“Sweetie... No, leave him.”
Both looked at me.
“We don’t need anything from this restroom. Out of sight, out of mind and all. Besides, I really don’t want to touch that thing. By the time we come back, there’s bound to be someone who’s annoyed me. I’ll make him do it.”
“Good enough thinking,” said Lizzy.
“I would have said annoyed us,” I continued, “but everyone annoys you.”
She scowled, then smiled again. “You and Briana only annoy me a tiny bit, and since that’s the case, I want details about what you’ve been doing. I know you’re doing something. You weren’t before, but you are now. It’s all over your faces. Mary says so, and she’s the one to tell.”
“Mary is observant,” I agreed, “but I’m going to have to refrain from answering.”
“Good choice,” commented Briana, firmly.
“Why the fuck not! Are you worried she’ll cut you off? Or maybe cut something off? Possibly with a knife, or hedge clippers, a saw, a chainsaw, a tree saw, one of those two-handed lumberjack saws?”
“Enough Lizzy. You know that you have issues, right?”
After a series of escalating comments, most of which are unfit to print or write, really to talk about in polite company, but suitable for a locker room, we left the restroom and grabbed a pair of small shopping carts. I hit the actual pharmacy while Lizzy loaded hers up with bathroom items. The newcomers had been running short on soap and shampoo and the like. The pastor also asked for whatever we came across.
Lizzy made several trips in short order. With Briana watching the front door, and the others all locked – we checked – there wasn’t any worry of attack, so it went fast. Pretty much everything she took was dumped in the back of a pickup. We had some tarps and bungee cords which we would use to secure it. The best items ended up in Lizzy’s and my Jeep, with Cherie taking her pick as well. There were benefits to being the ones looting, always were and always would be.
Among the drugs, I seized all the Tylenol, aspirin, and every other over the counter type I found. Most had expiration dates a couple years away, so we were good till then, probably longer. I don’t think they’ll go bad, but rather just become less effective. I might be wrong on that point however. I also grabbed bandages, band aids, gauze, and the like, but I hesitated by the real prescription medicines.
A few names I recognized and knew about, yet the bulk were alien to me. I didn’t know what they did or dosages or side effects or anything, but then, someone else might. Maybe we’d find a book outlining their use. There were pamphlets aplenty. Those might even be useful, although I was guessing they were probably advertisements. In the end, I went ahead and grabbed everything. The place was small and the stocks limited, so when we were done the back of the pickup was not even a quarter full.
“I grabbed some condoms,” said Lizzy. “Found them on a corner rack, next to the toothbrushes. Stupid place to put the things.”
We were on our way to the grocery store. It was privately owned or part of a chain whose name I did not recognize.
“I don’t know what you and Lois are going to be doing with those,” said Briana, “unless there’s something you’re not telling us, maybe something really icky. Do I have to ask Mary?”
Lizzy rolled her eyes. “Don’t try that. These are for you. I got every box they had. I figure several hundred at least, should last you, what, a week, two maybe?”
“I’d hit you,” laughed Briana, “but you’d probably shoot me. Nah, give them to the church people or Cherie – she’ll probably want them, damned lying...”
“You sure?” asked Lizzy, surprisingly serious, after Briana trailed off. “Things being the way they are.”
“It’s been discussed,” I said, simply.
What I didn’t mention was that I am highly allergic to latex, couldn’t even wear the rubber gloves that doctors used. Briana had thought it funny until I pointed out that my skin started to blister and peel if I touched it for too long.
“Fair enough. I’d maybe like kids myself someday. I wonder if there are any artificial insemination clinics still working.”
“I doubt it,” commented Briana. “You’ll have to get your sperm donation the old fashioned way. Think you could tolerate that?”
“I bet I could, if it was Jacob helping out.”
Briana rounded on her. “Don’t even think it! He’s mine!”
It was good to be considered the personal property of a beautiful seventeen year old. No stress involved. No potential conflicts or troubles. It made life so very, very simple.
“I’m kidding, and you know it.”
“It’s not funny.” Briana was not at all amused.
“Zombie,” I said.
Both looked up immediately.
“Where?” Lizzy had her gun extended and ready.
“Nowhere ladies. I just wanted you both to get off that topic. Besides, I’m sure we could use a turkey baster on you instead.”
That defused matters entirely, and we resumed our looting.
* * *
The next day was spent within the Nebraska National Forest. Dean had brought back an incredible load of lumber, far more than we needed. We also had plenty of shovels and other tools. Best of all, it had rained the night before making the ground nice and soft. Putting in the post holes proved easy.
Miranda filled Simon and the pastor in on our success regarding Hemingford and the progress we were making, and I later sent Cherie and her over to the lake camp to drop off some soap, medicine, and food. I also instructed them to make it clear that we weren’t going to keep supplying the church group indefinitely. They would need to contribute to the work at some point in the very near future.
“I just love digging holes,” said Briana. She was wearing a tank top and shorts, both damp with sweat. “And while I love you staring at me, I rather you help more instead.”
“I’ve noticed that even though we have been alternating, I end up doing about double what you do.”
“You’re twice my size, so that makes perfect sense.”
“I’m not quite that big Briana, and you’re younger, not to mention in much better shape.”
Her smile became a scowl. “No bringing age into it. I don’t like those conversations. I’ve told you this before.”
There had been some whispering about us, not too much considering the circumstances and the fact we were both generally liked, but Briana found it disturbing and insulting. Her point of view was that she was essentially an adult and could do what she wanted. It wasn’t as if she was thirteen like Mary. Besides, Briana turned eighteen in three months anyway, that magical and completely arbitrary milestone.
“No age comments then,” I agreed.
Just as well. It still bothered me somewhat that I was so much older. Actually, that wasn’t it. The problem was that she was so young. That’s what it was. It was all Briana’s fault for being born so late. What am I thinking?
“Another few inches and this one’s done. I’ll start the next hole.”
“How is it,” she began, pausing, “that Cherie doesn’t have to work? Ever?”
“She works, just not physical labor.”
“You never even ask.”
“Do you think she’ll do it Briana? Maybe, but she would be pissed off and uncooperative. So instead I have her run errands, keep watch, which she is very serious about paying more attention than most others, and keeping an eye on Miranda. Cherie is good at these things.”
“Everyone should sweat Jacob.”
“In a fair world, yes, but this isn’t fair. Besides, I don’t trust Cherie all that much. I know she’ll stay with us since she doesn’t want to be alone. I trust her to watch for zombies and warn us so we can kill them because she doesn’t want to be bitten. That’s about it. Lizzy agrees with me. We’re going to keep her to the side. It may mean less work for Cherie, but she’ll be out of the planning as well.”
Lizzy was the de facto second i
n command. I’d never really sought a leadership position, but it somehow ended up that way. While Briana, or most anyone, was more diplomatic and easy to work with than Lizzy, the woman was very capable. She’d never be in charge however. People didn’t like her enough to tolerate such a thing, and she knew it. This didn’t bother her though, another point in Lizzy’s favor.
“How is it that Lizzy hasn’t dropped more weight?” asked Briana. “She pushes herself even harder than us.”
I looked over to where she was working with Lois. Lizzy was still every bit as big as before.
“I’d been noticing that as well. Maybe we should put her on a diet. You get to tell her.”
“Not a chance. We’ll have Mary do that. Lizzy won’t bash her in the face, no matter what she said or did. I do think she’d hit me, especially if I told her no more junk food.”
“She’s trying to eat as much of it as she can, before we run out entirely.”
“She tell you that?”
I shook my head. “My theory. Or she might just be a natural glutton.”
Briana finished the hole and stepped back. Someone else would plant the pole. “At least she’s not diabetic.”
“Probably be dead by now if she were. Lack of those kinds of medicines will have taken down a bunch of survivors.”
“How many do you think are left?”
We moved to the next spot. Dean had calculated and was marking the ground with a can of yellow spray paint. So far the holes had lined up correctly.
“I think there are hundreds, maybe thousands of little groups hiding in the wilderness like us or established in small, rural towns like Edwin’s band back in Oklahoma.” I stepped on the shovel, pushing it deep into the soil. “I think there are still tens of thousands in the cities, hiding in apartments or offices. Some might even have big bands that secured large areas, maybe on a neighborhood level even.”
“But what do they do when the food runs out? That’s the problem. That’ll always be the problem.”
“They’ll make do, move, or die. You know, I really would like to get in touch with some others. I want to know what’s happening across the entire planet. Damn, I hate not having the Internet.”
“I hate not having electricity. I’d like to be able to use a hair dryer on occasion.”
I paused to wipe the sweat from my eyes. It wasn’t that hot, but it was muggy. “We’ll get a generator soon, maybe use wind power since we’ll run out of gasoline eventually. That’ll give light, some movies for entertainment, and the sort. Until everything breaks down anyway. A few years of relative comfort, I think, after we get some homes built that can withstand the winter. We can also power up radios, proper ones that have a good range. Then, possibly, we can talk to other survivors, get their stories, see how they’re living, maybe get some good ideas.”
“Would be nice to have some news,” she agreed.
* * *
We finished the fence shortly after dark, working by lantern light. Getting it up that fast had been impressive, but I was exhausted and barely able to lift my arms. If any zombies showed up, I would be most irate, possibly devoured and turned since I wasn’t sure if I could use a gun or not. Still, we were able to set up tents inside. That made everyone happy. Sleeping in a car might be safer, but it was never fun.
There was going to be a watch of course, two people at all times. Briana and I took first. Lizzy, fortunately in private, told us no alone time while we were supposed to be working. You had to love her. One person would be by the gate, it being the weak point. Zombies remembered enough to work latches and doorknobs. They might figure it out. We’d put a bar across it, but, even so, it wasn’t worth the risk. The second person would walk around the perimeter stepping on boxes to take a look around. If that one got tired, they could switch.
The reason we took first watch was purely selfish. I didn’t want my sleep interrupted. Middle watches were hard. You know, a lot of what I do is selfish. It doesn’t bother me though, not as long as the work is done and no one is complaining too much.
The encirclement was large as well, covering about a half acre. That was more than enough space to ensure the tents were kept appropriately distant from the outhouse. The latrines were still a work in progress, lacking a roof, but there was a rickety wall providing ample privacy. The toilet paper was in zip lock bags to keep it dry. Now, running out of that was really going to suck. This was a conclusion I came to time and time again. It was something I dreaded. Yes, I realize it seems pretty insignificant, but have you ever tried wiping with leaves or, worse, your hand?
After we woke our relief, Briana and I crawled into our tent, too tired to do more than give each other a brief kiss. Then we passed out, with our clothes still on.
Interlude – Dean’s Story
Dean’s story was somewhat similar to that of Susan and Timothy. He’d been camping in the Nebraska National Forest when the zombie apocalypse began. Being self-employed, Dean decided to take a few days off and meet up with a pair of old friends, Jake and Pamela, who had driven in from South Dakota. Not caring for the more popular areas, particularly in the summer when the crowds were at their worst, the three headed for one of the lesser known campsites. There they’d pitched their tents, drank more beer than they should have, and blissfully passed out.
Distant screaming woke Dean. Bleary eyed and more than a little hung over, he stumbled from his tent wearing nothing but boxers.
“Hey guys, you hear that?
He later learned the commotion was from the pastor’s church group, beside the lake.
A shout sounded from the other tent, and Dean turned just in time to see Jake slam against the side, nearly collapsing the thing. He clawed at the inside of the nylon, trying to get hold of the zipper. Then it was jerked up, and Jake tumbled out. Only embers of the campfire remained, but it was enough for Dean to see the blood streaming down his friend’s face, enough to notice the huge chunk of flesh missing from his cheek, along with a portion of the upper lip.
“What the… Jake?”
The man tried to say something, tried to reach him, but Jake tripped and fell, striking his head on a stone – it had been one they’d used earlier as a seat. There was a loud crack, and he twitched once before lying still.
“Jake!” Dean began to get a grip on his senses and moved to help. Then Pamela exited the tent.
His eyes and attention shifted to her. He’d known the woman since they were fifteen – they’d even dated a few times – but Dean had never before seen her without any clothing, hadn’t even seen her in a bathing suit since graduation. Her waist wasn’t as narrow as he remembered, but still shapely. Pamela’s legs were well toned, and her breasts were large and firm. Plastered all over her pale skin was the blood of the best friend he’d ever had.
Dean felt the bile rise in his throat.
“Pamela, what’s happening? What did you do?”
Sated on the flesh of her longtime boyfriend, the woman paid him no mind. She just walked around the campsite without purpose, and with his attention glued to her, Dean neither heard nor sensed the other zombie approaching from behind. A pair of arms grabbed his shoulders, and he was roughly pulled back. Dean staggered and stepped on a jagged piece of stone, piercing the arch of his bare foot. Losing his balance, he suddenly found himself sitting on the ground. The zombie was dragged down with him, only to lose its grip and tumble into the fire.
The hot coals were more than enough to ignite the man’s T-shirt. The cloth went up in flames as the monster lurched to its feet.
“Stay the fuck away from me!” cried Dean, as he scrambled backwards in terror.
The zombie’s clothing vanished, and skin, still burning, turned black and began to peel away, one layer at a time. This did nothing to slow or hinder the creature.
“Oh, God.” Dean began to gag.
He managed to get up and jog back a few steps, looking about desperately. Jake was unconscious or dead, lying in the dirt. Pamela was walking about sensel
ess. And this, this thing that should be screaming in agony was bearing down on him. Dean picked up a stick and slammed it against the monster’s chest. It rocked back. He hit it again, and it fell only to rise once more.
“Stay back,” warned Dean. What was going on? He brandished the branch he was holding.
The zombie was not impressed. It moved forward, and Dean struck the monster as hard as he could, managing to bowl it over. Then he darted around behind his tent. The zombie looked for him after it struggled to its feet a third time, but Dean was out of sight. Then screams from the pastor’s camp caught its attention, and the zombie, still smoldering, shambled off in that direction.
Sighing in relief, Dean started for Jake. Then he stopped and went to the opening of his tent instead. Reaching inside, he grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. A shirt followed. He was reaching for his boots when Pamela passed by. He stopped and watched her carefully, but she was still in a daze. The woman didn’t even seem to notice him. Dean got his foot in the first boot.
“Jake!” he exclaimed, when his friend began to move.
His words caught the newly reanimated corpse’s attention, and Dean got another good look at the bite wound on Jake’s face, made worse by protruding shards from his shattered cheek bone. That wasn’t the limit of the injuries however. Striking the rock had broken his jaw, and it moved at a weird angle, missing most of the teeth, as the mouth opened and closed in anticipation of feeding.
Dean didn’t ask any more questions. He hastily got his final boot on and was up and moving just before Jake reached him. He ran out of the limited light cast by the campfire and barreled right into Pamela. She was knocked over, and he fell atop her, one hand pressing down on her left breast. The other landed on her face, and he felt the warmth of Jake’s blood on her lips and chin.
On a side note, Lizzy made some comments about Dean feeling up a zombie. That did not go over well, but, to her credit, she did apologize. It was in poor taste and unjustified, especially since this was a dear friend of his.
Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary Page 27
