The Zombie Plagues (Books 1-6): Dead Road

by Geo Dell

  Mike glanced over quickly. “Dash?” he asked. He didn't wait for an answer. “Sorry, Man.” As he spoke he picked up his machine pistol from the floorboards where it had come to rest, thumbed off the safety and raised it above the dashboard. His eyes scanned the road.

  Below them, a truck was parked blocking both lanes of the road. Two other vehicles were parked off to one side. A half dozen people were off the side of the roadway in the field that ran beside the highway, gathered around a horse that was down.

  Mike's eyes took in the rest of it: The skid marks from the truck. The crumpled front end, hood and roof line. The reddish-black smear on the road. An accident, his mind supplied.

  “Looks like an accident,” Ronnie said. His voice was nasally and he was searching the front of the cab for something to hold against the flow of blood, which was coming faster now. Mike looked over. “Christ,” he said, “I had no idea...” He ripped off the bottom of the flannel shirt he wore and passed it to Ronnie. “Sorry, Ronnie... Really,” he told him.

  “Ouch... Goddamn,” he said, as he pressed the rag tight enough to his nose to stop the flow.

  “Tilt your head back,” Mike told him.

  “What's Going on?” Bears deep, bass voice over the radio.

  “We don’t know yet. It looks like an accident,” Mike told him as he took the radio mic. from Ronnie. “It looks like a truck hit a horse.”

  Three from the crowd around the horse, two women and a man, turned away as Mike watched and began to walk back out to the highway. Another woman, one of the three still surrounding the horse, pulled her pistol from a side holster, thumbed off the safety, Mike knew, although she was too far away to actually see it, the motion told him that was what she had done: She aimed the pistol and shot the horse in the head. The horse's head jerked, but that was all. She turned and looked at the truck where Mike and Ronnie sat. A small woman, dark skinned. Blood ran down the side of her face from a cut above one eyebrow.

  The three who had come back onto the highway stood staring at the truck as Mike turned his eyes back to the roadway.

  “That was a gunshot... Speak to me,” Bears voice said calmly.

  “Yes,” Mike agreed. “They shot the horse they hit... Stay where you're at... I really don't know what's going on over here.”

  One of the women that had stepped out onto the highway called out.

  “We hit that horse... You're freaking me out just a little, sitting there and not saying anything... There are more of us than you, if we wanted to hurt you we could. We obviously don't have any intentions like that.” Her pistol was out of her holster and she was holding it to one side, Mike noticed.

  The woman back with the horses had not put her pistol away. The other two on the road were holding rifles.

  “Hunting rifles,” Ronnie said as he tilted his head a little more forward to see better. Mike nodded. The other two by the horse were not holding weapons at all. They were both older... A man and a woman.

  Mike looked at Ronnie. “What do you think?”

  “Un-break my frigging nose, is what I think.” He looked out the windshield. “I say, just to be safe... Let them know we're not alone,” he said after a long pause. He met Mike's eyes. Mike nodded.

  “Bear... Tim, everybody else get behind Bear... Get your machine pistols, if you haven't already, and walk to the top of the hill. Keep them pointed at the ground, but be ready... We'll be waiting on you,” Mike told them.

  They knew without looking when the others had crested the hill. The machine pistols were nasty looking weapons. Compared to the simple hunting rifles that this group carried, that alone would probably have been enough to shake them, but Mike was sure that just the size of Bear silhouetted against the sky at the top of the small hill added its own edge to the mix. Now they knew that they were not alone, that they did not outnumber them. Mike and Ronnie levered their door handles and stepped out onto the roadway. “Got your back,” Bear said in his deep bass rumble from behind them.

  Mike turned to the people in front of him. “We're not looking for trouble,” he told them.

  The woman by the horse snorted derisively. “With all that firepower?” she asked. She walked the low rise back up to the highway from the field and then walked past the others towards Mike and Ronnie.

  “Jess,” one of the others in her group called to her.

  “It's okay,” she said as she continued on. She stopped in front of Ronnie. She was even smaller in person; dark, flat features that he found hard to place. Asian? Native American? She nodded at his dripping nose. “Did that trying to stop,” she asked Ronnie.

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “It's broken, you know... Pushed over to the right... I mean your right... I'm a doctor.... Well, I used to be a doctor anyway. Let me fix it... It's the least I can do.” She looked around. No one spoke for a second.

  “Well?” she asked. “It's a push. Believe me. We don't want problems. We are not looking for trouble either.” She holstered her gun and folded her arms across her thin chest.

  “Alright,” Mike agreed. “But you should know this isn't all of us.” He turned and looked back at the hill. “There are ten more behind them, and I'd like to get them all on this side of the hill.”

  “We'll have to push that truck. It's done up.”

  Mike turned to Bear and the others. “Tell them what's going on... Tell them we'll be a few more minutes.” He made eye contact with Bear, Chloe and Josh, then finished with Tim. Making it clear he wanted only Tim to go. “You guys come on down. Help push this truck out of the way.” He turned towards the front directing the question at the other group.

  “You are not making this easy,” the woman called Jess told him.

  Mike nodded. “We've been through some bad stuff... I suppose you have to. I had thought at one time that all the being careful stuff was over with... Then the dead came along... And the living too. I'm not as trusting as I used to be... I can't see myself apologizing for that either,” he finished.

  She nodded. “Okay... We'll do it your way... Let's get this truck off the road.”

  One of the women got in and steered as they pushed the truck to the side of the road.

  Blood was smeared across the outside of the windshield. Ronnie walked alongside and kicked at the drivers side tire which seemed to have a mind of its own, to keep it pointed in the same direction as the others. Something made a loud, grinding, clicking sound in the front end as they pushed. Something else made a metallic clanking noise. Fluids leaked onto the roadway.

  “You know, you got a bad cut yourself,” Mike said. He pointed to her forehead.

  She frowned, touched the spot Mike had pointed out and then looked at the blood on her fingertips. “Damn,” she said. “I didn't know.”

  He came closer, and carefully looked her over. “Pretty deep... About two inches long.” He shifted his gaze to the radio on his belt, picked it up and spoke. “Bring them over, Tim.”

  Chloe and Debbie went back along with Josh. Bear stayed behind, jumping into Mike and Ronnie's truck and pulling it down off the roadway, over to the side of the cracked pavement.

  The Nation

  The sky was a beautiful mix of yellows and pinks as Lilly and Candace stood on the ledge looking down into the valley. A hot supper was ready in the cave behind them. The children were helping Janet get bowls, cups and utensils ready. Down the valley the rest of the people were on their way back, walking in groups, laughter and conversation rising on the air currents to the ledge.

  The horses had been put away. The wagon, loaded with corn now, was parked inside one of the barns. It only remained to bring it from there up into the storage area of the cave. They would do that tomorrow.

  The entire crop was picked: Half already in the storage area, the rest waiting on the wagon.

  Jan walked up behind them. “We would never have finished it today if not for the longer days. We had close to seventeen hours of daylight today,” she told them.

 
“You know,” Lilly said, “It doesn't seem as though it took any great effort to get used to it... a few more hours every day, I mean.”

  “It doesn't, but I wonder what it means long term? What this winter will be like, and the rest of it,” Candace said, half to herself.

  The Dog and Angel looked off down the valley from the top of the ledge, wagged their tails, and took off running to the people who were coming to the cave. Angel was showing more and more, her belly getting closer to the ground daily.

  “I wonder what those puppies are going to look like,” Lilly said aloud.

  “I was just going to say that very same thing,” Candace said and laughed.

  “I would think they would look like very big wolves. Once they grow up I bet those wolves that have been coming around will want to find themselves another valley to bother,” Janet said.

  Patty reached the bottom of the ledge first. She held up a pair of booties, perfectly made. Candace and Lilly held up their own pairs, grinning and laughing as they did.

  Dinner was baked potatoes with a rich fish gravy. Thick slices of the sourdough bread and butter to go with it; now that they had bread again, no one could seem to get enough of it. A large platter of cheese, and blueberries with cream, rounded out the meal.

  “Did we ever eat this well on a regular basis in the old world,” Candace asked.

  “I certainly never did,” Janet answered.

  “I think the things we eat now were frowned upon in the old world... Real butter... Cheese all the time. Whole milk,” Patty threw in.

  “I was afraid to,” Roberta added. “You know, moment on the lips, lifetime on the hips, but we burn more calories now than we ever did. So it's not the problem it used to be.”

  Bob patted his flat stomach. “I can't recall the last time I was in this kind of shape. It's good for us.”

  “I'll say,” Shar said. “We're busy all the time. I tried Sandy's scales the other day, just curious. I've dropped thirty pounds. Then I looked at myself and realized it could be true. That made me look in the mirror and I realized it was true. I don't look anything like I did in the old world at all,” she finished with a laugh.

  Craig and Cindy sat next to each other. Seeing the two of them together caused Candace to think about Mike.

  Patty took Candace's hand. “Don't do it to yourself, Candy. They'll be back before you know it.” She patted her hand, squeezed it, and then placed it on her stomach.

  “Holy God. That kid is kicking the crap out of you. And, thank you, Little-miss-mind-reader.” She left her hand on Patty's stomach. The kid really was kicking up a storm.

  “Any time,” Patty said. “Any time.”

  “Can I feel?” Craig asked.

  Patty nodded and he placed one of his larger hands next to Candace's. “Wow...” His face twisted in shocked surprise, causing both Patty and Candace to laugh. “Doesn't that hurt?” he asked.

  Patty giggled. “Not really. Just feels funny. Now when the kid gives me a shot to the kidneys? Yow!”

  All three of them laughed. Craig sat back, looked at Cindy, then put his arm around her and drew her near. “This is pretty good,” he said quietly.

  “It is,” Cindy agreed.

  “Okay, corny, but don't you think this is the way we were supposed to live,” Candace asked.

  Several heads nodded.

  “And,” she continued, “look how different we are.”

  “It's the circumstances, though. We're bound to change,” Bonnie said. She had pale skin and freckles and looked sixteen instead of twenty-two. Her auburn hair framed her face. Her eyelashes were nearly blonde, Candace noticed.

  “It is,” Candace agreed. “But other stuff, like: Who here used to smoke? Drink? A little recreational pot or cocaine? Little vices. I'm not talking about the heavy use, I'm talking about the things that were in the world, in our lives. Maybe doughnuts, too much coffee... Everybody had something I think.”

  Several heads nodded.

  “Who still does those things? That one thing, whatever it was?” No one spoke. Candace laughed. “By the time I had time to think about smoking again I didn't want it.”

  “We were in this store, gathering stuff we needed, and there was this huge metal cabinet, you know some sort or steel mesh on the front so you could see into it, full of cigarettes, and I thought, 'I should get some now before I forget.' and then I thought, 'What the hell for?' I just walked away,” she laughed.

  “I used to go out drinking on the weekends... Something to kill the loneliness,” Patty said. “I didn't even think of it after everything happened... At all. I didn't need it anymore. I haven't had any since... I mean, it's not here. If we wanted it we could have brought some in with us, yet none of us did.”

  Candace nodded. Bob spoke.

  “I liked my beer. Cigars. A good football game. They're just not on my list of priorities any longer.” He looked around.

  Heads nodded around the room. Some he knew, some so new he didn't yet know their names. They would have to do something about that soon. They should know how many they were. What skills they had. He smiled.

  Somebody, one of the newcomers, mentioned a television show they used to watch, and that got everyone talking about television shows and movies from the old world. That conversation lead to music and bands they had liked. The conversation went back and forth as they ate, taking on a life of its own, and when dinner was finished people broke up into groups to pass the evening.

  Lilly, Tom, Cindy and Craig were talking back and forth about the stone houses. How hard they were to build, and whether Tom thought there would be enough time to build a few more before winter set in.

  Sandy, Susan and Roberta were talking about medicine and nursing. Shar joined in and asked as many questions about medicine as she was asked about Veterinary sciences.

  Candace, Patty, Janet, Arlene and a few others were working on crocheting. Practicing different stitches that Janet had shown them.

  David, Bonny and Bob were talking about farming. How the valley was laid out. The two fields up top. The idea Cindy had about flooding a low lying area in the second valley and making what amounted to a large pond so they could have their own fish supply.

  Bonny told them the valley reminded her of Ireland and told them how it had looked to her when she had gone to visit her grandparents with her mother a few years before.

  The children were being supervised by everyone as the adults talked; some joining in this conversation, some in another.

  As the sun finally left the sky, Tom begged his leave, and left to take up the first watch.

  On The Road

  Ronnie swore for more than ten minutes after Jess had straightened and then taped up his nose. “I can't breathe through it,” he said. Sounding as though he had the worst kind of cold. He kept spitting blood onto the cracked pavement.

  “You will,” Jess told him. She handed him two aspirins. “Call me in the morning,” she joked.

  Steve Choi, who had been in his second year of medical residency, disinfected Jess's cut and then sunk two stitches in to close the gash. She grimaced but that was all.

  Mike whispered in Ronnie’s ear. “And you cried like a little girl,” he teased.

  “She's a doctor,” Ronnie complained.

  “And that makes a difference?” Jess asked as she walked up.

  “Well... You know what's coming, right?” Ronnie asked.

  “Yeah, a needle in my head with no Novocain,” Jess said straight faced.

  “Girl,” Mike repeated quietly. “Little girl.”

  Ronnie laughed. “Just wait until Patty sees what you did to my nose.”

  “It will give you some character,” Jess joked.

  “A nice little bend,” Mike said, pretending to look Ronnie's nose over.

  “Now you are impugning my work,” Jess laughed. She stretched to her tiptoes and pretended to examine Ronnie's nose. “I could put a bend or two in there though,” She joked.

  One by o
ne the others introduced each other.

  The older couple was Peter and Melanie Kant. They were in their late fifties. They had been show dog breeders.

  Jess was Jessie Stone. She was Native American and African American. Just shy of forty, she said.

  The other man was John Steele. A slightly built, pale man who looked as though he had never spent much time in the sun. He had been into stocks and bonds, he said. His English accent said he had not been in the states for long. “Five years,” he told Chloe with a laugh, when she told him how much she liked the sound of his voice. “Came from Hunstanton to holiday and stayed.”

  Violet Hodecki was Japanese and had worked as a website designer. She was in her late twenties.

  Pamela Glasse was twenty-two and had the rosy cheeked good looks of a mid-western farm girl. She had been in college working towards a degree in accounting.

  The group was heading towards the middle of the country, somewhere around Kansas or Nebraska, they said, and they invited them to come along with them.

  “Everything we hear on the radios says there are no dead there. They tend to stay in the bigger cities anyhow,” Steve Choi said.

  Bear shook his head. “Maybe, but don't believe that only-in-the-big-cities talk.”

  Mike talked about The Nation and how it had been working. The houses. The crops. The animals: Candace and the baby.

  “I can see in your eyes how much it means to you and your Candace,” Jess told him. “I hope for the same thing in Kansas, or Nebraska. It's encouraging hearing how well your Nation is working.” She looked over at Bear. “I want you to tell me about what you have seen... Know... More than we have, I would guess. What do you know that we don't. That is what I need to know if you will share it,” she told him.

  “Glad to,” Bear said. His bass voice rumbled out. Jess went over and sat next to him as they talked. The contrast was stark, Mike thought. Like a picture he had once seen of a tiny kitten sitting and looking up at a huge Great Dane that towered over it. But from what he had seen of Jess she was no timid kitten.

  By the time everyone was patched up it was late afternoon.

  “I'm going to need a new vehicle,” Jess said, looking at her own vehicle where it sat leaking fluids at the side of the road.