A Time to Kill Zombies

by Jill James

  He held up three fingers and made his hand into a claw shape. She almost giggled before she bit her lip. They’d agreed on the sign for the undead. He’d added the universal male sign of a pointed finger and thumb upright for gun to indicate real people.

  She exhaled silently. Zombies she could handle. She’d had enough of bad people who wanted to rule their small corner of the world. Inhaling, she caught the whiff of death. The skinbags were close.

  Shrugging out of her pack, she eased it to the ground against a tree and pulled her knife from the sheath. Approaching downwind sucked, but gave them a small edge. Lila sucked in a breath and held it as she ran toward the smallest of the three and shoved her knife into its skull. Two small thuds announced Jack took care of the others.

  She turned in a circle and spotted no one else, undead or alive. Wiping her knife on the finally dead guy’s shirt, she put it back in the sheath and really looked at the bodies. Two women and a young boy. Not their guy and thank God, not Selena.

  She put her hand to her chest. For a moment, all she could see was bright blonde hair and it didn’t matter the young boy was too tall to be her daughter. It took a few seconds for her heart to stop racing and to remember to scan the area.

  “No treehouse,” Jack uttered.

  Lila gazed to the treetops. Nothing that looked like a shelter, empty except for some wind-blown papers and clothing. She stared across the small clearing. A small green tent blended in with the bushes and shrubs. Ripped clothing scattered the ground as if it had been tossed about.

  “There’s no sign anyone has been here other than these three,” Jack said as he strode to the small tent. “Check for anything useful.”

  Her heart ached at the thought of scavenging over dead people’s belongings, but wasn’t it what they did every day? Scavenging from a dead world was how they were surviving. Shouldn’t there be more? Her thoughts ran laps in her brain as she picked up clothing and surveyed the area at the same time. She wanted to laugh. The ultimate multitasking; thinking and working at the same time at the end of the world as they knew it.

  Jack came back with a small handgun and a box of ammo. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “It must have belonged to one of them.”

  He nodded toward the bodies on the ground. “It’s too small for my hands and it’s just a pea-shooter, but you should carry it, just in case. Only fire if you have no other recourse because firing it would draw every skinbag in the area.”

  She pushed the release, checked the clip, shoved it back in with a click, set the safety, and put it in her pocket. “I’ll put the ammo in my pack as soon as we grab them.”

  “You did that awfully well.” His gaze went to her pocket, now bulging with the weight of the weapon.

  “I had a little .22 at home for protection. My dad taught me to shoot when I was young.”

  Her voice trailed off. No matter how much she wanted to hate the man for what he’d done to her and Jack, she still had wonderful memories of her childhood. She prayed Selena would be left with some random happy memory of Juan instead of his betrayal and evilness.

  As if he’d read her mind, Jack walked up and squeezed her arm. “It’s okay to remember the man you loved. I’m sure he had his reasons.”

  Her jaw clenched and her teeth ground together. “His reasons will never be good enough. If you had been her father all along, she wouldn’t be missing now.”

  He nodded. “Can’t argue with that logic. Let’s get our packs and keep moving.”

  They gathered their belongings and anything of use at the small campsite and hiked up the narrow path. Just when Lila thought she couldn’t go any further, a large clearing opened up. A huge, majestic Live Oak stood in the middle of it, its branches twisting and turning, a dark black against the light-green spring leaves. Her gaze shot to the upper branches. Amid the leaves sat a treehouse. Not the small backyard one she’d envisioned, but one capable of housing at least several people, or a small family.

  Jack squatted by the firepit and put his hand on the ash. “Ice cold,” he said as he stood. “Whoever lives here has been gone for a while.”

  She craned her neck. “Do you think we can get up there and check it out?”

  He put his pack on the ground and swung himself up to the first branch. Lila went to join him, but he held his hand up in a stop motion. “Let me check it out first. Put your back to the trunk and keep watch.”

  The only sound in the woods was the rustle of the leaves and a distant birdcall. The world seemed so beautiful sometimes. Why hadn’t they appreciated it when they could? A deer stepped out of the trees and hesitated on the edge. Her breath caught. Jack called down in a deep tone and the deer’s head came up. The animal shivered and leapt back into the brush.

  A rope ladder fell in front of her. She put her pack on the ground and climbed to the house among the branches. Her mouth dropped open. The place was neat and tidy, with blankets made into beds. Two beds she was beyond thrilled to see. Hope flared in her heart. One bed was enormous and had at least seven or eight blankets. The other was small and reminded her of a nest.

  Her breath caught. “Selena likes to sleep that way. Like a little bird in a nest.”

  She walked over and inhaled deeply, as if she would know if her child had been here by scent alone. Wadded up paper littered the crate being used as a bedside table. A stub of a candle sat on top.

  Grabbing a paper, she unfolded it. Her hands shook. Selena’s writing spilled across the pages. She’d know it anywhere, down to the heavy strikethroughs for misspelled words and mistakes and stars for stuff she wanted to remember. She brought the page to her chest, the paper crinkling in her clenched hands.

  “She’s here,” she whispered.

  “What does it say?” he asked. “Maybe it has some clue to where they are.”

  Bringing it to her face, she smiled at Selena’s spelling that was not the best, hence why she would scribble over misspelled words and rewrite a whole paper to have it one hundred percent right.

  “Mister Toby is taking me foraging today. We had the last of the rabbits and he is hoping we find some fruit in cans so we don’t get scurvy.” She laughed. “She crossed that out three times before she got it right.”

  “Fruit in cans means they headed to houses or stores. Stores are too dangerous. Why take chances when houses would be lower risk? We’ll have to ask and hope someone saw a large man and a little girl.”

  She folded the paper and shoved it in her pocket as if to have a piece of Selena with her. “I feel like we are so close. Where is Selena?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Paul, Suz, and Josh

  Paul Luther’s Log

  Ryde Hotel (New Base of Operations)

  Ryde, California

  Spring, 1 AZ

  Old John may be trouble. I had Josh keeping an eye on him, but he has made his disdain known about our living arrangements. He can keep his hatred all he wants if he doesn’t cause trouble. For the moment, Charlie’s son, Tyler is tailing him. The boy has a devious but useful side to him. He could sneak up on a rattlesnake.

  “Perhaps we should find another place,” Suz said, her breath warm against his chest.

  Paul reached down and ran a hand down her naked back. They were both wet with perspiration after an hour of wonderful love-making.

  “I refuse to spend our time together discussing Old John and his homophobia.”

  She laughed, the husky tones stirring him to arousal. “He is an asshole, isn’t he?”

  “No more talking,” he whispered, taking her lips with his. His heart pounded as his hands followed his gaze down his wife’s sleek body. His hand cupped her breasts, the soft flesh overflowing his grasp. Her moans had him hard and ready.

  “I love you,” he whispered into her ear as he slid into her waiting warmth. Their bodies moved together, harder and harder, faster and faster, until he exploded within her. Her body arched and her moan of ecstasy joined his.

  He rolled over ready to g
o back to sleep as the sunlight peeked through the blinds. He groaned as her fingertips tickled over his nipples, bringing them to hardness.

  “No rest for the wicked,” she murmured as she sat up and got dressed. She turned to him once she pulled on her shorts and a T-shirt. “Get out of bed. You have commander things to do.”

  “I’m not the commander,”

  “You are until and if Jack returns.”

  He started to protest but she stopped him with her hands on her hips. “You know he may not return. A million things could happen to him and Lila, the least of them, the skinbags. You’ve told me a thousand times we have to carry on. No one person is as important as the group.”

  He sat up and she walked over to stand between his thighs, her hands on his shoulders. “No one person.”

  “That certainly includes Old John,” he said, mumbling a few choice words under his breath.

  “Do what I do with Rogue Vantage and the girls. Keep them so busy they are too tired to cause trouble.”

  “Maybe I should try that with John. By the time we move the turret guns to the upper floors, he’ll be too tired to say a word or roll his eyes or irritate people.”

  She hugged him and headed to the door. “That’s the spirit.”

  Once Suz left, Paul got out of bed and dressed. Even if John didn’t help, they needed the guns up the stairs. He wasn’t sure they could make it, but Muncy and his boys said they had a plan.

  An hour later the plan was in motion. Charlie had been a piano mover in his former life and he used his knowledge to get the turret guns off two of the Humvee and placed front and back in rooms on the upper floor of the hotel.

  “Thanks, Charlie,” he said, slapping the man on the back. All he got for it was a grunt. The man treated words like cash and spent them like a miser with gold.

  The guns would be a great last line of defense but the building sat too close to the road for his peace of mind. “We need a wall. Even if it’s just sandbags. Something to wait behind if anyone comes up the road or on the river.”

  “Humvee up the road both ways. Stop before they get here,” the man said.

  Paul stared at him. More words than the man had said in days. It might work, but it would spread their group too thin. Maybe if Teddy and Seth and their group showed up soon. They would have a few more people to use in key positions.

  “Rocks,” Charlie grunted at him.

  “What?” Paul ran a hand over his hair.

  “Fisher and his rocks,” Charlie said and walked back toward the hotel.

  He smiled. Brandon Fisher and his boulders for the levee repair. They could get a few loads and get started on a barricade. Something was better than nothing. Following the man into the hotel, Paul swerved left and headed to the office and the phone.

  Before they’d left the Fisher farm, Brandon and his friends had started to move in together so it was a simple call to the telephone hub and to talk to the big man about delivering some rocks.

  That done, Paul headed toward the delicious smells coming from the hotel kitchen and dining room. Nothing smelled as good as fried chicken. Billy’s chickens had been attacked by a fox or coyote and he’d lost a third of his flock. His wife had raised the chickens and refused to eat them, so Paul’s group got a home-cooked meal.

  He spotted Zach Muncy talking to the boys of Rogue Vantage. The older ones, Aiden and Bryant hung on the older boy’s every word. He strode up to them. “Zach, I’d like you to be on fishing duty with the boys here. You’ll be in charge. I saw some fishing poles in a closet by the check-in desk. Anytime Shannon and Suz don’t need you for anything, I need you all fishing. The chicken will be great today, but when it’s gone, it’s gone.”

  “Yes, sir,” they all chimed in.

  He reached out and ruffled Dylan’s hair. The boy beamed up at him. He sobered at the thought these boys were orphans. All they had was each other and the group. He steeled his spine and straightened his shoulders. Suz’s words came back to him. He was the commander of this group. He had to hold it together. For today and for the future.

  * * *

  Suz watched with pride as Paul took command of the group. Jack Canida had held the group together by his sheer willpower. He never ordered anyone to do anything. Everyone had free will. By allowing them that, they all tried harder to contribute to the group. But there had been dissenters, like Lila’s husband, Juan. She’d stood in the crowd as Juan pulled his wife and child from the RV yard and took them away to the church. Her heart had broken at Lila’s and Selena’s cries and she’d wanted to argue with Jack, but he was their leader and Paul’s best friend.

  She watched as her husband ruffled Dylan’s hair. Jack had stood apart from the group, as if commanding was a lonely place on a hillside. Maybe it was from having command from the start or for so long. Granted, Paul had a much smaller group to command, but he seemed to have the feeling that they were all in this together and being organized got things done, and he showed it, giving each person a job they could manage and enjoy as much as possible.

  She wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand and returned to the chicken. Fresh tomatoes sat on the cutting board. Josh stood there with a smile on his face.

  “They have a greenhouse out back,” he explained. “Some of the stuff isn’t ready, but the tomatoes are weighing down the plants. We’ll have to make salsa or can them or something.”

  “Can them or something, huh?” She hugged her brother. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve never canned a thing in my life.”

  “Who’s talking about canning?” Shannon walked into the kitchen. “I haven’t done that in years. My grandma taught me before I left for college and medical school.”

  Suz’s surprise must have shown on her face. The doctor laughed. “Never know when something will come in handy.”

  “I think being the only doctor is pretty handy,” Josh said. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

  Her smile faded. “I couldn’t save Jim.”

  Suz grabbed her friend and hugged her tightly. The doctor’s shoulders shook and she could hear the sobs wracking her small frame. Shannon pulled herself together and turned away.

  “It’s like each death is a little easier to forget and move on. How soon until we don’t care at all?”

  Suz grabbed the smaller woman’s arms and made her look at her. “We will always care. We will always want each death to be the last one. We have to keep our humanity to pass it down to the next generation or it really won’t matter at all if they are all barbarians.”

  “I just miss him so much,” she said, her voice stuttering to a stop on a sob. “I wake up and think it was all a nightmare and then I realize it wasn’t. It just hurts so damned much.”

  She thought of losing Paul and her heart jumped in her chest. She really hadn’t known him that long. They’d been a couple for an even shorter time. Before the zombies, before the flu pandemic, they would probably still be just dating.

  Suz smiled at Shannon. “We are living a lifetime in every day. Each night when we go to sleep we can say ‘I made it through another day’. We win with each day we survive.”

  The doctor puffed out a big sigh. “It just doesn’t get any easier.”

  The clamor from the dining room raised another notch. “It won’t get easier if we don’t hurry and feed the mob either. They may riot.”

  Suz and Shannon rushed to get the food ready and Josh went back and forth carrying platters of food for them. Soon the rush was over, with everyone going his or her separate ways. She caught her breath and sat at the end of a cluttered table to eat her own meal.

  Josh started cleaning up and she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a seat beside her. “Charlie and his boys volunteered to clean up and do dishes. Sit with me.”

  Her brother pulled his chair closer and leaned his head on her shoulder. They hadn’t sat like that since they were kids. Back then, most people thought they were twins even though they had four years bet
ween them.

  “You slut. I bet you fuck your brother, too.”

  The angry, ugly words washed over her. Old John stood in the entry way to the dining room, his face beet red and his body shaking. He looked ready to have a stroke and for a moment she wished he would.

  Josh tried to stand up and his hand reached for his knife. She grabbed his arm and yanked him down, the chair moving and squeaking on the linoleum floor. “Don’t, Josh. He isn’t worth it. He’s an old man and he doesn’t know any better.”

  “You people make me sick,” he yelled across the room.

  “And you make me sick,” a deep voice she knew as well as her own spoke from behind her. That it was spoken in a soft tone worried her more than if Paul had bellowed it across the expanse of the large room.

  “This is your last warning. I won’t tell you again. The world has moved on, old man. It is what we make of it. It is how we choose to live in it. You are with us or you are against us. It’s time to decide.”

  Old John dropped his head and shuffled away.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Cody, Miranda, and April

  Ran’s Journal

  On the river heading northeast (I think)

  Spring, 1 AZ (feels like summer)

  I’m not afraid to die, just don’t want to come back undead. When I fell in at the dock I just wanted to make sure I took the skinbags with me. But I could see the sky above and the sun shining and everyone standing on the dock and I couldn’t fight them. They would drag me down until I joined them. When it was over all I could see was Cody’s pale face. I swear I heard his heart break. It was like I was me and I was him at the same time. I don’t ever want to put that look on his face again.