Z-Risen (Book 3): Poisoned Earth (9 page)

08:15 hours approximate

Location: Just outside of Oceanside

Christy had been busy gathering water from a nearby house. A week ago Joel and I had figured out that we could drain water from hot water tanks after the place we were raiding had already been picked clean. The water had been brackish and smelled none too clean, but our homemade filters made that shit taste like almost as good as low-rent Cristal.

We carefully poured the water into filters and waited while it seeped through the sand, charcoal, and fabric. They hung under the kitchen sink, and had tubes trailing into a large plastic container.

I poured out about sixteen ounces and drained it in a few long gulps--and then felt guilty for being such a hog.

Christy smiled at me and handed over another bottle. I sipped this one like a reasonably thirsty dude.

“Doing okay?” I asked her.

“Yeah. Just bored.”

“We found some magazines in the last house. I put a stack near the door.”

“I know, but it’s all old news. Who cares which celebrity is getting married or which one has a baby bump? They’re all gone now anyway.”

“Maybe we should write a story together.”

“I’m not that creative, Creed. You’re the writer.”

“Not much of one. I just write down our daily adventures, and I’m not very good at it,” I said.

“You’re really good. I read the first log book and thought it was great. Lots of misspellings, but it didn’t bother me.”

“I’ll hire an editor when the world is restored,” I chuckled. “You should ask before reading them.”

“You and Kelly were gone for a while, so Anna and I looked at them. Anna said you exaggerated a lot.”

I coughed.

“But she said you were kind of a badass.” Christy leaned close. “She told me not to tell you that.”

I looked over my shoulder and found Anna’s eyes on mine. I winked, but her face was stone. Then she closed her eyes and rolled onto her side.

“I guess it doesn’t matter. You can read them. I’ll put this conversation in the new log book.”

“Oh jeez.”

The camper took a hard turn, then slowed.

Last night we’d been laying up in an open parking lot that was filled with ransacked cars. Our vehicle was as far away from the Walmart as possible while still leaving at least two exits. We didn’t bother with the store, because the doors were shattered and carts and debris littered the entryway.

Someone had spray-painted obscenities over the front of the building. Others had even seen fit to crawl up on the roof and hack at the bright blue signs, leaving just a few letters intact so that it spelled out ALMA.

I was pretty sure people were camped on top of the building, but we didn’t bother to investigate. If they stayed out of our shit, we’d stay out of theirs. Joel and I walked the perimeter of the camper, then ranged out to check for anything of interest, but as suspected, the few abandoned cars had long since been stripped of anything useful.

“That’s a good idea: build a fort on top of a big-ass Walmart. It’s easily defensible and you could hide out from Zs pretty easy,” I said.

“Yeah, until the place is surrounded by five thousand fools looking for flesh. Remember when we fled our first Fortress?” Joel said, making sense as usual.

“They must know the trick, then, because whoever is up there isn’t surrounded.”

“One mistake, and it’s undeadville, as you like to say. Like kicking over a soup can with those big feet of yours.”

“Gimme a break, man,” I said.

“Let’s head out,” Joel answered.

The truck rumbled to life and then lurched forward. I got a hand out to steady myself, and then stood with popping knee joints.

Christy grabbed a couple of old magazines and put them on the table, then hopped up to page through them. I grabbed one and joined her, but within a few minutes I was also bored, because Christy was right: these things didn’t matter anymore.

Next chance we got, I was going to bring back a stack of paperbacks to help pass the time.

I laid out our weapons and inspected each and every one. If Joel had taught me one thing, it was that we needed to keep our guns ready for action. Christy was a quick study, and pitched in to help. Together we stripped guns, ran rags over the moving parts, and lubricated them from a can of motor oil.

Christy smiled more than once as we sat in companionable silence, so I smiled back. When we were done, I slipped the Springfield XDM 9mm into its holster.

The next few hours weren’t so bad after all.

###

16:15 hours approximate

Location: Just outside of Oceanside

After bumping along back roads at a crawl for several hours, Joel brought the truck to a halt.

I’d been eyeing the world from inside the camper while we bounced along. It wasn’t just the main roads; even the back alleys and paths had been littered with debris and abandoned cars. Bodies--always bodies, most unmoving--blocked us at points. I’d gotten used to jumping out of our vehicle and helping Joel move the dead out of the way, or bashing in the heads of rotters before dragging them off to the side.

Now that we’d stopped, I looked outside and found that we were near a housing development that was somewhat secluded, thanks to a tall line of cypress trees. The place looked like a country club in the making. Half-finished homes lay next to completed two-story stucco- and particle-board-sided buildings.

I stepped out of the camper and joined Joel and Roz.

“Nice place you found,” I said.

“I think Oceanside is just a few miles west of our location. Tomorrow we should see Pendleton,” Joel said.

“You think we’re going to find the base operational?” I had to ask. We’d had this goal for weeks, and now that it was within reach, I wondered if we would find what we were even looking for. The camp could be a graveyard for all we knew.

“That’s the hope, brother. That’s the hope,” Joel said.

“What now?”

“We need a place to sleep. Gonna take a look around. You two scout around but stay close. I’ll get on top of the camper and cover you, but if you see Zs, you come back and we’ll leave,” Joel said.

“Aye aye, captain,” I said with a smirk.

He clambered up the side of the camper to the roof. Joel stood up and scanned the area, hand shading his eyes as he took up lookout duty.

Roz and I explored but didn’t find anything except homes with kicked in doors--assuming they had even been completed. I thought I saw a pair of eyes peeking out from one house, but decided not to investigate any further.

The largest problem was a pile of people who’d been dragged into the street and shot in their heads. From the state of decay--that was, rot and shredded clothing that might have been gnawed at by feral dogs--it was hard to tell if they’d been alive when they were killed or had already been Zs.

We found a heap of bodies with a row of decapitated heads next to it. They were stacked up in an obscene pyramid. Darkened and in some cases blood-filled eye sockets, from which dried-out and damned eyes stared back.

We dragged bodies off to the side, Joel with a stubborn look on his face, me with a red bandana wrapped around mine. It didn’t really help to alleviate the smell, but it made me feel like I was making the effort.

A mini-horde of moaners found us just as we cleared the road, so we got back in the truck and drove on. No reason to stick around and try to slaughter them when they weren’t a threat.

After we finished our sweep, Joel located a house with a carport and backed
in, because with night falling, the development seemed the best place to call home for the night.

“Looks like Joel found us a pretty swanky place,” I said to Anna.

I inspected her wound. It looked good, as far as my untrained eye could tell. It was hot around the entry point, but I suspected that was okay. I’d ask Roz later.

“We need another location to sleep that isn’t this cramped camper, especially since Joel snores,” I said.

“So do you, Creed. You snore like a goddamn train. Get me some fucking earplugs the next time you make a supply run.”

“Earplugs? You wouldn’t hear the Zs coming,” I said, and made claws out of my hands, lifting them in my best approximation of a zombie.

“You’re scarier when you snore,” she said.

I rolled my eyes and lurched forward as the truck came to a stop. Joel cranked it to the right and then backed
up again. Christy rose and looked out the window. She carried her snub-nosed revolver in one hand. I had to admire the kid. She’d gone from a sad and awkward teen to a tougher and still-awkward teen ready to pop a Z in the head if they got too close.

Anna pushed the sheet aside. She wasn’t wearing much, and my eyes traveled up and down her legs. It’d been a week since we’d been intimate, and I missed looking at her.

Anna followed my eyes and blew out a breath. “Perv.”

“I’ve been staring at walls for days. You’re a sight, baby,” I said.

Anna tugged her pants on and got to her feet. She leaned over and put her hand
on my shoulder. I reached for her, but she shook her head.

“Sorry. Just a little dizzy. I’m okay now.”

Joel opened the door. “We’re here, kids. I hope you ain’t been fighting back here.”

Christy giggled and slipped past him. Anna wrapped her belt around her waist and slid the Smith & Wesson M&P R8 into the holster. She moved to the door, and Joel helped her down.

I grabbed my wrench and joined them.

###

16:30 hours approximate

Location: Just outside of Oceanside

The house had two entry points, not including the windows. It was two stories, and the paint hadn’t been applied on the inside or out. There was a For Sale sign driven into the ground outside. The lawn was dirt where grass would have been layered in long strips. A few shrubs had been planted, but most of them were now wilted.

Place like this was probably kept up until a potential buyer happened along. With the current drought conditions in California it wasn’t a surprise. Should say
former
drought conditions. Without thirty-eight million people constantly showering, watering lawns, and filling pools, it stood to reason that there was now enough water to go around. All we had to do was find a mountain, and we’d have an unlimited supply.

“Pools,” I said.

“Bars,” Joel said.

“What?”

“Thought we were just saying random fucking words, Creed.”

“I was just thinking--California is filled with pools. We should find one that isn’t too stagnant and stick a hose in. Siphon up a bunch of water and filter or boil it.”

“Damn, Skippy, you’re pretty smart for a squid,” Joel said.

I shot him the finger.

“That’s a good idea. Maybe tomorrow we can scout some of the houses and look for water. It’s been relatively cool. The problem is all the chlorine. I don’t know if we can filter it out. Plus the pools have been sitting unattended for close to two months. I’m not even sure if we should risk it,” Roz said.

Joel nodded. He slung his AR-15 around his neck on his two-point sling and double-checked his sidearm.

Joel and Roz walked the perimeter while Anna, Christy and I kept an eye out for Zs and moved our supplies near the back door. I tapped a few windows and then moved away. No faces--living or dead--appeared.

The backyard butted up to a small wooded area that made me think twice about this location.

“You sure that’s safe?” I said and pointed at the trees.

“I figure it will be a last resort. We can move faster than Zs if we have to run. The trees’ll slow them down. There’s another house that’s done and has a better view all around, but I saw something moving inside.”

“I don’t feel like a Z hunt tonight,” I said.

About the worst thing in the world was going through a house, clearing it, and hoping we weren’t surprised by some crafty rotter who’d shamble out of a closet while we had our backs turned.

When we reached the rear of the house I tried the door, but it was double-locked. I pushed, but Joel motioned for me to join him.

“See that window?” He pointed.

“Yeah, but how am I going to get up there? I don’t see a ladder.”

“I’m going, you weigh more than me.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” I said.

“'Cause you’re gonna give me a boost.”

Joel put his assault rifle on the ground and motioned for me to cup my hands.

“You kidding? I’m not sure I can lift you with all that damn gear.”

“One way to find out, sailor. I could climb up on your shoulders if that makes you feel better. Just stand there like a big-ass tree.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” I said and cupped my hands.

Joel put his boot in my improvised sling and his hands on my shoulders.

“On three,” he said.

We counted and he jumped. I felt like I was flinging him into the air, but he caught the edge of the roof. He nearly ripped the gutter off, but managed to pull himself up until his legs were dangling. He dragged himself over, then flipped around and motioned toward me. I handed Joel his assault rifle and backed away to watch.

Joel moved to the window and stared inside for a few seconds. He pressed the jamb and lifted. The portal opened without a sound.

Joel slipped inside and then was gone from sight.

###