Generation Dead - 07

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Generation Dead - 07 Page 3

by Joseph Talluto


  The first hands that reached for me, I cut off at the wrist, pivoting to the side and delivering a horizontal cut that removed the head of the zombie as well. I stepped forward and delivered a low cut that swept through the knees of two zombies, dropping them to the ground. They still tried to get up, but failed badly. I brought the sword up in a high arc, cutting through a zombie’s neck and torso, removing the shoulder and arm as well. I swung the sword around and cut the top two inches off the next one in line, killing him instantly. The next three charged and I just went to town, slashing as quickly as I could, tossing zombie parts all over the place. In a few short seconds, I was alone again, although there were more of them coming down the stairs.

  “How’s it going, Jake?” I asked, stepping down the stairs to the landing. My big blade was in my hand, dripping zombie gore. Both Julia and Jake looked at me as if I was some sort of medieval nightmare, although Julia had that same odd kind of look on her face.

  “Jesus, Aaron,” Jake said. “You just killed seven zombies in like, what, five seconds?”

  “That long?” I tried to be funny, but I was still jacked on adrenaline. I stepped into the boat and flicked the blade at the rope, cutting it neatly below the knot that Jake had so much trouble with. The boat slid away into the water and Jake didn’t bring up the point that technically, I should be paddling.

  I took out a small bottle of kerosene from my pack, and squirted a decent amount of the fluid on the blade, I still held unsheathed. Julia had a lighter handy, and she lit my sword. Red flames burned brightly, illuminating the tall, dead buildings that flanked us as we rode down the river. I held my sword aloft as a reminder to the dead that they still had a master.

  The flames sputtered and slowly died out, and I stuck my sword into the water to quench any leftover flames. After letting it dry, I sheathed it and picked up a paddle, adding to Jake’s strokes and getting us away from the city one more time.

  The river’s edge was lined with dead people, and they stared with a curious intensity as we passed. The virus had affected some in the weird way that made their eyes glow in the dark, and it was always creepy to see floating lights move in the dark areas and know they were attached to some dead thing. Groans echoed around the building canyons and I always listened to see if there was ever any change on pitch that indicated a zombie on the hunt. Low groans meant they were just making noise. Higher pitched groans meant they had spotted their prey, and groans bordering on snarls meant they were closing in and about to kill.

  I don’t know why I bothered. It wasn’t like we were going to stop and help anyway. Too many people had been killed helping like that, and we had learned our lessons at the feet of the masters. We can’t save them all was the first lesson we learned after gaining some skill as fighters. Don’t bother trying.

  After a while, we passed the outer edges and started to see the buildings start to lose some height. It was the first sign that we were passing out of the city. We passed by a burned out hospital, and Jake always looked up to the building, as if he was seeking something, or something was calling him. I never asked, and he never explained. This time, I wondered if it had something to do with the mood he was in, why he was angry all the time. I would have to ask him once we were home and then pick a time when he was far away from pointy things.

  Chapter 8

  We spent the night in an abandoned house on the other side of the Wall. When the end of the world happened, my father and several others realized the threat from the zombies in the city would never stop causing problems unless they were contained. Over the course of several months and the loss of a lot of lives, a barrier was erected around the city. It wasn’t anything fancy, just cargo containers, boxcars, and sheet metal welded together, but it worked at keeping the zombies in and the curious out.

  People still went in, danger seekers who got tired of living, or teenagers daring each other to make a zombie run. It didn’t matter the reason, it was dangerous as hell. Once upon a time, there was a fad of proving oneself by spending a night in the city. Julia’s father put an end to that in a hurry. He told the kids that if they wanted to prove themselves, pick up a knife and come at him. If they lived, they were proven. No one took him up on the offer.

  In the suburbs, on the south side of the wall, there were still thousands of uninhabited houses. Most of them had been systematically looted of anything useful or valuable, but they were free of zombies and kept you out of the rain and wind.

  A few minutes before dawn, I woke up on the floor in the bedroom. It was something I had done for years, and my dad always told me it was lucky to be able to do it. Jake, on the other hand, slept as if he just discovered it, and it took a lot to get that man out of bed.

  I got up off the floor and looked out the window, down the empty street and across the sea of empty homes. It would have been a decent thing to burn the whole area down, but this close to the Wall meant a breach might occur, and then we would be right back where we started.

  I spent a moment running a whetstone over the edge of my sword and knife, and then put my gear on in practiced moves. I thought about heading home today, and found myself to be impatient to get there. Not sure why, since there wasn’t anything for me there outside of my relatives and cousins, but it was home, none the less.

  Julia surprised me by being awake early. She was in the kitchen area using a small bowl she had found and was washing her face and arms, trying to clean up as best she could. She could have turned on a faucet, but guessing what might come out would stump even the best of psychics.

  “Oh! Aaron! You startled me!” Julia jumped slightly when she opened her eyes after drying out the water.

  ‘Sorry.” I said, noting a drop of water hung tenaciously to her chin. It was a nice chin, I decided. I wasn’t really sure why I noticed, I had known Julia my entire life and basically she was my sister, but I did notice, anyway. “How did you sleep?”

  “As well as usual, when I’m not at home,” Julia replied. “Too many noises I’m not used to.”

  “That’s for sure,” I said. I changed the subject. “Anything for breakfast?” I asked, opening up a couple of cabinet drawers and peering in.

  “You can try your luck with the unlabeled cans in the pantry.” Julia suggested, with a slight twinkle in her eyes.

  I laughed, because that was another game we used to play growing up. Someone would find a can, and we would first lay bets on what might be inside, then lay bets as to who would try and eat a bite. Afterwards, we would quietly lay bets as to whether the taster would actually survive. If you were a good guesser, you could make some decent money. You might lose a friend or two, but you’d have money.

  “No thanks. Anytime I think about that or am tempted to give it a try, I remember Bill Tract and the chili.” I said, smiling.

  Julia laughed. “Oh, God! I remember that! He was lucky to survive at all.”

  I nodded. Bill Tract took a single bite of what amounted to eighteen-year-old chili in a can. In one minute, he was puking his guts out. While he was bending over retching, his bowels let go and he shit himself sideways. Two weeks and twenty pounds later, he was finally able to stand on his own.

  “I’ll stick with the corn biscuits.” I said, digging through my pack. Corn biscuits were homemade corn meal balls compressed and dried, then packed dry. You typically broke them up and dropped them in a cup of water, and ate the resulting mush. With a little salt, they were actually pretty decent. If you didn’t have any water, you could put some in your mouth and gnaw on it for about three hours.

  Julia finished her washing, and after ordering me to turn around, put on a fresh t-shirt. She packed up her stuff, and then put her gear on, too. When she finished, she came over and stood by me, staring intently at me with big blue eyes until I relented and gave her a biscuit. Some things never changed. She used to do this when we were kids, too.

  Julia and I enjoyed a quiet moment, just eating and looking out the windows when a loud thumping came from th
e upstairs. My adrenaline rushed slightly before I realized we were on the outside of the Wall, and the thumping wasn’t a zombie, it was Jake.

  Julia and I shared a look, and said the same thing together.

  “Jake’s up.”

  Jake was a grumpy riser, and if he slept hard enough, he might forget where he was. If that was the case, things might get very interesting, very soon. Julia must have been reading my mind, because she suddenly clapped a hand to her mouth.

  “Do you think he’ll do it?” She asked.

  “Only if he’s half awake, and the layout is the same.” I said, thinking about it.

  “I was laughing so hard the last time that I peed my pants,” Julia said, giggling.

  I moved away slightly. “Thanks for the warning.”

  Julia punched me on the arm, and we stood quietly, waiting to see if Jake would be sleepy enough to use the toilet. Plumbing systems relied on gravity and these systems had degraded from lack of use over the years. If you flushed one of the ‘lost johns’ the dry-rotted fixtures usually gave up, sending foul water everywhere. Jake did that once before and wound up smelling like a sewer for a week. I got a month’s worth of teasing material from that episode. Even our dad thought it was hilarious.

  The thumping sounds continued and we watched the ceiling to see if history would repeat itself.

  Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and a heartfelt “Ow! Dammit, who the hell put that there?” Followed by a calmer, “Oh, wait. Not my house.”

  Julia and I shared a look. Our fun wouldn’t be happening today. It sounded like Jake had knocked himself fully awake. Of course, that meant he was going to be grumpy about bumping into something.

  Ten minutes later, Jake thumped down the stairs, carrying his backpack, weapons, and a serious grouch. He dumped the gear on the floor, while he went out the back door. The yards in the suburbs had grown so much they had become a forest, with homes hidden in the brush. Two steps off the porch, Jake had effectively disappeared.

  Five minutes later, Jake came back. He seemed to be in a better mood, and took a moment to wash off his face and rinse out the sleep from his eyes.

  “Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Jake said to no one in particular, referring to the events of the last two days.

  “Not really,” I replied. I wasn’t too talkative as a rule, and didn’t feel the need to start changing that trait now.

  “Never saw you use that blade so well before,” Jake said, eyeing the hilt that stuck up over my right shoulder. “I’ve seen you cut apart a lone zombie, but that group thing was pretty amazing.’

  “I do what I need to,” I said casually. On the outside, I was calm, but inside I was a bit nervous. Besides my dad, I always wanted to have Jake’s approval. I wasn’t sure why, but maybe it was because he was my big brother. We were equal fighters, with different strengths and weaknesses, but I still felt a need for Jake to think well of me.

  “You did great,” Julia said. Jake glanced her way while I smiled at her. It meant a lot to have Julia’s approval, too, but it wasn’t quite the same.

  “Plan for today?” I asked, changing the subject. I was never comfortable as the center of attention.

  “Finish our business and be on our way. See if there’s any more jobs for us, and if not, head for home.” Jake said, taking a bite of his own biscuit, and then wetting it down with his canteen. He’d keep that chunk of biscuit in his cheek for a while.

  “All right then,” I said. “Let’s get moving.”

  Chapter 9

  We grabbed our stuff and Jake showed me a handful of gold and silver jewelry he had found in a hidden place in the house. I nodded in approval, thinking this trip was already profitable, and Jake’s find was making a good thing better. Hopefully the Melting Pot will be open today at the capital.

  We walked the short distance from the house to the canal and climbed into our canoe. I pushed us off the side of the canal and we slipped quietly into the water. I guided us out to the edge of the shadows, experience teaching us that while we took our own risks for our business, others weren’t so brave. They were, however, willing to steal your treasures if they got the chance. Most of the time, we were left alone, but we never stopped being cautious. A competing group did attack us once on this route, but Julia sliced the hell out of the leader before the attack was fully underway, and the rest lost their nerve after seeing how much blood the human body could lose if opened correctly.

  The riverbanks were well grown with trees and brush. Many trees had branches that touched the water, narrowing the usable part of the channel and creating underwater hazards. Fortunately, our canoe was aluminum, so we were pretty safe unless we hit something metallic or rocky.

  The mist on the water parted for us, swirling in time with the whorls on the water as we moved quietly by, disappearing as we travelled west. Little blips of water betrayed curious fish, and cranes hunted the shallows in side canals and channels. Here and there rusted forms slowly disintegrated by the water’s edge, remnants of a time when the world was very different.

  We had been down this canal several times before, and I could point out numerous reference spots that I used to mark our passage. Some were safe harbors, some were good hunting grounds, and others were good fishing grounds. A couple were places to avoid, as people moved away from population centers to start their own towns, they had different notions about what laws to enforce. When our dad was around, these places couldn’t have existed. Now, they seemed to be popping up more often. One such place, Zoomertown, it was called, built itself right up to the Wall. They were fairly lawless, and was a good place to go if you were looking for trouble. A lot of youngsters from the capital came up that way to get their first drink, sleep with their first whore, and look at their first zombie. You had to have money though, and it was rumored that someone died every week from a knife wound or a bad drink. A lot of kids didn’t come back, and it was rumored that agents from Zoomertown roamed the capital, looking for young girls to steal. When we passed these places, Jake would put down his paddle and pick up his rifle until we were clear.

  Once we cleared the heaviest of the suburbs, I could see the capital lands. Soon we would be passing the orchards and the grazing lands, and finally, the farmlands for the capital.

  Around mid-morning, we reached the outskirts of Leport, the capital of the New United States. In the twenty years since its renaming, the population had grown from several hundred to tens of thousands. Dad had said it was one of the few places around, which looked like a city used to look. None of us had any clue what he was talking about. Going to the capital as kids used to be such a treat. We would ride up the river, waving at the stray zombies on the canal edges, coming up to see old friends and play with new ones. We would see a movie and go to dinner, and spend some time with people our fathers called the ‘old guard.’ They would talk about the Zombie Wars; drink to fallen friends, and in a couple of days, head back for home. The capital now, for us, was a place to do business. Lately, it was trouble, too.

  At the docks, we slipped into a small opening and Jake tied off his end while I took care of mine. I helped Julia out and she carefully pulled up the duffle bag that carried our precious cargo, the thing we went through miles of zombie territory for. We left our heavy melee weapons in the boat; they’d be safe until we returned.

  Walking up the dock and onto the street, we threw waves to people who knew us, had known our parents, or had done business with us. Several people looked us over, unused to the gear we were wearing and the weapons we were carrying. They knew what we were, but seeing one of us up close was different.

  “Lots of new faces,” Jake said, looking over at a group of men standing outside a wine-seller’s place. One man noticed Julia and jostled another, causing that one to notice her as well. Both men openly stared until we passed from view. Julia couldn’t help herself. She was, for lack of a better word, stunning. She was also completely oblivious; her attention was always focused on the children that ran
around the town. She loved kids and they loved to be with her. She was a natural mother; caring, compassionate, and fiercely protective.

  “Yeah,” I said, looking at the men, who stared back defiantly until we rounded the corner. “Let’s get done and get home.”

  “Sounds good,” Jake said. “You guys get the business done, I’ll see the Melter and check to see if there is any new business worth looking at. I’ll meet you back here in an hour.” Jake turned down a side street and was off without another word.

  I looked down at Julia and she shrugged. Jake was like that, and there was no changing him.

  Chapter 10

  “What’s the address?” I asked, looking up at the homes on the hills. I hoped it would be a short walk.

  Julia looked at the piece of paper attached to the duffle bag. “Says here that it’s up on fourth, on the other side of the cemetery.”

  I thought a minute, and then groaned. “Damn. It’s up the hill and another half mile walk besides.”

  Julia started walking. “Never knew you disliked exercise.”

  I followed a second later. “I dislike extra exercise,” I said, defending myself. I kept up, but also kept an eye on our surroundings. The habit that served me well in our excursions, and did well when we were in supposedly friendlier territory.

  We walked up the hill, rounding the bend in front of the old school that was used as a legislative building. Congress wasn’t in session right now, so the building was quiet and had minimal activity. Supposedly, the original Constitution and Bill of Rights were housed within, but I hadn’t seen them myself.

  At Fourth Street, we walked over a small ditch and past a small grassy rise. The little hill was about four feet high, but combined with the ditch; the barrier was actually over eight feet. Once upon a time, Julia’s dad had helped build that barricade to keep out the zombies that had been all over the place. Now it was a place kids played in and others cursed for its inconvenience. It was funny how quickly people forgot the effort that went into trying to save the world from extinction.

 

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