Life Among The Dead (Book 3): A Bittersweet Victory

by Cotton, Daniel

  “It isn’t being soft. It’s called compromise.”

  Bruce scoffed at that.

  “If Nancy had her total way, would you even be here now?” Wall said. “No, you wouldn’t. She lets you come out. I ask you to go when she’s had enough of you. I’d like to be able to see more of you, Danny would too… Rosie would have wanted you to move on.”

  “Really? Last I recall she wanted to get married.”

  “She’d want you to be happy. True happiness, not screwing strippers and making grand gestures in her name. It’s going to ruin you.”

  The boy eavesdropping upstairs had never heard them get so serious. Usually they joked and verbally abused one another, and then physically abused one another. The tension in the air below his window was thick.

  Wallace continued, “She’s gone, man, and it’s a damned shame. You can give to all the charities in the world, Bruce, you’ll never be able to bring her back.”

  “Wouldn’t that be something?” Bruce sounded sad, like he was about to cry. Danny’s own mood waned empathetically until his uncle called to him, strong as ever, “Ya ready, boy?”

  “What’s this?” Wall asked.

  “I promised my nephew a camping trip,” Bruce said, tossing his gear into the back of his truck as if nothing was wrong and no emotional wounds had been opened.

  “Not tonight. We’re in for a big thunderstorm.”

  “That never stopped us as kids,” Bruce said. “Danny and I can take whatever Mother Nature throws at us. If you’re up early enough, when we break camp you can see me off. If not, I guess I’ll be seeing you in another year or so. Come on, Danny! We’re burning daylight!”

  2

  A full grown Dan Williamson has trouble emerging from his jaunt down memory lane, spurred on by what Carla and Oz reported about their meeting with Major Barnwell. He began telling them about the project he and his uncle worked on many years ago, and then got lost in his own mind.

  “Honey, are you there?” Heather asks him, as he blinks a few times to adjust to reality. “You just drifted away from us.”

  “Sorry,” he says to those around him--his lovely wife, his two loyal lieutenants, and Brock Rottom. The suite given to his family is quite spacious, but with so many folks in attendance it feels cramped and claustrophobic. “Anyways, Bruce and I did go camping and we caught fireflies together.”

  “I’d like to hear about that someday,” Heather gives him a hug. In light of what the three had come for, it’ll have to wait.

  “Oz thinks it’s suspicious,” Carla redirects them back to the original topic.

  “It just doesn’t add up,” Oz says. “I don’t think he’s told us everything.”

  “I think they’re just scared,” Carla says. “The radiation isn’t only stopping the clock for the dead. It’s altering their brains. The major showed us aerial footage of them.”

  Oz continues, “It was weird. Droves of them headed to the nuke plant, and just stood around staring at it. We saw clips of them chasing something, climbing over and through obstacles like no zombie we’ve ever seen. Like a small part of them woke up and now they’re able to problem solve.”

  “And he isn’t talking about Sudoku,” Carla adds.

  “That changes the tide in this war, doesn’t it?” Dan ponders. “If this Brass fellow is as armed as the major says, and if his people are as efficient…”

  “I think it’s the food!” Brock says.

  “We have food,” Carla counters.

  “But not enough for the long haul,” Heather says, with little Vincent, soon to be one year old, on her hip. Their adopted son Jack plays on the floor with a set of large blocks. She’s almost in her second trimester with their third son, Johnny, and just starting to show. “With the cure, and with people reproducing, it won’t be enough, even with the volunteers they send out fishing.”

  “They’ve already started rationing!” Brock Rottom reminds the group. “Smaller portions, less options. They won’t even let me restock my truck! I’m down to snow cones and shaved ice!”

  “What’s the difference?” Carla asks.

  “There is no difference,” Brock admits.

  The rationing hasn’t hit the Williamson family as hard since small children and expectant mothers have been excluded from the cut. Dan himself is on a high iron diet to counteract the frequent blood draws required to manufacture the vaccine. He thought it odd that they were scheduling so many draws lately, but now he knows why. They still haven’t given all of us the shot. Now they need enough to cover everyone.

  Dan had a run-in with a special carrier of the virus, a bubble girl by the name of Eve Snyder. The girl’s immunodeficiency enabled the plague to infect her without any resistance. It became a part of her but left her alive. Alive but hungry. One bite from her was enough to pass it to Dan. His body fought off this weaker strain and built precious, usable antibodies.

  “So, sweetie,” Carla says to Dan, “jealous that you can’t come with?”

  “No. Just worried,” he tells her. He’s suffered many loses during this past year, but he’s gained so much. Even if his blood wasn’t required for the antibodies it holds, even if half of his left foot hadn’t been bitten off by a gator, he doubts he’d want to go out there. “So, these super-zombies are heading south on an intercept with this town?”

  “Rubicon, yup,” Carla says.

  Oz smiles. “Rubicon. That name’s a bad omen. Then again, I’m from Waterloo.”

  “Why’s that?” Heather asks.

  “The word Rubicon is synonymous with a point of no return. It’s a river in Italy that Caesar had to cross. Doing so was an act of war and meant that once he and his troops landed on the other side there was no turning back. The die was cast. God I miss the History Channel.”

  “Did the major say how many?” Dan asks.

  “The way he put it, ‘imagine the population of New York all of a sudden decided to take a walk at the same time,’” Oz says. “Their spotters in the sky report waves of them are heading our way, with Rubicon in between. We’re supposed to use the cure as an incentive to get the citizens and all their stuff here. We leave tomorrow at zero eight hundred.”

  “We just came to say goodbye.” Carla hugs the couple in turn. “Tell you what’s up.”

  “The vampires in the lab have me scheduled for yet another bloodletting at that time,” Dan says.

  “Probably don’t want you trying to tag along,” Carla says.

  “Maybe. Fuck ’em. I’ll be there to see you guys off.”

  Dan shakes hands with Oz and Brock before they depart. Then he and Heather exchange looks of concern for their friends, but they know that if anyone can handle themselves out there it’s them. However, they still worry. They’re family.

  Dan sits with Jack, trying to get his mind off this new revelation while the boy builds with blocks. His wife takes the floor next to him and holds him tightly with her free arm. The Williamsons find comfort in the safety of their suite, watching the boys play. Though Jack and Vincent are from different parents and nine months apart, they are as inseparable as twins. The two chatter in a language all their own.

  Heather senses troubled thoughts in her husband’s mind, so she distracts him.“Tell me about the fireflies.”

  3

  No sooner do the recruits finish their training before Brass gives them and a few of his seasoned soldiers new assignments. Abby is not pleased with his, and as soon as he gets Brass alone in the armory he tells him as much. “This is bullshit!”

  “What’s bullshit?” Brass sighs. He was in high spirits on the ride back from the final exam, but now that his people have dispersed to prepare, those spirits drop as he self-reflects.

  “I should be going to that base, not test driving an outpost.”

  “I have my reasons. You, myself, and Vida are going to stay at Gabe’s tonight. Lady Luck can handle Eagle Rock.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” Abby complains. “Vida has seen Gabe’s fam
ily. She’d be able to recognize them on sight. She and I should be going to Eagle Rock.”

  “If the place is still standing, all our people have to do is ask to see them. If it has fallen, they’ll bring in anyone alive, along with all they can carry out of the armory. I think returning to the farm will be good for Vida.”

  “Fine,” Abby surrenders, but he would still rather be in on the mission to the base. It’ll be the farthest they’ve travelled since establishing their settlement and he’s going to miss out. “Maybe Vida can bring her guitar to pass the time.”

  “Pass the… How about talking to her?” Brass’s mood shifts to irritation.

  “What’s your problem?”

  “You, you dense fuck! How about sharing the time instead of killing it? Talk, laugh, kiss the pretty girl!”

  “Is that what this is about?” Abby asks. It isn’t the first time Brass has attempted to push him into the arms of a woman. “I told you--”

  “Yes, I know! When things are better. What if things never get better? What then? What if this is as good as it gets, as close as we’ll ever come to normalcy?” His harsh words echo. “How many homes have we entered where the folks inside starved to death, waiting for help that never came? Maybe making a run would’ve gotten them killed, or maybe it would have saved them. They never took the chance.”

  Abby struggles for another excuse. “Plus, she’s only seventeen.”

  “During an apocalypse! Times like these age us in dog years.” The age gap between the young pair isn’t much, but in the world before it would be construed as inappropriate, illegal in some states. “I hate watching you chase a future that may never be. You should at the least be able to share it with someone. Take some sort of comfort, no matter how fleeting.”

  “If it’s going to happen, it’ll happen, right?”

  “Right.” It isn’t a concurrence so much as defeat. “We’ll never speak of this again. Get ready to move out.”

  ###

  The addition of the Harrington outpost extends Rubicon’s territory well out of their comfort zone. But once they have established their presence, they should have nothing to fear from the dead, or the savage tribes of survivors they’ve met in the past. Such groups rebel against structure, opting to exploit the freedom the world now allows them. No rules, no repercussions, no limits on what they can do. Brass stopped trying to appeal to them many months ago. He sought to bring them into Ruby by showing them how much a civilized society can accomplish. Some defected, while many did not, and others chose to live day by day, scavenging and foraging for food. They’d rather take what they want over working for it.

  Brass drives his old Riviera south, blaring Kelly Peel’s latest before the world died. The excessive volume isn’t only because of his love for the Princess of Pop, as she was often referred to, but also a deterrent against attacks from the living threats. Those that choose the savage existence have come to learn that vehicles with no regard for covert travel have no reason to fear them, and the occupants are not to be trifled with.

  The Ruby construction team has walled off Gabe’s property completely, sealing in the peach trees Vida once helped harvest. The sturdy barrier is made from wooden planks and fallen telephone poles, and barbed wire runs along the top. Brass’s rattling black car stops at the new gate, alongside a stack of K-rails meant to prevent attackers from bashing into it with their vehicles to gain entry.

  Brass sits and waits for Abby to take the cue to get out and open the gate. The young man is in the back, and Vida must exit to let him out through her side of the two-door sedan.

  “I keep telling you, you need to upgrade to a better car, Brass. This shit box is older than I am.”

  “Personal luxury car!” Brass corrects him. “It was brand new when I bought it, and it’s perfectly fine now.”

  While Abby opens the gate and Vida waits for him to re-enter so she can take her seat once more, Brass jumps out and tosses their bags of supplies on to the dusty road. Even Vida’s guitar, which gets treated a little nicer. Brass hops back in and backs away with the passenger door still open. He laughs as Abby chases after him. The three of them were supposed to break in the new location together, but instead Abby and Vida are stranded.

  “See you in the morning, kids!” Brass calls.

  “You’re a child!” Abby hollers, after giving up his pursuit.

  “Alone at last.” Vida smiles as she collects their things. “What was that about?”

  “Oh, just Brass being a--”

  “Child,” she finishes for him.

  “Yeah.” Abby doesn’t reveal the true reason they have been marooned together. He simply collects the olive colored bags.

  The outpost is already equipped with guns and surveillance devices that Vida will learn how to use. Cameras eliminate the need for watch positions and allow those manning the fort viewing options: regular, night vision, and infrared. The electricity is already up and running from a nearby power plant the Rubies have commandeered. They have water, food, support from the nearest outpost should they need it, and as Brass planned they now have plenty of time to talk.

  The two are about to seal themselves within the new walls when a sight on the roadside catches Vida’s eye. “Hold up a sec,” she says, leaving the gear to get a closer look at a plant growing by Gabe’s mailbox.

  “Are you in to that?” Abby asks as she studies the cannabis struggling to thrive. “We keep finding it all over. I’m not much of a smoker, but some of our guys say it’s--”

  “The dopest dope they’ve ever smoked.”

  “Yeah, actually. They say something like that.”

  Vida waters the roots with a few splashes from her canteen, aiding the potsmith hero that once aided her and Gabe.

  4

  Dan remembers how, true to his word, Uncle Bruce took him camping despite the forecasted storm. The boy’s mother compromised, just happy to be rid of the man, letting them camp out for two nights as long as Bruce left the following morning. The two walked into the campsite where kids already chased fireflies in the pre-twilight. Bruce smelled rain and wanted to get their tent up before the dark clouds above broke open.

  “Can we catch fireflies now?” young Danny asked.

  “Those kids are doing it the stupid way,” Bruce said, not caring who heard him. Shocked mothers and angry looking fathers scowled at him, but dared not say a word. “Tomorrow I’ll show you how to do it the right way. Probably won’t be any left for the other kids after you’re through.”

  They cooked beans and franks by their campfire, and even had time for a few s’mores before the rain began to fall. Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the thin tent walls with a blue glow just before loud claps of thunder. Danny was scared, but Bruce told him everything would be all right. The stern man was uncharacteristically tender. He soothed his nephew’s nerves with stories, his calm voice lulling him to sleep.

  Bruce told Danny to grab his jar after breakfast, which had consisted of the best campfire eggs and bacon. Danny believed his uncle was the best at everything under the sun. Confused as to why he needed his firefly jar in the daytime, he complied all the same. Bruce led him to the edge of the woods where he crouched near some foliage covering a gnarled tree stump.

  His uncle pulled back wide leaves to reveal a thriving society of soft shelled, black bugs within the recesses of the old wood.

  Danny took a couple quick steps backwards, “Ew!”

  “What ‘ew?’ You kids are over the moon for these little creeps when their asses are on fire, but one look in the light of day and it’s a whole ’nother story.”

  “These are fireflies?” Danny moved in for a closer look, allowing himself to admire their red heads and white underbellies.

  “Sure are! Let’s get them wrangled up. Near sunset they’ll start flashing like crazy, and you’ll look like the king of all the bug catchers out there. If the rest of ’em want a firefly, they’ll have to go through you.”

  “Why aren�
��t they sleeping?”

  “Bugs don’t sleep, not like we do,” Bruce said, while helping him scoop their find into his jar. “They just shut their brains down. It’s called torpor. It’s like a meditative trance. Fish do it too, only some of them have to keep moving.”

  As usual, Bruce proved to be right. Come nightfall, the jar, a third full with fireflies, began to twinkle like a Christmas tree. All the other campers were in awe of Danny’s collection, and they gathered around for a show as he released them for everyone to enjoy and chase once again. The grateful bugs emitted their bioluminescent flashes as if to say thank you to the boy. It was like watching a line of magic rise into the darkening sky.

  Danny joined the other children in catching them the ‘stupid way.’ He found it harder than Bruce’s method, but more fun and rewarding. He learned to follow their flash but wait until they were not lit. Just a dark bug floating in the gloom, since the glare could trick the eye. To this day, this is one of Dan’s favorite childhood memories.

  ###

  “Bruce knew everything, huh?” Heather asks her husband as they snuggle on their couch, enjoying the silence with both of their boys fast asleep.

  “Just about. If he didn’t know the answer, he looked it up. He liked understanding how everything worked, and he was the absolute worst person to watch a quiz show with. I always hated when he had to leave.”

  “It’s too bad your mom and Bruce couldn’t get along. I’ve always wondered, since he and Wallace were so similar, how did your dad and mom get along so well?”

  “Dad and Bruce were practically twins, but where dad mellowed with age, Bruce fermented. He had lost Rosie, the world around him was changing. Life seemed to aggravate him to no end.

  “My mom and Rosie were actually best friends. The four of them used to do everything together. If you can believe it, they all had plans to live in the house together. One big happy family. From what my dad told me, my mom actually liked Bruce very much once upon a time. She tried to help him deal with losing Rosie. He wouldn’t have it, wouldn’t move on. They had a fight and Bruce moved away. The rift between them deepened.”