Apocalyptic Fears II: Select Bestsellers: A Multi-Author Box Set

by Greg Dragon

  A breakdown, or a vehicle that got stuck, would keep the rest from making it all the way to the camp, and leave valuable material sitting around like a beacon. So she went as slow as she could and watched for pot holes in the glare of her headlights.

  Ted was dozing, leaning against the window, when the van bounced and threw him away, only to land back in place and bump his head. He woke with a gasp, and looked around sleepily.

  “Dara, are we home yet?”

  “No, sweetie. We’re almost at the camp. Remember what I said about staying there for a while?”

  Ted looked confused in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, but Dara didn’t have time to comfort and reassure him. He’d had to wait like everybody else, though it wouldn’t be long now. George and Micah had gone up ahead, to check things out and report back if there were any problems. She’d given him the key to the gate that still barred the entrance into the old camp so he could take a look around.

  When she was the single headlamp heading back down the road towards her, Dara eased to a stop and rolled down her window. The bike pulled up close, and she could see it was Micah.

  “Any problems?”

  He shook his head. “Everything looks fine. George has the gate open, and he’s taking another look around. As far as we can tell, no one’s been up here since the last time you and Ted came up, so I guess we’re good to go.

  “I’ve dropped some glow sticks on each side of the road, so there shouldn’t be any problems seeing where the edge is.”

  Dara grinned at the young man, who in truth was just not much younger than she was. “Good idea. It gets awfully dark when there aren’t a ton of streetlights and buildings lit up.”

  Micah gave her a grin and a nod, and headed back down the line of vehicles to pass on his tip about the glow sticks. Dara put the van back in gear, and began moving upwards, to the camp.

  She was tired and weary, longing for a bed to collapse on. But for the night, she’d have to settle for a cot and whatever she could scrounge up for herself and Ted.

  Tomorrow was plenty of time to begin the huge task of building a community.

  * * *

  George was waiting by the gate, having pulled it completely open now that the others were coming. He’d built a couple of fires so people could see where to park, so that everyone would be behind the gate and the small extra margin of safety it offered. Determined invaders wouldn’t be slowed down much by the gate, but he hoped it would be enough to warn them something was coming.

  When Dara and Ted’s old moving van appeared, George grinned and waved it on. He knew the couple was near exhaustion, as were nearly everyone who’d begun this journey. His own people had been traveling for a couple of days longer than the four they’d met up with, and they were nearly as worn out. But they’d had the benefit of having relief drivers so they could make more miles every day.

  But all that was behind them, the big biker reminded himself. They’d arrived safely at the camp, and there hadn’t been any need to remove squatters. No one had been lost on the journey, despite having run-ins with masses of the infected.

  All in all, he felt pretty damn good about how things had turned out. He was sad about leaving his old life behind, and deeply missed the biker club’s real leader. He hoped that Joey and his family showed up within the next few days, and that they were all safe. His main worry now was getting Clarice settled in, and maybe finding a way to get more insulin for her.

  George pulled the gate back across the road and made sure it was locked up tight. Then he made his way up to the hunting camp proper, picking up dying glow sticks as he went. If everything had gone right, the various trucks, campers and RVs would be sorted out, and there might even be a bite to eat before he crashed for what he hoped was a long, restful sleep.

  * * *

  When the new day dawned, a bright late-summer sun began to warm the cool night air. People began to rise and move about, getting their things unpacked so they could do a proper breakfast to celebrate reaching their new home.

  Janet stood by the tailgate of Connor’s pickup, eyes closed and head tipped back as she let the sunlight warm her cheeks. Sleeping in the tent hadn’t been very restful, with the night being so much colder than when they’d been at a lower elevation.

  She had gone without the stingy comfort of Connor’s warmth, because he’d curled up in his sleeping bag and turned his back on her with a grunt. It surprised her, because she’d been expecting to endure a few punches and a furious sexual encounter which would leave her aching and unsatisfied, as was their usual routine.

  Instead, she’d gotten the cold shoulder, and had spent the night wrapped in a thin blanket, pressed up against the wall of their cheap tent. Despite the chill, she’d had the most restful sleep she could remember.

  Janet’s stomach began to rumble, and the thought of a big, hot breakfast spurred her to finally undo the last of the straps holding the tarp down. There was a cooler at the back that was full of everything she would need for the first true meal of their new life.

  When she pulled it out and set it on the ground, Janet turned to get the other bin she would need. A noise behind her made Janet whip around. Her heart started pounding, and her stomach lurched.

  Micah was just a couple of feet away, hair still tousled from sleep, smiling. “Need any help?”

  Janet didn’t know what to say. A helping hand would be appreciated, but she knew what the consequences would be for a momentary ease in her workload. It wouldn’t be worth it, for her or for Micah.

  So she shook her head and gave him a quick smile. “Thanks, but I’ve got it. Connor will be up soon, and he’ll want something to eat. So I need to get on that,” she finished awkwardly.

  It was hard to pull her eyes from his, to ignore the interest and concern he showed every time he looked at her, but she had to do it. Things had to keep going the way they’d done for years, until she could find a solution, a way to get out from under Connor’s thumb for good.

  She could see Micah nod, the smile fading as he turned away. Janet was sorry if he was hurt, but crossing Connor would get him a lot more hurt, or more likely, dead. She suspected there were a couple of bodies that Connor had left behind him in one of his jealous rages, but there was no way to prove it. And even if she had evidence, the day for running to the law was long past now.

  No, whatever happened, she would have to deal with it on her own. She would have to have a plan, something that wouldn’t let Connor come back at her. Just how she’d manage that, Janet didn’t know. All she really knew, deep in her gut, was that it had to happen. The sooner the better, too.

  While Janet pulled out a camp stove and settled it onto the truck’s tailgate, she thought about possible plans. It kept her occupied and thinking of something other than handsome, kind Micah. She primed the propane bottle and lit the flame, setting a frying pan on one of the double burners. While it heated up, she turned to the cooler, which contained a supple of food packed in ice.

  She pulled out butter, eggs and bacon, a jug of milk and a smaller one of orange juice. There was a loaf of the gooey white bread that Connor preferred, and seeing that reminded her that one of her greatest joys in getting rid of her abusive boyfriend would be dumping every bit of that nasty stuff. She didn’t care if she starved without it.

  Somewhere in the collection of bins were a few bags of freeze-dried coffee. Janet had no idea where, though, and she didn’t have time to look. The frying pan was heated now, so she cut some butter and put it in to melt. Hopefully, Connor wouldn’t want coffee this morning.

  Janet used the other stove burner to toast some of the bread, which she spread with butter and grape jelly. She laid that out on a plate, and began to fry up some bacon. When that was done, she turned to the eggs, which she carefully cracked over the bacon drippings and left to fry up.

  By the time the food was ready, Connor ducked out of the tent. He gave the breakfast Janet had placed on a plate and set beside the camp stove, gru
nting before going off towards the woods for his ritual morning piss.

  He returned in time to take the second plate from her, freshly cooked and still hot. He sat in a camp chair they’d set up the night before, and looked around.

  “What, no coffee?” He frowned as she shook her head.

  “Sorry, it’s packed up somewhere, and I can’t remember which bin it’s in.”

  Connor snorted. “Too lazy to look for it? Jesus, why ain’t I surprised?”

  Janet bit her lip and waited for him to throw a tantrum over the lack of coffee to go with his breakfast, but he just settled back and began to wolf it down, shoving eggs, bacon and toast in his mouth as fast as he could chew.

  Janet placed a glass of juice and one of milk in the cup holders on either arm of his chair, and turned away to get her own meal. She settled into another chair, and ate, her mind wandering.

  Her thoughts centered on what it would be like to cook what she liked to eat, when she wanted it. What it would be like to eat in peace, and not wonder what she would do wrong that would get her a beating.

  There had been a time when she did that, she remembered. When she was happy and in charge of her own life. The memories fled back, warming her heart and making her sad at the same time. She’d never thought she could feel that way again, had never thought she’d find a way out of this life with Connor.

  But as she chewed on the last piece of bacon, it was all she could do not to smile.

  Soon, her heart sang. Soon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  In the weeks that followed their arrival at the hunting camp, Dara and George had done a remarkable job of getting people enthused about the new living conditions. Plans were made to repair as many of the old cabins as possible, and to re-purpose what materials they could from those too far gone to fix.

  As it turned out, two of George’s group had done construction, and they busied themselves inspecting things and making lists, drawing their ideas on paper that Clarice had brought with her.

  After the best of the cabins were repaired to a point people could live comfortably in them, those who had been living in tents were assigned one of their own. Janet and Connor got the one next to the main administration building, which Dara had refurbished for herself and Ted. Connor had grumbled about living next to his most hated minority, but the comfort and warmth of the cabin had won him over.

  The campers and RVs had been slotted in between the cabins and in other open areas, with everyone having enough space for a minimal amount of privacy. It wasn’t ideal, but considering how things could have been, nobody complained, or at least not where George and Dara could hear it.

  The biggest project that needed to be taken on was the old picnic pavilion that stood, somewhat shakily, across from Dara and Ted’s place. John and Emilio, the group’s carpenters, wanted to turn it into an enclosed space where people could gather. It would be a communal cooking and dining hall for the most part, but there were unlimited uses, as the two argued when they proposed the plan.

  The project was the subject of a long meeting, with everyone talking about how much work it would be, but also about how great it would be to have a kitchen area so the women would have an easier time getting meals together. A couple of the men chimed in agreeing with this, because they loved to cook and a small fire or camp stove just didn’t work for them.

  Another suggestion was to use the area as a school, and also to hold church services for those who desired the fellowship. One of the biker club’s members had become a minister online, and studied Scripture as a hobby. He was unanimously chosen to lead the potential church.

  George ended all the discussion after nearly an hour.

  “It seems like this new project has met with the approval of everyone here, so let’s agree to see it built. I think it will be a great addition to our little community.

  “John and Emilio have already given me a list of things we’ll need to finish the project, which means we’re going to have to go out on a supply run.”

  Hands began to up, but George waved them down.

  “I’ll take names at the end of the meeting. I know it might be dangerous, since we don’t know what we’ll face down the mountain, but I think it will also be a good idea to look for other things. Dara and I have been discussing that, and talking with all of you over the past week. We’ve got a pretty long list of stuff we’ll try to get over the next days and weeks, until we get snowed in for the winter.

  The big man paused to take a long drink of water, collected from a spring just beyond the ring of campers. It was sweet and cold, as pure as water could get. George appreciated every drop of water from that spring, because it saved him and the others from having to haul it from the next closest source, a stream nearly a mile away.

  “The only other thing I wanted to say was how much Dara and I appreciate having you all trust us to get this community set up. Our next step is to start thinking about forming a communal governing body. I think we can hold off on that until we’ve made all the supply runs we can, though. If the group agrees.”

  Heads nodded and voices rose to approve the suggestion, and Dara let out a sigh of relief from where she stood beside him. Like him, Dara didn’t relish being in charge, but she knew the process of getting a representative government was going to take a while, and they both knew other concerns had to come first.

  Having the community agree with them made things easier. He just hoped people would be reluctant to take positions in that government when the time came.

  George looked out over the assemblage. They were a good group, with a notable exception or two, so he didn’t really think it was going to be a problem. And if it was, they’d deal with it when the time came.

  “Okay, that’s all we have. Those interested in going on the supply run, stop by and talk with me after the others have gotten back to whatever it is that needs doing around here.”

  The sound of laughter and happy chatter filled the air as almost everyone left to do as George suggested.

  * * *

  When Connor had volunteered them for the supply run, Janet’s stomach had felt like it was sinking and trying to hide behind her bowels. It was the strangest feeling, and it left her weak and afraid. Somehow, she knew he was going to try something. What, she couldn’t imagine. All she knew was it wouldn’t be good for her.

  Now as they stood listening to George explain how the run was going to go, and splitting the volunteers into teams, Janet could only stand mutely while the big biker’s voice drifted away on the breeze.

  They were just outside the town that the group had only recently traveled through. The smoke from the burning buildings had disappeared, thought the air still held an odor of burnt wood and plastic. Only a couple of other women had come along, mostly to support their man with loaded weapons, in case the infected became a problem.

  George had set everybody else into teams of three or four, each with a list of food, medicine, building supplies or other necessary items they hoped to find in what remained of the town. As he’d explained it, they would get what they could on this trip, and in a few days they would go further out, in hopes of finding a larger town or small city that would be safe to scavenge through.

  She, George, Connor and Micah were the only ones left, and they had yet to learn what their tasks were. When Connor saw that he’d be in the same group as Micah, he had started muttering. Finally George had had enough, and he interrupted the background noise.

  “Connor, is there a problem?” His voice was level, without any anger or aggression. It made no difference. Connor jumped at the older man.

  “Yeah. I’m not hanging around with this guy,” he said, thrusting a thumb at Micah. “I don’t like the way he’s been looking at my woman, and I’m not letting him be anywhere nearer to her than where we’re standing right here.”

  Connor pushed his face forward, frowning, shoulders hunched. Janet knew he was testing George’s authority, and she feared the biker would snap. Instea
d, George just leaned back, and smiled.

  “I see. Well, in that case, why don’t you and your—woman— take that corner drugstore? There doesn’t seem to be many, if any, infected inside, so the two of you should be able to handle it. If you run into any trouble, just call out on the walkie, and someone will come running.”

  Connor took the offered little radio and thrust it in his back pocket. He looked sullen, and Janet knew he’d wanted a fight. It was a good thing George was so easy going, or there might have been a shoot out right on the street. Not only would that tear the fragile peace between the three men, but it would alert the zombies to their presence.

  So far, their arrival in town hadn’t caught the interest of more than three or four undead, who had been taken out quietly by some of the other men before they left on their own errands.

  Janet didn’t dare look at Micah or even George for more than a minute, but she hoped they understood her silence. It wouldn’t be a good idea to say anything to Connor, especially since he’d worked himself up into an ill mood ever since breakfast.

  It had started with the bitter taste of his coffee and escalated into how bad the orange juice was, the lack of fresh milk and the toast being a little burnt. Every chance he got, he would pinch or slap her, usually on the ass, and she jumped whenever he was near her. That just made him laugh, and the next time he would do it harder.

  By the time George had called the meeting, just before lunch, Janet was exhausted and stressed out from trying to find any excuse she could to be away from Connor.

  She hadn’t been happy at all to hear him walk up to the biker leader and put their name on the list for the supply run. The last thing she wanted to do was be out there with Connor, exposed to who knew what sort of dangers on top of the fear about what he was cooking up in his devious mind.

  Janet tried to get out of it, pleading tiredness, work, even going so far as to use her monthly flow. She told him it could be dangerous for them, if the infected could smell it.