“No, not all of them all the time, but there seems to always be someone there. I haven’t seen Paul since this morning. Others come and go, but my friends from school, Jackie and Linda, they are usually around,” her daughter replied. She was getting some of her confidence back, it must have felt better to get it off her chest, to talk about it openly.
“What do they look like?” Sam asked curiously, not being able to help herself.
Her daughter was looking south in the direction of her father as she spoke. “Mostly they’re okay, dressed like it was any normal day, just paler, grayish. Then there are times when I see how they died,” she commented, then visibly shivered. “That’s not so great, that’s how I know they’re really dead. Linda says she’s sorry she didn’t listen and something about a school bus of kids. I don’t understand half of what they say.”
“Hon, you can tell her that it’s okay, I understand,” she responded.
“She can hear you,” Michelle returned.
Again, she turned, half expecting to see the two women standing there just out of reach. “Why are they still here? Why haven’t they moved on?”
“They don’t know,” she nearly whispered. “They say it’s crowded over there and that they aren’t the only ones. Maybe heaven’s out of room.”
She felt a chill at the thought. “That’s not very comforting.” They were nearing the stables now and she was opening the gate to let her daughter in when she noticed Michelle hanging back as Samantha continued on through. “Come on.”
“Not much in the mood for riding, Mom,” her tired daughter returned.
“Trust me okay?” she asked, coaxing her forward.
Michelle relented and she led her into the stables, making sure to latch the door behind them. She got another glare when she motioned towards the ladder leading to the upper level, but her daughter didn’t have much fight left in her.
“I’m going to groom the horses while you two talk,” Sam offered, heading towards the grooming supplies attached on the wall to the right.
“Okay,” she responded, following her daughter up the ladder. As she made the last step, she stepped onto the platform and went to the piles of hay they stored up there. “Come here,” she called, laying down on a hay pile and opening her arms to her daughter.
Michelle’s eyes were beginning to droop, the exhaustion taking over. “I don’t think I can sleep,” she attempted, but her body was saying something else entirely.
“For those of you that have passed on, I ask that you leave my daughter in peace for now, let her get some sleep, and I promise you we will try to work something out, find some way to help you,” she told the unseen spirits.
Michelle was laying down now and she folded her daughter in her arms. “They’re gone,” her daughter whispered in relief, then closed her eyes and finally fell asleep.
Chapter 21
Canteens
Todd
Three-Way, AZ
“We’ve still got plenty of gas, not to mention the reserves we’re towing,” Joseph commented from the driver seat. They had stopped at a junction that would take them west towards Safford, south towards Duncan, or east towards New Mexico. None of their options were favorable and they had to decide the best way to go forward; their best chance at success.
If they went west, they’d be heading into a large populated area which intel showed to be heavily infected. South was a mystery to them, there had been nothing Ben could find on the small town ahead and they’d have to take their chances, not to mention a longer way around since the main roads out of Duncan led right back to Safford or the interstate further south. East was an option, but not a favorable one. It would add hours to their time to go into New Mexico, only to have a similar situation with the towns to the south on their way back to I-10. They were heavily armed, they were confident that their vehicle could take one hell of a beating; but this wasn’t about force of arms, but how to get their objective done the quickest and safest way possible.
“You know as well as I do, when you see water, you refill your canteen, because you don’t know when you’ll next find a stream along your path,” he responded.
“Yes, Master Yoda,” the sniper said with a smile.
He rolled his eyes and got out of the Humvee, stretching his legs. There were two bodies waiting on them at the gas pumps and he thought he recognized at least one of them from the fight yesterday morning.
“Nick give me a hand,” he said as he bent over one of the bodies and grabbed its arms.
“What are you doing?” Sabrina asked from within the Humvee. “They’re already dead.”
He grunted in response, but his son had already grabbed the man’s ankles and together they drug the corpse free of the pumps and dumped it in the dirt thirty yards back.
“What are we doing?” Nick asked.
“Let’s get the other one,” he responded. The girl was slightly heavier, but they managed to get her lying on top of the other corpse as well. He stretched his back and found that the sweat had begun coursing down his body. The mid-day sun was beating on them and the gear was making him roast despite the cool win blowing from the east.
“Go get one of the gas cans,” he told his son and watched the boy rush off without further questions. He looked around at where he had lain the bodies and was satisfied that the dry grass was clear of the corpses. The remains of the Drive In stood as silent statues watching over him as he took the gas can from his arriving son and started to pour its contents on the dead bodies at his feet. Pouring a bit more away from the bodies, he grabbed up a clutch of dead grass, lit it, and dropped it on the fluid below. The gas caught instantly and traveled along its laden path to the bodies. The corpses went up in a burst of flame and he took a heap of dry grass and dumped it on them to keep the flames fed. His son followed suit, grasping a tumbleweed through his gloved hands as he tossed it at the leaping flames.
Nick gave him another questioning look as he looked to the rear and saw Rosilynn standing next to the Humvee watching them as well. He looked her in the eyes, seeking her approval and she only nodded slightly and smiled. Then she brought up her weapon, nodded towards the convenience store across the way, and turned away from them.
Sabrina had gotten out as well and was trying to walk next to the older woman, but he heard Rosilynn tell her to stay behind her, forcing Sabrina to cover her flank. Joseph was pumping gas and his father was standing next to the Humvee smoking a cigarette.
“Refill the can,” he told Nick, handing him the empty container. The bodies were nearly burned up now, their fuel keeping the blaze going and the rancid smell stinging his nose so much he had to turn away at last. His son was starting to do as he was asked when he called out to stop him. “Nick, just because the world is indecent doesn’t mean we have to be. Remember that.”
He took one last glance at the blazing bodies. It was more than the explanation that he gave his teenage son that drove him to do it. Unless he misjudged, these were Robert’s men and they had suffered for the loss of yesterday’s battle. He felt partially responsible for their deaths, even though he knew he would have killed them himself if he had been given the chance. Still, they were people, they had mothers, family, and no matter what drove them to madness they had once been Human. There were billions dying out there and he saw the pyre as a symbolic gesture to the cleansing that was now his duty to perform. He wouldn’t be able to do it alone, but the act of trying would be enough to clear his aching conscience.
What evil had they loosed upon the world that dreadful night so long ago? What part had he played in the ensuing madness?
Rosilynn and Sabrina had disappeared into the convenience store and a couple of following gunshots told him what they’d found inside. He trusted that if she needed assistance, she would call for it.
He looked to Joseph, but the man only shook his head and smiled. “Woman knows how to handle her gun.”
“I wonder who she learned that from. Any thoughts to what we d
o next?” he asked, looking along each of the roads, trying to decide their fate. They were at a crossroads that led to multiple possibilities, which one would lead to a successful outcome?
“I’d go west, but that’s me just wanting to cut to the chase and face whatever comes,” Joseph responded. “I don’t vote east, there’s a whole lot of nothing and we still end up going the same direction anyways. But hey, this is your area, not mine. I’m certainly not in Arkansas anymore. Hell, I’ve got some kind of ball of needles attached to my shoe and no matter how much I kick at it, I can’t seem to get the bugger off. So, honestly, you’re the best one to judge.”
He nodded, as if expecting the response. “We should go south then, split it down the middle,” he replied. “Duncan’s pretty small considering and back roads are bound to be less overrun by now.”
“Unless they’ve followed their food supply out of the cities,” the sniper countered.
Rosilynn was exiting the convenience store with bags clutched in one hand, her weapon ready in the other. Her sword shifted as she walked, the sheath bouncing off her knees as she came their way. Sabrina followed closely behind and it was still odd to see the younger girl with such short hair. Rosilynn had refused to cut hers, instead she had it tied up and bundled it under the helmet she wore. He could just bet that Sabrina was fuming at not being given that choice.
His son rushed forward to give them a hand and he lit a cigarette as the three of them closed the distance.
“Living or dead?” he asked Rosilynn as she strode into view.
She shook her head at him. “Looked like the owner and a clerk, possibly family, couldn’t tell by the shape they were in. And I’ve got to tell you, they don’t look like anything I’ve seen in the movies. We really need to rethink what we’ve been taught. There’s obvious signs of decay, exasperated by the humidity in this area, and with my knowledge of anatomy, I’d say they’d be immobile and rotting within the week. It flies in the face of everything we’ve ever been told.”
Sabrina brushed past him and started throwing her own bags into the back of the Humvee. “I’m fine thanks,” she sneered as she climbed in after them.
“I never had any doubt,” he laughed after her. “I’ve often wondered about that too,” he said, looking at the corner store but taking a step closer to Rosilynn. “You’d expect the climate to matter, the bodies to wither, but even after years of a zombie outbreak, the corpses remain the same. Maybe this virus is drastically different, or maybe this is just how it’s supposed to be. I don’t know. That’s your field of expertise, I just kill shit.”
She smiled briefly as she shook her head. “You know you do more than that. I don’t know either. Maybe if we had one to examine—but there’s no way I’m going to attempt that. And no, neither are you,” she interrupted his next words, then looked at the smoldering fire nearby. “You know you can’t burn every body we find, don’t you?” He looked into her eyes and found a deeper understanding of his purpose than he had let on. “We all feel responsible for what’s going on, but you have to let it go. It doesn’t matter how we got here, just how we live now.”
He smiled weakly. “I know.” They held that gaze for a moment longer, then she smiled, patted him on the shoulder and began to climb back inside with the others. Joseph was already in the driver’s seat and waiting impatiently for him.
He took one last look north and to his new home. Somewhere back there was his wife and other children, how were they fairing since his departure? Had Ben already begun his task? Had they been discovered? He suddenly remembered the cell in his shorts pocket and decided he didn’t have to guess after all. He wouldn’t be able to ask anything direct without the chances of being overheard, but he could at least verify they were ok.
“Let’s head south,” he told Joseph, who gritted his teeth but nodded. The man really wanted to go through Safford, meet things head on. He had an uneasy feeling about it though, like something ugly was going on over there, and he didn’t want to go anywhere near that unless he absolutely had to. He slammed the door and dialed his wife’s number, relief filling him as it begun to ring.
Chapter 22
Oxygen Deprived
Ben
Compound 2
“Okay, I’ve got the file and it’s ready to be uploaded. Has everyone made the changes they wanted to make?” he asked them, hoping that the message had gotten through.
The others nodded and he thought he saw something in Jenn’s eyes that gave him hope. After Casey had finished with his podcast, that computer had been powered down, as were the others in the room. There really was only one thing left to do. He hit the upload button and watched the loading screen. When it reached one hundred percent, he reached forward with his boot to hit the button on the power strip that his computer was plugged into.
“I wouldn’t do that,” a voice echoed from the speaker on the wall; Sean’s voice taunting him. Well, shit, he knew after all. His foot did not stop its movement and alarms began to go off around the compound, the door swung shut and locked itself. With the tip of his toe, he pressed the switch and the computer suddenly went dark.
Casey had gone upstairs; he hoped he had gotten clear before the doors had shut. He looked around the darkened room at the door, some vain hope that it would open when the computer system went down had sparkled, but was now dying in his chest. The vents had stopped pumping air, but at least they weren’t sucking it back out either.
That would give him some time.
When the blast doors came down, a similar act would close off the vents as well, to keep anything unwanted from using the ducts as passage into the rooms from above. Unfortunately, those same security precautions also cut off any chance of air getting in as well. What he had to breathe was what had been in the room before the alarms, which meant he’d better get moving if he was going to get them open in time.
He hit the power button on the strip and watched as his computer began to reboot. He was sure to hit the button that would take him to the Linux system instead of loading Windows and gained access to the compound’s servers. He began deleting the partitions he had set up; effectively undoing everything he had spent the last three years setting up.
He was nervous and breathing rapidly. He had to force himself to slow his breath or else he’d run out of oxygen before he was done.
When he finished wiping the information, he loaded the backup discs and began to pray. He had made as many updates as he could to his system files before doing this, but there was going to be a lot he’d have to redo. Still, Todd had been right, better to have to redo it all then live with the constant threat of death. He thought the air was becoming a bit thin, but assumed it was just his mind anticipating and hastening his fear. He should have hours of breathable air, he couldn’t have gone through it that fast.
“I hope this works,” he muttered, as he continued to work furiously. Had the systems activated at the other compounds? Were Jenn, Brian, and Kate also working to beat the clock? He hoped that they had acted faster than he did, he should have just dropped and punched it with his hand, sneaking may have cost him the few seconds he would have needed to avoid the lockdown.
He had one server done, only eight to go.
Chapter 23
Tainted Meat
Robert
Safford, AZ
He woke up in a different room then the one he’d been in before. In fact, judging by the cases of food stored nearby and the metal walls, he was guessing they had put in him a freezer. He let out a pent-up breath and was happy to see at least the cooling units had been turned off. He was alone for the moment and he took the time to take stock of his wounds and stretch his limbs.
He was not bound, which turned out to be a pleasant surprise, but from the looks of the door, there looked to be no need; he had no way out. The locking mechanism had been struck from inside of the doorframe and he was quite certain it’d only open up from the outside now. He had worked in the dairy department at Wal-Mart fo
r years, and knew that he was effectively trapped.
His wounds had been dressed and the ache in his chest seemed to have lessened. There were track marks on his inner arm and realized that there was a pharmaceutical reason for his heavy brain, not a physical one. Well, he guessed that they could have left him without the benefit of painkillers; but he was hesitant to be too grateful. After all, they were also responsible for beating him to a pulp as well. They gained no good will for helping to fix what they broke.
Arms stretching, he ran his fingers along a painful bit of flesh on his left arm and was disgusted to find that he had been branded like some head of cattle being lead to slaughter. After the display the night before, he had no allusions to any other such purpose in his now dismal existence. It felt similar to the one he had discovered recently on his ass and knew from the shape his hands had traced that a large R had been branded there as well.
“Fucking sons of bitches,” he muttered, getting to his feet.
His mind shifted a bit as he brought himself up and he had to reach out to a stack of boxes to keep from pitching forward. His stomach suddenly growled and he realized that he was hungry as well. Finding a purpose in his cold dark cage, with just the one overhead light to illuminate his way, he opened one of the boxes he was leaning upon and stepped back in horror; there were limbs stored within.
“Ugh, what the fuck?” he groaned as he sealed it back up and looked away in disgust. “Now that’s some sick shit.”
His voice was getting stronger and he was beginning to think maybe he hadn’t been as hurt as he thought. His limbs were soar, his left eye was still swollen, but his ribs felt less like they were broken and were probably merely bruised instead. If anything, they might be cracked, but as long as he was able to breathe without agony, he’d take whatever he got.
The Rotting Souls Series (Book 3): Charon's Debt Page 13
