"I'd rather have a full belly and a safe place to hide."
"We been safe for almost a month now," Joel said.
Just like that, another mindless wretch careened out of the tree line. I knocked him into next week before he closed on us.
I leaned over to look the twice dead man over. The guy was about five foot six, and he was really big. His belly should have been distended, but maybe he'd recently had a full meal. He was dressed like he worked on a farm, complete with a flannel shirt, jeans, one boot, and he had a full beard. Either that or he'd been a hipster in life. This was Oregon after all. He had a sock on his other foot, but it was covered in blood from crashing through the woods.
I wondered whose.
His head was turned to the side, cheek pressed against the ground. One of his eyes had popped out. Gross as gross gets.
"Has it been that long?" I said, getting back to my conversation with Joel.
"Yeah. Longest we've had a home since we crashed into San Diego."
"Then that house in the jacked up under development neighborhood. Seemed like we'd never get out of that place alive. How in the hell do cults like that exist?" I said. I didn't mention we'd had the position assaulted by a small human force and had to defend it. I wasn't proud of the fact that I'd killed a couple of men, but I was grateful to be alive.
Christ. Zs everywhere, trying to wipe out humanity, and humans turned out to be just as bad.
"Damn if I know, brother. I'm just glad we got out with our skins."
I checked the corpses pockets, dug out a wallet, and went through it.
"Check this out. Paul here had a few hundred dollars on him." I pocketed the money.
I'd add it to my stash later on. Never knew when the world would return to normal if it made the transition and money was suddenly worth something again. Couple hundred bucks would put me over five grand. I could have had a hell of a weekend in Vegas with that kind of money. Had to admit, though, sometimes it worked well for getting a fire started. It also made good toilet paper. Kinda therapeutic. When I was in the service, I never had enough money. Sure, the Navy provided three squares and a place to sleep, but I used to blow a lot of cash at bars and strip clubs. Yeah. I'm a walking fucking cliché.
"That's great. You can buy a couple of cases of rice," Joel said.
"What I wouldn't give for some hot rice. Hell, I hate sushi, but I'd eat the shit out of a few rolls of raw fish right about now."
"Don't like sushi? Damn, man. That's just weird," Joel said.
"What? I like my meat cooked."
"Shoulda known better. Never mention meat to a sailor."
"I got your meat right here," I said and grabbed my crotch.
"Exactly what I was talking about. Save it for Anna. She seems to enjoy your company. Why, I have no damn idea."
"What?" I said with a grin. "She likes me because I make her laugh."
Joel nodded at my crotch. "Like I was saying."
I shrugged and scanned the woods. One thing about our new home, there was no lack of large foliage. At least the farm was off the beaten path. We hadn't seen many other living humans in the past few months. In fact, we'd rarely seen Zs. Sure, the occasional lost soul wandered around, but we'd worked out a way to lure them in while one of us, me or Joel, finished off the dead with a crowbar upside the head. Then the body went into a shallow grave to keep away bugs and small critters looking for meat.
As far as safe locations went, we were in one for now. How long that would last was anyone's guess.
"Do you smell that?" I asked Joel.
"Yeah smells like smoke," Joel said as he sniffed the air.
Might have been a camp fire. I hoped one of the Zs we'd just killed hadn't taken out someone working on their camp because there weren't any firefighters in case a blaze got loose.
Over the last six months, we had found more than one burned out house, or entire block of them for that matter. A careless spark and a home could go up in minutes. No one was around to put them out. When we had flown over Oregon, I had pointed out an entire city that had been mostly burned to the ground.
The wind shifted direction, and the scent was gone, but I did have a sense as to where it had come from. I nodded to the east and Joel squinted in that direction.
Hills rolled that way and were sparsely covered with trees. I wanted to know if we had new neighbors or if it was someone who'd been there since before we'd moved into the area. It was weird here. One minute you're walking along a crappy old road. The next minute you were in an industrial section or you'd find a bunch of apartment complexes.
There were also numerous strip malls, gas stations, and all manner of little shops. We had come across a specialty sandwich place that had probably been picked clean the same week the apocalypse occurred. The menu had interested me thanks to something called the Turkey Pounder. After I got over a fit of thirteen year-old giggles, I had read the description. A full pound of roasted turkey breast meat on a foot long bun with gravy and cranberry sauce. I still thought about that sandwich to this day. Talk about haunting.
There was a large train depot near us, but we hadn't explored it yet. The tracks led toward the big city, somewhere we were planning to check out in a week or two. If there was going to be any pockets of humanity, that's where I bet we'd find them. What Joel had pointed out was that those pockets might not want anything to do with our sorry asses.
"Maybe someone is cooking?" Joel said and nodded in the direction of the smoke.
"Maybe. Should we say hi?"
"Probably not. They might not want company."
Better to make peace and feel them out now than to have them stumble on us and decide we're easy pickings." I replied.
"I like the way you think, Sailor." Joel said.
"That's not what you said when I suggested outfitting an abandoned pickup with metal sides and front."
"That's because it was a stupid idea. What were we going to do, Jackson? Roll out and announce that our presence to everyone in the area? That's a good way to get the wrong kind of attention. Plus, it would be so loud it would bring every Z in the area our way."
"But it would set a precedent, and it would be perfect for taking out Zs. Put some slits in the back or build up a turret. Shoot anything that surrounds us. It wasn't too long ago we were stuck on a stretch of highway surrounded by hundreds of dead fucks and about to be eaten alive," I said.
“I should patent the word Z-scoop,” I said. “We’ll never get stuck in a horde again. I just need to finalize the design and get it fastened on the bus with something other than a bunch of six inch screws.”
“A z what the hell?"
"Like a cattle scoop on a train. We can barrel our way through hordes."
"Do you remember the camper at all or did you drink that memory away?" Joel said.
"That was just bad luck, man." I said.
We had been on the run, pursued by a force of Zs and ghouls, when our camper had gotten stuck on the road. Surrounded on all sides, ammo running low, we barely made it out alive. Only the intervention of the remnants of the military had saved us. Not that Brightstar had been all that great. They had saved us, sure, but they had also done something to Roz once she was bitten. Something that made her a half-shuffler.
"The camper would have worked but we ran out of ammo," I said.
"Like I don't remember that whole fucking day," Joel said. He removed his cap and shook it out.
I remembered it, too. Joel and I had almost come to blows, then Christy and I had become separated from them. I thought they had deserted us, but it was sheer luck when I ran into Joel once again.
Joel's hair had grown out into a decent fro. He swore he was going to shave himself bald. I thought about doing the same thing. Got so that hair was a pain in the ass. Mine had gotten too long a few months ago that a Z had grabbed it, nearly taking me to the ground.
When we were sure an army of the dead weren't going to come crashing out of the woods, we picked up and hea
ded back to the ATVs.
The walk was less than a mile. We'd tucked our little land crawlers in a copse of bushes and done a half-ass job of covering them with some broken tree limbs. After dragging our camouflage out of the way, we mounted up.
A half-dozen crows flew overhead and took station in a pine tree. They squawked at us but otherwise minded their own business. One thing the new world offered was a distinct abundance of freaking birds. Everywhere we went there were birds. They flew away when we fired up the quad bikes.
A few years ago, I took a week of leave and one of my friends dragged me out to a commercial ATV course. We spent the day screwing around on the four-wheeled bikes. I'd been impressed and seriously thought about buying one. However, being stationed on a ship that is frequently at sea changed my mind pretty quickly. Where would I store it? Plus, I had to be honest with myself. I'd probably ride it once or twice a year at most. It would be cheaper to just go back to the course in San Bernardino and pay for a few hours of fun.
The matching Yamaha Banshees roared to life and pretty soon we were back on open territory, and headed toward the source of the wood smoke. The little ATVs were good at eating up the miles and they ran forever on a tank of gas. We estimated, if we took it easy, we could get three to four hours of driving before having to refuel.
I'd mounted a holster on the side of mine and deposited a fully loaded Beretta M9A1 that held 15+1 rounds. The gun was in easy reach should we come across Zs or humans looking to score. Across the back, I'd rigged some webbing to allow for a Remington model 31L pump action shotgun that was old as dirt. After finding the rifle stashed in a corner, I'd spent some time stripping it, cleaning everything, and then getting used to the feel of the gun. Since acquiring the weapon, I'd become quite fond of it. Joel told me they started making this model before World War II, and it was a classic.
I didn't bother telling him that I liked it because it reminded me of the Terminator movies.
Joel followed his own internal compass and led us through a running pasture that had been grazing land at one time. We passed a broken wooden fence, and then a farm that had been burned to the ground. On one of our first scouting missions, we'd explored the ruins and found only a few corpses. Zs or the living, it was hard to tell.
Joel came to a halt and shut off the ATV. I followed suit. He stepped away from the little vehicle and sniffed the wind.
"Got the scent, Lassie?" I asked.
"Fuck you, Timmy."
I smelled it stronger than before and followed Joel's gaze. A column of smoke rose from inside a large copse of woods. Joel dug a pair of binoculars out of the pack on the back of his ATV and scanned the area.
"Well," I asked after he'd been looking for a minute or two.
"Can't see shit."
"You needed binoculars for that?" I said.
Joel grunted in response.
We pushed the ATV's closer to the woods and took our keys. Moving into the low hanging trees, we found a small game trail and shrugged through foliage, ducking when we had to, and pushing brush aside when forced to. The forest had a clean smell. Damp wood, moss, and unturned earth. The ground was mostly spongy beneath us, but the occasional root tried to trip me up. Of course, Joel kept his footing like a pro. He'd scrounged up some combat boots from somewhere, and although they were too big, he had stuffed torn up socks into the toe to make them fit.
The smell grew stronger as did the voices of people singing—or screaming.
Joel turned to me and I met his eyes. Who in the blue fuck was out making all that noise in the damn woods? I had half a mind to turn and get the hell out of here. If some whackos wanted to go out and dance naked in the forest, more power to them. It sounded like the perfect way to attract a horde of Zs.
We moved closer with me following closely behind Joel. He picked his way over the hard ground and managed to avoid sticks and clumps of leaves.
"Maybe we should just leave," I whispered.
"With people this close to us? I want to know what in the hell they are doing out here," Joel whispered back.
I pulled my 9mm, pulled the slide back, and verified I was locked.
We came across a break in the copse, and the group came into view.
Joel raised his hand, and then lowered himself very slowly to a crouch. I followed suit but moved beside him.
Through the break in the trees, the group were revealed. I squinted my eyes and wondered what in the hell they were doing.
There were only a few people in a pen of all things. They were dressed in dirty clothes, but who was I to judge? Not like we had working washing machines any more. Their shirts and shoes were brown like they'd been made out of big potato sacks. A couple of the women wore dresses that hung low, almost sweeping the ground. They were unkempt. Hair unruly and faces dirty. One of them was just a kid. Couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. He had twigs woven into his long blond hair, and his face was covered in mud. Looked more like shit to me.
Around this den of misery prowled a couple of shufflers. Nasty looking assholes, too. A human came out of a small shed and dragged one of the people out of a pen while the shuffler looked on. The door slammed, and then screaming started again. We watched for a quarter of an hour, unable to move as the person went from pleading, to whimpering, and then completely silent. A few minutes later, the man left the shed. He and a buddy dragged a corpse out and tossed it in a pile.
Three or four Zs shuffled aimless around the perimeter.
There was what looked like a dilapidated duplex that was boarded up on one side. Someone exited the left-most doorway and went to pass food among a couple of non-Zs who sat by a fire, shooting the shit.
The immediate area was odd. Trees had been cleared ages ago and grass grown in their place. I suspected this may have been some kind of logging area that had been converted to whatever these people were up to.
Then I noticed something else. One of the windows had been scratched clean in one place, but through one of them I caught a glimpse of several people. One of them was a woman who pawed at the glass, and then was gone from sight. Poor lady had her hair cut almost to her scalp and looked like she hadn't eaten in days. A man took her place and stared out at the whackos. He looked scared out of his head.
Taking in more of the place, I noticed a six foot tall cedar fence running along it's perimeter. Through the overgrown bush, I also spotted some kind of little tents and an outhouse. Whoever these people were, and whatever freaky cult they'd established, they'd been here for a while and intended to stay.
What troubled me was the fact that they had no one on patrol or even guarding the place. Were they that secure? Was the fence electrified? Were the shufflers someone keeping all these assholes in thrall?
"The fuck is this shit?" Joel whispered.
"Cult?"
"Another one? Yeah, I guess. Is that a logo?"
"Logo, that's more like war paint. Recognize it?" I asked.
Joel turned and nodded at me. "I've seen some crazy shit, but worshiping those green-eyed devils is a new goddamn low."
"Did you see the woman in the window?"
"The what?"
"Nothing, maybe I was just seeing things," I muttered.
But had I? Seemed like she was being held captive. I thought about rushing in and demanding to know why they were holding someone captive, but it was really none of my business. Couldn't save everyone in the zombie apocalypse.
The people had painted shapes on the front of their clothing, and it was the unmistakable shape of a bright green eye.
Joel turned and backed out of the little break in the tree line, and I followed as quietly as possible. We hadn't seen any visible weapons, but that didn't mean the crazies weren't loaded for war. They could have guns stashed under their clothes or under rocks and brush.
I was about to mention the woman again when my radio clicked twice.
Joel heard it to so we both scooted back out of our hiding places and picked our way back over pat
h we'd followed. I triggered the radio twice to let Anna know I'd heard her. When we were well clear of the crazies in the woods I squatted next to a hollowed-out log and broke out the little GMRS (General Mobile Radio Service).
"Anna. Everything okay?"
"Where the hell are you guys? You said you'd be back in two hours."
"You miss me, huh?" I replied.
"Creed. We've seen some guys creeping around outside. I'm thinking about just shooting them. Then I'll shoot you when you get back and see if it fixes your sense of humor."
"Who are they?"
"I don't know. I haven't gone out to invite them in for tea and biscuits, yet."
"Thought you said you were thinking about shooting them," I said.
"Or that. Haven't decided yet."
"We can be back in fifteen minutes, give or take," I said.
"I don't need you to knight in shining armor me. I'm just letting you know we have company, I mean had. I think they pissed off a few minutes ago. Probably sensed they were under our gunsights. Christy and I can handle this if they come back since you boys are off having a good time. What did you do, find a case of warm beer and sit around telling war stories?"
"You're grumpy today," I said.
Joel pretended like he wasn't listening, but I caught a smirk as he turned away.
"A few supplies and a weird shuffler-worshiping cult." I replied.
"Did you get pictures?"
I snorted.
"Seriously. I bet CNN will pay top dollar. Hey, while you're out there, if you come across anything that smells like mint, bring it back. I want to make some salsa and we have a serious lack of cilantro on hand."
"What, like go looking for mint leaves?"
"Yes, Jackson. They do grow wild you know. Not all herbs are sprouted in stores," Anna said.
"Uh, okay. I'll be on the lookout." I said. What in the hell did mint even look like?
"If you strike out, there's a place near the stream that may have some. Christy thought she saw some."
"Mint?" I mouthed at Joel. He shrugged and looked away.
"See you soon. Be careful out there," Anna said. "Oh, and if you hear shooting, hurry."
Z-Risen (Book 5): Barriers Page 3
