Zombie Road IV: Road to Redemption

by David A. Simpson

  Jessie nodded and took another bite of some sort of sushi thing from the tray Marilyn had brought out. He’d rather have a cheeseburger. “It’s really nice,” he said. “You guys are way more advanced than us. We’ve managed to keep electricity and water, but the only computing power we have is a few laptops and our best doctor was a nursing student.”

  “I’d heard of your town of course,” Horowitz said, “we pick up your radio broadcasts, but we had no way of contacting you. I suppose we could start expanding our cell tower network but at the moment, there is no pressing need.”

  “We use Ham radios to communicate,” Jessie said and looked for something else that might actually taste good. “They can reach around the world.”

  Horowitz looked thoughtful. “Hmm. Old tech,” he said. “Yes, I can see where obsolete equipment could be useful. Unfortunately, we don’t have any antiques here. We’re all 21st century. Our 5G network is state of the art.”

  “We can help with that, it’s one of the reasons I’m here,” Jessie said and pulled out his notebook. “We’re rebuilding the country. This is a list of communities and their trade surplus. We have extra radios, too. We’d like to add you to the list for the trade routes if you have anything to sell or trade.”

  The CEO eyed it disdainfully before he picked up the beaten and tattered pad and flipped through it. “There is a list of things different outposts need in the back. Right now, no one is hurting too much, there is still plenty of scavenge available. What’s most in demand now is fresh food, eggs, things like that. We’re trying to plan ahead. Trying to start establishing farms and lumber yards and ranches and small factories because in a few years, all the free supplies that are just laying around are going to be gone. Nobody is making gas or shoes or 2x4s or paper anymore. It’s all going to run out eventually.”

  Horowitz nodded again and looked thoughtful. “There’s really nothing we need,” he said. “The Tower has a twenty-five-year life cycle and I’m sure we can push that much farther, considering the circumstances. We were much better prepared than anyone else, I believe. We’ll be fine on our own, we don’t need help and we have nothing extra to offer.”

  Jessie was a little taken aback. This was the first time he’d come across a community that had no interest in the outside world, only for themselves.

  “Lakota doesn’t need help either,” he said a little defensively, “but we send people out to help others. The president is trying to save lives. He has whole teams out destroying hordes of zombies, he’s trying to get men out to all of the dams to make sure they don’t bust and flood everything. He has truckers keeping the roads clear and delivering stuff to people that aren’t so fortunate. He’s trying to rebuild. That’s why I’m here, to offer our help or see if you can give us help.”

  Horowitz politely glanced at the list again and handed it back, shaking his head. “Anything we want, we can hire the local scavengers to get. We don’t want to enter into any trade alliances at the moment. We’re self-contained, we don’t need any of the things your country is offering. We can take care of ourselves.”

  Your country? Jessie got the feeling he was about to be dismissed and tried to appeal to the man's sense of honor. Or duty.

  “We could probably use some of your people to help us set up our systems,” he said. “We only have one guy who knows anything about computers. To be honest, we have mostly fighters and farmers, not many tech people survived the cities. We could use some their knowledge, especially your doctors.”

  Horowitz shook his head. “No, sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all. “My people aren’t leaving here. We need every one of them to keep this building operating at peak efficiency. Like you said, we’re techs, not warriors. No one is leaving to go live in some primitive community. I’ll allow you to send people here to be trained, but that’s the best I can do.” He stood and brushed a few crumbs from his trousers, nodded to the guard.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you.” he said, finished with the conversation. “Thank you for coming, but your new America doesn’t have anything to offer us. If you wish to send a trainee or two, we’ll determine what our payment will be if the occasion arises. Good day.”

  “You can’t help?” Jessie asked his retreating back. “You know, like Kennedy said, what can you do for your country, not what it can do for you?”

  Horowitz looked back over his shoulder as the glass doors slid open. “Thinking like that got him killed, didn’t it?” he asked then the guard was there, extending his hand for Jessie to get moving toward the elevator.

  He had been dismissed.

  He wasn’t welcome.

  He was being escorted off the property.

  He was pissed.

  Lakota had something the prim little bastard needed but screw him. Let him find out the hard way about Casey’s Raiders. When they came crying for help, if a bunch of soft skinned office jocks lived through a fight with those savages, then he would dictate the terms and Mr. I-live-in-a-penthouse would grovel to take them.

  Jessie was fuming in the elevator, ready to get in his car and scratch this place off his map. He stared at the floor, seething and breathing deeply through his nose. The security guards flanking him shared a look then quietly apologized for his rude treatment.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” the bigger of the two said, and took him on a circuitous route back to the basement. He was given an unofficial, and surely unauthorized, tour that let him see what the tower was all about, the hundreds of people it housed. He saw their smiling faces as they nodded in greeting. They had on clean clothes and smelled of soap, not dirt. Their hair was styled, not hanging in unwashed strands. They were friendly and eager to show him what they did, their job, if he showed any interest. They were decent folk, he concluded. It wasn’t their fault their leader was a jerk.

  There was an indoor park and water fountain with kids too young for kindergarten playing and laughing in it. The movie theater had a double feature and the smell of cinnamon rolls from the bakery was heavenly. There was an Olympic sized pool in the gym and his guard, which now felt more like a tour guide, swiped his card and bought Jessie a hot fudge sundae from the ice cream shop. In the back, he could hear the brothers arguing over how to set up the new machines they’d brought. Jessie hoped the captain of the guard was more reasonable, this place needed some serious defenses to keep it safe. Mini guns, at the very least. If Casey found out about it, he’d want to make it his new headquarters.

  The captain was waiting for him at the foot of the escalator and Jessie thanked the guard again for the ice cream. First he’d had in eight months.

  “Can we talk, Mr. Meadows? Would you mind stepping into my office?”

  “As long as I can finish my sundae,” Jessie said with a grin and a little chocolate on his lip.

  They passed banks of video cameras on the way in and took comfortable chairs in the tidy room.

  “You have met the CEO?” he said. Not really a question.

  “Yeah, real forward-thinking guy,” Jessie said, and shook his head.

  “Nobody can stand alone in this world. You guys might have the zombie problem under control, but there are gangs out there with rocket launchers. If he doesn’t want to help anyone else, nobody is going to come to his aide when he needs it.”

  “I know,” Captain Macon said. “But I wanted you to meet him first. Not all of us feel the same way. Can Lakota help us upgrade our defenses?”

  27

  Jessie

  The captain of the guard turned out to be the real driving force behind the Tower. Charles Macon, Chuck to his friends, had been a deputy sheriff for fifteen years in the Lane County department, and was a member of their SWAT team. He had been on a routine rural patrol when his radio came alive with slowly panicking dispatchers trying to send units to disturbances at first, then to ‘officer down’ distress calls. He’d been nearly an hour away from Eugene, checking for vandalism at one of the fire towers. Kids with spray cans scrawling their names
. From the time he got the first call for assistance, until the radios went silent, he knew all was lost. There was only him and another rural deputy still on the air, no one else responded to repeated calls. Both lived away from town and both generally patrolled the rural sections of the county. They talked on the radio, kept each other calm as they listened to the other voices disappear one by one. They agreed to get their families to safety first and thought of the Tower. It stood alone, isolated and independent. A giant rectangle of glass and steel next to the river. An hour later they dropped their families off and told security to lock the place down. Both deputies double checked their shotguns, took rifles out of their trunks, and went into town to see if there was anything they could do to help.

  There wasn’t.

  They came back to the Tower with wild stories of savage, unkillable people, vicious cannibalism and an orderly world in complete chaos. Mobs ran through the streets, buildings burned out of control, sirens and car alarms were blaring, smoke filled the air and screams of the undead where everywhere. The CEO allowed them to stay if they could train a defensive force and clean out the problem on the docks. He offered them cramped quarters in the blue-collar apartments of the lower levels when they agreed. The metal storm shutters were lowered, the dying world was locked out. That first day had been the only outbreak inside the Tower. All of the employees lived on site as part of the agreement for working there. The Tower was supposed to be fully self-contained, with no reason for anyone to commute, and they were in the middle of the five-year study to assess the feasibility of more being built worldwide. The early morning package pickup driver had been making his rounds and had a breakfast sandwich in Florence. By the time he made it to the docks at the back of the Tower, he’d rushed to the bathroom feeling sick. He’d killed twelve people before the security guard could gun him down. They almost lost complete control when the dead started turning into undead, but they managed to seal the delivery doors in time. Only a few more people were lost.

  Jessie listened to the story as the captain told it and understood a little better how things operated. Not much went on without the captain knowing about it or having a hand in it. He didn’t want to run the show, he was content to let the CEO be in charge of this kingdom, but he knew they couldn’t be an island standing alone.

  “Can I see that list you showed Horowitz?” he asked and smiled at Jessie's mild surprise.

  “His bodyguards, who really work for me, triggered their two-ways as soon as you two started talking,” he said. “Safety protocol with outsiders. Especially one like yourself. No offense intended.”

  “None taken.” Jessie said then handed over the tattered notebook and thumbed at the scar on his lip, a habit he’d picked up and did unconsciously now, wiping away any errant bit of saliva that might have leaked out.

  “Good Lord! You can get steak? And bacon?” the captain exclaimed and sat upright in his chair. “I am so tired of eating salads and fish…” he broke off and closed the book.

  “Add us to the trade route,” he said. “We’ve got to have something to offer and if this building has it, I can get it.”

  “You have brain power.” Jessie said. “Send a man over the river with me, I’ll get you a can of Lakota Gold. I know you guys use some kind of digital bitcoin here in the Tower but this is money for everyone else. Use it to get the supplies you need. I think your most valuable commodity is knowledge, it’s hard to put a price on that or trade it for a box of ammo. You have dentists and doctors and hydroponics experts and things like that. Consider the gold a good will gesture, we can figure out the training value later. We’ll have to set up some classrooms here or maybe have your specialists go on teaching tours when we get the roads safer.”

  Captain Macon agreed. They had plenty of fish, fruits, and vegetables, even in the winter, but their real asset was people and what was inside their heads. Architects and engineers. Designers and artists. Doctors and dentists. The old way of doing things was dead and gone, they were going to have to come up with new ways to keep society civilized and modern. It would be way too easy to slip back a few hundred years and lose everything they’d gained since the industrial revolution. The brain trust housed in the Tower needed to be protected. The aeronautical engineer upstairs may be the last one on earth and he didn’t want to keep that knowledge locked away like the CEO did. He wanted to help rebuild, not hide away in a safe cocoon.

  “We’ve got military grade hardware and the men who know how to use it,” Jessie said. “You can harden this building so it won’t be worth the effort when the Raiders find you. And they will. I’d suggest starting with RPGs on the roof. You have a clear view and you’d be able to hit them before they hit you.”

  “I’ve heard stories of them,” Macon said. “I heard a lot of them ride motorcycles, that’s one reason there hasn’t been many up this way, too cold. But summer is coming and they probably will, too. How soon can we get started?”

  “As soon as you can get a ham radio up and working,” Jessie said and scribbled down the frequency Wire Bender monitored. “One of your scavenger teams can get everything you need, those guys that brought the ice cream machines seemed pretty competent. I’ll let Lakota know about your situation, tell them you’ll be calling soon. One of our military guys can figure out the equipment you need to turn this place into a fortress.”

  “That would be a relief,” Macon said. He knew how woefully underpowered they were with only the handguns and rifles the traders brought.

  “Hey, I just thought of something,” Jessie said, sitting up straighter in his chair, a little excited. “Not sure if it’ll work, but the eggheads here can probably figure something out. We have access to the internet. The complete, whole thing, as it was the day of the fall, every website, every archive, and even every Facebook post.”

  Macon raised his eyebrows. “Really? How?” he asked.

  “It’s all in the NSA computers,” Jessie said, tumbling the words out quickly, thinking out loud. “We can’t get to it in Lakota, but General Carson has access from NORAD. We can ask him about specific things, like growing seasons or firing order of an engine, and he can get the info for us. He has no way to transmit the information, but he can read it over the ham, the important stuff. Maybe some of your guys could figure out how everyone can access it again.”

  Captain Macon was intrigued. “If anyone can figure it out, the people here can,” he said. “It’s what they do. And,” he added slyly. “I’m pretty sure Horowitz would be a lot more open to trade if you had something he didn’t.”

  28

  Jessie

  Jessie made his way down to the ocean and hung out on the beach for a day; bundled against the weather, tossing sticks for Bob and looking for seashells. There was a cargo ship anchored off shore and there were people on it. It looked like living people, hard to tell from the distance, even with his binoculars. He built a fire from driftwood that night to let them know there were survivors onshore just in case they didn’t. He figured the crew was small and had plenty to eat from the contents of the containers. Surely more than one of them was filled with tons of rice or cans of soup. It rained a lot off the coast of Oregon so water wasn’t an issue. They had probably anchored at sea when the world went mad and if they never took a lifeboat ashore, may assume everyone was dead. No one had showed up by morning so he wrapped a greeting note with the radio frequencies in plastic. He told them how to contact Lakota and drew out a crude map with a few safe towns on it they could visit. As an afterthought, he added the Cimarron valley Hutterite community and scribbled “handsome devils looking for wives” then added a smiley face. He left it nailed to a stake near the remains of his fire and tossed in a few of the coins. If they’d seen the bonfire, maybe they’d come in a day or two. Maybe they were playing it safe, worried about an ambush. He waved, just in case they were watching, then idled the Mercury off the beach to get back to work.

  He meandered through the empty lands, occasionally finding survivors,
occasionally clearing a small town by leading the shuffling mobs slowly down the road and taking them out with his .22. He heard reports on the radio about the train operations Lakota was conducting, leading massive hundred thousand strong hordes out of the cities and into the desert. The scorching heat dehydrated them so severely, within weeks they were nearly mummified and barely able to move. It didn’t take long after that until their brains baked dry and they died their second death.

  Captain Wilson had returned from his mission to blow all the bridges crossing the Mississippi so the hundred million undead from the East Coast wouldn’t swarm the Midwest in numbers that couldn’t be stopped. The Rockies acted as a natural barrier from the hundred million zombies in the West Coast cities. Slowly but steadily, the Central States were being cleared of the vast hordes of milling undead. There were still millions, but the fledgling new government thought they were containable. That the fortified towns and settlements would be able to withstand wandering attacks long enough for help to arrive. Everyone was learning how to operate the ham radios and modify CBs to transmit long distances. Traders kept everyone informed of any big herds they saw in their travels, although everyone knew to stay away from the cities. Still too many undead milling around for anyone but the bravest, or craziest, retrievers to mess with.

  Jessie made his way back across the Cascades and into Eastern Washington State. He still occasionally came across people who had survived. Small settlements of hard men and women doing well for themselves by scavenging. He saw evidence of Casey’s Raiders, too. Burned out and shot up fortified buildings. Stories from encampments that had fought them off, the group of cannibals who had sharpened their teeth and wore grisly trophies of finger bones as necklaces. Jessie knew why they did the things they did, even if he didn’t understand how they could be like that. There was no one to stop them. To them, they were living in their own utopia. They could do whatever they wanted. Rob, steal, kill, rape, and pillage. They probably likened themselves to Vikings or Huns, if they thought about it at all. They were doing what wicked men had always done, throughout history, when there was no fear of repercussions. When there were no hard men that would hunt them down. When they were the most powerful tribe in the land. Casey’s Raiders had swallowed up all the smaller bands. The outlaw biker gangs, the black inner-city gangs that had managed to fight their way out, the Mexican and Chinese gangs had all joined the bigger army. By themselves, they weren’t strong enough, they were just gangs of bandits. Together, they were an army and believed in their insane leader who had started it all by eating the heart of his vanquished enemy. Casey loomed larger than life in every retelling of his story among his followers.