Transformation: Zombie Crusade VI

by Vohs, J. W.

  Zach reached over and put his arm over Maddy. “You had some pretty crappy things happen to you before the outbreak—do you think your dad was fated to be a meth head? I don’t believe that for a second. I think people have choices. Luke has choices, you have choices, I have choices . . .”

  “But sometimes we don’t have choices—is that fate? I didn’t choose to not like boys, no matter what anybody says.”

  Zach hadn’t expected Maddy to bring up being gay; they’d never talked about it, but he’d always considered it a non-issue. He decided that this was one of those times he was supposed to be sensitive and reassuring. “You are who you are, and even though I give you a lot of grief, I wouldn’t change a thing about you if I could.”

  “You wouldn’t even make me taller? Some friend you turned out to be . . .” Maddy sounded satisfied and relived. “Do you ever wonder what your life would be like right now if the pandemic had never happened?”

  Zach yawned. “No point, Maddy. Sometimes you think too much.”

  She smiled in the darkness. “I’d rather think too much than not enough, but thanks for putting up with me tonight. You really are a great guy, no matter what I normally say.”

  “And I’m going to remind you of my greatness every chance I get, starting tomorrow. Now, just shut up so we can get some sleep.”

  As Terry had promised, he was standing at the edge of his new friends’ camp at sunrise. He had thirty-two others with him, including his little sister. As Luke had requested, the volunteers were all on the young side, ranging in age from fifteen to thirty-one years of age. Some of them were obviously married couples, but one thing they all had in common was that they had no children, and were eager to leave what had become home since the outbreak. Luke and his companions spent the morning meeting the new recruits and dividing them into small groups for basic skills assessments.

  Just after noon, word came that Jesse and his followers were set to be hanged at sunset. Terry explained, “Gladys announced the decision. She said that since there are no more prisons, a community has three choices now when a crime is committed: punishment and reinstatement, banishment, or death. The first option was out of the question in this case, and the second would have led to more people being victimized somewhere else if the criminals didn’t find a way back into their former settlement to cause trouble again. That left the council with only one choice.”

  Gracie tried to read Luke’s reaction, but it was difficult with his eyes hidden by sunglasses. She made it a point to sound casual when she asked, “So babe, are you okay with how this all turned out?”

  “I think I’d be really sad if I saw a shepherd kill a wolf trying to get at his flock. There’s nothing glorious in killing. But if the sheep are going to be protected, there will be bloodshed.” Luke made sure Maddy and Zach were listening before he continued, “For some reason, we humans always seem to have monsters among us. The only thing standing between the monsters this community have ordered executed and their would-be victims is the strength and determination of good people. I used to worry about killing bad guys; hunters, no problem, but killing humans really bothered me. I don’t feel that way anymore. I’m worried about Courtney and all of the others like her who can’t defend themselves yet against the predators.”

  “I think that’s a perfect cue for us to get back to work,” Maddy responded. “We’re trying to build an army of good guys here, remember?”

  Training the volunteers for combat and teaching the rest of the folks in the community about security and how to defend themselves was time-consuming and exhausting. Gracie and Luke seemed to have even less time alone in the settlement than they’d had on the road with Zach and Maddy. The newcomers were treated like royalty by the locals, with all the adoration and expectations that came with that dubious honor. People with problems to solve or stories to tell were waiting for the teens to retire to their tents every night, and the exhausted warriors were too polite to turn them away. Luke would stay up after they left, reading about military strategies and the development of pre-industrial warfare. In the morning, no matter how early, someone was waiting to serve them breakfast. For a little while, all romantic matters were put on the back burner, and even Luke had no trouble sleeping soundly for the few hours he devoted to rest.

  As the accomplished northern warriors got to know the volunteers they learned that the trainees were all tired of waiting for something to happen, and they were excited to have the opportunity to get back out into the world to try to change the situation for the better. They had a great deal of pent up frustration over the injustice they’d suffered at the hands of Jesse and his goons, and those emotions were very motivating.

  Most of the recruits had arrived with some type of firearm, but not much ammunition. A few of the men had hunting bows, but their arrows were in terrible condition, and Luke doubted they could hit anything beyond ten meters. Everyone had some sort of club or spear, but finding suitable arms and armor for the rookies was definitely high on the list of priorities. The locals, as well as the maps Zach carried, indicated that the best chance of finding the equipment and gear they needed would be back in Shreveport. Luke hated the idea of backtracking even a single meter, but there was no other decent option close to the river for at least a hundred miles to the west.

  There was a Lowes store on the north side of town, as well as a Harley-Davidson shop fairly close to a big loop in the Red. According to the recruits, Shreveport had fallen quickly as the virus spread across the country, and the subsequent fires had seemed to be limited to the downtown area. As Luke had noted on his way through the city, there had been little sign of any activity there, human or hunter. As soon as all options were discussed, the decision was quickly made to float back to Shreveport and scavenge for supplies.

  Luke and his companions had been on many foraging expeditions in the post-apocalyptic cities of the Midwest, but they hadn’t taken part in such a mission in at least four months. Unlike their previous forays, in Shreveport most of the infected were gone. There were still a few seriously disabled creatures shuffling about, presumably looking for rats and other small animals to consume, but as long as one kept a decent eye on the surroundings there was little to fear as far as the virus was concerned. What did worry Luke was the presence of nearly feral humans hiding in the disintegrating remains of the city. These miserable individuals were only spotted once in a while, but signs of their activity were everywhere. Luckily for the foraging soldiers, the people still living in Shreveport seemed more concerned with food and drugs than bothering armed men and women.

  Many stores had obviously been looted in the early days of the outbreak, a phenomenon that had played out in towns and cities across the world. Guns and ammo were long gone, as were bows and crossbows, arrows, and bolts. But generally, hardware stores still had a lot of inventory lying under their roofs. Luke had his people scavenging hardwoods that would make good shafts for pole arms, as well as many types of heavy steel-implements, such as axes and mauls. As Zach and others had so lethally demonstrated in combat, simple bludgeoning weapons could crush infected skulls as fast as spearmen could kill. The troops also found plenty of grinders, and more importantly, a generator hidden under a pile of rubble that would power the tools they needed to make their weapons.

  Before leaving one of the stores, Terry had sidled up to Luke with a suggestion. “Uh, sir, I think I could make crossbow bolts out of wooden rods; there’re a lot of them in here.”

  Luke had been intrigued. “You can do that?”

  “I’ve worked on my own arrows a lot since the outbreak, and some of the guys who signed up with us did the same with their crossbow bolts. Those things have range and stopping power, and a ton of crossbows can be found in this part of the country.”

  Luke had briefly considered the value of range-weapons in his army; he could definitely envision situations in which crossbows could be useful. He told Terry to pick up whatever he needed.

  Not a motorcycle was to
be found at the Harley store, but plenty of leather clothing, gloves, and boots were left behind by whoever took the bikes. Luke was especially happy to discover half a dozen pairs of mirrored motorcycle riding glasses, designed for both day and nighttime wear. A number of other stores in the area yielded up further items of clothing, as well as heavy fabrics that could be useful in creating armor to protect against bites from the infected. A leather tailoring and repair shop still held virtually all of its inventory, and within a few days every volunteer was supplied with a full set of armored clothing similar to that worn by Luke and the rest of his group. Enough material remained to outfit several hundred more soldiers, and most of it was safely stowed in johnboats that could be towed upriver where it would be used to equip future recruits.

  Training commenced as quickly as weapons were available, and everyone was soon able to form a circle with pikes and spears, and usually stick the sharp points into man-sized practice targets. Luke had selected fifty men and women who were eager to learn how to kill hunters while staying behind to care for their families, and they were equipped and instructed as carefully as the recruits who were to leave at week’s end. A variety of axes, sledge-hammers, and machetes were available to work with so everyone could find something they were comfortable using. In addition, all of the new fighters carried sturdy knives and daggers. Luke knew that the rookies would be unreliable until they experienced combat, but he was definitely pleased with their enthusiasm and work ethic. When the final day of training ended, goodbyes and well-wishes were dutifully exchanged and the new infantry unit headed west up the Red River under the command of a seventeen-year-old captain who never took his sunglasses off.

  Andi still had nightmares about the night Barnes threw Karyn out of the helicopter. The woman had been a total idiot, but no one deserved that fate—Andi hoped that the fall had killed her before she was ripped apart by the pack of hunters below the chopper. Barnes had dangled Andi over them first, to torment Jack, and Kayrn was obviously killed to make Jack believe that he’d witnessed his fiancé’s murder. Barnes had gone to a lot of trouble to set-up the bizarrely malevolent scenario; he’d transformed an unsuspecting and loyal young woman into Andi’s double, from her hair color to the outfits they each wore. Andi had been sure that Barnes would kill her to spite Jack, especially when the power-hungry lunatic suspended her in mid-air above a boat loaded with the infected and told her to say her goodbyes. But he’d pulled her back into the Blackhawk and killed Karyn instead, and he’d laughed as the creatures tore her to pieces. Something snapped in Andi that night, and she soon realized that she had extinguished all emotions except one: hate.

  Andi had lost track of how many days had passed when Thelma brought her news with her breakfast. “President Barnes will be taking you with him on another trip; if I were younger, I swear I’d be jealous. We’ll need to get you packed and ready.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Andi responded in a tone that was impossible to read. “Is there a dress code this time as well?”

  “What? Oh, no. We just need to pack for all types of weather. You’ll be going to California!”

  Andi blinked in surprise. Jack wouldn’t be in California, and neither would anyone else she knew. “I’ve never been to California; do you think we’ll be gone long?”

  “Well, I’m not privy to any important details, but I believe he’s planning on setting up another main base out there. My guess is that California might just become your permanent home.”

  “Really?” Andi feigned excitement. “Will you come too? I’ll really miss you, and I know how much the president relies on you to keep his household running smoothly.”

  Thelma blushed. “Oh, you’re too kind, dear. I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t mind setting up a new place for the president, to make sure it gets done right.”

  “Well, maybe you should offer—he might appreciate it.” Andi wasn’t sure of much anymore, but she was confident that Thelma was one jailer whom she could easily overpower if necessary.

  “I just might do that, dear. Now let’s get you packed.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Luke had been home-schooled until his mother was diagnosed with cancer, and after learning to read at the age of five he devoured books at a prodigious rate. His mind was packed full of information on many subjects, but his favorite field of study had always been history, especially the development of civilization. Only Gracie had noticed as he’d slipped into a rotting bookstore in Shreveport. While there he’d grabbed a water-damaged volume titled Preindustrial Warfare to add to his personal mobile library. For most of the past week she’d had to fight for his attention as he perused the wrinkled pages after they returned to their tent at night.

  Now, the countless hours spent studying the development of civilization as a youngster began to yield dividends, because, as he finally realized, the study of civilization had mostly been the study of war. With ample time to consider the frenetic pace of the months since the outbreak, Luke became conscious of the fact that he’d done little but fight and train. He’d been reacting to his environment, mostly following orders or forced to act out of imminent need. Finally, sitting in the canoe, slowly motoring up the Red River, he found time to think about the problems he and his followers were confronting in the new world.

  Gracie’s education had taken a different path than Luke’s, but she was well-read and creative, with a knack for seeing through to the heart of virtually any type of problem. Luke decided to put the hours spent on the water to good use by discussing his concerns with her.

  “I expect any settlements we find to be in bad shape, and their situation is only going to get worse this winter.”

  “I know,” she agreed, “even people who were prepared for some type of natural disaster couldn’t have anticipated long-term survival in a world overrun by flesh-eaters.” Gracie considered that sobering reality for a minute or two. “How do you think the folks we just left behind will manage in the months to come?”

  “If they follow our advice and stick to their training they’ll make it through the winter. There aren’t too many hunters around here, and there’re probably mountains of supplies within a ten-mile circle of the settlement. If they collect up watercraft and always keep them ready, they can retreat all the way to Vicksburg if they need to. Gladys promised me she’d personally establish contact with our friends in Monroe, and that will plug them into our river alliance all the way to Indiana.”

  Gracie gazed at the current passing by, and sighed. “It’s still hard to not worry about them.”

  “I know,” Luke agreed, “but the Monroe area will be planting crops in the spring, and communities all along the Red can work together. I think we need to stay focused on trying to deal with Barnes—if we lose that war these folks are eventually gonna face worse conditions than they’ve experienced so far.”

  Gracie had learned that many choices in the post-apocalyptic world were between bad and very bad, and this was one of those times when she’d just have to trust that the human spirit would prevail. She took a deep breath of the crispy air and changed the direction of the conversation. “In a lot of ways, the world’s starting over; I mean, we still have modern knowledge, but we’ve lost access to a lot of the technology that we’d grown used to . . .”

  “Yeah, I think we’ll be able to salvage at least some of the tech stuff, but not right away. The modern world isn’t gonna be modern anymore.”

  “How did people survive back in the day?”

  Luke raised an eyebrow. “How far back in the day are you asking about?”

  “I don’t know—preindustrial? After gas and diesel is used up, we’ll practically be back in the 18th or 19th centuries, at least with how we’ll be forced to provide ourselves with heat, food, clothes, that sort of thing.”

  “But when it comes to fighting the hunters, we’re slipping back to the 14th Century,” Luke pointed out. “Gunpowder was a novelty, and the killing took place with sharp steel.”

  Graci
e was quiet for a few seconds. “How long will gasoline last?”

  Luke chewed his lip in thought before replying. “I think that regular gas for vehicles goes bad in less than a year unless treated, and even then it doesn’t hold up for long. I know diesel lasts a lot longer than that.”

  “So we still should be able to drive for a few years yet?” Gracie sounded relieved.

  “I think so, but of course, we can’t fix roads and bridges any time soon.” Luke saw the crestfallen expression on Gracie’s face and tried to focus on the positive. “I think tractors and other agricultural machines mostly run off diesel. And I’m not sure how long aviation fuel will last, but I know most of it had to be used up by military forces fighting the outbreak, so I expect Barnes will run out sooner or later.”

  Gracie tilted her head slightly. “What about cartridge-reloading devices and supplies? Can we make .50 cal rounds to try to bring down more of Barnes’ helicopters?”

  “I’m sure we can, at least in theory, but we need people who know how to do it, and we need the supplies, especially the gunpowder.”

  “Isn’t gunpowder easy to make if you have the right ingredients?”

  “It’s supposed to be easy to make crude black powder, but we’d need modern gunpowder to reload modern rounds.”

  Gracie frowned. “Okay, so it’s like Jack always said—on a large scale, our military will have to rely on armor and medieval weapons?”

  “Yep, just like in 14th century Europe.”

  “I do remember a little bit from world history class, and I know that the 1300s really sucked.” Gracie remembered that the plague—the Black Death—ravaged Europe during that time.

  Luke couldn’t disagree. “It would never have been my first choice destination in a time-travel machine.”