The night was completely still. An owl hooted as a gentle breeze passed through the palo verde trees. It was a sliver of a moon and a doe and her two fawns looked on the scene before them, unfazed. A coyote howled in the distance. The stars glimmered, unhindered by the city lights that had blocked them out in the previous world.
The peace was interrupted by shouts. Then a scream. In an instant, Obevens was awake with knife in hand. He had stolen the weapon and kept it hidden. He looked around and realized he was alone. The others who’d been sleeping on the ground near him, Dalbec and some of Sara’s guards, were gone. Peering into the desert, he could make out shadowy figures running away into the blackness. He froze. In the dark he was nearly invisible, and he wasn’t about to start any fights. He would just keep to the wall for protection until he saw an opportunity to escape.
Some more shouts. Now gunshots. More people ran off into the darkness ahead of him. They looked smaller than adults. Children? Shots lit up the night far to his right, and he could see the outline of unharnessed zombies in the cactus coming toward the wall. Obevens didn’t like the thought of that. He stayed still and hoped the chaos and movement around him would draw their attention. More shots were heard in the distance, surely too far off to be Sara’s men.
A new sound erupted. It was thunderous. A brilliant flash of light briefly illuminated the desert as far as he could see. Another burst followed it but further off. Suddenly Obevens was dogpiled by a writhing mass. He shoved it off as teeth snapped inches from his face. He stabbed the zombie in the forehead and heard more of them hissing at him as they approached. Jumping to his feet, he grabbed the top of the six foot wall and pulled himself up and over it, landing awkwardly on his feet, as he lost balance. Two shots sounded off, and rock shards exploded from the wall next to his head. He fell backwards into the wall. He pushed off from it and raced toward the nearest structure, barely visible in the starlight. Another shot pierced through the air, but seemed aimed elsewhere. He reached the building and slid to the ground against it. Heaving, he scanned the area around him. Suddenly a man came running around the corner of the wall and tripped over Obevens. Obevens grabbed the man’s arm and pinned him to the ground, driving his knife into his back. The man barely emitted a sound before going motionless and silent. Obevens turned him over. He recognized the clothing as belonging to an Academy soldier. He grabbed the man’s pistol, and some extra magazines.
“Sorry, and thanks,” he said to the dead man.
Shots popped off in the distance from some other firefight. Obevens strained to see a clue for which way to go. All was black except for the vague outlines of crumbling buildings. He saw another figure come over the wall against the silhouette of the stars. The figure came toward Obevens. He raised his pistol, but whomever it was ran by without even noticing him.
This sucks! He reprimanded himself for complaining. Find a way to lessen the suck, Obevens!
After an hour, the shooting dwindled and then finally stopped. Still, Obevens dared not move from his position. He knew there were eyes everywhere; he could feel them. Patience. Some of the defenders of the fort might have technology to see at night, too, as indicated by the accuracy of the shots fired at him when he jumped the wall. Paranoia? As much as he hated it, his best chance seemed to be sitting still. Suck. He longed to run for the wall, jump it, and go deep into the desert. Freedom. Ellie. It seemed too risky…but he might not have another chance. Do it.
He strained to see in the darkness. Slowly turning his head to the left, and then the right. Nothing. The wall was close, so close. Rustling up the needed courage, he stood and bolted toward the wall, pumping his arms. A shot cut the silence, and he heard it whiz by his ear. He pumped his arms and kept running as another shot flew over his head. He jumped up and grabbed the top of the wall, flying over to the other side and landing into the dirt and hurting his shoulder. Made it!
He tried to stand, as he heard steps running toward him.
A kick to Obevens’ head put him out of action.
***
The sun rose over the horizon, and Sara grumbled, “Finally.”
Sara slowly sat up and walked to where the prisoners were held inside the wall. She hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before, and her head was throbbing. She was cranky.
Lined up against the wall with their hands and feet tied were the women and children they’d caught trying to escape from a secret tunnel outside the perimeter wall. The defenders of the fort had initiated an attack, probably as a diversion, while the nonfighters made an escape. Many got away, but once Sara’s soldiers had noticed what was going on, they were able to wait outside the secret tunnel and grab those that came above ground, about fifty people in all. She’d sent men to inspect the tunnel, to see if it led into the main complex, but an underground explosion had closed it off for good. No matter. Sara could work with what she had.
A biter with the end of a six foot branch tied to its neck for easy maneuverability was brought to her. She wheeled it around to the nearest woman. As it grabbed for her, the woman stood fast, refusing to scream. Sara respected that. She brought the zombie in for the bite, then moved to the next woman in line. She looked less confident. Younger.
“Scream,” Sara commanded. The young woman shook her head, biting her lip. Sara lurched the walker toward her yelled “Scream!” The young woman screamed “No!” as the walker sunk its teeth into her neck. She let out a gurgling cry and slid down the wall to the ground, barely conscious. Now the rest of the prisoners were shouting and screaming. Sara moved down the line one by one, until she heard a loud “Stop!” from a man running from the interior of the fort toward her. Sara paused with the walker and motioned for her men to grab him when he got to the wall.
She was in.
***
“I wish Obevens was here to see this. It’s beautiful,” Sara said, admiring the expansive armory within the underground complex. It had taken a few hours and some negotiating, some more bitten prisoners, and a frantic father to get the location of the tunnel entrance. The weakness of these men was their loved ones. To Sara, this storeroom was a sight that inspired true love.
The walls of the armory were stocked with hundreds of military-grade weapons. Metal boxes of ammo filled another room. She grinned. This had been worth it.
There had been only 250 men protecting the facility. She admired their bravery and tenacity in holding out against a larger force. They had taught her a lesson in understanding the terrain before you fought. She had lost nearly five hundred men, and Obevens was missing in action—probably escaped. She now held about a hundred men, women and children as prisoners, having added some men after they surrendered. She was unsure what to do with them, and whether she’d gotten them all.
She inspected another room that had dried food, medical supplies, and clothing. One of her men scoffed that there was even a library, which caught her attention. She made her way there and began scanning the disintegrating volumes. An extensive drawer system housed various maps. She sent for Bowen.
Most of the maps were nothing new to her. One of them caught her eye, though. It was covered in handwritten notes and had been drawn on. It was titled “Mexico City.” It showed a large urban area surrounded by mountains, but someone had shaded in large amounts of the city with charcoal and written wadder. She gathered it and the other maps and took them back to her tent, which had been thoughtfully erected for her by Dalbec on the outskirts of the fort inside the wall.
Obevens stirred awake with a ripping headache. He was lying under a tree with his hands and ankles bound. Two surly men stood over him with semi-automatic rifles. Obevens looked around and saw a dozen other similarly unpleasant looking men positioned nearby.
“He’s awake,” one of them said.
Another man came over and scowled at him. “All right, let’s do this.”
Sara was totally absorbed with the map of Mexico City. She had previously seen the city on a map of the Western hemisphere but had paid little
attention to it. In her experience, what had been a large, important city before the outbreak rarely meant anything in this day and age. In additional, her goal was the coast, not the interior. As she looked at the map of the city and read the scribbles, however, she got a picture of an enormous city that commanded all power in the region. A sick feeling was rising in her stomach. This city would foil her plan to take a beach somewhere in Mexico.
The handwritten notes spoke of incredible wealth, a huge population, and a city completely free of the undead. She deduced that wadder meant water.
According to the drawing, the entire city was surrounded by a large lake. This meant Mexico City was an island in the middle of the mountains. She laughed at the idea. Another comment mentioned the temperate climate and that it was never too hot or too cold. Sara was enthralled. Maybe she wasn’t foiled. A place without the undead sounded weak to her. The undead were the strongest weapon available. Sure, she hated them, but she would take full advantage of them before destroying them.
Sara thought. If she could conquer this city, as she had done this fort, then she would be completely free to take whatever warm territory she wanted down south. There would be no other power but hers.
“Ma’am,” a guard called her from outside the tent.
“Interruptions, always interruptions,” she mumbled loud enough for him to hear. “What can I do for you?” She still hadn’t looked up from the map. There was a small note on it under the title “Mexico City.” It was a strange word that she had no idea how to say. It read “Tenochtitlan.”
“A messenger is here to see you. He says they’ve found Obevens.”
“Obevens,” she repeated absentmindedly.
She stepped out of her tent and looked the messenger over. He appeared apprehensive.
“Is he dead? Just spit it out,” she snapped, suddenly feeling her sleepless night intensely.
“The enemy has him. They want to talk.”
Sara followed the messenger to the west side of her camp and the man pointed to a nearby hill about three hundred yards away. It was far off but clear as day. On it stood twelve men. Obevens was with them. One of the men stood behind Obevens with a gun to his head.
“Well, Captain, what have you gotten yourself into?” she muttered, grabbing a canteen and taking a long swig.
“They want to do a prisoner exchange,” the messenger said. “They will return the Captain in exchange for all the prisoners.”
She swore impatiently, then called for someone to get her Bowen. “How important do they think Obevens is?” she scoffed. Bowen arrived. “Can our snipers hit those little pricks?” She gestured to the hill.
Bowen squinted his eyes. “Not without losing Obevens.”
“Then what do you think, Bowen?” Sara asked.
“I won’t lie. Obevens is important. He knows a lot about the world beyond Colorado Springs. The further we go south, though, the less he will be familiar with the land,.”
“You are so brutally practical, Bowen. But even if he knows nothing about the southern lands he knows how to improvise. My men have spent their lives inside walls. That isn’t true of him.”
“He is valuable, ma’am. The question is how valuable are those prisoners?”
“It’s a matter of establishing authority, really. I can’t just hand them over.” She thought for a moment. Then it struck her.
The Academy messenger strode purposefully to the enemy position. Obevens still had a gun at his head and was looking a little ill.
“Ms. Academy says the prisoners are free when you send Obevens down with a knife,” the messenger stated. “The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be. If anyone but him comes down, everyone dies.”
“What?!” the Western leader snapped.
“That’s what I’m supposed to tell you,” the messenger said quickly, turning to leave before the man asked more questions or got any angrier.
“What does she mean, give you a knife? Does she want you to kill yourself?” the Western leader said.
Obevens made no response.
The Westerners looked down on the Academy position. They were busy. They had brought all one hundred prisoners out and lined them up single file. Soldiers began to rapidly tie the arms of the prisoners around the waist of the person in front of them. This created a train of prisoners who could not free themselves of each other.
The Western leader gawked at the odd ritual playing out in front of him. “What madness is this?” he thought aloud.
“She is insane.” Obevens said, looking as though he might vomit. He was having some trouble standing and knew he needed water.
An Academy soldier led a zombie over and let it bite the man in the back of the line.
“What?!” the Western leader shouted, aghast. He wanted to charge down and murder all these barbaric monsters. There were a thousand rifles trained on him, though. A blind charge would be suicide. He began pacing. If he let Obevens go, he and his men would surely be gunned down by the snipers aiming at his position.
About five minutes passed, and the person in the rear began to turn. The person in front of them began screaming as he was repeatedly bitten from behind. It wasn’t until now that the Westerners fully understood how this would play out. As every person turned, five minutes later they would bite the person in front of them until all were turned.
The Western leader threw his gun on the ground and screamed at the Academy forces below him. He was helpless and knew it. He drew his pistol and put it to Obevens’ temple. He was breathing heavily and kept looking down at the scene below. He cocked his pistol. Another five minutes passed, and the new biter bit the person in front of him. The first people to be turned had been men, but now he could see women coming up in the queue. The Western man let out a fierce cry as he lifted his pistol into the sky and fired. He put his pistol back into his holster and drew his knife and handed it to Obevens.
“Go!” the Westerner yelled.
As Obevens stumbled down the hill to save the next person in line, Sara turned to Bowen.
“What should we call this?” she asked.
“I’m sorry?” Bowen replied.
“Zombie Train… Biter Countdown…No, those aren’t right. I just feel like it needs a good name,” she said.
Bowen watched while Obevens stabbed the forward most walker in the head and cut the bonds off its wrists. This freed all the still-connected humans to begin slowly shuffling toward the Westerners on the hill as they cried out at their newly found freedom.
“I suppose it isn’t that important we name it,” Sara mused. “Whenever you’re ready, General.”
Bowen gave the order to open fire.
Chapter 5
The next few days passed without incident.
Nonetheless, John had a strange feeling they were being followed. Camila seemed to sense it, too, and kept a keen watch. Mark knew his father was tense, but didn’t want to ask why. Rosa’s expression never changed. Nothing but stone-faced disinterest in everything around her. John wondered what had happened to the girl, but didn’t ask.
They fell into a daily routine. They woke early and checked in with whoever had watch during the night. If they had food, they split it up to fuel the day’s walk. Then they struggled through the claustrophobic jungle, always covering fewer miles than they had hoped.
Whenever the trees and topography allowed, they looked far to the east, catching glimpses of the carnage below—destroyed structures, walker herds, fires, biters feasting on corpses.
John wondered why more people didn’t try coming to the high places. In his experience that was the way to escape the undead.
“People will flee to Tenochtitlan, not the mountains. There are defenses there,” Camila told him when he asked.
“Isn’t it a long journey?” Mark asked, ducking under a low branch covering the path.
“What other choice do they have?”
John considered that. They might have no other choice, themselves. Camila continually assu
red them they could catch a boat and sail to the coast of Guerrero, but John had doubts. Already the herd had moved north of their position. Trekking through the mountains was slow, even slower than the progress of the herd on open ground. When it came time for them to drop into the lowlands and make for the port he knew the countryside would be crawling. He brought this up to Camila but she brushed his concern aside.
Until then, the hills provided their protection. So far, no walkers had reached their elevation, but all it would take was some fleeing people leading them into the mountains to change that. He talked to Mark about this and how, if needed, they must be prepared to fight their way through.
“Remember how we used to lure zombies into the trees by the pond back home?” John asked Mark.
Camila smiled wistfully at them. She wished her father was still alive.
“I do,” Mark replied.
“Well, keep remembering.”
John hadn’t thought of home in a while. He tried not to. The feelings of regret and guilt were too strong. Martha and Aaron. Was Aaron even alive? John pushed the thought aside and focused on what was at hand.
They walked three more days. John managed to kill a deer with his new bow, and they ate their fill that night. As with the horse, they weren’t able to deal with all the meat. John hated wasting the meat but there was no other choice.
Despite their continual anxiety, there was no sign of anyone following them, and Camila relaxed a little. John didn’t share her optimism about what was ahead, though, and they were disagreeing with increased frequency. He hoped she was right about the boat, but didn’t think she was.
100 A.Z. (Book 2): Tenochtitlan Page 4
