Zomblog: Snoe's Journey (7 page)

“You did not drop down on your horses when the signal came that the arrows were about to fly,” he said to me once we were pretty much clear of the battle.

I didn’t remember hearing anything…much less a signal.

“I apologize for knocking you off of your horse, but I did not want you to take an arrow,” he went on to explain while I stood there with what I am certain was probably just a stupid look on my face.

We moved along—actually, he moved and I pretty much followed—until we reached a cluster of “my” people. I guess there was a “take no prisoners” policy. Several of the Natives were moving along the downed bodies and finishing them off, and whenever they encountered somebody who threw up their arms in surrender, they administered a quick end.

I did not necessarily like that approach, but I was certainly not going to ask them to stop. I imagine that they have their reasons.

When it was all over, the ground was strewn with bodies. Once again, my expression obviously gave me away.

“What is wrong, Snoe?” the young man, his name is Jimmy Stonekiller by the way, asked.

“I guess I was wondering if one of the few things that I did learn about Native Americans is true…or if it has been forgotten…or…heck, I don’t know.”

I was flustered. Partially because once again somebody could just glance at me and know something was up or amiss or whatever. The other was that I felt like an idiot…and would feel even worse in about three…two…one…

“Waiting to see if we scalp our enemies?”

I know that I gulped. I now that because it felt like I was trying to swallow a whole apple in one shot. I might have also nodded.

“That was not really our thing,” Jimmy said with a stern face. “That was something we learned from the colonials who once used our scalps to gain payment much like an animal pelt. Our people took up the practice as a sort of revenge, but many tribes believed it was bad to defile the body of a corpse. We banned that act when our councils merged and formed the Confederated Tribal Union.”

I am pretty sure that he looked offended. What can I say? They really don’t teach a lot in history classes these days. The number one subject that you need to be versed in is survival.

Once we gathered our own dead, a group was assigned from those who were wounded but still mobile to make a pyre. The bodies would be burned together. Angel said it was done so that those who died in battle together could always remain bonded to one another. It sounds nice…all except for the part about dying.

We got back on the move the next day.

That was when we received a group of riders sent by Betty. They say that General Carson has been located.

Las Vegas was under siege.

Tuesday, August 2
nd

So, according to Betty’s riders, General Carson has decided to put all of his eggs into the ‘capture Las Vegas’ basket. His methods are exactly what you would expect. He apparently led a massive heard of zombies straight for Vegas. Even worse, he has three other smaller groups out scouring the area for more herds.

Here is what seems to be his tactic:

General Carson leads a herd of zombies to a settlement and then cuts it off from being able to get any supplies. The thing about Vegas is that it is huge. Walls reach out like tendrils to keep piping that brings in water, as well as large solar panel fields and wind turbine fields, secure.

If the guesses can be believed, General Carson led over a million undead to the long, high walls that protect Las Vegas. The rumor is that he sent riders into Death Valley where one of the largest herds was rumored to be just standing in the sun, baking down to nothing but a piece of walking shoe leather.

This does not bode well.

When the question was asked how he intended to be able to take the city even if it did surrender now that it was cocooned in a rasping wall of undeath, it would seem that he has over a hundred of those giant flamethrowers. The corpses are not much more than kindling.

So, you might be wondering what is keeping the people of Vegas from just tossing over a torch. It would seem that, at the moment, the zombies are being continually sprayed with water from those same hoses.

Wait…it gets better. Do you remember when I saw those gliders during my failed trip up the Columbia River Gorge? They are being used to buzz over the city and drop walkers and these globes filled with some sort of very flammable material.

While Vegas has a decent water supply, and apparently General Carson wants it all intact which is why he has not attacked the pipeline directly, it still can’t deal with the number of fires being started. The best they can hope for is to contain them as quickly as possible. Oh…and the main targets seem to be schools and residential buildings. I guess the NAA doesn’t care much about education.

Hearing this, I know that Corridor 26 was vastly less prepared than Las Vegas. We must have been easy pickings. I hope we do not arrive too late to help.

As we prepare for this journey, the irony is not lost on me. I am on my way to help defeat an army that is camped around a city that my birth mother, Meredith Gainey, was travelling to when she met her demise. I will see the city that Meredith never did.

Thursday, August 4
th

Zombies everywhere.

I don’t know if they possess some sort of sense that tells them where they need to go. Heck I don’t know if they actually see or hear. What I do know is that the undead are moving towards Las Vegas.

We are sitting on a hill looking down into what seems like an endless desert. The entire landscape is an unappealing shade of brown and I see no sign of vegetation. It is possible that a road could have cut through here at some point, but any sign of such things have been long since obliterated by time, sand, and more sand.

What you can see is the black forms of singles, groups, and a few smallish (only a few hundred or so) zombies dotting the landscape. The ground shimmers with heat waves and the ever present mirage beckons. There is not one thing about this that feels good.

I asked how far we would need to ride to get to Vegas from here and Angel says at least four days! How can we expect to survive four days in that cauldron? These horses are pretty stout, but you can’t fight against this sort of heat.

Angel said that we will strike out tomorrow. She seems confident that there will be no problems. I have absolutely none of her confidence.

Friday, August 5
th

Creepy.

That is the best way I can describe it.

We woke a few hours after sunset and came out of these caves that we had camped in to stay out of the sun. I could smell it before I saw it.

Rain.

The skies are thick with thunderheads that are dumping buckets of water on the ground. Sure, there is a good amount of lightning, but I will take being wet and actually a bit chilled over roasting and eventually dying of thirst.

Mato plodded along and seemed oblivious, even when a bolt of lightning struck close. Jimmy Stonekiller rode up to me around midday and handed me this odd piece of glass. When I just looked at him with my obvious question, he laughed.

“The sand turns to glass when it is struck by lightning,” he told me. “Come…let me show you something even more beautiful.”

I don’t know why, but I glanced at Angel as if I needed her permission. When she did not even look my way, I shrugged and rode with Jimmy. He took me just east of the group. I could already see several horses gathered around.

When I approached, I had to climb off of Mato and squeeze through. What I saw is hard to describe. Try to imagine planting an explosive in some sand. Then, just as it blows up…freeze everything. There is a solid fountain of sand arcing up skyward. It is about eight or so feet tall and looks impossible.

Once again, I am in awe.

If not for the undead stumbling and staggering our way, this would be perfectly beautiful. I tucked the piece that Jimmy gave me into my bag on Mato’s back and made my way back up to Angel.

I glanced back through the sheets of water and was swept up by a feeling that I can’t understand. It is like a mix of deepest love and deepest sorrow all swirled together.

These people are riding with me into battle to save people who may or may not even appreciate it. And as much as I love Mama Janie and Jenifer and all the people who I grew up around, I feel like I have finally found a missing part of myself. I am whole, but I am taking that wholeness and shoving it into a flame.

Saturday, August 6
th

We encountered a small band of soldiers riding to join General Carson around midday. They were stuck at what can only be described as a raging river that cut right through the middle of the desert. Now I understand how arroyos are formed.

The sound of the water is probably why they never heard us coming. Not that it would have mattered. They had no way to
cross. A few of them even jumped in and were swept away in the reddish-brown slurry in an attempt to escape the slaughter that came quick.

I have to wonder…which path would I take given the choice? The killing was, as I said, swift. Yet, some chose to take a chance and risk a much slower death by drowning or simply being pulverized against one of the large rocks that jut up from the water.

The will to survive is an interesting thing.

Thursday, August 11
th

Plumes of smoke from the fires burning in Las Vegas came into view the day after we eliminated that small group of soldiers. It only took us a little over two hours to fashion the narrow bridge that we laid across the water in order to cross. I will not deny that it seemed far too narrow for my liking. Mato did not seem to notice.

Anyways, we resumed our journey, and the next morning, not only could you see the fingers of smoke reaching into the sky, I
swear that you could smell it. The city/state of Las Vegas was one more day’s ride away.

I imagine this would be about as close as Meredith came.

Angel said that we would spend one extra day camped in order to come in and strike General Carson under cover of darkness. It seemed like as good of a plan as any.

That night, scouts were sent. When they returned, it was not with good news. General Carson and his army were nowhere to be found.

Vegas is gone.

It was inconceivable to me how such a thing could happen. And since they were not making any efforts to conceal themselves, it was no secret as to which way they were heading.

North.

I wanted to go see for myself, but Angel said we did not have time. If this force could obliterate a settlement the size of Las Vegas, I guess they are even bigger and scarier than we thought.

What I managed to discover from listening to the scouts is that it looks as if the fires inside the walls became too great. The undead are everywhere and one of the walls looks to have been breached.

The bits I heard revealed that Vegas did in fact have a power grid in place. Also, outside of the lands of the Confederated Tribes, this was apparently the largest community known. Again, we can only suppose, because there has been nothing from east of the country in over a decade. It is almost as if a line runs from what used to be Minnesota, all the way down to Louisiana.

The speculations are varied, and most have to do with radiation. Although California had nuclear power plants as well and no such reports ever came from down there. But honestly, considering the fact that we live in a world where travel is kept to a minimum, I could not begin to tell you where fact separates from fiction.

But back to the destruction of Las Vegas. It seems as if one of the walls was breached, allowing thousands of the undead that had been gathered outside the walls to pour inside. Even if there were survivors within, it would not be possible to help. There are just too many zombies.

None of this makes any sense.

If I was leading an army and wanted to conquer the population, what good would it do to just wipe everybody out? Who does this General Carson think he will be leading?

We got back on the move and had no trouble finding his trail. He obviously does not feel the need to cover his tracks. That is the funny thing about being arrogant; you open yourself to being taken down simply because you do not believe that such a thing can occur.

The little history that I do know has more than enough examples of such things. Egypt, Rome, the American Revolution. Talk to enough of the old timers, and a lot of them felt that the United States was on such a course.

When you think about it, humanity as a whole suffered from that same delusion. I can only go by what I have heard, and even by what is in Sam’s and Meredith’s journals. Humanity thought it was invincible…all the way up until the scale tipped over and zombies became the majority.

So we rode hard until we spotted the trailing edge of General Carson’s army. There are more wagons than I knew existed. The best estimate of this force’s numbers put them somewhere around fifty thousand!