Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End (37 page)

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Authors: Daniel Cotton

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BOOK: Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End
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“I was the zole zurvivor, actually,” she answers him, masking the pain of the night with a smile.

Carla gives an upward nod of her head at Dan to let him know she is about to ask him a personal question. “What’d the doc say?”

Dan is uncomfortable speaking of it when not alone with her, but since nothing specific has been said he answers. His right hand nervously fidgets with his wedding ring. “He was speechless. That’s to say he had no idea how it’s possible.”

“Think it was smart to tell him?”

“He’s a doctor, there’s that whole doctor/patient privilege, right?” Dan says, looking around to see if soldiers are coming for him, trying not to act as paranoid as he feels.

“That was a concept in the world before,” Carla reminds him. “I see you haven’t told Heather yet. Twirl that thing anymore and your finger’s gonna fall off…Well, I guess that wouldn’t really be an issue for you. That’s a sign of marital discourse, you know?”

“I can’t tell her. Like she needs more stress with another baby on the way,” Dan says, his paranoia abated for now. “Currently she’s more worried about you to notice…it. What are you up to?”

“Shooting. The Coasties took Killian’s M-16. Can he borrow yours?”

“Of course,” Dan says. Since the arrival of the Rubicon people the Army has relaxed their gun control laws allowing those from New Castle to access theirs easier. The two younger individuals sense the secret undertones of the conversation and have wandered off together to look at what’s inside a wooden crate Carla has on a dolly. In a whisper Dan asks, “So, how are you all getting along?”

His former Sheriff knows he means between her and Oz’s ex-wife. “Tense at times, but we’re holding it together for the kids.”

“Hey, Carla!” Kelly Peel skates past with the blonde refugee from the barbarian camp.

“Hiya, Kelly,” she calls back. “We should get some skates.”

“I’ve never tried, probably fall on my ass,” Dan says pondering the notion. He watches the two skaters as they weave effortlessly down the street. The blonde has to stop to adjust her laces, bending over to reach her ankles at the end of her long legs. Kelly Peel plops herself on a bench letting her own bared legs get some sun. “I don’t know. Perhaps after my foot is done growing back I’ll give it a try.”

He turns back to Carla and realizes she hadn’t meant for the two of them to get skates, but her and his wife, who is standing right behind him. He freezes like a deer in headlights. He isn’t sure what he’s in trouble for but knows it isn’t good, for allegedly gawking at pretty girls, or the fact he had just spilled the very beans he had asked Carla not to. His eyes go to his Sheriff but she’s no help, her hands are covering her mouth to contain the shock.

“You’re foot is growing back?” Heather asks her husband.

“Yes…a bit,” he answers her, actually relieved he doesn’t have to explain that he was only thinking about roller skates and not the girls in them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you, or make you think you married some sort of freak lizard man.”

Carla leaves them to their discussion to rejoin her step-son. Kelly and Killer B are rolling over talking about music. Heather and Dan wait until they pass to speak.

“So, the rooster song is about an actual rooster?” Killer B asks.

“Yup, damn thing was the bane of my existence when we visited my grandpa’s farm. I wrote it when I was nine after it bit me.”

Killer B recites lyrics in her head, the version the producers wanted Kelly to sing. “So, when you sang about choking it, you really wanted to choke it.”             

“Can I see it?” Heather asks once the ladies move away from them.

“Of course,” her husband says. “But, not here. Let’s go to the beach.”

They begin walking towards the boardwalk, but aren’t as alone as they would have liked. Carla and Killian push their box in that direction with Vida in tow. Kelly and Killer B are also heading towards the beach but are rolling slightly faster than the rest.

“I should have noticed your limp was getting better,” Heather says.

“I’ve been faking it for weeks,” Dan admits. It feels good to get the truth out in the open between them and off his chest.

“This is a good thing, right?” Heather asks, she locks arms with him to let him know it’s all right. “We should be happy. Why aren’t you happy?”

“I’m afraid of what it might mean. I’m afraid of losing you,” he levels with her. “I’m not used to being unusual, magic blood, now regenerating body parts. I miss being ordinary, I miss the routine, get up, go to work, all day longing to come home to you, go to bed, do it all again.”

“Some would call that a rut,” she squeezes his arm.

“It was heaven. Did you think it was a rut?”

“Some spontaneity would have been nice,” she admits to him. “As hard as it was to have you off and in danger during our New Castle days, I liked that you were out there doing good. You always came home to me and the boys.”

“I think a zombie apocalypse may have been more spontaneous than you had wanted,” Dan jokes. He’s suddenly nervous as they find a spot to sit, now he has to actually show her his foot. At one of the benches along the boardwalk he aides his wife in sitting, at the beginning of her third trimester she’s having difficulty sitting and standing. At her side he braces his trepidation with a sigh.

He removes his sock, noticing that it looks more developed now than when he had shown the doctor not long ago. “Surprise,” he says to her as she takes a closer look. The buds of toes are now actual toes, like those of a small child on a grown-up’s foot. He can’t meet his wife’s eyes.

With a finger under his chin, she makes him meet her gaze and kisses him. The kiss tells him everything will be all right, and that she loves him.

“In about a week it should be back to a size 11,” he jokes. He holds her tight as they sit in silence enjoying the view of the ocean.

The girls on skates leave Carla and Killian to their plans and gracefully roll elsewhere. The young man is blushing fiercely. Carla has seen this with Sid, who also has a crush on Kelly Peel.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she tells him. “You held your own when talking to her. Guys older than you have fared far worse with me. At least you managed to keep your eyes on hers.”

The redness in his face fades. He likes having Carla, she’s like a second mom, his cool mom. He and Hippo can talk to her about anything and she doesn’t censor herself, she just tells it how it is.

“Come on,” Carla puts her arm around him. “Let’s go put some holes in some cans.”

7

 

New life has sprung up around the theme park, the living come and go through the gates like ants, building and expanding their territory. They work to reclaim strategic locations that they clear of zombies, and then they take the streets. They block off roads and alleys to make safe avenues of travel.

Expanses of chain-link are bolted to buildings to seal off the safe zone, high profile vehicles and box trucks are parked against the partitions to reinforce them and give the living high ground to protect the site.

Each small leap is just a drop in the bucket considering the miles they have to go, but that bucket will eventually fill up in time. Volunteers from the Army and New Castle hold the reclaimed area while the Rubies conquest forward. They need to maintain a strong human presence to keep the New Breed at bay. The dreaded dead have been rather elusive, displaying at least some glimmer of cognition. It isn’t fear but survival instinct.

Abby tries to plan a few steps ahead of their progress, knowing where they will strike next before they have fully locked down their current yardage. They are cutting a path through the city, a path that will stretch beyond and all the way to the Gulf of Mexico. From there they can proceed down the peninsula once the line in the sand is drawn.

Clopping hooves echo as two horses stomp casually along the asphalt. Rough Rider and Peace Maker are patrolling the corridor and are on their way back to the gates.

“It’s so nice to be able to ride in the open again,” Peace Maker says, stroking her horse, Princess’s, tan and white neck.

“Yup,” Rough Rider agrees. “Midnight needed to stretch his legs. The park just seems to be getting smaller and smaller every day. A brightly colored tomb.”

They head east to where Abby plans the next couple moves while chewing on antacids like they were candy. A lot is riding on him and the stress is certainly taking its toll. Today’s mission will be their most ambitious, he wants to widen the corridor now that they’ve made it halfway through the city. Once through the urban jungle, cutting their way to the gulf will be easy.

“Still no Vida,” Peace Maker whispers to Lady Luck as Rough Rider leads their horses on foot back into the park.

“Nope,” Lady Luck responds curtly. She shifts her body in her armor still hating the fact she has to wear it. Both facts have had her in a bad mood since the beginning of their endeavor to take the world back from the dead.

They stand in silence watching Abby as he goes over the plan in his head once more. Peace Maker wonders out loud to her friend, “Do you think we should talk to him about it?”

“Leave it, darling,” Rough Rider says upon his return, he doesn’t need to have heard the whole conversation to know exactly what they’re talking about. “He’s a grown man. It can’t be easy to be in charge and in love.”

“He’s fucking things up between them,” his wife says with concern.

“But she’ll be alive,” he tells her. “That’s how he sees it.”

Like in school, the two suddenly realize that they are talking while everyone else is silent, watching them.

“Ready?” Abby asks them with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh…yes, sir,” Rough answers for them both with embarrassment.

“Today, we’re heading into the deeper into the western quadrant. We will be taking the Hammond, and the financial building,” Abby informs his people, pointing out the buildings on a map he’s taped to the side of one of their trucks they have dubbed Grave Robbers. Areas of the city have been traced with bright highlighter to mark what’s already in their control, in green, and what they plan on grabbing today, in red.

“We’re going to enter, blocking roads along the route,” he indicates the long stretch of city they will travel through to get to their ultimate target. The move makes a rectangle that is greater than any move they’ve made so far, not just in length but in width. The Rubies will be taking several streets at once on their way to the buildings.

“That’s a pretty bold move,” Lady Luck says what everyone is thinking. “Perhaps, a bit too ambitious?”

Everyone wants to get through the city, make headway fast, but they must use caution. Today’s assignment leaves a lot of area to sweep and clear, several blocks of buildings to secure. Their lines will be thinned quite a bit if they are to go through with this.

Abby scratches his chin looking at his proposed mission. “You’re right,” he agrees. “I see it now.”

Making corrections to his map, tracing new lines along the center of his rectangle, he tells them. “We’ll narrow our path here and here, reducing our corridor to a single street.”

The new plan creates a ‘T’, it’ll take them deeper without compromising security. Their man in charge of the barrier construction sends a few of his guys to grab the extra sections they’ll need to put up the barriers at the cross section.

“It’s like that game with the dots,” Rough Rider says regarding the map. “What was that called?”

“Dots, honey,” Peace Maker says.

“I never liked that game.”

The soldiers head to their places, the Gunship is filled so every one of the .50 caliber machine guns can be manned and snipers can line the top deck. Two teams assemble in the back of the Grave Robbers.

“Thank you for pointing that out to me,” Abby catches Lady Luck before she gets behind the wheel of the beige double decker bus.

“We’re all in this together, sugar,” she says. “No need to carry the whole burden on your shoulders.” She’s about to hop into the Gunship when a thought stops her. “Do you know why Brass took such a shine to you? Why he chose to groom you as his successor?”

“He told me it’s because he liked the way I put my keys on my keychain, all going the same way and by size.”

She has to smile at that. “I’m sure that was a factor. He told me that it was the fact you know how to compromise, hear out different viewpoints. He thought you’d be good in a pinch, able to make tough decisions; when to retreat, when to hold, and when to make a sacrifice play.”

Abby has to shake his head. “When did he see all this?”

“I believe it was during a game of checkers.”

“Is that what that was?” Abby exclaims, the realization dawns on him as he looks back through his memories of the game in question. “All his ‘are you sure you want to do that’s’ and his advice to play with my brain, not my dick?”

“I guess,” she says with a smirk.

“We played for over an hour,” the man says in disbelief. At the time he was thinking it was a mistake to accept Brass’s challenge. “He still won.”

“He saw something in you, believed in you as we all believe in you,” Lady Luck says. “You have to believe in us. All of us.”

Abby stares at the ground, letting it sink in. This isn’t just about the team. Lady Luck is reminding him that he has to put his trust in every Ruby. “Vida.”

“Yes, you have to believe in her.”

“I do,” he says with sincerity. “But, I can’t concentrate if I think she may be in danger. I’m more effective if I know she’s safe.”

“That’s understandable. But part of believing in the team is knowing that with us she will be safe, right? That girl is too good to sit on the bench.”

“She’s pissed,” Abby admits. “Not talking to me. When I try she’s always out with Kelly Peel or at target practice.”

“She’ll come around when you do.”

“I just need a few more days, let me open the map a little more, get a routine down,” Abby says. “The New Breed’s out there, somewhere. The fact we haven’t run into them in a while scares me.”

“It’s your call,” she tells him that he doesn’t have to ask for her permission.

“Hey! You guys ready?” Rough Rider calls from the back of the Grave Robber his team has been assigned to in the same ‘teacher-caught-you-talking’ tone Abby gave him earlier. “5, 6, 7, 8!”

The Gunship leads the way slowly along the street, shuffling and shambling zombies fall to sniper fire as the team travels deeper in. They take it a step at a time, pushing in and stopping at each corner. The cross streets are quickly blocked as barriers are expertly erected.

The plan now calls for the team to separate once they reach where the ‘T’ gets crossed. The snipers depart to cover the Grave Robbers and fence builders on foot. Sections of chain link are bolted to the buildings to create their zombie free zone.

Once at their target, the boxy trucks turn around. On the backs are cages that have been welded, these enclosures are helpful during uncertain times, allowing loading and unloading without fear of anything sneaking up behind the soldiers.

Teams of eight crouch in the backs, ready to hit the doors like Black Friday as soon as the cages are set against the buildings’ exteriors. Rough Rider prepares a rolling system of shop lights to help them in the dark. “Grave Robber 1 to Abby, our cage is secure,” he reports from the hotel.

“Grave Robber 2 to Abby,” Soul Train radios from his truck, “we’re knocking on the door.”

At the financial building, Soul Train pounds on the glass door in case a living person happens to be inside. There’s no immediate response.

“Whose turn is it?” Abby asks.

“That would be me,” Soul Train answers. “And, I’ll take something with some funk.”

“Let’s wake the neighborhood,” Lady Luck calls out from the Gunship. George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic begins to play and is transmitted to receivers on the Grave Robbers to set the mood.

The locks are cut with saws and the doors are opened. The soldiers advance into the dark letting the music draw the dead to them. The teams report their progress inside as they begin their search and destroy.

The lights grow hot as they cast their glow into the shadows. Both teams face mild resistance from the classic zombies that have been trapped inside for over a year, the starved dead are positively ravenous as they limp and shuffle toward the first signs of food they’ve seen in a long time. Small caliber weapons are used for precision to cut them down, and to avoid deafening themselves.

The units spread out into every nook and cranny. They cut away the shadows and look under furniture to make sure not an inch of space isn’t cleared. They make mental notes whenever they spot anything of use or interest, they can come back once the initial job is through. Floor by floor they explore the building to the funky beat until every last corpse is dropped.

Once his building has been searched all the way up to the roof, Rough Rider calls out to his team through the radio in his helmet. “All right, top to bottom, I want a double check while y’all drag the bodies out for trash collection. And, for god’s sake, don’t forget to pick up the brass. Our fearless leader is all pent up, the last thing I want is for him to be up my ass.”

“I’m feelin’ a might pent up myself,” Soul Train says across the distance. “Maybe I should have my team leave a few shells.”

“Guys,” Abby’s voice silences their laughter, “you know I can hear you, right?”

“Sorry, Abby,” Rough Rider apologizes sheepishly.

“I’m not,” Soul Train admits. “That offer is on the table, baby.”

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