by Brown, TW
Mackenzie was standing in the arch between the kitchen and the dining room. She was paler than anything Juan could ever remember seeing in his life. She was holding out her hands, both were slick with fresh blood. Her jeans had a visibly growing dark stain at her crotch. She took a step forward and collapsed. Juan was just able to catch her before her head hit the floor.
“Go get somebody!” Juan screamed.
He was only vaguely aware of Frank’s response. He didn’t hear the door open and slam as the man left. He was focused with his entire being on the woman he held clutched to his chest.
***
“Why can’t we just send out hunting parties?” a voice asked from the back of the room.
Chad had called a meeting of everybody in Yosemite Village in the large, open dining room of the hotel that was going to serve as their home for the foreseeable future. With the threat of rebellion and in-fighting seemingly over, now they had to focus on the task at hand of surviving the winter.
“The temperature has been hovering around zero for the past few days.” Michael stepped up beside Chad after a nod. “We just do not have the gear to withstand being out overnight in that sort of weather.”
“But I thought we had foul weather gear…and some of the shops had some pretty nice sub-zero rated clothing,” another voice shouted back to be heard over the grumbles of the crowd.
“Clothing we have,” Michael agreed. “What we are lacking is tents, sleeping gear, that sort of thing.”
“So why can’t we just hunt in this area?” another voice argued.
“Because all the fighting, fires, and zombies have probably run off every single animal for miles around,” Michael answered with just a slight edge to his voice.
“We are going to have to cut back,” Chad said. His statement was immediately met with a chorus of angry complaints. He let them go for a few seconds before raising his hands to try and settle the crowd.
“We are already practically starving,” a woman cried. “My children can’t keep going hungry!”
Another angry chorus rose. Michael stepped forward again. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited for everybody to notice him and quiet down.
“If I have three volunteers, I will take a small group down into the valley. Be aware that, if you come, you do what I say, when I say it. It is not a democracy. We will make a supply run and try to return within a month. We will be on skis going down, so if you can’t ski, don’t bother raising your hand. I don’t have time to teach you. Once we come down out of the snow, we will be on foot. There will probably be someplace down there where we can find a snowplow or something that we can use to make the return trip. We will bring as much food as we can back with us.”
A lot of heads dropped, eyes searching the floor rather than make contact with anybody and reveal the fear. Chad glanced at Scott who nodded. Brett nodded as well, but Chad gave him a slight shake of the head. Brett scowled, but stayed put when Chad and Scott raised their hands.
“No!” Ronni’s voice broke the silence. “If you are going, then I am too!”
“No, you’re not,” Chad said with a shake of his head. “We’ll talk about this later back in the room.”
“No,” Ronni pushed her way through, “we won’t. We’ll talk about this right now.”
“Ronni—” Chad started.
“No,” Ronni snapped. “You have done more than your share. I don’t know who you think you need to prove anything to here. These people all are all happy to sit back and do nothing because they know that you and Scott and Brett will handle things. And lately, with Mr. Clark happy to run around and kill zombies or rebels, or whatever he does when he takes off into the woods, every single person here just sits on their asses and waits for the next meal…waits for somebody else to go out and kill the zombies—”
Several voices rose in angry protest. Ronni stepped up on the small stage beside her dad, Michael, and Scott. Hands on her hips, she glared out at the faces. “Fine…prove me wrong! Which one of you wants to go with Mr. Clark down the mountain and back into town to search for supplies?”
It was as if somebody had hit a mute button as the room full of people became instantly silent. She planted her fists on her hips and swept the room with her eyes.
“Just like when we came up and found that bus,” she scoffed. “Everybody stayed on the bus while my dad and a few others went out and dealt with the problem. Nobody wanted to risk it. And when those guys where stealing stuff and then tried to rape me…you all just stood there while my dad handled it. You let a bunch of people grab him and put him on trial like he did something wrong for protecting me. And when the fighting started…most of you hid in your rooms.”
“Ronni—” Chad put his hand on his daughter’s arm, but she jerked away.
“No! I am sick of it. I am sick of you being the one to kill the people who get bit…you going out when a bunch of those things find us. I lost my mom, and I know lots of people lost family…friends…but I have you back and I won’t lose you again. Not when all these other people are here and should be helping.”
“It’s not that easy, Ronni,” Scott spoke up. “Somebody has to do this or we will all starve to death.”
“Then let’s just go. We can leave these people here to die and go down the mountain.” Ronni spun to face Scott.
“This is the safest place to stay away from those things,” Scott replied. “Sure…sometimes a few wander in, but down there…they are everywhere. We would never be able to rest. And then there are people like the ones who tried to hurt you. Zombies would only be a part of the problem.”
“The girl does have a point,” Michael spoke up. “If four of us go out there and risk our asses, then everybody else here is going to need to start stepping up. Before we leave, we will have a quick nomination and vote for a…mayor or whatever you want to call it. That person is going to assign every able body in this place with tasks that Chad and I will come up with and write down. Those tasks will be done.”
“Or else what?” somebody shouted.
“Or else you will be tossed out of this place,” Michael replied flatly.
“There are more of us than there are of you,” another voice retorted.
“Then maybe the girl is right.” Michael stepped beside Ronni. “Maybe a few of us need to pack up and head down for good to leave you people to starve.”
“Maybe we won’t let you leave,” another voice, this one female, yelled.
A low hum of conversation began to swirl. Chad glanced at Michael who shook his head very slightly. He moved his hand to his hip and opened his coat just enough to reveal the butt of a pistol-gripped shotgun. Chad raised his eyebrows in surprise. Three days ago, all the firearms had been rounded up after it was announced that everything needed to be inventoried and matched up with the limited and almost exhausted supply of ammunition.
He considered Michael Clark for a moment. He knew very little about the man. What he knew for certain wasn’t something that instilled too much confidence. The man had been a part of the gang stealing food…the gang that eventually tried to rape his daughter. Still, somehow, this man had convinced everybody to turn in their weapons for “inventory” just before announcing that there was not going to be enough food to survive the winter.
He might not trust the man, but it would sure be better to have the man on his side than be against him. He gave a slight nod to the man—whatever he had in mind had to be a better alternative than starving to death.
“You’ll do what we say because if you don’t, then we will toss your ass out in the snow,” Michael said with absolutely no emotion in his voice.
“Oh yeah?” a man shouted back. “You and what army?”
“I’m so glad you asked.” Michael drew his shotgun and jacked a round into the chamber.
As if on cue—and Chad would believe for the rest of his life that it was, in fact a pre-arranged cue—ten men stepped out of the doorways on all sides of the room and brought rif
les to their shoulders.
***
“So what was he like…that man of yours?” Gemma asked as she shook the last bit from the can of beans they’d had warming on the fire.
The two of them had been in this lecture hall for two days while it rained ice cubes. At least that is what it felt like if you went out in it. It was so cold, and the wind blowing so hard, that if you were out in it for even a moment, your entire face went numb.
“Daft,” Vix shrugged, “like any bloke.” Her eyes clouded over as a million memories flooded her mind. Why, she thought, do you suddenly remember every good thing a person has done after they’re gone.
“He seemed like a nice fella,” Gemma scooped the last spoonful in her mouth and washed it down with a sip of water from her canteen. “Wasn’t he always going out every single time we were needing supplies?”
“That was his way. Never one to sit when things needed doing.”
“Handy ‘round the house then?”
“Couldn’t change a light bulb without breakin’ something,” Vix snorted.
The two shared a laugh and then lapsed into several minutes of uncomfortable silence. Growing restless, Vix got up and went to the door. She listened for a moment before opening it and stepping out into the hall. At the end of the corridor was a door leading outside. A soft glow shone through the window.
The sun! she thought.
Still, it wouldn’t do to get all excited without making sure. Besides, they’d been in that gloomy lecture hall with nothing but a small fire that barely chased away enough of the gloom to see the person sitting across from you.
Drawing her blade, Vix stayed close to the left wall. She didn’t know why, but she just felt more comfortable with something at her back as she moved along.
Reaching the door, she had to squint and shade her eyes to actually have a look. The sun was peeking through several breaks in the clouds. It was also obvious that she wasn’t the only person…or thing…enjoying the break. Several shadowy figures could be seen moving about. Of course they could have just as well been moving about before, but when she and Gemma had been running for cover, they hadn’t really taken much time to look around.
She cracked the door to let in a little draft of the cold, clean air. A hand grabbed her shoulder and Vix spun, bringing the sword across to hopefully decapitate whatever it was that had her in its grip.
“Easy, it’s just me!” a voice squeaked.
Vix looked down to where Gemma was sprawled on her butt after diving away from nearly having her head chopped off. She felt anger boiling inside her. That was twice, she thought.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Vix snapped.
“I didn’t want to yell up the hall and bring a bunch of them things after us,” Gemma said with a sniff.
“You still need to let me know if you are coming up behind me. It’s a wonder I didn’t slice you open.”
“Actually…” Gemma let the word die as she held up one hand where a razor-thin slice across the palm wept tears of blood.
“Damn you, child,” Vix hissed.
“I’m not a child!” Gemma stood up, actually stamping one foot as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Really?” Vix raised an eyebrow after a glance down at the offending foot. She huffed and turned back to look outside.
“So, are we going to the hardware store now?” Gemma asked as she moved up beside Vix and looked outside.
“Nope?”
“But the weather—”
“I didn’t say we weren’t leaving,” Vix cut the girl off. “I just said we weren’t going to the hardware store.”
Vix opened the door and took a deep breath. The air was cold, but it smelled wonderful and seemed to fill every bit of her lungs. A few zombies were close enough to take notice and began shambling her way. She didn’t wait and went to meet them. With a few quick flashes, the ground was littered with five corpses that would walk no more.
Looking skyward to get her bearings, Vix turned east. She stared off in the distance at nothing for a few minutes while her mind considered all the possibilities.
“But I thought we were going to fortify our location and—” Gemma spoke in a voice just above a whisper. She couldn’t keep her eyes from darting every direction. It seemed that wherever she looked, she saw more of those things. And it seemed that some of them saw her, too!
“I am not going to be nursemaid or mother for a bunch of ignorant buggers who probably won’t survive to see the coming of spring.” Vix started across the open field, her footsteps making squishy sounds in the saturated ground.
“So where are you going?” Gemma asked scurrying to catch up and match strides with the woman.
“London.”
***
“So all of our people are going to be sent out on patrols?” Selina handed Jody a steaming mug.
“Yep,” Jody nodded and sipped at the hot water. In his mind he imagined it to be a latte from his favorite barista, this little Vietnamese lady who’d run the stand just outside the base in Little Rock.
“But are they ready for that sort of thing?”
“Not at all,” Jody said after a noisy sip that was more steam than liquid. “But that is the point. Casualties won’t matter to the captain as long as they aren’t his men. He and Slider have this whole thing figured out as far as logistics and what they consider optimal loss.”
“What the hell is optimal loss?”
“It is a number of people that they hope to lose in the next few weeks so that our supply issue improves.” Jody leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. He was absolutely exhausted.
“You look like warmed over garbage…and don’t smell much better,” Selina said with more concern that disgust.
“They had me in last night for progress reports,” Jody said with a sigh. “I am supposed to select ten percent of the ‘non-viable’ female population.”
“What for?”
“They didn’t say, but I got the feeling that it helps with their optimal loss numbers.”
“But didn’t you say that we were leverage to keep the others in line?”
“Yep, but as the casualties tally up, certain individuals no longer need to be pacified with your safety.”
“So what is going to happen?”
“I think the chosen few that I gave them last night will be sent to a greenhouse complex about ten miles south of here. They will be given instruction and limited supplies and left to fend for themselves.”
“So what if they take off?” Selina opened up the two MREs that Jody had brought. She had insisted on serving everything up on actual plates. Jody couldn’t recall the last time he’d used anything besides foil packs and tin trays.
“Then the losses make up part of their optimal target. And if they stay and accomplish the task, then there will be a chance at a better food supply…next year.”
“That captain is a real bastard.” Selina set the plate in Jody’s lap and took a spot on the couch across from him.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Jody said before shoveling a mouthful of what was supposed to be roast beef in his mouth.
The long wail of the hand-cranked siren broke the silence that had settled as the two ate. Seconds later, the front door burst open. Danny stumbled in and then bent over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
“Herd!” was the only thing he managed to get out.
Jody jumped to his feet, his plate of half-eaten dinner falling to the floor with a splat. He moved past Danny and stepped out onto the porch. Selina’s house was on the west end of town on a small rise. He had risked a lot sneaking her out of the gym, but he had grown very attached to the tall, strong woman. Together, they had convinced those remaining in the gym that it would be in their best interest to remain quiet about the arrangement if they wanted any chance at survival. He’d had less trouble convincing the captain to approve his requisition to confiscate a local residence in order to have s
omeplace to base his own assigned operation from. Actually, the captain seemed enthusiastic at the prospect that Jody was beginning to fall in line with the program.
From the porch, he could see down the long, grassy slope and past the fields beyond for hundreds of yards. Sure enough, a long line of undead stretched out north and south. He guessed the herd to be at least a half mile wide. As for how long…that was anybody’s guess as is vanished from sight, blocked by a dense woods and a higher bluff. In effect, the undead hoard was wandering down into a valley.
A quick look revealed something to Jody that he wasn’t sure everybody else down in the central base—as well as Bald Knob proper—might be aware of. The valley ran in a bit of a crescent around the region. It would be no small stretch for the herd to eventually surround the entire area if there was sufficient numbers. And from what he was seeing, it looked very likely that there would be more than enough.
“Danny, where’s your pack?” Jody asked over his shoulder.
“Back in my tent,” Danny gasped, almost able to get a full breath finally.
“And what weapons are you carrying?”
“Just my spike and my three-foot brush clearer.”
The ‘spike’ that Danny referred to was a weapon of his own creation. He’d bored a series of three holes in an aluminum bat, and then welded stainless steel tent pegs into place. Jody thought it was an awkward weapon, but Danny loved it when he could pipe up in his baseball announcer’s voice. “And now, stepping into the box for the Red Sox, Danny O’Leary!” Then he would make what he thought was a good impression of a stadium crowd going wild, but to Jody, sounded more like bad static on a cheap AM radio.
“Selina, do you have a bug-out bag here?” Jody brought his field glasses up and scanned the area.
“Umm…”
“Get it,” Jody barked. He didn’t have time for her to decide if she could trust him or if this was part of some elaborate trick.
“What’s the deal, Sarge?” Danny asked. “How bad is it?”
