world outside of Appalachia isn’t going anywhere. I
don’t know about you, but I could go for another steak.”

Tom
looked up and smiled. “You know what, you’re right. We’ve seen enough bad days
to last a lifetime. We should take a good one where we can get it. Anybody else
still hungry?”

Gabe
raised a hand, smiling. “If you’re dishing it out, I’ll take some more.”

I
smiled. Gabriel’s prodigious appetite was one of the few things in the world
that I could always count on. The mood lightened as the evening went on. I ate
enough beans and venison to make my waistband cut into my stomach, and everyone
else seemed to have a hell of an appetite as well. Life in the high country is
tough even at the best of times, and the constant work combined with hiking at
least a dozen miles a day over rough terrain seemed to have boosted everyone’s
metabolism. I didn’t think we would be able to put away the spread laid out in
front of us, but damn if we didn’t pull it off. By the time dinner was over,
Brian was scraping the last of the beans out of the pot with a spoon, and
lamenting that he didn’t have a crust of bread to sop up the venison juice from
the pan.

Gabe
and I pitched in to help clean up. With dishes washed and the table put away,
we all settled down around the campfire and traded stories for a while. I had
almost forgotten how nice it was to be around other people, and the cool
afternoon with the Glovers was a pleasant reminder. All too soon though, the
sun began to sink low toward the rolling hills on the western horizon. I nudged
Gabe on the arm and nodded toward the fading daylight.

“Guess
we better head back toward home.” I said.

“Yeah,
don’t want to get caught out here after nightfall.” He replied.

We
said reluctant goodbyes and started back toward the cabin. On the way there, I
found myself scanning around for signs that anyone else had passed through. I
didn’t see anything, but then again, I’m not much of a tracker. Gabe is a lot
better at that sort of thing. I told him about my assessment of the Glover’s
campsite, and mentioned my concerns about other survivors in the area.

“You
think we should invite them to come and stay with us?” He asked when I
finished.

“If
you’d have asked me that question this morning I would have said no, but now…”

Gabe
nodded. “They’re good folks. I think that’s pretty obvious at this point.”

“Yeah.
I don’t think they pose any kind of a threat to us. And honestly, it would be
nice to have some other people around. I mean, you’re cool and all, but you’re
not much of a conversationalist.”

Gabe
let half a smile sneak by. “I know what you mean.”

“Tomorrow
then?” I asked.

Gabe
nodded. “Tomorrow.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Close Calls

 

We
paid the Glovers another visit the next afternoon, and made our case for
combining our resources. I think they were on the fence for a while, until
Gabriel told them about our survival shelter. I suggested that they could have
the cabin, and Gabriel and I would sleep in our underground bunker. If they
decided they didn’t like the accommodations, they were always free to come back
to their original camp anytime they wanted. That seemed to cinch the argument.

The
family followed us down the trail as we headed toward home. I took the lead and
held my rifle at the ready on its tactical sling, constantly scanning our
surroundings for signs of movement. Tom and his family bent under the weight of
their belongings, but made no complaint as we marched through the empty forest.
They had obviously seen their share hardship since the Outbreak, and it had
toughened them considerably. Even the boy carried his heavy load with a stoic
face that was far harder than it ought to be at his age.

Movement
in the high brush ahead of me caught my attention about a half mile from the
cabin. I stopped short, holding up a fist to halt the group behind me and
motioning for everyone to stay quiet. We kept low and moved to the side of the
trail, hiding in the shadows cast by the edge of the forest. The rustling ahead
of us got louder until a man lurched into view followed close behind by two
others. His feet were bare and torn, and his clothes clung to his body by a few
ragged strips that showed pale grey skin beneath. Most of the flesh on his face
was gone, revealing black teeth and creeping vines of ligaments and tendons
stretched across a bleached skull. He had one milky white eye, and one gaping
empty socket. It raised its head and cocked it to the side in a manner eerily
similar to that of a dog. The walking corpses behind it stopped and stared,
their faces slack and menacing. The one in the lead must have heard us. The
infected have an uncanny ability to track people by triangulating the source of
a sound. Even several minutes after you make a noise, they can still somehow
accurately find the spot where it came from to within a few feet. The ghoul
turned in our direction and began to shamble toward us. In a few more steps, he
would be over the crest of the hill, and he was going to see us as clear as
day. I decided not to give him the advantage of attack.

I
stood up from beside the trail and motioned for Gabriel to follow. Stepping in
front of the lead walker, I raised my rifle and took aim at his head. He
spotted me with his one remaining eye and let out that damned hideous, gurgling
moan that I have come to hate. The two behind him echoed his howl and shuffled
forward. Their cloudy, hungry eyes locked on to me as their rotten lips peeled
back from blackened teeth in a hiss. I try to sight in through my scope, but
they were too close. All I could see was a blurred, shifting image. I cursed,
and let my rifle dangle from its sling as I drew my pistol. Long hours of
practice let me attach a suppressor from a pouch on my belt in less than five
seconds. The fiber-optic sights lined up with the lead ghoul’s forehead. My
finger tightened on the trigger and the pistol bucked in my hand with a barely
audible crack. A spray of black gore erupted from the back of the creature’s
head. I drew a bead on one of the ghouls behind it and pulled the trigger again
just as the first one hit the ground. Gabriel brought up his SCAR and sighted
in through the rear aperture of his iron sights. The suppressor on the end of
the barrel would keep his shot from being deafening, but it would still be
loud. Any other infected within about fifty yards would undoubtedly hear it and
start moving in our direction. There was a sharp
crack-clang,
as the
last ghoul’s head flew apart in several directions at once. Gabe and I lowered
our weapons and scanned around, watching and listening for movement. We didn’t see
anything. I motioned to Tom and his family to follow us, taking point again
with Gabe covering our backs.

We
climbed the rest of the way up the hill and rounded a bend where the trail
emerged into a clearing. Less than a hundred yards from us was the flat peak of
the broad mountain we had been hiking up, and the cabin that my grandfather
built over sixty years ago. A couple of infected were stumbling around near the
ten-foot steel perimeter fence. I raised my rifle and picked them off before
motioning for everyone to proceed. At the fence, I pulled a chain from around
my neck and used the key attached to it to unlock the gate. A strong push
rolled it aside allowing Gabe to proceed ahead toward the cabin. Tom and his
family hesitated for a moment outside the fence, bent beneath the weight of
their possessions.

BOOK: This Shattered Land - 02
2.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Shadow of the Wolf by Kelley, Anastacia
Second Violin by Lawton, John
The Santini Collection 1-4 by Melissa Schroeder
Diane R. Jewkes by The Heart You Own
A Street Cat Named Bob by James Bowen
Lost in Hotels by Martin, M.
Sin historial by Lissa D'Angelo