Deadland's Harvest (25 page)

Thirty-two Fox survivors remained after the fire, but more should have survived. Most of those who died were lost below decks when they went in to grab their possessions. It was a funny thing how, even at the end of the world, people were so attached to their possessions that they risked their lives for them.

The final casualty, Don, was found dead this morning when he didn’t wake. Doc figured the man had succumbed to an internal injury since his lower back was bruised and distended. His daughter, Alana, refused to let go of him and had to be dragged away. She screamed until she fainted.

The snow covered everything in a light blanket of white, making the world look deceptively clean. The house smelled like pungent smoke since no one had washed up last night, and we only had the smoky, filthy clothes on our backs. It took nearly an hour to hook up the only surviving portable generator to the well pump, and another four hours for everyone to wash up with ice cold water.

We didn’t get on the road until noon, and we had no breakfast or lunch served. Vicki, with some help from Joe, had collected wild leaves and made tea to curb everyone’s hunger. About a dozen of us, who always wore “every day carry” packs, had protein bars and water filters. I’d given one of my bars to Benji but none to anyone else. It wasn’t because I was selfish. It was because we needed to maintain our strength so we could find food for the others. It didn’t stop people from eying me with disdain as I zipped up my backpack and slid it over my shoulders, though.

Clutch and Tyler had constantly told people to always carry emergency bags, but few actually did. I wanted to tell each and every one of them to fuck off, that I’d gladly give any one of them a bar if they were willing to go find food. Except they didn’t want to earn the bar. They just wanted the handout.

“Let’s load up,” Tyler announced to the room full of people, without making eye contact with anyone.

I frowned. Always before, Tyler had an underlying warm tone to his words. Since yesterday, everything he said was hard and to the point. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, and he didn’t even respond when Vicki hugged him. It was like he’d completely closed himself off from everyone.

“I’ll take the lead vehicle,” Tyler said. “Griz and Jase will take the scout vehicle. They will advance ahead of the convoy and recon any houses for food. Clutch and Cash will cover our flank. We’ll head north until we can safely cross the river. We’ll stop outside the first town we reach today to split up and search for food. Any questions?”

“Why don’t we stay here?” someone asked. “Have the scouts go for food like they’ve always done.”

“Since we know the area around the river has already been picked clean, we need to move on. There’s nothing here for us.”

“What’s our destination?” Frost asked. Diesel sprawled around Benji, both napping next to the older man. Frost had never given the dog any food meant for people, but when the
Aurora
burned so had all of Diesel’s kibble. The dog, just like everyone else, no longer had anything to eat. Already, the griping had started. Complaints that the dog would take precious food.

Complaining about a dog wasn’t a serious issue, but it revealed the mood of Camp Fox. If relationships were collapsing the first day on the road, we wouldn’t last three days before everyone was at one another’s throats.

“We’re heading back toward Fox Hills since we’re familiar with the area and the herds should’ve passed through there at least a week ago. We’ll stop along the way at any place that’s safe and has food, including every military base and armory so we can replenish our gear.”

“What if we don’t find food,” someone else asked, and several others chimed in agreement.

Tyler didn’t even pause. “Then we go hungry.”

After Tyler’s uncharacteristically harsh response, no one else voiced any more questions.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone had split into four Humvees, one HEMTT, and the two gas trucks. With fewer people and no gear, all other vehicles were left behind simply because we didn’t need them anymore.

Less than an inch of snow covered the ground, so we didn’t have to deal with shitty road conditions on top of everything else. Griz and Jase pulled out first in Bravo team’s Humvee—the one with a pinup girl painted on the hood—and disappeared out of sight. Clutch and I had time to wait since we would be the last vehicle to head out. I was glad I was with Clutch rather than Tyler since Tyler’s mood had been so sour since the fire.

Not that anyone was in a cheerful mood.

I drove, and Clutch stood behind the .30 cal. We’d decided we would switch positions every hour so neither of us would get too cold. This morning, we’d counted our rounds that we kept in the Humvee. Just over two hundred for our rifles and fourteen hundred for the machine gun. Not bad, but I would’ve liked to have had ten times that for a cross-country trip.

Tyler led the convoy and he kept us slow, below thirty miles per hour. That speed allowed plenty of time to prepare for any zeds that discovered us, and made it easy for Clutch and me to alternate positions. The slow progress also allowed for a chance to admire the beautiful day outside. Snow dusted the trees lining both sides of the winding river road. A gentle breeze pressed against the branches, sending maple seeds spinning to the ground like tiny helicopters. The sense of peace was surreal, given all the chaos in our lives over the past several days.

Jase reported in on the radio every thirty minutes. He and Griz had found a dented can of creamed corn under a kitchen counter at one farm. Two other farms offered nothing, and all three farms had clearly been looted. Whether the looters were still alive or not, we couldn’t know, so Tyler warned Griz and Jase to proceed with caution.

The road map showed that the closest bridge over the Mississippi was near Parkerstown. If the zeds had cleared out of town, Tyler announced we’d camp there for the night after searching every store and house. With a large sporting goods store, it offered the possibility to restock gear. That was, if it hadn’t been looted yet. 

The convoy came to a stop before us, and I craned my head out the window to see why. “Do you see anything?” I asked Clutch.

“Everything looks clear up ahead,” he replied.

Tyler’s voice came over the radio.
“Contact across the river in the trees. Looks like a single troop with eyes on us.”

I scanned the tree line across the river, but didn’t see anyone. “Do you see him yet?”

A moment passed. “I have him,” Clutch said. “Looks Army issue.”

“Scout vehicle to proceed with extreme caution. Make contact only if you’re confident he’s Army. Report back in ten.”

Griz’s response came.
“Roger. Scout vehicle closing in now.”
Then he tacked on,
“If he’s military, he’s a damn beautiful sight.”

I scowled at the idea of Jase and Griz heading blindly into a possible ambush. Tyler and Griz had far more faith in an altruistic military structure than I did. I’d figured that the world collapsing didn’t exclude the military. Still, we needed food, shelter, and protection. If this guy was the real deal, then we couldn’t
not
make contact.

After a few more minutes, the convoy moved forward again. The next hour was tense as I kept waiting to hear from Griz, but there still was no response by the time we reached Parkerstown. Rather than leading us into town, Tyler brought the convoy to the huge store not far from the river.

We parked in the open parking lot. Several snow-covered cars sat, but there were no fresh tire tracks or footprints in the snow. The glass entrance doors were shattered, leaving the building wide open. Joe and Bryce pulled their Humvee close to the entrance. They stepped out and after a minute of looking inside, they walked through the doors.

They emerged about fifteen minutes later. One pulled out his handheld radio, and Bryce’s voice came through. “
All clear. Not a single zed on initial pass. The place looks to be cleared out of ammo and guns.”
With the exception of Clutch’s handheld radio he’d had with him when we’d burned the bridge bastards, all the other handhelds were all still on board the
Aurora
, making Clutch’s a valuable commodity.

“Roger that,”
Tyler responded.
“All right everyone, we’re camping in here for the night. All scouts report to the front to make a full clearing pass. Everyone else, stay in your vehicles until I give the all-clear.”

The two gas trucks couldn’t get the same frequencies as the military vehicles, so Tyler stopped by each to relay his orders.

“That means we’re up,” Clutch said as he climbed down. We still had our rifles, but the scouts off duty when the fire broke out on the
Aurora
couldn’t get to their rifles in time. Many still had their machetes and swords, but were at a definite disadvantage if shit hit the fan now.

I grabbed my rifle and stepped outside. My boots left sooty prints in the snow. When Clutch joined my side, we headed slowly toward Tyler.

Scouts now made up about half of Camp Fox. Before the fire, three out of every four Fox survivors were scouts, and nearly all were Guardsman. Manpower had been Fox’s greatest strength. But when civilians ran out during the fire, many scouts ran in to save who and what they could. So many had been lost. Camp Fox wouldn’t intimidate any enemy now.

As we approached the huge store, I noticed the pile of burnt bodies near the building. Still covered with snow, I could only assume—and hope—they were zeds. I stepped through the doors. Glass crunched under my boots.

Inside, we walked under a ceiling of antlers that led to a wide-open space of clothes and merchandise. Much of it had been knocked over and shoved into piles. “Spread out,” Tyler said. “Stay in pairs and yell if you come across a tango.” He pointed to each team and then in a direction for them to head. After he motioned for us to head toward the boat section, Clutch and I started walking.

As we searched our section, I couldn’t help but admire the rows of new boats and jet skis. “This place is a goldmine.”

“I agree. There’s plenty of gear still here that we can use,” he said. “But I’d bet any food is as far gone as the ammo. We’d better find something for everyone by tomorrow or else their moods are going to turn shitty.”

“Shittier, you mean,” I said with a smirk, and we continued our search.

After making sure the store was absolutely, positively clear of zeds, Camp Fox was reestablished for the night in the hunting area toward the back of the store. The entrance was blocked off with a Humvee.

As people settled in new clothes and sleeping bags, Tyler tried to reach Griz and Jase on the handheld, but the signal was weak in the building. He decided it wasn’t worth the risk of going outside after dark, and set up his sleeping pad and bag next to the wall.

“Do you want Clutch and me to go check on them?” I asked hopefully. The idea of being safe and comfortable while Jase and Griz was who-knew-where and caught up in who-knew-what seemed like a betrayal, and the guilt was eating at me.

Tyler didn’t look up. “No. Get some rest.”

“They might be looking for us.”

“We need to keep everyone as centrally located as possible. I can’t risk sending out scouts at night. I’ll try to reach them again in the morning.”

I never moved and watched him for a moment. He had his hands in his pocket and he seemed to be staring off into nowhere, though his jaw was clenched tight. “You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

I stood there for another long moment and finally sighed. “Okay. Sleep tight.”

I started to walk away, but then Tyler said something I couldn’t hear.

“What’s that?” I asked.

He nearly collapsed as he sat down. He rubbed his temples before looking up. “I screwed up.”

I frowned and took a seat next to him. I placed a hand on his shoulder. “How so?”

“The fire.” He leaned back against the wall. “It’s my fault.”

Confused, I cocked my head. “How is it your fault? The plan was solid. No one knew the bridge wouldn’t hold.”

“I ordered the mission. It’s my fault.”

Clutch, who’d just walked up, handed Tyler and me each a plastic bottle with a price tag still on it. “Water,” he said. “It may still have a bit of charcoal taste, but it’s okay to drink.”

“Thanks,” I said and waited for Tyler to continue. When he didn’t, I did. “Someone had to take charge on the
Aurora
or else we would’ve kept debating until it was too late. You may have ordered the mission, but I volunteered for it. If you’re looking for blame, it falls on every single person in this room. We’re all in this together. Wins, losses, they belong to all of us.”

Tyler’s lips pursed and he looked off to the side.

“You know something?” Clutch asked after taking a drink from his own bottle. “If you didn’t feel the weight of making tough decisions, then I couldn’t ever respect you. I’ve got to admit, I didn’t like you at first. I wanted to kick your ass, to tell the truth, but you earned my respect. You’re the right leader for Camp Fox. You’re not afraid to lead but you’ve also held onto your compassion. That’s rare nowadays. You’re exactly what we need.”