Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 3): Salvation (24 page)

Briana
leaned in close. “I am so glad Asher is with Steph right now.”

“She’s
on a roll,” I agreed.

Mary
nodded. “No doubt.” She pranced into the room and plopped down beside Marcus.
“What you do to make Lizzy so mad?”

“Little
girl, she gets mad all on her own.”

“Marcus,
don’t you dare fucking start!”

“Calm
down before you pull out your stitches,” I ordered.

A pillow
came flying. Being soft and fluffy, it did no damage.

“Self-control,
remember?”

“Don’t
fucking self-control me either. I’m through with that shit. I’m me, and that’s
that.”

“What is
she talking about?” asked Briana.

Mary
looked just as confused. Marcus likely had no idea either, but he was still
hurting and remained flat on his back so it was hard to tell.

“Lizzy
can explain it later,” I said, “if she cares to.”

“Listen
up,” she began. “I’ll be just as angry and irate and fucking miserable as I
want!”

“Unless
Asher or another child is around,” I corrected.

She gave
me a curt nod. “Not in front of babies, but they are the only exception.”

“What
did you tell her?” I asked.

“Everything,”
said Marcus. “All that I remembered from the lake. Just finished, right before
you got here.”

“The
same stuff he said a couple days ago,” clarified Lizzy, “but with more details
on what they did, on how our people were fucking murdered. What is wrong with
everyone? Can’t we meet one decent group somewhere!”

“We’ve
met good people before,” commented Briana, “and you do need to sit still. Here,
let me see your bandages. If you tore the stitches you won’t ever be getting
out of here.”

“They’re
about to come out on their own.”

“Not for
several days yet,” said Briana, “so stop squirming while I peel the tape back.
Oh great, blood. Stupid girl.”

“Don’t
girl me, girl,” snapped Lizzy.

“I’ll
girl you all I want,” declared Briana, right back at her.

“Ladies,”
I said, “please don’t start fighting. We apparently have a new enemy that needs
to be dealt with. No civil wars until that’s over. Mary, go find a doctor or
nurse to take a look at Lizzy.”

“Maybe I
should take Lizzy to them,” said Mary, “make her do the walk of shame.”

Lizzy
slapped Briana’s hands away and got to her feet. “I’ll find the doctor myself.
They’re probably hiding in the next room, and they don’t need to be hearing
this until after you two are told. It fucking sucks.”

As she
departed, wincing with each step – Lizzy had indeed torn several stitches with
her violent movements – Marcus repeated what he had told her, complete with details.
I was not overly surprised. Our luck works in screwy ways, and after the good
that came with crushing the raiders, there had to be something bad following.
Briana and Mary appeared distraught, especially Briana.

“I do
not want you leaving home again,” she stated, looking at me with her lovely
green eyes. “Damn it, Jacob, I just got you back.”

“We have
to do something,” protested Mary. “They kidnap visitors and feed them to
zombies. That’s pretty evil.”

“Oh,
it’s evil,” agreed Briana, “but is it our problem, excluding those of us who
were killed?”

“We
can’t do anything just yet,” I said. “We need Marcus back on his feet and
debriefed to see what else we can pry from his memory.”

“I’ll be
good soon. I’m about better now.”

Mary
whacked him on the forehead with an open palm. “Are not. Argue, and I’ll beat
you to death.”

“Mary,”
said Briana, “it isn’t time for your jokes. I know they help you deal, but
really.”

“Sorry.”
Her head fell.

“And
that wasn’t you getting yelled at either. That’s me not being able to deal with
your humor because I’m tired, pregnant, getting rounder by the day, and I just
know that no matter how much I hate it, both you and Jacob are going to go
running off and getting shot at again!”

“I think
you’re more stressed than me.” Mary trailed off.

“I am
not going anywhere yet,” I reiterated.

“The
word being ‘yet’,” said Briana. “Face it, we have to do something – there’s no
one else who can or will – and it’ll be mutiny if we let three of our people
getting killed that way go without some kind of punishment.”

“It’ll
be bad for any other survivors who meet them too,” pointed out Mary.

“We will
deal with it, and you can go ahead and let everyone know that we will. However,
not just yet. I want to have Harlan call the islands and get some satellite
images of that area. They can send us pictures so we have a good idea of the layout.
This is an actual town, not the random, shifting camps of the raiders. They’re
in the open too. We don’t have to sneak around to find out what’s going on. We
can use everything we have against them too. Hell, we could even have the
government deliver a couple of tanks if we wanted.”

“The
islands might be too far off to make it worth the effort,” said Marcus. “Could
use artillery if you wanted.”

“No
indiscriminately blasting children,” stated Briana.

Mary’s
smile vanished.

“Yeah,”
I said, “we do need to be careful. I don’t want a repeat.”

“Lizzy
told me about the cave.” Marcus shook his head. “Crying shame. If I was making
bad jokes like Mary here, I would say almost as bad as me losing my hat.”

“What
happened to your hat?” she asked. “You lose it? I thought it wasn’t here
because you can’t wear it while lying in bed. You lose your shoes too?”

“They’re
in my cabin. Lizzy had someone clean them up and drop em off. The hat was eaten
by a bear. I’ve worn that cowboy hat for nearly eight years. It might have been
ratty, but it was a damn fine hat.”

“Why
would you feed a bear your hat?” demanded Mary. “Don’t you know that they can
get sick.”

“It
wasn’t on purpose.”

“I
should hope not!”

“What
happened?” asked Briana.

He closed
his eyes, embarrassed. “Met a bear. It had cubs and charged, so I ran for some
rocks. My hat fell off, and the bear tore it apart. Damn thing then hung around
for three hours before finally going away. Just sat there eating and playing
with its babies.”

“That’s
one mean bear,” agreed Mary.

“Back to
the issue,” I said. “We will get satellite intelligence while Marcus recovers.
I also need Lizzy and Renee to restructure the militia. Some full timers are
getting tired of it or are worn out and want to shift to farming or something
else. Others want to move from on and off volunteer status to full time. With
those who died and some of the wounded not ever going to be able to fight
again, we really have to take the time and get sorted out, and that has to be
done before we go off on another trip.”

“I’m
tired of the good people getting killed all the time,” muttered Marcus.

“We all
are,” said Briana. She patted his shoulder. “Jacob’s right. We get the militia
redone and keep working on making the Black Hills safer. After that, we can
talk about how we deal with the lake crazies. Mary, make sure you tell your
friends that there will be payback but we need to organize and plan first. That
way everyone will know inside an hour.”

“I can
do… Hey! Not at all nice.”

“We’ll
do an official announcement, Mary,” I offered, “but go ahead and start the
rumor mill that there will be a delay so we can take care of things the right
way.”

*
* *

Five
days after Marcus returned, we celebrated Mary’s birthday. It was a good sized
party. There was Briana, Asher, and myself. Michael and his uncle were invited
of course. Marcus was there. Like Lizzy, he spent a lot of time sitting down
due to his injuries. The twins were present, as was Renee, Steph, Jenny, Laura,
and a dozen or so similarly aged friends.

As to
Michael, I had decided shortly after the incident with Tim to go ahead and
assign him to one of Randall’s work teams as a laborer / guard. This kept him
away from the town and decreased any unintentional, or intentional, gloating
Mary might do by spending every available minute with him. It also meant he
would quickly learn his way around the Black Hills. Since he wanted to be a
full time militia member, that was worthwhile.

Renee
was also of interest during the party. She had arrived early with a huge
bouquet of wildflowers which she dropped in Mary’s lap.

“Here
you go.”

“Flowers!”

“They’re
hand me downs so don’t get too excited.”

“Really?”
Mary retrieved a vase. “How so?”

The
older woman sighed. “Rudy gave them to me.”

“I heard
you went dancing with him.”

“I was
drunk. You often dance with idiots and assholes when you’re drunk.”

“It’s
true,” I said, passing by so I could set a tray of miniature sandwiches on the
table.

“Threw
up on myself that night too.”

“Shame,”
laughed Mary. “You can ruin your clothes doing that.”

“Although,
Rudy isn’t all bad.”

“Really?
Tell me the details. What have you two been doing?”

Renee
shook her head. “Mostly he flirts, like always, with everyone, but he has been
unusually attentive. I think he’s full of shit, mind you, but I can’t recall
him ever giving anybody flowers before.”

“Come to
think of it,” said Mary, tapping her lips with a single finger, “I can’t
either. Maybe he really does like you.”

“With
Rudy’s record, he is going to have to prove that several times over before I
take him serious.”

“Nobody
takes Rudy seriously,” I said, passing by on my way to collect more food from
the kitchen.

“Exactly,”
said Renee.

Interlude – Sergeant Brown’s Story

Sergeant
Brown was brought to the Black Hills by Kimberly. Xavier, always ready to spend
unproductive time with his friend – I wouldn’t be at all surprised if those two
eventually tied the knot – quickly volunteered to fly a helicopter to the
airstrip and ferry them back to the valley. The pilots then headed for the brew
house while the sergeant was escorted to the citadel to speak with me and
Briana.

“It’s
nice to meet you.”

He shook
Briana’s hand and waved at Asher who was playing with building blocks on the
carpet. My son, who witnessed no shortage of strangers coming and going, waved
back. He then knocked over his tower and promptly started rebuilding it. There
are times, frequent times, when I’d rather play with him than deal with my
adult responsibilities. This was one of them.

“My
pleasure,” replied Brown.

“Sergeant,”
I said.

“Jacob,
or do you prefer Consul?”

“Jacob’s
fine. We don’t actually use any of the titles we came up with for our
positions, outside of record keeping.”

“We are
about as informal as you can get,” agreed Briana. “So, what you got for us?”

“Mostly
what the captain said in his transmission. I’m to review the security
arrangements and defenses of the Black Hills so a preliminary evaluation of
this location’s use in clearing the dead can be made. I also have some news
about a raider we encountered.”

That
caught my interest.

“In
addition, I have formal orders relating to the transfer of the soldiers
stationed here and their families, all to Hawaii.”

While
this interlude did not begin in the manner of most – I was part of the
conversation, something that would normally be included in a proper chapter –
most of what Sergeant Brown told us was directly related to his activities or
information he received as part of his duties over at Yellowstone National
Park.

*
* *

The
sergeant was patrolling the western edge of Yellowstone where the battles had
been fought and the region to which the raiders had initially pulled back
before fleeing northwest along the Idaho border when he came across motorcycle
tracks. Crouching, he felt the dirt with his fingertips. Yes, definitely new.
The ground was soft following a light rain, and these marks were crisp and
unmarred. None of his people had been through, so it had to be an outsider. He
called it in and headed for high ground in an effort to get a better view of
the area. Planes would be coming, but Sergeant Brown was not the sort to sit
back and wait.

“Anything?”
asked Captain Briggs.

“Not
yet. The direction is likely north south.”

“There’s
no indication the rider is still near your location?”

“Nothing,”
replied Brown. “The cave is due south of me. It may have been someone
confirming what happened there.”

A pause.
“I’ll have a Pave Hawk drop off a squad in case there are raiders present, perhaps
to recover the bodies.”

“Jacob
buried them, using explosives to collapse the entrance even more fully. That
would be difficult to get through. Days of work at the very least.”

“They
may not know this, likely do not. It is possible that some raiders will go
there to see what they can. They might even try some light digging before they
realized how futile that would be. Remain where you are. I will let you know
what we find.”

The
sergeant settled down beside a tree, keeping his binoculars handy. A few
minutes later he glimpsed the Pave Hawk buzzing over the treetops.

*
* *

Well,
well
, he thought.

A single
dirt bike was coming through the woods, heading north. He heard it long before
it came into view, and this gave Sergeant Brown ample time to leave the small
rise and move to intercept. Leaping over a fast rushing brook, he slid on the
loose soil, losing his balance. The soldier managed to regain control before he
was soaked, but one boot ended up in the water. Cursing softly, he pressed
onward.

“Raider,
knew it.” The words were a whisper.

There
was no time to alert Captain Briggs, so Brown lifted his rifle and took aim.
The round struck the man in the chest, knocking him backwards off the bike
which slammed into a tree.

“Don’t
think about moving,” he ordered, rapidly closing the distance.

Not a
sound filled the air. There were no other vehicles in operation and likely no
more of the enemy.

“Name?”

The
raider, a young man in late teens or early twenties, clutched at the wound.
Blood was spurting through his quivering fingers. There was a pistol at his
side, tucked into the waistband of his jeans, and an assault rifle in a leather
sling on the dirt bike. He made no attempt to grab either.

“Who are
you?”

Light
brown eyes turned toward the sergeant. The raider tried to say something. All
that came out was a bubble of crimson. It burst on his lips. There was a final
shake, and he fell still.

“This is
Brown.”

“Status?”
asked the captain.

He
looked around again before replying into the radio. “Single raider on a dirt
bike. He’s down. Minimal firepower and supplies. Looks like he’s been going
hungry, pretty thin. No food on him or in his saddle bags.”

“Do you
know what he was doing?”

“Came
from the direction of the cave. Assuming there are no others, I think he headed
south to that location, took a look, and was returning north. I suggest
focusing the aircraft in that direction. Did the squad find anything?”

“There
are some tracks, very limited, from a motorcycle. There is nothing to suggest
the site was disturbed.”

“A
survivor or scout who heard what happened and wanted to see for himself?”
suggested Brown.

“Could
be. There are some men on foot coming to relieve you. Get to a secure location
and wait for their arrival. Then confirm the area is clear.”

Sergeant
Brown and the Yellowstone militia discovered no other raiders, not even hints
that there might have been more. If this was a lone individual, he was dead
now, the threat gone. As a scout for others, his failure to return might serve
as a deterrent. It would have been beneficial to take him alive for
questioning, but with all they’d done, immediate engagement remained the rule.
It was shoot first and ask questions later, should one survive long enough to
be interrogated.

*
* *

Our
visitor also provided an update as to what was happening around the world. Hurray!
I do love getting news from abroad. I’m going to give a quick rundown as to
what was previously referenced first. The United States of America is under the
control of an elected civilian government and consists of Hawaii, numerous
islands along both coasts, portions of the Caribbean, and a few distant ports.
There are no permanent holdings anywhere on an actual continent. We are talking
islands all the way. The Black Hills and Yellowstone are still considered
autonomous zones. That meant I could continue doing whatever I wanted without
interference.

Russia
and Mongolia remain united with most of the people living in small villages
throughout the Urals and Siberia. It gets very cold in Siberia, not much better
in the Ural Mountains. They had my sympathy. Their government is more
militaristic in nature with many of the commanders included in the upper
leadership. They have civilians in charge as well, however, and nothing
indicates any conflict between the two.

The
United Kingdom and Switzerland are separate political entities, under civilian
control. Even so, they are closely interlinked. The move to Ireland continues
with the American military providing assistance in clearing the island. This
also put the United States in a better position to try to figure out what was
going on over there, a nice secondary benefit. Some Irish survivors were
discovered who apparently do not like the idea of the English relocating, but
they don’t seem to mind the Swiss. While I can understand their feelings due to
the centuries of abuse heaped upon them by the English, there comes a point
when you have to move on and work together. Besides, the English weren’t
invading, weren’t there to enslave them. This was a matter of basic survival.

The
Japanese reside on Okinawa and are maintaining ties with the United States.
Ships travel back and forth from Hawaii on a regular basis moving food and
supplies. Their government is symbolically led by the emperor and officially
run by elected officials, but intelligence reports say the emperor is, in all
reality, commanding the people. While this may not ever become official, he is
firmly in control and supposedly doing a good job.

Finally,
we have Israel. They continue to live in the coastal cities, all of which are
walled off. They also hold Jerusalem’s Old City with many of the newer portions
cleared of the dead. Masada is still there, rebuilt as close to the original
design as possible, though with proper plumbing and electricity. Around the
plateau upon which it sits is a trench with rolls of razor wire on the outside
and a thick concrete wall on the inside. Being in the middle of the desert,
just getting to this ancient fortress is hard. After all the work, it’s about
as secure as it could ever be. Tanks are kept on site, and a runway has been
built within the area protected by the trench. It is their southernmost
military base.

As to
new information, it turns out that China has a functioning government. Who
would have guessed? Contact was made, and some ambassadors exchanged. The thing
is that while the United States and other surviving nations managed to hang on
from the start, albeit in a severely degraded manner, China collapsed. They
lost all semblance of order, and the small bands of survivors common to much of
the world at large were unable to unite or get organized. It took several
years, but finally some businessmen set up a communications network. You would
think it’d be the military, but it was ordinary business guys, primarily
factory owners who specialized in manufacturing.

This
group began pulling all the outlying communities together, bringing them to
isolated, easily defensible locations in the mountains. Then the damn commies
tried to reassert control. You know, calling them commies might not be
accurate. Granted, they called themselves Communists, but they really weren’t,
hadn’t been since Mao died. The nation did suffer from one party rule, no doubt
about that, and there were many socialist programs. Still, the Chinese had been
growing more and more capitalistic, striving to boost the economy and improve
the financial wellbeing of the people. This was done slowly and with plenty of
planning, but the days of a centrally managed economy were long dead.

The
people had been taught to worship the original Communist government, but that
never stuck – remember Tiananmen Square – and preferred it gone. When the old
bureaucrats tried to resume control, what remained of the military was split
evenly on both sides. However, the majority of the common people stood with the
businessmen. There were some fights, a few assassinations, a brief period of open
warfare, and a culmination when China nuked several of its own cities. I have
no idea how that actually came about or if it were even true. I can see the
Chinese lying in order to make it appear no outsider had the means to attack in
this manner, but there’s no way to tell for certain. The men responsible, or assigned
the blame, were rounded up and shot.

As it
stands now, China is operating under an elected council with all political
parties banned. As to this latter point, I fail to see how this will be
enforced. It is really hard to prevent like-minded individuals from setting up
organizations to help spread their viewpoints, but whatever works. They appear
to be stabilizing, and while I don’t know how many are still alive, China
should become a stable nation and will eventually contribute to ridding the
world of the shamblers. On a side note, they no longer have a population
problem, so the one child policy has been officially scrapped.

The
second nation to emerge on the scene following the collapse isn’t nearly as
advanced, cultured, or civilized. By this, I am referring to the favorite of
brain dead progressives everywhere, the so-called religion of peace, Islam. And
for any whiny ultra-left nincompoop who is still breathing and offended, I say
read the fucking Quran (or Koran since they have the weirdest spelling variations
when translated to English). Really, read it and see for yourself that all the
terrorists who quote it when launching their attacks are actually doing what
Allah requires of them. It’s the ones who say let’s live as good neighbors with
non-Muslims who are going counter to their god’s will.

More
specifically, we have the Caliphate. Created by survivors in Pakistan,
Afghanistan, and throughout the Middle East, this new nation is defined by
their religion. The boundaries are the whole world. Yes, they formally declared
dominion over the entire planet and demanded all other nations immediately
surrender and convert.