Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict Read online

  “Don’t puke on Snowball,” cautioned Lizzy.

  “Her name isn’t Snowball. It’s Rumple. Snowball?” Briana rubbed her eyes with one hand. “She’s not even white.”

  “I thought it was Snowball. And what kind of name is Rumple?”

  “Blame Steph. She’s the one who lets Johnny name and re-name the horses whenever he wants. For all I know this might have been Snowball once upon a time.”

  Lizzy scowled. “I’ll yell at her later. We can’t be calling the things different names all the time. It’ll make the fucking horses schizophrenic.”

  Briana pulled on her hair briefly, then wrapped it into a loose braid which she tucked beneath her hat. “Where we going today?”

  “Just the short circuit around our portion of the forest with a quick check of the highway,” I answered. “Sure you’re up to it? Me and Lizzy are good.”

  “I want out of the castle, especially now that the sun’s shining. You know that won’t last.”

  Lizzy rolled her ample shoulders, working out some kinks. “I’m with you there. I can hardly wait till this crap melts and we get to do some real runs again. I want to see what Chadron and the other towns are like too. I bet tons of roofs collapsed, probably had all sorts of animals move in.”

  “We definitely need to do more comprehensive looting come springtime,” I said, “to get what we can before the buildings rot away.”

  “We have plenty,” countered Briana.

  “Not really.”

  “Yes, we do,” she insisted. “Half the rooms in the castle are filled to the top. We have trucks full of stuff. That semi the raiders brought with them was mostly full too. We can’t use what we have now, not the food anyway. Even if it never expired, we couldn’t get through it all in our lifetimes.”

  “We could, and it is best to have as much as possible.” That was something I firmly believed. Given the circumstances, you could not be oversupplied. “And having choices is always good.”

  “Jacob’s right,” said Lizzy.

  Briana snorted. “You just want to get out of the woods.”

  “Fuck yes! I can’t stand sitting on my ass watching movies from morning to night. It rots the brain.”

  “Works for Mary.”

  “Mary,” began the woman, addressing Briana sternly, “does not watch movies all day long. I won’t let her.” Lizzy grumbled something under her breath. “Most of the time she’s listening to crappy boy band CDs or drooling over their pictures. TV would be better.”

  “Swap her CDs out with polka,” I suggested.

  “She’d love that. Whatever. At least she’s not a basket case anymore, not like right after her sister…” Lizzy paused. “The hurt’s still there. She tries not to show it, but, well.”

  My friend was correct. That sort of pain never goes away.

  * * *

  An hour later we spotted the footprints, a single set of crisp tracks following the highway. Whoever made them had passed by recently.

  “Think they’re a person or a zombie?” asked Briana.

  “Not sure. I don’t think a breather would be out here on foot, not with the weather and all, but it’s possible.”

  “The steps are pretty uneven,” added Lizzy, “but that could be from exhaustion.”

  I nodded. “We’ll follow them. Remember, don’t leave the trees.”

  Neither commented on my endless repetition of rules they knew inside and out. Understand, we never set foot on the highway itself. By keeping to the woods we could tell if anyone else had been by and not worry about our own tracks causing any confusion or revealing our existence.

  We found the man a few minutes later, collapsed beside a thicket of brambles.

  “He’s breathing,” said Briana.

  “You sure?” asked Lizzy.

  “His chest is rising, barely. Be careful Jacob.”

  I had my pistol out, as did Lizzy, while Briana held the horses’ reins. The man seemed to be semi-conscious, his eyes closed but mouth moving as he mumbled something. I couldn’t make out the words.

  “Hey.”

  There was no response.

  “Who are you?” I leaned in closer. “Can you hear me?”

  “I don’t think you’re going to get anything,” observed Lizzy. “Guy’s barely alive. What do you want to do?”

  “We take him back,” stated Briana, firmly, “after you search him and take away any weapons.”

  Lizzy had no objections, so I performed a quick check of his pockets and clothing. All I found was a single knife, a kitchen knife at that, with a dented blade. The fellow’s garb was even more bizarre. He was without a proper jacket, instead wearing two sets of pants, one over the other, and several layers of shirts, most of them T-shirts. It made no sense. What was he doing out here, dressed like this and lacking any real weapons? The guy was wearing sneakers for God’s sake, which were soaked through and covered with ice.

  “Miracle he’s still alive. Okay Lizzy, we’ll put him on your horse, it being the shortest, over the saddle and take turns leading. Don’t want to make you walk the entire way back.”

  “How about I just ride with Briana so I’m not walking at all? Sounds a whole lot better to me.”

  “Not a chance,” I countered. “He’d fall off if there wasn’t someone standing next to him.”

  “Jacob’s right. Somebody should walk beside him,” agreed Briana.

  “Why can’t we tie him to the fucking horse instead?”

  Lizzy was beginning to glare.

  “With what? I don’t have any rope. Neither does Briana, and unless you repacked the saddle bags, I’m betting you’re without too.”

  “Damn it! All right, if you think you can get him up there.”

  That was easy enough. The man was skeleton thin and dreadfully gaunt. He’d clearly been starving.

  “He stinks,” commented Lizzy, shortly after we set off. “I’m talking a whole lot of stink, like stewing in his own shit stink.”

  “Might be sick,” I suggested, hoping that wasn’t the case. Looking at the man, I honestly didn’t know if he’d make it back to the castle, much less live to see the morning.

  We fell silent after that observation, but the respite was brief, A few minutes later Briana’s mare stumbled. With a shriek, she lost her balance, tumbling from the saddle.

  “Briana!” I was off my own horse in a heartbeat. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Landed in the snow. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it probably looked.”

  “Your belly?” asked Lizzy, uncomfortably.

  I was thinking the exact same thing.

  “Nothing bad.” Briana suddenly looked fearful. “I fell on my ass, mostly, and it’s still very early. I’m pretty sure everything’s okay.”

  Thank God. I helped Briana to her feet. She was shaking.

  “I think I will be walking the rest of the way.”

  * * *

  “I am not staying inside from now on!”

  “Sweetie…”

  “Don’t sweetie me Jacob! I won’t do it.”

  “It would be for the best,” said Steph.

  Briana’s green eyes were smoldering. “I don’t need to be watched all the time, or taken care of.”

  “You’re pregnant,” continued the redhead, unperturbed. “We have no doctor, no nurse. None of us knows anything about medicine.”

  “You said you know all about birthing.”

  Steph shook her head. “Wrong. I said I’ve seen animals give birth on my grandmother’s farm. That was it. I didn’t exactly help. Jacob’s right. You might not need to be watched all time, but you have to be careful. You can’t be on horses anymore, especially considering what a lousy rider you are, all of you for that matter.”

  “Hey!” protested Mary. “We’re still learning.”

  She ignored the teenager. “In the snow and cold when you can barely feel your own hands, much less the way the animal is moving, no, it’s no good. Anyway, a bad fall can kill a person. It’s way worse if you’re pregnant. You want to keep that baby Briana?”

  That was harsh, especially considering how Briana had been announcing from the very start that she’d be the greatest mother ever, zombie apocalypse or not.

  “Steph, I will have you…”

  “Enough,” I interrupted. “We’re right Briana, and you know it.”

  “Completely right,” agreed Steph, “whereas you are wrong.”

  “You don’t have to lie in bed doing nothing,” I continued, before Briana could respond to that little observation. “Actually, please don’t. We need everyone to contribute. You can feed the animals and do all the zillions of things we need done in the castle. What you are not going to do is put yourself in a position where you can fall a second time or get hurt out in the woods where you might freeze to death.”

  “Don’t want to be like that poor guy,” said Mary, with a slight nod. She did not look at the newcomer.

  The man was unconscious, possibly in a coma – we had no way of knowing – and splayed out on a table in our common hall. This was in the corner, out of the way and near a fireplace. Lizzy was tending to him, slowly cutting away clothing. Much of the fabric was frozen, in some cases to his skin or hair, and all of it was filthy. It was a delicate process, but we needed to get him undressed so we could address his injuries. They looked to be numerous and severe.

  “You can babysit Johnny,” I suggested.

  “I want you to watch me Aunt Steph,” chimed in the four year old. “Briana’s cranky.”

  Briana spun around. Johnny was sitting near Mary, playing with some matchbox cars and also pointedly ignoring the stranger.

  “I’m not cranky. I’m just a little annoyed right now.”

  His expression said otherwise.

>   “She’s cranky,” I confirmed.

  “Fine. Fine. Fine!” Briana threw up her hands. “I’m taking Johnny to his room. We’re going to watch cartoons.”

  “I want to stay here. It’s cold in my room.”

  “No way pipsqueak,” declared Lizzy. “We have to fix this guy up, and that’s going to be pretty damn gross.”

  “Really? Grosser than he is now?”

  “Lots, but you don’t want to see it,” said Briana. “You’ll just throw up.”

  “Like you do?”

  “I’m pregnant. I’m supposed to throw up. It’s perfectly normal.”

  “Jacob said you puked all over him in bed. Are you supposed to do that too?”

  That was probably not the best thing to share with others, and judging from the look I was getting, Briana was going to press the point later. I’ll likely get another earful when she learns the event has been inserted into this narrative for the entire world, what remains of it, to read. There are times when I am a glutton for punishment.

  “Jacob needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.” She took the boy by his hand. “Let’s go. You can pick the cartoon. Anything you want. And we’ll get some extra blankets so you don’t have to worry about the cold.”

  Lizzy waited until they’d crossed the courtyard and vanished inside one of the townhouses. “Mary, get your scrawny ass up on the wall and take a look around. Don’t come back inside until one of us gets you. You don’t want to be seeing this either.”

  “It is really going to be that bad?”

  “No idea, but you are way too young to be watching us clean this guy up, especially since he’ll be buck naked in a few more minutes.”

  “Please, like I haven’t seen that before.”

  “Oh?” asked Steph.

  The thirteen year old blushed. “I mean on the Internet.” She looked around. “Come on. The stuff is everywhere. You find it even when you aren’t looking. Well, you do. What, haven’t you heard of pop ups?”

  “Was on the Internet,” I corrected. “The Web’s long gone.”

  “And we’re going to be cutting off some fingers and toes,” added Lizzy.

  Mary paled.

  “Frostbite that bad?” I asked.

  Lizzy dropped her eyes. “Worse that we thought. Got a shitload of dead flesh here. Looks kinda like the area around zombie bites, after a few days, all black and nasty.”

  “You don’t think he’s infected, do you?”

  “No way. Guy never would have made it if he was. Haven’t found any bite marks. No fever either.”

  “We should keep watch to be certain,” said Steph.

  “I agree. I’ll stay with him when we’re done. Briana might not let me in the bedroom anyway.”

  “Promise to stick your face between her legs for at least an hour, and she’ll forget about being mad, not that men have any clue. It should keep you out of puke range too.” Lizzy shot a glare at our token teenager. “Mary! Why are you still here?”

  “I’m going.” She pulled on her coat and headed outside. “Don’t be touching things unless you have to. We all know about your loose morals.”

  Lizzy glowered but turned her attention back to the man on the table.

  “Get over here and help.”

  I stepped closer. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Lift him up, so I can slide the last of his clothes off.”

  “He really does reek,” commented Steph. “Damn, he’s skinny too. You can see every single rib.”

  “We’ll take care of that,” I said. “Have to go slow though. Eating anything substantial might burst his stomach. I think that can happen with starving people.”

  “No fucking clue.” Lizzy shrugged. “Check out his feet.”

  “Those toes definitely have to come off,” agreed Steph. “You’re right about the fingers too, some of them anyway. How are we going to do that?”

  They both turned to look at me. So unfair.

  “We tie him down in case he wakes. As much as this is going to hurt, that might just happen. We can use metal shears. And I… I suppose we could cauterize the wounds afterward.”

  “With what?” asked Lizzy.

  “We’ll heat some knife blades in the fire, get them good and hot and then brand it all closed.”

  I’m not going to go into any further detail on the process, other than to say that Kenneth – that was his name – did regain consciousness part way through the process. He thrashed and screamed to such an extent that Mary glanced in to make certain we were okay. She then hurried away to let Briana know that it would best to increase the volume on the television she and Johnny were watching. The only upside was that the man was too weak to break free. He passed out again before we finished.

  * * *

  Despite numerous and extensive injuries, Kenneth recovered faster than anyone thought possible, and he was determined to be of use. It might have been his personality or perhaps gratitude for being saved. Either way, he insisted on doing something to help. Being largely immobile, Kenneth usually sat atop the walls keeping watch, but he sometimes spent time peeling potatoes or doing other kitchen chores instead. It would be a while before he could undertake any real labor.

  We did learn some interesting things however, after he inquired about the slew of motorcycles piled up near the tree line.

  “Those used to belong to the raiders.” Briana adjusted her hat, ensuring it covered her ears completely.

  “Raiders?”

  “That’s what we call them,” I replied. “We don’t know if they had an actual name, as a group I mean. They looked like a motorcycle gang. The majority were on bikes, with a few in trucks, and all of them wore heavy denim jackets with the same sort of patches. Think of the jackets the Hell’s Angels wore back when, that type of thing.”

  “Did they attack without warning, just attacked and tried to kill everyone?”

  “You’ve run into them before?”

  Kenneth shook his head. “Not me, but we had a radio at the ranch in Wyoming. We got reports sometimes, news from the other places and a couple of police stations. I think the police were talking to the army too, but they never called us directly.” He shivered slightly. “We heard about the gangs.”

  “Gangs? As in more than one?” asked Briana.

  “Several, I think. I don’t really know too much. I wasn’t doing any of the radio stuff. Mostly I was outside, working, doing whatever they told me to do. But there were plenty of stories. Apparently… I think they’re true. Anyway, several gangs drive around looking for survivors. Then they kill them, always killing them. Some were caught by the police or talked to – I’m not sure – and supposedly said it was justice because of the way they were treated before the dead came back.”

  “Were they convicts?”

  That idea just popped into my head.

  “Or maybe mental patients?” added Briana. “Bastards are crazy enough, the things we saw.”

  “I don’t know,” admitted Kenneth. “They have a leader. He’s supposed to be their prophet, but the stuff about him is even more rumor than the rest. I don’t know his name, but he was the one who ordered that everyone had to die, except those who’d been like them. Those people get recruited instead.”

  “But you don’t know what made them feel abused or whatever, or what they use as criteria on who dies and who joins?”

  My curiosity was in overdrive.

  “Nothing.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I didn’t really believe too much of it. Sounded like make believe stories.”

  “Oh, this is real,” said Briana, “and don’t you dare say otherwise in front of Steph. Three of them grabbed her a few months back, and… She was okay since they got killed first, but still and all.”

  “We then found another settlement in South Dakota, much bigger and better organized than us. The entire place was destroyed,” I continued. “The dead attackers wore the same outfits as those who assaulted Steph. A few days later, the band discovered us. Not a single word from them. They just attacked.”

  “You lived.”

  “Zombies showed up,” explained Briana, “a whole lot of them, but out of fifty some odd people, only the six of us made it. Really just Steph and Johnny. Me and Jacob, and Lizzy and Mary, were in the woods fighting from there. We weren’t in the castle at all.”