The Feral Children [A Zombie Road Tale] Box Set | Books 1-3

by Simpson, David A.

  It hadn’t taken long for the animals to start reverting back to their true natures. Swan was teaching the wolves to chase rabbits, the panther was stalking birds and going up trees after raccoons. They made sure to keep the gates closed to keep them out of the petting zoo as the instincts to hunt continued to evolve. Their daily supply of eggs and milk wasn’t much, but it helped, and they didn’t want to lose them.

  The two polar bears were content to eat fish. The twins had built fish traps and the Mississippi was generous. Their coats had taken on a glossy appearance from all of the oils in the fish and they were something to behold. Like Vanessa, the twins had used leashes at first to lead them to the river and back but the bears had always known humans. They learned quickly and soon the two nearly albino children were frolicking with them in the cold water and riding them around the park. They had to teach them to fish by wading out into the shallows and standing still. The fish that darted off came back after a few minutes and the bears learned quickly how to spot them and paw them out to the bank.

  Otis on the other hand, showed no interest in hunting or stalking prey. He was happy eating human food. Especially Spam. He’d chuffed and bobbed up and down like an overexcited puppy after his first taste. He’d devoured the two cans they’d found stuffed in Derek’s desk and begged for more. While he didn’t care for the hunt, he was quick to show the other animals who was the dominant creature in the park. After a dustup with Popsicle, he’d walked away with one chewed up ear, and a new scar on his snout, but Popsicle didn’t challenge him again and the other animals in the strange family recognized him as the alpha. It had been frightening for them to watch, the giant bears battling for supremacy. They couldn’t stop them, they couldn’t interfere, and a single swipe of a paw would have killed them. When it was all said and done, it had mostly been growls and roars. Mostly posturing and neither animal came away from the fight with much damage.

  Cody had watched the strange twins and the polar bears diving into their pool chasing the fish they’d pulled from the traps in the river. They seemed almost oblivious to the cold water as they splashed and played with the two big bears, eating and sharing the raw fish with their ursine friends. He was the oldest and part of him wanted to tell them it probably wasn’t a good idea to eat uncooked meat but what was sushi? What was steak tartare? And who was he to tell anyone what to do? If grownups were here, they’d be yelling at him for letting Otis inside the house and if the truth be told, when he actually thought about it, he really didn’t think they would survive for long. Winter was coming, they were surrounded by zombies and all the grownups were dead. They were all being a little crazy, a little irresponsible, but it was okay. They were living in a crazy world and he tried not to think about it.

  The twins were an odd pair to begin with, but the absence of any adults had exacerbated their behavior, maybe more than everyone else’s. They’d taken to drawing Nordic runes on their bodies with permanent marker, touching them up often as the sun and dirt worked to fade and erode them.

  Murray zipped around in his chair, always in motion and the little capuchin monkeys became attached to him like he was their second mamma. At first, they hid under his coat when the panther or one of the bears would pad alongside his chair but they grew comfortable around the predators when they realized they had no interest in eating them. He taught them to fetch things for him and they were eager to please, chittering merrily and jumping around swinging on things. He didn’t even try to keep them on a leash when he first freed them. They could smell the undead, as did all the animals. They sensed everything was different somehow and clung to the humans that were still human. Their entire lives, it was all any of them knew. The humans had always been their caregivers, had always given them food and water. They would be lost without them.

  Murray dug through the tool sheds, opened closets, rifled through desk drawers. He was always in search of anything that would give them an edge, always scrolling through his tablet looking at one of the thousands of books he had on it. He inventoried everything, jotted down notes and considered possible alternative uses for each item. The park had a fairly well-equipped maintenance garage where the caretakers had kept the various mowers and carts in good running order. There was just about any tool they would need but without any machinery to fix, there wasn’t much use for most of them. He was organized and methodical and Cody was thankful. Murray would have a list of all the things they needed when he finally swallowed his fear and they ventured out for a supply run. He’d been putting it off for as long as possible because some of them, maybe all of them, might not make it back. When he first started thinking about going to town, he hadn’t even considered taking the animals, they might wander off and they’d never see them again. He’d changed his mind, though. They had all been working with their companions for hours and hours every day and the bonds were strong. He wasn’t worried about any of them running away anymore. He didn’t think they could drive them off if they tried.

  Harper was the next oldest to Cody, she was thirteen and sometimes he couldn’t help but notice how long and tan her legs were. He caught himself staring more than once after she took a quick, cold shower with the pull bucket they had rigged up. Her scream from the icy water and giggles afterward made him smile as she rushed to the fireplace to warm up beside it, her t-shirt sticking to the pointy places on her chest. She was really pretty and he’d get a little tongue-tied if he thought about her as a girl and not as one of the crew. If he thought about what it would be like to kiss her and not shovel cow manure beside her.

  He’d always been awkward around girls at school, they were a mystery with their own ways and the ones he liked probably wouldn’t want to talk to him anyway. Besides, what were you supposed to say to them? Did you see the new Star Wars movie? They’d probably laugh at him. With her it wasn’t a big deal. He had to talk to her and everybody else, she was just one of the crew. It wasn’t official or anything but everyone sort of looked to him for guidance or to settle an argument. He depended on Murray to keep things organized and everyone did the jobs they were supposed to do without him having to remind them. It wasn’t like before. If you didn’t do the dishes or mow the yard when you were supposed to, the worse that would happen is you would get yelled at. Now, if you didn’t do your job, something bad could and probably would happen. Didn’t milk the cow? She might die. Didn’t water the chickens? They might die. Didn’t walk the perimeter looking for breaches in the fence? You might die. Everything was a lot more serious now.

  Harper made him laugh when she told him she had every intention of riding Bert right through a horde of zombies, high on his back, out of reach of their grasping hands.

  “Bert will knock them all over like bowling pins and I’ll have a morning star to make sure they stay down.”

  “A what?” Cody asked.

  “Morning star. You know one of those ball and chain spikey things. Just swing it and kaboosh. Bye-bye Mr. Zombie head.”

  “Brutal.” he said with approval.

  Cody and Murray had inventoried the animals in the park and considered which ones were edible and how much meat they would provide. No matter what kind of math they did, the answer was not enough. There were a few gazelles and antelope no one would mind losing if they got desperate, they were truly wild and kept their distance but if they started eating them, all of them would be gone in a matter of weeks. There were the goats and sheep from the barnyard that would keep them from starving a while longer, but they wanted to breed them and create large herds, enough to be sustainable. The twins said they could even make cheese from the milk. The rest of the animals weren’t really edible and he’d go hungry before he tried to eat Millie or Teddy. They didn’t have a way to preserve the meat anyway, not that there would be much left if they could catch one of the antelopes. The bears and wolves ate a lot.

  The fish traps were bringing in a basket of fish everyday but the panther and the bears were devouring them as quickly as they were caught an
d were still hungry now that the storehouse meats were gone. There just wasn’t enough.

  Murray wanted a smokehouse but they didn’t have everything they needed to build it. All their plans and ideas were kind of moot anyway until they left the park for supplies. The town might be crawling with the undead with no way to get near any of the shops.

  None of them had lived in Putnam, only knew it from passing through on the main road. They knew there was a grocery store, all their parents shopped there but they didn’t know much else about the town. There were mostly boring antique or record stores and candle shops. Things they saw when they passed through but never paid any attention to. The kind of places where they’d rather sit in the car and play on their phone while their moms went inside.

  As they sat on the banks of the river, Cody leaning into the warm fur of Otis, he decided the time had come. That night he would tell the others they were going on a raid. Putnam was close enough that a fully charged cart would make the trip. If they were careful, if they were quiet, maybe they could find enough stuff to get them through. They needed food for them and the animals, warm clothes and some weapons to protect themselves. Going into town to see what was available would give them an idea of how hard the coming winter was going to be.

  Maybe they’d find a town barricaded by military personnel, thriving and safe but deep down he doubted it. Most likely, the town would be crawling with undead and before the day was out, he and his crew would join them. There was no other choice though. They had to go now while they were strong and had options. If it was really bad, they could quietly retreat and figure out something else. They couldn’t wait until they were weak with hunger and desperate.

  They were on their own and he’d made his mom a promise to look after the park and its survivors. He wouldn’t let her down. Wouldn’t break the promise. He didn’t know what he’d do if he walked out one day to see her at the fence, clawing and growling as she tried to get in.

  He ruffled his hands through Otis’s fur then climbed to his feet. Committed to his plan, they started back towards the house where he began gathering brush for the fire. It would feel good, burn hot and bright and chase the chill of the night away while he explained to the other kids his plan to either save them or get them all killed.

  16

  Kerry

  Kerry Lovell peeked through the blinds, looking for any sign of her husband. She was drinking the last of the coffee scavenged from their neighbor, the caffeine taking the edge off of her hunger. Chris had been gone too long. Worry set in. What would she do if he didn’t come back? There wasn’t anything left to eat, they’d even finished off the canned cat food from Mrs. Lowell. They’d been holed up and hiding since everyone went crazy. They had been one of the lucky ones, Chris had late classes that day at the University and was planning on grading papers all morning. They’d decided to keep Caleb home from school because there was a bug going around and he’d just gotten over a bad cold. She volunteered to watch her sister’s kids if she wanted to keep them out of classes and Sharon had agreed. She had enough stress in her life, she didn’t want her children coming down with whatever was going around.

  They thought the madness would pass quickly. The Army or the police or somebody, anybody, would restore order. The sick would be taken somewhere to get well and life would go on. They were wrong. It got worse. They lived fifteen miles south of LaCrosse where her husband worked.

  Had worked.

  They had moved away from the city and into the same subdivision as her sister a few years ago. It was far enough away from town to be called country and the Rolling Hills Estates were considered gentleman’s or hobby farms. The houses sat on five to ten acre lots and many of the families had a horse or other 4H animals.

  Things had gone from normal to insane in a matter of minutes. Her sisters’ kids had spent the night, had stayed up half of it giggling, and were still sleeping when everything went wrong. She and Chris were sitting on the front porch enjoying coffee and some quiet time before the children woke up when their neighbor across the street came tearing down the road in his car. He was driving like a maniac and screeched to a halt in front of his house. He ran inside, yelling for his wife to get his gun. He was bleeding from his shoulder and a screaming mob came running down the road after him.

  They sat and watched, too shocked to move as he came back out a moment later blasting away at the people. He shot them dozens of times but none of them fell to the ground. They only screamed louder. They smashed through the windows and they heard his wife’s shrieks become gurgling and liquid filled. They attacked in a frenzy, ignored the bullets ripping through them and started biting and tearing at him. Their fury died down as quickly as it started and they watched with wide staring eyes as their neighbor stood up and began shuffling around. Instinct told them to stay still, don’t get noticed. They barely breathed as they watched the bloody, ragged crowd walk aimlessly around the house and yard until they heard another scream. This one came from four or five houses down, a good quarter mile away. The mob turned towards it instantly and started running, keening and screeching until they disappeared over the rise.

  They went inside, locked the doors, shuttered the windows and tried to make phone calls. They kept quiet and watched the world burn on the television and computer until they lost power. After that, more of the same. Stay quiet, ration food, filter the pond water the best they could and steal eggs from the Walters two houses down. Their doors were swaying in the wind, bloody footprints covered the sidewalk. They wouldn’t be needing them.

  They were out of everything though. It had been weeks and Chris had raided all of the neighbor’s houses. He’d brought back a wheel barrow of food but it hadn’t lasted long with five mouths to feed. You’d think the so-called farmers would have pantries full of canned goods fresh from the garden but nobody did. Thousands of dollars’ worth of food went bad in their deep freeze, nobody did their own canning anymore. By the time the undead had cleared out of the neighborhood and it was safe to venture out, all of the penned-up animals that had been trapped in their stalls were dead and bloated.

  On one of his raids he had found a battery powered radio with shortwave and weather bands. He spent hours with it, rotating the dial slowly through each setting and never getting anything but static until he tried the AM band. Low on the dial and late at night he found a message being broadcast on a loop. It repeated the same few sentences over and over but it gave him hope. A group of truckers were headed to Lakota, Oklahoma and they were going to set up a safe area. All were welcome.

  They needed supplies if they were going to make the trip. He had cleaned out every house for miles and they hadn’t provided much anyway. Usually just a handful of canned goods the wildlife couldn’t get into. Mice and squirrels and insects were taking over and tearing into the boxes of cereal or bags of rice or cartons of noodles. The children were thin as rails and had been sleeping a lot, they were all slowly starving to death. They needed sustenance. They needed food. They needed to be strong. Anything could happen along the way and they needed to be able to run if they had to. The trip might take days, maybe even weeks. They had no idea what the roads would be like or how many of the undead they would encounter. They might have to backtrack a lot to avoid the hordes.

  Chris was going farther this time, they needed real food. He was going to take their truck and go into town to the store, make a big haul, get everything they needed. He wasn’t a mechanic and didn’t know much about cars. He took it to the dealer to get serviced and called triple A if he had a flat. He could figure things out, though. He knew he needed more between him and the undead than a thin pane of glass. He covered the windows with strips of metal and added a big push bar to the bumper to protect the radiator. The truck didn’t crank when he was ready to test it, the battery had drained. He had to take one out of a neighbors’ old Ford tractor.

  “All of the batteries will be dead.” he’d said. “I should have thought about it and disconnected them
. The cars clocks and computers and who knows what else is a constant drain on them. I’ll stop at a parts store and get us a new one.”

  He should have been back an hour ago.

  She checked on the children. Caleb, Landon and Clara were playing with Legos in the basement. Caleb was her only child and the other two were her niece and nephew but they were hers now and had started calling her mommy. At the tender ages of six and seven, they were inseparable, Caleb and Landon born only days apart and Clara, less than a year younger.

  They’d been locked inside, mostly staying downstairs and being quiet for what seemed like months. The kids learned quickly that it wasn’t a game. They saw for themselves a few days after it all began and Landon and Clara were still crying for their mother. A horde came screeching down the road chasing somebody in a car. A neighbor down the way making his escape. They saw the bloody crowd with ripped open bellies, torn off faces and missing arms. They heard the keens and cries of hunger and watched in revulsion as the broken things too damaged to walk dragged their way down the road leaving smears of gore behind them.

  They stopped asking about their mother and they became very, very good at keeping quiet.

  Chris been gone too long, she thought again for the thousandth time. It had been hours since he’d left that morning with his homemade armor. She had sewn pieces of carpet to the sleeves of his work jacket to stop those things from biting him. It was already after lunchtime and Putnam was only a half hour away. He should have been back, been with her and the children by now. She gripped the key fob to the BMW parked across the street. If he came running with the crazies on his tail, she’d hit the alarm, hopefully distracting them enough for Chris to make it to safety. If there was any juice left in its battery.

  Where is he? She repeated to herself over and over, glancing at the clock on the mantle every few minutes.