by DeLeon, Jon
“What’s your business here?”
“Business? We are just trying to survive.” Kurt had gained a brash confidence.
“Americans?” One of the walking bushes asked.
“Yes.” It dawned on Kurt for the first time that the men had no accents. “Wait, are you American?”
“Yes. You still didn’t answer our question. Why are you here?”
Kurt continued talking for Tyler and himself. “We have been driving through the woods, trying to head south and escape this zombie . . . whatever you want to call it.”
The two bushes stood silently for a moment. They lowered their rifles. The men in camouflage removed their top coverings, revealing two wiry faces. They looked nearly identical. The only real difference was that one brother was clearly about a foot taller. They both had small brown beards that somewhat rounded out their lithe faces but did nothing to hide their pointed noses and raised brows. Dark-black eyes peered, somehow kindly, through sleep-deprived sockets.
“I’m Brandon, and this is my twin brother, Jonathan,” the taller of the now-unmasked men said.
“Aren’t twins supposed to be . . . the same?” Kurt asked, indicating the height difference.
Brandon broke out in loud laughter. “Ha ha ha . . . oh my god . . . ha ha ha . . . the world literally comes to an end and the first thing people notice is how much of a midget you are! Ha ha ha.”
Jonathan was not amused. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Brandon wiped a tear of joy from his face. “I like these guys already.”
“How did you guys end up out here?” Tyler asked. His voice returned now that a rifle wasn’t pointed at him.
“You two first,” Jonathan responded.
Tyler answered, “Honeymoon.”
Kurt jumped. “Not with each other. I’m an exchange student. His wife is in the RV.”
Brandon laughed. “Okay.”
“What about you guys? How are you in the middle of Russia while the rest of the world is going to hell?”
“We came here with our father on a hunting trip. When this whole zombie mess started happening, we began helping people traveling the road.”
“So there are more of you?” Tyler’s spirits were rising. He felt safer in numbers larger than three.
“Yeah, a bunch. We have a little shantytown about half a mile up the road.”
There was an awkward silence.
Kurt broke it. “Can we join you guys?”
Brandon, clearly the brother in charge, answered back with a playful smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Dad, come in,” Brandon said into his radio.
“This is Philip. Use your name when calling, Brandon, report.”
“Brandon here. I’ve got three survivors at the north gate with one RV. They’re Americans, two males, one female, with weapons.” Brandon looked at the gas cans on the roof. “Are those filled?” he asked Kurt and Tyler. They nodded their heads. “And fuel reserves.” He paused, waiting for a reply.
“Okay, take them to slot W-7. Repeat, W-7.”
“W-7. Heard, out.” Brandon put the radio away. “All right, let’s go. I’ll open the gate, then ride in with you and show you where to park,” he said to Kurt and Tyler.
“Sounds good,” Tyler said.
Kurt and Tyler hopped into the driver and passenger seats, respectively. After a few minutes reversing and driving the RV, they were pointed down the road correctly again and moving past the gate. Jonathan stayed behind on guard duty as Brandon moved the tree blockade to the side. The entire wall had been built over an old metal gate, making opening it simple to accomplish. Brandon then climbed into the RV.
“This is Liz,” Tyler said, turning around in the passenger seat. “Liz, this is Brandon.”
“Nice to meet you,” Liz said.
“So you weren’t lying about being on your honeymoon, huh?” Brandon laughed. “Nice to meet you.”
Kurt drove the RV down the road. In just a few minutes, they pulled into what looked like a poor trailer park. A grouping of tents, station wagons and RVs all circled a fire pit built to the side of the road. On the trees around the fire pit were letters painted on pieces of wood.
Brandon pointed to a sign with a bright-blue W painted on it. “Take a right after that tree, and spot number seven is going to be on the left, two spots in.” Brandon hopped out of the RV after turning at the “W” tree and helped direct them to back into the number-seven spot. “My father, Philip, will come introduce himself to you soon. He’s the leader of this little encampment. Until then, please just stay in the RV. I’m going to get back to the gate. Nice to meet y’all.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Tyler, Kurt and Liz said.
Brandon then headed off to rejoin his brother.
It wasn’t more than a few minutes before Philip came over to welcome the new people to camp. He knocked on the RV door. Philip was an older gentleman yet still quite built. His age was evident, but he was clearly in shape, as his muscle tone showed through his clothes. His gray beard scruff and some wrinkled laugh lines gave away his years. “Welcome to your new home. Mind if I step in?”
“Come on in,” Tyler said.
“Thanks,” Philip said, stepping in. He looked around, nodding his head. “Nineties chic, nice choice.” He turned and looked at Liz and Kurt, who were sitting on the couch, while Tyler stood in the room next to Philip. “Well I’m Philip.”
“I’m Liz.”
“Kurt.”
“Tyler.”
“Nice to meet you all. I’m the de facto mayor of this place. We are up to about thirty-five survivors here now, working to rebuild and stay alive. So far we haven’t had any issues with residents or zombies, and I’d like to keep it that way. We all get chores and upkeep to do each day and work together on construction projects. By staying here, you are expected to help out. Is that understandable?” he asked, opening his hands to all three of them. Liz, Kurt and Tyler all nodded their heads. “Good. For tonight, settle in and relax. You picked a great day to come to us. On Fridays, when the sun sets, we all come together and have a massive bonfire. It serves two purposes. We burn our trash, and we get to have a fun time. Tomorrow I’ll give you a tour of the whole place and show you some of the duties we all share. Sound good?”
Liz and Tyler nodded their heads. Kurt spoke up. “Philip, I need to get to the coast.”
“The coast?” Philip asked.
“Yes,” Kurt continued, “I need to get to a boat to get home somehow.”
Philip nodded his head. “I can help you with that, but in time. First you help us rebuild here and get secure, and when we’re more prepared, we can start sending out expeditions. Then we can help you get to the coast. But first you help us here. Deal?”
Kurt nodded his head. “Deal.”
“Awesome!” Philip clapped his hands. “Then I’ll see you all tonight!” He stepped out of the RV and walked off toward the center of the encampment.
Liz turned to Kurt. “Don’t worry, Kurt. We’ll make sure you get to the coast. We’ll come with you.”
“Thanks, Liz,” Kurt said.
“Let’s eat some food before this bonfire,” Tyler said.
“Good idea!” said Liz.
The sun was setting quickly, and the fire lighting would come in less than a few hours.
The fire crackled and shot sparks into the night. Pinecones popped, and white smoke wisped against the blackness of the moonless sky. A couple of Russian musicians had broken out guitars and were playing a jaunty tune. Liz was up dancing in a circle around the fire with all the other women. Tyler and Kurt sat on a log together, watching her. Kurt was admiring her smile and how happy she seemed. He couldn’t hold a grudge against someone so full of joy. Tyler was thinking about something else.
Just a day ago, he had been heading back to the RV early to avoid the rain when he saw his wife through the window, on top of another man, the very man they had picked up and saved on the side of th
e road. The image of her taking off Kurt’s shirt was one that he would never forget. Now he stared at her face, the smile and laughter. It reminded him of how she had looked, full of lust with another man.
You are filth. I gave myself to you completely. I’ve even saved you again and again. How do you repay me? You sleep with the first man you lay eyes on. You’ll pay for this, I promise the Universe and God himself. You will pay. Now that we are safe, I don’t need to suffer your betrayal. Karma will come for you.
To be continued in:
NEW WORLD
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jon DeLeon is a science-fiction author, CrossFit Level 1 Trainer and online marketing professional from Wellington, Colorado. For years DeLeon has enjoyed and loved science fiction, apocalyptic, fantasy, and action & adventure books, movies, and miniseries. DeLeon found himself swimming with story ideas and a desire to share them. After a few years of writing practice and story structure training, DeLeon is excited to have begun releasing his original stories.
Outbreak is the first of a three-part book series titled Undead, all part of a series called The Apocalypse Chronicles.
To learn more about Jon DeLeon and his upcoming releases please visit
BeyondNormalBooks.com
If you’d like to follow Jon DeLeon on Instagram you can find him at:
@jonathanrdeleon
