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

by Simpson, David A.

  Gordon described each of the girls, detailing their looks and ages, exaggerating a little on the size of their boobs. The rest of the survivors joined them and listened raptly as he spun a story of how good it would be if they captured all of them and made them do all the hard work.

  “They could keep this place clean.” he said. “They could fetch water and cook and whatever else we wanted them to do.”

  More nods, more drunken cheers.

  “You mean like slaves?” Tasha or Sasha asked

  “Nah, they’d be like hired help.” Richard said. “Instead of money, they get paid with a roof over their head and protection from the zombies. Sounds like a fair trade.”

  “And like any good servant, we can do whatever we want and they can’t say a damn thing about it.” Skull said to the laughter of the others.

  He and his father were known for forcing themselves on their cleaning staff. Mr. Abelson only hired illegal aliens who had no choice but to comply or have immigration called on them.

  The party kicked into high gear when one of the girls brought out a bottle of tramadol stolen from someone’s medicine cabinet. She crushed it on the coffee table and they gathered around to snort long lines of it.

  Richards step mom and another one of his crew came out of a room and joined them. He had a big smirk on his face as she adjusted her mini skirt, pulling it down to cover most of her thighs. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey and gargled then swallowed. A moment later, Gordon’s step mom came out of the same room, spotted the lines on the coffee table and made a bee line for them.

  Richard winked at the stupefied look on Gordons face and explained it away. “They didn’t want to leave.”

  “But that’s Misty. She’s your mom.” Gordon said. “And my mom, too.”

  “No, they’re not, Gordy.” Richard said harshly. “They were both gold diggers and they still are. Hell, both of them are young enough to be our dads’ kids, not their wives. They made their choice, they’re free to leave anytime if they don’t like it.”

  “That’s not a choice.” Gordon said.

  “You’re still young.” Richard said and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll figure it out. There aren’t any rules anymore.”

  “Where is your dad?” Gordon asked. “He wasn’t out of town on business, was he?”

  Richard pointed to one of the creatures crawling along the bottom of the pool.

  “He was one of men who tried to take over. Tried to tell us what to do. Tried to lay down some rules. There are no more rules, Gordy. You can do whatever you want to whoever you want. That’s the new reality.”

  He hit the remote on the pool cover to hide them away again then walked over and to grab his step mom. He pulled her towards the bedroom and she followed along, wiping the dust from her nose.

  Gordon mingled, stayed mostly sober and when Richard came out of the bedroom an hour later, he learned why there were only a bunch of jocks and a few girls left inside the gates.

  Most of Richard and his teammates had been passed out at his house after a wild post-game party. The mansion sat well off the road and had its own gate at the end of a long driveway. Decorative shrubbery hid the fencing and the undead ran past it, following the sounds of screams or racing engines. The outbreak started early as it did everywhere else with breakfast and it didn’t take long for most of the gated community to be affected. The first minutes of the outbreak had neighbors stepping outside to see what the noise was all about or rushing to aid bleeding neighbors. Those staring in horror out of the windows and trying to call the authorities were seen and the growing horde crashed through to bite and rend and add to their numbers. Some managed to get in their cars and flee with hundreds of undead chasing them. The sensors kept the exit gate open until most of the zombies were gone and before any of the teenagers woke late in the afternoon, the battle for Smiths Landing was over.

  It took the hungover teens a long time to come to grips with what had happened but Richard rallied them, kept them in booze and drugs for days until it became their new normal.

  Wake up whenever. Take a pill or two to dull the pain. Bloody Mary’s for breakfast and start the party again. When the electricity went out the generator kicked on automatically and the party continued for another week until the fuel was gone. After that, they had to be careful and turn off some of the electrical things like the hot tub and space heaters. The solar panels couldn’t keep up with the demand.

  When the booze and his pill supply ran out, some of the undead were still inside the fences of the Landing and outside the gates of his home. They took his fathers guns and killed them. When they started raiding the other houses for more party supplies, they found other survivors huddling inside. Men who tried to shame them for their behavior and tell them what to do. Men who tried to take the guns away and demanded they stop pillaging everyone’s house. It was so long ago Richard claimed he could barely remember it; the whole incident was a hazy half memory. He didn’t know who fired first, it may have even been an accident, but when the shooting was done, a dozen people were dead. They drank more, smoked more and took more pills to erase the ugly afternoon from their minds. Their blood lust was up and they took the women by force. Outnumbered and outgunned, they ran the men out of the gates. The women and girls who stayed could have followed, they weren’t guarded or kept in chains, but chose not to. They grabbed a bottle and joined the party. It was better than being dead.

  The houses were loaded with food and valuables. Prescription meds and stashes of weed and cocaine the upstanding citizens of Smith’s Landing hid from their neighbors behind closed doors. Liquor cabinets were filled with the best booze. Freezers were full of steak and lobsters, all there for the taking. During a moment of clarity, Richard had organized a gathering of all the food and made sure the perishables were stored in freezers of the homes with solar panels. They had a lot when the job was finished. Entire rooms full of canned and boxed goods, deep freezers full of meat and case after case of booze.

  Richards house remained as their main residence, there was plenty of room for them and it had more solar panels than all the others, except for maybe Gordon’s place. With the big banks of batteries charged from the sun providing the power, running water and hot showers were available for all. From the unwashed smell, Gordon didn’t think most of them were taking advantage of the opportunity. He would kill for a hot shower. The memory of weeks of washing in cold well water from the pump in the kitchen of the old house were still fresh in his head.

  The party was winding down near dawn and as Gordon was rewrapping his hand with a fresh bandage Richard wandered over and sat beside him.

  . “Who’s in charge?” Gordon asked.

  “Nobody, everybody, hell who cares,” Richard said, shrugging his shoulders. “You wanna be in charge Gordy?”

  Gordon bristled at the nickname. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Ok, bro, don’t be so uptight. You wanna be in charge? You wanna run this band of miscreants and delinquents?” Richard laughed.

  “Somebody has to.” Gordon said. “You can’t keep this up.”

  “Why not?” Richard asked. “It’s working out just fine. We got you here, now. A zombie killing badass. When we run out of booze, you can get us more.”

  “Maybe.” Gordon said “But there are other things to consider. Where is the water coming from? When is it going to run out?”

  “You worry too much but that’s okay. Maybe we need that. Hey everybody!” Richard shouted to get their attention. “Gordon is in charge!”

  Tired whistles and whoops rang out as everyone cheered and then they went back to whatever it was they were doing. For most of them, it was going back to sleep.

  37

  Gordon

  Everyone in the Landing agreed they needed to go and teach the brats a lesson and get themselves some new servants but no one wanted to actually do it. Maybe tomorrow, man, was the answer whenever he brought it up. They were too busy having fun and besides, there
were zombies out there. They had everything they needed and so far, no one had dared venture outside the fences. It was too risky. The quads were fast on the roads, pretty good in the fields but there were long miles of deep woods along the road. They couldn’t plow their way through the underbrush and fallen trees. If they met a horde, they might be in trouble. A big pack of four wheelers couldn’t get turned around fast enough. They would get overrun.

  Gordon was a few years younger than the rest of them but they quickly learned that he was a stone-cold killer. He went out alone and speared nearly all of the undead at the front gate and took it upon himself to patrol the perimeter fence. A tree had toppled over and a whole section was down. They had been lucky all the undead were attracted to the bonfire and hadn’t wandered along the fence line. Using one of the side by side four wheelers and its winch, he and Skull made the repairs. Gordon gained their wary respect and Richard let him do whatever he wanted. The kid was taking care of things and as long as he didn’t get too big for his britches, he would let him think he was running the show. It was easier to have him voluntarily do all the work than try to get somebody to sober up long enough.

  Richard didn’t trust Gordon completely. He still remembered him as the spoiled, overweight tattletale who would say anything to get what he wanted. He wasn’t sure how much of the story Gordy told was true but the kid had got hard, that was obvious. He wasn’t the same whiney brat. Before he committed his men to an all-out assault, especially if they really did have trained attack animals, he wanted one of his guys to check it out. He wanted a second opinion.

  One of his best men was Smoke, the only guy he trusted to watch the back gate. He’d been worried about some of the angry residents that he’d kicked out coming back with guns but so far they hadn’t. He didn’t have much ammo left, not enough to have a gun battle with anyone. The whole development had been advertised as an environmentally friendly green community and had attracted a lot of progressive families. Richard didn’t care one way or another how anyone voted but wished there had been a few more NRA members living here. At least there would have been more guns. All they found were a few pistols and the rifles from his dad and uncle. It had been weeks since he’d run them out though and they were probably dead by now. It was probably safe to stop guarding the rear entrance. Richard told Smoke to sober up and go with Gordy, he wanted a full report.

  The ride down to the park only took a few hours on the quad. It could easily go fifty miles an hour on the clear sections. Gordon had been full of bravado when they left but the closer they got, the more the old doubts and fears crept back in. He couldn’t let it show, couldn’t display weakness in front of the older boy. He had his nickel-plated revolver; he wasn’t afraid of the undead. They were pretty slow, the cold weather seemed to be affecting them and, in a worst-case scenario, he could always shoot Smoke and let them attack him while he got away.

  They parked a good distance from the back gate and snuck up through the woods. He knew Swan and Donny hunted at night so the only thing they had to worry about was the roaming fence checker. They waited and watched for a few minutes and when no one came from either direction Gordon pulled the wire snips from his pocket and cut the retaining clips down low. They slid under the wire, stayed crouched in the tall grass and ran across the field. Smoke was amazed at the gazelles and antelopes who raised their heads and watched them.

  “I didn’t even know this place was here.” he said. “They let the all the animals run loose?”

  “Yeah.” Gordon replied “There’s bears and panthers and wolves so keep low and keep quiet. We can see the main house from that hill up there. That’s as close as I want to get.”

  They stood by a lone tree on the rise and shaded their eyes, trying to see the house a half mile distant. As they watched, the Twins came into view riding their polar bears. They had come from their river traps with a basket of fish.

  “No fragging way.” Smoke said. “They set those things on you?”

  It took Gordon a moment to remember the lie he’d told then nodded his head.

  “Right after they killed my lion.” he said, “And look, see that crazy looking girl with the wolves? She’s the worst of all of them. She’s going to be my personal slave. I’m going to beat that bitch every day.”

  Donny followed her out of the house with Yewan padding beside him.

  “I don’t know, man.” Smoke said. “We can’t fight against that. I mean, look at them. I’m sorry they turned on you Gordon but they’d wipe us out.”

  One of wolves raised his head and sniffed the air then looked in their direction.

  “Get down!” Gordon hissed and they both dropped below the waist high grass.

  “Think they saw us?”

  “I don’t know.” Gordon said, “But let’s get out of here.”

  They ran hunched over and tried to stay out of sight.

  “We’re going to pass on this one.” Smoke said as they neared the fence. “I’m telling Richard he’s going to have to do without these girls.”

  When they stood upright both were surprised to see Harper examining the fence where they’d cut their way in. She whirled and had her blade in her hand while they both stared at her in shock. Bert stomped a hoof at them and while Smoke gaped skyward at the towering giraffe, Gordon pulled his pistol and aimed it at her.

  “Drop it.” he said, and a smile crept across his lips. “Or I’ll shoot.”

  What kind of good luck was this? His Harper had appeared like a gift wrapped present.

  “I’ll chop your face off before you can pull the trigger.” Harper spat.

  Smoke glanced over at Gordon. “This was your girlfriend?” he asked.

  Harper snorted in derision.

  “That’s what lazy ass has been telling you?” she asked, “Can’t wait to hear what else he’s said. I wouldn’t date that back stabbing piece of crap if he were the last person on earth.”

  Gordons face reddened as Smoke looked back and forth between them.

  “She just needs to be disciplined.” he said, and moved the gun over to aim it at Bert then watched as her eyes got big.

  “I said drop it.” his grin came back, “Or I’ll shoot.”

  “Don’t Gordon.” she said and color drained from her face because she knew he was capable of it. He would do it just out of meanness. “Please.”

  She lowered the blade, let it drop to the ground and raised her hands.

  “You’re coming with us.” he announced, “Cuff her, Smoke.”

  “A feisty one. I think I like it.” he said, and unhooked the handcuffs he wore dangling from his belt loop.

  Harper tried to pull away as he neared.

  “Knock it off.” Gordon yelled and took a step closer. “I’ll blow him away and you know I will.”

  Something moved in his peripheral vision and he looked back at the giraffe just in time to see its big head swinging right for him. Gordon didn’t have time to react before he felt a sledgehammer blow slam into him. The gun went off as it flew out of his hand and he went sprawling backward to bounce off the fence some eight feet in the air. Smoke started to yell something but the words were abruptly cut off when Bert kicked out with a twelve-inch hoof nearly as big as his head. There was a nasty, wet crunching sound as a surprised face turned into splintered bone and bloody gristle. Smoke’s neck snapped as his head was nearly knocked completely off. He was dead before he crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap.

  Yewan and the wolves arrived first with Donny and Swan close behind. Gordon was trying to suck in air but all he could pull in were tiny little gasps. If he hadn’t been wearing his armor, his ribcage would have been splintered like matchsticks. He grasped at the fence to pull himself up but a snarling face inches from his froze him in place. He eased back down and Lucy’s growl was replaced by Swans. She looked wilder than ever and her teeth were bared. Gordon was afraid she might snap and bite his nose off.

  “I didn’t…” he started to say but her growl grew
more insistent and Zero moved to within an inch of his face. The warm air of their snarls blew across his cheeks and he closed his eyes. He was going to die, ripped to shreds by the wolf girl and her pack. His bladder let go and Swan jumped back.

  “Gross, Gordy.” she spat, “You’re a disgusting pig.”

  “Call them off, Swan.” Cody said when he came up, panting from the long run.

  A gentle hand on their necks was all it took and the wolves went over to sniff at the dead boy.

  “Donny, can you and Vanessa help Harper catch Bert. The shot scared him, I don’t want him to hurt himself.”

  Donny nodded and took off on a path to intercept the spooked giraffe. Vanessa swung herself onto Ziggy’s back and they raced away to cut him off before he slammed full speed into a fence or broke a leg in the marshy areas near the river.

  “What do you want me to do?” Swan asked.

  “Stay here and look scary.” Cody replied.

  She smiled, pulled a tomahawk and squatted in front of Gordon.

  Cody saw the handcuffs and tossed them to her. She snapped one end around Gordon’s wrist, the other through the chain link. Cody scanned the horizon for the polar bears and Otis. When they’d heard the gunfire, they’d ran the other way.

  “Big babies.” he muttered.

  He saw Bert’s tall head disappear over the rise and sighed. It might be a while before they got him calmed down. The bears were probably inside the house, they’d be fine. He turned back to Gordon and crossed his arms.

  “I told you I would let Swan and Donny carry out judgement if they caught you inside the fences.” he said, “I think your five minutes were up a long time ago.”

  Gordon struggled to his feet, and grimaced at the pain. He felt like he had busted ribs, armor or not.

  “They made me.” he blurted out. The first words that came to mind. “Him and his buddies.”