Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary

by Scott, Joshua Jared

  The convoy coming down the other side of the road slowed and stopped. A few kids darted out of cars with their parents shrieking for them to be careful, and I relaxed. Children were a potential sign that these folk were civilized, if not outright friendly.

  “Where you all from?” asked a man with a full beard. He was wearing plaid, and I immediately thought of lumberjacks.

  “Texas,” replied Briana sweetly.

  “We’re heading that way.” He brightened considerably. “Joan, get out here and talk to these people.”

  A woman joined him, along with a few others. Some were wearing guns, but none seemed ready to draw. Joan had a big map in one hand, and I motioned at the hood of my Jeep. She quickly spread it out, using some rocks to hold the edges down. It was pretty windy, but they did the job.

  “What’s the best road to take?” she asked.

  “Say hello first,” snarled the man. “Ignore my cousin’s bad manners. She was raised in a barn.”

  I laughed. “It’s okay. I’m Jacob. This is Briana.”

  “I’m Stan. We’ve been having a hard time of it, so do try to ignore the manners.” He was glaring at the woman.

  “Lots of that going on,” said Briana, “pretty much everywhere we’ve been.”

  “Can’t be as bad as up north.” Stan shook his head. “Nah, I don’t mean that, but we had a bad run of it, really bad, lost lots of people getting out, picked up some more, and then lost a bunch again just getting here.”

  “Where are you from?” I asked.

  A few more of his companions wandered over toward us, but most were taking the chance of a break to stretch their legs or sort through their belongings. Some even began to eat.

  “Me and Joan were up in Minneapolis when this started. We tried to stay in the city at first, thinking the lights would come back on, that someone would sort things out. It went bad right off, so after a while we found some neighbors and made a run for it. A lot got killed. We got stuck a few times on the roads, obstructions or weather, and had the damn zombies get right up to our cars.” He paused. “That was worse than the city. Eventually we made it all the way to Omaha and found more people there. We lost half our group getting through that hellhole. Found even more people after that. The interstates are full of survivors moving about.”

  “The back roads are largely empty,” said Briana.

  “We noticed that, later than I like to admit. A lot less of the biters too. We took those afterwards and ended up going all the way west to here instead of south like we intended. Out of the way, I know, but it’s been easier traveling.”

  “What’s south?” I asked.

  “Safety,” said Joan, firmly and with complete conviction.

  Briana snorted, and the older woman shot her a nasty look.

  “Be a bit more specific please,” I requested, “and let me say that the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex is certainly not safe. Granted, we were on the far northern fringe when we left, but those suburbs were lost from the start. A good portion of our town went up in flames.”

  “Yeah,” said Stan, “Minneapolis was the same. Oh, there were parts with plenty of people alive who were setting up forts or something, but the number of zombies was just too much for us to risk it. I figure the other big cities are similar. Omaha was. We’d seen fires too. None in Minneapolis, but we just had rain. Some in other places.”

  “We’ve found one small town that was rebuilding.”

  I told him about Edwin and his people. Joan eagerly marked the location and the route we’d taken on her map. I also pointed out the stretches where they would have to push cars out of the way, construction equipment possibly, in order to get their vehicles through.

  “We’ll stop there,” said Stan, “if only to see other people. It’s on our way besides. Maybe they’ll join us going south. Safety in numbers. You’re welcome too.”

  “We’re moving north actually.”

  He nodded. “We met a lot who did that, headed right up into Canada.”

  “We don’t want to go quite that far,” said Briana. “I sorta like the snow, but there’s limits.”

  “I can see the appeal. The countryside in Canada tends to be empty of everything, once you get past the southern cities. There would be fewer zombies, definitely, at least at first. They keep spreading out.”

  “We’ve noticed that too,” agreed Stan. “Roads have been getting worse. The ones by the cities are full of them.”

  “Anyway, where to the south are you going? Not Mexico I hope. That place has to be a mess. The government has super strict gun laws. The people, aside from the drug lords, are completely disarmed. They would have had a lot more trouble defending themselves than us, and from what I’ve seen we haven’t done all that well.”

  “We have no intention of going to Mexico,” said Joan flatly. “We are going to the ocean.”

  I paused. “You’re kidding?”

  “We are not.” She seemed indignant at the mere suggestion of such a thing.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” Now she was getting mad.

  I shrugged. “Good luck with that plan, but I’m pretty sure you’ll never make it.”

  Before Joan could slap me, Stan grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

  “Stop that, now.”

  “This idiot…”

  “I mean it Joan.”

  She grumbled something and stomped away.

  “Sorry about her. She was always a bit off, and it’s gotten worse. When she gets an idea in her head, well, you know how it can be with some people.”

  “Maybe some Prozac,” suggested Briana.

  A slight smile cracked Stan’s face. Then he turned back to me. “Why not the ocean?”

  “I don’t know the exact demographics, but I’d say half the American population lives within a hundred miles of the ocean. People on the coast itself, along with those nearby, would have immediately thought it presented safety. After all, they know that zombies aren’t going to be walking across the water to get at them.”

  “We hope,” added Briana.

  “And,” I continued, “that means a very large number of people headed right for the water to get to safety. They would have taken every available boat and probably launched without securing any supplies, assuming that was an option. The odds of you finding enough boats or big enough ones for this many people is low to start with.”

  “Then we have the fact that most are kept in the harbors and marinas, generally in or next to major cities. You’ll have to fight your way through a whole lot of the dead just to get to them. That’s a big risk when the odds of finding something usable are low to start with, but if you do it, I’d suggest having your cars stocked with as much supplies as you can scrounge ahead of time.”

  “We hit a grocery store outside Omaha,” said Stan. He pointed at a pair of U-Hauls. “They’re loaded up. We’ve tried for a few others too, not as successfully, but we should be okay.”

  “That’s good. Now, the next problem will be the situation on the water. Even if a boat is loaded with stuff, it’s going to eventually run out, especially fresh water. You’re going to have to land to get more, and, like I said, the coastal areas are full of people. The living may want to take your boat so they can get away themselves. Zombies will want to do what they do. Every stop’s going to be dangerous. Some people won’t want to take the risk. They’d rather force others to do it or steal from them. There will be pirates. There will be violence. It’s going to be a mess.”

  “We have a large group,” said Stan, “over a hundred.”

  “Hope you’re well armed.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. I took that as a negative answer.

  “And remember that there are no more refineries. You have to fuel those boats. The diesel or whatever they use is going to run out real fast, and it can’t be replaced. There are sure to be sailing boats out there, but those’ll tend to be tiny personal craft. Besides, they’re hard to use if you don’t know how. A
t least, I think so. I’ve never tried it myself.”

  “I’m agreeing with Jacob,” said Briana. “The coast is a deathtrap. We never even considered it.”

  Stan looked at the car where his cousin was waiting, her arms crossed as she glared through the windshield. “We’re going for it anyway. We’ll avoid the cities and head for the Texas coast somewhere south of Houston. That’s been our plan from the start. After Minneapolis and Omaha we don’t want to drive through another big metropolitan area.”

  Keeping to back roads and avoiding big cities just kept on sounding like a better and better strategy. Still, I was curious to see one firsthand. I don’t think my survival instinct would allow me to take the risk, but it would be interesting, in a morbid way.

  “Don’t forget the pollution either,” I said.

  “Pollution.” Stan’s brow was furrowed. “How so?”

  Briana also looked at me with interest.

  “Think about it,” I began. “In the United States alone, hundreds of millions are dead – have to be from what we’ve seen – and most died right at the start. That means all the factories and things that had been running would not have been shut down. Just think what that could mean with a chemical plant. All that toxic goop is going to make its way to the streams and rivers and on to the ocean. Cities are burning, releasing more garbage, which will also work its way down. Ships will run aground, maybe some big oil tankers. I think the oceans will be an environmental nightmare in a year or so, maybe less.”

  Briana and I hadn’t discussed the effects of humanity vanishing so suddenly. The issue had only recently occurred to me, my attention being on other, more pressing matters.

  “Maybe,” agreed Stan, tentatively, “but we would still have time, months of safety at least. I can’t pass that up. If nothing else, it’ll give us a chance to come up with something better.”

  “Good luck then,” I offered.

  “You’re not going to try to talk me out of it?”

  “Hadn’t he just been doing that?” commented Briana.

  “No, I gave my opinion and my reasons. That’s more than enough. You decide what you think is best and do it. I won’t be making any attempts at persuasion past that.”

  “What are you two doing?” He leaned up against the side of my Jeep. I did not appreciate this but kept silent. It’s good to be polite and somewhat accommodating, if it wasn’t too much trouble.

  “We’re heading to the Nebraska National Forest, top left of the state,” replied Briana. “It looks like a good place, maybe. If not, we might move into the Rockies, find an isolated valley.”

  She had come up with that alternative the day before, and it was definitely a secondary plan.

  “Well,” said Stan, “I’ll return the favor. Good luck to you as well.”

  “We’re going to go with them Stan,” interjected another man who had been listening.

  “What? Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes, Julie and I were talking about it as he laid out his arguments.” A hand was extended toward me which I shook. “Simon Branson, my wife Julie.”

  “We have no problem with you tagging along,” I said amiably.

  In reality, I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not. There are advantages to numbers, but you also sacrifice flexibility, particularly when it came to moving quickly or reacting.

  “More is excellent,” agreed Briana happily.

  “I think I’ll come too,” said another woman.

  Briana took one look at her and scowled, although she wiped the expression from her face within seconds.

  The woman did not miss this, and she grinned slightly. “I’m Cherie,” she said, taking my hand in both of hers and tossing a nod at Briana.

  “Nice to meet you,” I replied. “If you want to come along that’s fine. Just pull your cars aside so the others can get by. We’ll let them get past before we head north. That’ll make it easier on everyone.”

  This wasn’t entirely true, but I needed a few minutes to discuss the change with Briana. We’d been alone, for the most part, for nearly two weeks. Bringing in another three would change our routine greatly. It turned out to be another five actually. Simon and Julie had two kids, Michael and Juliette.

  * * *

  “Did you see how she leered at you?” snapped Briana.

  “Not really.”

  This was true, but then I wasn’t paying attention.

  “Well, you had better start watching. I don’t like her, and I don’t trust her.”

  Jealously, how wonderful. I could see some of it, from Briana’s point of view. Cherie was older than her, twenty three, and very, very attractive. Now, I favor Briana’s looks. Her skin isn’t quite as perfect, and her face doesn’t have the same model like profile, but Briana is still extremely attractive. Plus, she smiles all the time. She doesn’t have a sneaky nature, and when she’s being pleasant it’s because she really feels that way.

  Cherie had a slightly lighter complexion than Briana, with brown eyes and dark brown hair, almost black. She was an inch or two shorter, and bustier, though her waist wasn’t quite as narrow. I found myself wondering what she looked like nude, and Briana must have sensed something since she threw up her arms and plopped herself in the passenger seat. I joined her inside the Jeep shortly thereafter.

  “You’re the one riding with me Briana. That’s not about to change. That’s not going to change.” This seemed to work. She smiled at me, reassured, or so I hoped. “I expect a back rub sometime soon though. You owe me one.”

  “Not a problem,” she replied, something new in her tone. “Maybe tonight even, if we ever get moving.” She twisted in her seat. “They are driving slow. Rate they’re going they’ll hit the coast in about three months.”

  * * *

  Once Stan’s group was finally gone, heading for what I believed was certain doom, I pulled out and led the way up the road. The Bransons followed along in their SUV with Cherie taking up the rear in a crappy, little Toyota. It looked new, but still. Briana was quick to point out that Cherie’s choice of vehicle was a clear indication of her lack of common sense. I thought about countering by saying her coming with us showed some desire to stay alive, but decided, wisely I’m sure, not to.

  We made it most of the way past Garden City, moving along the same road the convoy had taken, when several people ran out into the street ahead of me, out of breath and barely able to stand. Trailing them were zombies, about two dozen.

  “People everywhere today,” said Briana, surprise overriding the concern at having a shambling horde so close.

  “Zombies are coming!” shouted Julie, her head out the car window.

  I opened my door. “I see them. Not a problem.”

  Julie looked at me like I was insane.

  “You folk okay?” I asked, approaching the newcomers.

  Before they answered I drew my pistol and moved to intercept the approaching monsters. I dropped the five nearest and then returned. The others were still far enough back to ignore for the moment. I also found the shooting was easier and less disturbing than before. I wonder what that says about me.

  “Well?”

  “Fine,” gasped a short, heavyset woman. She was not in the best of shape. Actually, she reminded me of Laura, although not quite so large. The other two weren’t as winded, but they were covered in sweat.

  “This really isn’t the best place to be talking,” I said. “Cherie! Drive up here.”

  When she pulled up, I directed the three to get into her car.

  “Let’s get past the town. We can talk once we’re in a safer place.”

  Without waiting for anyone’s opinion, I got back in the Jeep and, once everyone was settled, led the way several miles north. There was an open area off US-83 that was easy to get to, even for Cherie’s car, and I parked there. The others drew up beside me. It wasn’t even lunch time, but I was certain we’d be spending the night. Turned out I was correct on that count. The thirteenth day started just
south of Garden City and ended several miles north of it. But our team went from two to ten.

  * * *

  “Have some water,” said Briana, giving each a bottle. They looked like they could use it. “And tell us what happened to you. We may even return the favor. It could happen.”

  That earned her a smile from all three. She’s a charmer.

  “We were hiding in town when we heard a bunch of cars. We knew we couldn’t stay where we were, so we ran out but didn’t get to them before they were past, not even close.”

  “Why didn’t you drive?” asked Cherie.

  “Didn’t have a working car and didn’t have time to find one. What’s your name by the way?”

  “Cherie. You?”

  A round of introductions followed. The newcomers were Lizzy, Lois, and Mary. Mary was Lois’s thirteen year old sister, a cute blonde who smiled as much, if not more so, as Briana. Lois, in complete contrast, was quiet and somber and said little, leaving it to Lizzy to give us a quick summary of what they’d been through.

  “We were about to try to get back somewhere safe when we saw you going the other way. Talk about luck,” she continued. “So we ran for the road with more and more zombies falling in behind us. Damn things never give up.”

  “Get far enough away, and be quiet, and they lose track of you and stop,” said Briana. “They can’t see for shit.”

  “Please,” demanded Julie. “Your language. My children are standing right here.”

  “Sorry about that.” Briana didn’t sound all that remorseful, but she did give the older woman a nod. Juliette was only six after all, Michael not much older.

  “You stopped. Thank you for that, several times over, and that’s the short of it.” Lizzy plopped herself, without any sort of grace, on the grass. “I’ll give more later. I just need to rest first.”

  I looked around. There were no zombies in sight, save a few on the road in the distance. “Fair enough. We may as well stay here. It’ll give everyone a chance to sort through their stuff. Make a list of whatever you need. You three will be needing clothes for sure. We’ll find those easy enough, but it may take a few days. Sorry about that. I’ll see if we have something you can use in the meantime.”