‘What kind of signs?’ Claire asked.
‘Maybe they were like plague crosses, telling people where not to go?’ I though aloud, hopefully.
Emile shook his head.
‘There are many signs associated with Muerto Compaña. The most common of which, is the ankh. In the oldest religions, it is just a symbol for life after death. But it is also known to be…la bandera…’ he struggled, trying to find the words, ‘a flag to gather by. A sign of their passing. Or their territory.’
Claire looked from me to Emile again. ‘We know the ghouls are smart. We know they can be organised, follow a plan. But this, this is just fairy tales, right? What even is Muerto Compaña?’ she asked, looking to Emile.
‘An army of the dead.’
‘And what do we think is on the way to us right now?’ I thought aloud.
Claire tilted her head back. ‘We’re still sure it’s too late to go home?’
Thirty
Captain Hale estimated the zombies would arrive in twelve hours, based on it being a forty five minute drive to Overbridge at approximately forty mph, and zombies having a slightly slower than average walking speed.
I didn’t pay much attention to the maths, but that number stuck in my head. Twelve hours of staggering, shambling and dragging their feet, coming to us all the way from Overbridge. They’d do it without stopping too. They wouldn’t need to eat or drink, wouldn’t even need to slink off to the bushes for a private moment.
Rob said there was a walking trail through the countryside that was more direct than the roads, a tough six or seven hour hike, but Hale said it was unlikely the ghoul would bring its forces that way, even if it knew about it. Rough terrain would slow them down significantly, probably taking them even longer, and it’d want to trap us here before we had too much time to prepare.
Even so, Hale was a “failure to plan is planning to fail” kinda guy.
‘Are you sure they’ll be alright?’ Hale asked, ‘I don’t know how they’ll react if they come across the zombies.’
He was talking to Jevaun, Rob’s son, in the stables. The air smelled of hay, manure and horse. It’s not a bad smell exactly, but unmistakably agricultural. A lot of horses carry their own scent too, but when they’re all stabled together it’s hard to pick one out of the crowd.
‘They’re well trained,’ Jevaun said, adjusting his stance a little defensively. He was almost as tall as his father, which put him about level with Captain Hale and myself.
‘I’ve heard of guard dogs having some very strange reactions to the infected. The smell upsets them. I wish we could test the horses before putting them into danger.’
‘If my Dad was worried about the horses, he wouldn’t be using them. We might only look after them, but they’re still part of the family.’
The horses Rob kept at the farm were beautiful animals, and looked healthy. It’d been years since I’d ridden, but the little girl who loved ponies eventually grew up to be a teenager who at least knew the basics of taking care of them.
I might have forgotten half of that now, but I still knew the basics. As I came into the stables, they’d been curious, wanting to get a look at me, see if I had any apples stashed away. Glossy coats, bright eyes, clean noses. They looked good.
‘I brought those supplies you wanted.’ I announced, giving a big chestnut male a rub on the neck as he stuck his snout over the door to inspect me.
‘Thanks Nurse Cox,’ Hale said, walking over to take the bags from me, two cloth satchels loaded with basic first aid gear.
‘You’re a nurse?’ Jevaun asked. ‘Look more like you should be in the all-girl tribute to Some Bad Men.’
‘Don’t be down on Some Bad Men. I love em.’ I told him, giving him a look over my shoulder as I fussed the horse.
He put his palms up. ‘And I love the all-girl tribute.’
Jevaun quickly realised what he’d said could have been interpreted as flirting. ‘They’re called Those Bad Girls.’ He hurriedly added, ‘Can get them on the Wireless, if the world ever goes normal again.’
‘I will.’ I smiled at him. Of course, I knew all the tribute acts and their cover versions, but the kid was near cringing with embarrassment already, so I didn’t call him out.
‘Captain, Nurse.’ He nodded, before beating a hasty retreat.
Hale didn’t pick up on Jevaun’s awkwardness, or chose to ignore it, presumably having been a teenage boy himself at some point.
‘I hope these won’t be missed?’ he asked, adjusting the satchels on his shoulder.
‘I shook my head. ‘We’re good for medical supplies. You…made sure of that.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He said.
Silence loomed for a moment.
‘About the hospital. County.’ He added.
‘I know.’ I said.
I stopped playing with the horse and gave him my full attention, taking in a deep breath to prepare a sharp response, but letting it go on the exhale.
‘I can forgive you. Everything you’ve done so far, on the road, and here. You’ve not stopped risking your life for people. I see now that you did what you thought was best. Couldn’t keep everyone alive, so you chose to keep as many alive as you could.’
‘Exactly.’ He said, a faint tugging at the corner of his mouth threatening to become a relieved smile.
‘I can forgive. But I don’t know if I can forget.’
‘That’s fair.’
‘I appreciate it though. Saying you’re sorry. I know you don’t have to. County was your operation and you ran it how you thought was best. I disagreed at the time, not sure if I’d feel differently now, but it doesn’t matter. I’m sure in this weird hybrid command structure we’ve got going, my opinion doesn’t count all that much.’
Hale shook his head. ‘No, I expect you to make a report of it when we get to Sydow.’
‘Why would I report you?’
‘Not that kind of report. When SySec undertakes any contract alongside another organisation, the Board expects reports from key members of that organisation, being on the Board myself doesn’t exempt me from this. In fact, I must hold myself to an even higher standard as an example.’
‘What are the reports for? Just records or do they even mean anything?’ I asked, willing to bet it was the former. Even soldiers have bureaucracy.
Hale shook his head. ‘We use the reports to inform future operations – like what I said about there being a plan for everything? That’s because there’s very little we haven’t seen before, plenty of mistakes we can learn from. That, and it makes sure nobody abused their powers during the contract. Not without a record of misconduct, at least.’
‘I’m not a key member of the VHC anyway. I don’t even want to be here.’ I added, feeling myself begin to laugh.
‘You’re a key part of this “hybrid command structure”, as you call it. And when we get to Sydow, I’ll make sure the hospital administrators know it too, if the CDC doesn’t get their hands on you. I’ll expect that report first though.’ He added with a smile.
I felt like laughing some more, but despite the smiling, he was serious. I wiped off my grin.
‘I work A&E, Captain. We see everything. Some of it, you can’t leave at the door. It follows you home. The job, some days it feels like it is my life. My whole life. Like there’s no version of me outside of it. Right now, that line’s even more blurred.’
Hale looked down at his uniform, picked off a strand of horsehair, and looked back to me. ‘People like us are always on the clock, whether we’re in the uniform or not.’ He said.
‘It was hard to leave the hospital behind,’ I told him, ‘It was my home almost as much as my actual house is. Wish I was there with my friends, not here with zombies on the way.’
‘You and me both. I only left my house three days ago, but it seems like a month. I hope our loved ones are faring better than we are.’ Hale said.
‘Who is it you’re missing? Got a wife back home or are you still, what w
as it Mrs Lowe said? Shagging foreign birds?’
Hale grinned. ‘I brought one back with me from a tour Sartogan. In a few months, it’ll be ten years married. Two beautiful kids. What about you? Anyone waiting at home?’
‘Just housemates, and a fiancé.’
‘Long engagement?’
I laughed, and shook my head. ‘Matter of days.’
‘Bloody hells! Congratulations. You spoken to him since coming to work? I usually get to call my wife and kids every day or so, but with the phones as they are…’
‘No such luck…’ I said, shaking my head, thoughts trailing away.
Silence hung heavy for a moment, until one of the horses chuffed their disapproval of something. Gods know what. That’s horses for you.
‘What’s the plan for them anyway?’ I asked, hooking a thumb at the moody mare.
‘Ah, yes,’ he said, like he was surprised we were still in the stables. ‘I had an idea. With the increased range and mobility of being on horseback, we can patrol a wider perimeter around the farm, and keep an eye on that walking trail, just in case. Apparently Rob and Jevaun are proficient riders, and Mrs Lowe says a few of her people can ride too.’
‘Well, they are from the posher part of Greenfield.’
‘So I’ve heard. Several from my team expressed an interest in going on the patrol as well, but only Sergeant Bailey has any riding experience and I need her overseeing construction. You seem to have an interest in horses, I don’t suppose you know how to ride?’
Claire was going to be so jealous.
*
Our group was led by Rob and we were accompanied by Reg, who Mrs Lowe had said deserved a break from guarding the lodge. There were only six horses able to take a rider, there being a yearling colt and filly who were still too young. Could have maybe put some saddlebags on them if we were going on a week long voyage into the hill country, but since we were only going around the acreage we left them be.
To get us used to the horses, and the horses used to us, Rob led us at a steady walking pace around the property. Plan was, if we encountered any trouble when out and about, we were all to ride straight back to the farm and report in. Rob had a farmer’s double-barrel shotgun and Reg his rifle, just in case. I’d abstained from a weapon purely on the grounds of Emile still saying I couldn’t have one.
Even then, the guns were not to be fired unless circumstances were dire. We didn’t know how the horses would react to the smell of the undead, and throwing in gunfire was not likely to be helpful. The last thing I wanted was to be prone with a broken clavicle as the horde washed over me.
Still, they were lovely horses.
‘He’s really well behaved, Rob.’ I commented as we went out into the lanes that separated his fields.
‘I can’t take all the credit,’ Rob said, looking over his shoulder, ‘I ride an give the stabling, but most of the training comes from a fine woman. Lived outside Overbridge.’
I sensed a bit of weight in Rob’s voice that Reg did not.
‘Do you know what happened to her?’ he asked.
‘Stop by her house yesterday morning. Thought, everything going on, she might want company. Nobody home.’ Rob said, shaking his head.
Reg and I shared a look, and he dropped it.
Out in the fields, the hedgerow and fencing gaps had been plugged in a similar way to the side-gate – wood and nails, sweat and tears, with post-holes filled with cement. Sergeant Bailey had seen to it that these makeshift defences were erected earlier, just to give us a bit of protection until Captain Hale returned.
Now he was back, these walls were further fortified by the incredibly sophisticated method of getting a bunch of dudes to start digging a trench in front of them. All that dirt was then thrown behind the patchwork fencing.
This meant that any zombie looking to come sauntering up to our defences would find themselves standing at the bottom of a four foot ditch, shoving at wooden boards backed up by a freaking ton of soil. Worst case? They stopped pushing and decide to rip open the boards. The soil then comes crashing back down into the ditch, right on top of them. Now there’s hill to climb, and the attackers are partially buried in it. Win-win.
At the front of the property, the gates had already been fitted with bracing beams, as well as those medieval castle-style crossbars. But they wouldn’t give us much of a line of sight on our attackers, they’d just buy the gates time. Not acceptable, not for our fortification specialist soldiers.
They stacked straw bales against the gates, forming a set of steps for people to stand and attack from. Firearms could be safely discharged at damn near point blank range, and the motley collection of improvised weaponry being assembled could be wielded from relative safety, if only to smash at hands rather than cave in heads.
Getting close enough for that however, was not to everyone’s taste, and folks had amassed quite an array of munitions to throw at the enemy before it came to that, taking yet more queues from Hale and Bailey’s presumably encyclopaedic knowledge of medieval siege warfare techniques. Hale said SySec went back a thousand years, and if they’d been keeping reports all that time, it made sense they’d know a thing or two.
Stacks of bricks and larger breezeblocks waited at every gate and fence, ready to be hurled at the enemy, along with similarly sized stones liberated from their original decorative purposes in Rob’s gardens.
Once Rob was sure we had a handle on the horses, we left the farm through the main gate and began our patrol. We were still keeping to a steady walking pace, not looking to tire the horses. They might be in for a long night too.
After a while, we left the road and began crossing through fields and down winding lanes, hedgerows and fences on either side. Even with the overcast sky, it was peaceful and pastoral, almost enough to forget that the reason we were out here was to spot approaching undead monsters. Almost.
Rob told us about the history of Grant Farm as we went, giving us little anecdotes about his family and life growing up here after the war. He was just a kid when his parents came over, part of a combined initiative to rebuild the Republic’s labour force and take on refugees from war-torn Commonwealth nations.
He’d grown up on the farm, moved away after doing his national service and came back to be live-in help when his father fell ill. Ended up sticking around and taking the farm off his mother, much to both their surprise. He’d never wanted it, now he couldn’t imagine his life without it.
After a couple hours exploring the outskirts of the farm, we stopped for a bite to eat, us and the horses. It was all quiet, save the birds in the hedges and the rustling of wind in distant trees. No sign of the dead yet, but then, we weren’t expecting them until midnight.
The real reason we were out here was to see if the ghouls had planned any surprises.
‘Secret flanking manoeuvre.’ Reg suggested, as we were sitting on the tarp to tuck into lunch. I’d originally suggested a picnic blanket, but rob favoured the tarp as the ground would have been absolutely soaking from last night’s rain.
‘Nah, they tried that already.’ Rob said. He was spread out, relaxed, but his shotgun was in easy reach.
‘Doesn’t mean they won’t try it again,’ I said, ‘might try another ghoul attack tonight. Climb over the hedges somewhere and start picking off the garrison teams one by one.’
‘Glad you’re on our side, Nurse Cox.’ Reg said, toasting me with his bottle of orange cordial.
‘Reckon there’s a way we can stop the ghouls from getting in?’ I asked. ‘We should come up with something and tell them when we get back. Get them to put a load of staggered patrols on the interior defences?’
‘Call them on the radio, suggest it.’ Rob said, tossing me a SySec walkie-talkie.
‘Yeah, why wait.’ I said, about to bring it up to talk. I stopped before pushing the button. ‘Or maybe the ghouls are listening, like Hale said.’
‘Shit.’ Rob tutted.
‘They’re rather good at this psychologica
l warfare lark.’ Reg said. ‘Even if they’re not as smart as we’re giving them credit for, they’re making us paranoid.’
So we made a point of swinging back by the farm before making another lap of the acreage, and passing our concerns on to Mrs Lowe. She said she’d take care of it, so we dropped our lunchboxes back off with Lydia and went back out. Any longer in that kitchen and the smell of tonight’s meal might have sent my knees weak.
Then we were back on patrol until sunset. It was too dangerous to be so far from the farm if we were losing the light. We’d have sentries on the barricades with torches and standing lights pilfered from the construction work, but as the night drew closer in, so did our patrol.
Eventually, darkness fell.
Some tried to sleep. Some even managed to. I tried to be one of them, getting my head down on a roll of jeans, making myself as comfortable as the barn floor and sleeping bag allowed me. We’d just eaten, so I was warm, full and as ready to snooze as I was going to get.
Still, rest eluded me. The thin foam sheet made me long for the softness of my own bed, and thoughts of my own bed brought back memories. Kelly’s sleeping form beside mine. Kelly’s…not-so-sleeping form too. He’d proposed to me just after we’d had sex, while I was still catching my breath in the afterglow. It might not have been very romantic, but it was very us.
‘Can you just…not go in?’ he asked me, memories of our last conversation together.
‘They need me, this is what I wanted to do when I turned down that job with my parents. Be there for people. Make a difference. I can’t bail out on my oaths just because things are getting tough.’
I rolled over, turning away from him, trying to ignore the crowd of thoughts in my head, each vying for attention. They were like flies, buzzing in and out the fantasy version of my bedroom.
‘Fuck me Katy, you can’t be serious.’ Laurel said. Why was she in my bed? Or were we in the living room again?
‘It’s my job, Laurel. If I can help, I need to be there.’
She and Dani brought me in for a hug, but they’d started to turn grey and mottled, so I shoved them back and made to run, feet pumping up a set of weathered steps in the woods, tugging on an old iron railing to climb them faster, only for the front doors to slide open. I dodged a rolling gurney and collided with the front desk.
The Suburban Dead (Book 2): Emergency Page 28
