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Authors: TW Brown

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BOOK: Dead: Winter
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On the heels of that epiphany came a sense that perhaps that was the reason Melissa had become so pissed. Nobody saw the walking dead as a threat anymore. They were being relegated to “pest” st
a
tus. I don’t know when this happened, but it was a dangerous mindset. Despite what everybody seemed to think, zombies were still as dangerous as they had always been. Their bite still meant death…mostly.

Yes, on the rare occasion somebody showed immunity, most recently Jamie Blossington had been bitten. It was put on me to take him out in the woods like Old Yeller and put a bullet in his head. Thankfully, he hadn’t turned. In a strange coincidence, he’d contracted food poisoning during that same time, so it was a
s
sumed that he was dying. Man am I glad we got that one wrong.

Once the zombies were dispatched I headed out to the stream where Teresa and Fiona were sho
w
ing Brad the finer points of doing laundry. Even from a distance I could see their hands a bright red from the icy coldness of the water. We’d had a few dustings of snow already, and while today was an unseasonably warm one with temperatures in the forties according to the the
r
mometer just outside the door to our visitor’s center-turned-home, the surrounding mountains and foothills were sporting fros
t
ed tops of dazzling white.

“Be alert, a pair of shamblers just wandered into camp,” I said in way of greeting the trio.

“Pair?” Teresa scoffed. “Better sound the alarm.” Her co
m
ment was greeted by chuckles from the others.

“Yeah,” I said, letting that word hang for a minute. “Well we need to keep our guard up. It only takes one to ruin your day.”

“You worry too much, Steve,” Teresa sniped.

And none of you seem to be worrying enough
, I thought.

 


“Papi?” Thalia and Emily stood with their hands clasped behind their backs. I looked past them to Jesus and Jake Beebe who were both trying to be inconspicuous…and failing miserably. I mean, rea
l
ly? Jake was actually staring skyward and whistling!

“What is it, sweetie?”

“Can me and Emily go with Jesus and Jake to check the tripping lines?” Thalia blurted without a breath and very little pause between each word.


Trip
lines,” Emily hissed. “Not Tripping.”

Thalia shot an apologetic glance the older girl’s direction. “Trip lines,” she repeated.

“You mean into the woods?” I looked past the girls to the two former soldiers. Jesus gave a slight shrug and patted the a
r
senal of blades and bludgeons hanging from his belt or strapped on in every conceivable location.

“Jake says we can learn how to set the wires if you say so,” Emily added, obviously seeing my r
e
luctance. “He says we should be trained in every form of…” She glanced back at the men like a stage actor who had forgotten a line. “Perimeter d
e
fense,” she repeated the words she saw Jake mouth.

“Wait here for a second,” I told the girls. I hobbled past them to the two men.

“Do you really think it is wise to bring those two out into the woods?” I challenged.

“You’ve said it yourself,” Jesus countered, obviously pr
e
pared for my skepticism, “these ain’t the Old Days. Those girls already shoot better than probably half the population of the country
prior
to the outbreak. The more they know the better.”

I scowled at the use of my own logic being tossed in my face. “Fine,” I said after a moment of stewing, “but I want them back in the camp
before
dark.” The squeals behind me let me know they’d both heard.

I stood there watching them leave, my eyes barely daring to blink until they vanished into the trees.
Of course
I had a bad fee
l
ing about it. Trained military men or not, I was letting
my
two little girls venture out into the woods where anything could be lurking without me there to protect them.

 


 

“…then Jake let me string a trip wire for a line of flares!” Emily hardly took a breath between each word as she described the events of their excursion. “And when the two zombies came, Jesus took their legs out and let me point blank one!”

My head snapped around so fast I heard the tendons in my neck pop in protest. “Excuse me?” All the conversation at the dinner table ceased. Emily’s mouth closed with an audible click of teeth.

“It wasn’t any big deal,” Jesus spoke first. “The zoms looked like originals…one of them didn’t have a shred of clothing except for the band of his skivvies. I chopped the legs and let Emily hit it with the spiked club. She did a damn fine job, too. Only took her three swings to crack the egg.” He gave the girl a playful tussle of her hair, ignoring the fact that I was so pissed I could feel the flames crawling across my face.

“Jake said he wanted me tested for stair roids,” Emily said with what was obvious pride, despite not knowing just what he had meant by such a comment.

“What in the hell were you thinking!” I finally found my voice…and apparently the volume knob. A few people actually jumped in their seats.

“I was thinking,” Jesus looked up at me with unapologetic eyes, “that these two girls need to be able to handle their bus
i
ness.”

“You don’t get to make that call!” I snapped.

“Whoa,” Jon Saunders, the Marine sergeant who had joined our group, bringing Jake Beebe and Jesus Sanchez with him, raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Now I’m sure Jesus made certain that there was no danger.”

“When did zombies stop being considered dangerous?” I blurted. “Everybody seems to just think that things are all good in the world now. Those things wiped out most of human
i
ty…we are the lucky few who still survive. Has everyone forgotten that horde that almost overwhelmed us a few weeks back?”

“Nobody has forgotten anything,” Jon said in his too-calm-for-his-own-good voice.

“And if you are so damn concerned about the zoms, you should want the girls to be able to hold their own,” Jesus added.

“Just playing with wooden swords and shooting paper targets ain’t gonna help,” Jake piled on. “Cracking the skull on one of those things is just not something a person can simulate. Teaching the girls not to see those things as anything human takes exposing them to the real thing in order to make them see them as monsters. It means stripping away fear and replacing it with the desire to survive.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I fumed.

“Steve,” Dr. Zahn leaned forward, “perhaps we can discuss this a little later.”

I followed her meaningful gaze; Thalia and Emily both looked like they were on the verge of tears. At some point, both girls had moved away from me and were now huddled against Meli
s
sa.

“Weren’t you just saying something about us not taking this stuff with the zombies seriously?” Teresa ignored Dr. Zahn’s glare.

“What does that have to do with those two,” I pointed at Jake and Jesus as I pushed away from the table and struggled to my feet, “taking my girls out and risking their lives needlessly.”

“You can’t have it both ways,” Melissa piped up.

Great
, I thought,
let’s put our dirty laundry on the table for everybody to sniff.

“I didn’t risk anybody’s life,” Jesus met my eyes with his own unblinking stare. “I watched over them like they were my own
hermanitas
.”

“Do you really think we would put the girls in danger?” Jake added.

“You took them into the woods!” I exclaimed. “That isn’t putting them in danger?”

“We took them in to a controlled situation,” Jesus said calmly. “Had there been the slightest i
n
clination that something serious might happen, one of us would’ve brought the girls back while the other dealt with the problem.”

I wasn’t stupid. Basically he was letting everybody know that if a bunch of zombies showed up, one of them would be staying behind as fodder to allow the other to escape. Well bully for them!

“You had Emily bash the head in on a zombie.” I started to come around the long table we all used during the evening meal. “You don’t think that was dangerous? Could you please define just what the hell qualifies?”

“Steve,” Jon cut me off, “I think you’re making something out of nothing. You have been saying for the past few weeks that we need to take this stuff more seriously. I think that includes the girls.”

“They are not soldiers!”

“You can’t have it both ways,” Jon replied with a shrug. “They have to be able to take care of themselves should the sit
u
ation arise.”

“And we have been working with them,” I argued. “They can shoot, pick out edible plants in the woods…there is no hurry to make them into warriors.”

“Nobody is making them in to anything, Steve,” Jake piped in.

I was beginning to feel like I was being ganged up on and it was
really
starting to piss me off. “Then what in the hell was Emily doing bashing in a zombie’s head?”

“We told you,” Jake sighed. “Jesus took the thing’s legs out. It was just laying on the ground like road kill.”

“Last I heard it wasn’t the legs that killed you.”

“Steve.” Dr. Zahn placed a hand on my arm; when in the heck did she get there? “I think there is some validity to your concern, but I also think that those two boys wouldn’t allow harm to come to the girls. This is something else.” I spun to face her. “Melissa came to see me this afternoon.” I turned to see Melissa leaving the room, Sunshine on her heels.

Does everybody have to know our private business?
I wondered. And what if they did? I am pre
t
ty sure I can’t be the only person that feels that it would be important to survive even if it meant…

“I think we need to have a group meeting,” Dr. Zahn said, snapping my attention back to her. “We have two pregnant women in our group and, like it or not, it affects us all. We have survived this long by taking precautions, by planning, and by using our heads. The weather is now part of the equ
a
tion, and so are the two mothers-to-be. We have always been at our best when we act as a group.”

“I also think that Thalia and Emily need to be present,” Ian added.

I was going to have whiplash after this evening. It took me a second to realize that my mouth was wide open. I closed it with a click that made my teeth hurt.

“Sorry, Steve,” Ian apologized. “I know you think those girls are your sole responsibility, but that just isn’t true. You are their primary caretaker, but…and I know this is gonna sound cliché, but those girls are being raised by the village old What’s-her-nuts was always yammering about.”

I’d heard enough. Damning my cane as it made a complete mockery of my exit, I did my best to storm out. I heard a few “Let him be” and “He just needs a minute to cool down” comments being made as I shut the door and stared out into the darkness that seemed to swallow the world at sunset lately.

A cold breeze reminded me that I hadn’t bothered with a jacket, or even long sleeves. I made my way down the stairs and onto the gravel. I took two steps when I heard it, the low moan of one of the undead. It was impossible to tell exactly where it was coming from or how far away it was. Sound ca
r
ried in e
n
tirely different ways now that the world was dead.

BOOK: Dead: Winter
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