by Jake Bible
“Two more,” Diaz says, nodding past Cole.
“Right back at ya,” Cole says, nodding himself.
It’s Diaz’s turn to turn around and he sighs as four Zs shamble towards him. Or three shamble towards him. One begins to move quicker than the others until it is lumbering at an alarmingly fast gait. Then the gait turns to a brisk walk. From there it starts to become a slow sprint.
“What the fuck?” Diaz mutters as he braces for the attack.
The faster Z reaches for him and Diaz steps to the side, holding out a boot so the thing trips and falls right on its face. Before it can push up, Diaz silences it with a piercing shot to the base of the skull. With the first threat managed, Diaz whips about and takes the fight to the other Zs. He makes short work of them, breaking a few bones before ending the Zs’ undead lives.
“Second group coming,” Alastair announces as he cracks open one then a second skull with his baton. Putrid brains spill out of the broken heads, filling the air with a stench that makes him nearly gag. “Jesus. You’d think they’d stop smelling after a while.”
“Zs stink,” Sister says. She kills three more Zs and glances at Alastair. “Duh.”
“Yeah. Duh,” Tiny D says as she lifts up a struggling Z and throws it into the second group of undead that wade through the grasses to get to the living. “Zs stink.”
Val has moved off away from the Team, her eyes drawn to a shadow in the morning light at the edge of the golf course.
“Val? What the fuck?” Cole asks. “Head in the game, Mate!”
“Company,” Val says, pointing with her baton at the shadow.
“Can you identify?” Cole asks.
He slams his fist into a Z’s face, crushing half the thing’s cheek, shakes off the goo that coats his glove then grabs it by the back of the head and brings up his knee, slamming both together in a spray of bone and grey matter. Not that the brains are grey anymore. More a brownish black.
“Human,” Val says. “Just watching us.”
“Code Monkey,” Alastair says. He moves at the second group with Tiny D and gets to work on those Zs. “They found us.”
“Not a Code Monkey,” Sister says as she stabs two Zs through the skulls with one blow. She yanks the blade free and whips it down, cleaning the hunks of gunk off with a flick of her wrist. “Canny.”
“A what?” Cole and Val ask at the same time.
“No way,” Cole says. “We haven’t seen cannies around here for years. They gave up a long time ago.”
“Cannies never give up,” Sister says. “You’re an idiot if you think they do.”
“Then where the hell have they been?” Val asks.
She kicks a Z back, giving her space to shove the baton through its temple. The thing dangles from the end of her baton for a second until she pulls it free and lets the corpse fall on top of the others that surround her feet.
“Not much out there for them to eat,” Cole says.
“Plenty to eat if you know where to look,” Sister says. She wipes the blade on her sleeve and smiles at DTA. “Cannies always know where to look.”
Cole and Val exchange a glance then kill the last Zs in front of them.
“You guys about done?” Cole asks, looking at Tiny D, Diaz, and Alastair as they finish off the second group.
“Gone,” Val says. “Whoever it was took off.”
“That’ll be a problem,” Sister says. “Going to go find other cannies and try to ambush us before we get to Denver.”
“Or it saw how badass we are and decided to fuck off,” Diaz says. He wipes the baton on his pants leg and collapses it, tucking the weapon into a pouch on his belt before grabbing up his M-4. “We’re one scary set of motherfuckers, ya know. I’d run off too.”
“Didn’t run off,” Sister says. She takes a deep breath and winces, looking down at her side. There’s a wet stain there, but it’s small. Nowhere near as bad as it should be considering the exertion she just put on it. “Cannies don’t run. Cannies hunt. Their food runs.”
“Then I guess we aren’t their food,” Alastair says, bringing his own M-4 around and ready. “Because DTA doesn’t run.”
“DTA doesn’t shut up either,” Cole says. “Keep moving, same formation. We have a lot of hiking to do before we hit the first outpost.”
“You’re feeling a lot better,” Val says to Sister. “I don’t know how, but you are.”
“Not really,” Sister replies. She rubs at her side. “I just know how to fake it and keep going.”
“Then get ready to fake it hard because we are burning daylight,” Cole says. “Move the fuck out!”
Everyone nods, even Sister, and they double time their march across the old golf course, ignoring the groups of Zs that are just now giving chase, but far enough off not to be a threat.
***
The golf course ends at a crumbling old building. The remains of rusted golf clubs litter the area around the building as if someone had come along one day and decided to just toss them around for no reason. The husks of broken down white vans line a cracked parking lot with the husks of various cars and trucks in a lot next to it. DTA doesn’t even glance at the remnants of the old world, their focus on the road ahead that is nearly choked out of existence by scraggly pines.
They get to the end of the road where it intersects with one that is almost just as clogged with pines. Alastair kicks a stray pine cone out of the way and it bounces off a tree trunk, ricocheting into Tiny D’s shoulder.
“Two points,” Alastair says.
“Oh, we playing that game?” Tiny D asks as they make their way across the new road. “Because I’ll win. You know I have mad skills when it comes to—”
“Quiet,” Cole orders. His voice has a finality to it that shuts Tiny D up instantly.
“What’s up, TL?” Diaz asks.
“Show respect,” Cole says and nods to a clearing a few yards away.
They follow his gaze and all nod along with him.
“Everyone counts,” Cole says.
“We always remember,” the rest of the Team answers.
“Why say that?” Sister asks as they skirt the edge of a cemetery that is nothing more than a memorial to giant weeds and broken headstones, the occasional glimpse of a rotted wooden cross peeking out here and there. “Not everyone counts. Trust me. Sometimes you have to purge this world of those that don’t need to be here anymore.”
“Everyone in the Stronghold counts,” Cole says, his voice tight and cold, “and we always remember that.”
“If you say so,” Sister says, shrugging. “Just always remember to cover your ass if shit goes south.”
“What does that mean?” Alastair asks. “What shit is going south?”
Sister stops and gives him a puzzled look. “Everything. That’s why I’m here.”
“Okay, I’m done,” Cole says. He gets right in Sister’s face. “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to step in line and stop being so fucking creepy. You looked half dead when we found you, but now you’re ready for a fight.”
“I found you, not you found me,” Sister says and waves a hand. “Sorry. Go on.”
Cole growls and shakes his head.
“You say you know us, but we don’t know you,” Cole continues. “I need one good reason why we shouldn’t cut you loose and leave you to the wasteland.”
“I kick ass better than you do,” Sister says.
“Not good enough,” Cole replies. “And not fucking true.”
“Really?” Sister smirks.
“Do better or we cut you loose,” Cole says.
“Because I have all the secrets,” Sister says. “Commander Lee is going to want to hear those secrets.”
“What fucking secrets?” Cole asks.
“Uh, they’re secrets,” Sister responds. “For Commander Lee, not for TL Wright.”
Val gasps and points a finger at Sister.
“You’re the spy,” she says. “You’re the one Aunt Maura
hinted at.”
“Am I?” Sister replies. “Not like her to be hinting.”
Sister looks up into the crisp blue of what is turning into a nice late autumn morning with the late autumn storm far off on the horizon, looking like it will skirt the area and not become a problem.
“I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore,” Sister says.
“What doesn’t matter?” Cole asks.
“The secrets,” Sister says. “No use for secrets soon. Not all secrets.”
“You were spying on the Consortium,” Val states.
“Maybe,” Sister says. “Probably.”
“Are they coming this way?” Val asks. “Is the Consortium going to finally attack us? They have nukes, don’t they?”
“Nukes? The Consortium?” Sister laughs. “No, they don’t have nukes. Code Monkeys have nukes, but the Consortium doesn’t have shit. Not anymore.”
“Okay, crazy lady, game over,” Cole snaps. “Talk or you get cut loose. Last warning.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Val says. “Aunt Maura, I mean Commander Lee, will want to speak to her if she’s who I think she is.”
“And if she isn’t?” Cole asks. “We started off helping a wounded and bleeding woman. Now we’re just marching back to the Stronghold with a freaky Z killer that knows a fuck lot about cannies.”
“Takes one to know one,” Sister says.
“What?” DTA asks in unison. M-4s are raised and pointed at Sister.
“What was that?” Cole asks. “What did you say?”
“I said it takes one to know one,” Sister answers. “Some of you are related to cannies.”
“Fuck you we are,” Tiny D says.
“Nope, it’s true,” Sister insists her features becoming years younger as she takes on a look of complete sincerity. “Swear to everyone that counts. It was a long, long time ago, but it’s true. You think the convoy that founded the Stronghold were all just suburban survivors from that Whispering Pines place?”
“Whispering what?” Val asks.
“Never mind,” Sister says. “Doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything.”
“I vote we leave her here,” Tiny D says.
“I second that,” Diaz adds. “Lady is freaking me out.”
“Jesus,” Sister sighs. She pulls the sheathed blade from her belt and holds it out to Val. “Take it.”
“Yeah, I think I will,” Val says and snatches the offered blade.
Sister puts her hands out and offers her wrists.
“Tie me up, if it will make you feel better,” Sister says. “Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
“TL, we don’t have time to deal with this crap,” Diaz says. “I say we ditch her and be done.”
“We can’t ditch her,” Val protests. “She has information for Commander Lee.”
“Says you,” Diaz counters.
“Tell us something that’ll keep us from leaving you here,” Cole says. “Give me one thing that will make me believe you aren’t completely full of shit.”
“Really?” Sister responds. “Fine. One thing.”
DTA waits as Sister narrows her eyes and thinks it over.
“Well?” Cole snaps.
“Calm down, TL Wright,” Sister warns. “I have a lot of info in my brainpan. A lot. Just figuring out what I can say and what I can’t.”
“The Consortium. Tell us about that,” Val says.
“No way we can verify what she says,” Alastair states.
“The Consortium? Yeah, I can tell you all about them,” Sister says and nods. “They’re dead. Gone. No more. Adios, Hotlanta!”
“What?” Cole asks. “The Consortium is gone? Bullshit.”
“Not bullshit at all,” Sister says. She points at the sores on her face and head. “How do you think I got this shit? Cancer doesn’t grow on trees.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Tiny D says.
“Shit,” Val says. “The Consortium was nuked. That’s the cancer you have. Same as the kind my mom had. Severe radiation sickness.”
“Bingo was his name-o,” Sister says, pointing at Val. “No more Consortium. I found that out the hard way.”
“No way,” Alastair says. “If you have radiation sickness, you’d be dead.”
“Hard to kill,” Sister shrugs. “I’m getting tired of mentioning that. And this isn’t all from that. I’ve been to all the hot spots in the old USA.”
“What the hell happened to the Consortium?” Cole asks. “If it’s true.”
“Can’t tell you that,” Sister says. “I’ll let Commander Lee decide what the Teams, and the Stronghold, need to know. But believe the shit out of me, Mates, the Consortium did us a favor by checking out.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Cole says. “The Consortium checked out? Are you saying they nuked themselves?”
“Everyone counts,” Sister says. “We always remember.”
“Why the hell would they do that to themselves?” Cole asks.
“No choice,” Sister says. “They were dead anyway. You think there are a lot of Zs here now? Just wait until what’s coming this way gets here. Zs as far as the eyes can see.”
Cole rubs at his face then looks to DTA.
“On me,” he says and walks a few yards away. The Team follows right behind. “Opinions. Now.”
“She stays right here,” Diaz says.
“That,” Tiny D nods.
“I don’t know,” Alastair says.
“We have to bring her with us,” Val says.
“Fuck,” Cole grumbles. He looks over at Sister. “Fuck.”
Chapter Three- Look Homeward, Angel of Death
The outpost is built into the remains of what had once been an overpass at the intersection of highways 87 and 470 on the outskirts of the former metro area of Denver, Colorado. The overpass is long gone, but most of the concrete columns and support struts remain, the space between them built up with suspended platforms, connected by long rope and wood bridges. A pyre burns at the top of one of the columns, its black smoke drifting into the twilight sky.
Denver Team Beta One’s Team Leader, Stanford Lee, sits a few feet below the pyre that burns, his feet dangling over the ledge of broken concrete, his eyes watching the approaching figures with great interest.
Twenty-three, tall, muscular, with blond hair like his cousin Val, but instead of brown eyes, he has ice blue ones, Stanford swings his legs out and brings them back, out and back, out and back then stops and gets to his feet as one of the other Mates of DTB1, Shep Wilcox, walks across a short bridge towards him.
“I don’t recognize the woman,” Shep says when he reaches Stanford. He hands the TL a pair of horribly scuffed binoculars. “See if you do.”
Stanford takes the binoculars and puts them to his eyes. He focuses on the stranger, a woman dressed in some nasty leathers with a nearly shaved head. To Stanford’s eyes she looks sickly, but she carries herself with a familiar confidence.
“You don’t know her at all?” Stanford asks, moving his view so he can take in DTA as they hike towards the outpost. “Rest of the Team looks okay. They have Z guts on their uniforms, so they certainly got in the shit, but I don’t see any wounds.”
“The woman is wounded,” Shep says. “Check her side.”
Stanford moves the binoculars back to the stranger. He studies her for a few seconds more then grunts.
“Can’t be bad the way she’s keeping up with DTA,” Stanford says. “Her wrists are tied. Maybe she got the nick from one of the DTA Mates.”
“Maybe,” Shep replies then looks up at the pyre. “What color do you want me to make it?”
“Red then green,” Stanford responds. “Let the rest know that we have some danger incoming, but everything is cool right now.”
“Will do,” Shep says and steps to a rope ladder against the concrete column. He climbs the ladder while Stanford keeps studying the strange woman through the binoculars.
The pyre casts a bright red glow for a
few seconds as Shep tosses a signal powder into it. Then he tosses in a new powder and the flames turn a bright green before slowly burning back to their normal yellow and orange.
Stanford waits until Shep has climbed back down before he pulls the binoculars away from his eyes.
“We have any decent food to eat?” Stanford asks. “DTA is going to be hungry as shit after being out in the waste so long.”
“Crumble mix and some elk jerky,” Shep says. “Breena may have some apples. She always fucking hordes those in her kit.”
“See if she does,” Stanford says. He slaps Shep on the shoulder. “Ain’t outpost life just great?”
“You must have really pissed your mom off if she stuck us with this assignment,” Shep says. “What the hell did you do?”
“Who knows?” Stanford laughs. “The mind of Commander Lee has always been, and always will be, a complete fucking mystery to me.”
“You’re her son, man,” Shep says. “What the fuck?”
Stanford shrugs. “Fuck if I know, Mate. Fuck if I know.”
***
“Hey, Cuz,” Val says as she sees Stanford.
“Val,” Stanford says and smiles. “Cole.”
“Ford,” Cole says, clasping the man’s hand as he climbs up the rope ladder and into the outpost. “Good to see you holding things down.”
“What’d you do to piss your mom off, dude?” Alastair asks as he follows Cole and Val up then stands aside as Sister comes up after him.
Stanford only shrugs as he focuses on the new woman.
“What do we have here?” he asks. “Tiny D finally find a cuddle buddy?”
“Suck my dick, Ford,” Tiny D replies, following behind Alastair. Diaz is right behind her and turns to pull up the long rope ladder, keeping everyone in the outpost safe from curious crazies or acrobatic Zs.
“Hey now, I’m a TL,” Stanford says. “Show some respect.”
“Suck my dick, sir,” Tiny D replies.
“That’s more like it,” Stanford laughs. “But seriously, who is this motherfucker?”
“She calls herself Sister,” Cole says. “She needs to talk to Commander Lee.”
