Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation (18 page)

Lifting
the latch, which was thankfully unlocked, Marcus slipped out the door and
hurried for the water’s edge. No one noticed his passage, and he clambered over
the perimeter wall, dropping to the soft dirt beyond. There was a line of
beached rowboats, and he took one, quickly paddling for shore. Again, luck was
with him, and no alarms sounded. Reaching the far bank, Marcus headed straight
to where they left their vehicles. Both SUVs were gone.

What to
do? What to do?

Marcus
looked up, located the north star, and turned in the opposite direction. With a
final glance at the glittering lights of the island settlement, he began to jog,
foregoing the road. There were always fewer zombies in the fields and woods,
and Marcus needed to avoid the dead if he was to have any chance of returning
home.

Chapter VI

“Briana
is going to be mad,” said Mary.

“Don’t I
know it.” I shook my head, feeling ill at ease. “There’s no alternative that I
can see. Any of you got an idea?”

“Nothing
here,” replied Lizzy. “I’m with you. What do you two think?”

Dale
looked at Tara. Tara looked back at her twin brother. Neither said a word.

“See,”
remarked Mary, “they think Briana will be mad, just like me.”

“The
raiders are no longer a viable military threat,” pointed out Captain Briggs. He
ignored Mary and the siblings. “You don’t have to pursue.”

“Won’t
stop them from trying to murder people or blow stuff up,” I countered. “They
will want revenge. Can’t risk it. Can’t leave them alone either.”

We were
sitting beneath the HQ tarp at our hilltop supply base, although referring to
it as such was no longer accurate. There wasn’t any need to store ammunition,
food, water, weapons, and so forth, nor was there any call to cart it to the
front lines. The battle for Yellowstone was over.

“We have
to keep at it,” stated Lizzy. “Those fuckers need to be made extinct.” She drew
her .45 and tossed it to Dale. “Clean that for me. I hate watching the two of
you just standing there doing nothing. Fucking creeps me out.”

The
pistol was completed dismantled within seconds, the pair examining each piece
to ensure nothing needed to be replaced or serviced.

“Hey!”
protested Mary. “No taking advantage like that. It’s not nice.”

“Girl,
they’re having way more fun with my gun than they were listening to us go on
and on and on.”

I said
nothing. Lizzy was likely doing them a favor. The twins were never far away,
regardless of what I wanted. However, that did not mean they were enjoying
themselves. The pair rarely contributed, and there wasn’t a gossipy bone in
their bodies. They did not discuss or divulge secrets. For the most part, the
duo just stood there doing nothing. Tara and Dale had to find this incredibly
tedious.

“We are
leaving tomorrow,” I announced. “We’ve delayed long enough.”

“I can’t
spare anyone to help,” cautioned Briggs, “other than pilots. We lost too many,
and I need to shift the manpower I have to blocking off the park so the zombies
can’t get in. Our terrain is nowhere as accommodating as the Black Hills, and
it’s a whole lot more expansive. We see the random one too often as it is. I
hate to think how easy it would be for a couple of them to lead a herd here
like they did at your place.”

“Your
own fault for picking such a big place to live.” Mary’s tone held little humor.
The teenager was still upset over the hundreds of children, possibly thousands,
we had killed, not to mention the women and other non-combatants who may or may
not have been innocent. “You do have lots of trees though. Trees are good. You
can make them into furniture.”

“They
are still in Idaho, as far as we know,” continued Captain Briggs. “The islands
are watching via satellite, and no vehicles have been seen on any of the open
roads. Our flights have spotted a few campfires, likely theirs. They’re moving
around a great deal but haven’t scattered.”

“How
many are there?” I asked. “Do we have an updated count?”

“Best
estimate remains at less than a hundred.” He shrugged. “I have no way to be
more specific. We’re still basing that on the raiders who we know escaped and
the two small bands that were seen linking up after. There may be quite a few
more, but that’s conjecture.”

“I hate
being outnumbered,” grumbled Lizzy.

“We’re
always outnumbered,” commented Mary. “Who cares anyway? We got us helicopters.”

“Mind
your grammar,” I ordered.

She
snorted, and I glared.

“What
are we taking with us?” asked Lizzy.

“Two
squads of ten each. Harvey will lead one. You get the other. Mary’s going to
work our communications. The twins and I will be an independent sniper team or
whatever is needed. Twenty four people total.”

“What
about Michael and Lori and Rus and Sam?” asked Mary.

“Michael
and Lori can be on Lizzy’s team, if they want to go. They have some vague
familiarity with the area, and having a few more wouldn’t hurt.”

“Would
be useful,” said Lizzy. “Put Tim on Harvey’s team. I don’t want him with
Michael, and he’ll react better to Harvey anyway. They get along pretty well.”

My
daughter scowled. “Leave the whiner behind. I don’t want him anywhere near any
of us. He’s been acting really weird.”

“Tim can
go with Harvey. I’m only leaving the wounded behind and anyone who’s a little
too stressed…”

“That’s
fucking everyone,” interrupted Lizzy.

“It is
bad,” agreed the captain. “We’ve already begun counseling for many of the survivors,
wounded and uninjured alike.”

“You
both know what I mean,” I clarified. “You can keep the few with key skills
while we’re gone, like Carlson. Have him do any demolition work or blasting you
might need, if there is any.” I paused. “The brothers, Sam and Rus, are no
longer working with us, ever again. I strongly recommend you follow suit.”

“Yeah,”
said Mary, “I probably shouldn’t have brought them up. That was kinda stupid. I
was just rattling off all the guys who volunteered. Didn’t mean it.”

The
younger one, Sam, was currently rotting in the Yellowstone stockade while Rus
was laid up in the hospital until such time he was fit enough to join his
brother. Following the victory, or slaughter depending on one’s point of view,
the two had celebrated, cracking open bottle after bottle of homemade brew.
Somewhat annoyed that no one else felt like partying, they had drifted through the
camp until they ran into our grizzled, white haired Vietnam vet. Carlson
informed them that killing kids was nothing to be proud of. The two took
offense and told him to shut the fuck up. Carlson, not to be outdone when it
comes to having a foul temper, made some particularly nasty comments right
back.

It was
Rus who took the first swing, and this was against a man more than three times
his age. Normally, such a thing would end badly for our friend, but Carlson was
sober, the brothers plastered, and he had years of training and combat
experience. The old man ducked the wild punch and landed a quick jab of his own
on the nineteen year old’s nose. The blow knocked the lad flat on his ass.

Sam then
leapt at Carlson. This was met by a forearm to the base of his throat and a
knee to his crotch. That boy was completely out of the fight. Rus went
ballistic, scrambled back to his feet, and pulled a knife. Carlson drew his sidearm
and put a bullet in Rus’s leg, being conscientious enough to avoid the bone and
femoral artery. The doctors said it would heal.

My first
reaction was to hang both of them. Instead, I left it to the leadership in
Yellowstone National Park. Aside from the potential trouble my meting out summary
justice might have caused, which likely would have been substantial if I killed
the brothers, they had a policy of forced labor for troublemakers. With all the
work that needed to be done, it was probably for the best. Rus was going to be
spending the next ten years wearing shackles and doing hard labor. Sam, who
never pulled a weapon, would get six months.

“So,” I
said, “we head out in the morning with twenty four people. Xavier, Kimberly,
and the other pilots will stay here. They can keep up the scouting flights, and
if I need them, they can come in with one or more of the helicopters. I’ll have
to get a better idea of what we’re facing before I request those. No sense
having them burn fuel until then.”

“The
Cessnas are better for patrolling,” agreed Briggs, with a nod. “All three Pave
Hawks have been serviced and are ready to go, but the Cobra has an issue with
its engine. It appears to be a small thing, and the mechanics think that will
be sorted out in a day or two. I expect it to be working before you require
it.”

I love
the Cobra.

“Can you
have a mechanic check on my Jeep too?” I asked. “It’s been vibrating when I
accelerate, so I won’t be taking it this time.”

“Can’t
let anything happen to the Jeep,” intoned Mary. “That would be the worst thing
ever.”

“God
forbid,” agreed Lizzy.

“Weird
to not have it around though,” my daughter added.

It had
been a constant on my travels and travails. I took it everywhere.

“I’ll
take care of it,” said the captain, reassuringly. “What are you going to use
for transportation?”

“I’m
thinking a few of the four wheel drive pickups and plenty of dirt bikes. We
recovered enough from the raiders. They are suited to the terrain, and since
the bad guys are using the same things, we should be able to follow them no
matter where they go. I’m taking lots of extra gasoline too. I don’t see us
refueling. You know, I bet they’re running low. That might help.”

“Could
be why they’re sitting in the forest eighty some miles from here,” commented Briggs.
“Hard to say. We don’t know if they have any supply dumps in the area. Even if
not, they might still find gas somewhere nearby.”

“That’s
fucking hard to do nowadays,” said Lizzy. “Outside of old gas stations and the
occasional tanker truck, it’s mostly all gone.”

“We have
the advantage there no matter what,” I replied. “All right, you go find Harvey
and get your teams selected and sorted out. Everyone else gets to man this spot
until we’re done. I would say dismantle it now, but just in case something goes
bad, I want to have it to retreat back to. Better than going all way to
Clarksville or one of the other villages in Yellowstone.”

“I have
no objections there,” said Captain Briggs. “We may keep the hill as an outpost
anyway, since you were so kind as to dig trenches and set up latrines.”

“If you
plan on using our toilets,” remarked Mary, “you’re going to have to pay. Ten
cents a poop, but only a nickel to pee. You get a discount for that.”

*
* *

Between
our air patrols and the occasional piece of information provided by the
government – damn bureaucrats were having all the fun, lounging about in Hawaii
– getting close to the raiders turned out to be fairly easy. They continued to
linger, so we were able to move slowly and carefully. It took just three days
to draw within ten miles of where they were camped. The area was heavily
forested, which was to be expected since it was the only practical defense they
had against our aircraft. It was also quite rugged.

“Xavier
said they are on the move.”

“Really?
Where to?” I pulled a map from my vest pocket and spread it on the hood of the
pickup I was using. It was a nice enough vehicle but nothing compared to a
Wrangler. “You have GPS?”

“His
spotter caught a glimpse,” replied Mary. “They are following the mountains by
the state line, trying to stay in the forests, but they won’t be able to do
that forever.” She made a mark on the map with a pencil. “They are here and
going this way.”

It would
have been easier if they continued to sit still, but there was nothing to
prevent us from following. The plan remained intact.

“Have
Xavier pull up high and stay to the side if he can, maybe circle around a lot.
I rather the prophet not know how closely we’re tracking them, or that we are
at all if possible. Best to make it look like a regular scouting flight.”

Mary
nodded and relayed the information.

“We
moving out?” asked Lizzy.

“We are.
Go ahead and get everyone loaded up. We’ll put Harvey in the lead. He’s in a
truck, so I can keep in touch with him via radio.” Talking to those on
motorcycles, while they were driving, had proven impossible. “The terrain is
kinda iffy. We might have to follow their path exactly.”

“That’ll
fucking suck if the bastards see us.”

With the
difference in numbers, we were counting on surprise, coupled with our greater
firepower, to bring this to a satisfactory conclusion. We were far, far better
equipped. The raiders had been hammered and lost a great deal of their gear,
along with their more experienced fighters. We still had our toys, with plenty
to spare.

“We want
to close the distance but keep at least six or seven miles behind,” I said. “We
maintain that until we see an opportunity. They shouldn’t notice us if we’re
careful.”

“Unless
we end up in the open. If we go through a field, they could see us.”

“No,”
argued Mary. “They’re trying to hide too. They won’t go through a field unless
they have to, and if they do you know they’ll hurry past it as quick as they
can.”

“Listen
up, brat… Fuck it. You’re right.”

*
* *

According
to the pilots, who were doing their best to be as unobtrusive as possible, we
remained directly behind the prophet. His movement had slowed once more, but it
seemed he had a goal in mind. Rather, he continued traveling northwest,
sticking to the backcountry and avoiding towns and major roads. It was time, so
we would leave the vehicles and attack on foot in the early morning hours. Both
Xavier and Kimberly would participate.