The Rise of Macon: A Zombie Novel (Macon Saga Book 2)

by Micah Gurley

  Abe's introspective thoughts ended quickly, as one of the bikers stepped forward and shoved a knife through the diseased's remaining eye. The man made a comment, laughed and pushed the burnt young man off the knife. The biker's bravado vanished, as the rear of the trailer filled with diseased, who rounded the corner of the trailer in larger numbers.

  "Guess we're going to need to shoot them," said Patrick pulling out his sidearm.

  "Billy, how many did you see when you drove in?" asked Wes.

  "A few dozen in the woods surrounding the Fort, and they were all making their way towards us when I ran for the back of the truck."

  "Guns then," a deep voice said.

  Abe pulled back the slide for his Beretta, glanced inside to check for a round and stood like Kyle taught him so long ago. He took a breath and joined in as they started clearing the diseased away from the back of the trailer. Abe shoved down the revulsion as the killing started. The diseased pressed in on themselves, burnt, broken and bleeding hands reaching into the high back of the trailer. Point blank killing. Heads exploded and snapped back as the bullets easily found their marks and the diseased died.

  Five minutes later Abe jumped down from the four foot high trailer, trying to avoid the dozens of corpses on the ground. Rich landed beside him and slapped him on the arm, giving him a smile. Abe smiled back and gave a nod of the head. He didn't feel like talking. Patrick of all people started calling out directions and the group spread out to both sides, making sure their flanks were clear of any stragglers.

  "Okay, let's keep two people on both sides of the trailer, and get this stuff unloaded," Billy said, taking a look around. He looked up at the wall, squinted his eyes and found who he was looking for. "Eric, get this draw bridge down, we need to make this quick!"

  Abe watched as Eric yelled something down into the fort and the wooden draw bridge began descending slowly. Abe changed his magazine, thinking of Kyle's constant admonishments to keep a full magazine in his gun. He stood next to the draw bridge as it lowered, then took position in line, when it thumped to the ground.

  The unloading of the supplies went quick, the prospect of being caught in the open adding to their efficiency. A few people were sent to help Old Ben move the Peterbilt to a spot away from the fort and out of the way. Abe finally entered the fort, grateful to be back.

  ***

  Dave watched as the supplies were unloaded and moved into the fort. He was amazed at the simplicity and power of the old fort that stood before him. A perfect place to survive. He smiled as he looked around at the small group that had taken the fort for their own. This would be easier than he thought, he just needed to be smart about it.

  Not a problem.

  He knew he had to be careful around Wes and Rich, both of whom didn't fully trust him, both of whom were extremely dangerous, despite their good natured attitudes. Life in the Outlaws used to be perfect; a group that lived and acted upon their own laws. He'd committed acts of violence and brutality, things he relished, and had at one time been praised for them.

  That was then, but things changed. Wes used to embrace the life of the Outlaw, but the old man had changed with times and now lived as a mechanic.

  Pathetic.

  The biker gang had grown soft, more of a club for motorcycle enthusiasts than for those who craved freedom. The gang stayed within the law now, doing their civic duty and living within a weak society of woman. It disgusted him. He'd been thinking about leaving the group, founding his own, when the world changed his plans. Once again, he found himself in a world where he could thrive, where he could live the life men should, and he just found the perfect place to start.

  He walked across the narrow drawbridge, under the domed sally port and into the courtyard of the fort. People were walking, working and directing others to get everything unloaded. Dave had no plans to be their donkey. But he made sure his boys helped; they needed to be seen as helping, doing their share. It would make the surprise that much greater.

  He noticed a small group, part of those he'd traveled back with, and felt the eyes of one of them directed at him. It was the one who'd made the decision, with the older guy. Abe was his name, if he remembered correctly, and he usually did. The boy's eyes didn’t flinch and he felt the judgment he was being given. Rage flooded through him as the direct, challenging eyes bored in on him. He killed people for less. He gave a smile, one he knew the boy would recognize, and walked away. Tonight he would play nice, tomorrow he'd just play.

  ***

  The wind howled, making its way through the sparse trees surrounding the fort. The last rays of light from the weak sun disappeared, as it settled behind the horizon, leaving a reddish tent to the otherwise drab evening. Abe stood on the top of the wall, eyes searching for any sign of the Tahoe making its way back to the fort. He sighed and turned his head, scanning the surrounding countryside near the fort, wondering if Kyle and James could have made their way back through other means.

  Maybe something happened to the Tahoe and they had to take a boat? He didn't know and that was the problem. Not knowing was the worst. Kyle was a big boy and could take care of himself, and having James with him only made him more formidable. Anything could have happened for him not to be back tonight. He kept telling himself that, over and over. Anyways, nothing he could do about it and he gave a last look towards the road, which began disappearing in the darkness.

  "Any sign of him?" asked Rich as he made his way to stand beside Abe.

  "Not yet, but could be anything," said Abe, sounding as if he needed to convince someone else.

  "Sure," replied Rich.

  The two stood in silence.The wind picked up, driving the smell of burnt bodies away and bringing with it the familiar salty smell of the ocean.

  "Rich, I got to tell you, I don't like the look of Dave. What's the story there?"

  "Yeah, he's shifty. Been with us for a few years, but never really apart of us. We have our own code, but he's been walking the line for a while now. I'll keep an eye on him."

  "Yeah, thanks," Abe said. Bringing it up probably hadn't been a good idea, especially since he didn’t know the dynamics of their gang, but he'd needed to ask. He didn't think Kyle would look too favorably on having Dave around, but for that he needed to be back.

  "Let's go get some dinner, I haven't had a home cooked meal for a while and tonight should be good," said Rich as he looked down at the young guy beside him. Rich liked him and knew he was worried about his brother, this professor people talked about.

  "Lead the way," Abe replied, holding out his arm in a "you first" gesture.

  Rich laughed and walked towards the stairs.

  ***

  Dave woke early, the hard wooden floor in the room an insult to him. He should have been given a bed. Provincials.

  He washed his face, already planning the events of the day. He needed to talk to his two friends and then set things in motion. He didn't want their input, just their obedience. He didn't worry about them not following his directions, both were barely able to form words and were utterly ruthless. Brutes, but useful brutes.

  He walked across the parade ground and watched the morning routines unfold. Everyone seemed happy and content they'd made it back alive, without injuries and with friends to boot. He had to laugh at that one.

  The food they scavenged seemed to lift everyone's spirits and laughter rang out, creating a relaxed atmosphere within the fort. He'd change that soon, especially since he didn't want all of his food eaten. He needed to check out a few things before he set his plan in motion. Until then he'd continue to play the game of happy survivor.

  He walked into one of the rooms, across the courtyard from his, this one a workshop. Standing over a homemade work bench stood a short, but muscular, man who seemed part grizzly.

  The man heard the footsteps and turned. "Help you with something? You're one of the new guys aren't you?"

  Dave wanted to stick a blade in him for such simple questions. "That's right. Name's Da
ve. I hear you're the guy to talk to about building things around here."

  Eric looked up, looking Dave over. He wasn't impressed. "I am, name's Eric. What can I do for you?"

  "I've seen the swords everyone's carrying. I don’t have one myself, but a friend of mine did, and he used to practice with a large pole buried in the ground." He paused, showing excitement, as if he'd really discovered something to help. "I saw some pieces of wood laying just outside and thought I might help set up the same kind of thing here. Could help everyone become familiar with their swords."

  Eric leaned back against his workbench, rubbing his days old black beard, which had already grown faster than any beard had a right to. "I know what you're talking about and I haven't got a use for those four by fours yet, but it would destroy them. I might have something better."

  Dave nodded his head, gave a beaming smile and acting excited. "Oh Yeah?"

  Eric turned and walked through the cluttered room, stepping over tools and random pieces of metal. He stopped at a wood pile in the back. These two by fours should work just the same and they're not new. How's that?"

  "Yeah, that'd be great."

  "Good, need any help putting them in the ground?"

  "I'll get a few of my guys to do it, we need to start pulling our weight around here, if only until we leave."

  Eric gave an approving grunt and turned back to his workbench.

  Dave gritted his teeth at the dismissal, but kept his anger in check. "Hey, those wouldn't happen to be-"

  "Yep," responded Eric. "Not sure why,but the professor wanted eight of them made, and some of the boys found me the material I needed to finish them off."

  "I think the professor's a little mad if you ask me," came the high pitched voice of Edmund, stepping into the workshop. He gave Dave a smile and walked over to a pile of junk, plopped down and crossed his arms. "I mean, what does he think this is, the bloody middle ages?"

  "Nobody asked you lobster back, you keep your mouth civil, and I found out what bloody really means and I won't have it in here," warned Eric, waving a large saw at him.

  "Wasn't like I was hiding it, now was I?"

  "Get off that, "Eric said, ignoring the question, "and get to work or you'll be in the kitchen making lunch with Jasmine."

  Edmund jumped up, shrugged at Dave and started working next to Eric.

  Dave walked out without saying a word. He had what he needed, now to let the boys know how they were going to do this."

  ***

  Abe walked through the blanketed doorway of Patrick and Jasmine's room, and was surprised at the activity happening inside.

  "What's going on?" asked Abe, trying to look over the shoulders in front of him.

  "Hey man," replied Patrick with a big smile, "we got somebody on the radio!"

  "Really? That's great."

  "Yeah, whenever we run the generator, Jasmine plays around on the radio and this time someone answered. Patrick turned back around, clearly excited about the news. Abe understood, it was the first time they'd had contact with any type of organization in the outside world. They wanted help, they needed answers and this could bring all that. Abe hoped it would bring all that people wanted it to, but he also knew this could bring bad news. No way to know; except to wait and see.

  "Copy that Cherry Point," came Billy's voice on the other side of the crowd. Abe assumed Jasmine turned radio control over to Billy, whose specialty was communications. Good choice. "We'll keep in contact and wait to hear from you. Glad to hear there's someone else out there. Macon out."

  The conversation ended and the small crowd in the room gave a cheer of happiness. They were able to let go of the fear that they were the only ones left.

  "Wait until Kyle hears this," Patrick said, turning back around and slapping Abe on the arm. "Apparently, a lot of bases were overrun, but Cherry point, a marine base, is operational and is going to get back in touch with us tomorrow, same time."

  "Great," replied Abe,

  "Come on now man, Kyle's going to be fine," said Abe, putting his arm around Abe's shoulder.

  Abe smiled, he couldn't help it, Patrick's optimism was so infectious. "I know. Hey, did you change the color of your hair?"

  "Indeed, I did sir, the little ones asked why I quit changing it. So, when we went shopping, I grabbed some hair dye. Yellow isn't really my color you know, but I couldn't have the little ones thinking something was out of the ordinary."

  Abe had to laugh at that one, "Patrick, we're living in a Civil War fort and Zombies are roaming the earth."

  Patrick waved that off. "They don't care about that, they care about changes from me and Jasmine, and we're trying to act the same."

  "You're a good man."

  "Now you see why the women all want me."

  "What women?" Abe asked, chuckling. "Hey, another question. Did you know why Dave and his guys put all those two by fours in the ground?"

  Patrick gave him a funny look, then seemed to remember. "Oh yeah, something about using them for sword practice. Eric gave it the okay. Hey, Eric, what's up with the poles in the ground?"

  Eric walked up, his mouth full of a tobacco chew. "Yeah, Dave said he'd show people how to use their swords with them. The wood's mostly rotten anyways, so I let him have it. Didn't see why not. Why?"

  Abe just shook his head. "I just don't trust him is all, he's got a look, you know?

  "Yeah, he's someone to watch, but I think he's weak. He wouldn't start any trouble," Eric said, not paying too much attention to Abe's warning. "Anyways, it's about lunch time, let's go to the chow hall. Brunswick stew today!"

  Abe followed behind, everyone else speaking about the contact with Cherry Point and what it could mean. He was glad to hear it also, but something was bothering him and he couldn't let it go.

  Chapter 12

  The Brunswick stew was delicious and Abe pushed back from the wooden table, fuller than he'd been for a long time. The atmosphere had definitely been improved with the surplus and variety of food. He sat back, watching people eat and chat with friends, not showing a care in the world. The Walton style table held 20 people, all stuffing their faces happily at the moment. Abe discovered another two people had joined the Fort while they were shopping for food yesterday. He didn't know who they were, apparently Kyle had given the invite to whoever needed it and they were starting to come. Fort Macon was filling up.

  He frowned, his douche meter going off, when Dave walked through the oval opening into the chow hall. He was followed by his giant of a friend and another biker he hadn't talked to. They looked around the room, said something to themselves and split up. Abe watched carefully, noticing nobody else seemed to spot anything out of the ordinary. Dave walked closer to the end of the table, where Jasmine stood near the two large pots, both her little ones playing near her feet.

  Abe stood, although not sure why. He watched as the refrigerator sized biker walked behind Wes and Rich, slapping them both on the arms and giving a smile. The other biker stood near the entrance to the room, leaning against the wall, his eyes locked on Dave.

  Something was wrong.

  Abe started to walk around the back of the long table, when he caught Dave's eye. Dave gave a small nod, a curved mocking smile and then leaned over the pick up the Patrick's little girl and held her against his chest. The sound of a handgun being cocked rang out through the room, and all eyes turned toward Dave.

  "I can see I have everyone's attention. Good. It will make this easier. Let's start this off by saying, if anyone tries anything, I'll kill this girl first. Everyone understand?"

  Both of the standing bikers, Dave's followers, pulled out handguns and pointed them at the group.

  The crowd around the table sat in stunned silence. Jasmine, her mothering instincts taking over, desperately reached for her child, but stopped when Dave put the gun closer to the girl's head, looking directly at her. She stopped. She knew there was no give in this man. Frustration and rage coursed through her as tears filled her eyes. S
he slowly moved back towards Patrick, whose face had frozen in fear for his children.

  Growls and threats thundered from the table when Wes stood. "You Bastard! Why are you doing this?"

  Dave regarded the man as if a child, his eyes full of contempt when he addressed him. "Because you were too soft to do it. The old world is gone. In this world we have the power, but you've grown too weak to see that, too weak to do anything about it. I haven't. You're just like them now, sheep, and sheep won't survive in this world. This is my time, yours is over. Now sit"

  Wes, furious to the point of rigidity, seemed unable to grasp the reality of what was happening. He looked questioningly to Rich, then to Patrick and Jasmine, who only had eyes for their daughter. He sat down, defeated.

  "Now," continued Dave, "nobody has to be hurt, we're just having a change in regime. In order to do that successfully, some precautions need to be taken care of." He motioned to the biker near the entrance, who stepped forward and threw a large bundle of ropes on the table. "I want you to tie the hands of the person beside you. Please make sure it's tied properly, I'd hate for something to go wrong with children present."

  The tension around the table was palpable, as rage and helplessness swept through the small group. Hands tightened into fists, teeth clenched and muscles tensed, all waiting for an answer, a solution for this. No one stepped forward. No one knew what to do. They were all brave men and women, but none of them were leaders, none of them wanted to make a decision that would leave a little girl dead.

  So, they lowered their heads, sighed in defeat and grabbed the ropes places in front of them.

  "Now, the rest of you, tie someone else's hands," commanded Dave, not moving but plainly enjoying the victory. As the rest of the group's hands were tied, the big man moved around tying the last few, of which Abe was one. Abe was jerked back as the giant biker forced his hands together, tightly wove the rope around them, tied it off and gave an ape like laugh of pleasure.

  "Now, that wasn't too unpleasant was it?" Dave said, lowering the handgun and shoving it in pants. He turned to the smaller biker. "Take the kids out of here, back to their room."