The Wilsons' Saga (Book 1): The Journey Home

by Gibb, Lew

  The other discovery was a fourteen-year-old boy named Sam. The lanky, shaggy-haired kid had been visiting his grandparents on the third floor when the zombie outbreak arrived and turned both grandparents into zombies. Somehow, he’d been able to herd them into their bedroom using a chair and a broom.

  “They were both super old,” he said. “So they were pretty easy to move around.”

  After spending the morning clearing three floors, where they found twelve cases of bottled water and enough dried beans and rice to last for months, they reconvened in Jerry’s unit for lunch. The meal was supplied by Maria, who had assumed the job of group chef, with the help of Artie and Sam. While they ate scattered around on chairs and the sofa, they discussed a plan for entering the units with locked doors.

  “Jerry,” Alberto set his burrito down on a paper plate and squinted, “you said the walls had two layers of drywall to mute the sound. Is there any other sound mitigation?”

  “I think there might be insulation. I haven’t heard my neighbors hardly at all.”

  Alberto continued. “I think we can cut the drywall between units and enter through a small opening. That way we do not have to break through locked and possibly dead-bolted doors in metal frames without tools. It would also give us a way of moving around without using the halls should the building be entered by someone wishing to do us harm. We could either escape through the unit next door or use it as a means of coming around behind the attacker.”

  Jerry liked the idea. He wasn’t convinced other humans wouldn’t turn out to be a worse problem than the zombies.

  “Speaking of attackers,” Zach said, “we should post a lookout. There could be bad people moving around the city.”

  “Or there could be some of them right here,” Tracy said, giving Zach the evil eye. Jerry worried her grudge against Zach, while somewhat justified, would cause the group trouble.

  Zach flinched slightly but continued. “Or there could be huge masses of zombies. At the very least, having someone up on the roof with some binoculars will give us an early warning system.” He seemed to be hoping if he didn’t rise to the bait, Tracy might get tired of hating him.

  “That is a good idea,” Alberto answered. “Can we get on the roof?”

  “There’s a door at the top of the west stair,” Jerry said. “We’ll probably have to force it open.”

  Chapter Sixty-One

  As they approached the porch, Rachel could see that their savior was a beefy guy in his mid-sixties decked head-to-toe in camouflage.

  “This guy could be Bob’s father,” she whispered.

  “What was that?” The man’s voice was gruff and rasping, exactly as she would have expected. The military-style assault rifle with the scope on top wasn’t pointed directly at them, but she had no doubt he could bring it around in a hurry.

  “I said,” Rachel spoke softly, “we don’t want any trouble.”

  “Girl, you already got trouble.” His cheeks moved, and his teeth were barely visible for a fraction of a second through the bushy white whiskers surrounding his mouth. Rachel decided to interpret the squint in his eyes as a smile. “If you don’t want more of it, you’ll get in the house before more of them things come around.” He didn’t move; apparently, he was waiting for them to move first.

  Rachel looked at Clay, eyebrows raised.

  He shrugged. “If he wanted to shoot us, he could do it any time.”

  “You got that right, boy.” That squint again. Definitely a smile. “Now, move those skinny bones. Don’t make me waste more ammo saving your butts again.”

  Rachel and Clay hurried past him and through the front door. The smell of decaying corpses was so strong, her vision blurred as she entered the house. Three bodies in various states of dismemberment lay in the living room to her left.

  The man closed the door and turned to face them. “Sorry about the smell. This house had the best firing position. You two got names?”

  “I’m Rachel, and this is Clay. Thanks for your help out there.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said with a shake of his head. “Although judging by the way the two of you were shooting up the place, I might have been better off letting them get you. Don’t you know they’re attracted to sound?”

  “We know that.” Rachel shook her head. “They were riled up, as you say, before we started shooting. They attacked us at the pharmacy. We’ve just been trying to escape.”

  “And what was so important at the pharmacy?” He gave them a hard stare like they were a particularly naggy-looking pair of horses he wasn’t too excited about buying. “You drug addicts or something?”

  “Do we look like drug addicts?” Clay held his arms out at his sides.

  “Actually, you look like a convict with them muscles.” He nodded at Rachel. “And she looks like an escaped lunatic with that blood on her and her hair sticking out every which way.”

  Rachel reached a hand up and tried to smooth her hair. “I haven’t had a lot of time for primping the last couple of days.” Her fingers got hung up right away. She probably did have a dreadlock or two forming. She’d have to find a brush somewhere when she wasn’t running for her life.

  He nodded and smiled again. “I don’t suppose you have. What were you doing there then?”

  “We were getting painkillers for…” Rachel didn’t know what to call Andy. He wasn’t really a friend. Brent definitely was. Maybe someday. Cindy? Kill me now “For a guy who hurt his leg,” was the best she could muster.

  The guy shifted from foot to foot, and she couldn’t tell whether he believed her or not.

  “So, what’s your name?” Clay said, finally dropping his hands to his sides. “And what were you doing here? Just sitting around waiting for someone to rescue?”

  The eyes crinkled a little deeper. “Name’s Brian. I was doing some scavenging myself.” He turned and peered out the window beside the door. After about ten seconds, he nodded and returned his attention to Rachel and Clay. “Much quieter than you two, I have to say.”

  Rachel looked over his shoulder at the window. “We’re sorry about that. We didn’t expect it to bring so many of them so fast.”

  Brian’s face softened. “It’s not really your fault. I think they were already here. For some reason, the ones out on the highway seem to be funneling in here. You two were just unlucky enough to be close to them.”

  “You think they were already gathered into a big group?” Clay said.

  “Yep. I seen a big bunch of them moving around yesterday. Managed to avoid them. But they were here.”

  Rachel wondered if they could sneak out the back door and make their way back to Cindy and her family. She wasn’t sure which way that was. “Well, thanks again for your help.”

  “Like my old granddad used to say, ‘You can’t buy a single bottle of whiskey with all the thanks in the world.’” Brian smiled and pointed at their duffel bags. “You two manage to get any antibiotics in your little robbery?”

  “We did,” Rachel said, gripping the strap across her chest. “What did you have in mind?” Would this be the part where he tried to take their bags and their weapons?

  Brian seemed to understand her apprehension. His teeth flashed again. “Just a little trade. Since I saved your butts, you might want to show your gratitude by sharing a little of your booty.”

  “Aha, extortion,” Clay said, but with a smile.

  “I’m just saying, if you two want to do something nice for me, well, that just seems to be the neighborly thing to do.”

  “So we’re free to walk out that door with the medicine?”

  “Why wouldn’t you be? This ain’t some made-for-TV movie where everyone is all-of-a-sudden a rampaging asshole.”

  “Sorry,” Rachel said. She unslung the duffel, dropped it on the coffee table with a rattle, and unzipped it. “My experience actually has been a little like a TV movie.” And a horror film added in. She wondered if her problems so far could have been an anomaly. Maybe everyone else w
ho had survived was gathering together and helping each other and singing songs and planting flowers. And maybe she could whistle don’t worry be happy out of her ass.

  “Sorry to hear that,” Brian said. “Maybe I was a little too abrupt. If you want to go on, I’m not going to stop you.”

  “Why don’t you come with us?” Clay said. “There’s safety in numbers. We’re going to meet Rachel’s husband and some people who actually prepared for this.”

  “No offense, but why didn’t everyone prepare for this? Well, not this exactly. But something like it was bound to happen sooner or later. Plain as day if you know your history. This country’s been in some kind of war or other ever since it was founded. The rest of the world, too. It wasn’t going to take much to knock things off the rails.” He shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but we’re fixed just fine. Except for maybe some antibiotics. Had some of my family get sick last year, and the wife dipped into my supply without telling me.”

  “I think we can spare some,” Rachel said. “You sure you wouldn’t want to join up with us? You’d get along great with my husband and his friend Bob.”

  “You seem like nice folks, but I got to take care of my family first.”

  Rachel dug out a large bottle of Keflexin. “Think this will do?”

  Brian’s eyes got wide, and he smiled. “That will do just fine. You wouldn’t happen to have a pacifier in there, would you? My granddaughter lost hers in all the commotion, and it’s a bear keeping her quiet without it.”

  “Sorry,” Rachel said. “I actually saw some in the pharmacy by the formula.”

  “Don’t hurt to ask. Maybe I’ll have to go over there once this zombie activity dies down. How’s it look out there, by the way?”

  Clay turned back from looking out the window. “There was a big bunch that went by a minute ago, moving south. I don’t see any others right now. Where do you think they all stay?”

  “Sorry. Haven’t had too much chance for reconnaissance. Or for figuring where the rest of them are.”

  “The rest?” Clay said, his eyes widening.

  Brian nodded. “You think that group chasing you was big? There was over two million people living in this area. The place should be absolutely lousy with them things. But near as I can figure, there ain’t even a fraction of that running around.”

  Rachel bit her lower lip. “I wonder if a lot of people are trapped in their houses or office buildings.”

  “Or cars,” Clay said.

  “Could be.” Brian squinted and shook his head. “I ain’t too fired up about investigating office buildings. No reason for it.” He stuffed the Keflexin in his cargo pocket. “If we’re lucky them things will all starve in there.”

  “Or eat each other,” Rachel said. “You think they might go cannibal? Come to think of it why haven’t they done that already?

  “That’s a happy thought” Brian said, squinting at her again. He stuffed a bit of cloth he’d pulled from a pocket in the pill bottle and dropped it in a leg pocket. “Anyway, I got to get going. My people will be worried after all that shooting.” He clipped the rifle to a strap hanging across his chest and pulled a big knife from a sheath fixed to a pack strap. The blade was serrated and had a matte-green finish except for the edge, which flashed when he turned for the back of the house. “Good luck to you. Thanks for the medicine.”

  Rachel and Clay followed Brian to the back door. He pushed it open and slipped out. Before Rachel knew it, he was across the lawn and had disappeared over the back fence. Rachel hoped he would be okay, but she couldn’t spend much time worrying about him. They had problems of their own.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  “It’s amazing how kids bounce back,” Jerry said, nodding at Isabella and Marco, who were taking turns throwing a ball for Kodi and playing rope-tug with Mandy.

  The group had taken Zach’s advice and created a protected courtyard by blocking the ends of the street running in front of Jerry’s building and the one next door with cars. The blockade came together quickly. All they had to do was put a little gas in the abandoned cars and drive them into position. The ones that didn’t have keys were simply left where they were if they were too hard to move in neutral. They left a space in the middle for another MRAP to be driven through later and also blocked the pedestrian ramp up from the creek. Fortunately, the few zombies that arrived while they worked did so in ones and twos, and one group of five. Jerry was already thinking of ways they could expand the area. Maybe use the overpass where Speer Avenue crossed the river to enclose the park on the other side of the creek. They could grow food there.

  “Yes,” Alberto said, nodding. “Once they know they are safe, they seem able to put bad things behind them.”

  Jerry smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. Just like the kids, his big, goofy dogs seemed able to forget the horrors of the past days and just enjoy chasing a ball down the street. His eyes were tearing up at the scene.

  “Children and dogs are great stress relievers,” Alberto said. “One can’t help but relax watching their unrestrained enjoyment of such simple games.” Alberto looked over at Jerry, and his brow furrowed. “But what about you, my friend? Are you able to put the past behind you?”

  “It’s not the past so much as the future.”

  Besides the blockade of cars, they had piled patio furniture dragged from the surrounding balconies between the cars and on top of them. Jerry didn’t think even a normal human, never mind a bunch of zombies, could climb the tangled mess without making enough noise to alert them in the courtyard.

  Alberto rested a hand on his shoulder. Jerry was surprised at how much comfort the gesture gave him. “You must have faith that your Rachel will survive.” And at how the man always seemed to know what he was thinking.

  “You sure you aren’t a psychologist?” Jerry said, shaking his head. Alberto radiated a sense of calm and imperturbability that seemed to rub off on everyone. He had even diffused some of the tension between Tracy and Zach. “I’m trying, but now I have to worry about these two.” Jerry scratched Mandy on the head as she circled back with the toy. “Kodi has a tendency to forget everything when he sees a rodent. He might accidentally run right into a zombie. Or they might both revert to their default behavior and just run up to a zombie for a pat.”

  “One can’t very well hold a leash in one hand and a sword in the other.”

  “No, that wouldn’t work very well.” Jerry grimaced at the image of his sword arm and his legs tangled in a pair of leashes while zombies closed in. “I guess I’ll have to trust them to know the difference between a human with good intentions and one who wants to eat them. Rachel’s always telling me what great judges of character they are.” If only she were here to talk him down.

  Marco threw the ball again, and Kodi took off, loping down the driveway after the bouncing ball with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. As he approached the cross-street, a slim zombie in tight jeans and a white t-shirt rounded the corner on the creek side of the building. Three more guys wearing skinny jeans and sporting creative facial hair appeared immediately behind him.

  Jerry’s mouth went dry, and his hands tingled as he reached over his shoulder to draw his claymore from the sheath he’d cobbled together from a leather jacket sleeve and some nylon webbing. In his peripheral vision, he saw Alberto scoop one wide-eyed child in each arm and run for the building. The over-the-shoulder draw worked as well as Jerry had hoped, and he gripped the sword in both hands, raising it to strike, as he sprinted after Kodi, yelling his name twice without any effect. In fact, the dog actually seemed to have sped up. Jerry’s heart tried to climb out of his chest as he watched Kodi heading straight for the lead zombie.

  Mandy passed Jerry, growling in a way Jerry had never heard from the good-natured dog.

  Jerry gritted his teeth and tried to speed up. He didn’t bother calling Mandy’s name. Rachel was the only one who could stop her when she had “target lock” on something. There was no wa
y he would be in time to save his friends, but he still hoped for a miracle. Maybe the dogs wouldn’t get close enough to the zombies. Maybe their fur would protect them. So many things zipped through his mind in the couple of seconds it took Kodi to close the distance.

  As it turned out, none of the miracles he imagined happened. What did happen was so much better. And almost more miraculous.

  When he was about ten feet from the lead zombie, Jerry’s lovable goofball made in a full-speed leap that transformed him into a hundred pounds of snarling dog-missile that slammed into the lead zombie’s chest so hard the guy’s porkpie hat popped straight in the air, and his feet flew up like he’d been clotheslined.

  Dog and zombie crashed first into one of the following hipster zombies and then the ground. Kodi already had the leader’s throat in his jaws. What he did to the zombie reminded Jerry of the way the dog treated a three-dollar stuffed squirrel. Kodi shook his head with big violent shakes, lowering his back end to get his weight into it, until his head jerked back. Blood fountained from both sides of the zombie’s neck. Kodi dropped a fist-sized hunk of flesh that Jerry would later discover was a six inch length of trachea and lunged for the zombie pinned beneath the now-dead leader, a guy with so many nose and lip piercings, Jerry thought they were facial hair.

  Jerry was still about twenty feet away when the third zombie, who had been knocked sideways, regained his balance and reached for Kodi.

  Jerry raised his sword and got ready to chop the attacker in half. But he knew he wouldn’t get there in time. Once more, what he thought would happen was so far from reality he never would have anticipated it.

  Mandy flew blasted into the zombie from the side, knocking him down and going straight for the throat, shaking so hard she was actually dragging the zombie along the ground by the time Jerry arrived. The emaciated zombie twisted and got to his hands and knees. He clawed at Mandy while blood poured from his neck, then collapsed.