Man Eaters (Book 2): The Horde
Page 19
“What Benjamin meant to say,” a young woman named Angela said, “is that it will be more orderly if we give him our questions instead of all of us bothering you with every petty question. No one is questioning your leadership abilities, Dallas, nor are we trying to be divisive. Benjamin truly was chosen just as a spokesperson.” She practically glowered at Benjamin.
A number of the new ZBs nodded in agreement with her.
“Thank you for clearing that up, Angela. Now is not the time to be butting heads. If we don’t work together, then surely we will die together. So, does your group have any questions, Benjamin?”
He hesitated a moment. The air was thick with tension. “We want to know if the division of labor is gonna be equitable, you know? We don’t want all the shit jobs. We have just as many skills as you guys do. We don’t want to be—”
“Everyone will have to do shit jobs at one time or another. The important thing is for us to know what jobs everyone did in the past and can do now. You have my word it will be equitable. Anything else?”
Benjamin looked at his group before asking, “When we get settled, I think you ought to consider creating a committee.”
Tilting her head, Dallas replied, “A committee?”
“Yeah. You know. To help make decisions. To carry out—”
“Oh hell no,” Roper said, shaking her head. “You did not just say that shit. Committee? That’s bullshit. What did she just say about a pissing contest? The committee, jackass, is those of us who are doing our damnedest to keep the rest of you safe. That is the only committee you need to worry about. Capisce?”
“I see.” Benjamin turned to the ZBs for support. None came.
Dallas held her hands up to keep the murmuring down. “Look people, we’ll have that conversation when the boat gets here and we get into some kind of routine. Until then, we’re burning daylight. Ferdie, would you show them to their quarters? Everyone find a bunk, grab a bed, but do not leave Camp F. If you leave, consider yourself on your own because we can’t risk letting any eaters in here. Keep your weapons at the ready, and get Camp F ready to roll. Six of you stay back for fence repair. We’ve got a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it. I want everyone inside before dusk. If you are not in by then, you’ll have to find some place else to sleep for the night.”
When the group split up, Fletcher walked by Dallas and whispered, “Talk to Hunter,” before stepping back into the group of six.
Dallas made a mental note to do so before announcing, “Okay, we’ve got ten thousand acres to cover and less than 6 hours of daylight to do it. Questions?”
Henry piped up, “I seen some vehicles when we first drove in. Me and Kevin can give ‘em a once over and see if’n we can’t get two goin’. That’ll make fence checkin’ faster and easier.”
Dallas nodded. “Take two to watch your back while you examine them. Remember everyone, expect a zombie at every turn. Always think they are right around the corner. Remember that head shots are necessary and if you do have to fire your weapon, the sound will probably bring more, so stay on your toes.”
Henry nodded and saluted. “Yes, ma’am.” Before he turned to leave, he whispered to Dallas, “As for that spokes guy? Don’t bother worryin’ about him now. He gets outta line, Otis or Kev will have a man-to-man chat with him.”
Dallas offered him a slight grin. “Thank you, Henry, but hopefully, that won’t be necessary.”
As everyone loaded into the Fuchs, Hunter held back. “I overheard Benjamin actually rallying to be the spokesperson. It’s not like someone said, ‘Hey, we need representation’. This is something he sorta pushed through Congress.”
Dallas nodded. “I did expect some resistance. Not many men will follow a woman into battle. I just didn’t expect a push back so soon.”
Hunter shook his head. “Don’t you worry. Even without your boatload of people, you’ve got a core of both CGIs and ZBs who will make sure your leadership isn’t tested. You can count me and my dad among them.”
“Thank you, Hunter. That means a lot.”
“Dad’ll keep his ear to the ground for you. So will I.” With that, Hunter hopped into the Fuchs, leaving Dallas and Roper standing by the driver’s side door.
“Before you get all flared up,” Dallas started, “This is going to happen more than once. You can’t go all postal every time someone challenges me or us.”
“Sure I can.”
Dallas laid her palm on Roper’s cheek. “No, my love, you can’t. People are allowed to disagree, to ask questions, to challenge. We can’t get defensive every time someone does.”
“You can’t, but I can. That’s my job. Don’t tell me not to get all puffed up whenever some asshole thinks he can lead better than you. Uh uh. I’m a honey badger, babe, and Benjamin’s antic was bullshit. This honey badger doesn’t give a shit about him and his ego.”
Dallas lightly caressed Roper’s cheek. “My honey badger needs to remember that it’s going to take a while for people to recognize the new order to things. Don’t expect them to change overnight and don’t expect everyone to be as liberal-minded as Californians. The gays being our only real hope isn’t something everyone is going to dance a jig to.”
Roper kissed Dallas’s palm before growling playfully, “Maybe not overnight, baby, but soon. Real soon. They better be quick learners of the two-step or heads will roll.”
“The two-step, really?”
Roper laughed. “It’s the only dance I know.”
****
Much to Dallas’s surprise, the outer fences were still strong and intact, with very little repair required. They’d been in the Fuchs thirty minutes when a Range Rover pulled up next to them with Henry and Kevin inside.
“Yo, Dallas. Got ‘er up and runnin’.”
Dallas stared at the car and grinned. “Nice work.”
“We took it for a spin and ran into a family down the way who says there was some kinda explosion off the coast a ways last night.”
Roper and Dallas exchanged worried glances. “What kind of explosion?”
“They heard from some folks that one of them boats blew up.”
Dallas reached for Roper’s hand. “Be more specific.”
“That’s all they said. A boat blew up.”
“A boat or a destroyer?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. Just said it blew.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“You don’t think—” Roper started, but Dallas cut her off.
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Until we hear otherwise, everyone on The Survivor is fine and healthy.”
Roper cussed under her breath and walked away.
“Sorry, Dallas. I didn’t mean to make her mad.”
“She’s not mad. She just worries. So, what do you have?”
Henry licked his chapped lips. “We’ll do a recon around the fence. Then we’ll start on the opposite side,” Henry said from behind the wheel. “We got eaters butting up against the fence line we need to take care of first.” He spat. “Dumbass sumbitches just keep tryin’ to walk through the fence.”
“Just mark the area needing repairs with this blue tape.” Dallas tossed him the roll she’d picked up earlier. “And we’ll fix it when we reach it.” Dallas had Ferdie go with them as arterial support.
The next hour was spent repairing a small gap in the fence and killing off four undead caught in a roll of rusty razor wire laying on the ground. The zombies, incapable of freeing themselves and not understanding the nature of the razor wire, had exposed bones, strips of hanging flesh, and large gashes on their bodies. One had only a bra and boots on, while another, wearing some sort of tattered jeans, was missing his left arm.
“How long do you suppose they’ve been there?” Zoe asked. Her pink Mohawk waved in the slight breeze.
“By the looks of their clothes, quite a while. Based on the gap we just closed and their position, it looks like a small horde was chasing someone.”
“I have a feeling,” Churchill said from the back, “that we’re going to face a pretty large horde in the main building.”
“We probably will, but once we clean out this area, we’ll have a good sized piece of real estate to call home.”
They worked non-stop for a few more hours until they met back up with Henry and Kevin.
“Okay, fellas,” Dallas said. “I have another job for you. This fence was not built to sustain the kind of pressure hordes will put on it. Its greatest weakness is collapsing in on us. I want it reinforced with whatever poles, wood stakes, or beams you find on the property. Use anything you can to shore up the fence in the event a mob presses into it. I’ll give you Churchill and three of the ZBs. Meet us back at the crow’s nest in—” Dallas checked her watch, “three hours.”
“You think more mobs will be coming through here?” Someone asked.
Dallas nodded. “You can count on it.”
****
Three hours later, dirty, dusty, hot, and tired, the group met at the crow’s nest, where Otis excitedly told them he had spotted the boat. The weight that lifted off Dallas’ shoulders was tremendous, and Roper squeezed her shoulder in anticipation of reuniting with the others.
“Excellent. Thank god. I was beginning to think I’d made a huge mistake.”
“Ma’am, if it’s all the same to you, I think I oughta’ stay up here until dusk. I can see for a long way from up here and can sound an alarm if’n I see a horde.”
“We’ll find you an alarm tomorrow, Otis. For now, stay until dusk, but be careful coming down.”
He saluted. “You got it.”
Dallas gave Roper the task of meeting the boat so she could return to Camp F to make sure everything was progressing at a quick pace. Dusk would be there soon enough and there was still so much to do to secure everyone’s safety.
“You take all the CGIs,” Dallas told Roper, “since we don’t know the status of the shoreline. Empty the boat out entirely in one run. I don’t want anyone going back and forth. It’s far too dangerous. Whatever you leave there stays there until we can get back to it.”
“Want me to take the bus?”
“No. Cram the supplies into the Beast and have everyone walk back. We’ll have the machine gun manned for protection, but I’d rather they not be trapped in the bus.”
“Roger that.” Giving Dallas a quick peck, Roper put Zoe in the co-pilot seat and Churchill on the turret.
“Hurry home,” Dallas said softly.
Roper smiled. “Home. I like that.”
****
Butcher lowered her binoculars and grinned widely, feeling the unfamiliar warmth of hope wash over her. “They made it.”
“You sound relieved.”
Butcher held the binoculars out to Einstein and laid her hand on her belly. She was surprised by how often she did this lately now that the secret was out. There was something comforting about knowing the baby was there.
She pointed. “See the Fuchs coming down to the bank? That’s either our people or someone coming to steal our shit.”
Einstein’s smile matched Butcher’s and he surprised both of them by squeezing her hand. “Oh hell yeah. They just traveled through a minefield. We should have known not to worry. Dallas rocks.”
“Yes she does.”
Einstein looked at her. “You know, for the longest time I thought you were in love with her.”
Butcher looked away. “Who, Dallas? You know I’m not gay.”
Einstein shrugged. “Doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love with someone of the same gender.”
Butcher turned back to him. “Why in the hell would you think that about me?”
“Because there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for her. Because I see how you look at her. It’s more than admiration. It’s love, Butcher. Real, bona fide love.”
Butcher playfully pushed him away. “You don’t know.”
“I know you’d die for her.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
Einstein nodded. “In a heartbeat. She’s the reason for the season. We’d all be dead without her.”
“And without you, kid. Those first days, without you, we’d all be dead. See, you ask if I’d die for her, I would…but I’d die for you as well…and trust me…I am not in love with you.”
When Roper spilled out of the Fuchs, Butcher and Einstein raised their clasped hands and hooted and hollered. The entire ship broke into yelling and clapping, and Luke hit the ship’s horn three times before remembering the sound could alert nearby zombies.
“Nice boat,” Zoe said, standing next to Roper. “Helluva nice boat, really.”
“Not nearly as nice as the people on it. Ferdie, you and Hunter make sure the dock is free of any eaters. Zoe, you and Jamie find a plank of some sort long enough to reach them. Churchill, you cover everyone with a sniper rifle. Expect them to come out of the river just like they did from the bayou.”
When everyone took off, Roper ran to the very edge, waving to Butcher and Einstein. “Miss us?” Butcher yelled.
“Like you read about!” Roper said, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Look, Dallas wants everything off in one trip, so have everyone grab as much as they can carry. You can put most of it in the Fuchs and on top, but no one is to return to the ship.”
Butcher nodded and began barking orders to her people as Luke tried to maneuver the boat closer to the shore. As he did, the engine grinded for a moment just as blood and hair floated to the surface.
Just as Roper had thought, there were zombies along the river’s edge, and apparently, some had gotten too close to the propeller.
With the plank in place, and three water-logged zombies shot before they could reach the pier, everyone was ready to make a mad dash down the plank and to the Beast.
“Zoe, you help organize the supplies going in the Fuchs. Everyone will have to walk back to Camp F so we can get everything off the boat and into the Beast.”
Suddenly, several shots from the turret rang out and everyone who had a gun or long-range weapon pivoted in the direction of the gunfire.
“Eaters! Eleven o’clock!” Churchill cried, pointing to the fourteen undead struggling to climb out of the water and up the bank. Churchill shot six times and took out three of them. Roper laid waste to the fourth, a woman who had clearly been in the water too long. Her face was bloated and partially eaten by something inhabiting the water. She had only one eye left.
“Everyone else, keep moving! Just get the supplies and have them ready to be offloaded! We’ll take care of the eaters.”
Hunter shot four more, and ten seconds later, the rest were taken out as well, but it was clear this wasn’t going to be an easy journey back to the prison gates as more and more man eaters made their way out of the water.
“Hunter?”
“On it.” Soon, Hunter was sending arrows into the heads of those zombies coming up the other bank. While there weren’t enough to alarm Roper yet, it was evident by the remnants of their jumpsuits that they were inmates who had become infected and followed something or someone into the river where they remained until new prey came into view.
“Stay on the boat until we clear the area.”
It took less than ten minutes to clear the area, but occasionally, one or two zombie heads would emerge from the water, and Churchill or Hunter would put them down.
When the last of the ammo and bags of smoked alligator were loaded on top of the Fuchs, Butcher ran down the plank and threw her arms around Roper, followed by Einstein, who threw his around them both and hugged them tightly.
“Goddamn, it’s good to see you,” Butcher said, pulling back to search Roper’s eyes for answers to her as-of-yet unasked questions. They’d been together long enough to not need words about Dallas.
“She’s fine.” Roper answered, knowingly. “Just ba
ck at camp getting things ready for your arrival. You know, being Miss Bossy Cakes.”
“You made it unharmed? Any losses?”
Roper shook her head. “No losses, but Dallas was cut pretty badly on her forearm. Some bitch got her with a butcher knife.”
“Is she okay?”
“More pissed off than anything, but it bled a great deal. She’s not acting like it hurts, but I know she’s not feeling very well. Lost a lot of blood.”
“I’ll have a look at it first thing. We don’t want it getting infected.”
Roper looked at the overburdened Fuchs. “I don’t remember packing that much stuff.”
Einstein beamed. “Because you didn’t. We…um…made a pit stop along the way.”
“A pit stop? It wouldn’t have anything to do with a blown up boat we heard about, would it?”
Butcher pulled a face. “It’s a long story that only Luke can tell.”
“Uh oh.”
Butcher nodded. “Uh oh pretty much sums it up. He blew up a destroyer.”
Roper’s jaw dropped. “A what?”
Butcher shook her head in disgust. “Like I said—it’s Luke’s story to tell.”
“Good enough. You two ready to see our new home?”
“Is it as good as our old one?”
Roper nodded. “Better. Much better.”
****
While everyone was settling in to Camp F, oohing and aahing over being able to sleep on mattresses, and off the ground, Butcher tended to Dallas’s arm with Roper in attendance.
“Jesus, Dal, this is bad,” Butcher said after she unwrapped Dallas’s arm. The blood had caked on the gauze, requiring Butcher to soak it first before peeling it off.
Roper took one look at the cleaned out wound and saw the red skin around the jagged opening. “I think it’s infected.”
Butcher put her nose up to the wound and sniffed it. “It’s pretty bad,” Butcher said, examining it from side-to-side. “More than likely the knife was dirty and clearly, not sharp. We’re going to need antibiotics.”
“How bad? She’s not going to lose it, is she?” Roper’s voice held panic barely in check. “We don’t have any antibiotics here or at least not that I have found. If I can make my way to the medical facility, I can probably—”