Her boots scuffed against the ground, the once extremely fertile soil turning into the sandy, red clay that used only to take up certain parts of the state. It was as if the meteorites had changed not only the atmosphere, but even the earth that they used to grow their food. Even the animals tended to go into hiding more often than not these days. Jenny stopped in the middle of the large courtyard that was made up mostly of one pecan tree, zero grass, and dry dirt. She was surprised the tree was still alive at this rate, considering the decline in life everywhere.
“All Station Four new arrivals, please report to the main hall for your assignments and Station ordered uniform. Thank you,” an official-sounding woman said over the speaker system, the wind blowing her words around the confines of the courtyard with a slight echo in the large space.
Jenny sighed and looked for the sign that would direct her to the main hall where she would be handed a badge with her name and a photo on it, a drab gray uniform, and an assignment for the worst possible job she could ever think of having in this portion of the country. Those jobs typically included making textiles, or harvesting peaches, pecans, or cotton. If you got lucky, you could get a side job in the manufacture of moonshine. It was completely illegal, but people in the area tended to look the other way, knowing full well that everyone needed a vice. You just had to make sure G.O.D. didn't catch you, or you would be arrested and sent to the Dead Zone for sure, with no way back to civilization. Most people barely made it past the first couple of days as far as she knew, but she had flourished there before she made it to Station One. She had only wandered into their open arms because of the fatigue. She was tired of fighting at the time, but now she was itching for it.
The group of new arrivals started to filter toward a door she hadn’t expected to lead to the main hallway but, when she followed them, it turned out she was headed in the right direction. The hallway was long and drab; all grays, blacks, and whites that Jenny was certain would drive her to insanity because of the monotony. There were two men at the end of the line who seemed to be around her age, hopefully meaning she could finally gain some friends at this particular Station. Human interaction was so hard to come by that she needed someone personable to speak to and she didn’t care what it was about, even if it was the state of G.O.D. or the illegal moonshine trade. A redheaded girl, whose hair Jenny could tell had been lightened by the sunshine, fell into line behind Jenny, a nervous twitch causing her to bounce uneasily on her feet.
Jenny attempted to ignore the girl’s fidgeting at first, but couldn’t any longer when she saw the terror in her light blue eyes, tears shimmering along her bottom lids.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked the girl as she reached out to her, remembering quickly that most people didn’t even like to be touched anymore. She pulled her arm back and dropped it at her side, choosing to look at her instead of attempting to comfort her any other way than with words.
The girl was sunburned and began to bite her fingernails, which were already bitten down to the quick. One fingernail bed was even a light red, the start of an infection setting in, she was certain, knowing the girl would need to see a doctor about it and soon.
“Hmmm?” the girl asked, barely even registering the question Jenny had posed to her about her state of unease. With a wave of her hand, she said, “I’m so sorry. I’m not all here these days.” She spoke with a slight southern accent and laughed awkwardly, pulled at a strand of her long red hair, twirling it between her fingers.
“I was just making sure you were okay. You seemed a little . . .” Jenny paused, licking her lips as she tried to find the right word to say next, “scared?”
“Oh no, not scared. Just nervous, I guess.”
“We’re all here for the same thing. What is there to be nervous about?” Jenny asked her as she waved around at the others in line with them. The two men in front of her were watching their interactions closely, making her jumpy as well.
“I came from Station One. This is a lot different than that. The Station in California is very—”
“Liberal?”
“Yes, liberal. Thank ya.” The girl almost hugged Jenny, like she had saved her from embarrassment because the word for what Station One was like hadn’t come to her right away. Even Jenny knew the truth about that Station, and it was a lot like how California had been seven years prior. Everything had changed, but the only things that seemed to remain the same were the values in the particular regions of the country. This showed Jenny that some things never changed, no matter how desperately you wanted them to.
***
Misty wasn’t sure about the girl named Jenny at first, but the more she spoke to her, the more she realized that they could be great friends. She did wonder what Jenny had lost in the meteorite strike that shook the world and turned anyone living in it into monsters, even the ones that still looked alive on the outside. After her mother had gone willingly into the red mist, Misty hadn’t trusted much of anyone, especially those who reminded her of her mother—which Jenny didn’t. Not even a little bit. Misty looked just like her mother and Jenny was the complete and total opposite of the woman who had given birth to her. The one who had also left her to fend for herself at such a tender age where she was still forming bonds and developing her identity. It had all been ripped from her without a second glance, leaving her to become a product of this new world. Hyper-vigilant and never forming long-term bonds because people never stuck around for long. They either died, were killed by the creatures, or moved from Station to Station to find a good home for them, those who didn’t fit in being cast into the Dead Zone. She shivered at the thought of that place despite the suffocating heat.
Everyone who was alive now except for the small children had spent some time in the Dead Zone while the new government took shape and the Stations were built to accommodate those who had survived. Everyone had the same story these days, but it didn’t make them any less heartbreaking.
“What was the first Station you moved to after the strike?” Misty asked Jenny, her curiosity getting the better of her as she stared at the young girl in front of her. They seemed to be around the same age, which was a relief. Most people were either older or younger, those in their early to mid-twenties becoming the thing of legends. Like Millennials couldn’t make the adjustment to the world after it changed.
Jenny narrowed her eyes at first but then relaxed. “I actually started in Station Four and made my way around. After this, if I still can’t assimilate, well . . .” She paused before continuing. “You know what happens next.”
“Oh,” Misty said as she looked down at the ground. Yes, she and everyone else knew where that was headed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
“No, no it’s okay. I guess it’s my fault. I mean, I don’t hear about too many people that couldn’t make the adjustment after battling the Dead Zone for so long before G.O.D. came to power.”
The line moved just a fraction of an inch, and both of them shifted to keep up with those moving ahead of them.
“I understand. I’ve had trouble, too, so I get it. I lost my daddy in the strike and then my mama a couple days later to the mist. I get it.” And she did. Everyone did. Living through the end of the world that they had known and loved was hard, each one of them taking a portion of the losses into their new life with them, not having to look back over their shoulder to see the dead behind them. They were walking among them and weren’t only in the guise of those that rotted underneath the scorching sun.
Jenny nodded and opened her mouth to speak, her tone turning somber as her eyes shifted to the ground. “I lost both of my parents. I saw my mom die, but when I came to, my dad was gone. I have no idea what happened to him, but I still hold onto hope he’s alive out there somewhere.”
Misty took that in as Jenny looked down the line of people behind her, a glint of something in her deep brown eyes that Misty recognized instantly. Pain. Suffering. Utter abandonment. It didn’t matter how they left her, it seemed. Th
ey just had, and Misty could read it on her face and in her body language like she had said it out loud. Misty reached out to touch Jenny, unsure if the contact was all right, but knowing Jenny also needed a comforting hand at that moment. Her hand came to rest on Jenny’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze as it seemed Jenny would fall apart at any moment. She knew she didn’t know Jenny well enough for anything like this, but she also felt that Jenny would do the same for her if the tables were turned. They had both lost people, just like everyone else, but they shared a connection in that loss somehow.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to her new friend.
Jenny shook her head and wiped away a runaway tear, straightening and pushing her shoulders back in a display of inner strength, taking a deep breath in.
“No pity party. This is a new beginning here in Station Four, right? So . . .” she stuck her hand out to Misty, confusion flooding Misty’s mind at the gesture, “let’s start fresh. My name’s Jenny. What’s yours?”
Misty grinned and placed her hand in Jenny’s palm, shaking it as she introduced herself.
“I’m Misty. And welcome to Station Four.”
Jenny chuckled a little but didn’t let go of Misty’s hand. “I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine, Misty. Just fine.”
Misty laughed right along with her, finally feeling as if a small amount of the weight that had been pressing down on her was lifted. After seven years of true Hell on Earth she had finally found someone she could relate to who wasn’t going to show only pity, but hope as well, and wasn’t afraid to show the side of her that was suffering. Misty watched her carefully, checking for any signs that she could snap at any moment. People like her who were strong and held up against the elements of the new world tended to snap at some point in time. Those people normally turned into the new brand of serial killers and humanity couldn’t spare anyone. Not to death at their hands, at least.
She decided then that Jenny wasn’t going to be someone they needed to worry about. She was strong with a good head on her shoulders, and Misty knew she could trust her with her life.
***
Mark listened to the girls as they talked, knowing that they would very well become friends during their time at Station Four—no matter how short of a time that was. Everyone needed to band together, especially now, but his old anxiety of meeting new people began to creep back into his awareness as he watched the girls. Joshua hadn’t expressed much interest in them; his back turned to them as he was trying to get Mark’s attention.
“Hey, space cadet,” Joshua said as he waved his hand in front of Mark’s face.
Mark snapped to attention, looking into his friend's bright green eyes. “Yeah, man, what’s up?”
The only friend that he had earned without any ounce of fear was Joshua and coming together during the supposed apocalypse seemed to be the key to new friendships, drawing people together who normally would’ve had nothing to do with one another. He had saved Joshua from a meteorite, his parents being killed in the strike. Mark’s parents had died long ago, leaving him to the circus. In the pack on his back he still had his stilts, using them whenever he could for whatever task he could. It seemed to be helpful during harvest seasons in the orchards, and he had no doubt he could put them to use picking peaches here at Station Four.
“Ummmm, what are ya staring at?” Joshua asked him as he stared at his friend.
Mark shook his head, “Nothing. I’m not looking at anyone!”
Joshua smiled and turned around, taking in the forms of the two girls behind him, clapping Mark on the back in a show of comradery. A chuckle left his lips.
“Now, that I understand.” He jerked his head back and said, “I’ll take the redhead. You can have the brunette.”
Mark tilted his head and smacked Joshua on the arm. “Really, man?”
He rolled his eyes, irritation rolling through his veins. The line moved, and they closed the gap between them and those in front of them, the two girls following suit. They were pretending not to hear what Joshua was saying, but Mark knew for certain that they had.
“Hey, someone has to repopulate the planet,” Joshua said with a shrug.
Not that Mark didn’t agree on some level, but Joshua’s insistence that he was God’s gift to women and the way he had a joke for everything irritated Mark sometimes. This was one of those moments.
“You know, Josh, one of these days a woman is going to slap you for saying the wrong thing. That or punch you. Women these days are a lot feistier than they used to be,” Mark pointed out to his friend.
Joshua shrugged and laughed. “Yeah, ya may be right. Hasn’t happened yet, but we’ll see.”
“And I’ll have a front row seat to that show,” Mark joked as he nudged Joshua’s shoulder playfully. “Seriously, though. Don’t you think it may do us some good to have friends at this Station? Maybe show that we play well in the sandbox with others. I, for one, don’t want to be sent to the Dead Zone.”
Joshua shook his head at the thought of being back out in the middle of the wilderness, surrounded by the walking dead and no one to watch your back but yourself. Granted, they had had each other out there before Station Three had become their home, which was a lot better than most had. Most were cast out with nothing but the clothes on their backs, and he didn’t want to be one of them. Neither one of them did. So they needed to do what they had to to stay, and that meant making friends and forging bonds.
“I say let’s get settled in. At least get our assignments, and we’ll go from there. No need to go ahead and bond with anyone until we know what we’re doing, right?”
Mark nodded in response, silence following soon after as they waited in the slowly shrinking line for their work assignments as well as their housing placements. There was no telling what they would be assigned to, but Mark knew it had to be much better than the alternative.
***
Jenny followed the housing representative within Station Four quietly; the squeak of her boots on the linoleum floor was the only sound besides their breathing. In her hands was the drab, slate gray uniform that everyone in this Station wore. There was no individuality. Nothing unique so that you stood out from the others. The only thing to set you apart was your skill level at whatever job you were assigned and your willingness to learn, and Jenny had both in spades. Living out in the Dead Zone for so long had honed her survival instincts, turning her into a ferocious killer when she needed to be. On top of her uniform rested an identification badge with her name, photograph, and an assigned residential number so that they could more easily identify you among the ranks.
The hallway was long, the walls coated in beige and the floors a blue speckled white that made her eyes hurt. But it was home sweet home for now, and she would learn to live with it. Well, suffer through it until she got herself kicked out or she left voluntarily. After being alone for so long in the Dead Zone she didn’t bond with others easily, but that seemed like it could change once she met Misty. Misty was open and vulnerable, giving away way too much without being asked, but that was something Jenny could get used to. Honesty, for once, in the new world. It was a breath of fresh air. In this new day and age everyone lied so easily, thinking that somehow it would save them from the greed and violence of others.
The woman who led her to her quarters was tall and sleek with olive-toned flesh and dark hair. She walked with an air of authority but was truly just a lowly service worker who took the newcomers to their assigned living spaces. The clipboard and silver-colored pen didn’t make her any more special, either. Her blue eyes flashed, the white of the floor bouncing off her irises and making them look devilishly cold despite her warm smile. Her steps slowed, and they came to a black door made from solid painted wood that was sleek and smooth like the paint had been airbrushed on. In the very center of it was a brushed nickel plaque with the number five-eighty-five on it, indicating the room number and Jenny’s assignment. There was also a nickel button next to it with a pixelated green center t
hat she had never seen before. Jenny turned toward the door and knew that this woman would want to mosey through her routine, just like at all of the other Stations she had been through, so she waited for the numbers and words to leave her lips.
“Jenny Meldano, inhabitant number six-five-two-nine, assigned to duty in the peach orchard for week one, to be moved to permanent assignment on the wall. Room number five-eighty-five,” she said, her voice a cold, monotone rambling like a robot. With those words, she took a step forward and pressed her index finger to the button. A rolling green light moved over her fingerprint, followed by a mechanical trill as the door’s lock slid from its home so she could enter the room. The woman looked to Jenny, her blue eyes cold and bored as she studied Jenny from head to toe. “Your fingerprint was added to the system upon registration. Just press your finger to the button as I have just done and it will let you in. After this demonstration, you are the only one allowed into this room and only your fingerprint can give access to your living quarters. Despite what some say, we will allow you your privacy."
“Thank you,” Jenny said as she stared into the woman’s bright orbs, a sign of respect and trust in their new world. And it was a stare that the woman returned, both of those things going hand in hand. Jenny reached out to shake her hand and she took it, her palm warm against Jenny’s clammy one.
With a smile, she turned away from Jenny and began to walk back in the direction they had come from. “Enjoy your stay.”
Jenny raised one hand in a small wave. “Yeah, sure.”
***
Great Smoky Mountains
July 2017
The zipping sound of an ATV engine ripped through the trees, the birds rising into the sky with fear of the sound. A hooded man rode the ATV, zigzagging through the foliage of the mountain forest, his hands covered in fingerless gloves revving the engine. Crankers were attracted to the sound, but he kept moving, not daring to take his gray eyes off the course before him as he wove between the trees.
Zombified (Book 1): The Head Hunter Page 8
