Z-Risen (Book 5): Barriers

by Long, Timothy W.

  "With a big hammer," I said. "Or a lot of guns. There can be no peace with them. Or the dead. Maybe they will all die out in time. Five years from now, I don't think zombies will be a problem. They rot so fast."

  "True. But if there are survivors there will always be potential fresh meat for them."

  We sat in silence for a while. I leaned back and closed my eyes even though I kept my hand near my holster. I'd gotten it reloaded and stuffed some extra rounds in my pants pocket. I wanted to trust Scott and his friends. Really wanted to.

  But I didn't. None of us could afford to.

  I hadn't had enough sleep. Exhaustion dogged my thoughts, and visions of my friends being slaughtered in the house crowded my head. I put my hand on my 9mm and thought about just getting rid of these three. I could do Scott quick, but Erik would be a problem. After watching him in a fight, I didn't want to think about having to take him down.

  What was I thinking? I tried to think about happy things like Anna's warm body next to mine. But I couldn't go back to bed, not while we had strangers in the house.

  So I stared into space and thought about beer and hot wings and tried not to drool all over myself.

  I snapped awake and found myself alone in the living room. Then a noise caught my attention. I looked down and found Frosty staring at me. She was curled up on the floor but staring at me with those big brown eyes. She perked her head up and licked her chops.

  My stomach rumbled, and that's when I smelled it.

  Someone was cooking.

  I stood and stretched. My neck hurt from falling asleep in an uncomfortable position. We had a bottle of ibuprofen around here, and three or four sounded like a great idea. The rest of my body ached, and I had a bunch of fresh scrapes and bruises.

  Where was Scott? We had been chatting late at night when I dozed off. He could have taken me out with little effort. Knife in the throat. I cursed myself for letting my guard down.

  Someone laughed from the kitchen so I went to investigate. I stood in the doorway for a minute and tried not to drool. My belly rumbled as the smells hit me.

  "We made breakfast." Christy grinned.

  "While you snored like a freight train," Anna said.

  She sat at the table next to Erik and Katherine. Anna was dressed in her usual gear. Dark military pants she'd somehow kept from our days in San Diego. She wore a dark tank top under a thick flannel shirt that was unbuttoned to her midsection.

  Scott lounged back in a vinyl covered chair and sipped from a mug. Something steamed from inside.

  Katherine showed signs of her ordeal, but she leaned to the side so she could put her hand in Erik's lap. His face was bruised and lacerated, but I'd seen worse. Where were Scott and Joel?

  Christy had a feast laid out on the tabletop. She'd saved some of the MRE portions like the coffee packs. A bowl contained something that looked like milk. Probably from the creamer or she had gone out and milked Betsy. There was also a pile of pancakes that made me drool. I didn't even bother with a plate, just picked one up, rolled it into a cylinder, and ate it in three bites.

  "I made them with the last of our flour and some eggs that Scott found while scouting."

  "The hell did you get eggs?" I asked.

  "Lots of birds around her. Just gotta know where to look for their nests." Scott shrugged.

  "Dude, you gotta teach me that trick," I said.

  "No problem. We can go whenever you like," Scott nodded.

  Anna sipped from a mug. She offered it to me. "Drink some."

  I took the cup and nearly fell the fuck over.

  Coffee.

  It was instant, but I took a sip of the hot liquid and let it rest in my mouth like it was some fine wine. I swirled it around, swallowed, and took another huge drink.

  "Easy there, Sailor. Get your own." Anna said.

  "We have more of this?"

  "Yeah. Joel didn't want any and Scott said he got high on life or something," Anna said.

  "That sounds like Scott. He's the joker of our group," Erik said.

  "Nothing wrong with making the best of life." Scott winked.

  Erik's voice sounded gravely and tired. He probably wanted to go back to bed. If even half of the tale he had told us was true, he shouldn't even be on his feet. Man had escaped more death and destruction in a week than we had seen in six months.

  I reached for another pancake but Christy smacked my hand. "Get a plate."

  Anna snorted.

  "Okay, sheesh."

  I took out a plate and piled a pair of pancakes on top. The table was covered with cutlery, cups, and dishes. A plastic container of syrup met my eye. I dumped out a stingy amount on my food because it wouldn't last forever. When we had taken over Fortress, we'd found a few large containers of the treat. Now we were down to less than a half pint. I'd found myself pouring some on my finger and slurping it up when my sweet tooth kicked in.

  "What's Joel doing?" I asked.

  "He went out to check the perimeter. Said he heard something last night," Anna said. "I didn't hear anything on my watch."

  "These pancakes are great, Christy. My compliments to the chef," I said as I devoured them in a couple of bites.

  "I know your supplies can't last forever. How can we help?" Erik asked.

  By leaving us alone, I didn't say out loud.

  "We had a goal," Scott said. "To head for Portland and find the rest of our friends. Now that we have confirmation about the resistance, I don't think we'll be here for much longer."

  "Just need a day or two to recover, but I know that look on Jackson's face," Erik said. "He'd rather we got out of their hair. Don't blame you one bit either."

  "It's not just that. It's hard to find people you can trust. And no offense, but we don't know shit about you three," I said.

  Anna's lips tightened.

  Christy moved around the kitchen cleaning up pans. She dunked them in a sink full of cold water and scrubbed, but I knew she was listening to the conversation.

  "Yeah. Hard to know who your friends are," Scott said.

  "We've had a rough time, and I know I can't say much to dissuade you. But please, trust me, I'm not too keen on going back out there. I was held captive, tortured by those things, told I would be joining them soon. They had us locked in a little room with no food or water. The only sustenance they offered was rotted meat. I knew enough not to eat it and was determined to die of starvation before giving in," Katherine said.

  Erik put his arm around her shoulder.

  "That's horrible," Anna said.

  "It was the worst," Katherine said. "Please allow us to stay a little longer. I just need to sleep."

  I nodded because I hadn't had time to fully consult with Joel, Anna, and Christy. We needed to decide as a group if they could stay. When they had arrived, they had volunteered to give up their weapons. I had locked them in a chest in mine and Anna's bedroom, but that wouldn't keep them out if they were determined to be armed. A hammer could break through the padlock with a couple of blows.

  "Maybe we just need to get to know each other a little better," I offered.

  "I'm down, bro," Scott said with a smile. "I can start by offering to help around here. I'm good with my hands. What do you need done?"

  "I could use some help on our bus. We're getting it prepped in case we have to hightail it out of this place," I said. "Plus, you gotta show me where to get eggs. If I wasn't worried about drawing Zs here, I'd build a hen house and have them every morning."

  Anna sucked in a breath, and I realized I'd given away the fact that we had a working vehicle.

  "Cool. Just point me at it, and I'll do whatever you need," Scott said. "No problems on the eggs. I have a few tricks up my sleeves. Happy to help."

  I polished off my breakfast and savored the rest of my cup of coffee. Then I washed my plate in the of cold water and dried them with a bath towel. Katherine was silent for the rest of breakfast and quietly excused herself to go lay back down. Erik kissed her and hugged h
er to him. He blinked his eyes a couple of times so I looked away.

  After Katherine went back upstairs, Erik approached me and stuck out his hand. "I didn't get a chance to properly thank you for putting your life on the line. You saved me. You saved Katherine. You have my word I'll do my best to live up to that."

  I shook his hand. Son of a bitch had a hell of a grip.

  "Anyone would have done the same thing," I said lamely.

  "No, not everyone would have done that. Most would have walked away and left us to the dead. You stepped up, and you have my gratitude."

  I didn't know what to say so I nodded. Erik also excused himself and Scott went outside. I had the urge to follow Scott to make sure he didn't try to steal something or come back inside with a gun and put us down.

  I was alone with Anna and Christy.

  "What do you think?" Anna asked.

  "I think we should keep an eye on them," I said.

  "I can do that. Just be careful around him. I want to trust Scott. I want to trust them all, but we've seen where trusting strangers gets us," she said.

  "I know, babe. I know."

  Later, I was puttering around the living room, looking at the bookshelf filled with novels. One of the previous owners must have been in the medical field because there were enough nursing manuals to fill a huge box. There were also a number of cookbooks with everything from crock pot recipes to barbecuing outside. I found a slim book and tugged it out.

  "The fuck is an adult coloring book?" I muttered to myself.

  I flipped through it and put it back.

  "Find anything good?"

  "Jesus Christ." I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  "Sorry," Erik said.

  The man had a light footstep. I hadn't heard him come down the stairs. He wore clean clothing, probably borrowed from one of the closets upstairs. We had collected enough to start a thrift shop while out on our runs. The red checkered shirt was a little too big. His pants a little too tight.

  "Ever heard of this shit?" I asked and showed him the book.

  "No, but it looks pretty relaxing."

  "I'll give it to Christy. She's bored half the time as it is. Hell, sometimes I'm bored. Wish I had an Xbox or Playstation. And electricity. Oh, and lots of beer. I'd even kill for a case of natty light at this stage in the game," I said.

  Erik took a seat in the reclining chair and tried to look relaxed.

  "She okay," I asked.

  "She just needs time. I know how it feels to be kept like an animal by those ghouls, and it ain't fun," Erik said.

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. Scott and I got captured. We were placed in a cage and practically starved. The only thing they would give us to eat was rotted zombie meat. It was a living hell. We only managed to escape with the help of a girl in our kennel."

  "Is she with your friends?" I asked.

  Erik's eyes tightened and he looked away. His hands gripped the sides of the recliner. "No. An asshole killed her. Shot her while he made us watch."

  "Jesus," I said.

  "I took care of him. Left him to the dead after I smashed in his face," Erik said.

  Erik was growing on me.

  "The shufflers have become a lot more organized. I don't know what their end game is, but it's not good for us," I said.

  "No, sir, it is not. They want us to join their army," he said. "Or join the help. I don't want to either."

  "Alright, man. Gonna go out and do some work," I said.

  Erik nodded and turned and looked at the staircase.

  "I'll find a way to help you guys. Just need a little rest. I'm so tired. The last few months have been one fucking nightmare after another."

  "It's cool," I said even though it wasn't. I wanted Erik and Scott in sight at all times.

  Scott proved to be a great help around Fortress. He and I got another piece of siding on the right side of the bus. He worked at putting some murder holes in the metal with a hand cranked drill and saw while I worked with the welder. In a few hours, we had accomplished what I thought would have taken us days.

  When the sun started to set, I decided we'd done enough for the day.

  Even though Anna kept watch from upstairs, I rummaged around in the garage until I found a wrench. It was short, though, and didn't have a lot of heft. I dug around in the back, pushing aside wooden boxes until I came across a copper pipe. It was hollow, had an elbow joint, and a diameter of about two and a half inches. It wouldn't pack the punch of my old friend, but it might work to bash in Z heads.

  "Whatcha gonna do with that?" Scott asked.

  He used a rag to wipe sweat off his forehead and neck.

  "Remember that wrench I was swinging at that shuffler camp?"

  "Yeah. I remember it had someone's scalp stuck to the end."

  "Shit. I hit that guy so hard it turned his head inside out. He'll probably thank me when I meet him in Hell," I said.

  "Hell ain't a bad place. I hear they have nachos," Scott said.

  "Man, I'd be tempted to go to Hell for a plate of nachos. Melted queso all over the top. Shredded chicken, beans, and a big-ass pile of guacamole. Add a half gallon of hot sauce and we're in business," I said.

  "Know what you should do with that pipe?"

  "Yeah. Bash in Z heads."

  "Fill the end with a little Quikrete. I saw a bag in the corner of the farm. Mix a little in a small container, pour some in, let it set overnight, and you got yourself a hell of a weapon," Scott said.

  "Dude," I said.

  We dragged the 80 lb. bag away from the wall. I cut a small slit in the top while Scott dug around on the workbench until he found an old plastic container coated in old paint.

  I poured a handful into the receptacle and added water. I mixed it around with a screw driver, and then added a little more water until it looked about right.

  "That looks good. Got a cap for the pipe?"

  We spent another half hour turning over boxes and looking in drawers. I finally found a steel cap that screwed into the end. Scott held it while I poured in a few cups of Quikrete. I lifted it, tested the weight, and then added a little more.

  "What do you guys have for fresh meat around here?"

  "Not much. We have the cow, but she's supplying us with milk. We thought about killing her for meat but decided on the long haul."

  "Nothing wrong with meat. You guys got any traps setup for game?"

  "I wouldn't know how to rig a trap if it bit me," I said.

  "Let's rig up a few deadfalls," Scott said. "I'll show you."

  "Squirrels?"

  "Whatever. I've had raccoon and it's not bad. Gamey as hell but better than no meat."

  "I'm game. Let's do this thing." I nodded.

  "Got any string?"

  I dug around in a tool box until I found some white twine. "This work?"

  "Yep, now comes the hard part."

  I set the pipe aside to dry, with the open end upright, and we went out to learn how to set traps.

  Scott had me dig out a few large flat rocks. He found the end of a tree that had been shattered, probably in a storm, and dragged it under a pair of trees that had grown close together. He walked around the area until he found some small apples from a tree and picked up a few.

  Scott took out a knife and laid cut a few branches off a sapling. He brought them to a clearing we had designated as our work area. He showed me how to cut them into three pieces. The longest piece had a notch cut in the side and a wedge carved at the top. The second stick we carved a matching notch, and then shaved the end into a point.

  "This is called a figure four deadfall trap. It's triggered when a little bugger goes for the bait," Scott said.

  He laid the parts out until they looked just like a four. I didn't get it, but sometimes I'm not that quick.

  "So, the—whatever—approaches, bites into that tasty apple, and then the rock falls on him. Got it."

  "Yep. I bet this place is crawling with rabbits," Scott said with a grin. "Rabbit ha
unch over a fire, that's the shit, bro."

  "Didn't know Latino's were into rabbit."

  "I'm Mexican. You can say it. It's not a dirty word." Scott winked.

  "I'm from San Diego, man. I know."

  "Anyway," he said and picked up the three pieces, "once they hit the bait, this big rock drops and kills them. Go out in the morning and collect your bounty."

  "And you think this will work?"

  "Why not? Less people around these days means a whole lot of game,"

  The deadfall was pretty ingenious. Once it was set, he let me cut the next trap, but I fucked it up early on.

  "No big deal. Get another twig," Scott said patiently.

  The second try went a lot better, and I managed to get the cross sections to match up. The tricky part was putting pressure on with the trigger so the whole thing didn't collapse like a house of cards. Scott made it look relatively easy. I made it look like I was an idiot. Twice I nearly lost fingers when the rock collapsed. After the second time, I learned not to leave my hands under the rock.

  "So now we wait," Scott said after he'd set up another trap twenty feet from mine.

  "Might be a long wait."

  "That's why we will come back in the morning," Scott said.

  He rose to his feet and clapped my shoulder.

  We spent another half hour gathering apples, and then headed back to Fortress.

  The next morning, I couldn't wait. I rose early and left Anna under a pile of blankets. She had worn a gray hoodie to bed and a pair of yoga pants. She rolled over, let out one deep snore, and then pulled the covers up to her chin. One hand snaked under her pillow, no doubt to touch the .357 she always slept with. Everyone needs to sleep during the zombie apocalypse. Anna just preferred to sleep well armed.

  I hadn't slept all that great. I kept thinking about Erik's story. The girl he'd befriended only to see her get killed. They were so much like us. I had laid there for hours, hand on the butt of my gun, expecting boards to creak as they made a move. But the only thing that moved that night was Anna when she rolled over and threw an arm over my neck.

  I rose at dawn, rubbed my eyes, and thought about going back to sleep. But there was too much to do.