He was ravenous with hunger and could already taste the coffee before he opened the door to the shelter.
The smell hit him as soon as he walked in. Spam fritters and fresh bread, char-toasted to perfection.
They had run out of butter a week or two earlier but had hopes that they would be able to create some form of substitute from the milk provided by their goat.
The goat and three chickens were kept in a small building behind the shelter. The zeds seemed relatively uninterested in the animals, and so the group had been building a small pen that allowed the animals some freedom.
Vanessa was the homesteader of the group. A good cook, and having grown up in a rural farming environment, she knew her way around animals, from raising them to slaughtering them.
“Just in time,” James said as he looked up from his plate of food. “I was going to start without you.”
The kid smiled and his continued enthusiasm for each day highlighted exactly what it meant to be a child.
Even though he was fully aware of everything that had happened, he still looked forward to tomorrow as if he were just at home watching cartoons on the sofa.
“I’d never miss a meal. Especially not with him around, he’d steal my last piece of bread, and make me think I gave it to him,” Taron whispered and pointed as Hector emerged from his bunk.
He looked far from rested after his three-hour nap. None of them did. The weight of life hung heavy on their shoulders. Nobody slept peacefully through the night anymore. Even James had, on occasion, woken up screaming, his dreams plagued by nightmares.
The three and a half men sat and ate in relative silence. The bread was still the good side of stale and eating it meant that a new loaf was needed. In turn, the prospect of freshly baked bread improved the quality of the current piece they were eating.
Besides, it was not the food the adults looked forward to. Sure, sustenance was important, and none of them would have voluntarily skipped a meal, no matter what the ingredients were, but coffee … coffee was where their minds went to.
Rationing had been put into effect from the very start. They knew they needed to do everything to conserve their resources.
“Why give ourselves the chance to be wasteful early on, when we need to think long term?” It had been Vanessa who spoke sense into them and instituted the rations. They played it smart, using the first week to be rather liberal, and slowly tightened it with each passing day.
Being rationed down to a single cup of coffee every meal was tough, even for Taron, who had never been a coffee drinker in all of his days on Earth, preferring tea or cola, even during the crazy double-double shifts he had pulled when first starting out his residency. Yet now, with the end of the world behind them, and the daunting task of rebuilding up ahead, coffee had suddenly become his lifeblood.
He savored the way the rich, black fluid smelled, especially when coming in from the cold. The bitter taste, which burned slightly as it went down. They had run out of milk even before they did butter, and while the goat provided a little, it was agreed that it should be used for cooking purposes, rather than tarnishing the beautiful darkness that was their favorite beverage.
“Life in a cup,” Hector said as he placed his coffee back on the table. The steam rising from the cup said it was still scalding hot, yet he had effortlessly downed half the contents without so much as a flinch.
Even James nursed his own smaller cup, diluted with extra water, to take away the brew’s aggressive edge.
Once everybody had eaten, James cleared the table, and they all sat down to plan the day. Routine was key for them all and starting with breakfast and a meeting had proven to be the most effective manner with which to work.
“We need to have a look at the fence and see how much damage was done yesterday,” Henry started, recalling the post-human with the barbed wire wrapped around his legs. “I also think it is time we started thinking about additional reinforcements. There has to be some way we can fortify things without making it look like we are building a fortress. We don’t want to draw any unnecessary attention.”
“We need to use the trees. Cut ‘em down, spike the ground, maybe dig some bear pits too,” Hector said as he rolled a cigarette. The only real smoker in the group, Hector loved rolling his own cigarettes, and already had plans to start growing his own tobacco as soon as things settled to the point where they became a real, self-sustaining community.
“I know we had some discussions way back when, but with the rules changed now, I don’t see why not. Bear pits, I’m a bit apprehensive about, but reinforcing the main entry points around the perimeter make sense to me. Let’s first check out the damage. Repair it as best we can and then take it from there,” Henry answered, looking around the table at each of them in turn.
“Daddy, can I go with you?” James asked.
“No,” Henry answered quickly. “Your mother would kill me; besides, it is too dangerous out there for you. You need to stay here, help your mother. Plus, I have some jobs for you, jobs that only you can do.”
The disappointment on the kid's face was clear, and he made no attempt to conceal it.
“You can’t keep him wrapped up forever,” Hector said, speaking up as he ran the paper along the tip of his tongue and effortlessly rolled the tube through his fingers; his eyes not on the job at hand, but rather watching the others around the table.
“We’re not having that discussion again.” Henry’s voice was firm.
“But, Dad,” James began, only to hold his tongue upon catching a stern look from his father.
“Kid’s gotta learn sometime,” Hector said.
“Not today,” Henry replied.
“Better today than tomorrow, you never know what’s going to happen,” Hector reiterated.
“I said no,” Henry slammed his palm down on the table and ended the conversation. “James, I need you to check out the rear building. Hector said there was a fox sneaking around. I need you to inspect it and fortify it where you can. We have some chicken wire in storage. Use it sparingly, but against any places you think are weak.”
“Yes, sir.” James couldn’t help but sound disappointed, even if the task he had been given was far more important than his usual duties.
“Hector, you and I will head out to take a look at the damage on the perimeter. Taron, I want you to tend the animals, and check on the goat. That wound on her leg still hasn’t healed and I don’t want to risk losing her.” Henry gave the orders, and the group reacted like the well-oiled machine they were. “I’ll be back for my stint on watch. After we eat lunch, I want you, Taron, to take Hector and walk the perimeter to the rear. Check for any signs of yesterday’s herd and see if you can’t find some of those fruit bushes again. I don’t know how you do it, but you always manage to find them.”
With their duties arranged, they drained the last of their allotted coffee rations and headed out.
As with every day, there was a lot to do, and never any time to waste.
Chapter Five
“Ronnie, watch out!” Jared called out, finally referring to the jersey-wearing jock by his first name.
Ronnie spun to face the shambling dead man approaching him, raised his makeshift weapon, and froze. The man had not died a good first death. From the tattered look of his face, a motorbike wreck would have been the first thing to come to mind. The shredded skin and gravel embedded remains were a solid indicator, while the wrecked bike that lay just behind him, still holding on to the arm that had been severed at the moment of impact, merely served to emphasize the point.
“Kill it,” Leah called, her voice seeming to spur Ronnie back to life.
Raising the crowbar, he brought it crashing down on the top of the zed’s skull, splitting it in two, sending a thick black goo cascading from the gash. As he tugged the weapon free, sticky globs of decayed brain matter clung to the metal. As he pulled it back over his shoulder, a few clots of blood splattered against Abby’s leg.
Abby sc
reamed while her friend Kate and their painfully obvious gay best friend Jack both tried to hush her.
“Be quiet, girl, please.” Jack held his hand over Abby’s mouth. “We don’t want more of them coming this way.”
Abby calmed herself and nodded, and while Jack’s meaty hands hid half of her face, the terror in her eyes was enough to show them she understood the danger.
“We need to keep moving. We’re on the edge of the city, and well, those things are everywhere. If they find us …” Samantha faced the group and did her best to hurry them along.
While there had been no vote, or even time for a discussion on the subject, the group had somehow fallen behind Samantha and Dwayne’s lead. Julie and Jared came close behind them. The others who had been rescued from the frat house followed; apart from Ronnie, they were lost sheep; mourning the death of their friends, and still traumatized by the forced acceptance of what had happened.
Not long after they left the house, they added another group to theirs. A family of three brothers, who were also trying to leave the city.
The youngest of the three was injured and collapsed as they walked. The others insisted on carrying him between them.
Nobody saw him come back until it was too late. He chewed off his brother’s ear in a frenzied attack before dragging him to the floor and sinking his teeth into his throat. Blood spurted in all directions, like a drilled-through water main. Fountains of dark crimson had jumped higher than could be believed, and for a moment everybody froze, shocked by what they had witnessed.
That was all the time it took for the second brother to die. Reaching, he pulled his two siblings apart, and in a rush of feral aggression, the younger brother turned on the eldest, and with no effort at all, ripped away the lower jaw and buried his face in the bloody mess left behind.
Nobody had spoken about the three since. Too much had happened in the hours since leaving the safety of their party house. None of the group could cope with or process the depth of loss surrounding them. It still ate away at them, nibbling through the dark parts of their subconscious, but for the immediate future, it was buried far enough away from the surface not to matter.
They crept through the edges of the city, avoiding the high-density areas. Yet still, the dead surrounded them. Groups, hundreds strong in places, reacted to their passing, but were so slow, the group had disappeared before any of the zeds made it close enough to them.
The streets were a mess, abandoned cars dotted the roads while the burned out remains of several multi-vehicle pile ups blocked the larger intersections they passed.
Several of the wrecks had passengers still inside. Snapping and snarling at the grime and gore-covered windows. One particular wreck involved a truck, three minivans, and, judging by the body parts and drying pool of blood, more than a few pedestrians.
The windscreen of the truck was shattered. The burly man who had been behind the wheel had burst through the glass, his skin ripped open by the hungry glass teeth. His body reared upwards pulling his blackened, bloated face from the front of the vehicle. He had a long beard, stained red, and a shard of glass embedded in his throat poked through the matted hair. His eyes were grey and as he caught the scent of the group, he began to thrash.
His movements shook his entire body, causing it to slip farther and farther through the hole in the window. His skin dragged over the razor-sharp shards, tearing with an audible rip. Black blood dripped down onto the bodies beneath him, seeming to wake them as a result. One woman, whose oversized breasts flopped down either side of her considerable stomach––they were large and saggy enough to touch the ground on either side of her––began to thrash in an attempt to collect the dripping rotten goodness in her mouth.
“Would you look at that,” Ronnie said with a laugh, pointing at the woman. “She’s gagging for it.”
“Eww, that’s gross.” Leah slapped Ronnie on the arm and turned away.
“Come on, babe, I’m just joking.” Ronnie hurried after Leah, grabbing her and pulling her into his arms.
“We can’t joke about this, dude,” Ian said, walking up behind the pair. “Not right now.”
His words had a calming effect on the big man, who looked up and nodded. “You’re right.”
Abby, Kate, and Jack walked up to them, as once again the two groups separated into their original numbers.
“We need to keep moving, guys,” Dwayne spoke, moving toward the second group.
“Yeah, it’s going to be getting dark soon, and we will need to find some shelter,” Sam added as she moved beside Dwayne. “We need to rest up, and maybe find some food too.”
“Who made her queen bitch?” Leah asked under her breath.
“Leah, we would be dead if it wasn’t for them,” Ian replied, keeping his words even quieter.
“You don’t know that. They probably just got lucky,” Ronnie said, staring at the group.
He caught the unwanted attention of Jared, who had remained silent since they left the house. He made no attempt to interact but hung close to the group he belonged to. Nobody questioned him. They could all feel there was something about him, and while nobody could say for sure what it was, they knew better than to push him for fear of the result.
“Well, they have gotten us this far, maybe we should just let them lead,” Abby suggested, her voice meek. Even though they had been elevated into the same ranks as Ian, Ronnie, and Leah, the fact remained that the trio did not belong with them.
“What would you know about it?” Leah snapped, her works snarky and barbed.
Abby lowered her eyes to the ground and took a step back, her deep shuddering breath said she was on the verge of tears.
“Guys, we need to move, now,” Sam growled at them, pointing down the road to a group of at least half a dozen zeds making their way toward them.
The group moved, the two divisions joining up once again as they walked. Three things dominated the outskirt of the city: parks, small rows of housing and tenement blocks, and industrial zones. The silence of the city only hit them once they approached the factory site. The canned goods factory worked day and night, and while the noise was contained behind the reinforced building, there was always a general undertone of sound that buzzed around it. Even on cold, winter days when ninety percent were locked up indoors, clinging to their heating units, or the early mornings when the world still seemed to be asleep, there was always a hum about the place. The very fact people were alive and surrounding each other, created a sort of white noise that played out on a subconscious level.
Now it was gone, stripped away by the returning dead. The only real sounds were their hungry growls, and while they echoed up and down the streets, like a snarling winter wind, they carried no sense of warmth or life. Merely an exclamation point at the end of the silence.
“Which way?” Ian asked, looking to Sam for answers.
While none wanted to readily admit it, Ian understood that a leader was required, and real-world situations called for real leaders, not the winner of the popularity contest.
“If we cut through the park, we would come to the downtown district. There would be plenty of places to hide,” Ronnie offered.
Jared gave a tisk of amused irritation.
“No,” Sam answered quickly, deflecting the anger that instantly welled in Ronnie’s eyes. “We can’t go through the park. We would be too exposed.”
“Plus, we want to leave the city,” Dwayne added. “Not move further into it. There are lots of people around here still, mostly dead, some alive, but we are best to stick together. We don’t know who we can trust.”
“Well, unless you want to hide in the factory, we are running out of options,” Jack spoke up, his song-like voice weak and timid, yet his eyes burned with a serious intensity.
The others looked over their shoulders and saw a mob of the undead stumbling around at the other end of the road. They came around a city bus, which had been parked sideways across the road.
“Shit,” Jul
ie said, staring down at the group. “There has to be at least fifty of them, maybe more.”
The horde of zeds did not appear to have noticed the group yet. But with each shuffling step they took, the distance between them decreased, and so the less time they had before things changed.
“We can hide out in the factory. It's huge, and I know for a fact the industry is dying. They were laying people off left, right, and center; running on a skeleton crew,” Jack said, pushing his broken glasses up his nose.
“How can you be so sure?” Ronnie snapped, throwing a glance back in Jack’s direction.
“Because my old man used to work there. They laid him off a month or so ago, after thirty years of working there.” The bitterness in his voice overpowered the fear.
The news seemed to come as a shock to Abby, and while nobody truly knew the extent of their relationship, to say that they were close was a simple fact to tell.
“How many people is a graveyard shift?” Ronnie asked.
“I dunno, but it can’t be many, and at least inside there are places to hide. Out here, we are sitting ducks,” Jack said, sweat sliding down his greasy brow.
“I still vote for through the park,” Ronnie said, looking up at the tall, grey structure that was the factory. Thick steel pipes wrapped their way around the building like snakes, while trucks sat in their bays, waiting for their cargo to be delivered.
They would be waiting a long time.
“You would because you’re an asshole,” Jared sniped again, his words few but barbed and laced with enough venom to piss off even the most patient man.
“What the fuck did you say to me?” Ronnie charged at Jared, throwing Jack to one side as he stormed past him.
Turning toward the charging jock, Jared didn’t flinch, and made no move to fight, yet.
“Hey … hey, stop it,” Julie said, moving between the two men. Samantha joined her, and the pair managed to slow Ronnie down enough for Leah to grab his arms and pull him away.
ZPOC: The Beginning Page 9
