There it was, the screaming he knew he'd hear. Strange, no bar or even convenience store stood close enough for him to hear someone screaming from inside. Rough hands grabbed his burned body, their cold touch offering brief relief before the stinging, searing pain. Some distant part of his mind registered that he screamed while Braeden relived his nightmare for the thousandth time, dimly aware that this time it was his voice saying “It's OK. It's OK because I love you.”
Chapter 16
Keeping a Promise
Waking up in your parent's house, on your old living room floor when your entire family is gone can be disorienting normally, during a zombie apocalypse, doubly so. Isaac led the three of them to his parent's house easily enough. As Isaac pointed out before they left the train (the one it had been his bright idea to jump to), his family split in a hurry. His assumption seemed valid after exploring the disaster area that was his mother's normally tidy house and not finding anyone or any bodies—just the mess of hurried packing and panicked flight.
Isaac opened the front door while the sun set behind the house, casting long shadows across the street and painting streaks of maroon across the horizon.
Strangely it takes a while to cross a dying city on foot.
Eddy suggested staying the first night, partly to give them time to look for notes or other indications of where Isaac's family went and partly because he had no intention of being outside after dark. They could have slept in any of the bedrooms. None of them wanted to: bedrooms have windows, and windows break. Isaac pulled down the extra blankets from the forgotten top shelf of a back linen closet to build a futon in the living room floor.
They spent all day the next day looking through the house for any message they could have possibly missed the day before. Sam added more food and water to their backpacks. Even though only midday has passed, they decided to spend another day at the house planning their next move. Isaac spent most of the day staring at photos still hanging in the hall and trying to remember what the missing ones looked like. He knew they had always been the family favorites, so it was a good bet his family was alive and thinking when they left.
One day more turned into three. Still no one could come up with a decent plan, and the prospect of repeating their escape from the dorms dampened any urge to leave without one. What few stations remained on the air showed nothing new. Sam and Eddy doubted anyone updated the things in days. The days-old ticker tape of open and closed rescue points scrolled, endlessly chasing it's own tail. Isaac rummaged through the garage and found a relatively recent driver's atlas his dad always kept for long road trips. When they weren't losing their minds or talking each other out of simply leaving the house for wherever, they plotted every rescue station in the state and crossed off the ones known to have fallen.
***
“We need a plan,” Isaac said. He, Eddy and Sam at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee. The map with all the rescue stations in the Illinois marked on it, sat between them. “I'm up for suggestions.”
Eddy sipped his coffee. “I'll just say the obvious. We need to go somewhere we can secure. Strong walls, few windows. Fences would be good. Or well away from people.”
Sam sat up like she'd been kicked. Isaac and Eddy looked at her. “It's a bit of a trip, but one of my uncles has a cabin on hunting property. He keeps it pretty well stocked, and it's a good thirty miles from the nearest town.”
“That sounds promising,” Eddy nodded. “You know how to get there?”
Sam didn't answer right away, pretending to study the map to buy herself some time. Eddy ducked his head so he could make eye contact. She read the question in his eyes readily. “No. I don't know the exact route. The times we went up there, my dad always drove.”
Isaac let his head slide down his arms and into the counter with a dull thud.
“Try it a bit harder next time. Maybe you'll bash some sense into that noggin of yours,” Eddy said over his shoulder. “The cabin is still a good idea, Sam.”
“How? None of us knows how to get to it.”
“There's literally tons of cabins out there. We don't have to find your uncle's cabin for the cabin to work,” Eddy looked at the map. “Look, there's good hunting all through Minnesota and South Dakota too. All we gotta do is get there and start looking around the woods for a cabin with no one to be upset if we borrow it.”
Isaac spun the map to give everyone a new perspective. “There's still a lot of populated areas between us and the woods for either state. We can take the Impala, but it's gonna have limitations.”
“What? Like we have to park away from the cart returns?” Sam asked, sticking her tongue out.
“No. Doubt that matters any more. I meant more like it can't handle off road or tight spaces particularly well,” Isaac said. “On the sorta plus side, we can easily swing past this recovery station to see if my parents went there. It's the closest and as of the last time the news updated its—”
Three successive bangs like a big bowling ball bouncing down a lane sounded through the walls. “Gunfire,” Eddy said. “.40 or .45, and fairly close. Grab our bags. We're leaving.”
Sam and Isaac sat there looking at Eddy who had his pistol in hand and stalked over to the one window with a gap.
“Now.” He commanded.
“We're not ready. Besides, whoever shot might be able to help us.”
“Doubt it. And I'm more worried about the noise drawing more of them to the area. There's already a half dozen out there. In a half hour, it could triple or worse. Pack our shit. Lets go.
Sam and Isaac slid off their stools and started collecting the back packs and loose things that might be useful. “Where you have in mind to go?” Sam asked as she finished folding a blanket from the sleeping pallet.
Two more gunshots sounded in the street, closer than before.
“We'll go by that military recovery point then to Minnesota,” Eddy said, nervously adjusting his grip on his pistol. “Come on. Leave the rest.” Eddy made for the garage door.
***
It took less than ten minutes for the three of them to haphazardly throw everything they could in the teal, four-door '65 Impala sitting in the garage. At the last second, Isaac grabbed the three cases of water that had been sitting in the garage for as long as he could remember.
On the street, Eddy's fears proved well founded. The half dozen odd zombies he'd seen through the slit in the window multiplied. They came from side yards, open doors and down the street. The all metal construction of the classic car provided them with enough protection to let them start to relax. So long as Isaac kept the car moving, at least at a crawl, they'd be safe enough.
The windows on the other hand. Zombies might be able to shatter those. Just don't get mobbed...
Isaac turned North, away from the majority of the zombies. The steady rumble of the engine drew some attention, but few turned toward the car. As he drove down the street, a couple zombies lunged for the car. They bounced harmlessly off the metal. One left a bloody hand print on Sam's window. She scooted away toward the center of the rear bench seat.
It took thirty-five minutes to cover ten miles. Twice they backtracked to avoid roads thick with undead milling around large car wrecks.
“Looks like we're going the right way,” Isaac said. Cars lined up bumper-to-bumper sat locked and empty. Barricades forced the line to turn left. Isaac turned left because the line of cars kept him from doing anything else. A couple blocks ahead, the line of cars turned right.
Eddy eyed the empty cars and scanned for evidence of zombies. “I don't like this,” he said. In the mirror, Isaac saw Sam nod.
A block later, they passed a 2000 Suburban. Isaac jammed the brakes. Sam fell off the seat, and Eddy braced himself to keep from bashing his forehead against the dash.
“How about a little warning next time?” Eddy said as he bounced against the seat.
“That's my parents' truck,” Isaac said backing up even with the green Suburban. “Can you see anything?”
/>
Sam crawled up from the floor board. “I don't see anything around us.”
Isaac got out of the car, closing the door quietly behind him. Eddy shook his head in bemusement then climbed out of the car as well.
“No blood, no dents, doors are even locked,” Isaac said, letting go of the chrome door handle. A breeze stirred paper along the street.
“Isaac, I really don't like this. Let's drive up to the rescue station, then get as far from here as we can,” fear edged into Eddy's voice.
As Isaac shut his door, he heard the faintest moan.
The line of cars en route to the rescue station continued for another mile. Bodies draped over concertina wire surrounding the gym and main school building. More bodies lay piled on both sides of the badly warped chain-link fence. No soldiers stood at the entry point or in the hastily erected sandbag positions.
Isaac jumped the curb and drove around the High School. Cars, sandbags and bodies blocked all the gates in the fence surrounding the makeshift rescue station. A few, solitary bodies sprawled on the lawn where they fell as they approached the buildings.
Sam put her hand on Isaac's shoulder; “I'm sorry.”
Isaac turned to look at her. “I need to know for sure. I'm going to jump the fence, and try to find a window to look through.”
“Sam, your it's your choice,” Eddy said opening his door, “You can wait with the car and give us warning if things change out here, or you can come with.”
Eddy looked over his shoulder at his friend. She sat there, thinking. “We won't be long. Ten minutes tops.” He slid out of his seat and followed Isaac to the fence.
They jumped the fence easily.
“One of these days you'll come up with a plan that isn't stupid,” Eddy said as they crept toward the gymnasium.
“And you'll have a heart attack,” Isaac said. He angled toward the corner of the building.
Chains wrapped around the handles of the metal doors leading to the locker rooms. The pair continued around the building. Two sets of doors faced the center of the campus. No surprise, both sets of doors bore chains.
Sandbags surrounded the main entrance to the gym. A small opening in the sandbag wall allowed the line to pass a table, now overturned. Toughbooks and radios lay on the ground behind the table. Shell casings rolled underfoot as the pair approached the entrance.
Isaac turned to look toward the parking lot. A line of cars snaked through the lot. Between the sandbags and the cars, maybe a dozen bodies lay every which way on the ground. Nowhere near enough bodies for the amount of casings under foot.
Isaac turned and ran into Eddy. “Lets go back to the car,” Eddy said.
“No. I have to know.”
“I'm sorry,” Eddy said, turning to leave. Behind him Isaac saw chains on all the doors.
They chained the doors to keep them in.
Numbly, Isaac turned, followed Eddy to the car, and crawled into the passenger seat.
Chapter 17
International Business
Eduardo Torres Rivera considered himself a respectable businessman. In some ways he was. He took care of the small army he employed: accountants, distributors, sales people, lots of security, and the like. Really he was a cartel boss, which to most people put him somewhere between a crocodile and a great white shark. When it came to his business he was cold, calculating, methodical, relentless and expansive. He wore Armani suits to work with his trimmed hair swept neatly back.
Like all Mexican cartel bosses, he bribed the judges in the towns where he stored, moved and sold goods. Local police never messed with his men thanks to an agreement he had with the local judge and police chief. Twice he'd “given the police a hot tip” and the legal system took it from there. Thieves were shot, occasionally tortured, but few of his men considered stealing from him.
In his free time, which he had plenty of, he spent time with his family, usually wearing his favorite jeans and a short sleeve shirt open to the second button. His son Celio played football, not that American stuff where you get to use your hands, but real football. Several of the guards played daily and invited young Celio to join them. Theresa, his daughter, spent most of her time with her mother and grand mother learning to cook, reading and making dresses. He loved watching his daughter prance through the house and watching his son show off in football.
Today he couldn't relax if he wanted to. Far too many things to consider. He didn't really doubt the safety of his villa. Zombies on the other hand—absolutely on the surface, the zombies were very bad for business; after all distributors can't do their thing when hordes are trying to eat them. On the morning the riots started spreading, some hijo de puta shot two of his men and took the entire shipment, not enough to seriously hurt his operation, but the audacity.
And there was that gringo who showed up not so long ago and bought a fair amount of guns. Not in Eduardo's normal territory, but the money had been far too good to pass, especially since the estupido cabron way over spent for the amount of hardware he'd asked for.
Did he know this was coming? Did he use the guns I sold to steal from me? He certainly had the cojones, that gringo.
A decently built white man with scraggly blonde hair and a goatee showed up on his door step with just one rather muscular associate and a briefcase. Eduardo's men almost shot the visitor on sight, but when he told them in Spanish that he had a business proposal for the boss, they'd called up. He'd been intrigued enough to invite the man and his associate up to talk. The man haggled strangely. He'd added to the amount Eduardo quoted, “if he could procure the arms quickly and ask no more questions.” Insulting if not for the price. And here, less than three months after the deal concluded, a missing shipment and zombies everywhere.
Eduardo's family never faced any real danger behind the walls of the villa. When the chaos broke, one of his lieutenants mentioned the families of his men, on the other hand, weren't so safe. He told them they could all bring their families to the villa. A few of the local police received invitations as well; never turn down a good recruiting opportunity. The choice had been easy and came with an added bonus of securing his men's unwavering loyalty. No question it made things cramped, but that wouldn't be an issue in another few days.
This morning he'd come up with a bold plan made possible by the zombies creating chaos in the cities. If not for that, the other cartels would descend as a single swarm in retribution for what he wanted to do. With everything going on and so many people more concerned with surviving long enough to reach the city limits, he could expand his territory and his business without anyone to hassle him about it. It would require some ruthlessness, but he doubted most of the men would have a problem with that.
Eduardo planned to acquire a nearby village. Obviously any of the men who objected would be shot, and their women given “jobs”; that applied to his soldiers too. Mostly the villagers would become field hands after they erected solid walls around the village. It takes a lot of labor to grow food and cash crops. The village he had his eye on rested a few short kilometers from the bottom of the hill his villa sat upon. Close enough to provide overwatch; although, building walls to surround the village and fields would take considerable time, seeing as he had no intention of stopping work in the fields while the walls went up.
The question, though, could he spare a couple men to track down the gringo? He called Julio Cavasos his carnal and top lieutenant. They'd known each other and watched each other's backs since their teens when the unlikely pair got swept up as package boys for an older, now defunct cartel. Eduardo got jumped by four guys from a rival family during a routine drop. Julio just happened to be close by, jumping in to keep Eduardo from getting stabbed. A year later Eduardo repaid the favor with interest by saving Julio and his sister from a would-be home invader. Even kept the chingaso alive long enough for Julio to get a little vengeance as well. When Eduardo earned his promotions, he brought Julio with him. Julio in turn supported Eduardo as he built his own business, defending h
im from his former employers.
“Julio, how's your family? And your sister?”
“Carolina and Margarita are scared from the stuff on the news. The girls are blissfully unaware of the rapture.” Julio crossed himself after the last word then sat down across from Eduardo. By ingrained reflex, Eduardo mirrored the gesture.
“Are the girls getting to make more friends?”
Julio nodded. “Si. Several of the wives have created a kind of play area for the younger children, in the pool house away from TVs. The older boys are eager to help out and protect their families.”
“Good. Good. I trust they're being given work?”
“Talking with the under-lieutenants, and we thought we would let a few stand watch to free up more of our soldiers for the village. The rest are being tutored in specialties.”
Julio knew Eduardo was thinking and troubled by something. He waited, knowing Eduardo would speak his mind in a moment. “I'm troubled by the missing shipment. We had that gringo buy those guns so recently. I want a couple Sicarios to find him. I want a word with him.”
“I think we still have a couple guys near the border, but tracking him in all this will take time,” Julio said calmly. “Do you think he's a threat?”
Eduardo smiled his best shark smile. “I think if he crossed me that was a mistake. If he didn't, he still has guns we can use.”
Chapter 18
No PED X-ING
“MINE!”
Erik's rifle barked twice. Two zombies approaching the new wall dropped. He couldn't help be glad most zombies shambled along at the speed of smell. So long as you stayed calm and took your time, head shots weren't nearly as difficult as they would be on normal people. First and Second Squads of Second platoon spread across the four-hundred foot opening to another peninsula neighborhood. Third and Fourth Squads stretched across the road facing the neighborhood. Between them, a platoon of National Guard soldiers worked on a wall similar to the one protecting their own neighborhood. As soon as the National Guard finished the wall of cars, wood, cinder blocks and whatever else they could scavenge, the work crew would retreat to the clean zone to rest. In a day or two, when they were certain clearing the streets and buildings the way wouldn't leave them cut off, they planned to clear the second neighborhood.
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