Time of Zombies (Book 2): The Zombie Hunter's Wife (13 page)

Commander Canida stepped to the fire
and raised his hand. Silence fell over the group as Teddy leaned against a post
and crossed his arms on his chest. As far as he was concerned, all the talking
had accomplished nothing today.

Talked through breakfast.

Talked through lunch.

They would have talked through
dinner but Suz and Dr. Shannon called for silence for the meal. He didn’t need any
more talking to know what he needed to know. They had an enemy. Point him in the
right direction and say ‘go.’ Talking didn’t accomplish anything, pre-Z or not.

“People,” Jack said, his voice tired
and raw. “We can’t go off half-cocked. Even if the people of the church
sabotaged the well, that is not our primary concern.”

A roar built from the crowd, cutting
the man off half-sentence. Pockets of two, three, or four people gathered,
carrying on their own, private conversations. He listened with half an ear as
the commander continued once silence resumed.

“We have no permanent source of
water. Whatever drill rig they used before we came is no longer here and the
RVers—sorry, Rogue Vantage, don’t know what happened to it. We have enough
manpower to dig a well, but not the time with summer just weeks away, if not
sooner. Maybe if the governor or the government pulls itself together we might
be able to get things like wells and trading posts, but I’m not holding my
breath. The army left us to deal with the ZA at The Streets of Brentwood and more
than a year later and we are still on our own.”

Cheers went up and filled the
campfire circle. Then Maggie, the woman at the well this morning stepped
forward into the firelight. She held her hand out, the padlock sitting in her
palm.

“We’ll make do, because we always have.
But, what are you going to do about this?” She shook her hand. “What about the
assholes who did this?”

“Maggie, we don’t know for sure it
was Bennett’s people.”

She laughed and sneered at him.
“Right. Like some random renegades we haven’t met yet came by and broke the
lock and threw that ... that thing down there and left. I’ve been to that
church—once. He spews nothing but evil. He thinks we are sinners here with
unwed pairings and unorthodox couples. Well I say to hell with him and his
followers. We are doing fine here and we own this place and I’m not letting him
drive me away.”

Opening her hand, she dropped the
padlock at Jack’s feet, the sound of metal against pavement carrying in the sudden
silence.

Teddy stood back as the camp divided
itself between Jack and Paul on one side and Maggie and a group of the younger
members of their compound. When they started glaring at each other, he stepped
forward.

“Now, I haven’t been here from the
start, back at the shopping mall, but when I came here with Seth, Ran, and Cody
from Pittsburg, you all welcomed me, like a family. I’ve seen you all have each
other’s backs, pull together. I’ve seen you divvy out the chores so no one
group is overworked or lazing around doing nothing. Everyone does his or her
share.”

He winked at Dylan. “Even the Rogue
Vantage pulls their weight. But, Jack has the biggest load, and from what I’ve
seen you’ve been confident in him from the beginning to be the voice of reason
in a crazy world. If the commander says we have to be sure before we go
vigilante, I have to stand with him, like it or not.”

Seth and Emily, Cody and Ran stood
by his side. Jed and Beth took a few steps toward him and others filled in the
space until Maggie and a few others were left standing alone. The woman
whispered to her group and they turned to look at Jack as she spoke.

“Well, since it is more important to
get water than to start a war, we’ve willing to wait to see what happens.” She
pointed her finger at the commander. “But we won’t wait forever.”

Taking a deep breath as Maggie’s
group faded into the darkness, Teddy started when a hand grasped his. He looked
down to see Dylan staring up at him.

“Man, that was bitchin,’ dude.”

Teddy started laughing. “You have
been spending way too much time with Cody.”

“And you’ve been spending no time
with Mom.”

He squatted down in front of the
little boy. “We’ll figure it out; you don’t need to worry about grown-up
problems.”

Dylan put his hands on Teddy’s
shoulders like they were talking man-to-man. He felt his heart squeeze with the
unfairness of this world on children. Sooner, rather than later, the boys would
be called on to hunt for the undead and chase down renegades. They would have
to grow up before their time. Hell, they already were.

“She has nightmares, you know. They
were doing better, but they came back. She used to call out for Mitch, her
husband, you know. But now she says your name too.”

Teddy looked into bright brown eyes
and sighed, his heart aching. “I’m sorry about that, Dylan. Really I am. But I
don’t know what I can do about it unless she lets me know we’re okay. She has
to make the next move.”

“Well,” Dylan said, his head tilted
to the side. “You could sleep with her. Then she wouldn’t have to yell for
you.”

He hadn’t blushed so hard in years.
Heat filled his face and he looked right and left to make sure no one
overheard. He just shook his head at the boy. He’d like nothing better than
Michelle in his bed, but tonight when everyone had moved to the area between
him and Jack, she’d stood ten feet away and never looked his way.

Rule #10   
Anger in the zombie
apocalypse is a waste of energy. The undead don’t care if you are mad, sad, or
glad. Save your energy for what is important ... survival.

Michelle looked up from scrubbing
clothes to see Teddy and the group leaving for zombie hunting duty for the day.
As the man turned, she ducked her head to stare at gray, sudsy, wash water. By
the time she brought her head back up, the gate was clanging shut.

His loud laughter carried on the
still morning air before the roar of car engines drowned it out. With burning
rubber, the cars and men were gone for the day.
As if they were a bunch of
teenagers living in a video game come to life.

“That anger keeping you comfy at
night?” Emily asked as she waddled up beside her and started sorting clothes
into piles.

“I’m fine,” she gritted out through
her clenched teeth. “A woman doesn’t have to have a man to survive, even in the
apocalypse.”

“It’s not what you have to have,
it’s what you want.” Emily stared at her. “What do you want, Michelle?”

She grabbed a wad of wet cloth and
rubbed it against the washboard, thankful it was durable denim. What did she
want? She used to know.

Safety.

Security.

Dependability.

All of that was ripped away in a
day.

She’d thought she got it back when
they’d arrived at The Streets of Brentwood, with its strong buildings, only to
have a madman steal it in a day full of zombie suicide bombers.

She’d been happy here in the RV yard
with her daily chores and the boys of Rogue Vantage and then Teddy. But
something always seemed to chip away at the foundation of her security.

Bennett.

The undead.

Teddy and his zest for riding out to
danger like a hot-dogging cop.

Even the man’s stupid inability to
see she had risked it all for him.

“I just want to be safe,” she whispered.

Emily wrapped an arm around her
shoulders. “When were you ever safe?”

Her head came up with a start. “I
was safe before all this.” She flung her arms around as if to encompass the
whole zombie apocalypse.

“Were you?” her friend asked. “You
lived in San Francisco. Not exactly the safest city in the world. Your husband
was a cop, risking his life every day. Safety is an illusion. One we give
ourselves to get through the day. We’re no more in danger today than any other
day on this planet. Only the things putting us in danger have changed. I was
part of the high-and-mighty one percent. Let me tell you, going out into the
world was to see how easily the French Revolution happened. The haves and the
have nots have always done battle. Just that these days it is for food and
water. There is no safety. There never was. Just a thin civilized veneer that
was all too easy to rip away. If we’d had true safety, it wouldn’t have fallen
so fast.

“Do you remember the Internet? That
stupid hash tag #firstworldproblems? What I wouldn’t give for some of them now.
Long lines at the post office. The wrong drink at Starbuck’s. The dry cleaning
not ready. The ZA is the great equalizer. There is no more First World. We all
get to be Third World countries now.”

Michelle flung the clothing into the
water. “This sucks.”

Emily squeezed her shoulders and
hugged her. “Yes it does. But having someone at your side can make it suck a
little less.”

“The man could at least acknowledge
I went out the gate to save his sorry ass.”

With a laugh, Emily used a T-shirt
to sop up the spilled water and pulled the pile closer to the washtub. “How
long were you married?”

“Seven years. Why?”

“Over the years, men learn what to
say and do and what not to say and do. At least if they’re smart, they do. Teddy
never married and you two hardly know each other. It takes time to get the
nuances right.”

She sighed. “You think I’m being
foolish, don’t you. Making something out of nothing.”

Emily held her hands up in the air.
“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m the Queen of something out of nothing. I can get
angry or sad at the drop of a hat.”

Laughing, she started scrubbing
clothes again. “I don’t know how you make me laugh when I want to cry; between
Teddy and worrying about the boys and the fact that this is the last of the
semi-treated water for cleaning I should be balled up in a corner somewhere
crying my eyes out.”

“I’ve told you. No crying in the
zombie apocalypse.” Emily shook her finger in her face.

“Yes, mother.”

“I am not old enough to be your
mother.”

“But you are going to be a mom.”

Emily looked down at her enormous
stomach and gently rubbed it in a circle. A glow radiated from her face.
Michelle caught her breath.

“Some things are more important than
misunderstandings.”

“Yes, there are.” She stared to the
gate and beyond it to the now-empty road.

In the dull heat of afternoon, the
scavenger group came back with a truckload of bottled water. Although a welcome
sight, it wasn’t nearly enough for all the needs of the group and Jack made it
clear as soon as it was off-loaded that the water would be used for cooking
first. Mumbling filtered over the group.

“Anyone who doesn’t like it knows
where the gate is. Nothing is keeping you here. Anyone can leave at any time
they want,” the commander said.

No one moved an inch.

“We share in the good times and in
the bad. Right now is a bad patch, but we will get through this.”

People nodded and started walking
away. A commotion built at the gate. Tires squealed against the asphalt and
someone laid on the vehicle’s horn nonstop. Michelle turned and spotted the
hunting party at the gate. She set off in a run, her heart thumping in time
with her pounding feet. She slid to a stop at the metal barrier.

Her heart was in her throat as four
men lifted a fifth from the back of the truck. Teddy’s limp body hung between
them. She bit her lip to stop the scream rising. A groan issued from his lips
and Michelle heaved a giant sigh of relief.

Her foot tapped on the ground as the
gate stayed closed. Turning, she saw Jack at the controls, his hand over
Cody’s. The young man argued with the commander, but the words were muffled in
her head beneath the roar of the blood zooming through her body.

“Open the gate, Jack,” Josh Logan
yelled from the other side.

Canida strode to the gate. “Not
until I know it’s safe for the compound. The man is covered in blood. His or something
else’s?”

Her head whipped around. Teddy’s
jeans were dark indigo with blood soaking through the fabric, glistening in the
sunlight. A belt was wrapped around his thigh in a makeshift tourniquet. Hands
fisted at her sides as the past and present collided in her brain, and all she
wanted to do was rip the gate open.

Josh stepped up to the metal
barrier. “He’s been shot. No bites. No contamination.”

Shot? Who would shoot Teddy? The
men in the group were his friends. They always had each other’s back.

The welcome sound of the gate
opening filled her ears as Jack gave the signal to Cody and moved to the side. Teddy’s
ebony face held a gray tinge as the men hustled by and headed for Dr. Shannon’s
trailer, now an infirmary.

She paced back and forth on the
asphalt while the men carried him in and filed out down the stairs. Catching
the swinging door, she catapulted into the makeshift hospital. She slid to a
stop at the doorway to the bedroom. Shannon was already cutting Teddy’s jeans
and ripping them up to his thigh. The doctor’s hands slid over the bloody
flesh, poking and prodding.

Shannon looked up at Michelle. “You
might not want to be here.”

She started to argue when a small childish
voice cried out, “Not Mr. Teddy.”

Michelle squatted down and gathered
Dylan into her arms. “Sweetie, you need to leave. You shouldn’t be here. I’ll
stay and watch over Teddy. I promise he’ll be fine.”

One small eyebrow arched over his
wet eyes. “Like you can promise that. This is the ZA.”

Left speechless, Michelle stepped
back as Shannon turned to the little boy. “Can you go get Ran? I’ve been
teaching her some doctoring and I need her help.”

“Yes, Dr. Shannon,” he yelled as he
ran out the door, slamming it as he went.

“Thanks for the quick thinking. I
was at a loss.”

“Well, I do need her help. She
managed to save Seth by cutting and cauterizing his bite wounds. I’m praying we
can do the same for Mr. Ridgewood. His pants are covered in blood and guts that
I’m pretty sure aren’t his own.”

Michelle leaned in closer and
spotted the pieces of flesh she’d assumed were Teddy’s. The black threads
running through pale flesh should have alerted her they were not. Her throat
went dry and her mind tumbled to a dozen dark places.

“What about the bullet?” she
whispered, envisioning digging into his leg to get it out with primitive tools
and hardly any drugs to dull the pain.

“I checked. It’s a through and
through. We at least have that going for us,” Shannon said, placing a hand on
her shoulder. “If it had nicked an artery, he’d already be dead.”

She jumped when the door was yanked
open again and Ran vaulted into the trailer. “Dylan said you needed me?” The
young woman’s eyes caught the sight of Teddy in the bed.

“What do you want me to do?”

Shannon started handing out orders
and Ran and Michelle jumped to comply. In short order they had Teddy tied down,
a large quantity of alcohol to flush his wound, and pieces of metal heating on
the stove top.

“Michelle, I want you by the head of
the bed. You need to check his eyes from time to time. If you note any black
lines or the opaqueness they get, we’ll have to do what needs to be done. Do
you understand?”

She swallowed hard against the knot
in her throat. “Yes.” Grabbing a stool, she took her position by Teddy’s face.
Sweat poured down his face and pooled on his neck.

Shannon grabbed what looked like a
giant syringe and pulled liquid from a jug. Michelle recognized it as the
homemade alcohol the men had been brewing. Too strong for consumption they’d
been using it to treat injuries for months.

The doctor squirted it into the
wound. The bed creaked as the large man thrashed about, only the ropes holding
him down on the mattress. A scream built in his throat and erupted from him with
a roar. Michelle put a hand on his sweaty face and pried open an eyelid. His
gaze was unseeing but his deep brown eyes were as clear as ever.

Shannon put down the syringe and
loosened the belt on his thigh. The wound seeped but didn’t bubble or flood with
blood.

“That’s good, right?” she asked.

The doctor nodded. “So far, so
good.”

Shannon turned to Ran. “I want to
cut some of the damaged area away, so have the metal ready. When I go to use
them, I want one at a time. When I give you one, take it back to the fire and
bring another one, as fast as possible. I don’t need you hurt either. So, fast,
not sloppy. Understand?”

Ran nodded and stood ready.

Shannon took up a scalpel and
Michelle looked away. She concentrated on Teddy’s face and Teddy’s breathing.
She had a job. She could do it.

His back arched and his screams filled
the confined space. She tried to rub his face and check his eyes, but she was
helpless to do anything for the pain he was in. She would have taken it herself
if she could have.