Zomb-Pocalypse 3 (9 page)

“You’re damn right
about that,” my dad snaps. “I might be able to get over you doing that to me,
but you left my kid. You left her and you left Silas to get eaten alive by
zombies, all to save your own skin. You could’ve drawn them away and came back
for us, but you left us for dead, and I will never forgive you for as long as I
live.” My dad is panting by the time he’s done delivering his speech, and I
half expect him to punch Barry again, but he somehow manages to restrain
himself.

I peel my eyes
away from Barry and look around at the crowd. Everyone is staring at Barry in
shock and disgust, and I can’t help thinking, oh snap, Barry is in so much
trouble.

“Is this true?” my
mom demands, even though she’s really never had any cause to doubt anything my
dad says.

“It’s true,” Dad
answers for Barry, and Silas and I both nod as well.

“Banishment,” Regg
says instantly, and we all turn to look at the Sergeant.

“Please don’t,”
Barry begs, turning to Regg, and even my Dad looks taken aback.

“That might be a
little harsh…” My dad starts to say, and Barry turns a thankful look towards
him.

“It is... it
really is.” Barry agrees, making me want to punch the guy myself.

“I don’t think
it’s a good idea to have someone in this camp that we can’t trust. Someone who
would purposely do something that directly endangers someone else,” Regg says,
and the playful Sergeant I’ve come to know is no longer anywhere in sight. He
is one hundred percent military from the look on his face to the stiff posture
of his spine.

“But I saved you,”
Barry splutters as he turns to Regg, but Regg shakes his head, denying it.

“You really didn’t
have much choice when I jumped from the roof of the truck to the roof of your
car when you were speeding by,” he points out succulently, and I’m shocked to
realize that Barry would’ve left Regg too if he’d had the chance. “I was
willing to ignore that,” Regg tells him, “There were a lot of zombies and I
understand that you were scared…but you’ve done this more than once now. You’re
a repeat offender.”

Every eye is on
Barry and Regg, and no one else says anything. I think, like me, they are too
surprised by the fact that Regg has a tough side.

“We can’t banish
him,” Silas says eventually, breaking the silence.

“Why the hell
not?” Regg demands, looking surprised that Silas of all people would object.

“He knows where we
live. He knows where the cabin is and all the supplies we have. If we let him
go, he could meet up with people that might want what we have,” Silas says, and
he has a point. Zombies are an everyday fear, but so are bad people who want to
take what little we’ve found for ourselves.

Regg frowns. “You’re
right,” he says as he stares at Barry. I half expect him to whip out his pistol
and shoot him in the head, but he doesn’t—thank goodness. I’ve seen enough
graphic images for one day.

“But we can’t just
let him get away with what he did,” Silas says, and we all murmur our
agreement.

Somehow, Regg has
become our leader in this, and we all turn to him…even Silas.

“Okay,” Regg says.
“Flogging.”

Barry turns white
and tries to run into the woods, but Silas and Regg grab him and wrestle him
down to the ground.

“That seems a
little harsh,” Mom interrupts, surprising everyone—even me—who doesn’t even
know exactly what a flogging is.

“Meredith,” my dad
bursts out. “This guy was nearly responsible for Jane’s death,” he tells her
bluntly, and my mom goes pale.

“I know, Arthur,
and believe me, he deserves to be punished, but if we introduce corporal
punishment, where does it end?” she challenges. “Will you be happy when Jane is
whipped for some reason, perhaps sneaking off on a supply run when she’s been
told to stay home?”

“That is a bit
farfetched,” Regg interjects. “Of course I wouldn’t go around whipping wayward
teenagers, but traitors are another story. People who threaten our very
lives—think about it”

My dad looks deep
in thought, but finally he nods his head. “I’m sorry Mere, but I agree with
Chad.”

Chad turns to the
rest of us gathered around. “Two strikes for every person he left behind,” he
suggests, giving us a minute to think about it before asking, “All in favor?”

I watch as my dad
raises his hand, and Silas does the same. Chad puts his own hand up, and my
mom’s remains firmly down. I start to raise my own hand, but my dad shakes his
head at me. “Sorry kiddo, you can’t vote on this.”

“Why not?” I
demand, after all, it happened to me.

“You aren’t old
enough to vote,” Chad says firmly, and that shuts me up.

Ryan looks at me
intently for a moment, and then raises his own hand.

“All opposed,”
Regg asks, and my mom and Barry are the only ones that raise their hand.

“You don’t get a
vote either,” Regg tells Barry, who miserably lowers his hand.

“The motion is
carried,” Regg says as he goes over to the truck and pulls out a length of
rope. “There is no point waiting. Let’s just get this over with and carry on
with our lives.” He turns to Barry and holds out the rope. “Take your
punishment and you will be given a fresh start. You don’t have to leave, but
you had better change your behavior. We are not all out for ourselves here,” he
says sternly, and Barry surprises the hell out of me by stepping forward to
accept his punishment.

Regg points to a
tree a couple feet away and Barry peels off his shirt and goes over and hugs
the tree while Regg binds his hands to the opposite side. When Regg steps away,
Barry is firmly tied to the tree with his back exposed.

“I will carry out
the punishment,” Regg says as he walks over to a tree and cuts off a large
birch rod.

“You girls need to
go inside the house,” my dad tells us, and we don’t need to be told twice. It
was one thing to want Barry punished, but it’s kind of a totally other thing to
actually witness it.

“I’ll come with
you,” Mom says as she casts my dad a disappointed look and follows us in.

We all go sit in
the living room and wait for it to be over. Sunny is playing with her dolls in
front of the fire, and she jumps up happily and hugs me when I walk in. “Why
don’t you go play in your room, sweetie?” my mom suggests, and Sunny nods
happily before running off up the stairs.

We all know when
he receives the first crack of the whip. We can hear his screams even inside.
“Do you really think he deserves this?” Mom asks me after Barry has shouted
himself hoarse for each of his six lashes. I think about it seriously, about
walking for miles, being in the dark out in the open and exposed. I think about
running for my life, and spending hours in the wet pool of human remains, never
knowing if I was ever going to see my mom again.

“Yes,” I answer at
last, and the silence after my answer is deafening. It is obvious my mom
expected me to change my mind after hearing Barry scream in pain.

“That’s a little
harsh,” Abby says.

I open my mouth to
reply, but Megan beats me to it. “It’s a harsh new world.”

Chapter Eight

It's hard not to
stare when Barry comes running through the living room and heads straight for
the stairs. He doesn't say a word to us, and even I wince when I see his back,
red and bloody and raw from the whipping. I remind myself that he was nearly
responsible for four deaths—one of them mine—and I harden my heart.

"Yikes,"
Abby says, but I ignore her. I know she wants me to change my mind and be the
soft-hearted person she’s always known, but I can’t anymore. The door opens and
Ryan pops his head in. He looks a bit pale, and I hope he isn't regretting
voting for the punishment. I get the feeling he only did it because I wasn't
allowed to vote my opinion.

"We could use
some help getting the truck unloaded," he says before popping out again.
My mind switches from Barry, who really is still alive and is just pouting
upstairs, to all the awesome stuff we loaded into the back of the truck. I jump
to my feet, pulling Abby and Megan along with me.

“Let’s form a
line, so no one has to walk back and forth a thousand times,” Regg suggests. In
lieu of Barry, Regg has become our interim leader, I guess because he was
willing to do what had to be done. I don't know about everyone else, but I kind
of like the idea of Regg being in charge. He’s a good guy, and he helped me out
so much back when Ryan and I were leaving Camp Freedom. I really think he will
do the right thing even when he really doesn’t have to, like helping us out
when none of the other soldiers wanted to give us food or supplies for our trip
to New York to find my parents.

We form an
assembly line of sorts, moving the supplies into the middle of the living room
where we can sort everything out afterwards. Regg doesn't want anyone outside
after dark, so we need to work quickly. Our assembly line is so productive that
I barely get a break between passing one thing and having to grab another. We finish
the truck pretty quickly. Then Silas drives it around the corner and brings the
car back. Apparently they hadn’t had a chance to unload it yesterday with all
the excitement of thinking Dad, Silas, and I were dead. Either that or Barry
was hoping to keep the supplies handy if he needed to make a quick getaway—I
keep my thoughts on Barry to myself though.

I’m starting to
feel a bit of an ache in my shoulders by the time we’ve passed the last thing—a
twenty-five kilogram bag of flour. Still, walking into the living room and
seeing the mountain of supplies is like Christmas. I never thought I would feel
this kind of excitement again.

Silas and I hand
out the coats, and Sunny squeals when Silas presents her with the pink snowsuit
and matching boots. "I didn't know you still had that," I say in
surprise, and Silas nods.

"I rammed it
in my backpack while we were running from that crowd at the door." I smile
at the fact that, even in the heat of the moment, Silas was still thinking
about Sunny. I think if our situations had been reversed, I probably would’ve
dropped the snowsuit and ran for my life.

"That was
really great of you," I tell him, hoping he will believe it. I always get
the impression from Silas that he thinks he's not a good guy, when the complete
opposite is true.

"Yeah, well
if we hadn't gotten it, then she would still need one and we'd just have to get
it another day," he says logically, but I know it isn't all about
convenience. He cares about Sunny.

"Listen
up," Regg calls as he stands wearing his new winter coat and a pair of
leather work gloves. "I don't want to just take over or anything, this
should be a democracy, but the fact is we need to get organized and start
actively surviving." His words make a lot of sense, and as I look around I
see that everyone else in the room is nodding their agreement, even my mom, who
didn't agree with his punishment plans.

"I have no
problem with you stepping up, son," my dad tells him, and Ryan nods in
agreement. "Hell, your military experience probably makes you the most
qualified of us all," Dad adds, and he's probably right. Abby, Megan, and
I would never even be considered—we wouldn’t want to anyway. Ryan and Silas are
too young. Even though Silas is a great survivalist, he doesn’t have the social
skills to lead. My mom was a housewife, who is afraid of her own shadow, and my
dad, though he’s adapted well, he was a stockbroker. We never even went camping
on the weekends back before everything blew apart.

"Thank you,
sir," Regg says seriously. "I appreciate your vote of
confidence."

"Do you have
a plan?" my mom interrupts to ask, even though I personally think it’s too
early to be expecting some sort of five-year plan in his acceptance speech—but
Regg nods his head.

"I do, but
it’s going to take all of us," he stares meaningfully at my mom.
"That includes the girls, obviously Sunny will be exempt, but Megan, Abby,
and Jane have to pull their own weight." I watch as my mom's face melts
into a frown. It’s obvious this wasn't what she was expecting to hear.

"Listen,
they're just kids," she argues, and I watch Regg let out a deep sigh. I
nearly open my mouth to protest, but my dad beats me to it.

"Mere, I
think we need to talk privately,” he says, but my mom crosses her arms
stubbornly and refuses to leave, so my dad is forced to say whatever it is with
an audience. “Okay then, you weren't out there with us. Jane has grown up a
lot, you would be surprised. I know I was." I beam at my dad. I can't
believe he's defending me to Mom like this.

Mom obviously
can't believe it either. "Are you serious?" she scoffs, and my dad
swallows visibly.

"I'm deadly
serious," he says, standing his ground. "She's a better shot than I
am, and I've seen her not hesitate to stomp a zombie." He actually looks
proud of me, and I can't help but feel a little swell of pride.

"She's just a
kid," Mom stubbornly protests again, and Dad shakes his head.

"Sunny is a
kid. Abby, Jane, and Megan are young adults—things have changed—they had to. I
would love to put her in a bubble and protect her forever, all three of them,
but it isn't realistic. Keeping her away from the danger is actually hurting
her ability to protect herself."

"Fine,"
my mother snaps, and I feel bad for my dad. I know that tone.

"Obviously
they won't be given any high-risk jobs," Regg interrupts, and my mom turns
her sour gaze on him.

"Don’t kid
yourself Sergeant—just walking out the front door is a high-risk job these
days,” she says, spinning on her heels and storming off to the kitchen. I wince
when she slams the door, hoping that her rude behavior isn’t going to get her
whipped.

"It's not
ideal that winter is fast approaching. If it was spring, we could've grown
crops to last us through the cold season. We do have a decent amount of food,
but it won't be enough. When the cold weather kicks in, we will need to eat
more because our bodies will burn more calories just keeping warm."

Regg paints a
pretty bleak picture, and I begin to feel my spirits sinking.

"It sounds
awful," Abby whispers to me, and I can only nod my head.

"It will
be," Regg says, hearing Abby. "But there are things we can do to
minimize the risk of starvation and hypothermia." I lean forward, curious
about what he's going to suggest. “We will need to send teams out to scavenge
for supplies, and food.” Regg stops and points to himself, my dad, and Ryan. I
feel my heart sink into my toes. “While you three…” He points to Abby, Megan,
and me. “…will stay on this mountain and begin to gather enough wood to last us
through the winter.” He stops and takes a close look at our slender frames and
skinny arms and frowns. “You will definitely need some training first.”

“What about me?”
Silas interrupts, since he wasn’t named to do anything, which I find really
odd. He’s like the most useful of us all. “Am I coming on the supply runs?”

Regg shakes his
head, and Silas’s expression begins to turn stormy.

“You might have to
go on the occasional run, if someone else gets sick or something,” Regg says,
not elaborating on what the “or something” part might include—like getting
eaten alive. “But, unless I’m mistaken, your real talents lie in hunting.”

Silas gives a
clipped nod of his head. “I can hunt,” he acknowledges.

“That is just as
important,” Regg continues. “Fresh meat will do wonders to stave off
starvation, and it will save some of our stockpile for times when we really
need it.” Silas nods grudgingly.

“That’s a good
idea,” he admits, and I’m surprised.

“Part of your
duties will also include protecting the cabin while the others are away, and
keeping a loose ear on these three.” He stops and points to us. “Maybe
surveying the area before they begin work, make sure there are no Z’s trapped
in the deadfall.” Silas nods.

“What about Barry
and my mom?” I blurt out, and Regg has to think about it for a minute.

“Your mom has an
important job too, she needs to take care of Sunny. She has also been preparing
all of our meals. I think that is enough for her for now,” he says, and I
smile, I’m glad my mom won’t be put into any serious danger.

“And Barry?” Silas
prompts.

“He’ll come with
us on our supply runs until he proves he can be trusted. He won’t be given keys
to any vehicles, or anything else he can use to betray us; he will have limited
access.” Everyone nods at the Sergeant’s words.

“Sounds good,”
Ryan says as he bends down and scoops a large bag of flour off the floor and
begins to carry it into the kitchen. Outside the window it’s getting dark, so
our new jobs will have to wait until morning. My stomach growls loudly, making
me realize that I’ve missed lunch, so I scoop up a bag of sugar and cart it
into the kitchen to see if my mom is still mad, or if she’s making us some
supper.

The rich smell of
bean and molasses hits me as soon as I walk through the door, and my stomach
growls even louder. Mom looks over at me and gives me a small smile. “Are you
starving?” she asks, and I nod. She tosses me a granola bar to hold me over. I
haven’t eaten since that bag of chips in the car this morning.

“I’m sorry,” Mom
says, surprising me.

“What?” I ask,
looking up with a mouthful of bar.

“I know I was
overreacting, and I’m embarrassed,” she admits. “It’s just the thought of
losing you is terrifying. It’s going to take some time…a lot of time–maybe
never—before I will feel comfortable with you going out.” She smiles at me, and
I walk over and hug her tightly.

“Everything is
going to be okay,” I tell her, even as my heart starts to thump loudly in my
chest. I really hope it’s a promise I can keep.