by Brown, TW
“I want you to promise that, if we are ever fighting deaders and I tell you to run, that you will do what I say.”
“We promise.”
***
Vix shimmied up to the first cross beam and then began the arduous climb up the power line tower. She was still climbing as the first crease of light began to show on the horizon to the east. From the looks of things, the clouds were breaking up and the day might actually yield some sunshine.
When she finally reached a spot where she felt she could see just about any place that their attackers might have come from, Vix halted. She had been keeping her eyes on every single hand hold as she climbed. It would be just her luck that she would grab some rusted piece of metal and fall to her doom; or worse, become seriously injured and left to die a slow and miserable death.
“You really need to find a rosier outlook on life, missy,” she muttered to herself as she began to scan the landscape.
She discovered not one, but a pair of places, where the gray tendrils of smoke wafted up indicating that some sort of fire was burning. After making a point to locate a few solid landmarks that would lead her in and help to find both locations, Vix climbed back down. Despite her earlier self-talk about becoming a bit more optimistic, she still kept her eyes on what she was doing all the way to the ground.
“Well?” Chaaya asked, her voice habitually returning to that whisper a person used when they were scared of being discovered.
“Two possibilities,” Vix announced.
She described everything in detail just in case they were separated for any unforeseen reason. They could either head west towards High Halstow, or they could turn east. Since they knew with a fair amount of certainty what they would find heading west, they opted for the signs of life to the east.
It had looked much closer from up high. But once you added in hiking up and down every hill and dale, along with maintaining a high degree of caution in order to minimize their chances of being discovered if anybody might be out looking, it took them most of the morning to finally reach a spot where the smells of burning wood and roasting meat carried on the breeze.
“Okay, here is how we do this.” Vix turned to Chaaya, bringing their journey to a momentary halt. “You are going to stay out of sight and keep your eyes and ears open. I’m going in alone.”
“But that never works out well,” Chaaya insisted.
“You’re right, but if we both go in, then there will be nobody to go back home and warn the others that there are some very hostile people out here. Also, you will need to tell them everything that Marjorie told us before this fuck-all of a mission began.”
“Fuck-all?” Chaaya stifled a snort of laughter.
“You have a better term?”
The woman seemed to consider things for a moment. Vix had to admit, if she were the sort to find women attractive, Chaaya would be right up in her top ten. Lips pursed and brow furrowed as she thought, the woman was an absolute beauty.
“I suppose not.”
“Good,” Vix said with a sigh as she gave her machete a pat. “And now I guess there is nothing left to do but the doing.”
“Are you seriously attempting to try out a new catch phrase or something? Because you are completely awful at it if I may be permitted to say.”
After making a very deliberate and uncouth hand gesture and sticking out her tongue, Vix spun on her heel and started up the road. She covered less than a half of a mile—struggling mightily not to look over her shoulder just in case she was being watched—when a voice from her left called out, “Stop where you are.”
Vix did as she was asked. As an added attempt to appear unthreatening, she put her hands in the air and then laced her fingers together and put them behind her head. A moment later, she heard somebody emerge from the heavy, dense grass to her left and right.
“Let’s get down on our knees, shall we?” a voice asked with far too much joviality.
“Great, another bloody Irishman,” Vix snorted just loud enough to be heard.
“I think we can call the entire Catholics versus Protestants thing behind us now, don’t you, love?”
A man stepped in front of Vix and she had to restrain her desire to actually laugh out loud. If she was being generous, she would guess the man to be perhaps a hand or so higher than a meter. His red hair was curly and jutting from under a small cap. He wore a waist coat that was belted and held secure with a large brass buckle. As far as she was concerned, all he lacked was a little pipe and some clogs.
“Name’s Paddy.” The tiny man made a grand bow.
“Of course it is,” Vix said with a straight face that was threatening to crumble into hysterics.
“And this is my friend, Seamus O’ Hara.”
The laugh that started to escape died on Vix’s lips as a mountain of a man that was as large as this Paddy was small stepped in front of her. He had the same hair, but his face was a mess of scars and his grinning mouth showed three remaining teeth at best. Dangling from the behemoth’s belt were three zombie heads; each one still had eyes darting back and forth. Their mouths were sewn shut with what looked like a piece of leather cord.
“So, what brings a flower like yourself all the way out here by your lonesome?” Paddy asked.
Vix considered her options. It took her a moment, but she decided to take an approach that most would probably shun out of hand in a situation like this: Vix told the truth.
***
Chad felt his heart trying to escape his chest. The last time he’d been so overwhelmed with real fear had been months ago when he’d returned to find Ronni and Caroline to let them know that the Green Springs community might actually have real potential as a place for them to live.
It was probably just a simple case of seeing a possible dream-come-true dangled before him and basically being prepared for something of greater or equal negative value having to take place. The women had been just on the other side of the ridge and were actually sitting on a massive boulder, having a heart-to-heart talk about how Ronni needed to try and understand that her dad would do anything to keep her safe and that the people they’d left behind seemed to harbor a real hatred for the immune.
Green Springs had lived up to his hopes and brought out a deep happiness in his daughter that Chad had not seen in a long time. They had been accepted into the community with open arms. Chad had quickly earned his place as a member of the hunting detail. That had been his first step in earning a chance to join security.
It was a measured process, and before long, Chad had been accepted by a team that handled mobile patrols. He was still not yet able to apply for mounted patrols, but he found that he enjoyed being out on foot every other day.
At least that had been the case until today. He’d left for his sector just before sunrise after kissing his daughter on the forehead as she sat bent over her manual that she needed to complete to become a teacher in the grade school classes. Caroline was already at the bakery where she would no doubt be treating the house to some special pastry; one of her favorite perks of the job.
It was just an hour or so into his patrol. He’d been tasked to the Barron Creek area on the west side of what the map said was Old Siskiyou Highway. It was little more than a two-lane road that was more weeds and grass coming up through the cracks than anything else.
He was following one of the many game trails when he heard something. He knew the sound of a crier when he heard it. After so many years, it had become much easier to tell the difference between a real crying baby and the zombie sound. They were remarkably similar, but a crier could only make short bursts of the noise. If you waited, they would fade and then follow up with a moan, or even silence. Anybody who had any time with a real crying baby could tell you that they seldom quieted that quickly.
This one had only lasted a few seconds, and Chad went to investigate. If it were one or just a few, he was given a green light to take them down. Large groups numbering over twenty were required to be reported if t
hey were heading in the general direction of Green Springs, otherwise, it was best to simply let them go on their way.
This group numbered in the hundreds. Not the largest he’d seen, but worthy of letting the people back at Green Springs know. Because there were so many, and they were on a direct track towards the walls, he was authorized to fire his flare gun. That would bring the mounted patrol in to handle things.
Since he wanted to join this group, Chad decided to stay close. There was a rocky outcropping over the creek that he could climb up on that would allow him a pretty good view of the area. He had just reached it when he spied the ten person horse patrol approaching from the south. They were coming up a shallow ravine and would hit this herd from almost directly behind the main body.
The riders apparently spotted the trailing elements and went into a wide formation; this put three riders up on each side of the gulley and four riding abreast down the middle. Chad was so intent on trying to watch the big picture that it took him a few seconds before he realized that one of the riders’ horses had started to veer away from the group. It was one of the three riding along the right side of the gulley as he faced them.
When the rider slid sideways and then fell from the back of the horse, disappearing in the grass that was tall enough to brush the bellies of the horses, that was when Chad realized that there was a problem. In a flash, everything went bad. From both sides, arrows flew and the ten riders were being taken down before any of them had a chance to draw his or her flare gun and signal that there was trouble.
Chad jumped to his feet and pulled his own. He jammed the parachute flare into the gun and aimed skyward. A sudden pain came from his leg. He looked down to see a wooden shaft jutting from his thigh.
“Ah-ah-ah,” a voice from behind him warned.
Chad spun to see three hooded figures at the base of little boulder. One of them had the drawstring of his bow pulled back, arrow aimed at him. Another was pulling another arrow from a quiver and the third had a wicked axe held across his or her chest. The metal caught the sun and gleamed brightly, sending a beam of light into Chad’s eyes.
His mind made a snap decision. Judging by how the riders had been treated, he did not expect that he would be allowed to live under any condition. These people were here with a deadly purpose. He had no idea if they were part of an invasion, or just a nasty group of raiders. He was not anxious to find out. Chad took his chances and flung himself backwards and into the creek below. As he fell, he prayed that, if he did strike one of the rocks jutting from the water, it killed him quickly.
***
Jody dropped down low in the grass. The place that Pitts called home was a farm in between the two settlements. It was actually a stopping place for some as they made their way back and forth. Pitts was no fool and recognized the need for a rest area of sorts. He had a small staff on hand who kept the farm going and manned grills and the like during the warmer months.
Jody was still blown away by this revelation. Pitts had been one of his most vocal and strongest supporters during that whole trial. He had even been the one to come over to Jody’s house one night and say that the only reasonable outcome had to be exile.
“Are you completely sure?” Jody whispered to Jan.
She nodded. “I was just as surprised when I heard where they were going to take her. I thought that fellow was on our side.”
“So did I,” Jody said, not hiding his disappointment.
“You guys want me to just stay here?” Tracy asked.
Jody turned to face the man. He did not want to hurt Tracy’s feelings, but he had already seen enough to know that the man was out of his element in a situation such as this. Tracy was not a fighter. It was not a bad thing, it was just not a good one at the moment.
“If they get out and run, you need to be here to see which way they go. If Jan and I do not make it out, you are to go back to Danny. He will know what to do.”
“I can believe that,” Jan muttered.
Without another word, Jody started for the house. There was no sign of any of the workers out doing anything in the massive garden. Jody had been out here a few days ago and arrived just after sunrise. Even at that early hour, the garden had been a beehive of activity.
“Something is wrong here.” Jody stopped.
He brought up his field glasses and scanned the house. It was actually quite modest considering. And there was an area with luxury RVs lined up for the summer staff to use as quarters. This was one of those things that had become like a rite of passage. Kids waited until they were old enough and then signed up to work out here. It was no secret that the man took excellent care of them. It had surprised Jody at first, but one night, Pitts had confided in him that he’d always wanted a family. When he made sergeant, he saw the men under his command as his children. It was nice, but had never filled the hole. Now, he had a fresh batch of faces every spring and summer.
“You mean how there is nobody working?”
Just as Jan spoke, a figure emerged from between a pair of the RVs. He was holding a long sword in one hand and a pistol-sized crossbow in the other. The light was not the greatest, and shadows played hell, but he swore he saw movement in the front window of one of the RVs.
He watched a little longer and counted five men patrolling the area of the vehicles. He also spotted one man on the second floor balcony that jutted from the right side of the house.
“We may be dealing with a seriously lopsided situation,” Jody whispered. “But I have an idea.”
He laid out his plan to Jan who nodded. After one final check of their gear, both separated and went their opposite directions. Jan was headed for the right side of the house and Jody was moving around to the rear of the RV area.
He was able to drop down into an irrigation ditch at one point and pick up his pace considerably. At last he came to the spot where he was almost dead center of the eleven RVs that were side by side. He peered up over the edge of the trench and saw one man leaning with his back up against the side of one of the vehicles. He was taking a piss!
Jody knew this was a perfect opportunity and moved to the left a little in order to be at the man’s back. He came in fast and quiet. Just as the man was stuffing himself back into his pants, Jody sprung; clamping one hand over the guy’s mouth, Jody drove his blade into the kidney. The man went stiff and then slumped to the ground.
As quick as possible, Jody rolled the man under the nearest RV and then crawled under himself. He scanned until he located the other four sets of legs. He judged where each one was and picked out the one farthest from the rest. He knew it would be tricky from here on out, and realistically, he only gave himself a fifty-fifty chance at success.
The next sentry walked past and Jody rolled out quietly from under the RV. He was just about to attack when the person suddenly spun to face him! It was a young woman, maybe early twenties at best. On sheer reflex, Jody thrust his blade forward. It plunged into the woman’s throat. She coughed and gagged on her own blood. It was not loud, but it was apparently enough. He heard somebody call out. A second later, footsteps were coming on the run.
Jody had just enough time to drop, roll, and drag the body under the RV when a set of legs came into view. He held his breath until they passed. As soon as they did, Jody looked around and then came out the other side. He was just rising to his feet when a voice made him freeze.
“Hands in the air, Mister Rafe,” a man said with unveiled menace. “Any move other than that and I plug you right here, right now.”
Jody did as he was told. He laced his fingers behind his head and waited for whoever this was to approach. For the life of him, he could not place the voice.
“On your knees, you know the drill.”
Jody did as he was told. There was a distinct jangle that he recognized as handcuffs being pulled out. He was considering the likelihood that he could drop and kick his feet out when his captor approached. He knew that he was dead either way. Why not go out fighting?
“You Jody Rafe?” another unfamiliar voice asked.
***
Entry Twenty-nine—
My back is killing me. I spent all day today helping a small settlement with the repairs on their main gate. A herd of a few thousand undead hit them and the sheer weight of them eventually folded down the wall as well as the gate itself blowing wide open.
On the plus side, they saw my girl. She was using the name “Mary” when she arrived. I guess she managed to move beyond the area where her reputation is well known. I was almost as surprised to discover that I am almost to Old Seattle. According to these people, I could reach it as early as the day after tomorrow.
That got me to wondering if perhaps Seattle might be her target. Lots of old buildings are still standing. Sure, they are not up to code any longer, but who cares about that sort of thing these days? Also, there are at least forty settlements in and around that area. The zombies that once roamed the streets have all moved on and left behind plenty of places for people to shore up and settle. The old city sat in between the Cascades and the Olympics. There is plenty of water and an abundance of islands that are supposed to be populated with fairly large communities by the modern standard.
She would have basically an endless supply of children in a place like this. It is no secret that the clans in this region are a warlike bunch. The area has established trade, but everybody seems to have taken sides in one dispute or another.
