42
“I don’t know about this, Brass,” Rough Rider nervously says onboard the newly commissioned Double Decker bus. With its military beige paintjob, and vintage style pinup girl on its sides it looks like a bomber, .50 caliber machine guns line both decks earning the bus its name, the Gunship.
“Relax, Rough Rider,” Brass tries to ease the man’s nerves for the fifth time since they departed Rubicon, he doesn’t even look up from the notebook he reads from. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just a part of life. It’ll be over before you know it,” now he has taken to reciting any cliché advice that comes to mind.
“I know, but maybe it’s too soon for this,” the man says, staring ahead through the windshield at the road ahead and the world they rush towards.
“No time like the present. No sense putting it off any longer. We all knew this day would come.”
“ETA, one minute,” Lady Luck says from the driver’s seat.
“Let’s gear up! 5, 6, 7, 8!” Brass says closing his notes, he’s as prepared as he’ll ever be for this.
Their objective comes into view, the bus slows and Rough Rider gets a good look. “Fuck. There’s an awful lot of them,” he mutters to himself.
“You’ll be fine,” Lady Luck assures as she navigates obstructions on the road. “They won’t bite.”
“All right! Let’s do this, people!” Brass hollers for everybody to go through the open door. “Move! Move! Move! Wait…Abby, let me straighten that. Who taught you how to tie a tie?”
“Self-taught,” the taller man bends down so Brass can fix his necktie.
“It shows, and it’s embarrassing.”
“There she is,” Rough Rider spots Peace Maker at the rendezvous amid a crowd of townsfolk. Her white gown blindingly reflects the early afternoon sun but he can’t look away, she’s too radiant in the field of wild flowers and tombstones. “Like a fuckin’ angel,” he whispers to himself.
The new arrivals straighten their formal wear. Brass can see every trace of trepidation has melted away as he watches Rough Rider gaze at his bride-to-be. It makes him smile. “Are we ready?”
Rough Rider tears his eyes off Peace Maker, blinking them as if waking from a dream. “Yup. Thanks for doing this, Brass.”
“All part of the job. Don’t mention it.”
“I know this is tough for you, considering…”
“Don’t mention that either,” Brass says, gesturing for the group to head over and join the rest of the town.
Once everyone has taken their positions, and the murmuring dies down, Brass opens his book. He has practiced this so many times he knows what he wishes to say by heart, but he wishes to have it on hand should he become misty eyed and need a second to collect himself. “Dearly beloved,” he addresses almost every citizen of Rubicon, every soldier, every civilian, and every single sentry they could spare from the posts that surround their territory. “We are gathered here to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Although I cannot brag about bringing these two together, it gives me great pride to marry Wade and Jackie before you all today. They knew one another before the world died, dated briefly and went their separate ways. Then, as if being given a second chance, they found themselves thrown into a sea of strangers. Upon sighting one another’s familiar face it was love at second sight.
“They went through boot camp together. I knew then that this was truly a great pairing. They displayed teamwork that typically takes time to foster, could anticipate one another’s moves, and knew when to lend a helping hand. Everything needed in a marriage.”
Brass has to take a second and glance at his book, his eyes have begun to water. He hopes the assembled haven’t noticed the way his voice cracked slightly when saying the word ‘marriage’.
“Another fond memory I have of the two was actually a difference in opinion we had. I had mentioned my plan to build a pen to entrap wild game; deer, turkeys, geese. They argued that it would take the sport out of it, make it too easy. I had countered with the suggestion that they could always wear a blindfold and make a game out of it.”
The audience chuckles.
“Wade came back with, ‘It would be like shooting fish in a barrel’. To which I said ‘Exactly!’”
Brass must wait for another wave of chuckles to subside.
“Wade told me that we were using the expression differently, I was using it to describe a readily available source of protein. I gave up the idea, let the two of them hunt the old fashioned way. Besides, at that point I was craving fish anyway.”
Another bout of laughter pauses the ceremony.
“In this debate I saw that they should not only soldier for us, but also be appointed to the caring of the animals. They are not only providers, but willing to work hard to do so. You would expect a person that has been tasked with turning a living thing into food to be heartless and cruel, but it actually takes a lot of heart. It takes love.”
The sentiment is allowed to sink in. Brass turns to the man known to everyone as Rough Rider. “Do you, Wade, take Jackie to be your post-apocalyptic wife? To have and to hold, from this day to your last? To cherish and protect with every breath, and all the strength you can muster?”
“I do,” the groom replies, looking deeply into his bride’s eyes as he vows to every word.
Brass intentionally left off the standard ‘sickness and in health’ line as not to damper the joy everyone feels, the last thing folks would want to be reminded about today is what would happen if one of the two should truly become sick. He recites the vow to Jackie, she says ‘I do’ with a smile and a tear rolling down her cheek.
“With the power vested in me by all of you, I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
The couple kisses and the town erupts in applause. Once he finds a brief lull in the clapping and cheering Brass screams over the roar, “I give you Mr. and Mrs. Corbeil!”
The reception to follow, catered by Soul Train, is being held in the school gym. Once the place was cleaned up and decorated it looked very nice, you’d never guess the space was recently used for training. Another round of boot camp was held primarily in the gym, a zombie prom theme gave the couple the idea to hold the party here. They joyfully look at their guests from their table, all the people they’ve come to know and love gathered to celebrate their union.
Remembering her time spent in this gymnasium, under a pile of corpses that writhed crushingly as they tried to devour her through her armor, Vida Calavera almost couldn’t return, now she’s glad she did. The place looks beautiful all lit up, the ordinarily harsh lighting is shining down through balloons and white linen drapery. She stands with her close friend Gabe in the receiving line, waiting their turn to tell Wade and Jackie ‘congratulations’.
Speeches are made, toasts are given. Everyone enjoys the elegant meal their resident chef has prepared. They dance into the night until the newlyweds climb their horses to take off to their honeymoon. The two will be spending a week alone at the town’s newest outpost, the peach farm they recently acquired. It’ll be a working vacation, there’s still a lot to do to get the place functional, work out the kinks in their security system, but it will be just the two of them and that’s all they could ask for.
Not a person involved in the wedding, not a single guest, thinks about the troubles of the world. They are able to get their minds off of the dead and the barbarians for a night. Tonight, they not only celebrate love but also hope, hope for the future. This confirms that one day they may return to a normal way of life.
43
Daily runs for weapons have built a massive arsenal for Kenny and his people, it’s an arms race against the Rubies though the larger, more organized community doesn’t know it. A cache has been found at a small National Guard post that they exploit, taking away trunkful’s as if mining the armory for gold.
He senses his impending ‘Ides of March’ as his interactions with his men become tense, they don’t like how far the Rubies are spreading, the fact that their enemies prosper while they have to scrounge. They must all live in fear while the other side appears to not even notice them, driving around with their music blaring, not at all attempting to be covert.
Along with the amassing wealth of ammo and ordinance, Kenny has been trying to sway them back like a politician, to gain favor over his detractors and be in the good graces of the majority. He gives longwinded speeches on a daily basis all with the same ‘We will prevail’ message. Spotting a large group of his people, the man prepares for today’s address.
“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” he says with forced confidence. “That’s what they used to say. It’s not the case in this fight. Joining them means becoming a mindless zombie. This leaves only the other option. Am I right?”
He waits for affirmation from his people, all of them shouting ‘Right!’ in unison. They don’t.
Perhaps they missed their que
, he thinks as he continues on. “Since this started, I was alone. Alone in this fight. I realized I would always be fighting. There came a point where I was fighting in hope of either outcome, like flipping a coin, victory or a good honest death. Since meeting you all and becoming so close, I’m leaning more and more towards wanting victory each and every day…”
Kenny has paused, hoping the sentiment he intended his statement to have would resonate with them. They all stare at him blankly as he paces among them. “We’ve become more than a group, we’ve become a family. A family with a common enemy. The Rubies!”
That earns him a grumble of agreement. “We hate them!” he improvises and gets a collective ‘Yeah!’ that makes him tingle. “I would take any one of you over a dozen of their kind any day. Rocky, Twitchy, Dirt Bag…Um…the blonde guy…” he struggles to list his people as he looks them in their eyes.
“They think they’re better than us!” he scornfully exclaims. “Well, they’re not. In truth, they’re scared. Why else would they need so many outposts and awesome vehicles? Why else would they need the body armor and organization?”
Though most of his men nod, buying into what he tries to sell them, he himself realizes looking at the dirty faces of his rag tag group of savages that that’s all they are. Savages. He’s aligned himself with the worst element; thugs, bandits, and rapists. He can fool himself no longer, they are the villians.
“Kenny!” one of his guys says, urgently running over.
He hasn’t a clue what his name is. “Hey…Sport…what’s up?” he asks.
“Our spotter just reported in,” the young guy says shaking a hand held radio. “There’s a bright yellow Hummer coming through from the South.”
“All right,” Kenny shrugs off the news. “We’ll keep our eyes on it. Everyone, get the word out, we need to hunker down until it passes. I don’t want them…”
“Kenny,” the condescending voice of Garret, one of Kenny’s few most vocal detractors, interrupts his orders like a parent giving a child a warning. “It’s the military.”
“He said it’s ‘bright yellow’. The military doesn’t own anything bright yellow, that’s ridiculous. Try hiding in that thing, am I right?”
“The only movement we ever see coming from the south is the military,” Garret reminds their leader. “They go to Ruby, then come right back through. And, every time you have us hide like roaches. Not this time.”
Garret has his own idea on how to handle this, an idea he doesn’t share with anyone just yet. “We’re gonna give them something to be scared of.”
####
“They’re no better than gnats, or those annoying little flies that appear in my kitchen every summer,” Brass describes their neighbors to their visitors. “But, they can be unpredictable. Best to avoid them.”
The folks in the yellow Hummer have come from Story Book Land with urgent news, they have a vaccine for the virus, a way for people to die and stay dead. They also bring bad tidings, there’s a new threat on its way. A massive group of the dead that could number in the millions is heading down the coast like a storm. These aren’t the average zombies, these ghouls have been irradiated by a nuclear plant in the northeast. The radiation has soaked into their decaying tissue and may act as a preservative, it has also altered their behavior. They are faster than before, and showing a limited capacity for thought, an ability to problem solve.
Brass has images he can’t shake from his mind, lingering from the video he was shown. He can still hear how the new breed howl, high pitched screams of rage. He has ordered his people to pack up everything, load every vehicle, and be ready to move out in the morning.
“Hey, Abby, is this for real?” Rough Rider asks the young man who has been tasked with getting the word out and pulling in all nonessential scouts and posts.
“Very. Can you get all the animals loaded onto trailers? If you run out of trailers use box trucks and U-Haul’s, I’ll find you drivers.”
“It might save on man power if Peace and I drive the herds on horseback,” Rough Rider suggests.
“No. everyone needs to be inside a vehicle,” Abby replies. “What’s coming is…it’s bad. And, we’ll be heading through bandit territory.”
44
“Everyone, look alive!” Garret shouts. Last night he assumed command of the group without much of a fight from Kenny. All he had to do was claim it. Kenny glumly moved down to the bottom of their unofficial rank structure after being deposed, lower than the women because he doesn’t have as much use as they do, or as Garret put it, ‘fuckability’.
Kenny is not allowed to arm himself as the others prepare for the inbound caravan their scouts spotted. From the looks of it, all of Rubicon is heading their way. Rocky has been assigned to lead a team of men at the northern side of their camp where travelers once were able to enter the rest area from the highway. They have machine guns and rocket propelled grenades, all they need is the order to fire.
“I want the pass blocked!” Garret commands. “Get whatever will roll under the overpass to slow them down.”
“Their scout will be here in ten minutes,” it is reported.
“No one fire! We want the mother lode. Stay out of sight.”
Here’s my chance
, Rocky thinks while getting into position. “Stay low boys,” she tells those under her command.
I can get KB outta here
.
An expression springs to her mind, ‘Sacrifice the few to save the many’, that she ignores planning to do the opposite. She can’t risk letting the Rubicon convoy through, Garret might talk a big game but like most men he’s likely to back down at the last second. Once the impending chaos begins, she’ll have to be ready to slip away.
All eyes are focused down the long straight stretch of road waiting for sight of the scout. Then it happens a dot is inbound, a jeep coming their way fast. Rocky predicts the driver’s reaction to the blockade that has been set up, she figures he will take one of two courses of action; the first, turn around, and the second simply stop and wait for the rest of his people to catch up. Both outcomes will likely yield the same results, them getting slaughtered before she gets a chance to make her move, or the procession making a detour leaving her with no way to save Killer B. Her course of action turns her stomach but she feels she has no choice.
Acting as if she’s listening to her radio, nodding and confirming orders that aren’t being given, Rocky turns to her man holding a rocket launcher. “Fire!” she orders him.
The RPG is fired as the scout slows in the face of the obstruction. The unsuspecting vehicle is struck low, the blast sends it into the air with a deafening explosion.
Everyone’s ears are ringing, slowly Rocky can hear furious shouts coming from her radio through the high pitched residual wail. “Who the fuck did that?” Garret screams.
“Gerry,” Rocky responds. “He got a little overzealous.”
“But you said…” the man begins to say. She stabs him in the throat to ensure he never breathes a word to anyone. Before the other member of her small squad can react and go for his weapon, Rocky is on top of him. Looking into his eyes she slides the knife into the witness, her hand over his mouth to contain his screams of rage and pain.
“Rocky!” the voice calls over the radio. “I asked if everything is all right over there.”
“Right as rain,” she answers cheerfully. “I’ve got Gerry calmed down now.”
“Lotta good it does us, they’re gonna be out for blood.”
“We’ll be ready, boss,” she consoles him as she strips anything useful from the bodies of her men; a couple of guns and some ammo. She can feel the rumble in the ground, the Rubicon tanks approaching. Things are about to get very bad, the Rubies will see their scout has been obliterated, they’ll charge through guns blazing. She plans on being long gone.
Quick and low she dashes for the hotel only to find a glitch in her plan, Kenny is leaving in the Man’s Ruin bus, it was the only vehicle left in the lot since the others have been spread out to deliver guys and guns to the engagement areas. “I guess we’ll be walking,” she says, not letting the hiccup stop her.
In the halls she can feel the rumble in the ground deepen by the second. She lets herself into her room. “KB, let’s go!”
“Go where?”
“I dunno. Anywhere. Move your ass,” Rocky orders her friend.
“We can’t leave the others,” Killer B says.
“Sure we can,” Rocky replies simply. “Fuck ‘em. You feel that vibration under your feet? That’s the Big Bad Wolf coming to blow our house down.”
“I’m getting the others,” Killer B says adamantly.
Rocky groans. “Just hurry the fuck up.” She laces her skates nice and tight. “And, tell them to pack light!”
Rocky waits for Killer B to return with the wives willing to leave, and then for Killer B to lace up. She would have liked to have been long gone by now, as they head for the back exit of the hotel an explosion rocks the planet. The group stops frightened and wide eyed, all except for Rocky who continues to the door. She rolls on leading them out to a narrow alley that connects the back lot to a side road that runs along the highway. They head south. Rocky has an open invitation from the leader of the Rubies, they just need to get to where ever the large convoy is heading. She doesn’t doubt they will be victorious, perhaps a bit worse for wear. The man that called himself Brass will take them in, and if the other ladies joining them are fortunate enough to survive, them as well.
Rocky had told Killer B to pack light, her faithful friend is wearing a rather large back pack, but Rocky doesn’t say anything. Gunfire is being exchanged behind them, she needs to focus on the road ahead. Armed with the small group’s only weapons; an assault rifle, a pistol, and of course her blade, Rocky takes the point position, she needs to be ready for danger. The war that rages will bring the dead down upon them, she can only hope to have her and Killer B clear when that happens. Since Killer B is on skates, Rocky isn’t too concerned with her well-being, the slower moving wives will be easier pickings and their screams will get her attention.
Within the span of just a few minutes the war ceases, the battle ends with an eerie calm. The tanks rumble onward along the parallel route, they can feel the Rubies catch up and overtake them, soon they will be far ahead. Rocky hopes to see some sign of where they ultimately stop, if not she’ll figure something else out. She always does.