I beached the Robalo on the sandy shore and shouldered my pack. A million frogs and night insects looking for love sang their songs, accompanied by the occasional bellow of a bull alligator. The symphony of river creatures is why I didn’t hear the zombies until they were nearly on top of me.
They came out of the fort in a mad rush. The twilight sky revealed they were dressed in the remnants of Spanish and French soldier uniforms. A group of military re-enactors representing two opposing forces but united now in the quest to take a bite out of my ass. Shit,shit,shit, I ran. I didn’t want to shoot unless I absolutely had to. My M4 was suppressed, but even with the suppressor it was loud enough to alert any zombies in the immediate area to my presence.
They weren’t that fast after being out in the elements for almost a year, but they were fast enough. I headed for the nearest wood line, looking for a tree with branches low enough I could climb. Worst case, I’d pick them off from the safety of the tree and cross my fingers the shots didn’t call any more of them in until I could get away. A picnic table next to a covered pavilion caught my eye. I turned towards it and poured on a burst of speed. A French soldier was only a few steps behind me, and unlike me, he wasn’t getting tired from running for his life loaded down with thirty pounds of gear. I let the M4 hang on its strap, leapt on the concrete table and ran its length before hurling myself towards the roof of the pavilion. If I didn’t make it, it would be over the second my ass hit the ground. I landed on the roof of the pavilion and spread my arms and legs wide so I wouldn’t slide off the loose, storm damaged shingles fell into the waiting maws of the undead that were leaping and snarling below me. I scrabbled up to the peak of the pavilion. I was safe for now, so I took the opportunity to look around from my new vantage point. There was a creek to the west of me, I could see the black water in contrast to the greenery along it, hear the sound of it running over rocks. I didn’t remember seeing it on my map, but that didn’t mean anything. It was so far from my insertion point that I wouldn’t have given it a second glance. My target lay eighteen miles to the southwest. If the welcoming party still clambering to get on the roof with me was any sort of sign, I was in a world of trouble.
I studied the two score zombies gathered below me. They were still reaching for me, gnashing their teeth and keening their wretched wails. That’s the thing about the undead. They have nowhere to be and all the time in the world to get there. They never get bored, never quit. They don’t mind waiting for you to fall out of a tree from dehydration or hanging around while you slow roast inside of a car after you ran out of bullets. Take note, if you travel in zombie country, always save the last bullet for yourself.
They’d been on me before I knew it. The engines of the boat announced me long before I arrived. I saw no option but to take them out. I’d have to risk the gunshots, with any luck the suppressed rifle fire would be absorbed by the sounds of the frogs and insects. Their wailing would pull in anymore of their kind who heard it, the lure of uninfected blood a siren song to their ears.
I started popping heads with the M4, the 5.56 bullets zipped right through their brains and dropped them on the spot. Right before I dropped the last one, he jerked his head towards the stream, something new setting his senses off. I finished him off with a shot to the back of the head, then pivoted my rifle towards the soft glow of a lantern that was approaching from the creek. I lowered myself behind the roofline and peered through my scope. There was only enough light left to silhouette a solitary figure in a small craft of some kind, a kayak or canoe.
“Hey you, I saw the flash of your gunfire. Heard your boat too. Just so you know, I’ve got a dozen men with rifles aimed at your position, so you might as well give up.” The voice was female with a prominent southern accent.
I didn’t respond, so she called out again. “Don’t make me order them to shoot you, or worse leave you for the biters. There will be more coming you know.”
The whole time she’d been talking, I’d taken the opportunity to dig out my night vision goggles and put them on. She was alone in the canoe. I scanned the surrounding area looking for the riflemen she’d threatened me with. If they were there, they were well hidden, and I couldn’t see them.
“What’s to keep me from dropping you where you sit and taking my chances with your men? I don’t think there’s anyone else with you, just a girl out past her bedtime.” I said and shifted my position a few feet to the left in case I was wrong, and someone was aiming at the sound of my voice. My perch wasn’t defensible, but it was all I had.
“Are you alone?” She sounded unsure now that I’d called her bluff. “We haven’t seen an outsider in months. Don’t shoot. We don’t want trouble. I might have exaggerated a little about the men.”
“So now you want to be friends?” I asked. I was right, she was alone. Curiosity had led her to me. Her and her canoe, that meant there were people nearby. I saw the possibilities unfolding in my mind.
“My name is Madi. I’m from Haven. It’s a mile back down the creek. We have food and shelter. You are welcome to join us.” I mulled it over in my mind. I could liberate her from the canoe easily, but it would be a long paddle against the current. She mentioned survivors, something I’d not encountered since crossing the Mississippi. Information like that was valuable to the new government and maybe they had a powerboat I could beg, borrow or steal. I decided to check it out.
“Madi, my name is Rye. I’m just here to retrieve some items from a location near here. I didn’t know there were survivors here. How about you call off your men and take me to this Haven. I’m not here to cause trouble for your people. I have information that I’ll be glad to share in exchange for a meal and a place to rest and I’ll be gone tomorrow.”
“Come on down before more biters show up. I’m taking you at your word, but if you try anything, I’ll turn Big Al loose on you.”
“I’m not a threat to you or your people Madi, I’m just trying to do my job and get back home. Have you heard any other boats come through here?”
“No, just you. Why?” She asked.
“What about an airplane?” Sky diving would be a good option if they had a plane and pilot.
“No. Now come on, it’s dangerous to be out here. If I heard you then so did the zombies and that’s one thing we have plenty of.”
I slid off the roof and made my way over to the canoe. Up close I could tell she was just a girl. I settled my pack in the canoe and stepped aboard. She handed me a paddle and I pushed us out into the canal. I noticed we were moving with the current. This creek was being fed by the St Johns River instead of flowing into it. It was narrow and almost perfectly straight. I realized why I didn’t recall seeing it on the map. It wasn’t here until after the outbreak.
21
Hold ‘Em
Haven
Jacksonville, FL
It only took a few minutes to follow the creek back to Madi’s compound. The glow from her lantern wasn’t bright enough to penetrate the darkness inside the canopy of trees that lined the shores of the canal, so I couldn’t see what was making the splashing noises that accompanied us on the short trip back to her compound.
“What is this place?” I asked Madi while the drawbridge lowered over the moat surrounding the fence. It was double walled, made of lumber and filled with the dirt removed to dig the twenty foot wide moat. Lengths of iron pipe and palm trees braced the walls from inside the compound. In other places stacked cars provided support. It looked solid and well built, but I didn’t see any armament. No machine gun barrels poking out of the deer stands turned watch towers set twenty feet back and spaced every hundred feet along the walls, just a few guards silhouetted in the moonlight carrying an assortment of hunting rifles. It wouldn’t hold the undead back for long when a few hundred thousand swarmed it. They’d fill the moat, pile on top of each other, crushing and grinding one another under foot until their corpses formed a ramp that would let them spill into the compound. These people had been incredibly lucky,
or they had an ace up their sleeve that wasn’t obvious to an outsider.
“We call it Haven. Watch your step going across, stay to the center of the bridge. Some of the big ones will lunge up out of the water and make a grab for you if you get too close to the edge, especially Big Al, he’s never far from the bridge.”
I pulled a flashlight from my vest and panned it across the black water. Red eyes, just above the water line, reflected wherever the beam touched. That answered my question about the splashing I’d heard in the moat. Alligators, lots and lots of alligators, big ones. You can estimate the length of an alligator by the distance between the eyes. The further apart they are, the bigger they are. Some of them were at least twelve footers and I spotted one that had to be pushing fifteen feet easily. That would put him in the neighborhood of half a ton. He must be the infamous Big Al. I was expecting a biker with a shaved head, not a thousand-pound alligator. I stayed to the center of the bridge and hurried across it.
I muttered a thanks to the guy manning the winch for the drawbridge. He ignored me but whispered something to Madi and pointed towards me. I couldn’t make out what was said, but he didn’t seem to like it. She motioned for me to follow her, then led me across the grounds to a building that had a sign in front of it proclaiming it to be the clubhouse for the Heavenly Pines Golf Course, members only. She flipped on the lights in the lobby and proceeded down a corridor to a lushly appointed office. She pointed to a long leather couch along one wall.
“That’s yours. It’s the best I can offer you tonight.” She said. “What are you doing here? Where did you come from?”
“It’s been a long day. I’ll be glad to answer all of your questions in the morning if that’s alright with you.”
“That’s fine but stay in here tonight. It’s dangerous to walk the grounds at night, sometimes the gators find a way in.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Where are you getting the electricity from?” I didn’t hear the hum of any generators when we were outside.
“Solar panels on the roof, but it’s not much. This building and a few of the houses still have power. All the others use candles. We use this place for showering, doing laundry and cooking meals. You can crash here tonight. Zack will want to talk to you in the morning.” She turned to go.
“Zack, is he your leader?” I asked.
“Not to hear the big wigs tell it, but Zack is the one who keeps this place going. We’d all be dead or turned if not for him. You’ll like him. For someone who claims to be too tired to answer questions, you ask a lot of them. You can answer at least one of mine. What happened to your finger?” She pointed at my left hand.
“Cut myself shaving,” I grinned.
She laughed, “Goodnight, Rye.” She pulled the door shut behind her, a few seconds later the lights in the building went out.
I set my flashlight upright on the mahogany desk. The light spread across the ceiling and gave me enough illumination to inspect my lodgings. The desk was a beauty worth more than what I made in a year as a teacher. I eyed the fountain pen lying on the desk. It was a Mont Blanc with gold fittings. I had a client who wanted one. I keep a notebook of items to be on the lookout for when I’m on a job. It never ceases to amaze me at some of the things people want. I made a mental note to ask Madi about the pen. I could have just taken it, in other circumstances I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but so far, I’d been shown nothing but hospitality, so I resisted the temptation. I thought about my pal Pablo back in Carrizozo and wondered if there was a Faberge egg laying around. It would be nice to be out of his debt for once.
The walls were adorned with artwork, I inspected the signatures of the artists, but none of them matched up with the names on my wish list. I yawned, I had bigger things to worry about and I needed the rest. A mini fridge under the desk yielded a bottle of room temperature water and half a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle, jackpot. I found a glass in one of the drawers and poured a couple of fingers worth. I sat in the leather chair and sipped it slowly, relishing the taste of the twenty year old bourbon. The warm glow of the liquor washed over me in a gentle wave. Nothing compares to the good stuff. I finished off the booze in my glass and put the bottle back where I found it, reluctantly, then shed my tactical vest and boots. I kept my t-shirt and pants on though. These people seemed nice enough, but not sleep in my underwear nice.
I took a minute to lock the door and wedge a chair under the doorknob. Tomorrow would be the day I hit the target. I needed to get there first, ahead of Shepard. If Madi was right about no other boats coming through, then I still had a narrow lead. Excluding an air insertion, the river was the best option, Shepard would know that. If I was wrong, I would be forced to hunt him down and take the prize, but I would play the hand I was dealt. Failure wasn’t an option.
It was barely dawn when someone pounded on the door. I’d slept well on the plush couch. Don’t know what the thing had cost its previous owner, but it was money well spent. The room had been relatively cool during the night, the singing of the frogs and insects lulling me into a dreamless sleep.
“Gimme a minute,” I shouted. I shrugged on the vest that held all my goodies, forgoing the heavy jacket for the time being. The heat and humidity were gonna be a bitch outside. I ran my fingers through my hair to restore it to some kind of order and opened the door to find Madi standing there with an impatient look on her face.
She stood in the hallway wearing a pair of cut off overalls over a glittery unicorn t-shirt and pink Chuck Taylor Converse tennis shoes. Her long red hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. I hadn’t paid much attention to her the night before, but she was a cutie. Late teens, early twenties, maybe five foot three, freckles and hazel eyes. She had a three-foot long alligator on a leash and a juvenile ferret poking its head out of the chest pocket of her overalls. The alligator lunged to the limits of its leash and snapped its jaws at my leg.
“Keep that damned thing away from me.” I jumped back as it tugged at its leash. It didn’t look a normal alligator with its grey colored skin and red eyes.
“That’s what she said.” She spit a stream of tobacco juice on the Persian rug that splattered the toe of my boot. I winced, those rugs were hard to come by and always in demand. “Come on, Zack wants to see you, then we’ll get some breakfast. Hope you like grilled iguana and oranges.”
I held up the pen. “Who do I need to ask about this pen I found on the desk? I know someone who wants one like it.”
She shrugged, “Take whatever you want. He’s been dead almost a year and if someone else wanted it, they’d have taken it already. It’s just a pen.”
I scooped up the pen and stuck it in my pack. I hesitated a second then grabbed the Pappy. I held it up and she shrugged. I wrapped the bottle in a shirt and shoved it in my pack. Butcher would pay top dollar for the stuff, if I didn’t decide to keep it for myself.
“Hey, Madi, thanks for the help last night. Lucky for me you came along when you did. This seems like a nice place.” I said.
She shrugged again like the praise was uncomfortable. I followed her outside. In the distance, I could see people already at work in the gardens and groves that had been planted on the greens of the golf course. A group of children ran by us, engaged in a game of silent tag. They all wore smiles on their cherubic faces, but none of them squealed or screamed and their laughter was nearly silent as they flitted around like butterflies.
“I heard your boat, sound carries a long way now. I was hoping you were going anywhere but here, and I could catch a ride. I had to see for myself, I thought we were alone. I mean, I knew there was at least another group out there, somewhere out west, we get bits and pieces of a radio broadcast sometimes, but it might as well be coming from the moon. There’s gotta be others like us too, but there’s no way to go look for them. You think it’s nice here? We’re trapped here. You see those kids? They can’t laugh or be too loud, they know what will happen if they do. The old people are the worst though, no noise discipline at all. Y
ou can hear them on the golf course yelling ‘Fore’ like they don’t have a care in the world Most of them were rich and spoiled and are still deluding themselves that nothing has changed. The men play golf and talk business. The old women dress up and have socials where they reassure each other that this situation is temporary, and someone will be along to sort it out. I was a waitress here, a nobody, trying to pay my way through veterinary school. They still treat me like I’m on their clock. Madi fetch, this, Madi do that. They don’t understand this place isn’t sustainable, or they don’t care as long as they can putter around on their golf carts and feel important. Someday, the zombies will come over that wall and it will all be over. Those old men will still be discussing stock options while they get their faces chewed off. I hate it here, but out there is even worse.” She was on the verge of tears.
“Hey, it’s not all bad. There’s a lot of people out west that survived. That’s where I’m from. The place on the radio, it’s real. It’s thriving. It’s called Lakota and the people in charge there are taking this country back one town at a time. Settlements are popping up all over the place. It’s just a matter of time before people start pushing eastward.” I didn’t know the last statement to be a fact, but I was standing there as proof that it could be done. I didn’t want to see this vibrant young girl lose hope.
“Sometimes we go days without seeing them, but you can always hear the zombies. Other times we can barely hold them off. If it weren’t for the alligators, we’d be dead already. We only have a few guns, not many bullets, and every time someone fires a gun, it just attracts more of them. We stay silent and get by one day at a time. I’m sick of eating oranges and taking lukewarm showers, I was supposed to be enjoying my youth, making bad decisions, going to parties and dating guys who were no good for me. There’s only a handful of boys my age here and all but one are jerks, and he’s no longer available. There’s more of us girls than there are boys so they think we should compete for their attention. I know I should be grateful to be alive, but my life sucks, but it’s not your problem. Why are you here anyway? Disney World isn’t opening back up anytime soon.” She let out a halfhearted chuckle, her embarrassment at letting her guard down brought a blush to her cheeks.
Road to Riches: Deadline: Book 1 (Zombie Road) Page 16
