“Well damn.” Zion crossed his arms and smirked at his companion. “Looks like they beat our record.”
Calvin clenched a fist in front of his face. “We’ll get ‘em next time.”
“Was there anything else?” Zion asked. “We were about to head out to Wendy’s.”
“I’ve already taken the liberty of letting her know you’re going to be running a bit late due to the mob,” Cheryl assured him.
He nodded. “They hittin’ the crossroads, I take it?” he asked.
“They’re approaching the front edge of the crossing now,” Cheryl informed him, checking her clipboard.
“The crossroads?” Missy asked, the students having clustered behind them to listen.
“Where our roads meet the interstate,” Cheryl explained. “It’s only a few miles down, so we pull everybody back from it to make sure it’s as quiet as possible.”
Calvin grinned. “Those critters are like lemmings,” he added. “You get one of them going one way, and the rest of them follow.”
“Oh okay,” Missy said, nodding. “I get it. Thank you.”
“How long until we can hit the back road?” Zion asked.
Cheryl held up a finger. “Give them one hour and you should be good.”
“Well,” Zion said with a sigh, “since we have all this time on our hands, Calvin maybe you can take Tori out for some breakfast.”
His companion raised an eyebrow. “But we already…” He stopped at Zion’s wide-eyed stare, and then continued, “...Told them we didn’t have time today. So Tori, we might have to wait a few minutes for them to make us something fresh,” he stumbled over his words nervously. “I mean. Um. Assuming you’re free and all.”
She pushed her glasses up her nose and seemed amused by his nervousness. “I would like that.”
Calvin’s face lit up as she joined him.
“Just be down here in forty-five so we can get prepped,” Zion reminded him as they sauntered off together.
Calvin didn’t even break stride, giving a thumbs up over his shoulder as they left.
Zion shook his head and chuckled under his breath. “I swear, that boy wouldn’t get anywhere if he didn’t have a wingman like me.” There was a smattering of chuckles and he turned to the remaining trio of students. “So, what other sorts of crazy zombie-killing gadgets you guys come up with?”
Harold rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Come on, let us show you our idea book.”
CHAPTER THREE
Zion sat in his truck, loaded up and ready to go. He glanced in the side mirror, watching one of the guards fill up the tank with a gas can before setting the half-full can in the back. After a few moments, the passenger door opened and Calvin slid into the seat.
“There’s the playboy!” Zion declared with a grin. “How’d your breakfast date go?”
His companion simply threw him a smirk.
“Just remember that Christmas isn’t too far away, and your wingman likes weaponry,” Zion said.
Calvin winked at him. “Tori and I will whip you up something nice, then.”
“Well, buckle up so we can get on the road,” his friend replied with a laugh. “Gotta get you back quick so your girl doesn’t yell at me for keeping you out so late.”
Calvin chuckled as the truck roared to life, and Zion peeled out of the parking garage, heading out down the driveway and towards the interstate.
“So, you gonna give me some details?” Zion pressed.
His friend blushed and shook his head, pulling out a joint from his pocket. “Not much to tell, man,” he admitted, and sparked it up. “We just sat in one of the garden areas and drank coffee. Honestly, spent a lot of time just sitting quietly and enjoying the peacefulness.”
“Uh oh,” Zion said.
Calvin blinked at him, choking on his inhale. “What do you mean, uh oh?” he asked through a fit of coughing. “I really enjoyed myself.”
“I don’t know, man,” his friend replied, drawing out his words. “You sure she was having a good time too? My sister has told me some horror stories about guys who couldn’t hold a conversation.”
Calvin’s eyes were wide as saucers. “I mean, she put her head on my shoulder while we were sitting there,” he said. “I’d say that was a good sign, wouldn’t you?”
Zion burst out laughing and smacked his friend on the arm. “Man, look at you giving me the ole okey-doke,” he teased. “You know exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”
“Gotcha!” Calvin replied with a grin and took a smaller puff from his joint.
“Well, I’m happy for you, man,” Zion said. “Glad you got you a little romance brewing there.”
His companion let out a happy sigh on the exhale. “Me too,” he said wistfully. “I know this is gonna come as a shock, but even when times were good, I was never much of a ladies’ man.”
“No!” Zion gasped dramatically. “You don’t say?!”
Calvin rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. “Shocking, I know.”
“Well, make sure you treat her right,” his friend instructed, “because it’s not like you can avoid her.”
Calvin chuckled and shook his head. “No shit, right?”
When they reached a mile within the interstate, there were half a dozen men standing in the road, and Zion sobered as one of them flagged him down. He pulled up and unrolled the window.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“That mob of dead fuckers are still shambling by,” the guard replied, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
Calvin leaned over. “What did they do?” he asked. “Stop and have a picnic? They should have passed by now.”
The guard shrugged. “It’s been moving steady for a while now,” he said. “So either those boys can’t count, or they picked up another group along the way.”
“Either way, it’s good that they’re getting so many of these things outta here,” Zion said with a sigh. “Less we gotta deal with, right?”
The guard nodded stoically. “Yes sir, mister Zion.”
“So, any idea how much longer we need to camp out here?” he asked. “Because we got stuff to do.”
The guard pulled out his walkie talkie, holding up a hand. “Hang on, let me check.” He lifted the radio to his lips. “Hey bubba, you copy?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m here, what’s up?” Bubba came back.
The guard raised a hand over his eyes, peering towards the interstate. “How’s the tail end of this thing looking?”
“Last of them passed by the exit about five minutes ago,” Bubba replied.
The guard nodded. “All right, you keep sitting tight till I tell you otherwise,” he instructed.
“Ten-four,” Bubba replied, and the line clicked off.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Zion asked.
The guard lifted a hand and tilted it back and forth. “He’s a ways down south, so you’re probably looking at another hour or two before the last of the stragglers come through,” he replied.
“Wonder if Tori is free for lunch?” Calvin joked.
The guard pursed his lips and cocked his head. “If you don’t mind a bumpy ride, I got an alternative for you.”
“I’m listening,” Zion replied, leaning out the window.
The guard pointed past him. “Go back up the road about half a mile until you see a dirt clearing in the trees,” he said. “It looks like at one time they were trying to put in a mountain bike path for all those healthy fuckers that could afford to live in these parts. They didn’t get much past the clearing stage, however.”
“Is it drivable?” Zion asked.
The guard shrugged. “As long as you got four wheel drive, you’re good. Anything else and you’re going to get stuck.” he replied.
Zion patted the steering wheel. “Covered.”
“It's gonna wind around a bit in spots,” the guard admitted, “but if you keep going, you’ll hit a road just after a few miles. Just hang a left and you’ll hit the interstate.”
“Anytime, mister Zion,” the guard replied, returning the smile and bumping his fist with his own. “You two be safe out there.”
Zion nodded and rolled up the window, executing a quick three-point turn and heading back up the road.
“Here’s hoping we got the bad out of the way today,” Calvin said with a sigh as he stubbed out the end of his joint.
His friend shook his head. “Don’t go jinxing us now,” he said, and they shared a chuckle.
Zion slowed to a crawl as they looked for the trail entrance. After a few moments, Calvin pointed to an opening in the trees.
“That’s gotta be it,” he said.
Zion turned onto it, stopping at the entrance. Before them stretched a bumpy dirt path that was barely wider than the truck.
“Buckle up,” he said, “this ain’t gonna be fun.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Zion and Calvin pulled up to the camp less than a mile from the bridge over the river. As they approached the neighborhood, there were a few groups of armed guards about, both men and women, patrolling the streets on foot. They waved at the vehicle as it rolled up towards the entrance.
“Man, they’re really expanding down here,” Calvin said as he waved back to the guards.
Zion nodded. “Talked to Monique last night for a bit, and she said they’ve taken over another two blocks since we were last here,” he said.
“That’s a hell of an expansion,” Calvin mused in awe.
Zion shrugged as he pulled in. “Kind of necessary with the survivors they’ve been taking in,” he explained. “She said they found a family of ten yesterday and brought them in.”
“Let me guess,” his friend drawled, “they have a shopping list for us?”
Zion cocked his head. “She didn’t say, she just said come down,” he said, and drove through the eight foot tall iron gate across the center of the road.
One of the door guards leaned in. “Wendy and Monique are waiting for you at the house on the corner,” he said, waving them through and then helping to close the giant gate.
Zion nodded and drove on, parking the truck outside a large two-story brick house. As he killed the engine and they got out of the car, Wendy and Monique emerged from the house.
“You’re late, little brother,” his sister quipped.
Zion shook his head. “Cheryl said she let you know we were running behind,” he said.
“You’re nearly half an hour late outside of that,” Wendy added, crossing her arms.
“We had to off-road it a bit to get around the interstate horde,” Calvin explained. “Feels like I’m still bumping up and down even though I’m not moving.” He shook out his arms a bit.
“So what you got for us?” Zion asked.
Wendy turned towards the door and waved for them to follow. “Why don’t you come inside?” she asked. “We got some people we’d like you to meet.”
The duo headed up the porch steps, and Monique and Zion embraced before they headed into the house. There was a Latino family sitting in the main foyer, looking like they were several generations of people ranging from four to eighty-four years old. A couple of the children were playing together in the corner under the watchful eye of a grandmother, while several adults sat around a table in the center playing a card game.
“Wow,” Calvin said, blinking at the guests. “Where in the world did you find them at?”
“At their restaurant about ten miles south of here,” Wendy replied. She waved at one of the men, who looked to be in his mid-twenties. “Mateo, can you come over here, please?” she asked.
He got up from the table. He was physically fit, but no body builder, with dark hair and determined eyes. He extended his hand to Zion and Calvin in turn with a warm smile.
“Hello gentlemen,” he said with a slight accent, but a confident tone that said he’d been speaking English his entire life. “I am Mateo.”
Zion nodded as they shook. “I’m Zion, and this is my friend Calvin.”
“Tell them what you told us,” Wendy prompted.
“Okay,” he began, taking a deep breath. “My family, we have had this restaurant for years, and we got all of our supplies from a, um, family friend. He really wanted to help out people like him, so he would only sell to people he knew. Because of this, his place of business wasn’t listed. No signs, no nothing.”
“When you say supplies, you mean…” Calvin prompted.
“Food,” Mateo replied with a nod. “Dried beans, masa flour, other staples with a long shelf life.”
Zion cocked his head. “Where is this place?”
“About ten miles south of here,” Mateo replied.
Calvin nodded. “Could be worth checking out,” he said, and grinned at the corner inhabitants. “Especially with some old school grandma cooks.”
“That’s why we called you,” Wendy piped up. “We could send some of ours from here, but they’re worn out from clearing the block over the past few days.”
Monique winked at her brother. “And we know how much you love bashing in skulls,” she said. “What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t look out for my kid brother?”
Zion chuckled. “Thanks, sis.”
“So you’ll go?” Mateo asked, hope in his eyes.
“Yeah, we’ll go check it out,” Zion replied.
Their new acquaintance clapped his hands. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “Let me get my things and I will join you.”
“Slow down, bud,” Zion said, putting up a hand. “Calvin and I can handle this. Just tell us where to go.”
Mateo’s brow furrowed. “You can use my help,” he insisted, “and my guidance to the warehouse.”
“Can you fight?” Calvin asked.
“Look around this room,” Mateo said, and spread his arms. “Do you see anybody that looks capable of handling themselves against the dead? Other than myself?”
The duo scanned the room, scrutinizing the rest of the family, not seeing anyone they would really want to put out in battle.
“Guess not,” Zion admitted.
“I am the reason my family is alive,” Mateo declared. “And I would like to be a part of the reason the people who took us in make it through the winter.”
Calvin held up his palms in surrender. “I have one very important question for you, buddy,” he said.
“Yes?” Mateo cocked his head.
“If we get this stuff,” Calvin began, taking a deep breath, “can someone here make me some tamales? I’ve had a craving for weeks.” He patted his belly.
The group chuckled, and Mateo grinned.
“I guarantee it will be the best you ever have,” he assured him.
Calvin nodded. “All right, I’m sold.”
Zion chuckled. “Go on, get your stuff and meet us outside.”
Mateo nodded and ran off, and Monique took Zion’s arm, pulling him out onto the porch. He looked around the street, seeing dozens of people milling about in the open, looking casual, happy even.
“Amazing the difference a few weeks makes, huh?” she asked.
Zion nodded, but took a deep breath. “Those things coming over the bridge still concern me, but I think you’re in a great spot here, sis.”
“We wouldn’t be anywhere close to this built up if it wasn’t for what you’re doing, little brother,” she said, running a hand over the back of his neck.
He wrinkled his nose. “Really wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he muttered.
“Baby brother it is, then,” Monique teased.
He put up a hand. “Little brother is fine,” he said.
She chuckled. “So are things going well at the complex?” she asked.
“Everybody seems to be happy,” Zion said. “And we got those college kids ramping up our defenses.”
She smiled. “Well, tell them once they get you squared away, we wouldn’t mind borrowing them for a bit.”
“I think that c
an be arranged,” Zion replied with a nod.
Calvin, Wendy, and Mateo emerged from the house, the latter wearing a makeshift holster with two blades dangling on either side.
Zion raised an eyebrow. “Those are your weapons?” he asked.
Mateo pulled out one of the glittering blades, at least a foot long with a slight curve. “Butcher quality, cuts through bone like butter,” he declared. “Especially those of the dead that have begun to rot.”
“If it works for you, I’m all for it,” Zion replied with a nod. “Let’s load up.” He gave Monique’s shoulder a squeeze and led his men to the truck. He opened the door and let Mateo clamber in to the middle seat.
“If you want to clear it out and do a brief inventory,” Wendy said from the steps, “I can send some of my guys down tomorrow to finish clearing it out.”
Zion nodded. “We’ll also load up what we can and bring it back,” he assured her.
“Appreciate your help,” she replied.
He gave her a little salute. “It’s what I do.” He threw his sister a smile who beamed back at him with pride.
CHAPTER FIVE
The trio drove to a rundown neighborhood. There were bars on the windows, overgrown grass, and broken-down cars in the driveways. As they crawled along the street, there were a few zombies around the houses that shambled out from the side yards, attracted to the engine noise.
“It’s about three more blocks up to the right,” Mateo instructed. “Just a regular brick building.”
Zion nodded. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find.” He coasted up the road, a few zombies reaching the asphalt and beginning to tail them. When they passed a few more intersections, Mateo pointed to a building at the end of the block.
“That’s it!” he exclaimed.
There were a few dozen zombies around the building, a few pawing at the front door lazily like a kitten against a fish tank.
“Looks like someone was alive in there at one time,” Zion mused.
Mateo pursed his lips. “Could be the owner and his family,” he said.
“So how do you want to play this?” Calvin asked, rubbing his hands together.
Zion glanced in the rearview mirror and watched the dozen or so zombies spread out and lumbering after them, though still about fifty yards away. “Mateo and I will clear out the zombies in front,” he said. “Anything behind us gets to that last intersection, you put it down.”
Dead America-The Northwest Invasion Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 2
