by Rachel Aukes
“We’re happy to be of service,” Tyler replied. “Nowadays, we have to look out for one another. After all, there aren’t enough of us left. So, where are you folks from?”
“Marshall,” Manny replied.
“Marshall, Minnesota? You mean the group holed up at SMSU?” Tyler asked. “What are you doing this far south?”
My brows furrowed. Marshall, with all its radio and telecom equipment, had been one of the first to develop an entire network of communities, with Camp Fox being one of its weekly contacts.
Manny cocked his head. “You haven’t heard? Marshall was overtaken. When the herds hit the university, we couldn’t get back to the student center where everyone else was. We were out on a supply run, and the herds cut us off. Anyone else who couldn’t get back to the student center scattered to the four winds. So we radioed the center and took off to scout somewhere safe from the zeds. We’ll go back to pick up everyone as soon as we find somewhere safe in case the zeds pass through again. Before we lost contact with them, they’d said several herds were still there. They don’t have much food in the student center, enough for a few weeks, maybe.”
I gulped in shock. Marshall was a large settlement. With survivors from the Twin Cities, they’d had a couple thousand survivors and had set up walls around the small university. No herd should’ve gotten close.
“I don’t get it,” Tyler said. “What kind of herd could get past Marshall’s troops?”
“Not just any herd. Many huge herds all moving together.” Manny waved his hand. “One was at least a hundred thousand strong.”
A hundred thousand zeds. I shivered. A herd of forty nearly got the best of us today. The last thing I could fathom was an endless herd heading straight toward us.
Manny continued. “They’re slow, but they make a wide path, and they trample everything. The bastards are relentless. They only stop to feed. As soon as we’d get in front of one herd, we’d run into another. They got my Marcia when we first tried to leave the house we’d spent the night in. I tried to get to her, but…well, she’s with them in hell now.” He rubbed a hand through his greasy hair. “We’d finally put a couple hundred miles between us and them. We stopped at Freeley when the sun set. We were planning to come here first thing in the morning, but when we’d awoke, a herd had found us. We tried to get out, but we lost several good people. We’d been holed up in that house for damn near a week, losing time that we don’t have.”
“You think these herds are headed this way?” I asked the instant before I knew Tyler would voice the same question.
Manny nodded with a pained expression. “They’re headed this way, that’s guaranteed. We figure they’re migrating. Near as I can tell, zeds from as far north as Canada are picking up small herds as they move south, until their numbers become like locusts.”
Tyler pursed his lips before letting out a sigh. “Well, shit. I definitely want to learn more about this zed problem, but your folks need food and rest. We can talk more over dinner. Tonight, Vicki is making a rare treat, pumpkin for dessert. You and your people are welcome to stay as long as you need.” He pointed down the road to the south. “I have a farmhouse set up about a mile from here for you to stay in tonight. As long as you play fair, you’ll see no aggression from Camp Fox. If you want to make your stay more permanent and live within the park, we’ll have to talk. There are conditions all residents must agree to.” He motioned to Griz and Tack in the Humvee closest to the gate. “My men will take your people into the park for dinner and then to the farmhouse so you can clean up and rest. Sound good?”
The other man nodded. “I owe you my life and my thanks. Your offer is more than fair.” Then he held out his hand.
This time, Tyler shook it.
A blond guy approached Manny. I could see the white tip of a thick scar peeking out from the V-neck of his shirt. He reached behind him and I readied my spear. Instead of pulling out a weapon, he held up a picture of a family. I assumed he was the man in the photo, though the beard and a hundred pounds less fat made it tough to tell. In the picture, a middle-aged man posed with a kindly looking woman and a teenaged girl. All three looked happy. Obviously, it had been taken before anyone had heard of zeds.
He shoved the picture in my face. “Please, you have to help me. My wife and daughter are still in Marshall. If you can give me some supplies, I can go back for them while the others go ahead and find somewhere safe.”
“Bill, we’ve talked about this already,” Manny said with a sigh.
“I know, but I can’t leave them alone for much longer. I need to get back to them,” Bill replied before looking again at me. “Please. It’s my family.”
My lips tightened. He was clearly trying to get me on his side, likely because I was a woman. He was playing to the wrong person. Of the pair in front of him, Tyler had the softer heart. He was generous, always ready to help someone in need. I was selfish. Everything I did was to protect Jase, Clutch, and me. With every stranger we helped, we put ourselves at risk. Our days were already full from sunrise to sunset with keeping Camp Fox clear of zeds and searching houses and gardens for food. The idea of giving up even one day to help someone I didn’t know or trust brought on an instant tension headache.
“We’ll consider your case later,” Tyler said, pressing Bill’s hand down. “You need food and a good night’s rest.”
The man frowned and fervently shook his head. “No. This can’t wait. The herds will hit you here, just like they did in Marshall. Then there will be nothing left. I have to get my family and head south, find an island or somewhere the herds can’t get to us. If we stay here, we’ll die. Just like you’re all going to die.”
Chapter IV
Tyler let Bill ride back to the park square with us so no one else had to listen to his endless pleading. I couldn’t imagine how he must’ve driven the other survivors crazy while they’d been cooped up in that house. Manny rode along, seemingly oblivious to his friend’s chatter.
As we headed back to the park square in the Humvee, Bill detailed his plans about getting back to Marshall to find his family. Though, for pointing out all the obvious details, like stopping by farmhouses to look for food, his plan was really simple: drive back to Marshall while watching out for the herds.
Even though his constant talking grated on my nerves, I could relate to how he felt. If I’d been separated from Clutch or Jase, nothing short of death would’ve stopped me from finding them. However, as much as I understood Bill, I was also disgusted with him. He was too afraid to head after them on his own. It was bad enough he’d abandoned them in the first place.
“We’re here,” Tyler said a few exhausting minutes later, as he pulled the Humvee into the small parking lot for the park office, where all Camp Fox business took place, including three group meals per day. “Welcome to the Fox Park square. It serves as our command center, chow hall, and the place for just about any other group activity.”
“The university’s student center was our town square,” Manny said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
Bill had quieted when we arrived, likely from the smells of dinner overtaking his senses. Starving, I headed straight for the door, and the three men were right there with me. A couple of the park’s residents walked out the door as we approached. Tyler held the door open, and I politely followed the two newcomers inside. Even though Bill was a chatterbox, both he and Manny seemed like decent, albeit smelly, folk. Regardless, it would take longer before I trusted them enough to welcome them into the fold of Camp Fox.
Inside, I found Kurt already hitting on one of the women who’d arrived today. It was par for the course for the Guardsman who treated every day like a frat party rather than the end of the civilized world.
Tyler grabbed a tray, stepped into the cafeteria-style line, and nudged Kurt. “I need you to check on the north gates.”
“I’m sure they’re fine,” he replied all too quickly before smiling again at the young woman basking in his attention.
Tyler’s jaw tightened. “I wasn’t asking.”
Kurt’s smile fell, and he stood straighter. “Yes, sir.”
On his way out, he winked at the woman, and her flirtatious smile left no doubt as to whose bed she’d be sleeping in tonight. That was Kurt. He hit on every woman. Hell, he hit on me but mostly only when Jase was around, likely because it pissed Jase off. He obviously liked Jase even though he seemed to be constantly picking on him, so I figured it was some kind of friendship hazing ritual. Clutch, on the other hand, was a completely different story. Kurt didn’t risk hitting on me when Clutch was around. Maybe because Kurt looked to him as Sarge. More likely it was because that any sense of humor Clutch had was lost in the stampede that crippled him.
The smell of beef stew made my mouth water and drew my attention to the small buffet line. Made with wild greens, berries, and some other local plants that I hadn’t yet figured out, it was my favorite meal. As soon as Tyler got a bowl, Nate set a generously sized bowl of stew on my tray. Nate, like everyone else here, performed multiple duties. Like Kurt, he was also a Guardsman and a scout under Tyler, but he was also a damn good cook. Between Vicki and him, they planned all our meals.
It was easy to see that Nate thoroughly sampled each meal. He was one of the few scouts whose clothes fit tighter since the outbreak. After giving Nate a grin, I moved on and grabbed a handful of nuts and two crumbly chunks of cornbread, our daily staple. One thing the Midwest had plenty of was corn, but there was one big problem. Farmers planted seed corn, with only small pockets of sweet corn scattered across the area. Seed corn was made for cattle feed or corn syrup. Hard and bland, it generally wasn’t exactly consumable without being ground down into cornmeal. We’d grown accustomed to the simple taste. Hell, I even looked forward to Nate’s corn hash every third morning.
That was the way things were around here. Everything had become a routine. Hard-boiled eggs or hash for breakfast, meat as dinner’s main course every other day, and only vegetables and grains on the alternate days. Sugar and salt were restricted for medical use only. After a while, a person’s palate became accustomed to a blander fare, finding new flavors in things like dandelion tea and root soup. But that wasn’t always the case. Some things were just simply flavorless, or worse, tasted like weeds.
Tyler led us back outside to a picnic table. Manny and Bill followed us rather than sitting with their own people.
“Real beef?” Manny asked, swirling a spoon in his stew, while Bill slurped directly from his bowl, completely oblivious to us.
“It’s nothing fancy,” Tyler replied after taking a bite. “But it fills the stomach.”
Manny chuckled. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t remember the last time I had meat that didn’t come out of a can.” He took another bite and frowned. “I can’t make out the seasoning.”
“It’s marjoram,” I said. “Deb found a whole bunch of it growing wild around the park. We ran out of spices a month ago and have been trying out what grows naturally. We’re still getting used to the new flavors ourselves.”
“We’ve also been collecting all the remaining livestock in the area,” Tyler said. “Mostly hogs, but a few cattle and some chickens. There aren’t many left, but enough to repopulate into something that can support us.”
“Impressive,” Manny said. “We’ve brought some livestock into Marshall, but nowhere near enough to support the numbers we need to support. You’ve got everything you need right here.”
“Not yet, but being smaller helps,” I said. “Right now, we’re working on harvesting and canning fruit. There are quite a few apple trees, but other than berries, we don’t have much variety. Not having enough vitamin C to last the winter is one of our greatest nutritional worries right now. Scurvy is a very real risk we will face unless we can get into town for food or vitamins.”
Manny tilted his head. “Well, you’re a step ahead of us. For winter, we planted some crops in the greenhouse, but we’d planned on living off anything we could find in houses. The pickings have grown pretty slim the past few weeks. We’ve gotten desperate enough to start picking around the edges of the Twin Cities. We’ve been saving seeds. Come spring, we’re planting crops anywhere there’s grass at the university. That is, if the herds haven’t busted things up too bad.”
“I’m sure you can rebuild,” Tyler said with his famous, kind smile. “Were you in contact with any other survivors from Marshall?”
Manny frowned, and then shrugged. “We kept in touch for the first day before we lost contact. There were pockets heading in every direction. Some headed north, thinking the worst of the zeds were to the south. Some headed east or west, since the herds were moving south. I decided to take my folks south to get as far ahead of the herds while we still could, but as soon as we pulled away from one herd, we ran smack into another. All I know is that once we find a temporary place to hide until the herds migrate, we’ll head back to Marshall for the rest of our people and rebuild at the school, if it’s still possible.”
“It’s possible,” Bill said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “The other zeds will join up with the herds, so they’ll all be gone. We can focus on rebuilding, finally, instead of just watching and defending ourselves against the infected every day.”
“You really think the herds are migrating for the winter?” I asked, sure that the doubt bled through my words.
“After seeing it with my own eyes, I’m convinced of it,” Manny said before taking another bite.
“I think it’s a good idea to check out those herds for ourselves. What do you think?” Tyler asked me. “Can you make the flight without a fuel stop?”
I shrugged. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“You’re a pilot?” Manny asked.
I gave a quick nod. “If the herds are getting that big, they’d be easy enough to spot from a distance. I wouldn’t even have to fly low. Plus, I could make a wide arc back to see if there are any other groups headed our way. It’ll give us some idea where the herds are and where they’re headed.”
Bill’s eyes widened. “You have to take me with you.”
I held up my hands. “Whoa. I’m scouting the herds. That’s all. I’m not touching down anywhere.”
“If you could at least fly over Marshall, we can at least see if the herd did much damage,” Bill pleaded.
I sighed before turning back to Tyler. “If the flight goes without any hiccups, I suppose I could check out Marshall the same way I did Mason City.”
Tyler thought for a moment, and then nodded. “If the weather changes or you get any kind of bad feeling in your gut, turn back. This run should be as straightforward as they come. I also want Clutch with you to check out the herds. We’ll wait until he’s feeling better if we have to, but I need his experience on this one.”
“So, you aren’t going to check on Marshall?” Bill asked, each word climbing in pitch.
“I didn’t say that,” I said. “If everything goes as planned, I’ll fly over it. If the heavens align, I’ll consider landing. But if it is in any way unsafe to land, all I can do is drop a bag with any messages you and your friends want to leave.”
Using bag drops had been Tyler’s idea to improve morale. The first bag I’d dropped had worked like a charm at Mason City. It looked like no survivors had made it in the ravaged area, but that didn’t matter. Even if no one came to claim the bag, Tyler was right. The action had brought hope to the families back at the park.
Manny smiled and patted Bill’s shoulder. “That’s a grand plan. If you have some paper and pens around here, I’ll bring notes from my people in the morning. We’d done similar things over the Twin Cities when we still had a pilot with us. Though, I’m guessing Bill would be more than happy to ride along if you have room for an extra passenger.”
Tyler looked to me to answer. I didn’t like taking people I didn’t know on a flight, especially one as desperate as Bill. Too many things could happen in the air that could turn everything to shit. I’d learn
ed that lesson by watching my dad. He’d been a doctor and an avid volunteer in the Doctors Without Borders program. He had learned to fly to get into some of the world’s most inhospitable places. He’d taken me with him one summer, where I became hooked on flying but also learned first-hand how easily a single passenger with a panic attack could nearly crash a plane. Now, I never flew anywhere without having someone I trusted on board to handle any passenger.
“Okay,” I said and Bill’s face lit up. “You can ride in back only if we have an extra seat. Jase is my co-pilot and rides shotgun. We’ll try for tomorrow morning. If Clutch isn’t up for it or the weather doesn’t look perfect, we’ll try again for the next day. If any other Fox scout wants to ride along, you lose your seat.” I pointed a finger at him. “I’m in charge. You do everything I say. No questions asked. No arguing. I will not risk my plane or my life because you decide to do something stupid. Got it?”
Bill gave a fervent nod, smiling widely. “Yes, yes. I’ll do whatever you ask.” He cupped my hands. “This means so much. Thank you, I mean it.”
I gave a weak smile. “Listen. There are no guarantees on this trip. Chances are, even if we make it to Marshall without having to turn around, there won’t be any safe landing strips, so we’ll only manage to make a bag drop. You’re signing up for what will likely be a dull three- or four-hour flight.”
“I understand,” Bill replied, his eyebrows high. “We had a road cleared at the university for our pilot to land. You can land there.”
“I’m not making any promises,” I cautioned.
“Even if you can’t land, I can at least get a note to my family,” Bill quickly replied. “They’ll know I’m safe and on my way back to them. They’ve got to be so worried right now.” Bill reached into his pocket, grabbed a pen and notepad, and started drawing something.
