Deadland's Harvest (18 page)

“Hopefully we don’t have to worry about the
Lady Amore
any time soon,” I said. Immediately after Sorenson’s death, Tyler had organized a truce with Sorenson’s men. He’d offered them full pardons in exchange for no more attacks. He’d even offered another chance at the trade agreement, which they’d quickly accepted. However, many of us weren’t nearly as confident as Tyler was that they wouldn’t seek revenge or try to steal from us again. The riverboat had left minutes after we’d returned Sorenson’s body back along with his two men, and the boat hadn’t returned.

“I still think we should’ve gone in and hit them hard. They know they’re outgunned and they wouldn’t try something stupid again,” Clutch said. “It all depends on Sorenson’s replacement. They could be smart and know the value of working together, or they could be idiots. We’ll have to stay on our toes until we know. It’s too bad Sorenson killed himself. He was easy to figure out. He was a straight shooter, except that he let his heart get in the way. Whoever replaces him could be more of a challenge.”

I nodded and then smiled. “At least we have his speedboat now. I’m looking forward to going for a ride.” Tyler had given Sorenson’s men one of our deck boats in a “trade” for their speedboat. He wasn’t about to let them leave with our .30 cal again.

A light breeze blew through, and I shivered. My clothes were damp from the fog and offered little warmth. I held the thermos against me. “I need to start wearing a jacket.”

“Here,” Clutch said as he wrapped an arm around me.

I leaned into him, savoring his warmth and the closeness. We sat and watched as the sun burned through the fog. A low haze sat just above the water, but I could see the land over it.

“Look.” I pointed to the riverbank. “The zeds have cleared out on the east side. You’re right. They’re leaving.”

Clutch twisted his neck to take in the landscape. “Yeah, but they’re still on the bridge and on the west side.”

“Hopefully just one more day of us laying low and they’ll leave like the others.”

“Hey guys,” Wes said through a yawn as he approached.

“Mornin’,” I said, climbing to my feet.

Wes took a seat on the deck behind the rail where I’d been sitting. The boat was angled in the water in a way that allowed us to watch the bridge and see land from every direction without being seen by the zeds. “Man, I’d rather still be asleep.”

“That’s all everyone does anymore,” Clutch grumbled. He used his cane to push himself to his feet and looked at me. “Feel up to some sparring?”

“You bet.” I turned to Wes. “Don’t have too much fun.”

He scowled, and I headed off with Clutch.

Clutch had a point. Once the critical repairs had been made to the
Aurora
, there was little left that could be done quietly. It didn’t take more than a couple days of relative safety for laziness to set in. Hell, if I didn’t have Clutch’s persistence at having me spar with him and Jase’s contagious energy, I’d be heading back to bed right now out of boredom.

As we walked across the deck, I watched Clutch’s legs as his stride nearly matched mine. “You’re healing really fast now. I can already tell a huge difference from yesterday.”

“Doc said that healing would happen in bursts. All I can tell you is that it can’t happen soon enough. I’m sick and tired of being a cripple.”

I rolled my eyes, because Clutch may be a lot of things, but he was no cripple. He proved it during our sparring session in the towboat’s engine room. Even though his legs were weak, his upper body strength more than made up for it. I almost got in a high kick once, but he’d taken me down with him. I imagined it would always be that way: Clutch the master, me the student. He had too many more years of experience.

After a day of doing little, as the sun began to set, we headed to the commons area in Barge Two to meet Jase for dinner. The area was already filled with people. I stepped into the line while Clutch spoke with Tyler. I looked for Jase, but he wasn’t at our usual spot on the floor yet.

I grabbed a tray, and Vicki, Fox’s best cook, slid chunks of white meat onto my tray.

My eyes narrowed. “Fish?”

Vicki nodded. “They finished the nets this morning and fished off the south end of the island so the zeds wouldn’t see. Fish for everyone tonight!”

I grinned. “Awesome.”

Normally, the fishermen caught no more than a dozen fish using fishing poles. They figured the zeds rotting in the shallow waters scared them off. The livestock from the fire was being dehydrated for the winter, so we’d been living on canned meat, beans, and grain. As I worked my way through line, I noticed everyone was in a better mood. The fresh fish, the zeds starting to disappear, and the repairs to the
Aurora
relatively complete gave everyone hope.

I sat down on the floor and dug into the fish.

Jase sat down a minute later with his food. “What kind of fish is this?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“It’s catfish,” Frost said as he and Benji ate a few feet away from us. Diesel had his head buried in a bowl of dog kibble.

The fish suddenly went down like a rock. “Catfish?”

“Wait,” Jase said. “Isn’t catfish a bottom feeder?”

“Yes, why?” Frost said.

Jase’s eyes widened as he looked at me. “Didn’t anyone tell the cooks?”

“Tell them what?” Frost asked.

I dropped my fork. “Bottom feeders are tainted from feeding on zeds. Sorenson said they’d lost a crew member to bad catfish.”

Frost grabbed Benji’s hand that held a fork full of white meat, but the boy had already cleaned much of his plate.

“Maybe these fish are okay,” Jase said to the pair before giving me an
oh-shit
look.

We jumped to our feet at the same time.

“Where are you going?” Clutch asked as Jase and I ran past.

“To warn Vicki,” Jase said.

I took the stairs two at a time to reach the kitchen faster. Halfway up the second flight, a stomach cramp doubled me over.

I felt Jase’s hand on my cheek. “Cash, are you okay?”

I clenched my teeth as I grabbed my stomach. “Bad fish.”

The day was a horrifying blur of dry heaves, chills, high fever, and bizarre dreams. All around me, people moaned and cried. They lay in bed, the slightest move causing them to retch.

Jase and Clutch took turns at my bedside. They helped me and the others without rest. Since neither had eaten the catfish, they hadn’t gotten sick. They were in the minority. Thirty-three residents had eaten the tainted meat. They kept all of us in barge Number One and had opened the bay door to let in fresh air.

By night, I finally regained some semblance of myself. I felt like I had one foot solidly in the grave, but I’d lived to see another day. Others weren’t so fortunate. I’d seen Mrs. Corrington covered with a sheet and carried out. What a miserable way to die.

Clutch squeezed water from a rag into my mouth. The other healthy people
,
like Jase and him, constantly moved about, checking on the sick. Meanwhile, others filled in as scouts above deck to keep watch for the herds or any signs of trouble from the riverboat. Deb was the only person who hadn’t eaten the fish that Tyler wouldn’t allow to help. Her pregnancy had come to represent the hope of Camp Fox. Tyler didn’t want her around anything that could pose a risk to her pregnancy. After Tyler’s adamant orders, she’d reluctantly stayed in the crew quarters on the towboat.

I rolled my head to see Jase still with Benji, who was up to eating crackers already. That kid had a cast iron stomach. If only I’d remembered to tell the cooks what Sorenson had said about the fish, then none of this would’ve happened. I felt so stupid, but was too weak to stay angry at myself. No one had remembered to tell the cooks. Jase blamed himself, and I’d seen Tyler’s face when he walked through. He blamed himself the hardest of all.

Twenty-four hours later, I could finally hold down small amounts of water, and Clutch was relentless at sponging drops into my mouth every couple minutes.

The poor man looked utterly exhausted, with dark circles and bags under his bloodshot eyes. I licked my chapped lips. Sometimes, a pessimistic devil sitting in my soul would make me wonder if all of this running and work was in vain, that all we were doing was delaying our inevitable doom.

I lifted my fingers, though they weighed a ton, and touched his hand that was holding the rag. “You should get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” he said rather tersely, making it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Can’t believe I ate catfish,” I said on an exhale.

He shook his head and dribbled more water into my mouth. “You couldn’t have known.”

I closed my eyes.

“You’re going to get better,” he said. “You don’t give up. That’s why I brought you with me to my farm at the outbreak. I knew you were a fighter.”

When I reopened my eyes, I saw Clutch watching me, taking his eyes off me only to soak the rag again. Sitting there, his broad shoulders cast a shadow over me. His quiet strength showed through his gaze. When he looked at me, I always knew I’d be safe.

I grinned, weakly. “You’re an oak.”

His confused expression tightened into a look of consternation. He pressed a hand against my forehead, and I treasured his touch.

I needed him to know the truth. “I love you,” I said, but my words slurred. My eyes grew heavy.

“What’s wrong?” Jase asked, sounding distant.

“Get Doc. She’s got a fever.”

“Mary Corrington had a fever right before—”

“I know. Get Doc
now
.”

The Fifth Deadly Sin

Lucky for me, I was both younger and healthier than Mrs. Corrington. My fever of one-hundred-four broke the following morning, but it took me an entire day before I could stand without getting a nosebleed, and another day after that before I could handle a flight of stairs without getting light-headed.

I woke up early in the morning, quietly climbed out of my bunk, and crept past Clutch. He’d been able to move down to the crew quarters once he had no longer needed his wheelchair. Being careful not to wake him, I grabbed my boots, clothes, and gear and headed up to the deck. I stopped in the shower room to finish dressing. Since the catfish incident, I’d lost a few pounds and had to buckle my belt a full notch tighter. Not that I’d had any fat on me before, which meant my body had burned through muscle, and, Christ, I was feeling it.

That was just one of the little things that had changed after the outbreak: there simply weren’t overweight people anymore. Without proper food and medical care, things like food poisoning or dysentery were even more dangerous than ever. Everyone who’d gotten sick from the catfish had a gaunt look. At least everyone who’d survived. We’d lost four to bad catfish.

I took a seat on a bench and inhaled deeply the smell of fresh coffee as it finished brewing. Moments later, I poured myself a small cup and headed outside. I walked slowly so I wouldn’t slip on the deck still slick with frost. The coffee steamed, and my breath made small puffs in the morning air.

I slurped the coffee, holding the warm cup in both hands, and tried not to shiver. The warm sun was rising, and its light glistened on the wet deck. I headed to my usual spot that overlooked the open river. A light morning fog blanketed the water. An eagle soared above the tree line. It was beautiful, serene. And the best part? No zeds. They’d finally moved off while I’d been sick.

I really thought I wasn’t going to make it. I’d never felt so miserable in my life. Thankfully, I didn’t remember much of the past couple days. Only Clutch’s gentle touch and him never leaving my side.

I set down my coffee and started my yoga routine. Sometime during Downward Facing Dog, Clutch bent over and looked at me.

“Mornin’,” I said with a smile.

He stood back up. “I called your name three times.”

“You did? Oh. I guess I was in my zone.”

“It’s good to see you getting back into a routine,” he said.

As I changed position, I saw him looking out over the river.

“I feel fine, other than the fact that my body thinks it was in bed for a month instead of days. I can promise you that I’d rather starve than eat catfish ever again.”

“You had me worried there for a while,” Clutch said.

I stopped and turned to find him watching me with a strange intensity, his eyes full of emotion. Then he quickly turned away. Disappointment panged in my heart. “Well, moving around in the fresh air and stretching has helped as much as anything. It’s nice that the zeds left so I can do yoga outside rather than in the dark, stuffy boat.”

“We still have to be careful. Yesterday, Jase saw a couple small groups still in the area. There.” He pointed. “And there.”

I squinted and couldn’t find them, but my vision had never been as good as Jase’s. “As long as they’re not fixated on the
Aurora,
they shouldn’t draw any interest of the herds.” I stood up and grabbed my coffee.

He took in a deep breath. “Kurt returned from another Jet Ski trip to the north. He thinks the first herd will pass through this area by tomorrow. Tyler wants all boats and a couple Humvees out today to search the area for anything we can possibly grab before the herds arrive. Fuel, food, chickens, anything. We don’t know how long we’ll have to lay low once they arrive.”

I clapped my hands. “I’m ready.”

He smirked. “Feeling cooped up?”

“Feeling
very
cooped up.”

“Sounds like exactly how I felt being stuck in that wheelchair.”

“You were a bit grumpy,” I teased.

“Speaking of grumpy, how about you go wake up Jase so we can head out.”

I lowered my arms from my stretch. “Want to play rock-paper-scissors for the honor?” By honor, I meant who had to deal with getting a pillow—or worse—thrown at them by a teenager whose one last pleasure he’d held onto from pre-outbreak days was sleeping in late whenever he could. Today was supposed to be one of those days.

Clutch shook his head. “Hell, no. I had to wake him last time. It’s your turn.”

I scrunched my nose at him and then tossed him my empty cup. “Fine. Wish me luck.”

As I trudged toward to the galley, I could hear Clutch chuckling.

When I reached Jase’s bed, I grabbed the spear lying next to his cot and took a step back. With four feet of space between us, I gently poked at the pile of blankets with the flat end of the spear. A grumble emerged, and the blankets wiggled. “Go away.”

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” I said softly in a
singsong voice.

I grinned when he grumbled louder and rolled over, taking the blankets with him and leaving his back exposed. “Lemme sleep.”

Too easy,
I thought to myself. I ran the dull wood bottom of the spear up his spine, and the insanely ticklish teenager jerked up.

He whipped around and went to throw his pillow but held onto it, which was a good thing. It wouldn’t have taken much to land me flat on my ass.

I laughed.

He scowled and hugged his pillow. “Not cool.”

I laughed. “Rise and shine. We’ve got a run this morning.”

I think he might have actually growled at me, but he did kick his blankets away and sat up. I handed him his spear and he plucked it back.

“I’ll see you in the galley,” I said, still chuckling, and left him rubbing his eyes.

An hour later, after Jase had time to ingest caffeine and some breakfast, he was back to his usual self. The boats had already left on their scouting runs. We were one of the two teams assigned to make a land run. Jase, Clutch, and I took one Humvee, while Griz and two other scouts took another.

Our Humvee was the easiest to spot out of all Camp Fox’s Humvees. It had a coyote head painted on the hood and front doors, thanks to Jase. He’d dubbed our team the Charlie Coyotes and the name had stuck. Luckily, only one zed still lingered around our vehicles this morning. Jase easily dispatched it, and we headed out for a day of adventure.

The plan was that we’d drive east and Griz’s team would drive west, since it was far too risky to drive north. We’d check out rural gas stations and farms and meet at the boat ramp in four hours. If any of us succeeded in finding fuel, the six of us would bring a fuel truck with a Humvee lead vehicle back to the places to fill up. Getting the diesel to the ramp was the easy part. Getting the diesel onto the
Aurora
would be a bit more complicated since we had to move it in fifty-five-gallon drums on pontoons.

Jase took his favorite position manning the .30 cal on the back of Charlie team’s Humvee. He had a warm leather coat on to fight the late fall chill in the air. I drove. Clutch was by far a better driver, but since his legs were still healing, he rode shotgun.

I drove slowly, even though we had a lot of ground to cover. We had to be careful to avoid the river towns that dotted the river. The good thing with towns every ten miles or so was that zeds tended to group together and hover around populated areas rather than in the fields and around farms. The bad thing was that we couldn’t find a single rural gas station clear of zeds. “I guess the fuel will have to wait until after the migration,” I said.

“Let’s see what else we can find,” Clutch said. “Try that gravel road.”

We searched farms for the next three hours, finding only a few dozen cans of food, which we tossed into duffle bags. As I turned off a gravel road and onto the winding river highway, I hit the brakes. “Shit. You see that?”

“They’re not biters,” Jase called out from above. “What’s the plan?”

A group of ragged survivors were standing near a vehicle in the intersection. The van hadn’t been there when we’d passed through the area a few hours earlier. Steam pouring out of the open hood gave hint at why it was there now.

It was a group of mostly women, and they looked in rough shape. A man stood by the hood. A hunched-back elderly woman stood in the middle of the road, staring off into the distance. A teenaged girl stood near a little girl playing hopscotch. A pale woman lay against the van. They had crowbars and spears, but no one seemed to be carrying rifles or pistols. Still, it could have been a setup.

Another man walked around from the other side of the van, saw us, and started waving wildly.

Jase kneeled to our eye level. “They’ve seen us.”

“Hold on,” Clutch said before he picked up the radio. “Charlie calling Alpha.”

A couple seconds later, Griz’s voice came on the radio.
“Alpha here. Report.”

“We have a sit rep. Charlie has come across at least six survivors ten clicks straight east of the RP.”

“Are they raiders?”

“Negative. Just civvies. Looks like their vehicle broke down.”

“Alpha is heading your way. Do you want to wait for backup?”

Clutch looked at me, Jase, and then back at the group. “Negative. We’re going to check it out.”

“Roger. We’re on our way.”

He hung up the radio. “Here’s the plan. We’ll pull up close. If anything throws off a red flag, we’re out of there. We all stay with the Humvee. Only if we’re absolutely sure they’re safe, Cash and I will get out. Jase, you stay behind the .30 no matter what happens. You never, ever leave the .30, got it?”

“Yes,” we both replied at the same time. We’d been together for enough months that we understood one another.

Clutch checked his rifle one more time. “Okay, Cash, take us in nice and slow.”

As we approached, the man quit waving and stood between us and the woman propped against the van. The little girl stopped playing her game and jogged over to stand by the man. The other man, the one who’d been standing behind the hood, grabbed the teenaged girl and pulled her to him.

Clutch rolled his window down.

I pulled up alongside the van and stopped, but left the engine running.

The craggy old woman limped over to us first. Her hands were gnarled with arthritis that looked like it’d taken over much of her body. How she’d survived this long was beyond me.

“I need you all to stay at least four feet back,” Clutch ordered.

Her gray eyebrows rose, but then she stopped and smiled warmly. “Oh, I’m not any danger to you, I promise. I knew God would answer my prayers. He’s never let me down yet. He’s really outdone himself this time, sending one of those big Army trucks and strapping, able-bodied young men,” she said, her voice crackly. She noticed me and touched her chest. “Oh my. Young men and woman. Well, God bless you for coming. Your timing couldn’t have been better. You see, we’ve gotten ourselves into a pickle.” She motioned her people. “We’ve been on the road for days, only stopping for gas and rest breaks, and I’m afraid we overworked our poor van. Praise the lord for sending you to our rescue.”

“Save your prayers, lady. God didn’t send us,” Clutch said with a grumble. “It was just luck we happened to be passing through.”

She chuckled. “Well, you can call it what you like. It’s all the same. You’re here now. I can’t tell you how relieved we are to see you. I’m Margaret Fielding, but you can call me Maggie.”

Clutch nodded at her group. “Nice to meet you, Maggie. I’m Sergeant Seibert from Camp Fox. Where are you from and where are you headed?”

“Well, you get straight to business, don’t you, young man? I can understand, with all those infected folks out there. We were staying at the Wisconsin Dells, but things went downhill. We were planning to keep driving until we found another group of God-fearing folks like yourselves. In fact, you’re the first people we’ve seen since we’ve left. I must admit, when our van broke down, my faith was tested. But as soon as I saw your truck, I knew everything would turn out fine.”

Clutch didn’t speak for a long moment while he scowled at Maggie while she continued chattering away. When he finally spoke, he pointed to the pale woman sitting against the van, and interrupted. “What’s wrong with her? Is she bit?”

Maggie turned. “Thank goodness, no. When we ran, Brenda cut herself on some old tin, and I’m afraid it’s become infected and she’s caught herself a bit of a fever. We’ve cleaned it as much as we could, but we don’t have any bandages or medicine. I don’t suppose you happen to have anything that can help her?”

After a moment, he took in a deep breath and grabbed our first aid kit. “I’ll take a look.”

“Oh, thank you,” Maggie said, clasping her hands together.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him, but he didn’t make eye contact. He propped his rifle on his seat, unsnapped his holster, swung open the door, and stepped out with his cane in one hand and the kit in the other.

I put the Humvee in Park, grabbed my rifle and stepped out. I only took a few steps and propped my rifle on the hood so that I could get behind the wheel quickly while also keeping a clear view of Clutch and the refugees. I threw a quick glance at Jase to see he had the .30 cal leveled on the refugees.