100 A.Z. (Book 3): The Mountain

by Nelson, Patrick T.

  John hid in the trees on a hillside overlooking the cabin where Aaron lived. It was sunrise. Chilly. The cold didn’t bother him much anymore. The wind was loud, though. He couldn’t hear anything over it. He guessed it was about forty degrees. He’d been sitting above the cabin for about an hour.

  If he was going to talk to his son he needed to do it soon. His walker horde would catch up. He needed to lead them away from here. Down the mountain to the destination they constantly thought of.

  How could he talk to his son, though? How could he face him? Even the journey north had cost countless lives as John led his disgusting, fetid mass of undead beasts across the landscape. It laid waste to everything in its path. If it wasn’t killing humans, it was trampling their farms, fouling their rivers, scaring away their game.

  “Not much longer. It’s almost over,” he mumbled to himself as he stood and gritted his teeth. He walked down the hill toward the cabin. A few crows landed in the pines overhead, indicating his horde was probably only a couple hours behind.

  He knocked on the door and waited. There were footsteps inside and then the sound of a pump action shotgun on the other side.

  “Who is it?” The voice of young man came from the other side. Less boyish than he remembered.

  John started to speak but his voice was choked. He cleared his throat. “It’s me…It’s John. Your father.”

  John could almost feel the hesitation on the other side of the door. Then he heard a metal bar slide. The door opened. Aaron was standing there, shotgun at his side.

  “Hello,” John said.

  “I figured you were dead,” Aaron said, noticing how bad his dad looked.

  “No. But…”

  “I heard Mark is dead,” Aaron said with a hint of defiance.

  “Yes, he was bit. It was a while ago…I’m…I’m so sorry…”

  “Like I told your friends, I expected it. I figured it was only me left.”

  There was a cough from behind Aaron. Sophia. John adjusted his weight and looked beyond Aaron to see the girl.

  “This is Sophia, my wife.”

  “Hello. Pleased to meet…” John crumpled over, the hunger pang wrenching his insides. He moaned in pain until it passed a few moments later. He righted himself and swallowed. “Pleased to meet you, sorry about that.”

  “What’s wrong?” Sophia asked.

  “Just hungry.”

  “We’ve got food…”

  “No, it won’t help. I can’t explain. I need to go.”

  Sophia went into a coughing fit, doubling over. She held a rag at her mouth. John could see blood, new and old, on it.

  “She’s sick,” John said.

  “True,” Aaron shifted, feeling defensive.

  “Almost looks like…”

  “Like what Mom had. I know. I don’t…” His voice cracked. Aaron composed himself. “I don’t know how she’s going to do when the baby comes.”

  “Baby?”

  Sophia had a blanket on, covering her stomach. John hadn’t seen it. She tried a small smile and nodded.

  “Well…I’m glad. I’m happy for you,” John paused. “Aaron…I just wish…I wish that…”

  “It’s fine. Really.” Aaron said firmly.

  “No. It’s not. I’ve been gone.”

  “I’m sure you had your reasons.” There was a hint of a barb in Aaron’s statement. “The Maibels take care of us now.”

  John opened his mouth to speak but Sophia’s coughing interrupted. More blood on the rag.

  “I can help her,” John said.

  Aaron exhaled sharply. “What can you do?”

  “It’s…It’s hard to explain. But I can.”

  “I don’t think…I don’t think I want your help, Dad.”

  “I understand,” John sighed.

  “No. I’m not sure you do.”

  “Listen!” John shouted, then lowered his voice. “Listen. I don’t have much time. I’ll take Sophia. I can help her. I promise you.”

  “You promise, huh?” Aaron shook his head.

  “Please, son. Let me help her.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “You heard me. I don’t want your help. I don’t want you in our lives,” Aaron couldn’t hide the trembling in his voice any longer. “Please go.”

  “I’m going to help her.”

  “Go! Get out of here, I don’t want to…” Aaron started to raise the shotgun but John grabbed it, ripping it from his son’s hands.

  “I’m sorry,” John said.

  John slammed the butt of the gun into Aaron’s forehead. It landed squarely, sending Aaron back onto the floor. Sophia was coughing. John walked past his stunned and bleeding son and grabbed Sophia by the arm.

  “I’m going to help you!” he said as he lifted her up from the bed. He felt a hand grab his ankle. John let go of the girl and delivered a right hand to Aaron’s jaw. It put Aaron out, but Sophia ran out the door screaming.

  John stormed out the door to see her running across the muddy ground toward the road leaving the property. He ran after her and caught up after she slipped and fell in the mud.

  “Are you okay?!” John asked, frightened for the baby.

  She screamed and kicked at him. He dodged and grabbed the next foot that flew. He then grabbed her arm and forced her, kicking and screaming, off the ground and over his shoulder.

  “STOP!!! LET ME GO!!!” she shrieked, John was forced to put her down, lest he drop her.

  John started dragging her toward the direction he’d come from when a shot erupted from back at the cabin.

  “LET HER GO!!!”

  John spun around to see Aaron standing. He’d fired in the air. John kept his grip on Sophia.

  “I’m going to help her!” John shouted.

  There was more commotion behind John. A group of five men on horseback, all pointing rifles at John. The Maibels.

  “Don’t shoot! You’ll hit her!” John barked.

  “I’ve got a shot!” One of them yelled to his comrades.

  “NO!!!” Aaron yelled up to the man.

  Aaron started toward John, to wrestle Sophia away from him, but he was only halfway there when he heard the sound. It hadn’t been loud enough over the wind, but now that it was closer he could hear it. Groans of the undead. He looked behind the cabin, where John had come from, and saw them moving over the hillside like ants. Hundreds of them, with more and more coming.

  Aaron charged John and grabbed at his father’s face, digging his thumbs into John’s eyes. The other Maibels rode down and began shooting at the oncoming horde.

  “There’s too many! Get her!”

  John kneed Aaron off of him, and began dragging Sophia toward the undead.

  Aaron screamed as he punched at John’s head, but John couldn’t feel the pain. At least not the physical sort. The undead were now steps away. John realized his son would stay with his wife until the end, getting bit himself. There was only one way to get Aaron to leave.

  “Trust me!” John shouted to his son, but he wasn’t listening. John kicked Aaron back and then picked up Sophia, carrying her right into the walkers. John held her out to the nearest zombie. It looked at John, hesitating for a second.

  “DO IT!!!” John yelled at it. He knew Aaron would charge right amongst them. John couldn’t keep them all off Aaron. Their instinct was to protect John.

  Aaron screamed out as he saw the teeth latch onto Sophia’s forearm. Aaron started running toward them, but just as John had hoped, one of the Maibels reached down from their horse and pulled him back. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Aaron was forced onto the back of one of their horses as the Maibels turned and fled from the continuous onslaught of the undead.

  The walker released Sophia’s arm. She was sobbing, crying for Aaron. She fell to the ground at John’s feet, no longer struggling. They were completely surrounded by the undead. John knelt down next to her. She wept into his shoulder, confused by everything around her. So distraught, she
didn’t even register that she was being comforted by the person who’d caused this.

  Five minutes later the turn happened. She’d was coughing when it suddenly stopped. John helped her up. She tried to bite him. He shoved her down, making her submit. Once she had, he led her over to the shed by Aaron’s cabin. He found a roped and tied it around her waist. He made a loop on the other end and held it.

  “Come on, Sophia. Let me help you.”

  Chapter 26

  The building was about fifty feet by fifty feet. A rope cordoned off the half of the room housing the cage. It was a large cage, square, about ten feet across and covered by a large tarp. The afternoon sunlight came in through a crack in the boarded up windows and was the only light except for a fire tended by the New Generation guards on the other side of the rope. Only Justin Beck was allowed near the cage.

  Colorado Springs had returned to relative order. The Canadian attempt to unleash the virus failed. The northern attackers were powerful, but inexperienced in such tactics. No one had heard from or seen the Canadians, and everyone was on edge, waiting for a repeat attack.

  A man entered the building and removed his down coat that was coming apart at some seams. It was one of the only down coats remaining from the supplies New Generation had taken from Cheyenne Mountain. As the leader of the cartel, Justin had every right to the remaining goods.

  As characteristic of New Generation soldiers, the men did not stand or salute. Such things were representative of old power structures. The leadership still got the best goods, but that was overlooked.

  “A moment alone, please,” Justin requested. The men stood to go outside.

  Justin stood at the rope for a moment and took a deep breath. He stepped across and approached the cage. There were no sounds from within.

  Justin undid the claps on the front part of the tarp and slowly pulled it back. He squinted to see in the dark, but he couldn’t make anything out. He undid all the clasps so the tarp could be pulled completely back.

  “There you are, my darling,” he said.

  Inside the cage was a bed and a chair. Lying in the bed was a figure covered in blankets. It didn’t move.

  “Wake up, sweetheart.”

  The bed didn’t stir.

  “WAKE!!!” he shouted angrily.

  There was some movement.

  “That’s better. I want to see you.”

  Quiet sobs came from the bed. They were muffled under the blankets.

  “Stand up, or I’ll hurt him. I’ll hurt Dalbec.”

  The sobs stopped.

  “So, you do care. He’s very valuable, you know. All along, he hid right under your nose, the key to your unreachable success. You had no idea, though. Now he’s ours. Just like you.”

  The blankets slowly and clumsily unfurled. The figure sat up, barely lit in the fire. It winced, having aggravated its injuries, which caused a slight gurgle in its throat.

  “Good. It hurts. Now stand.”

  The figure stood, head hanging low.

  “Walk to the bars. Come closer.”

  The feet shuffled and carried the body toward the bars. It was clothed in a long nightgown that dragged along the floor. It reached the bars, a faint cry coming from deep inside.

  “You are beautiful. A true creation.”

  The cries turned to sobs and the body convulsed. Justin stared deep into her eyes and saw the pain. It was pain and sorrow those eyes had never carried before.

  “They did good work. Your teeth are all removed, and your cheeks sewn up. Lift up your hands?”

  The figure shook its head, the sobs turning to a stifled whine.

  “Yes. Or we hurt him.”

  She raised her hands, or what had once been her hands. Instead, bandages covered the stumps where they had once been.

  “Yes. You are gelded, Sara. And soon we will turn you.”

  Chapter 27 – February 102 A.Z.

  After travelling with the Canadians, Ellie settled into her old desk in Los Alamos.

  Dust, moths, rot. Everything was the same as she’d left it, except that Dav was the one looking over her shoulder now.

  “What do you see today, little one?” Dav purred as she gently patted Ellie on the head. Ellie winced, but fought to hide it.

  “I-I-I’m working through the checklist. I’ve finished 32, with another 85 to go.”

  “So far. So far, what is it your little eyes see?” Dav turned around, putting her back to Ellie. She began a slow, fluid dance, raising and lowering her arms at her side while squatting. Ellie had seen Dav do this dance before. It was actually quite graceful.

  “N-n-no change.”

  “Then our friends are gone?”

  “Y-y-es. Of the 32 cites I’ve looked at, 29 are abandoned. Two are preparing to evacuate, it looks like.”

  “Leaving one city.”

  “Colorado Springs.”

  “My…Our…Dave’s parting gift over the walls didn’t consume them. That is fine. Just FINE. Next time we’ll be more diligent. Next time you’ll be more diligent.”

  “O-o-okay.”

  “Look at the remaining 85. I must know all the facts. People are leaving, going away. Leaving their settlements. Interesting. I’ve always been a student, of sorts, and this is worth studying. I feel young again. Studying.”

  “I-I-I…” Ellie couldn’t get the words out.

  “Slow down, Ellie, speak with the speed.”

  “I can’t tell where these people are going. I-I-I mean, we know they’re leaving, but where to? They’re not just disappearing.”

  “Where is your map, little one? The one you’ve marked all over like a selfish person. You only care about your needs with the map, not who can’t use it in the future – because of all your marks.”

  Ellie opened the drawer and unfolded the map of the United States. She’d crossed off the 29 cities she already observed. The 85 left to search were circled.

  “Tell me about the pattern. I have difficulty seeing patterns, anymore. ACTUALLY. The problem is the opposite. I see patterns in everything, even when there’s nothing there. I wonder if Dav Strombeck was the same way. I just think back to those abandoned settlements, the satellite pictures you showed me. So sad. So lonely. The people all gone. But not sad, part of my plan.”

  “T-t-the pattern?”

  “Yes! Little one! Where are they empty!”

  “In the west and middle of the country…?”

  “Then we must search the whole country. See where the people still are. LOOK. FIND. REPORT,” Dav said, leaving the room.

  Ellie obeyed. There was little other choice. Los Alamos had undergone one of those leadership changes again. Looking about, though, there were hardly any original residents left to lead. They’d all been replaced by the higher ranking Canadian soldiers. The rest of the Canadians camped outside the wall. Ellie did a mental tally. She’d only seen three people she remembered from when she departed Los Alamos. Was this simply another location to lose its people?

  One by one she checked off the remaining 85 cities she was supposed to search, and one by one she observed a mass exodus from the western and central United States.

  “I brought you some food.” It was a man’s voice behind her. She still had no door on her work area from when Sal had removed it, and people walked in at will. Most were bored Canadians wanting to “see the world from above.” They’d have a laugh, or ooh and ahh, interrupting her tedious work. Sometimes she didn’t mind, but mostly it was distracting.

  Ellie turned to receive the food.

  “Freddie!” Ellie exclaimed, seeing her brother.

  “Shh!! How are you?!” he whispered

  “I-I-I’m okay. What in the world are you doing here!”

  “It’s a long story, I don’t have time to explain. I had to bribe the guy who was supposed to be delivering your food. I told him I was sweet on you.”

  “G-g-gross.”

  “Yeah, you are gross.”

  “W-w-why are you here?!”r />
  “I got a gig working a secret project a while back. Well, it was to infiltrate Dav’s tribe. I was there for months until I lost contact with Denver. Then I learned Denver was gone! I had nowhere to go! I’ve been with them since. I thought I’d never see you again!”

  “I-I-I can’t believe you’re just working for them now!”

  “Have you looked in a mirror, Ellie?”

  “Oh…yeah…”

  “You can’t let on we know each other, it won’t end well. These folks crazy. Gotta go, talk to you later,” Freddie leaned in to kiss Ellie on the forehead.

  “What on EARTH are you doing touching my eye girl?!” Dav walked in at the worst possible moment. “Guards!” Louder. “GUARDS!” she shouted. Freddie couldn’t move.

  Several guards ran up, looking confused.

  “Take this prototype away. Breeding tendencies. She, I forgive, having lived so long in the wrong lies. She must embrace the right lies.”

  “N-n-no!” Ellie stammered, wanting to explain he was her brother. She stopped herself, unsure if revealing that put him in more danger.

  “Shhhh, shhhhh, don’t worry,” Dav sided up to Ellie and held her head, petting her hair. “Sweet child, don’t fret, I’ve taken away the bad man. You’re safe now, you’re with Dav. GUARDS, we’re going for a walk outside the walls.”

  ◆◆◆

  “…and then there were ‘coupons.’ They were pieces of paper with rules about which food you could obtain.” Dav continued, in a rare surge of mental clarity. “There was a pretty picture of the food, along with the particular challenge you had to overcome to get it. They were easy challenges, mind you. For instance, you might only have to choose which extra hamburger to get for free – but only if you bought another of the same type. This simulated hunting, in the minds of pre-zombie humans. ‘That sounds so easy, though, and hunting is so hard,’ you might ask. Correct. The intent was for it to be easy, and give the sensation of hunting without the hard work. It was like a child’s game. It needed to be fun, not arduous.”

  “T-t-that’s interesting.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Ellie and Dav strolled outside the walls of the Los Alamos complex. It was a mild day, the sun was out, and Dav was expounding on her knowledge of the pre-zombie age. Four guards shadowed them, at a respectful distance, keeping eyes out on the surrounding area.