Dead: Siege & Survival

by TW Brown

  A god, Aaheru mused. The pharaohs of old were considered the representations of the gods on Earth. Their edicts were not placed before anyone for approval. They simply were law. The time had come for Aaheru to demonstrate his power.

  He looked across the parking lot to the bus being loaded with all the women—the Mothers of Egypt as he had named the remaining women of child birthing age. Standing beside the door was Markata.

  Since almost the first day he had arrived, Markata had used his conniving ways to avoid any sort of work. It came as no surprise that he had been a cabinet member under the Egyptian president. That entire administration had spent years weakening Egypt’s standing in the world. They had abused the people and used the military like a father’s correctional rod. Unfortunately for Markata, he thought things like paper money still had meaning.

  When the first man had come to him and reported that Markata had offered him useless paper to be eyes and ears around camp, Aaheru had told the man to accept the offer. That man had found himself living in one of the nicer tents and having extra portions of food and water. That, Aaheru chuckled inwardly, was the new currency.

  Food, water…and women.

  All of those were under Aaheru’s control despite what Markata believed. When the first rumblings of insurrection surfaced, Aaheru welcomed them with what was almost able to be called relief. So he waited for the perfect moment. It was important that his message be seen, heard, and felt by all.

  “The women are all on the bus,” Ahi said. He had come up beside Aaheru unnoticed. “Markata has all of our women…and he will make an attempt to break away from the caravan the first sign of trouble. We will not be able to avoid some rather tense moments during this journey. The opportunity will present itself, Pharaoh.”

  “Yes…it will,” Aaheru said with a smile. “Now please see to it that everybody is loaded up and that we are ready to depart in the next five minutes.”

  Ahi nodded in affirmation. He knew better than to say anything more. It was clear that Aaheru remained unconcerned about Markata. Perhaps he did not value the women as he claimed…or perhaps he had some sort of an arrangement with the man and chose not to divulge the details to a simple underling.

  Growing up as a homosexual male in Egypt, being paranoid had become an art as well as a way of life. The laws strictly prohibited such things and the current regime…former regime, Ahi reminded himself, maintained that they were punishable by death. It was all kept very quiet to avoid any sort of global intervention, but the secret police made many late night visits to individuals who were reported. None of the men Ahi knew that had been “taken in for questioning” were ever seen or heard from again. Perhaps this was just another case of being paranoid.

  It took a little longer than desired, but eventually, the convoy rolled out of the parking lot. The first few blocks were almost like a normal early morning drive. They only had to weave around a few abandoned vehicles until they hit the highway that would lead directly to the waterfront. Having used it a few times already as supplies were ferried to the ships that awaited their arrival, the zombie traffic was a problem early on.

  On the roof of every vehicle were men who Aaheru handpicked to dispatch the walking dead that might manage to gain a hand hold on any of the vehicles. On the lead vehicles, each of the men had a black case with several pipe bombs made with propane canisters. If the concentration became too great, it was hoped that they would be able to blow a hole big enough to drive through.

  Aaheru was in an armored bank truck and just two vehicles behind Markata. He watched everything with intense interest. He was confident in his intelligence reports regarding the man, but had he missed anybody? For the first time, he felt like little more than a soldier in the Egyptian Army. He had been given orders, and he followed them without question. Now…he was giving them.

  Just ahead, one of the men atop the rickety van lost his footing and fell over the side. A sea of undead arms that waved back and forth like stalks of wheat in the wind caught the man, he vanished from sight in seconds. There were so many of those walking abominations that Aaheru could not even hear the man’s final screams.

  The caravan had slowed to a crawl by now. As they passed an on-ramp, it looked like Markata had chosen the time and place to make his move. He veered to the right just as the front end of the convoy emerged from the first huge mob.

  The bus made a wide U-turn and headed for the ramp. Aaheru was impressed. There was no way anybody could react in time and at the top of that ramp was a business complex that would be easy to hide in. Markata had indeed thought this out.

  Well…almost, Aaheru thought as a huge smile spread across his normally serious countenance.

  The bus accelerated right after a man’s body tumbled out the door and rolled several times on the road before coming to an awkward halt up against the burned out husk of a compact car that looked more like a toy than a means of transportation.

  Just as it reached the crest, there was a huge explosion. The bus literally broke in half and both pieces spun away in flames. An oily black cloud rose in a thin column that resembled an accusatory finger that pointed at the heavens.

  The caravan began to increase speed as many of the walking dead that barred the way turned or veered off towards this most recent stimulus. Aaheru glanced back at Ahi, his smile still wide enough to cause his cheeks to cramp.

  ***

  “We’re just trying to be helpful,” one of the older boys, no older than eighteen, spoke up. “But if you’d rather stay here…” He looked past Juan, April, and Al at the seemingly never-ending wave of undead flowing down the hill and across the four sets of train tracks.

  “No, we’d love a ride in our boats,” Juan said as he jumped to the ground.

  “Ain’t no our or my anymore,” one of the girls snapped.

  “Cool it, Betty,” the first young man said. He turned back to Juan who was helping April down. “You two can come, but we can’t let your other friend on board.”

  Juan looked down at Al. His eyes told the story. The young man was infected, of that there was no doubt.

  “We can’t just leave him like that,” April insisted.

  “You don’t have time to debate this.” The boy reached out a hand as the other three boats began to pull away from the shore.

  Juan looked back at Al. He could see the fear in his eyes. There was no way he could leave the man behind to be torn apart and eaten alive, but he wasn’t about to stay. He made eye contact with the youngster in the boat and nodded. Juan grabbed April and shoved her forward into the boat. He hopped in behind her as the report from a high caliber rifle drowned out any protests.

  The boat lurched and then spun around to take them out into the river. Juan sat up as April shoved him and scrambled out from underneath. She looked back to shore just in time to see Al disappear under a swarm of zombies.

  “Would you rather he be alive for that?” Juan said in answer to her angry glare.

  “So where did you folks come from?” the boy asked.

  “You mean in our boat?” Juan shot a withering glance at the one called Betty. “How about we exchange names first.”

  “My name is Frank.”

  “Juan Hoya, and this is Amber.”

  “April,” she whispered,

  “April,” Juan corrected.

  “Well I could give you everybody else’s names but it wouldn’t much matter would it?” Frank laughed and flashed a smile at April who smiled back oblivious to Betty’s glare.

  “It’s been a rough afternoon,” Juan grumbled.

  “So what were you guys doing down by the old lumber treatment facility?” Frank asked.

  “Actually we were trying to make a run on the Freddie’s,” Juan explained.

  “That many zombies came out of Freddie’s?” Betty exclaimed.

  “No,” Juan turned to the girl, “they came from somewhere and followed us. We lost most of our group.”

  “So where did you guys come fr
om?” Frank asked.

  “Sauvie Island,” April spoke up.

  “And what was the deal with you guys chasing that dog?” Juan asked. “You guys planning on eating him?”

  “First off,” Betty snickered, “he is a she. And Gidget is immune to the bite. We just took the bandages off her leg and she took off and went straight to the water.”

  “So you guys are kinda young,” April made the blatant observation.

  “We were counselors at Outdoor School,” Frank explained.

  “Huh?” Juan scratched his head.

  “It’s a program with the area schools where they send sixth graders to camp where they learn about nature and ecology in the best classroom in the world,” Betty said.

  “The local high schools provide the counselors,” Frank continued. “I went as a kid and couldn’t wait to be a counselor. We were waiting for the busses when Mr. Zachery showed up in his car with the news…we thought it was a prank. There are no televisions and we are required to turn in our phones and stuff, so we really didn’t know.”

  “We stayed up at the camp until we ran out of food,” one of the other boys said. “There was plenty of stuff in the woods that we could forage, but Mr. Zachery insisted that we try and sneak down into the closest town; Troutdale. It went badly. We lost over half of our numbers and Mr. Zachery. To make matters worse, we had used a school bus when we came down and it ended up in a ditch.”

  “So you kids have been living where?” Juan asked, not hiding how impressed he was with this group of youngsters.

  “An old warehouse just up the river a ways,” Frank said.

  “So what are you doing here besides chasing a dog?”

  “Donna, one of the girls in our group, took off in search of her brother. She said that he kept coming to her in her dreams and so she knew that he was alive and where to find him,” Frank answered.

  “Did you find her?” April asked.

  “No,” Betty whispered. “Gidget lost her scent almost as soon as we made it out of the parking lot.”

  The boat turned up river towards Sauvie Island. A somber silence fell over everybody as each considered the terrible losses of the past several hours. Juan looked over at April who had sunk down on the bench seat and closed her eyes. Flecks of blood were dried on her face and he could see a single tear trickling down her left cheek. Her wavy red hair was matted in places. How would he explain to everybody that the two of them were it? They were the only survivors of the failed expedition.

  “How many of you are on the island?” Frank scooted in next to Juan.

  “I don’t know,” Juan said with a shrug. “Twenty…thirty.”

  The two sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Juan peeked over at the young man a few times and could tell what was on his mind. He looked tired and like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. If he had been leading these other kids since this whole thing began, then what he had accomplished was nothing short of a miracle.

  They came up on the island just as the clouds drifted apart and the deep magenta color of the sky turned the water a bruised purple. The beach was empty, but Juan didn’t expect a welcoming committee. When the boat ran aground, Juan jumped out and extended a hand to April who declined.

  Great, he thought, she thinks I’m a bad guy. It couldn’t be helped. He had done what needed to be done and her anger would not convince him otherwise. He watched her start off across the beach after climbing through the fence.

  “So what gives with the fence?” Frank asked.

  “Keeps the deaders away,” Juan answered. “If there were a bunch, they could break through, but we shouldn’t see more than a couple at a time. We come around a few times a day to be sure, plus we have observation towers.”

  Juan considered the faces staring back at him. For the first time, he really looked at the kids in the boat. They all looked exhausted. There was something in their eyes that gave away more than their outward attempts at bravado.

  “You are welcome to stay here,” Juan said.

  He saw a different look from all of them at almost the same instance. Relief. Hope.

  “What about the others?” Frank asked.

  “We couldn’t just bail on them,” Betty added.

  “The offer is open to all of you,” Juan said. He saw them all look to Frank, Juan decided that was good to know. However, at this exact moment, he just wanted to go home. He was exhausted.

  “Sort it out,” Juan said as he shook Frank’s hand. “I’m going home. I’ll see ya or I won’t…the choice is yours.”

  ***

  Chad looked out the window. The moon reflected off the snow giving everything a dazzling blue glow. Across the way he saw a shadow moving slowly along the roof.

  “There.” He pointed for Scott’s benefit.

  Scott nodded and drew back on the heavy compound bow. There was a hiss as the arrow sped away towards its target. A strangled cry told them that the target had been hit. The shadow disappeared for just a second, but rose up. Both men watched as it obviously struggled with a few steps before falling. After several seconds, it was obvious that whoever it was would not be getting back up.

  A shrill whistle broke the silence and both men jumped. Obviously on cue, a pair of flaming bottles arced through the air and exploded against the front of their hotel in a gout of orange flame.

  “Be ready,” Chad hissed.

  Scott had already nocked another arrow and was scanning the grounds. He pivoted with the bow, trying to sweep the full hundred and eighty degrees before him.

  “Damn all these trees,” Scott complained.

  “Maybe we should—” Chad was cut off by a whoop of some sort followed by the clang of metal on metal.

  “If this is what it was like in medieval times…it is a wonder we survived this long as a species,” Scott grumbled.

  “If we keep this up…we won’t need to worry about it much longer,” Chad said as he ducked just as an arrow bored into the wooden front of the building.

  A yelp sounded from the dense group of trees to their right. Chad thought it sounded female. That made him immediately think of his daughter. Ronni was holed up in one of the enormous honeymoon suites on the top floor just under their feet. Never had he felt so far away from her while being so near.

  Down below, three people emerged from the hotel. Two held detached doors that acted as shields from any sort of projectiles that might be launched as the other began scooping and tossing bucket of snow on the flames.

  “They should start getting really desperate soon,” Scott said as he held the fletching of the arrow against his cheek for a second before letting go. His shot was high and the figure he’d targeted scurried back into the impenetrable gloom of the shadows.

  “I can’t believe that all of the food was stored in this hotel.” Chad breathed a sigh of relief once the fires had been extinguished. He’d been so involved in watching the operation down below that he had forgotten about the flaming arrow burning just over the side and hastily yanked it free and tossed it out into the snow.

  “I don’t think anybody planned for a civil war.”

  “Maybe not, but what if we got trapped inside by a huge mob…if you are in the wrong building you would be screwed.”

  “If it got to that, I think we would all be screwed anyways,” Scott snorted. “Once those things get your scent or whatever…they don’t let up.”

  The two men sat in silence for a few moments as they scanned the grounds. Night time was the only time when either side attacked the other. It was the only time when there might be even a glimmer of a chance for success.

  Dark shadows could be seen scurrying from one place to another. Most of the movement came from the other faction. Chad’s group had the food, so they were mostly content with protecting it. They had a few people out on patrol, but that was about it. Of course there were also the individuals that took it upon themselves to wage their own private war. Chad hadn’t seen any logic or reason for such act
ions, but he was not about to tell anybody else what they could and couldn’t or should and shouldn’t do.

  “How long you figure they’ve been without anything?” Chad finally asked.

  “If you believe that guy Clark, then it has been at least three days.”

  “What has you and Brett so twisted about this guy?” Chad asked.

  “He’s military, but he says that he didn’t realize what those bastards were doing until after the fact.”

  “If his job was strictly security like he says, then why would he know?”

  “Plus the simple fact that he was involved in that whole thing to begin with,” Scott insisted. “It wasn’t right in any sense, and had things not shaken down the way they did…he would still be with them sitting on all the supplies and acting like he was lord of the manor.”

  “Lord of the manor?” Chad laughed.

  “You know what I mean.”

  A huge explosion caused both men to start. Towards the center of the village, an enormous ball of flame rolled skyward. The entire eastern horizon was silhouette against the bright light of flame for a few seconds. That was all it took for Chad to see the hundreds of dark figures heading their way.

  “Jesus,” Scott breathed.

  The door to the roof flew open and Brett was standing there with Michael at his side. Brett was far more out of breath between the two and stepped out of the way.

  “We have big trouble.” Michael’s face was shining in the glow of the flames. Steam rolled off of him in wisps that were carried away in the wind.

  “No kidding,” Scott snapped.

  “What is the problem?” Chad asked, shooting a scowl in Scott’s direction.

  “There is a freaking thousand of those things coming up Village Drive,” Michael answered.

  “What!” Chad exclaimed.

  “I told you that all of the noise from the fighting here would bring them,” Michael reminded.