Z-Burbia 3: Estate Of The Dead (28 page)

There are a few grumbles, but they let me continue.

“Deep down I don’t think Brenda liked who she had become, even before Z-Day, and she overcompensated for that. I’m just pop psychologizing here, but I think that’s the root of it. She backed herself into a corner, which only got worse post-Z, and she didn’t know how to get out. She had a lot of hate and anger and that was her go to when pushed to the limit.

“But in the end she did work her ass off for the people she represented. She gave a crap about her responsibilities and duties. As crazytown as that woman was, you couldn’t call her a slacker. She was devoted to making sure some semblance of society survived.”

The crowd is silent except for a few coughs and sniffs.

“And that’s what it’s all about, right?” I ask them. “Making sure some semblance of society survives? It won’t ever be the same as pre-Z. That’s not possible. But it can be good. Well, as good as we can make it. That’s why I need every single one of you to be at the meeting tonight.”

There are some groans.

“No, no, I’m serious. Brenda would be at that meeting, you know that. Big Daddy would be at that meeting, you know that too. But this isn’t about leaders, this is about lives.
Your
lives. We need your input, we need your thoughts, we need
you
.”

I nod and walk away from the podium.

“Be there, please. We don’t have much time. We never have.”

***

Detonation Day plus eighteen.

“I don’t like it,” I say, “it leaves us defenseless.”

“Thanks,” Stuart says as we sit around the tables that have been pushed together for our last meeting before evacuation. “Way to make an old man feel special.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” I reply, leaning back in my chair and looking at the other faces that have joined us in Critter’s “saloon” to go over the final plans before we leave in two days. “I just meant that with Cassie and the sisters off on their mission, we’ll only have Critter’s men, John, Reaper, and Elsbeth to help protect us between here and Kansas City.”

“Lourdes and her PCs will meet us along the way,” Buzz says. “Soon as they scout ahead. Supposed to wait for us just past Knoxville.”

“My guys are ready,” Critter adds. “Plus you have my other nephews, not to mention my niece.”

“And it’s not like everyone else hasn’t seen some type of combat,” John adds. “Hell, your kids can fight like the best of them.”

“Charlie isn’t fighting shit,” Stella says from my side. “He’ll be sitting in a backseat with a book.”

“With a rifle across his lap,” John says. “The kid can shoot. You don’t
take down a chopper like he did without natural ability.”

“He got lucky,” Stella says.

“Then he has that on his side,” John says. “Just proves my point.”

“I don’t think it does,” Stella frowns.

“Okay, okay, we’re getting
off
point,” I say. “What I’m trying to get across is most everyone is shell shocked. I don’t know how much fight they have left and we have hundreds of miles to cover through a fucking zombie wasteland. I’d prefer if the sisters stayed with us.”

“We need the intel,” Stuart says
, “and they are the only ones that can get it and survive to get back to us. Plus, we told them that if they don’t have any new information in two weeks they’re to abandon Atlanta and catch up to us.”

“El?” I ask, looking across the table at the silent ex-canny girl. “Thoughts?”

“People will fight,” she shrugs, “or they die. Anyone that doesn’t fight is stupid and stupid should die.”

“Great, thanks,” I smile
, “that helped a lot.”

“Listen, Long Pork,” Critter says
, “you’re spooked because Asheville failed. You’re taking it personally and talking out your ego. You gotta let that go.”

“That was even less helpful than what Elsbeth said,” I snap.

“He’s kinda right, Jace,” Melissa says. “You can’t expect to fix everything. It doesn’t matter how many people we have with us. Because once we get out on that road, you won’t be able to think our way out of danger. And that scares the shit out of you.”

“Stella?” I ask. “A little backup?”

“The radiation levels have risen in the French Broad,” Stella says. “It hasn’t drifted here yet, but it will. We can’t stay, Jace, and getting pissy won’t stop that.”

“Getting pissy?” I growl. “What the fuck is this? An intervention?”

“Maybe,” Stuart shrugs. “How about you give that brain a rest and stop looking at all the angles?”

“You have got to be
…”

“Shut up, Jason,” Stuart says quietly.

“What?”

“Just shut up,” Stuart says.

He sighs and rubs his face. I can see the strain everything has taken on him; the man looks a thousand years older than he did just last year when we were sitting in Whispering Pines more worried about bums trying to get in than Consortiums or trying to move everyone across country.

“You’ve been a huge part of this group, Jace,” Stuart says. “You came up with ideas that no one else could. You’d have made a great city planner somewhere, but this is a military operation. This is convoy tactics. You need to take a step back and listen to those with the experience.
If we try to plan for every single contingency, we’ll never leave.” He leans forward on the table and makes sure he has my attention, which he does. Fully. “And there will be casualties. It’ll be impossible to take a group this size nearly a thousand miles and expect everyone to live. That’s just not possible.”

Stuart leans back and lets that settle in for a minute. It’s more unsettling,
actually, but I get what he’s saying.

“So damned if we do and damned if we don’t, eh?” I say.

“Damned if we don’t, for sure,” Stuart says. “Damned if we do then? No way to know.”

“Fine, fine,” I say
, “I’ll let y’all work out the rest. I’ve planned as much as I can. The convoy will at least be as efficient as it can be. I have that fucking shit organized.”

“Long Pork is good at organizing fucking shit,” Elsbeth says.

Everyone tries to hold it in, but they burst out laughing. Elsbeth looks around like she doesn’t know what’s going on, but I see a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. I think she likes her role in this group.

“Uh, Uncle Critter?” Gunga says from the doorway.

“Saloon is still closed, Gunga,” Critter says. “Give us a few more minutes, will ya?”

“Sure, right, but…” He trails off and looks back over his shoulder.

“What’s up?” Buzz asks, getting to his feet. “You got me worried, little brother?”

Little brother. Always makes me laugh since Gunga is the size of a tractor trailer.

“There’s a man here,” Gunga says. “A stranger. Just walked into the holler.”

“Walked in?” Critter asks, his face clouding with anger. “Nobody just walks into my holler.”

“Well, uh, he did,” Gunga says. “Ain’t no one seen him ‘til he was walking up the middle of the field.”

“Someone’s getting their ass handed to them,” Critter snarls. “Fallin’ asleep on the job is what gets ya kicked out of the convoy.”

“No need for discipline of that sort,” a man says as he looks around Gunga’s bulk. “I’m naturally stealthy. Been practicing it since before the dead rose.”

The man is
in his mid-sixties, short, skinny and has only a few wisps of white hair floating about his bald skull. His skin is weathered, like he’s spent the past few years outside, which is very possible. His clothes are patched and worn, but surprisingly clean.

“May I come in, gentlemen and ladies?” he asks, his tone that of a kindly professor. Which immediately puts me on edge. “I believe I can help with your situation.”

“Sir, I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you…” Critter starts.

“Mr. Fitzpatrick, I can assure you I am an ally here,” the man says. “One that will prove quite valuable. You are all leaving for Kansas City in two days, yes?” He waits for a response, but gets none. “Yes, well, no need to confirm. I know I’m correct.”

There’s a strange growling, low and menacing, from the table and I glance around.

Elsbeth.

“You will be crossing several hundred miles, which will be dangerous in of itself, all without knowing what awaits you,” he continues. “You are going to a settlement that you think will take you in. Let me be very frank, my friends, they will not.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Stuart asks.
“And how the hell do you know what Kansas City will do or not do?”

“First, let me address the latter,” the man says.
“Kansas City, or the Combine, as it was known, does not exist any longer. It has been wiped out, to use a phrase. All that is left is charred earth and the ghosts of thousands. You’ll want to adjust your plans and head for Boulder, Colorado, and the Stronghold.”

“How do you know this?” I ask.

“That’s of no consequence,” the man says, waving me off. “What is of consequence is no matter where you want to go, whether it’s the Stronghold, the Temple, the Garden, Circuit City, or anywhere else, you will not be allowed in without an invitation.” His smile turns and chills run up and down my spine. “Or without an introduction.”

“Let me guess,” Critter says
, “you can get us an invitation to the Stronghold?”

Elsbeth stands up and before we know
it, she has her blades out. I didn’t even notice she brought them with her.

“Not him,” she snarls.

“Oh, my, Ms. Thornberg, I didn’t see you there,” the man says, obviously full of shit. “How delightful to be in your presence again. Are your sisters here?”

“El,” I say, standing up and putting my hand carefully –
very carefully
- on her shoulder. “What’s up? You know this guy?”

“I know him,” she says, her e
yes turning to mine. “He’s the Devil.”

“Well, that’s a bit of hyperbole, I believe,” the man chuckles. “I’m just as human as any of you fine folks, let me assure you of that.”

Everyone else gets to their feet, their eyes going from Elsbeth to the short, old man.

“I think you should cut the crap, mister,” Stuart says
, “and tell us who you are before we let our friend do to you what her body language is telling me is going to be something very nasty and very violent.”

“Of course, of course,” the man says, taking a small bow. “My name is Kramer.” He stands straight and locks eyes with Elsbeth. “Doctor Stanley Mar
tin Kramer. At your service.”

Elsbeth leaps at the man and it takes every able-bodied person in the saloon to take her down and keep her from chopping the guy up. It also takes all of them to keep from getting chopped themselves.

Not being of the able-bodied ilk, I walk up to the little man and bend down, getting right in his face.

“Who the fuck are you, man?” I ask.

But he doesn’t answer. Instead, he smiles at me and begins to hum some nursery rhyme, which sends Elsbeth into an even bigger frenzy.

I take a step back, seriously creeped out, and listen to his humming. Is that…Wheels On The Bus?

What. The. Fuck?

The End

Z-Burbia will return
later in 2014!

Read on for a free sample of THE SAGA OF THE DEAD SILENCER Book 1: Bleeding Kansas

1

This is it, the day we’ve been looking forward to for so long, and it’s not starting well. Claire wakes up feverish and phlegmy, too sick to drive me to the airport. There’s not much to say but sorry, hope you feel better, before she crawls back into bed.

The next thing I know I’m loading my luggage into the trunk of the cab because it turns out the cab driver should have called in sick himself. “Hey, sorry, man, you know how it goes!” he says. “Ya don’t work, ya don’t get paid!”