“It could be anything,” he answered.
“Something bad happened. I know it.”
He took her hands in his own. “Maybe. Something bad could have happened. We know how dangerous the zombies are. But they could just be delayed too. Maybe they found survivors and are going to bring them back. Or the city could be empty, and they’re checking it out in more detail. We just don’t know. We can’t know until they arrive.”
Timothy was every bit as worried as his wife. Everyone in the camp was. Eleven lives were in the balance, and most had been friends for years. They were supposed to have come back right away. It was intended to be a quick scouting trip. They weren’t even planning on entering the town. What could have gone wrong?
* * *
Another hour passed before the group found out, sort of. A single car drove down the service road that led to the lake. There was no sign of the others as it parked and two men dragged themselves out. They had blood on their clothes, and it was soon learned that both had been bitten.
“What happened?” asked Pastor Wills, hurrying up to them. “Where are the others? Is Ray coming back?”
The man had come to depend on Ray’s strength of will and purpose. He was a natural fighter who’d saved them during those first horrible hours. If not for his quick thinking and ability to react, the death toll would have been much higher.
“Ray’s dead,” muttered one. He looked at the bloody bandage wrapped about his arm. “Us too.”
“But what happened?” asked a woman. “Where’s my husband?”
“Dead. All the others are dead.”
He helped his companion, who’d been bitten several times on the leg, limp to a tent. Both collapsed inside.
“Don’t,” said the pastor, stopping the woman. “Now is not the time. Allow me to speak with them first. Something dreadful has occurred.”
That was certainly clear. The vacant, haunted looks in their eyes were enough. Unfortunately, the pastor never found out what happened. No one did. Neither man would speak about it. They just stayed in the tent as the infection racked their bodies, not eating, barely drinking. When one finally died, the other called out so he could be put down before he rose. A watch was then kept over the final man. He never uttered a word, and after a while even the pastor stopped asking.
* * *
“What do you think happened?” asked Timothy.
He and Susan were again resting on the fallen tree. It had become a spot they favored and frequented when they wanted to speak in relative privacy.
“I think they made a mistake,” she said, “not necessarily them personally, but the group as a whole. They did something stupid or bad and didn’t want to admit to it. That’s why they kept silent.”
“Possible, but maybe they were upset at having made it out when no one else did. Could be survivor’s guilt.”
Susan shook her head. “I think there’s more to it than that.” She hesitated. “That might play a role though. I mean, if something horrible happened that they were responsible for or involved in and only they then survived it, well, the guilt would add to the reasons not to talk.”
“We’re never going to know, and I really, really want to know.”
“Well, don’t you be getting any ideas about going out there and seeing for yourself. Pastor Wills already said we stay put and wait for help.”
That suggestion – there were no rulings or true orders – came down after the second man was buried. It made sense. They were safe. Not a single zombie had been seen since the original outbreak. The outside was anything but. Their one attempt to discover what was happening had ended in disaster.
“We can’t stay here forever Susan.”
“I know, but we’ll wait until help comes. The police or military or even the park rangers will come to check on us eventually. The pastor said so.” Her tone was doubtful.
“Waiting for a while makes sense,” he said, after a long pause, concurring. “Maybe things will settle down somewhat.”
Chapter VIII
We continued our slow exploration of the Nebraska National Forest the following morning. We’d found a detailed map of the area, including the back roads and hiking trails, in the ranger’s home, and Briana was using this to mark the location of houses and other buildings. Later, we would return to empty them of everything useful. In the meantime, we were just checking for survivors and taking any weapons, medical supplies, bottled water, or food we found. After a few hours we stopped doing even that. We simply ran out of room to carry it all.
Susan and Timothy wanted to take a portion of the loot back to the lake camp, understandable since these were their friends and companions, so I, and eventually Lizzy, relented and said that we would load the back of their pickup with some essentials and drop it off after we finished our explorations. We were keeping the best for ourselves however. We took the risk, and, accordingly, we would receive the greater reward. This decided, we contacted Pastor Wills on the radio to let him know we would be by in a few days.
“It is a wonderful thing to share with others,” he declared, quite pleased with the news.
“Not a problem,” replied Susan. “We really should have looked out here sooner.”
“I agree,” said the preacher. “My caution was a bit too excessive I fear, but it has worked out in the end, for which I thank God. And how are you doing Miranda?”
“I’m fine,” she said, rather cheerfully.
Cherie taught Miranda how to use the handheld radio shortly after we found her. It’s a simple device, and she had no difficulty learning which buttons and dials controlled what. It also gave her something to do, a sense of purpose. Additionally, Cherie was quite chatty with her in general. The two spent a lot of time talking, and they were fast becoming friends.
Briana had her doubts of course. She was of the firm opinion that Cherie was incapable of true friendship. She might associate with others, even like them, but Briana was absolutely certain that it was largely an act on Cherie’s part. The woman put herself above all others and would never do anything unless there was something in it for her. I wasn’t ready to go quite that far, but Cherie was definitely self-centered.
“That’s good my dear,” said the pastor. “Any difficulties that we might help with?”
“Nothing,” replied Miranda. “Well, I’d like a seeing eye dog. My last one died a few months ago. Got old and his heart gave out in the yard one day. I was slated for a new one, but you know how things went.”
“Yes, I do. We haven’t any dogs around of any sort unfortunately, much less one properly trained, but perhaps God will provide for you in some unexpected way.”
“It would be nice,” interrupted Lizzy. “Ask him for some zombie repellent when you next pray.”
“I will do so,” he promised, nonplussed by her comments, “although I must say, I don’t anticipate receiving any.”
“Well, we can always hope.”
“And have you found any zombies?” he asked. “The people here do want to know.”
“Not a damn one,” she replied. “Can’t believe it either.”
“I have assured you that this area is safe.”
“Best to assume otherwise you know. Wouldn’t want to get eaten because you’re stupid and careless.”
“We are maintaining watches,” said Pastor Wills. “Simon was quite instrumental, with his stories of what he had seen, in pushing that, but, like you, we have seen nothing. He is out fishing with Michael at the moment but was kind enough to lend me his radio. I hope you don’t mind me answering in his stead.”
“Not at all,” said Lizzy, “as long as someone answers. We get angry if we’re ignored, and I’m very vindictive.”
In the mirror, I saw her Jeep swerve to the side. She really should let Lois or Mary do the talking, at least when she was behind the wheel.
Actually, it was the pastor we spoke with most often. He kept apologizing for this fact as if we cared or would somehow be offended. Simon was
spending most of his time either with his son – Briana thought it was to keep the boy away from his psychotic mother, a good thing – or countering Julie’s comments about us, primarily me, another beneficial activity.
“Briana, ask him what Julie’s been saying lately.”
“That’ll be fun,” she muttered. “So pastor…” This was into the radio. “…this is Briana. Tell me what sort of stories Julie’s been spinning. Is Jacob in league with Satan yet? He might even be growing cloven hoofs to replace his feet.”
There was laughter on the other end. “That is an apt description child, though the lady has gone past that.”
“Really?”
I began to laugh as well. It was too pathetic not to.
“Simon continues to set the record straight,” he assured us. “There are some who do listen, mostly the gossips who like to hear the bad about others. The majority of her hateful efforts, and I do agree that they are spurred by an unreasonable level of anger and sorrow about her unfortunate daughter, will come to nothing. The people here will be grateful for the food you’ll bring by later. That will further mitigate the accusations. Do you have a time frame when we might expect them?”
Briana looked over at me.
“Couple of days,” I said. “Three or four max. We’ll have checked out everything by then.”
We had been moving in a rough circle and our route wouldn’t take us back to the camp until we were finished. Granted, we could easily have detoured to do a drop off, but Lizzy wanted nothing to do with the people there. She did not like the stares and whispers, or their general stupidity. I agreed, but my motivation was wanting to complete our survey of the area as quickly as possible. Even a delay of an hour or two seemed excessive.
Briana relayed the information.
“That’s fine child,” he said. “If you come across any board games or toys, please bring them back. The children are becoming restless, the adults as well.”
“I’ll bet,” said Lizzy. “Why don’t you check out some places yourselves? You have the people for it. Just make sure they have guns in case you do find zombies. Gotta be safe, and running isn’t the best strategy for that. You’ll tire out way before they do.”
“We have very few weapons,” replied the preacher, “as you know, but we will assist later. I don’t feel comfortable having two groups moving around right now. That is a lot of people spread out and in potential danger.”
He was cautious, and I suspected he still hoped for eventual rescue. Simon’s stories had to be chipping away at that belief though, in tiny, incremental bits and pieces.
“Lazy, lazy, lazy,” chided Lizzy.
“Pastor Wills is anything but lazy,” protested Susan.
“Ah, Susan, it’s good that you have rejoined the conversation. I’d thought you were maybe taking a nap.”
“No, sir,” she replied. “I just didn’t have lots of nonsense to say.”
“I’ll have you know,” stated Lizzy, “that less than eighty percent of what comes out of my mouth is fucking nonsense. Some of it is useful.”
We could hear Mary saying “not much” in the background.
“We have guns for you too,” added Susan. “I don’t think we’ll need them for zombies, since there are none, but we could use them to hunt.”
She was still adamantly opposed to having a pistol or any other weapon on her, but Susan had stopped looking at the gun Timothy carried as if it was the serpent that tempted Eve. And she didn’t mind rifles or shotguns that were used for hunting. While she never shot anything in her life, her father had apparently hunted quite a bit, and the family generally ate whatever he bagged.
“There are those among us who do enjoy the activity,” agreed the pastor, “and I’m sure the people would like some fresh barbecue or stew or whatever could most easily be prepared. There have been complaints about eating so much fish. I’ll be sure to have them do the skinning and cleaning out of sight of our more squeamish folk as well.”
“No,” countered Lizzy, “make them watch. Tell them they need to grow up and stop whining. And poison any vegetarians you have. They’re just useless.”
“My dear,” said Thomas Wills, “poisoning people because they do not wish to eat animals seems rather drastic, don’t you agree?”
“I never agree with anyone.”
“If I say Lois is cute,” asked Briana, “will you agree?”
“I… Damn it Briana! Not at all fair.”
“Clever,” I commented.
She gave me one of her sparkling, to die for smiles.
“Now children,” began the pastor, “and I do include all of you, let’s try to get along. No teasing each other. Why, someone might think you were friends.”
It was hard not to like Thomas Wills. His views concerning how to best survive the zombie apocalypse might be crazy, but he was definitely personable.
“I’ll be sure to give Briana a big hug,” said Lizzy, “before I shoot her.”
“Jacob said that if you shoot me, he’ll cry.”
I glanced over at Briana. “I don’t recall saying that, now or at any time in the past.”
“You would cry though.”
“Well, yes. You are my sweetie.”
“Sweet enough for a good rub at bedtime?”
“Hey, Briana,” said Lizzy, “your hand is still on the transmit button, and what sort of rub are we talking about? Is this something involving tender pink parts? Can I watch?”
“Lizzy!” shouted Susan. “That is not appropriate.”
Briana’s face was bright red. “I did not mean for you to hear that, so let’s just forget about it.”
“I’m sure we can all disregard such a private matter,” said the pastor.
“Jacob and Briana sitting in a Jeep,” began Lizzy, “rubbing away. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the wild sex.” She paused. “Maybe the other way around.”
“I think I shall withdraw from this conversation,” said the minister, laughing softly. “Please try to be safe.”
* * *
The next day we took a short break to do some hunting. Yes, I realize I didn’t want to waste time going back to the lake camp, but let’s face facts. It wasn’t the time spent so much as simply being there. The place bugged me. It was so incredibly unsafe and poorly organized. But, back to hunting, Briana spotted several deer in the trees, so I stopped and pulled out the rifle I’d found. The scope mounted on it was powerful, far above the one on my .22. I hoped it was zeroed in properly. I hadn’t tested it.
“Are you going to shoot something?” asked Cherie. She’d been behind me and had likewise stopped and opened her door.
“Shoot what?” asked Miranda, her voice rising. “What’s out there?”
“Looks like some deer,” said Cherie. “They’re pretty far off. I don’t think he’ll hit them.”
“Sure he will,” argued Briana. “Jacob is an excellent shot.”
“I’m not an excellent shot, but I am far above average. I can drop one. We’ll have venison tonight and a skin that we can use for a rug or something.”
“Maybe we can wrap all the rabbit skins we have in it,” suggested Briana.
“You have a bunch of rabbit skins?” asked Miranda.
I selected a nice looking doe. She was small but appeared to be tender and tasty. Through the scope I got a good view of her large eyes. She was staring right at me. I almost felt bad, but the thought of eating more canned beans pushed that away. Yeah, all those PETA zombies were probably doubly determined to take a bite out of me.
“Jacob skins the rabbits we shoot with the .22. There haven’t been too many, since we don’t hunt as much as we could,” explained Briana. “That’ll change now, I guess. We kept them in case we needed them for something. They don’t take up much space and weigh nothing. Maybe we can make them into earmuffs later.”
I pulled the trigger, and Miranda let out a squeal. “Warn me next time!”
“Sorry about that.” I had
n’t thought of her inability to follow what was happening.
“Got one,” declared Mary.
The others had gathered around to watch. Lizzy gripped her pistol tightly in one hand and was scanning the area for any zombies that might have been attracted to the sound. None appeared.
“But was it the one you were aiming at?” continued the perky thirteen year old.
“I’m not telling, but you can come and help gut it.” I looked around. “Anyone want some for lunch, or should we save it for dinner?”
“Dinner,” said Briana. “We’ll stop early and make a fire. It won’t go bad, will it?”
“Not in that amount of time,” replied Susan, “and not in this weather. You could wait until tomorrow even, but I’d rather not.”
The temperatures in the northwest corner of Nebraska were much better than what we’d had in Texas and Oklahoma and most of the trip north. It had cooled off quite nicely.
“We can smoke some as well,” she continued. “The jerky won’t have chemical preservatives, just salt, and we can’t do it as thoroughly as you should without a smoke house, but it’ll be good for a few weeks. No point in wasting any.”
Susan did have some useful knowledge bouncing about in her head. She and Timothy were good additions to the group. I had no idea if they’d stay with us or not in the end, but at the very least they were a wonderful replacement for Julie. Then again, anyone, short of a serial killer or a politician, would be.
* * *
“You want to do the cutting?”
Mary and I were almost at the spot where the deer had fallen.
“I think I’ll let you do the messy parts.”
I smiled at her. “Don’t like getting blood on you?”
She glanced back at Lois and waved. Her sister appeared worried, but we had a clear view all around. No zombies, assuming there were any nearby, would sneak up on us.
“Actually Jacob, it’s the smell, if it’s anything like the rabbits. Disgusting.”
Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary Page 22
