by TW Brown
“But that place is huge, and he is being kept in a cage in dang near the center of camp. It ain’t like we are gonna be able to just slip in and save him,” I insisted.
“And I said one thing at a time,” Paula snapped. Nice to know some things never change.
I stayed quiet for a minute, but then I had another thought. “Have you ever heard or read about a guy named Randall Flagg?”
Paula looked at me with those dark eyes of hers and I wanted to crawl under a rock. “Of course I have. He is a character in an old Stephen King book. Some sort of amalgam of the devil and the boogeyman. He had powers, but he could look like a normal guy. He used the typical animals like crows to spy on the good guys. Why do you ask?”
“Could somebody like that exist?” I pressed, ignoring the question.
“No. That is just fiction.”
“Didn’t they used to say that about zombies?”
Paula was quiet for a minute, and then she turned on her side to face me. “Why are you asking about this stuff?”
“The leader of that army down in the valley? Her people say that she knows things, and I think they are convinced that she was behind the death of their friend. They were really spooked.”
“Yeah, you can thank Jim for that as well. He fed that crap to you knowing that they were listening. It was like telling ghosts stories when you are camping. Now every snapping twig is the crazed killer come for his victims,” Paula said with a smile. “That guy is frightening the way his mind works. Sounds like he got them scared out of their pants.”
“So then there is no way that Suzi has some sort of powers or magic working for her?” I asked, needing to be reassured.
“It is all a bunch of superstitious nonsense,” Paula said. “No!” she exclaimed when I continued to look at her with obvious doubt all over my face.
I turned back to the road. I was torn between still holding on to some sense of doubt and feeling like a complete moron, and accepting Paula’s answer.
I was still going over it in my head when I saw something. Coming up the road was the leading element of my escort. I could make out Maddy as she led the way. She was joined by four others. Next came Jim, his limp as well as his being about half the size of the huge man who walked beside him with a crossbow in his hands easy to distinguish. Last were the remaining five members of the group.
This was about to become a slaughter. I shoved thoughts of Jackson out of my head. They had rescued me, we were about to rescue Jim. They would obviously have something in mind for Jackson. Just because I could not think of something did not mean that these more experienced people like Billy, Paula, and Jim did not have a plan already brewing.
“Now!” Paula whispered.
7
Vignettes LXIII
Juan sat on the log watching Della and Denita. Apparently, Gerald had been very thorough in his training. And while Juan was a bit annoyed by how some stranger could tell his girls that their dad might go “live with their mom” or some such nonsense, he couldn’t really fault the guy. It was not the world he grew up in.
Juan returned his attention to his daughters. Della was standing in the open field. She was singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” at the top of her lungs while the deader staggered her direction.
This particular zombie looked like the sort of man that had lived most of his life in the Alaskan Wilderness. His beard hung down almost to his belt and was a macabre nest of all sorts of bugs and might have given home to a nest of rodents at some point. His end looked like perhaps it had come at some of the wolves. One arm was shredded and torn up. The bones of the forearm had been snapped at some point between the elbow and wrist. However, there were some other nasty rips and tears on his legs as well that just did not look like they came from a human zombie.
Juan finally spotted Denita; she was slipping up behind the deader, moving at least quiet enough that neither he nor the walker could hear her approach. At last, she was close enough and came in with a brutal swing of her club. The barrel of it caught the zombie right behind the knees. Then, like sharks in a frenzy, both girls were on the monster, swinging hard and fast until the head busted open.
“I win!” Della crowed.
That was another peculiar aspect to this little event. The girls had turned it into a contest. Whoever struck the blow that broke open the skull was declared the winner.
“Nice work, girls,” Juan called from his comfortable spot sitting on the log. “So how many of these deaders have you two killed now?”
“Thirty-seven if we get to count those yucky wolves.”
That had been something that Juan would like to bring up with Gerald when he got back. Killing the human versions was one thing, and the wolves were not that much more agile, but they often travelled in small packs as well as being a tiny bit faster. He was not entirely sure that he was okay with his girls being put in that much danger.
“Daddy,” Della said, both girls now suddenly stopping in their tracks and looking at him with odd expressions etched on their faces.
“You girls ready for lunch?” Juan asked.
“Don’t move,” Denita whispered.
In an instant, the two girls split up, each moving out wide of his location. They were looking at something behind him. Juan craned his neck and spotted the problem right away. It was almost prophetic. Heading his direction in their strange swaggering gait were five deader wolves.
“Girls, you need to get back to the cabin,” Juan warned.
A lone walker was one thing, but a small pack of wolves? That was an entirely different story. He doubted his own ability to withstand such an attack. He also knew that he would not be able to escape using the crutches. While deader wolves were not much more coordinated than their human counterparts, they could still move at a pace equal to a slow jog or fast walk. That was a speed that Juan was not able to reach at this time. They would drag him down long before he reached the safety of the cabin.
Suddenly, he was very thankful that Gerald seemed to have made it a point to teach some more advanced survival skills to his girls. They were about to become orphans, and it looked like he would be reuniting with Mackenzie sooner rather than later.
The girls did not seem to be taking his demand that they go back to the cabin with any seriousness at all. They were both crouched and had moved past him. They were on either side of the pack and almost even with them at this point.
“This isn’t some game, girls. Now do what I told you and get your butts back to that cabin!” Juan snapped, putting his “serious dad” voice in effect for good measure.
“Keep talking, Papi,” Della whispered barely loud enough for him to hear. “That will keep them focused on you.”
“Dammit, I said this isn’t some sort of game. Those are wolves, and there are five of them. Now get back to the cabin.”
It was as if his girls had suddenly gone stone cold deaf. They did not even glance his direction. The two tiny figures continued to creep along. At this point, they had gotten past the deader wolves and were now changing course to come up from behind. Meanwhile, the wolves were not making any attempts to approach faster than their stalking creep. It freaked Juan out to watch what was almost a drunken parody of these once beautiful animals as they crept closer.
There had been many discussions about how deaders seemed to hold on to certain instincts. That had become part of the theory about why the children acted so different. Most children were wary of strangers after a certain age. If some sort of vestigial instinct remained, then that was as good of a reason as any. Personally, Juan’s stance was that all zombies were bad and needed to be taken down.
“Us or them,” had been his mantra for quite some time. Of course, he applied that to the living, the undead, child zombie, wolf, or just plain deader.
“You girls are in big trouble when we get home,” Juan warned as he drew his machete.
That acted like a switch. Just as with the child zombie that would ignore or even shy away from a perso
n, the moment that weapon was drawn, the game changed and they reverted to their primary function: kill the living.
“Papi!” Denita scolded. “You did it too soon!”
Juan bit back a comment that would only be fitting if he were to use it directed at an adult. Besides, he had bigger problems; the first wolf came within range and Juan brought his machete down on the top of its flat head.
At that exact moment, both his girls let out blood-curdling shrieks.
***
Vix acted on instinct and rolled to her left just in time to avoid the huge mining pick that came down and plunged into the ground where her head had been only a moment before. Having never changed her values when it came to being out in the wasteland that was now all that remained of her beloved England, Vix was wearing her boots as well as her weapon in her bed roll.
With one smooth move, she drew the machete as she scooted and rolled one more time to come out of her bedroll that she always left unzipped for just such emergencies. She was on her belly and had to shift to the side in order to swing her weapon. She did not get much behind it, but it was enough for the heavy blade to bite into a foolishly unprotected shin.
Her efforts were rewarded with a yelp of pain. In another few heartbeats, she was up in a crouched position. Part of her was now thankful for the fire; however, she was not sure that hadn’t been what brought these raiders in the first place. Able to see shadowy shapes, she spied two figures hunched down over somebody who was struggling and still well tangled in their bedroll. The muffled cry gave it away as Chaaya.
Vix saw a dark form coming at her from the left and ducked just in time. The body slammed into her, but she had managed to set her feet and absorb the collision. She was further rewarded by the person folding over her back. Standing, Vix sent the person flipping over and onto the ground with a loud “oof” as the air was forced from his or her lungs.
Not waiting for the person to recover, Vix stepped over and brought her weapon down hard. She knew from experience how jarring a shot to the skull could be for a person’s hands, but she still winced at the stinging sensation. Her next move brought her to the man on the ground holding his shin and wailing. She silenced him with another swing, this one cutting into the much softer tissue of the throat.
Rushing over to Chaaya’s attackers, Vix caught the first one off guard and drove the belt knife she’d drawn along the way into the small of the back were the kidneys should be located. She’d opted for the smaller, easier to wield weapon now that she was not simply trying to hack her way free. The person crumbled, unable to even yelp as the pain was so completely devastating.
She saw Chaaya holding the wrist of her attacker, a large knife inches from her face. Wasting no time to allow the person to register the loss of his accomplice, Vix plunged her dagger into the side of the man’s neck and then gave an added kick to send the body sprawling.
She was just leaning down to give Chaaya a hand up when a strangled whimper came from the darkness. Vix ended up giving the Indian woman an unceremonious yank to her feet before dashing to the sounds of pain coming from just beyond the light of the fire.
It was Marjorie.
The woman was on her side, the shadows making her little more than a dark blob. Even once Vix was kneeling at her side, she could barely make out any details. Between the sudden transition from the campfire to the darkness, and the lack of any moon or even starlight to see by, she was basically blind.
“My side,” the woman gasped. Vix leaned over and ran her hand along the woman until she reached the warm wetness of blood. Her hand stopped when it came to the hilt of the weapon that was jammed between Marjorie’s ribs.
“Just be still,” Vix shifted into her nursing mode and spoke in soft comforting tones to the woman. She eased Marjorie’s head into her lap and stroked her brow as Chaaya arrived.
“They did in poor Gordon,” she whispered. “Nasty business that. Looks like he was hit in the chest by a pick-axe.”
Vix shuddered. Luck of the draw was the only thing that had prevented her fate from being identical.
“How’s Marjorie?”
“She’s gonna be fine,” Vix whispered, knowing it to be a blatant lie. The woman was fading fast. She simply saw no point in letting Marjorie’s last seconds be ones of dread.
It was no more than another five or ten minutes before she felt the woman give a slight tremor, a wheeze, and then one final exhale. Vix eased from under Marjorie’s head and climbed to her feet.
“I thought…” Chaaya’s voice faded as Vix stepped past her and went straight to the campfire.
“We are leaving this place right now.”
Vix began kicking dirt onto the fire. Part of her considered leaving it in case another band of miscreants decided to come look for their friends, but she decided against it. That fire would give them a specific location to start from if there was a search.
After gathering up a few of the more choice weapons used by their attackers, Vix started off. Chaaya did not say a word, but simply fell in beside her as they pushed into some tall overgrowth that was probably once a farmer’s field.
“Are we going back?” Chaaya asked.
“Nope,” Vix grunted as she pulled herself up and over a stone wall that was just a shade taller than waist high. “Wherever these blokes came from, it is close by. I want to get someplace where I can look around for any signs of them.”
“Okay, first, how do you know that they came from someplace close? And second, what do you plan to do once you find them? There are only two of us.”
“They weren’t even carrying water. They had to come from someplace nearby. And I will figure out that next bit once I see what we are dealing with.”
That seemed to satisfy Chaaya. At last, Vix found what she’d been searching for. She knew that there had been a power line tower in the area. If she could climb it, she might be able to find where her attackers had come from. And as for her plan…as always, she did not actually have one. They always got blown to hell anyway.
***
“You have to be checked out by the doc, and you will need to fill out a survey about what skills you possess. Also, until you have completed your three month trial, you have to stay in the temp shack. Good news on that is that we haven’t had a resident in temp for over five months, so it will be all yours for now,” Daryl Sheppard said as he walked along the wide path, pointing out a large building with a huge grassy area in front.
“You still get many folks coming in?” Chad asked.
He was interested in the answer, but at the moment, he was more interested in a single-file line of a dozen children being walked along the banks of the lake by a lanky man with a guitar on his back. He hadn’t seen that many children of the living variety in one place since Dustin’s compound. Even then, he didn’t recall anything like this. None of them could be older than six or seven. That meant every single one had been born post-apocalypse.
“Not so much these days. Last influx came just over a year ago. Some folks from the Lake Tahoe area. Some warlord wanna-be invaded them and basically took all the women, executed the men. A dozen or so managed to escape,” Daryl replied. “Hard to believe that people are the biggest threat these days.”
Chad nodded, an uncomfortable laugh escaping his lips. “Yeah, we’ve seen enough of that ourselves.”
“Smart idea, by the way,” the man said with a shake of the head. “Can’t ever be too sure anymore.”
Chad chewed on the inside of his cheek a bit as he tried to figure out the best way to bring up his next and largest reason for apprehension. He looked around at what would amount to a paradise as far as Ronni was concerned. The fact that they were this close, but still so far, was plunging daggers of anxiety into his heart.
“I guess I got one more question.” Chad stopped and waited for Daryl to face him. “What is this place’s stance on people who show immunity?”
“That’s the million dollar question, ain’t it?” Daryl laughed. “
We had a rough experience with that sort of thing back in the early days. Thing is, we learned how to deal with it. Even have a simple blood test that tells if you will show immunity.”
Chad’s expression must have changed drastically because the man held up his hands. His smile was still there, and it looked genuine all the way to his eyes. Still, Chad could not help it.
“No, we don’t shoot people up with tainted blood or anything like that. We are lucky to have honest to goodness doctors here. They worked like crazy for the first few years. We lost some folks bringing in things that they would require to run tests. Even had a bit of a rift over what was more of a priority, the solar grid or the little devices that the doctors needed. Came to blows at a few of the council meetings.”
“Wait.” Chad held up his hands to stop the man. “Solar grid? I didn’t see any solar grid.”
“We keep it on the far side of the community. Way back in the day, we rationalized that we would probably get more people coming north from California than we would coming south from Oregon and Washington. We figured that would be the first place that bad guys would want to hit.”
“Wow, you guys thought of everything.”
“Trust me, this is the result of years of trial and error…mostly error.” Again Daryl let loose with a good-natured laugh. “Anyways, we have a blood test that is part of your “welcome to Green Springs” package.”
“I guess I will go get the ladies,” Chad finally said after another long look around.
“We can send an escort if you like,” Daryl offered.
“No thanks,” Chad replied with a shake of his head.
He was escorted to what was apparently only one of six entry gates to the community. He shook hands with Daryl as well as the guards who all seemed more than happy to allow him inside when he first arrived. That had actually been his first question. Daryl had pointed to a dozen men and women up on the catwalks that ran the entire length of the walls that kept this place safe. Each of them held a crossbow cradled in their arms.
