Z Plan (Book 2): Red Tides

by Lerma, Mikhail

  “I don’t…” he said, as he pushed her away, “I’m not sure…” he was interrupted when she proceeded to kiss and grope him.

  “You think too much,” she said between kisses. “Sometimes you just need to let things happen.”

  He fought the urge to push her away. The light barely lit her face, and Ben began to fantasize that she was Lauren. His inhibitions were cast aside as he fell back onto the green cot set up in the isle. She thrust her pelvis rhythmically against his. In a swift move, she removed his shirt, and in the darkness he groped at her body. Feeling her firm flesh against his, Ben let his hands wander, discovering it all.

  Kristie reached down to his remove his belt, and it clanked as the buckle hit the floor. Ben slid up on the cot and removed his pants. She didn’t waste the chance to perform fellatio on him. He looked down at her, still seeing Lauren in his mind’s eye. Kristie stood up and removed her own clothing, and kicked her shoes and pants to the side. She lowered herself onto him slowly, and together they let out sighs of pleasure. Kristie rocked back and forth, slowly at first, but then rapidly speeding up. The cot’s metal legs scraped the floor, screeching loudly.

  “Lauren,” Ben whispered quietly.

  “What?” asked Kristie, in between heavy breaths.

  Ben ignored her, and switched positions, pushing her backwards onto the cot. Their bodies tangled together in a writhing mass of flesh. Kristie began to moan. He avoided looking directly at her face. Ben increased his speed, and their collective grunts grew louder. Closing his eyes he imagined Lauren beneath him and as their eyes locked, he continued thrusting, until finally, they climaxed together. Ben collapsed on top of her.

  He could feel her shudder beneath him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and Ben could feel her heart thumping in unison with his. Neither of them moved until their breathing slowed. Suddenly, all he wanted was to sleep.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you,” confessed Kristie.

  Hearing her words ruined the fantasy image of Lauren resting underneath him. Quickly, his demeanor changed, as he hopped up and searched for his clothes.

  “Wait,” Kristie demanded, as she sat up on the green cot. “What’s wrong?”

  Ben continued to look for his clothing.

  “Ben?” she pleaded.

  “Don’t fucking tell anyone about this! You hear me? You God damn whore. I’ll fucking kill you! Don’t talk to me, and don’t you fucking talk to Lauren!” he yelled in a way that struck fear right to her core.

  She wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Do you fucking understand?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah…” Kristie choked out.

  He hurriedly dressed, then snatched up the lantern and left her naked and in the dark. Kristie began to cry. Ben ignored the sound as he walked past the cages and onto the drill floor.

  “What if she finds out?” he asked himself.

  He was getting ready to open the glass doors to the outside, when he heard the gunshots and screams. Ben stared in shock, as he watched a group of people he didn’t recognize terrorizing his community.

  They drove trucks wildly in circles.

  Some rode motorcycles.

  They fired shots erratically into the air…

  42.

  Fortify

  Lauren trembled as she shielded the two children. Luckily, they were both confused as to what was happening and stayed quiet.

  “Stay right here!” she ordered the two children.

  “Please don’t go,” pleaded Callum.

  “It’s okay,” she told him calmly, though her heart was thumping wildly.

  Lauren gave both children kisses on the forehead. Her eyes began to tear up as she crawled out of the bedroom on all fours, to the front of the RV. A stray round passed through the window and struck the wooden cabinets. Glass rained down on her, cutting her arms and hands. In the bedroom Marie and Callum began to scream. Lauren shushed them.

  “It’s okay,” assured Lauren.

  Blood ran down her arms to the floor. Marie stood up to walk to her mommy.

  “Callum don’t let her go!” she demanded.

  Callum pulled her back as she screamed. Lauren crawled up to the passenger seat, and through the curtain she could see a black pickup speeding in circles. Two men in the back were armed with rifles, and she ducked, as one of them fired another shot at the RV. The round impacted somewhere along the side of the vehicle. Lauren opened the glove box and removed the pistol that had been stashed there.

  “It’s for emergencies,” Ben had told her when he’d shown it to her.

  This was clearly an emergency. It was only a revolver, so she’d have to make the six shots count. Lauren could hear the men whoop and holler outside. She began to crawl back to the kids, as another shot ricocheted off of the RV.

  “You get in there and see what they’ve got!” a voice from outside shouted.

  Lauren’s heart began to beat rapidly. The front door opened, and a man wearing a skull mask walked in. In his arms was a hunting rifle. Immediately, he began raiding the cabinets; pulling out boxes and cans of food. He hadn’t even noticed Lauren and the kids crouched down on the floor until Marie whimpered. The man searched for the source of the sound.

  “Hello, there,” he said in an eerie tone.

  He moved toward them; shifting the weapon in his hands as he did. Lauren didn’t hesitate; she shot the man. He was dead after the first shot, but she fired one more time to make sure. He fell backwards onto the floor and blood began to pool around him.

  “Danny! Danny, are you okay in there?” the voice from outside asked.

  When there was no answer, Lauren heard a door slam closed.

  “Danny?” the man said again, “I’m coming in!” he informed.

  The door opened again, and dust billowed in just ahead of the large and very fat man who entered. He paused when he saw the body on the floor.

  “Danny!” he exclaimed.

  He looked around to find who’d done this to his brother.

  “You bitch!” he screamed at Lauren.

  The kids wailed and carried on.

  She dropped the fat man with one shot. He fell backwards, out of the camper and down the steps, and began to bleed out. The blood oozed from the bullet hole in his neck, and he coughed and gagged as he groped at his wound.

  “Fuck!” someone else yelled.

  Lauren listened to the commotion outside and waited to see if anyone else would be foolish enough to come in. Another round struck the outside of the RV, and then one more passed through the already shattered window, hitting the cabinet. Lauren covered the terrified children with her own body as their home was peppered with bullets. It seemed like hours passed as she huddled over them. She prayed it would stop soon, that somehow Cale would come and save them.

  “It’s okay, baby,” she whispered to them repeatedly.

  Suddenly, the firing stopped. Lauren still didn’t move when the gravel crunched and someone approached the door of the RV. The shadow of a man was cast onto the wall. Lauren prepared to fire again.

  “Lauren!” Ben shouted as he entered.

  “Ben!” she said relieved.

  He dropped his bloody bat, and moved to Lauren.

  “Oh my God!” he exclaimed, when he saw her arms, “Were you hit?”

  “No,” she shook her head, “I’m okay.”

  He hugged her and the children tightly while the attack continued outside.

  “Wait here,” he said, as he grabbed Danny’s hunting rifle and ammunition.

  “What are you doing?” Lauren asked, grabbing his arm.

  “There are others in trouble,” explained Ben. “Just stay here and I’ll be back.”

  Lauren did as instructed and stayed with the children while Ben went out to repel the attackers.

  * * *

  He closed the door behind him, and watched as a man on a motorcycle opened fire on another RV. Ben raised the hunting rifle and began shooting. The rounds fell short
, throwing debris at the man. The instigator’s attention quickly turned to Ben.

  “Crap,” whispered Ben, as he raised his rifle. He fired off another round, but quickly took cover behind a neighboring RV as the biker returned fire. He waited for a pause in gunfire, and then peeked out. The biker was reloading, so Ben fired another wave of lead at the man. Again, the rounds hit the dirt. Ben heard a bullet whiz past his ear, and suddenly realized they had him caught in crossfire. Another vehicle pulled up for the biker to take cover behind, and soon after the attackers formed a defensive circle within their camp of RVs. Another round whipped past Ben. The shooter was lying in the field.

  “Oh shit!” exclaimed Ben.

  Just as the man was about to fire again, his head hitched to the side suddenly. Ben was confused at first by the move, but when the shooter didn’t get up Ben concluded he’d been shot.

  “Ben!” someone shouted. “Get over here!”

  It was Doc. He and a few others were using some farm equipment they’d brought up to build the wall as cover. A volley of shots bounced off the Payloader they hid behind. Quickly, they suppressed the enemy fire so that Ben could get to them. He sprinted across the open battlefield and closed the gap; sudden instinct from his old baseball playing days kicked in. Ben slid in behind the large yellow machine as if he were sliding into home plate.

  “Where’d they come from?” asked Ben.

  “We’re not sure! They just rolled up to the gates and started shooting!” Marcus replied.

  “And we just let them in!?” Ben shouted.

  “Not really a whole lot anyone could do while we were still building the wall!” answered Doc.

  “I’m gonna try and flank ‘em!” said Roy. “It’s the only way we’ll be able to get the upper hand!”

  “Right! We’ll cover you!” Ben said.

  Ben, Marcus, and Doc fired in unison, forcing their attackers down again. One of them continued to fire blindly over the top of the truck.

  “Go!” Doc yelled at Roy.

  Just as Roy sprinted for cover, Marcus stumbled and fell backwards. Surprised, both Ben and Doc turned to see what had happened. A stray bullet had struck him. His face was unrecognizable.

  “Fuck!” Ben shouted.

  In the confusion, both men stopped firing. Roy had almost made cover when he was shot. Like a deer shot in mid-flight, he slammed into the dirt and rolled limply.

  “No!” exclaimed Doc.

  They were pinned down, outgunned, and outnumbered.

  “What are we going to do?” Ben asked Doc.

  Doc was watching Roy to see if he would move. “I don’t know,” he finally answered.

  The windows of the Payloader shattered, as rounds tore through its cockpit, and the broken glass showered the two men.

  “Damn it,” hissed Ben. “Fuck you!” he screamed, as he fired back.

  One of the men began screaming in agony. Ben poked his head out for a second, and watched as yet another man fell to the ground, screaming.

  “Holy shit,” Ben whispered.

  “Did you get one?” asked Doc.

  “No,” Ben replied. “But we should start shooting!”

  Doc poked his head around the bucket of the Payloader. Kristie had rallied some of the group, and had flanked their attackers. Together they focused their fire and showed the assailants that they wouldn’t surrender quietly. Quickly, the men piled into one of their trucks, taking the time to retrieve their dead and wounded, before gunning it back to the road. From there, they turned north. The community continued to fire as they retreated, stopping only when the vehicle was out of sight. The tension was electric, and they all stood together, slowly coming down from the adrenaline rush. One by one, they wandered out onto the battlefield to survey the damages.

  “Is everyone okay?” Doc yelled, as he looked around camp.

  “They killed Roy,” someone replied.

  “Has anyone seen Marcus?” asked Jim.

  All was silent as everyone looked for him within the group. Doc already knew the answer to his friend’s question.

  “He’s…” Doc said sadly. “He’s dead Jim.”

  Jim stared in disbelief. The crowd was silent.

  “Let’s get everyone rounded up here!” ordered Doc. “We need a headcount.”

  A few members of the group broke off to gather up those who were left.

  “The wall can’t wait any longer,” Ben said angrily.

  “A wall won’t keep those people out,” Kristie objected.

  “No, but if we post up the weapons you have in the armory along the wall, it may deter them,” argued Ben.

  “I don’t know…” Kristie started.

  “Those guns are going up,” he cut her off.

  “But there isn’t any ammo for them,” she objected.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Ben replied. “All we need is a strong presence.”

  Doc could see the reluctance on Kristie’s face.

  “Ben is right,” he offered. “We just need to look like the kind of people you don’t want to mess with.”

  “You have enough army uniforms in there to dress up our guards too,” stated Ben. “We could make it look like a military camp.”

  “Okay,” Kristie said, coming around.

  They were right. Tread softly and carry a big stick. So what if the stick wasn’t loaded, as long as everyone believed it was.

  Doc went to work on the casualty list, while Ben and Jim coordinated the fortification. Kristie was in charge of weapon placement and making sure that the people sitting behind them looked like they knew what they were doing. All day they worked at erecting the wall. A nearby scrap yard provided the majority of the materials. Welding torches and heavy machinery were commandeered from the immediate area, and by the time the sun began to set, a perimeter had been formed. They’d set up entry control points on the north, west, and south sides, and each had a .50 cal, and three guards posted. One would man the empty machine gun, another would carry an M16, and the last would have the real firearm.

  “We’ve still got a lot of work to do,” said Doc, patting Ben on the back, “but I don’t think we’ll be getting anymore surprise visitors.”

  “Agreed,” he smiled. “I was thinking that maybe we should scout out and see where they came from.”

  Doc wasn’t so sure, “We don’t want to start a war with them son.”

  “Nothing like that,” Ben assured him. “Just a reconnaissance to get an idea of where they are and how many there are.”

  Doc thought about it for a moment before speaking. “I suppose it would be a good tactical strategy. Who do you want to take with you?”

  “Just one other person,” Ben informed him. “If we keep the numbers small we’re less likely to be seen.

  “Alright then,” Doc smiled. “Go get some rest. You can leave at dawn.”

  43.

  The Truth Will Out

  Lauren glanced through the binoculars at the camp in the ravine once again. From their position, she and Ben could see over the walls to the core of the camp. It was a community like theirs, but it was much larger, and they had perhaps three times the population. Many of the residents sat in shanties or outside on the ground. None of the structures were solid. It was like an old Hooverville from the Depression era.

  “Nomadic, you think?” Lauren asked.

  “I think so,” Ben whispered.

  They certainly had enough vehicles to transport their numbers. There were vans, pickups, a few cars, and three large school buses that had been up-armored. Smoke plumes drifted toward the sky, making it easy to locate them. Even though Ben and Lauren were a good distance away, they could smell the slow cooking deer meat. Lauren’s stomach growled, and she didn’t even like deer meat.

  “Hungry?” Ben asked rhetorically.

  Lauren ignored him.

  “It looks like they only attacked us for supplies,” observed Lauren, “They don’t look like they can even support themselves.”

  “Ma
ybe we should attack them,” Ben suggested. “Wipe them out.”

  “There are kids down there,” objected Lauren.

  “They didn’t seem to mind that when they attacked us,” argued Ben.

  “We’re better than that,” Lauren stated.

  She peered through the binoculars and watched a group of kids pretend the sticks they were wielding were guns. A few of the kids walked slowly with their arms reached out. Their steps were erratic and clunky. One of the little girls raised her stick up into the pocket of her shoulder and pretended it recoiled, as if she’d fired a round. Another child, pretending to be a zombie, fell to the ground.

  “Did you see that?” she asked Ben.

  “Getting them young,” he chuckled. “Not a bad idea, actually.”

  “You can’t be serious?” she looked at him bewildered.

  “What? I just don’t think it’s a bad idea to train kids. They need to know what to do in a worst case scenario,” Ben explained his point of view.

  “They’re just kids.” Lauren shook her head.

  The scouting team watched the enemy camp for a few more minutes before packing up their gear and walking away. Ben slowly crept out onto the road to make sure no was driving past.

  “Hurry,” he said, waving Lauren forward to follow him out.

  He reached his hand out to her, but she ignored it. Hastily, they crossed the road and entered the tree line on the other side. It was a five-mile hike through the woods to a small town called Preston. There was barely enough light left to make it there, so they knew they would have to make camp for the night and finish the trip back the next day. In order not to be seen, they hadn’t used any transport.

  The biggest threat in the town was the infected that roamed around the general store. Ben and Lauren had agreed to hole up in the boarded up post office. When they’d passed through the town on their way to the enemy encampment, Ben had noticed that it had roof access. Someone had spray painted the word ‘SAFE’ with an arrow pointing up the ladder. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen these markers. Survivors often set up safe rooms for other survivors in heavily infected places. They would still exercise caution when they went in; just because it was designated safe didn’t always mean it was.