Dying Days 8

by Armand Rosamilia

  Right now Main Street had about a hundred, if they were lucky. A few stragglers had come in but Bernie knew a group had gone over the wall last night once it was clear things had changed.

  People who actually felt safe with The Lich Lord taking care of things and running interference from others of his kind, she thought. It did make sense.

  It was one of the things they’d need to address soon. Once other smart zombies knew The Lich Lord was no longer a factor, they’d make their move.

  Unless they simply bowed to Darlene’s son.

  “One thing at a time,” Bernie whispered, as she nodded over and over to the new recruits.

  As she counted, she sighed. There were a lot more than she’d thought and she could tell Tosha felt the same way when she put up two fingers and shook her head to signify two hundred so far.

  How are we going to feed all of these people? Bernie knew how badly The Lich Lord had destroyed their supplies and had managed to destroy half of their gardens and crops during his temper tantrum.

  This isn’t what I signed up for. Will these people recognize the original group and not try to take their spots? Their food and water? Homes and possessions? Will they look to Bernie as their leader?

  Tosha walked across the street, between small groups of people who looked like they’d been through a war.

  Bernie guessed they really had been so it was fitting.

  “There are a lot of stragglers now. I’m guessing the zombies kept letting them pass and funneled them into the camps in the last few hours. I think we’ll have many more joining these four hundred over the next day or so. Maybe we leave a group to weed out anything that isn’t breathing?” Tosha asked.

  “We’ve already let in so many. Who knows how many are really zombies, hidden in the crowd? It would be really easy to sneak in now. I had no idea there would be this many,” Bernie said.

  “Trust me… neither did I.” Tosha pointed across the river. “I see more on the road. This is never going to end. At what point do we stop letting them in and have them set up camps outside of Main Street? If there’s an attack, they’ll all be killed.”

  “We physically don’t have the room for this many people. We can stack bodies but, in an attack, especially if the zombies set fire to structures, dozens will die without a fight. We’re being set up to fail and we don’t even know if there are any zombies already past us about to create havoc,” Bernie said. She was about to complain more when she saw a small dot in the sky and watched in horror as it got bigger.

  Tosha saw it, too, because she pointed her AK-47 at it before dropping the unloaded weapon and pulling her other weapon.

  “Is that Darlene?” Bernie asked.

  It was Darlene, who swept in on the bridge and grabbed a woman from behind, lifting her into the air and twisting her neck in one fluid motion.

  Darlene ripped the head off of the body and tossed it against the side of the bridge. The body dropped to the river below.

  Everyone walking across was stunned and stopped to stare.

  Darlene hovered in the air. “She was a zombie. I’ve been monitoring everyone coming across. So far I’ve killed six of them. They’re not controlled by anyone. Just rogues who are smart and trying to infiltrate The Promised Land. I’ll keep searching for more.”

  With that, she took off through the air again.

  Bernie thought it odd she’d mentioned The Promised Land, as if it really existed anymore. They were reduced to a single street, overflowing with so many people it might burst at any moment.

  “I think we need to start moving the walls while we can. Rebuilding the ones already up. Put these five hundred people to good use. We’ll have our original numbers soon. You need to meet with their leaders and come up with a way to keep them motivated and helping so we can be ready for the next attack,” Tosha said.

  Bernie smiled. “I love it when you talk like a leader.”

  Tosha shook her head. “I’m no leader. You are. I’d just as soon kill everyone and be done with it. There’s no tomorrow for us. No hope. The only thing I have to look forward to is so many new dicks in this crowd. Some zombies to try crossing over to our side so I can shoot the fuckers in the head.”

  “I’m going back to Main Street. I need to get everyone organized and make sure there aren’t any problems,” Bernie said.

  “I got this. Almost at six hundred already and there’s no end in sight. We might need to use the hotel that is still standing, across the street, and a lot of tents if we magically have them,” Tosha said.

  “It will be magic if we can get this shit together before the next zombie moves,” Bernie said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Even though there were a dozen people inside the bar where they’d been given housing, he felt like he was alone for the first time in forever.

  There were actual walls and electricity. Mattresses on the floor and almost no chance of a zombie wandering past and trying to get inside.

  “We might sleep well tonight,” Profit said to Big Man and Jada.

  “I’m not sleeping. I’ll take first watch tonight,” Jada said. She was cleaning her AK-47, while sitting on a stool at the bar.

  “We’re safe for a night. Enjoy the break,” Big Man said. “I heard they have cheeseburgers for us.”

  “More like human burgers. Where’d they get meat?” Jada asked.

  “I don’t give a shit what it really is. I’ll pick the toenails out of it and smother it with ketchup,” Big Man said.

  “Gross. Eating meat is gross and especially when it’s mystery meat,” Jada said.

  “I’m gonna eat the burger in front of you. Let the juices drip down my face. Pretend I’m down between your lesbian legs,” Big Man said and put up his hands with a smile as Jada charged.

  Profit grabbed her hand, which had her big nasty knife in it.

  “You need a new move. One day Profit won’t be there to catch your hand before you do something stupid,” Big Man said. “Besides, I’m not into sex. I’m into food.”

  “You’re even grosser than I thought,” Jada said and sat back down.

  “Jada is right. We need to set a watch tonight. Everyone stay close. We’re a small group but we can kick anyone’s ass. I’d just rather we didn’t fight for one day. We all go to dinner together and we stick together. One person stays behind to guard our stuff and our new lodgings,” Profit said.

  “I’m not missing a meal,” Big Man said.

  “You could live with skipping a dozen. You’re the only person I know, during a zombie apocalypse, to actually get fatter,” Jada said.

  “If you two don’t stop fighting, you’ll both stay behind,” Profit said. “I’m going to take a shower. If anyone needs anything… too fucking bad.”

  “This is a bar. There aren’t any showers,” Jada said.

  “I found a bunch of bar towels and a bar of soap in the bathroom. Did you notice outside back there was a hose? I’m going to get me a cold shower. If you want to see if the rumors about a black man are true, I’ll be out back.” Profit had been waiting for this since they arrived and he had seen the towels and soap, collecting them immediately before someone else had the same idea.

  He walked outside and took in the fresh air. The sounds of people able to talk and laugh without fear of being eaten or worse.

  Profit looked up into the streetlights and thought about the fact the bar he’d just stepped out from was well-lit and the air conditioning was working inside. He didn’t know how many generators were needed to run this place or if the actual electric grid was still operational after all this time and, right now, he didn’t care.

  What he did care about was turning on the hose and making sure it worked.

  Profit actually held his breath as he turned the stubborn knob, which probably hadn’t been used in a long time.

  At first nothing happened and he was disappointed he’d have to go in search of a shower somewhere else, but then it sputtered water and he felt the warm water
before it got colder.

  There were holes in the hose where it had begun to rot but enough water pressure allowed him to take a nice, long cold shower after he’d stripped down and tossed his dirty clothes off to the side.

  Profit didn’t care who was watching. He was enjoying this.

  “Put the hose on the bar so it splashes down,” Jada said from the doorway.

  “Thanks for the advice. I don’t suppose you want to scrub my back?”

  “I don’t suppose you grew a vagina when I wasn’t looking?” Jada asked. She walked over to Profit. “If you get me wet, I will shoot you in the head. Give me the hose.”

  Profit made sure Jada didn’t get a drop of water on her. She was the greatest person to have on your side but the worst if you crossed her, even something as small as splashing her. The woman had no sense of humor. He often wondered what she’d done before the apocalypse.

  Jada climbed onto the nearest outside bar with minimal effort and rigged it so the water shot down. She put a finger into the stream so it sprayed out.

  Profit smiled. “Thanks.”

  “I’m not going to do this forever. Get in the fucking water and wash your smelly body. I have shit to do.”

  Profit decided not to ask her what was so important. He didn’t want to know. Often, when they were out in the wild, Jada would leave in the middle of the night and not return until first light. More often than not she’d have supplies or a good story about their surroundings. It usually involved her killing people and taking their stuff.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Profit was feeling good tonight and hoped Jada was, too.

  “Ask.”

  Profit lathered the soap in his hands. His body was covered in goose bumps from the cold water and he’d never felt better.

  He felt like someone was staring at him but when he turned suddenly, expecting one of his team to be in the doorway or Jada to be checking out his package, he was disappointed. There was no one he could see and Jada was holding the hose with one hand, while rubbing her eyes with the other.

  Despite how tough she was, she was still human. She’d take a couple of power naps overnight. Never letting on she’d slept.

  “Someday you’re going to tell me how you got this far,” Profit said.

  “That’s not a question.”

  “Fine. Fair enough. Someday, will you tell me how you got this far?”

  “No,” Jada said quickly. “If you glorify the past, the future dries up.”

  Profit laughed. “Wow. Listen to you spout poetry. I would’ve never guessed.”

  “Those are song lyrics. Ever heard of the band U2? They stole them from someone else I think. It just seems fitting. You’d be amazed at the shit I have bouncing around in my head,” she said.

  “I’d love to get to hear all of it.”

  “No,” Jada said.

  “If this works out like I hope it will, at some point in the not too distant future, we’ll have plenty of free time. No looking over our shoulders. We’ll sit around and get fat and you can tell me your life story,” Profit said.

  “Or not,” Jada said. “You done yet? My arm is getting tired holding this hose.”

  “Give me another half a minute,” Profit said.

  “Just so we’re clear: not only will I not tell you about me but I don’t give a shit about your life story, either. I don’t want to talk about my feelings or cry on your shoulder, and if you tear up near me, I’ll take you down,” Jada said.

  “You’re not fooling me, you big softy,” Profit said and laughed when Jada dropped the hose and climbed down in disgust.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The new groups were settled into housing as far apart as possible. Bernie had wisely separated them. Who knew if there’d be fighting between them or if they’d gang up and take over Main Street.

  Tosha was sitting on top of one of the saloons so she could see three of the six spots. Even though they had others doing the same thing on all six groups, she wanted to see it for herself.

  An impatient group would make trouble, sending out scouts to check for weaknesses before making a move, within an hour or two.

  She could see into the rear area of the bar across the street, where, in nicer times, they’d had crowds packed in for Bike Week, listening to a band play on the stage while the many portable bars were filled with hot women wearing thongs and push-up bras serving overpriced beer to the crowd, lined up six or seven deep to get their next drink.

  Now Tosha saw Profit, naked and taking a shower with a hose and a bar of soap.

  She had to admit she was impressed with what he was carrying around with him.

  Jada was helping out, holding the hose above, but she was busy looking around. She didn’t trust anything or anyone, which could be great if they decided to stay and make peace.

  Jada would be a menace if she decided she wanted to make trouble.

  Tosha grew bored when Profit went inside and Jada followed a minute later.

  She waited ten minutes to make sure no one else came out before getting down and heading to see Bernie and check in.

  The dinner tables were being set and Tosha noticed several of the new people were helping out. Bernie had stressed not isolating all of them so they could scheme if something was going to happen.

  She’d called it a sense of ownership for the new arrivals.

  Tosha smiled. Bernie was going to make a great leader for these people.

  “Hey… can we talk?” It was April and she looked like she’d been sucking on a lemon.

  “Sure. I was coming to check in with Bernie. Have you seen her?”

  April pointed down the street.

  Tosha got a couple of steps before April cleared her throat.

  “Can this wait?” Tosha asked.

  “I’d rather just tell you and get it out. It will only take a second,” April said, looking anywhere but at Tosha.

  “Fine,” Tosha said, annoyed. She wanted to touch base with Bernie before the dinner crowd started showing up. Not that she had any pressing news or insight, but she wanted to make sure she and Bernie were on the same page during dinner. Go over the signs for trouble. Make sure everyone is in place.

  April was shuffling back and forth.

  “When you find your voice get back to me,” Tosha said and started walking away. If it was something important, April would speak up. If not… it probably wasn’t that important.

  “Wait… stop…”

  Tosha kept moving.

  “I couldn’t find Terry,” April shouted, her voice cracking when she mentioned his name.

  Tosha stopped and turned on her heels.

  “Say that again,” Tosha said.

  April looked like she was going to cry. “I went back. With my sister. Terry was gone. He untied himself. Maybe someone helped him. I don’t know.”

  Tosha didn’t need this complication right now. She wanted to rip April a new asshole but what would be the point? Terry was gone. Probably long gone.

  “Don’t sweat it. Tomorrow, if you get time, take a dozen armed men with you and give the area a thorough look. If you don’t find Terry, we’ll assume he got away and, hopefully, he’s smart enough to hit the road or the gators got his lame ass. Either way I’m done with him. I told you the other night he was your problem. Solve it if you can. Are you coming to dinner?” Tosha asked.

  April nodded her head.

  “I’ll be up above, over Bernie’s right shoulder. I would suggest you not be sitting within three or four seats, if you can help it,” Tosha said.

  “Why?”

  Tosha grinned. “Because if I have to shoot someone the blood will fly across the table and into your food. You might want to sit at the other end, to be honest.”

  “I hope you let Bernie know your plan.”

  “She’s ridden with me long enough and been through enough shit to know my plan. Trust me; she won’t want you near her. When the fight begins, be ready to move and not hesitate, got it?”
r />   April nodded again.

  Tosha wanted to give her a speech about pushing down her feelings about killing and giving April a nice told you so about Terry and how it might bite her in the ass, but she didn’t have time. “See ya later.”

  April didn’t say a word and Tosha was nearly running by the time she found Bernie.

  “Are you sure this dinner is the right move?” Tosha asked.

  Bernie shook her head. “No. I’m not. But it might be the easiest way to see who the enemy is and who’s on our side. The zombies are going to come at us and do it hard. I don’t think we have months to plan, either. I think we have weeks.”

  “Sitting around waiting is only going to lead to unrest. Idle hands and all that shit. I say we figure out who would be best suited to go do some scouting on the zombies. Take a few groups of them down. It might not make a huge difference in the long run but, if we conserve ammo and use swords and bats and shit like that, maybe we make a dent in them,” Tosha said.

  “Or maybe we piss off Darlene’s asshole kid enough he attacks sooner,” Bernie said. “I feel lost.”

  “We’re all lost. Just keep calm and act confident around these new people. I feel like a prison guard right now. We’re outnumbered but we still control the yard,” Tosha said.

  “These prisoners are also carrying automatic weapons and they have more ammo than we do. At some point, they’ll realize they can take what they want from us without much of a fight.” Bernie sighed. “I really hope Darlene knew what she was doing when she put us all together.”

  “All the more reason we need to be proactive. Not only so we keep the in-fighting and unrest to a minimum but to knock down the numbers of our enemy while they’re standing around doing nothing,” Tosha said. “I’ll take a few people with me tomorrow to scope it out. If nothing else, it will show the newcomers the full scope of what we’re dealing with.”

  Bernie looked past Tosha, where everyone was busy setting up for their first meal with the new survivors. “How many more groups like this do you think are out there? It’s obvious Darlene’s son is pushing them right to us. Why? It will only make his fucked up mission harder with more people to kill.”