“It’s not fun,” Rachelle groused, which nearly upset Heather until she reminded herself the girl was once in juvenile detention.
“It’s not that bad,” said Belinda Dunn from Worthington, Minnesota, with a dour look at Rachelle. “Classes here are more computer-based, and their programs are kind of fun.”
“Nobody makes fun of you for being a little older,” added Leticia Glass, daughter of supermodel Shauna Glass.
Carlos Alvarez, the lanky girl’s guardian and former professional wrestler, patted her belly. “That’s good, mija. Then I won’t have to bodyslam anybody for you,” he added with a wink that made her smile brightly.
“As long as they don’t try to hold you back,” said Clarissa Groenig, Miss Nobles County 2017 and first runner-up for Miss Minnesota, who bounced her baby girl upon her hip. “We kept them all pretty well updated with our curriculum.”
“They go by what their tests say,” Rachelle said resentfully. “My case worker said I didn’t get the right classes because I can’t do the new math.”
Geraldine Schacht’s eyes widened along with Clarissa’s. “They use Common Core here?”
“Sadly, Jerri, that’s not the worst part,” said the Death Doll—Didi, Heather had to remind herself. “It’s all under a looming threat that Cody and I are going to take care of, God willing.”
The miniscule encouragement in her people’s faces vanished.
“What threat?” asked Ron Tench, who like Jerri hailed from Rock Rapids, Iowa.
“President Simpson made—” Didi started to say.
Heather interrupted her. “This is not the best place to discuss this!”
“Then I’ll keep it down,” Didi said with a smirk, then closed in on her people. None of them recoiled or showed a hint of fear. “Bottom line, there are zombies out there with the same tech that made me what I am, and they’re coming.”
Murmurs spread throughout the group, but no one spoke too loudly.
“More like you?” asked Alan Hoover, a tax attorney once based in Lincoln, Nebraska.
“As I said, Cody and I are going to deal with them, with the help of Doctor Sitton, here,” Didi added with a wave at Heather. “What we need are volunteers to back us up.”
The murmurs that followed grew more panicked yet remained low until Aaron Hoover, Kearney Catholic High School gym teacher, voiced their collective terror. “A few of us against an army of yous?”
“Doctor Sitton developed a poison that basically melts zombies,” Cody said. “That was what they tested the other day in that light over the mountain. Fortunately for us, Didi’s immune, but we don’t know if these TERANs are, so we’ll have to test them. If it works, the President will wipe them and every last zombie out in one massive strike.”
“If it doesn’t?” asked Gilda Hamrick, the nurse from Madison, Wisconsin, who saved the life of Paula Birch-Herrin, the elementary school teacher in Ocheyedan, Iowa.
“That’s why I’m going,” Didi told them frankly. “If all else fails, I take it to them.”
No one looked reassured by that.
“We are asking a lot,” Cody continued, “which is why we only want volunteers.”
“You know I’m in,” Rachelle said proudly, patting the sword strapped to her back.
“We’re in,” Isaac corrected, the former car thief smacking her arm derisively.
“Count me in,” Cynthia insisted. “Hell if I’m going back to school.”
The lack of outrage from this group surprised Heather. In fact, the majority of them regarded the girl scathingly.
“You’ll need me to mask your approach,” said the Pakistani descendant Aniq Qureshi, who should’ve been in the hands of the FBI or Secret Service with so many warrants for illegally entering government systems—and hacking NORAD’s systems only yesterday.
“What happened to sticking it to the government?” Aaron asked snidely.
Nick’s bulbous eyes narrowed at the pudgy twin. “The Dead President is trying to infect everyone. Of course I want to take that guy down.”
Both twins waved off Nick in perfect unison.
“I’ll do it,” said Craig Dykstra, who held one of Jerri’s half-Asian triplets as if it was his own. “You could probably use a sniper.”
Jerri smiled at him over her other two infants with an uneasy mix of pride and dread. Heather just wondered how being an assistant manager at a lumber yard qualified him as a sniper.
“I’ll go, too,” Bob said, which drew a lot of surprised looks.
“No,” Jerri said. “If you are the last of your people, you shouldn’t risk yourself.”
Bob grinned sadly. “Even if I am, my people would understand why I have to do this, and Hell if I’m sticking around here,” he added with a smirk at Cynthia, “when I can fight on behalf of the people I have left.”
“Well, I’m staying,” said Hashim Roberson, a restaurateur from Rockford, Illinois, who had served in the Navy. “Somebody’s got to make sure our people get proper treatment here.”
“Right there with you,” Jerri said, then faced the elder nurse. “Gilda?”
“Do I look like a badass porn star with a sword?” the curly grayed woman asked with a smirk, which garnered laughter.
“What we’ve got now will be fine,” Didi said. “In the meantime, everybody, please enjoy this place without making waves. They have rules. Best learn them early and follow them always. Unlike me, they do execute people here, so mind your manners.”
The people looked only partially amused. Others looked unnerved.
“It’s really a good place,” Heather found herself saying, which caught everyone by surprise, herself included. “Between the mayor and the President, a lot of culture and technology have been preserved to make our stay as productive and enhancing as possible, which will make our transition to the surface smoother once the reanimate problem is eliminated. They managed to fit a few franchise restaurants in here and the livestock to supply them. The McDonald’s even has a play place for the kids.”
A few of the youngsters brightened up at that, which made Heather feel like she was getting somewhere.
“Thanks, Doc,” the Death Doll said with a tight grin before she turned back to her people. “Anyway, processing is that way,” she pointed at the proper hall, even if her aim wasn’t precise. “Take it with a grain of salt and don’t beat up your guards,” she added with a smirk at Rachelle, who flinched with mock offense.
Heather watched them break up with a sense of hope, even if it was infinitesimal. Still, she couldn’t help smiling at all the children who had been reunited with their parents and guardians. It was a good thing they hadn’t yet been processed, lest any resident guardians lodge complaints like the ones who were given that new Marine’s—
“You good?” surprised a gasp out of Heather as Cody suddenly appeared next to her, propped up against his Death Doll.
When Heather caught her breath, she forced a smile. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m as ready as I’m going to be.”
He nodded. “Well, I won’t lie and say it’ll be a safe journey, but once we get there it should be simple enough. Didi can bring you a TERAN before she … well, does what she does.”
The reanimate threw her an oddly cute grin, which was as puzzling as it was unnerving. How well this … person hid her rot from the world was quite incredible.
All Heather could do was say, “I’d better get my equipment,” before heading to her quarters.
“Meet you upstairs, Doc,” the … Didi said, which stopped Heather in her much-needed tracks. “Last one there’s a rotten corpse.”
Cody scoffed. “Seriously?”
Heather faced the two just as Didi poked Cody’s ribs, to which he let out an exaggerated cry of pain that left them both laughing like …
… like we used to, Heather thought sadly.
Then Cody smiled at her again. “Don’t mind her. Humor’s her strongest coping mechanism, next to altruism.”
“Aw, th
at’s so sweet,” Didi said in a cutesy voice while squeezing the man’s lips together with her gloved hand, which he batted away with a charmed laugh.
Heather walked away before she could endure another second of that display. She was not looking forward to this trip.
*****
Cynthia didn’t like many of the people in this camp that headed for the processing hall, but she did not envy any of them after hearing Rachelle bitch about what they were about to endure. She didn’t need a damn grade-level assessment, and she would never let anyone “parent” her again.
As for these people? Sucked to be them.
She was about to follow Didi back to the surface, once she and Cody were done trying to make that doctor lady throw up, when someone said her name. In all the mumbling, she couldn’t tell who it was. She didn’t quite believe she would like the answer, but part of being rolled into this camp meant having to play nice, so she turned.
And regretted it. “Don’t bother threatening me again,” she insisted. “I’m not going to mess with you or your kid, unless you piss me off.”
“Good to know,” Clarissa said with a frown on her resting bitch face. The baby stared like she didn’t know what. Mommy seemed to think that was cute. “It’s amazing what a babies do to you. They rip their way out of your body, yet keep their hands firmly entrenched in your heart.”
Cynthia’s eyes narrowed. “Good to know.”
“You don’t think your parents felt that way?” Miss America dared to ask with a stupid grin.
Cynthia looked away, trying not to let the hurt show. “No.”
“What happened to them?”
“Are you trying to make friends with me or something?”
Miss America shrugged. “Maybe just make nice. I kind of have to. You’re still a minor, so you’re going to have to go to school, which could make me one of your teachers, depending on how all this goes.”
Cynthia almost laughed in the pageant monger’s face. “You do know I’m not staying.”
“I may have only known you for four days, but I have a strong feeling you’ll be back. And, then, you’re mine.”
Cynthia rolled her eyes. Why did I have to open up to that fucking zombie?
“I mean, you could go with Paula when she gets out of recovery,” she said casually—or threateningly—which, either way, was a hard pass. “Or you could go with Jerri,” she said while pointing out the soccer mom trying to keep two of her triplets from falling out her arms while Mister Flannel lugged her third. “She’s nice, and I love her to death, but she’s got way too much on her plate. Besides, you were with the ones who killed her husband.”
Cynthia wasn’t ready to scale that wall yet. With no other options, she gave in as much as she was willing. “Try not to slap me anymore and maybe you’ll do.”
Miss America smirked as she turned to follow the crowd. “See you in class soon.”
Cynthia held a little smile for show.
“Oh, and,” the pageant monger faced her with another wry grin, “the name’s Miss Groenig, or Clarissa. It’s not Miss America,” she pointedly instructed, which caught Cynthia by surprise. “I haven’t earned that title … yet.”
Cynthia allowed herself a little laugh as she watched Miss—Clarissa—walk away, marveling at the brains she didn’t think the beauty queen had.
****
Jerri thanked the soldier and stepped up to the recovery room, amazed at the medical facilities in this wing. With the exception of rectangular light panels for windows, it all looked like a regular hospital: bright yet sterile, functional yet crowded. Its familiar mediocrity must’ve brought the staff some comfort; maybe even the patients, too.
She quietly slipped in and found two sleeping patients, but only one with a devoted spouse sleeping in a nearby seat. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she kept her breathing quiet, unsure of whether or not to wake either of the sleepers.
Then those eyes fluttered open and found her, and she knew she was trapped.
“Hi,” Paula barely said with a weak but pleased smile.
“Hi back,” Jerri whispered as she closed in. “How are you feeling?”
The drowsy brunette grinned like she was trying to form a funny response.
“You don’t have to talk. I just wanted to … see how you were,” Jerri lied, then silently chided herself for being such a coward. She leaned on the bed railing and sighed. “Actually, I came to apologize.”
Despite looking half asleep, Paula frowned.
“I was … angry and confused. I miss him so much, and I know you didn’t mean for …” Jerri admitted as a tear stung in her eye, threatening to break loose. She wiped it away before that could happen. “Well, I know it’s not your fault. I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”
That ovoid head weakly shook. “I shouldn’t have forgotten about it. I helped … clean the …” She was fading.
Jerri held the woman’s hand and smiled. “You rest. I’ll see you when I can. And … thank you … for saving my baby’s life.”
She wasn’t sure if Paula heard her or if the troubled woman had passed out, but it didn’t matter. She did what she came to do, and she would have no problem doing it again. She owed Paula that much.
EPILOGUE
Cody, Bob, and Isaac said “check” so many times doing their radio checks, Didi couldn’t help busting in with her cell phone. “Cash only.”
She enjoyed the laughter piped through the citizen band and her new built-in headset, and she certainly loved how the new versatility of her communications equipment.
“Let’s stick with the phones,” Cody said into the truck’s handset. “Nick can’t mask the C.B.”
“Then why we got it?” Isaac asked.
“They came with the trucks. Besides, there’s always the chance someone in need out there is using it.”
“We are kind of on a schedule,” Craig reminded them.
“He’s got you there,” Didi quipped, which drew a fake glare from Cody.
“Any good words for us, Didi?” Rachelle asked from Isaac’s truck.
She couldn’t help but smile, then piped into the C.B. again. “Many stray from God, but He never forgets us. Every pocket of life left on Earth proves it to me. Now, someone’s threatening it. We few may not seem like much against the forces we’re about to encounter, but I’d like to think we’re better than a nuclear missile.”
Cody grinned humorously.
“Still, Lord,” she concluded, “may we not hurt nearly as much of Your world—and let it not hurt us—in our journey.”
One-by-one, each of her people in all three trucks cut in with an, “Amen.”
All, of course, except for Doctor Cutie Pie in the backseat, who was typing away on a little laptop as if she was Nick, who was probably busy ignoring Bob and Craig on his own computer in the back of their truck while establishing the satellite cloak that would disguise their trek across the country.
“How come we’re not taking Moses again?” Rachelle asked.
“Because we’d like to have him for the rest of our trip to California,” Cody replied into the handset, which made Didi smile.
The doctor looked up from her computer at Cody disappointedly. “You’re not staying?”
He grinned at her in the rearview and shook his head. “I want to go home. As soon as we’re done with this mission, I’m going to ask for a discharge.”
Doctor Perfect looked appalled, then that shocked glare faced Didi. “Is this your doing?”
Didi glared over her shoulder. “He’s a big boy. He can make his own decisions.”
“Does that mean you’re staying?”
“Are you kidding? What the hell would I do there but endanger everyone? Besides,” Didi added as she faced forward, “Moses was never meant to live in the Promised Land.”
Doctor Sitton shook her head in disbelief and dove back into her computer. Cody grinned at Didi, but she could see the hint of sadness hiding behind the gratitude in his eyes.
<
br /> “Anybody else got a problem with luggin’ all these gas cans?” Isaac cut in again, referring to the olive colored five-gallon jugs filling all three truck beds.
“They’re all strapped down,” Didi said. “What more do you want?”
He didn’t answer. He was probably cussing under his breath—or at his teenage passengers—about why he volunteered for this. She knew why, though: he was a passionate man with a desire to make a real difference in the world. She could relate.
“We can hit every gas station along the way, if it’ll make you feel better,” Bob added, probably just to tease the big man. Good thing he had his own truck.
“Alright, ladies and weenies,” Didi cut in, “if we’re ready to roll, Hell awaits.”
There were a few chuckles, but they were faint.
“Hey, I just thought of something,” Rachelle broke in. “Wouldn’t the President—the dead one—be using the same satellites and what not that NORAD is?”
“The Prez hasn’t ruled it out,” Didi replied, “but since Nick already proved he can mask our approach into NORAD, I’m inclined to trust he can do it for us all the way to D.C., too.”
“I, for one, wouldn’t miss D.C. if we just blew it up,” Nick added more clearly than the rest, probably through his laptop.
“Some of us would like to have our country back,” Cynthia piped in heatedly. Didi was surprised she didn’t hear a slur. She smiled at this hint of progress.
“We protect all life as best we can,” Cody replied into his handset. “I’d like that to include as much of the earth that sustains us as we can spare.”
“Does that mean I can’t kill any more trees after all this is over?” Craig joked, alluding to his former work with lumber, which got a few laughs.
“Then I wouldn’t have anything to whittle anymore,” Rachelle added.
“My present says otherwise,” Didi said, which reminded her of what she was both glad and surprised to still have after losing her mind twice.
Exodus Page 33
