Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation

by Scott, Joshua Jared

  The laughs that followed this statement where more than justified, and my daughter joined in wholeheartedly as she leapt out of her seat and pulled the covers off the buckets.

  “Valley Town is out of the running,” she stated. “It only got…” She double checked the count. “…nineteen votes.”

  That bucket was taken away and set to the side.

  “Another low count is Valleyville.” Mary looked out at the audience. “I’m sure no one is too surprised since it sounds like an Internet game.”

  “What’s an Internet?” asked Asher. He was in Briana’s lap.

  “I’ll tell you later,” she replied, whispering.

  Mary removed all the other low votes one by one until only four buckets remained.

  “We are pretty even on three of these,” she announced, lifting each so she could rattle the marbles within. “One is way on top though.” Mary paused for a moment, allowing the suspense to build. “And the name of our town is… Baltis!”

  I’d expected as much. As to why someone suggested naming the town after a four thousand mile long lava channel on the planet Venus, I can’t even begin to guess. There can’t be more than a handful who even knew what the name referred to. However, this was one of the nominations that came with an explanation attached, and talk of how cool it would be to name our town, which sat in a long, narrow, and deep valley, after a planetary feature soon erupted. It was clearly the favorite going in.

  “Baltis it is,” I confirmed, glancing at the buckets. It certainly had the lion’s share of votes. “We do, however, need a name for our teeny, tiny, secondary settlement over by the valley wall.”

  Lizzy shot me a glare. She lived there with many of the militia members, including those tasked with manning the barrier, and did not like to have it demeaned in any way.

  “I’m going to abuse my authority and name that one myself. Since the big town is Baltis, let’s call the little one Venusville.”

  My friend’s dirty looks increased. Surrounded by children who couldn’t care less what the place was named – they were focused on Lizzy dipping their water pistols into the rain barrel so they could continue spraying unsuspecting friends and parents – she was in no position to blow up. Kids are a wonderful restraint on her otherwise cantankerous behavior.

  * * *

  “That’s it. Get out and go home. It’s way past civilized hours. You should be in bed. Mary, that goes for you too.”

  “But, Dad!”

  “No buts, young lady,” added Briana. “Jacob’s birthday is tomorrow, and there’s a lot to do in the morning. We need our rest, me most of all. We’ll see you then, Michael.”

  “Goodnight, ma’am.”

  Briana winced slightly. She got the same from people significantly older than she on a regular basis, and with her position she couldn’t comment, not without looking undignified. That did nothing to lessen her discomfort.

  “Night night.” Mary walked him to the door.

  The lad had a long hike back to Venusville – the name which I gave partly in jest had been quickly accepted; go figure – where he was currently staying, unless he stopped off at his uncle’s cabin instead. If our roles were reversed, that was what I’d do. Walking to the far end of the valley in the dark was no fun. We had a road, but there was livestock roaming about. Stepping in something smelly was a common occurrence and never enjoyable.

  “Get here early, and you can help me get things ready,” she finished.

  “Labor is good,” I agreed, “but Michael, understand, you will be laboring if you show up early, not flirting with my daughter. And speaking of flirting, you better not be thinking of doing anything perverse with Mary.” I’d long ago perfected a false look of outrage. “I’ve been noticing the way you look at her, especially over the past few days, and I don’t like it.”

  His eyes went wide. Michael might have even begun to hyperventilate.

  “Dad!” Mary was mortified.

  “Sir, I would never… I mean…”

  “Dad!”

  I had both of them in a complete panic. Hee Hee. I might be going to Hell for this, but it sure was a lot of fun. Besides, I knew they were behaving. Tara and Dale had confirmed that, not to mention their duties prevented them from being alone most of the time.

  “Jacob is kidding,” said Briana. “You know how he likes to amuse himself.”

  My wife knew me so well.

  “Mary, go pick up Asher’s toys please. He left them all over the table. Michael, get out of here. You can help in the morning if you want, but don’t arrive too early. It’s late, and we may sleep in an extra hour or two. That assumes we make it past 5:00 AM without Asher screaming that he woke up.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, giving Mary a wave and me a cautious look.

  I let the frown slide away – I was having trouble maintaining it – and Michael relaxed when he saw me grinning.

  “That was so mean,” protested Mary, after Briana closed the door.

  “Yes, it was,” confirmed my wife.

  “Michael’s a big boy. If he can go off and fight with the militia, he can take a little bit of teasing.”

  “Teasing hurts more than bullets,” pointed out Briana.

  I gave her a kiss. “You haven’t been shot.”

  “You know what I’m saying.” She started to become irate. “Teasing can hurt.”

  “Bullying hurts,” I corrected. “Teasing is fun, and there is a difference.”

  “That was bullying,” remarked Mary. She dropped a handful of Asher’s action figures in the wood chest we used as a toy box.

  “Was not. Now, if I had my hand on the grip of my pistol, that might have crossed the line.”

  “Jacob…” Briana stepped directly in front of me. “…I will have you…”

  Vomit suddenly spewed forth, all over me.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. “I am so sorry. It’s the morning sickness. This is worse than when I was carrying Asher.”

  “No, no,” I said quickly. “It’s not your fault. It happens. Not a big deal.”

  “You should tell Renee about this,” chimed in Mary. “She told you about when she drank too much.”

  “It’s not the same,” retorted Briana. She stumbled to the nearest chair. “That one came on so fast. I may need to stay in the citadel more often. Wouldn’t want to do that during a meeting. It would be too embarrassing.”

  Mary snorted. “All the women would sympathize, and if any of the guys commented, they’d get hit in the head with a frying pan. And you have one up on Renee since she did it to herself by getting drunk. You could tease her.” She shot me a look. “But not as mean as Dad.”

  “The way you tease everyone, you shouldn’t be complaining, and no stopping the cleanup. Get those toys in the box. I know you were playing with them too.”

  “I was babysitting. That’s work, not play.”

  “Mary.” Briana pointed at the kitchen. “Get me a bucket, fast.”

  The seventeen year old broke into a run, retrieving the trashcan just in time.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled, after a second bout and some dry heaving, “this is bad. I’m going to bed.”

  I helped her into the room, placing a second plastic trashcan beside the bed. I’d empty the dirty one before I turned in myself. I went ahead and changed my clothes as well.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she replied. “I just need to lie down.”

  Helping her into a nightgown, I fluffed the pillow and arranged the blankets around her.

  “If you need anything, just yell. It won’t take us long to finish cleaning up.”

  “I’m good. Don’t worry.”

  It was hard not to, but I turned off the light and shut the door.

  “Got the mop,” said Mary, when I reappeared.

  “This was a doozy,” I agreed, looking at the mess on the floor. “I think it’s pretty much everything Briana had for dinner.”

 
She crinkled her nose. “Yep, and she hit you good too.”

  “Don’t even think about saying I deserved it,” I warned, no trace of malice in my voice.

  “Nah, this was a baby thing, and Briana does get sick a whole lot when she’s pregnant. I bet it happens again.”

  I shrugged. “Probably will. I’ve never known anyone to get as nauseated as her or for it to last almost start to finish. Anyway, as long as she doesn’t puke on Asher we’re good. It’s bad enough with him throwing up half the time he sees her do it. Can you imagine the screaming if he gets sprayed?”

  “Would be bad. Bad if she pukes on me too.”

  Full agreement on that point. Then again, no one wants a pregnant woman to vomit on him or her. Well, let’s change that to no one except those with deep seated emotional problems.

  “Go ahead and tell Michael that I really was kidding earlier, when you see him tomorrow, and it will be tomorrow. You are not going out again tonight.” I paused. “He’s a good kid. I like him.”

  That brought a smile to Mary’s face, and I likely would have received a hug if not for the stench I was exuding. I needed to wash up before joining Briana in bed.

  * * *

  I’m not going to discuss my actual birthday party, except to say that Briana did not vomit on the cake, any of the guests, or in public. Total success. Instead, I’m going to shift to the day after that when Captain Briggs flew in, accompanied by Sergeant Brown who continued to serve as his XO. I’d informed Hawaii that I was getting ready to move, and that if they had anything to offer, suggest, or request it had better arrive soon. They were carrying the politicians’ decision.

  “The government has passed a resolution declaring genocide immoral.”

  “What?” asked Marcus.

  He was sitting at the table, along with myself, Lizzy, and Renee. Briana was in the corner looking miserable and feeling worse. Mary was beside her in case she needed anything. I’d suggested that she lie down, but my wife was determined to keep abreast of all developments. It would be important after I left and all responsibility for local governance fell to her. Also, she wanted to know exactly what I was going to face and how dangerous it might be.

  “Everyone knows genocide is fucking immoral,” snapped Lizzy, “doesn’t stop it from happening all the damn time either, not now and not before the world went to shit.”

  The captain shook his head. “It’s a resolution without teeth, a waste of time that received a unanimous vote.”

  “Are they going to use this against us due to the raiders and the cave?” I asked.

  “They better fucking not,” declared Lizzy. She crossed both arms over her chest. “That was an accident. We didn’t know they were in there.”

  “It was due to that in part,” he admitted. “No one holds the actual deaths against you or Yellowstone. There was no way to know they had their non-combatants in the cave, and they were firing from the entrance. All actions taken were reasonable, given the circumstances. Rather, they wanted to stress, in a somewhat round about way, that you should be extra careful this time since we know for a fact they have children on the island.”

  “Jacob isn’t going to kill a bunch of kids,” argued Lizzy. “This is fucking insulting.”

  I had considered dropping incendiaries on their settlement in the middle of the night and just burning the entire lot to death, kids or no, but Lizzy was right. I couldn’t bring myself to slaughter little ones if there was any way to avoid it, no matter how much quicker and easier that made everything.

  “I did receive the impression,” continued Briggs, “that the government was not completely displeased with the results. There has been a great deal of difficulty with many of the survivors brought there, especially those who’d been isolated or living hand to mouth doing what they had to in order to stay alive. Reintroducing these to civilized society has not been smooth, and quite a few are institutionalized while undergoing psychiatric treatment or rather what passes for it nowadays.”

  “And they are happy they didn’t get the brats of a bunch of fucking psychos to deal with,” concluded Lizzy. “Fucking hypocrites.”

  “They would have preferred to keep them alive,” clarified the captain, “but they aren’t shedding tears over their loss.”

  “That is understandable,” pointed out Renee. “This would have been a large group too, stretching their resources which are anything but unlimited. There’s a good chance they would have tried to kill everyone as well. You know the prophet was preaching that for the past few years. Even the toddlers were bound to be messed up in the head.”

  I figured she was likely correct, and while I would have preferred to see the children survive, I hadn’t lost too much sleep over their deaths either. Having any of the prophet’s people around would be dangerous. Briana and I never would have allowed them stay with or near us, barring the youngest who could be fostered and brought up right. Best case, had Hawaii not been there to take them, would be to visit the nearest highway and send them on their way. With the zombie menace being the way it was, exile was little different from a death sentence, but what were the alternatives?

  “What else did the government have to say?” I asked.

  “Sergeant.”

  “Sir.” Brown nodded to his superior and passed me a folder. “They want you to seize the island community and transport the prisoners to Montana.”

  “Montana!” Lizzy slapped a meaty hand against the table top. “Any idea how far that is?”

  “This airstrip is sufficient for the transport planes they are sending,” continued the noncom. “It is also the closest such location to the lake. We will secure and hold it until the aircraft arrive. We will also unload the supplies they are bringing. There will be materials for both Yellowstone and the Black Hills. They will then take the prisoners back to Hawaii for reeducation. Maps are included.”

  I glanced at the charts provided. I knew the area fairly well and thought I could get there without too much trouble. I’d have Xavier fly over the roads to be certain.

  “You can use the same trucks carrying the prisoners to cart the supplies back here,” said Captain Briggs. “That portion of the run should be fairly routine.”

  “We need tampons,” said Briana. “Tell them those have to be included among our supplies, along with medicine and vitamins.”

  “The tampons we can do,” replied the sergeant, opening his briefcase and checking a list. “There is a small factory manufacturing those now.”

  “Really?” asked Lizzy. “About fucking time. We’ve been going off what we pulled from grocery stores and houses or making do.”

  “The government is setting up small plants, often with only a few workers each, to produce specific items. A sizable portion of the populace is either military or involved in the production and transportation of raw materials. Most of the remainder are in service positions or crafting. The big ones are the steel mill and refinery, which were already in place. There is also a textile mill producing cotton and wool cloth, several lumber mills, a foundry for bricks, concrete production, and so forth.”

  “How are the economics working?” I knew they were shifting people toward industry but hadn’t kept up on the details.

  He grimaced. “It’s getting there, but there are issues, mostly with the new dollar currency. Since there is no shortage of the old, new ones had to be created and distributed. There have been problems getting that going, along with printing the appropriate amounts.”

  We hadn’t bothered with anything similiar. No one was paid for his or her efforts, and everyone had to work. Briana and I, mostly Briana, placed people where they wanted to be whenever possible, and we made sure everyone had plenty of food and anything else necessary to stay safe and comfortable. There was rampant bartering of course, but I didn’t care what anyone did with their personal property. Steal from the community, however, and you would be bound to a pole and whipped. No toleration for that sort of thing.

  Eventually, we wo
uld have to bring back regular money. With survival being foremost on everyone’s mind, it wasn’t a great concern, but that would change. At any rate, our commune style existence could not last. Such systems always failed in the end, as did all forms of socialism. Such programs are inherently abusive, irrational, and contrary to human nature. It was only the crisis that kept us going now. Hopefully, Hawaii and the island government would get theirs sorted out, so I could hop on the bandwagon without having to do anything myself.

  “The medicine,” prompted Briana. “What are they producing? Anything new?”

  “There are stocks of old drugs, many of which are still usable,” said the captain. “I can and will get those here.”

  Neither of us cared too much about that. We had looted plenty of hospitals and pharmacies.

  “As to newer medications,” he continued, “not much has changed. Very little is being produced. We lack the expertise, and there are no doctors or scientists with direct knowledge regarding their manufacture. Taking equipment from a handful of pharmaceutical companies, we can produce limited amounts of a limited number of specific drugs. That’s it, and I do not see this situation improving. In most cases, we can’t obtain the ingredients, specifically naturally occurring ones originating elsewhere on the planet and derivatives that require complicated refinement.”

  “So, we lack ingredients A, B, C, and D,” I said, “along with labs that will refine A, combine B and C, and refine D. Then we lack different labs that would combine refined A and refined D and further process the B/C combination. Is that about right?”

  “Exactly,” said Briggs.

  “Then we can’t hope for computers or televisions anytime soon either?” asked Lizzy.

  “Those aren’t even on the list of products being considered,” answered Sergeant Brown.

  “Bummer,” muttered Mary.

  “We have stocks of those here and more in Custer and a few outlying warehouses,” I said. “When ours break, we get more. We can keep going for a long time yet.”