At the sight of all the blood, he had to sit down before he fell down. He couldn’t even look at the boy, still dripping on his polished marble floors, or he might be sick. Was that pieces of someone’s brains speckled all over his shirt? He reached for the trash can and barely got it to his mouth before he lost his breakfast.
“We’ll give you a minute, Director.” Scarlet said. “He is kind of a train wreck, huh? Mind if he uses your bathroom to clean himself up a little?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, just pointed Jessie in that direction, careful not to touch him. He was a mess.
She poured the Director a stiff drink of Scotch from one of the bottles that hadn’t been shattered and he gulped it down then started coughing.
“Easy there, Tiger.” she said. “If there’s no more of them then you’re in no danger. You’re safe if you told the truth. You weren’t lying to us, were you? There aren’t any more in town?”
“No.” he said and held his glass out for another tall shot. “They came in yesterday, that was all, just those six. They were evaluating and inventorying the towns assets. They said they would spare everyone’s lives if we joined them. Their leader heard you were at the gate and called all his men in here to, uh, get you.”
Jessie came back out, dripping wet, his boots squishing with water. He’d hopped in the private shower, clothes and all. It was the easiest way to wash the mess off.
“We came back to warn you about them.” he said. “You’ve seen what they can do and you’ve seen what we can do. The war has been building for months and now that it’s started, you’re going to have to choose sides.”
“But we want to remain neutral.” the director almost whined. “Like Sweden. We don’t want to pick a side. Why can’t you just forget about us? We’ve tried hard to stay under the radar, to take care of ourselves. We want to be left alone.”
“We’ll leave you alone.” Jessie said. “But they won’t. They’ll be back and they’ll be pissed you let their soldiers get killed. They might even think you did it, that you ambushed them.”
“But that’s not true!” he wailed and held out his glass for more Glenfiddich. He was a man of papers and pens not one of guns and ammo. He was at a complete loss. He didn’t know what to do.
“How many of your men did they kill when they came in?” Scarlet asked.
“Eight.” Heh answered. A figure written on a piece of paper. A fact he knew and understood. “But seven more were injured and three of those probably won’t make it.”
“They’ll make an example of you when they come back.” Scarlet said, watching the director turn a whiter shade of pale.
In just the few minutes they’d been talking to him, Jessie and Scarlet both intuited what kind of man he was. An opportunist and a coward. Lakota didn’t roll in and eliminate someone just because they didn’t like them. That’s what Casey or the Anubis cult would do. It was still a free country and it was still the people’s choice who their leaders were and this guy must be doing something they liked. They needed him to tell his people what to do, which side to chose and who to fight.
“You need to call a town meeting.” Jessie said. “And it needs to be now. We have to know if we’re going to help you defend against the Cult or if we’re going to leave you on your own. There are other towns that need us if you don’t want assistance.”
He quickly agreed, seeing them as his only hope. Like it or not, if he didn’t want to be skinned alive or fed to the zombies or any of the other tortures the Cult had promised, he had to join with Lakota. His only other choice was to go on the run but that was out of the question. He’d never survive outside the walls.
It took less than an hour for the runners to notify the town and everyone that wasn’t on guard duty or out on the boats checking the fish farms was gathering on the square. Nearly four hundred people were milling around and even if he didn’t particularly like the way they ran the town with so many rules and regulations, they were very efficient. He wondered if it was because they were mostly of German descent in this part of North Dakota. He’d heard his dad tell stories of how organized and meticulous they were. How everything had to be orderly and neat. How they built some of the finest automobiles known to man. Maybe he’d just got off on the wrong foot on their first visit. They didn’t do things the Lakota way but so what. What ever worked for them, as long as they weren’t trying to enslave people or eat them, it was fine with him. He would never be able to live here himself, it seemed way too restrictive, but if they liked rules about what color your house could be, more power to them. It was sort of like living in a strict HOA neighborhood that encompassed the whole town. He was pretty sure there were people in Lakota and maybe even Tombstone that would be eager to move to the island. His dad had always said some people thrived on structure. He’d bet Sheriff Collins would feel right at home.
The Director used a PA system to address them and gave a brief rundown of what had happened. How two teenagers had just killed the black clad men of the Anubis Movement and now the town had a choice to make. No more neutrality, no more sitting it out. They had to choose and they had to choose now. They already knew what joining the Cult entailed. The men who had killed their guards and lead a horde of the undead to their walls had made it clear. Join us, defeat the enemies of the Lord of the Underworld and you will live. Refuse and you will die. We will open the gates and you will be devoured. There was no choice.
Now, standing before them, were two kids not even old enough to vote telling them there was another way. Most had heard of the Road Angel from the radio, had heard of his deeds and exploits. Some believed but most didn’t. They assumed it was stories with a kernel of truth that were overblown and exaggerated.
Jessie told them of Lakota, told them nothing was expected of them except they fight and defend their own town. The new United States didn’t need them to join an army or send supplies. In fact, they would send soldiers to train them and heavy weapons to mount on their walls. They only needed for them to fight for what was already theirs and if the citizens of the island were willing to do that, they would show them how. Show them the weaknesses of the Cult. Show them how to defeat them.
“But what about the hundreds of zombies at the front gate?” some one yelled. “They killed most of our fighters, our militia who knew how to take them out.”
“Everyone has to learn how to kill the undead.” Jessie said. “Not just a chosen few. In Lakota, Tombstone, Cascade and Blackfoot, everyone fights. Old and young, weak and strong. If you can hold a gun, you can kill the zombies.”
He saw doubting looks on their faces and had to remember where they were. An island only accessible by a road at either end. A tourist town that by a stroke of luck hadn’t been infected back in September. They had watched it all unfold on TV, had put up some walls and a few dozen men started a militia that kept everyone safe. It was probably the least affected town in America and they’d found solace and comfort by staying isolated, following the rules and living from greenhouse crops and fishing.
The undead were still pounding on the gates at the West end of town, still listlessly trying to get through.
“We’ll go out and eliminate most of them.” Jessie said “and we’ll leave some alive for you to practice on.”
There were looks of disbelief and outright scoffs that a couple of kids could go kill a hundred undead. Jessie knew the first thing he had to do was put their doubts aside. He had to make them see the dead weren’t as deadly as they used to be and the Cult wasn’t all powerful and invincible.
“Get on the wall.” he said. “We’ll show you what we can do. After that, we’ll teach you how to do the same. It’s all in the training. If a ninety-eight-pound girl can do it, you can learn to do it, too.”
He didn’t tell them about their enhancements, they needed to believe in themselves, believe they could learn to fight. They could, Jessie knew. They’d never be as fast or strong as him and Scarlet but they wouldn’t be taking on a hundred z
eds by themselves and they would be using guns but they needed to believe. Needed to know Lakota had the baddest bad asses who would fight for them, have their back and wouldn’t be defeated by a bunch of clowns attacking from the north. If two teenagers could take on an armed squadron of the Anubis warriors, it they could defeat a horde of the undead, then they would realize Lakota was as strong as they claimed. That they would be fools not to join them.
From the top of wall, they could see the horde stretched out before them, packed tight and surging forward. They were slow and broken, couldn’t even muster up enough coordination to pile on top of each other to make a ramp. They’d been out in the weather since the beginning, overall a pretty sorry bunch of zombies.
“That’s it?” Jessie asked when he saw them. “They’re afraid of that?”
“Don’t be show off.” Scarlet said, buckling the collar of her leathers tight around her neck. “They’ve never had to fight them and most of their warriors are dead.”
The whole town couldn’t stand on the catwalks but most of them had managed to squeeze on and could see the grasping, rotting hands pressing against the steel. Most were nearly naked and old wounds had crusted blood and broken bones sticking out of them.
“Me and Bob can take care of this.” Jessie said as he fastened his own battered leathers and pulled his spiked knuckle dusters from their hiding place under the pauldrons.
He turned to look over the edge, trying to find a fat one to land on.
“Why don’t you sit this one out” he said, knowing it would piss her off. “go make me a sandwich and maybe some of that iced tea.”
He loved it when she got mad and her English faltered. It sounded so cute.
“I not you slave!” she said and kicked him over the edge. There was a sharp intake of breath as two hundred people gasped but Jessie was laughing all the way down. He drove his boots into hungry, upturned mouths, went down under a pile of squishy flesh and brittle bones and came up swinging. Bob barked a few times from the wall and dove in after him, his armor tearing apart faces and his fangs ripping out throats. Jessie was like a piston driven machine, his blades and spikes dealing out death, sending teeth and jawbones flying, crushing heads and splashing out their contents. Bob’s raging snarls were guttural and undead screams ceased one after another as the tore into them. The people on the wall watched in wide-eyed wonder as the boy and his dog waded through the scrabbling monsters, breaking them and killing them in blindingly fast and vicious blows.
“HEY!” Scarlet yelled as she dove. “Leave some for me!”
She leaped high and rolled in midair, whipped out her batons extending the stainless-steel harbingers of death and landed on a mound of flesh. From on top of the wall they watched in disbelief. They witnessed as two kids and a dog tore through a horde of hundreds that would rip them limb from limb if they could. Would sink rotting teeth into tender flesh and tear chunks of if away if they could. Would turn them into one of the undead if they could.
But they couldn’t.
Biting heads were caved in, reaching arms were brutally broken, stumbling legs were shattered. If one of them did get close enough to bite, their teeth would break on the armor or slide away on the leather. They watched in awe as the strangers killed them all and then argued over who should kill the last one. It stumbled towards one then the other, unable to choose which one to attack. The dog finally finished it when he sprang and nearly ripped its head off with a savage snarl.
The Road Angel bowed low to the girl in black leather and clapped his hands in appreciation. She curtseyed, spreading an imaginary dress while her boots were in a pile of entrails from skull smashed corpses. Not five minutes had passed and they were standing among the remains of hundreds of dead. The horde that had the whole town nearly paralyzed with fear, the terrible enemy, that wasn’t so terrible after all.
80
Jessie + Scarlet
The people who hadn’t seen the carnage, who almost couldn’t believe what the ones on the wall were telling them, saw it first hand when the gates were opened and the two kids and their dog walked back through, piles of corpses stretched out for a hundred yards.
They met back in the town square and listened raptly as the blood covered boy with too long hair, a scar on his face and guns hung low addressed them. He’d shown them what was possible, the undead were slow and easily defeated if you knew how. The Anubis Cult would force them to join their army in the march to conquer the lands. Lakota offered them friendship and trade. Mutual defense, military grade weapons and men to train them how to use them.
“Vote now.” Jessie said when he’d finished. “Show of hands. If you’re not interested in our help, we’ll leave.”
He couldn’t tell if all four hundred people voted to join with Lakota but everyone he could see had a hand in the air.
“I’ll get on the radio, let them know what you need.” Jessie told the Director. “Welcome to the new United States.”
81
Tombstone
The people of Tombstone were dead set against loading the Bradley back up on the lowboy. They’d seen it in action and wanted to keep one for themselves. Hot Rod spent some time on the radio with Cobb, Tackett pleaded his case and, in the end, they decided it could stay. The kids got a scolding but not much of one. It was hard to be upset with the group that had just saved a bunch of lives, maybe even a whole town.
“Leave two of them in Tombstone to train some crews on the Bradley’s.” Cobb said. “I should have known they were up to no good.”
With all the TOW missiles they had in the trailers for the Tower, the one Bradley would be enough for now. Fort Lewis was only a few hundred miles north, once they had some men that knew how to operate it, they could use it to get more. It would take some serious planning to safely get onto the military bases, they were teeming with the undead. The fences kept them in and kept would be scavengers out. As far as anyone knew, Lakota was the first to have heavy armor. They needed to stop Casey and the Cult while they still had some small advantages. The Raiders and the Cult were both mobile armies, light infantry, their numbers impressive and they were on the move. The Lakota settlements were spread out, barely had enough people to keep things running and most of them weren’t warriors. They were trying to build, not destroy, and needed every little advantage.
Things were heating up; scattered reports were coming in about the Anubis Cult being on the move. An island town up in North Dakota had already been attacked by a handful of men that lead in hundreds of zombies and killed most of their militia. They were asking for help and weapons too and Cobb just didn’t have the resources. The Meadows kid had cleared it out and apparently he had met some warrior woman who was just as crazy as him. The leader of the town claimed the two of them had wiped out hundreds of the undead and survived an ambush by a group of super soldiers. Jessie said the town was run like a mini dictatorship and the Director was as flaky as Martha’s biscuits but they wouldn’t join with the cult, though.
The Movement had come in and tried to strong arm them, force them into submission. Jessie had convinced them to fight so that was a few hundred more people on their side. It was up to the boy to figure out how to get their defenses strong enough to withstand any assaults. Cobb no longer doubted the kid, no longer thought of him as a youngster who would probably wind up dead. He’d trained hard over the winter and he was smart. Cobb trusted him as much as any of his officers and he was certainly deadlier than any of the others. The kid would figure it out. He’d have to.
The truckers were up at dusk, in the roadhouse drinking coffee and getting ready to head out. Driving at night wasn’t the best option but they had enough lights on the rigs to turn the darkness into daylight. The place was overcrowded with people, it felt like everyone not pulling guard duty had squeezed in to check out the newest residents. They were dressed in new clothes and sparkling jewelry. Most of the shoes didn’t fit properly and they had shared the same few colors of makeup that had been availab
le. They all looked like princesses to the men gathered, most too shy to approach. They stared at each other across the room, the women unsure of the customs or what was expected of them and the brash cowboys suddenly bashful. These were future wives and you had to pick careful. Once a man chose, chances were he wouldn’t get a second chance to pick another, she’d already be spoken for and fists would fly if you moved in on another man’s gal. Sandy realized what was happening when she saw the men eyeballing the women like they would a heifer at an auction, weighing the pros and cons of each one.
They were probably right. If you started talking to the Asian girl but then decided you wanted to flirt up the Russian gal, it would most likely be too late. It was kind of ridiculous but it was true. This wasn’t the only chance they’d have, it wasn’t a damn cattle sale and the girls might not like whoever chose them. There would be single and available women after tonight but not very many. Any man that hit it off with one of the ladies certainly wouldn’t be giving her up easily. She knew all these men, had gotten to know them well in the past year, all of them confined behind the walls.
Jeramiah was quiet and shy, he needed a woman who spoke enough for both of them. May-Lin, the Chinese girl who helped braid hair and chattered nonstop would be a good match for him. She took her hand and lead her over, introduced them then went back to get Natalya. The Russian girl was big boned and had calloused hands, perfect for Hank, all 240 pounds of him and the fifty head of cattle he ran by himself.
Zombie Road: The Second Omnibus | Books 4-6 | Jessie+Scarlet Page 53
