Zompoc Survivor: Exodus (16 page)

Brass hit the ground with an almost musical
ping
as the echo from the Colt’s last shot faded. When I lowered the pistol, I was treated to the sight of a hundred yards of bodies in front of me.

“Final score in the tenth round, Dave Stewart, forty five, zombies, zero,” I said with a little more bravado than I had a right to. My shoulders were knotted and I took a deep breath for the first time in…I checked my watch…two minutes? It felt like I’d been shooting for an hour. The air smelled of cordite and something foul. I looked over my shoulder and saw that I’d finally gotten the attention of the urban zombie dwellers. Most were stumbling down the road, but a couple of ghouls emerged from the pack and broke into a run. I let out a tired sigh and grabbed the HK, then brought the ACOG’s red dot down on the chest of the one on the right. Three rounds went down range, and his feet went flying out from beneath him. He landed on his shoulders, with his feet hitting the ground on either side of his head. I swung the sight over to the second ghoul and fired three more times. That one went stumbling and left a long smear of red on the asphalt before he slid to a stop.

“These fuckers just don’t stop coming, do they, Leo?” I said as I unslung the Ruger and slid it under the bungee cords, then changed out the magazine in the HK and the Colt. Leo just looked at me with feline disdain and tilted his furry head. “Yeah, yeah, we’re going.” I hopped on the bike and started pedaling, weaving my way through the bodies. The bike fit between the front of a little Honda and a Ford F150, then I was on the overpass. It was surprisingly clear of vehicles, but 44 was clogged. Ghouls and zombies moved between the permanent traffic jam, some of them heading for the south side of the overpass. By now, I figured there was no one left alive down there. I kept my head low and prayed none of them looked up. Someone must have been watching over me, because I made it across without any new friends in my six. The road behind me was starting to fill with infected, but the way in front of me was mostly clear, and I could see nothing but open fields for nearly a mile in either direction. The gentle downhill slope went on for another quarter mile, and I let the Smartwheel recharge while I coasted. I was on the road, and on my way to Sherwood. The worst part, I hoped, was going to be how long it took to get there.

Chapter
12

Respite, Reunion & Revelation

Every parting gives a foretaste of Death, every reunion a hint of the Resurrection.

~ Arthur Shopenhauer ~

Even after the world ended, Missouri was beautiful country. My route kept me on farm roads most of the way, with beautiful views to my left and right, green fields with trees just showing the first hint of autumn color in little groves that gave way to thick trees and gently rolling hills as I got closer to 65. The highway was nothing more to me than two bridges that I rolled under. Then I was back out in rolling fields and open road. Eventually, I saw the sign I was looking for, announcing that I was a mile from Fellows Lake. Wooded lots crowded up on the left side of the road, and thicker copses of trees started cropping up on my right. The road sloped down again, and I found myself coasting through a series of gentle S curves, then I was cruising across the bridge over the northern arm of the lake. To my right, it looked like it was a huge pond, with a thick covering of green moss on the surface a hundred yards out. On my left, the lake was blue and vibrant. A few boats were out on the water, and I got the impression that they were probably some of the few safe people in the area. In October, there weren’t many people out on the lake and most of the casual boaters congregated on the southern arm anyway. The only other sign I saw of people was a blood trail leading off the road on the north side of the bridge. I followed the twists and turns that took me off the lake’s shore and deeper into less cultivated areas, and in another half hour, I found myself slowing down to take the last turn before I got to Sherwood. Asphalt gave way to parallel ruts of packed dirt and rock, and I switched the motor off to cover the last half mile on my own. The road curved to the right and then snaked back left before I hit the last hundred yards, which ran pretty much straight.

I heard a deep booming bark start up when I got about fifty yards away from the hand-painted sign that marked the entrance to Sherwood, and a few seconds later, Sherman bounded out to the road. I coasted to a stop by the sign and stuck my hand down for him to sniff.

“Good dog,” I said as he gave me his slobbery seal of approval. From behind me, I heard a warning growl from Leo. Sherman immediately bounced to the back of the bike to look the new arrival over. A hundred pounds of black and brown Rottweiler faced down fifty pounds of orange tomcat for a few seconds. Leo reared back and raised one paw in the air in warning. Sherman stuck his nose forward, and Leo’s front paw turned into a blur. I expected it to turn into a free for all as I tried to get off the bike in time to save my cat from my new-found canine friend.

As fights went, it ended quickly. Sherman’s head snapped back and his brow sort of wrinkled as he tilted it to one side. Then, he dropped down on his forelegs and rolled over to show his belly. I stopped in mid-stride, and Leo, apparently satisfied with the newcomer’s show of fealty, hopped off the trailer. With his usual feline nonchalance, he strutted over to Sherman, swatted his nose again for good measure, then hopped back on the bike trailer to reclaim his mobile throne.

The sound of footsteps behind me brought me around, and I found myself being rushed by Maya and Amy. “Don’t you ever do that to me again,” Maya said into my shoulder while Amy got her arms around her mother and me from the right. My ribs creaked in protest but I was giving as good as I got, my fears laid to rest for the moment. Over her shoulder, I could see the others come out onto the road, every one of them armed, even Bryce. Porsche had the M-4 I’d been carrying, Bryce was carrying his Ruger and Karl was toting his Mini-14, while Cassie’s pistol was holstered at her hip. Porsche’s work clothes had been replaced with a pair of Maya’s jeans and one of her t-shirts, but everyone else was still wearing what I’d last seen them in.

“No promises,” I said softly. “But I’m pretty sure I don’t have to worry about being captured by the Army again.” She pulled away and gave a weak laugh, then reached up to touch my face for a moment.

“I thought I’d…” she started.

“Me, too. But you didn’t. I’m okay, baby. Not even the zombie apocalypse can keep me away from you.” I kissed her hard, and when we came up for air, we were surrounded by the rest of the group.

“How did you get away?” Porsche asked.

“Did you kill a lot of zombies?”

“Were you followed?”

“What’s next?”

I held up my hands and shushed them. “I just got here guys. Let me at least sit down for a minute first!” I said. Amy took control of my bike and started pushing it while I fell in behind her and finished my trek to Sherwood. I reached out and touched the hand-painted wood sign Maya had made as we passed it, and took a quick glance around as we headed for the picnic table and the fire pit that were the center-piece of our little clearing. Our little shelter house looked okay, and the two storage buildings seemed undisturbed. A little further back, I could see the old windmill and the stone and wood barn that had been all that was left of the original farm, its blades turning steadily in the morning wind. Beside it were two blue metal cargo containers that were padlocked shut. Another degree of tension eased from the knot in my shoulders, and I sat down at the wooden picnic table feeling a little better. Maya put a brown bottle in front of me with a bottle opener beside it as she sat down beside me. I popped the cap on mine, and we touched the necks of our opened bottles together before we took the first swig from them. The first taste of Gwydion’s Heartland Ale was like nectar of the gods on my tongue, and I fought down a pang of grief at the thought of how many people I knew who might be walking around dead right now. Gwydion made a damn good ale, and Maya had traded him several pieces of period garb for a case of his home-brewed liquid gold.

“Come on, Dave,” Bryce said eagerly. “How’d you get away? Who were those guys, anyway?”

“Okay,” I said, bowing to the inevitable. “Here’s what happened.” I laid out the highlights of what had happened after I was captured, leaving out the more gruesome details and leaving off after the shoot-out at Highway 44. “Now it’s your turn. How did your trip go?”

“Slowly,” Porsche said.

“As soon as they showed up, I got everyone packed up and out the back gate,” Maya picked up the story. “That took us almost an hour, then the trip here…” she paused and shuddered. “It was dark, and we had to take it slow most of the way. My bike was the only one with a motor, so we pedaled it the whole way. We heard people screaming even after we got out of town. We finally had to stop after we got to Fellows Lake. There was some trouble there.” She stopped, and Karl put his hand on her shoulder.

“She had to shoot a man,” he said quietly. “He pulled a pistol on her and tried to take Amy.” I put an arm around her shoulders. If I’d expected trembling or tears, I would have been disappointed.

“I didn’t see a body,” I said quizzically.

“He was still alive when we left him,” Porsche said with a wicked grin. “He just wasn’t interested in taking a girl with him.” I made a pained face at the thought of where Maya must have put the bullet.

“We got here a couple of hours ago,” Maya said, suddenly sounding as tired as I felt.

“Then you guys need to get some rack time,” I said. “I’ll keep an eye on things for a while, then I’ll wake someone up to take over for me.”

“What about you, baby?” Maya said. “You’ve been awake as long as anyone else, and you’ve been through a lot since yesterday.”

“I was knocked out for a few hours,” I said as I got to my feet. “Besides, there are a few things I want to do before I crash.” I got up and kissed Maya again for good measure, then headed for the windmill. Karl fell in step beside me.

“How did you afford this place?” he asked me. “I know your books made some money, but not that much.”

“The books made more than you think, but Nate helped me finance it. Those two storage pods are his, the rest is mine.”

“So, is this your survivalist retreat or something? Were you planning on sitting out the end of the world with a pile of guns and MREs?” He laughed as he asked the question, and I turned to face him.

“No, I’m not that kind of prepper. Most preppers aren’t paranoid gun freaks waiting for the world to end. Look around you, what do you see? A little shack in the woods, a few outbuildings?”

“And an old windmill,” Karl added with a grin.

“Here’s what you don’t see,” I said with a wave of my hand. “That ‘old windmill’ pumps water, generates electricity and it’s an antenna for a shortwave radio. That shed over there holds a series of deep cycle marine batteries to store the electricity the windmill generates, and my radio. That shed over there holds buckets of heirloom seeds and hand plows. Back there is twenty acres that used to be fields of wheat. Inside that little barn by the windmill with the solar panels on it is enough food to keep four people alive for a year. This isn’t a survivalist retreat, Karl it’s a homestead.”

“We’re just going to sit this out here?” he said. “Is that your big plan?” He raised his arms then let them drop to his side.

“No. For almost anything else, that would have worked but this…no.”  As I spoke, I went to the base of the windmill and grabbed the copper lead to the antenna. Most of the time, I kept the main antenna disconnected to keep the shortwave’s effective range lower, but today none of that mattered. “We may be safe here for another day or so, but not much longer. I don’t know if you saw it in the dark, but zombies are leaving the city.”

“Why?” Karl asked, for once not challenging me.

“They’re following the people; they’re following their food.” I connected the antenna lead and stood up to face him again. He’d gone a little pale and his eyes were vacant. Processing the idea that he wasn’t at the top of the food chain anymore must have been hard for him. “Go get some rest, Karl,” I told him. “I’m going to walk the fence line, make sure we don’t have visitors, then I’ll be back.”

By the time I got back from my trip around our fence line, almost everyone was asleep. When I took a look inside the cabin, I found Cassie and Bryce in their sleeping bags on the floor of our little front room, with Karl sprawled out on the other side of the room, with an empty sleeping bag in between them. Maya and Amy’s feet were visible in the loft bed, and Sherman was serving as a pillow for Leo in the little kitchen. All told, our little cabin wasn’t much more than twenty feet on a side, but it served well enough for today. If we were staying here longer, I would have wanted to get a camper or two for the first winter.

Porsche was sitting at the picnic table with her cell phone in her hands. When she looked up at me, her face was longer than a Friday before a three day weekend. I sat across from her and leaned the Ruger against the table’s edge.

“What’s up?” I asked gently.

“I’m sorry I left you last night,” she said slowly. “When you said go, the only thing I could think of was getting away.”

“No, you did exactly what I needed you to do, Porsche,” I told her. “You did the hardest thing anyone could have asked you to do. You left someone behind to save the rest of the people with you.” She shook her head and her mouth turned down in distaste.

“Doesn’t mean I like it,” she muttered.

“No one’s asking you to. But if you hadn’t, they might have gotten Bryce and Cassie. There’s no telling what would have happened to them then. So, you did good. I’m proud of you.” Her expression brightened a little at that.

“Thanks,” she said, still a little subdued. “So, what’s next? This doesn’t feel like our last stop.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked her.

“You still have that same look on your face you had whenever we got to one of the places we were going. It’s the same look you have when you get to work every day, and you’re planning ahead for something.”

“Okay, touché. This is just the first stop. I promise, I’ll tell you everything soon, when I tell everyone else. As soon as I know what the plan really is. In the meantime, why don’t you get some rest?”

She shook her head. “Not until you do. Maya has Amy watching out for her, you’ve got me. Deal with it.” I looked at her for a moment, trying to see what I’d missed about the woman sitting in front of me. At work, she’d been a lot like anyone else. Her interests had seemed pretty much mainstream, though she hadn’t been as obsessed with Hollywood gossip or reality TV as most of our co-workers. She’d had a couple of boyfriends that hadn’t worked out, but I’d never heard her get vindictive about them, and she went out on weekends like anyone else, drank a little too much on occasion and lamented the fact on Monday mornings. On the surface, she was normal. The only thing that had made her stand out was that she would actually talk to me. She had never made fun of my geeky interests, and she even knew about some of the things I liked. Maybe that had been the first clue to what I was seeing here. When it had come down to it, she’d been willing to do what needed to be done. Hell, she’d driven into a horde of zombies to save my ass less than an hour after shit had truly started to hit the fan.

“Okay,” I said. “Keep your ears open as much as your eyes. The fences should stop most undead a long ways from us so the road is pretty much the only approach for zombies. Other survivors are the biggest danger, and fences aren’t going to slow them down much.” She nodded and grabbed the M-4 from the bench beside her.

“You know how to use that?” I asked her.