Murphy's Law (Roads Less Traveled Book 2) (37 page)

My tone was loud enough for him to hear, yet not demanding or confrontational. I was simply asking things that needed to be asked, and if he’d already run into other survivors, things I’m sure he’d already heard before. He stared hard at me for several minutes, his mind playing catch up and trying to reconcile the difference between the helpless female he thought he’d been talking to, and the opinionated one who now towered ten feet above him, asking questions he no doubt did not want to answer.

“Ma’am, I understand your anger. But─”

I held a hand up immediately, interrupting him before he could finish his that’s-classified-I’m-only-following-orders bullshit. I glanced at Michael, who urged me to keep going.

“Never mind that, Captain. I’ll answer your question. We’ve got six children, all under the age of ten, behind this wall. And enough skilled marksmen and women to protect them and this property. Oh, and if I were you and your men, I wouldn’t make any sudden movements. Those marksmen and women I mentioned have had you in their crosshairs this entire conversation.” I jerked my chin in the direction of the men standing next to the last two Humvees, the ones with the rifles poised and ready. “Them too, as a matter of fact. Now, if what you say is true, then we won’t have a problem. But if you’re here to take what’s ours, in any way, shape, or form…well, this will get very interesting in a hurry.”

I have to admit, I sounded rough and tough. To be honest, talking the way I just had to a very large man dressed in camo, with other large men in camo standing behind him with automatic weapons ready to use at a second’s notice, made me want to puke. I was petrified. But apparently I run a good bluff, and this guy was being honest. He waited with a clenched jaw until I was finished, then took a deep breath and shouted an order over his shoulder for his men to lower their weapons, and something about standing at ease. Waters then looked to Michael for a long moment, studying him with a razor-edge that scared me even more, then turned that edge on me.

“Understood, ma’am.” It was obvious he wasn’t used to being spoken to with such bluntness. “As I said, we are not here to harm any of you. We have a common enemy, and a common goal. The truth is you’re the first group of survivors we’ve encountered in this part of the state. I believe we’re happier to see you, than you are to see us. And I
do
understand why.”

He stopped and lowered his head again. It sounded to me like he had more to say, much more, but he cut himself off. Could it be? Did he choke up? We’d been afraid of others for so long, it had never occurred to us how happy others might be to meet other survivors. I looked at Michael and nodded, letting him know my opinion of the situation without having to say a word. These guys were alright, for the time being.

“Captain Waters, would you and your men like something to eat?” Michael said.

I think it was starting to dawn on Michael as well, just how relieved these military guys were to see real survivors. Not just dots on a map. Waters jerked his head up, surprised but covering it well.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Kirlin. If your people don’t mind, that is. I believe we have a great deal to discuss, and I think we can help one another.”

“And you won’t try anything, or your men,” Michael said. I noticed it wasn’t a request. So did the Captain.

“No, sir. You have my word on that.”

“Well, alright then. You and your men can climb a ladder, right?” Michael’s voice was pleasant and losing the suspicious undertones.

Waters smirked. “Does a headshot kill a Zack?” He and Michael shared a chuckle over this. For me, hearing that was a little too personal.

Before I lost it, I made myself scarce and climbed back down the ladder. The other three were instantly hovering over me at the bottom. I pushed my way through and asked Jonah to help Michael pull the other ladder up. He saw what I meant, and grabbed the bottom of the ladder I’d just come down as Michael was pulling up from the top. Mia and Nancy followed me until I was several feet away from the wall, then I stopped and turned back to wait for the captain and his men to climb up the other side. Michael had already climbed down his ladder and was talking to Jonah when Waters’ head popped into view at the top of the wall.

“Wait, they’re coming in?” Nancy asked. She and Mia stepped in close to me, their backs to the soldiers who were climbing up one side of the wall and down the other.

“Yes. It’s okay, they’re just coming in to talk. We wouldn’t let them in if we thought they were trouble. Just be cool.”

Mia sighed. “Jesus, Kasey. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I hope we all do.” I watched Michael and Jonah shake hands and exchange introductions with the soldiers, eight in all.

Four were armed with rifles. The rest were carrying sidearms only. Though they were all relaxed and at ease, rifles hanging slack by the slings that criss-crossed the men’s chests, it still made me nervous. Until I realized we had more firepower, and most of it was still aimed at the soldiers.

“Michael.” I caught his attention once the group had started walking in our direction. He excused himself from the soldiers and stepped close to me.

“Yeah?”

“You better fill Jake and the others in on what’s going on. They’ve still got their rifles on these guys.”

Waters and his men were close by, chatting with Jonah, Mia, and Nancy. Michael looked towards the roof without moving his head, then glanced back at me.

“Yeah, about that,” he murmured, then took the radio from his belt. “Jake.”

“Go ahead.” His voice was still even and smooth. Atta boy, Jakie.

“I want you and John to meet me and our guests downstairs. Tell Abby and Troy to stay put and keep their barrels on these guys. Make sure she has the radio.”

“Copy that.”

Michael turned to Jonah next, leaving the ladies to entertain the men in green. “Head back to the wall and pull up that outside ladder. Just leave it next to the other, on the inside.” Jonah nodded and strolled back to the wall. Then Michael spoke up louder and swept his left arm towards the house. “Well then, let’s head inside.”

He and Waters led the group of soldiers across the wide yard, while Mia, Nancy, and I brought up the rear. Jonah caught up with us as we stepped onto the sidewalk, and it was then that I noticed that each of us had our rifles off our shoulders and in our hands. Not a single one of us had realized it.

* * *

“Where do ya think they are?” Jake asked.

He and I sat in lawn chairs on the roof of the club, keeping watch over the front part of the property, and had been up there for several hours. It was past midnight, and as far as I knew, Michael, John, Nancy and the others were still yacking it up with Waters and his guys downstairs in the den. Mike had decided we only needed two on watch tonight, since we had “special guests,” and I suppose two was all we really needed anyway. Unless those dead assholes could swim, our backside would be safe. We just needed to keep an eye on our front side. So Jake and I had volunteered.

“Depends on who you’re talking about,” I answered.

It was a quiet night, dark as shit except for a couple of spotlights that lit up the area just past the newly erected wall. He and I drank a few Bud Lights and smoked cigarettes while we kicked back with our boots on the roof ledge. It felt nice, just relaxing with a friend. Sure, the situation and environment was strange, but it was nice.

“The deadheads. ‘Cept for that swarm the Army blew all to hell, where are they? I’ve been wonderin’ about that.” He tipped back his beer and swished it around in his mouth a moment before swallowing.

I took a long drink and wiped my mouth. “Well, I’d say they’re out there, if you want to go looking for them.”

He stared back across the distance separating us from the woods, his face saddened. I watched and waited a few minutes, waiting on him to reply. It was clear he had something zombie-related on his mind, I figured I’d let him take his time spitting it out. We all had zombies on the brain, and now the military to boot.

“I don’t know. Guess it just seems like we’ve been lucky. Too lucky, ya know?”

I turned to him, my feet sliding off the ledge, and studied him a moment. I suppose he was right, in a way. We’d had our share of good luck. Then again, if we were basing everything that had happened to us on the luck, we’d also had our share of bad. Personally, I didn’t believe that.

“We’ve been smart, Jake. Not lucky, smart. Sure, there’s been a few situations where you could say, damn how’d we make it out of that? But really, I think we’ve just been smart. Using our skills, being prepared, and you know…” I paused and swept my right arm out, indicating our surroundings. “Look out there. What do you see, Jake?”

He glanced around casually, from his left to his right, bobbing his head up and down once he realized what I was showing him.

“Woods, hills, mountains. Lower population density, and that sure as hell helps.” He tipped his beer bottle in my direction in a toast before taking a long drink.

“Exactly. We’re in a prime spot. Now, get outside West Virginia? Hell’s probably breaking loose. Worst place to be is probably the entire eastern U.S. But in the Appalachians, we’re sort of isolated, a bit more secure than other regions. There’s only a few big cities in this state, and using the word big is stretching it. Drop in the barrel compared to other cities. Stay away from those, stay in the mountains? I think that answers your question.” I took a deep breath and looked out over the golf courses. A slight breeze had picked up, and for once it wasn’t laden with rotten death.

“I’m thankful every day that you and Ben included me in that Z-Plan. I know I don’t say it, but thanks, Kase.”

His voice had dropped to almost a whisper, his eyes lowered and staring at the Bud Light label as he picked at it. I thought about blowing it off or making an inappropriate joke, but I didn’t want to cheapen something so heartfelt coming from a guy who rarely shared this sort of thing.

“You know,” I said, lips twitching. “Zack would’ve loved this.”

I glanced away from him when my eyes filled with tears and stared at the bottle in my hand. I heard Jake sigh and sniffle, then his lawn chair creaked as he sat forward and leaned towards me.

“Yeah, he would’ve. Not Ben though.” I glanced over at him once he started laughing. “Dude would have been
shittin’
up his
back!”

Jake stomped his boot on the roof, then cut his laughter off short and stared at me. His right arm stretched out, beer in hand, the neck tilted towards me. I leaned over and tapped the neck of my bottle to his, toasting our friends. Then we wiped our faces, kicked back in our seats, put our feet up, and watched the leaves flutter in the breeze.

* * *

Our National Guard friends left just after breakfast the next morning. I use the term ‘friends’ loosely. Partners would be more accurate, or teammates. Michael and John had talked with the captain into the wee hours of the night, catching up on news, developments, and the general state of shittiness the country was in. Michael had also informed Waters of the details concerning the prison, how we’d been living there, the undead infiltration, our escape, so on and so forth. Then they hammered out the details of our new “partnership.”

The Guard would continue carrying out their orders of patrolling the western half of the state, District Four as they called it. In the meantime they would also share with us any and all supplies they had at their disposal. Things we could use, that is. So basically we couldn’t borrow say, a tank or something. Fuel, food, medical supplies, those were all available to us, as they were made available to the good captain. There would be weekly drops at the prison (we had no idea where all that stuff was coming from, and Waters wasn’t telling), and from those supplies the soldiers tasked with rationing would divide out a portion of it for us, then someone would hand deliver the supplies to our doorstep.

Sweet deal huh? There’s a catch. In exchange for this “aid,” we had to make ourselves available for patrol as well. When I say “we” I mean those of us skilled with rifles, and when I say “patrol” I mean scouting around “District Four” and sniping those deadhead sonsabitches from a safe distance. I, for one, was all for this idea. Post-Z, it didn’t get much better than having a safe, defendable home stocked by the military who was so close you could spit on them, as the crow flies, and having no other job than sneaking around the woods killing zombies.

Granted, we would have to venture into towns. The towns would be small, and it’s not like we hadn’t done it before. If we happened to find any survivors, we were to radio back so the Guard could pick them up. In the end, Michael had agreed with Waters’ proposal, though he wasn’t happy about it and it had taken a great deal of coaxing from John, Nancy, and Jonah to finally convince him. On one hand, I understood his hesitation. On the other, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

After saying good bye to Waters and his men, seeing them off and removing the ladders from the wall, the men, Mia, and myself went about the frustrating job of knocking down a section of the brand new wall to install a gate. We’d stolen it from an access road on the outer fringes of the property, far from the house and outside the wall. It wouldn’t be needed out there, and we really didn’t want to travel into a town somewhere to look for a gate. Use what you got, that’s my motto. The job took all day, that in and of itself pissed us off because it was something that should’ve already been taken care of. But noooo, someone had been in a hurry building the wall. And yes, I mentioned names and rubbed it in all day.