Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation

by Scott, Joshua Jared

  “I do love delegation. I delegate most of my shooting to the twins.”

  Tara and Dale were sitting on the porch steps playing Yahtzee. With the fighting essentially concluded and us being back in what passed for civilization, they had relaxed somewhat. I still couldn’t go anywhere without them following, which was annoying, but that would change once we were back in the Black Hills. Briana would undoubtedly, hopefully, have the pair doing something other than watching me.

  “They are fine shots,” agreed Briggs, “and consider that a good thing since most of your military personnel are getting recalled.”

  I straightened. “What do you mean they’re getting recalled?” This was not good. “What about you and the ones here?”

  “I’m staying as head of the Yellowstone militia. I’ll have two others remaining with me. That will be Sergeant Brown and one other who has yet to be determined. You are going to lose all of your trainers. They aren’t needed any longer, and the islands require soldiers for what they are doing. And, before you ask, I don’t know what that entails.”

  “Some are married now, a few have babies on the way.”

  He nodded. “Their families go with them, of course. A plane will arrive in a few weeks to relocate everyone to Hawaii.”

  “Damn politicians are always messing up my life.” I added a few derogatory adjectives under my breath. I hated politicians, hated bureaucrats even more. It didn’t help that I was one myself. “Probably won’t be too much griping about leaving, I hope.”

  “It’s part of being in the Army, or any branch of service.”

  “Yeah, some things never change, even after six billion and more end up dead.”

  There wasn’t much to say to that, so we dropped the pointless editorials and began to discuss the best way to get things done.

  * * *

  “Dad!” Mary came bounding across the grass, veering around a fresh mound of bison poop. “Michael’s moving to the Black Hills with us.”

  Oh, joy. Now, don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against the kid, and he’ll make a fine addition to our own militia, assuming he goes that route. Even if he didn’t, I’m sure he would contribute in some other manner. No, the problem is that Mary would almost certainly start dating the boy, but it was bound to happen at some point.

  “His Uncle Carter is coming too.”

  I hadn’t spoken much with the man, but Mary said he was pretty cool with lots of neat war stories. Our demolition expert, Carlson, had served in Vietnam at the same time as Carter. They’d never run into each other over there, but they’d grown close over the past couple of weeks. The two were always off drinking together, making passes at women, talking about the best ways to blow things up. Carlson said he was good guy.

  “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, so get them packed.”

  She was beaming. “Sure thing. I’ll even help. I’m great at telling people where to put their stuff.”

  “You go do that, pipsqueak.”

  “Hey! I am not a pipsqueak.”

  I ruffled her blonde hair. “You’ll always be my pipsqueak. I’ll be with Lizzy in case you need anything. She’s coming back with us, unless the doctors say otherwise.”

  “Oh, she’ll be coming back,” confirmed Mary. “Lizzy is not at all happy in the hospital. She’s already threatened to kill one of the nurses.”

  “You took away her gun, right?”

  My daughter smirked. “I even took away her fork and spoon. She was really mad when she found out there was no way to eat her Jell-O.”

  Was there any truth to that statement? No clue, although I wouldn’t put it past Mary.

  * * *

  “How are you doing?”

  Lizzy glared and pulled her T-shirt high enough for me to see the bandage.

  “Looks white and gauzy.”

  The dirty look deepened.

  “Twenty three stitches,” she declared.

  “Sounds like a lot for a single bullet.”

  “Most are where it went out. Just hit skin and fat, no bones or important things.”

  I wisely, I’m sure, refrained from making any jokes or comments about her size.

  “Hurt a whole fucking lot. They said I’m going to have a scar too, like that isn’t obvious. Fucking raiders.”

  “I’m sure it did. My shoulder was killing me for weeks after I was shot. Any infections or complications to worry about?”

  “Nah, I’m good to go back with you.”

  Excellent. I definitely wanted Lizzy back at the citadel. We had lots of planning to do. The raider issue was finally resolved, and we could now shift to all the other matters we’d been neglecting. There was no shortage of those.

  “Do you think I have a control problem?”

  I looked at her skeptically, a bit surprised at the question. “You need to ask?”

  Lizzy blushed. “Not me swearing and screaming – I always did that – but real self-control.”

  “What’s bringing this up?”

  “I met a gal.”

  That explained a great deal about why Lizzy was so out of sorts lately.

  “Let me guess,” I began. “She said that she liked you, blah, blah, blah, but wasn’t comfortable with the way you act. If you somehow changed, blah, blah, blah, then the two of you could really get together.”

  “Do you have to make it sound so… so…” She was at a loss for words.

  “Trite, obnoxious, insulting?” I offered.

  “Fucking yes!”

  I sighed. “Lizzy, I love you. You know this. You are one of my best friends. Sweetheart, no one can change another person, ever. Deep seated fundamental changes have to come from inside.”

  “She didn’t try to change me. She told me to change myself.”

  “Same thing. She just took the easy, lazy route by putting it all on you.” I paused. “Who are we talking about anyway?”

  “I don’t want to say.”

  “Fair enough.” It didn’t really matter. “So, is this really about control or is it about bad habits, like every other word you uttering being something obscene?”

  “My language is not fucking…” She trailed off.

  “Exactly. We could all tell you were trying to keep it under wraps, which is nice since you’ve steadily grown worse the past few years, especially after the war with the raiders began in Wyoming.”

  “It was after Lois died,” corrected Lizzy. “You didn’t notice that winter in the castle because it was just us and we were stuck there without anything to set me off, but that was when I went downhill.”

  I missed Lois. She had been a fine lady.

  “Lizzy, the language doesn’t bother any of us, except when you are around the children.”

  “I’ve been good with them,” she protested.

  “You have, mostly, but you are also combative, always ready to say exactly what you think, always more than ready to point out the stupidity of others. Still, it’s no biggie. You scream and throw temper tantrums over nothing…” The glare returned. “…but you don’t hurt people. You really are mostly non-violent, where it counts. I don’t see your behavior as a problem, nor do I think you have to change.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I’m not even sure if she meant language or temper or whatever. Mostly I’ve been worried about how Mary might react.”

  “Mary is fine, and she won’t care if you start seeing someone. Her sister died a long time ago, and you’ve been faithful to her memory every day since. It would be okay with her if you finally moved on.”

  Lizzy had known Mary longer than I, but I was far closer to the teenager. Also, my adopted daughter had asked me repeatedly if I couldn’t get Lizzy to at least speak with other women – there were several confirmed lesbians in the settlement – to which I always said no, that I wasn’t getting involved in anyone’s personal affairs. That led to trouble and grief which I’d rather avoid.

  “You think so?”

  “I do, and before I stick your ass in a wheelchair and
roll you out the door, let me bring up a few more personal traits you might not be aware of.”

  “Do it,” she snarled, “and I’ll cut your balls off.”

  I leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “No, you won’t, but we can save it for later.”

  * * *

  We attacked the prophet’s camp in the wee morning hours on the fourth of June and arrived back in the Black Hills late in the afternoon on the seventh. Waiting for us was a massive celebration put together by Steph, with Renee contributing to ensure the kinks that occurred during the prior party were not repeated. I’m not really sure what those were. Anyway, there was roasted pig, barbecue, steaks and burgers, strips of venison, and a wide variety of produce to balance it out. We even had some honey for the fresh baked bread, beekeeping being a new thing we were trying.

  Renee had rearranged the outer watches and patrols so everyone could be there at least part of the time. Those who didn’t drink were given the later shifts. It would never do to have someone pass out when he or she was supposed to be watching for zombies. Renee had planned on taking a shift herself, but her own people vetoed that notion. For one, they thought the woman deserved the break. Second, they knew I was going to be asking her all sorts of work related questions, even if there was an assembly of the leadership the following day. Renee would need the extra time if there was to be any chance of her relaxing.

  “We’ve turned a corner,” I announced.

  There were plenty of cheers. Granted, the mood was so positive that nearly anything I said would have generated the same result.

  “However, I have realized that there is a dire problem which we have thus far failed to address.”

  I tried to look stern and worried, and the people quickly quieted down. To my side, Briana appeared alarmed. I had not discussed this with her, and she had no inkling what I was referring to.

  “Our town…” I pointed at the rows of cabins and the network of stone and gravel roads before me. “…does not have a name. Think about that for a moment. We have no name. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. We can’t keep calling it the valley, and what will we do when postal service resumes. You know there will come the day when that happens. Without a name, there can be no mail deliveries. Action must be taken.”

  Briana somehow refrained from rolling her eyes.

  “Anyone who wants to can propose a name. We are going to take the best of these, and on the Fourth of July there will be a vote. Our beautiful settlement will have its new name, and we are going to have a double celebration, for both the Fourth of July and for Naming Day.”

  You can never have too many celebrations.

  The happy faces reappeared, along with more than a few frowns. Some people have no sense of humor.

  * * *

  “What is going on!” I’d pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt before stumbling out of the bedroom. I was still barefoot. “Explanations, now.”

  One of the sentries in the citadel had come into the house calling for Briana and I to get up, that there was a problem we needed to deal with. I’d only just fallen asleep. After leaving the party early, in order to spend some quality time with my wife and son, I played with Asher until he collapsed from exhaustion. Then there were more conversations with Briana, coupled with promises that I would do whatever I could to not go running off yet again, before we finally went to bed.

  “No shouting,” she ordered, trailing after me. “Asher is sleeping, and he better not be woken up.”

  Like me, Briana had pulled on whatever was handy, in this case a pair of jogging pants and a sweatshirt.

  “And if this isn’t an attack, I might just kill someone,” she concluded.

  The woman who’d destroyed any chance of a good night’s rest shook her head. There is always a militia member on duty nearby who can enter the house if we have to be alerted to a crisis. As it turned out, all are women. This was Briana’s decision, based on her being more comfortable with the arrangement and justified by freeing up men for duties that require greater physical exertion, or so she claims. Renee, Steph, Lizzy, and the twins can come and go as they please as well.

  The front door opened, and the sentry beckoned the others inside. Dale came first, dragging Tim Myers by the arm. His nose was smashed, and the teenager was holding a bloody handkerchief to his face. Tara followed close behind, one hand lightly resting on the pistol at her waist.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Alan and Lucy Myers were the last to enter. Tim’s mother looked particularly distraught, but the woman was easily startled and prone to full blown panic attacks. With a personality like that, it was amazing she continued to function, given the entire apocalypse thing.

  “There seems to have been a misunderstanding,” began Alan.

  I respected this man. He was clever, hardworking, dedicated to our cause. He was also a father, with his son standing before him. That could not be discounted or overlooked. His viewpoint would be colored.

  “Tara, Dale?” Briana took a seat. I remained standing. “Go ahead and tell us why you brought Tim here.”

  The siblings looked at each other briefly before Tara began. “Mary and Michael went dancing.”

  “Then they went for a walk,” said Dale.

  “Tim was following them, hiding,” she finished.

  “Tim,” I asked, “were you following my daughter and Michael?”

  Saying ‘my daughter’ might help remind Alan that his child wasn’t the only one involved in whatever had just occurred. That was a conscious action on my part. I’d been getting better at the psychology aspects of the job.

  “No!” The word came out muffled. His nose must have really been broken good.

  “Dale?” prompted Briana.

  “We stopped him by the dairy stable, the one painted blue.”

  That was past the cabins at the edge of the town proper. Beyond it was nothing but our farms, some open areas, and the ridges that formed the boundary of the valley. Even if Tim had been going the same direction while still in town, an unlikely coincidence, there could be no reason to trail Mary that far.

  “Where’s Mary now?” continued Briana.

  “Visiting Lizzy,” said Tara.

  Dale nodded. “We told her to go back to the citadel.”

  Mary had likely not appreciated them ordering her around, but as rarely as the twins told others what to do, she would not have argued the point. Going to visit Lizzy instead of coming straight home would be her rebelling. It was so minor that I didn’t blink an eye. Kids could do much worse.

  “They beat up our son!” declared Lucy Myers, loudly.

  “No screaming,” reiterated Briana, firmly. “You wake up Asher, and I’ll have them toss you out that door headfirst.”

  It was unusual for my sweetie to be less diplomatic than me. It could be the hormones, or maybe she was just cranky.

  “Dale, tell me the rest that happened,” I said.

  “We stopped him.”

  “He got mad,” added Tara. “We told him to go away.”

  “Tim tried to punch me,” said Dale. “He missed.”

  “Dale did not miss,” concluded his sister.

  I hate it when they finish each others’ sentences. It happens quite frequently but wasn’t really noticeable unless they had a lot to say, like now.

  “Tim, do I need to have someone collect Mary and Michael to get their version of events?” I stared at him intently. “Or would you prefer to elaborate?”

  “I might have taken a swing,” he admitted, shifting his feet uncomfortably.

  “Tim!”

  His mother was not pleased. Judging from his expression, his father less so.

  “I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was just outside, and Mary shouldn’t have been out with him.”

  “Who my daughter associates with is not a matter for you to be concerned about,” I remarked, harshly and with no attempt to hide my growing anger. “Your behavior has been annoying up to now, but going from not getting the hint
that she will never, ever go out with you, that there is no chance you will ever have a relationship with Mary…” He grew pale and began to shake. “…to stalking my sixteen year old daughter is completely unacceptable. And don’t you dare say that her feelings were not made perfectly clear. You know where Mary stands.”

  “This will not happen a second time,” said Alan. “Isn’t that right, Tim?”

  The boy looked at his father, then to his mother, and finally at the floor. “It won’t.”

  “Take him over to the hospital and get his nose straightened out,” I said.

  “If Mary’s still there, have her come home,” added Briana.

  I nodded my assent. There’d have to be a conversation with her as well. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but this matter wasn’t going to be swept under the rug, not within our family at least.

  The Myers household filed out the door, and I motioned for the sentry to leave as well. Rumors of what happened would be swirling about by morning. Fortunately, fights and arguments relating to romantic issues were common enough that it wouldn’t stand out too badly. More fortunately, we had almost no instances of rape, attempted rape, or any other version of sexual assault. The fact you would be tied to a tree and left for the zombies helped with that. Everyone having and usually carrying a gun contributed, especially when one remembered that we have no effective limits on a person’s right to self-defense.

  “Tara, Dale, I don’t think there will be any more problems, but can you keep an eye on Mary and Michael, Tim too? Nothing big, so don’t be following them around everywhere, but if you notice anything funny let me know.”

  “Tim’s leaving the valley,” said Briana. “I’m having Lizzy and Renee move him out to the edges somewhere. Maybe a few months away will help.”

  “Won’t hurt,” I agreed.

  Getting watch duty or cutting firewood outside the Black Hills was a common punishment for those who misbehave. Tim being in the militia meant he was held to a higher standard of conduct. According to our rules, I could be really cruel and force him to do something super unpleasant like scrubbing out the septic tanks, but I wasn’t ready to go quite that far.