White Flag of the Dead (25 page)

We went back to my room and as I fed Jake his dinner, I outlined my plan. Nate asked a lot of questions, and we talked long into the night, poring over maps by candlelight and making adjustments. Tomorrow was going to be a long one, but it was the first step in taking back what we lost.

18

The next day, I called the community together in the commons. Since I had only done this a few times before to discuss rules and such, people tended to take these things seriously. Everyone showed up on time, except for Frank and Kevin. They strolled in five minutes late and huddled together in the back. Charlie James wandered over to where they were and casually sat down next to them. Frank looked at Charlie like he was a bug, and Kevin was talking animatedly and gesturing with his hands, his fingers sticking out at weird angles. It was so distracting that Nate had to bump me to get me started.

“Good morning. I’m grateful all of you came down to the meeting. First of all, I want to bring you up to speed on our newest members. Kevin Pierce, sitting there next to Frank Stearns, and his son Phillip, joined us yesterday. Sarah, Frank, and myself rescued Kevin and Phillip from the interstate. His wife did not make it.” There were murmured condolences, and that bastard Kevin actually had the nerve to look sad. I considered spoiling the moment for him with the truth, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything. The man’s true nature was easily seen, and I doubted anyone would be fooled. Besides, Sarah and Nate had already spread the word about Kevin, so it was done.

“Second of all, we need to talk about winter. We are relatively sheltered here, but heating a place this size is going to be difficult. Food we have no worries about, thanks to our raid on the Big Circle,” There were a few cheers at this. “But we need to think about leaving the school behind.”

There was a stunned silence as people took in what I had told them. Then the questions began to flow and Nate raised his hands for silence.

“I understand you are reluctant to leave, considering what we went through to get to this place and what we go through to keep it. But in reality, what did we win? We bought ourselves a little time, that’s all. We bought ourselves a little security. We can sleep somewhat easily at night, but we always have to be on guard, always have to be ready for the next attack. Ask yourself this question. Do you want to grow old here? Do you want your children to grow up here? We don’t know how long the zombies will last, be it a year, two years, ten years? All the time stalking us and waiting to devour us. We’ve regrouped, yes. But we need to move out, reclaim the world that was ours, and tell the zombies we will not just lay down to be their dinner. We need to strike out and start taking it back. I have a feeling there are a lot of survivors out there, and they will not make the winter without help.

“Nate and I have been planning, and we think we have come up with a viable plan. First of all, we will move out of this building and into another facility. One that is more secure and allows us to move about freely outside.” That struck home. Many people hadn’t been outside in months, and they often talked about their yards, their gardens, whatever.

“We don’t think it is possible yet for everyone to go back to their homes. If you did, you’d face the survival problem on your own. We think staying together as a community will ensure our success and survival.” There were several nods at this.

“Secondly, we need to establish secondary posts, manned by essential personnel and self-sufficient. I have figured out one perfect location for such a post, and it is there I will be heading in the near future. We figure to have five or six of these posts set up next spring, and from there we will begin the final part of our plan, which is to begin clearing the area of zombies, securing it completely, and establishing ourselves in a permanent home to rebuild what was lost.

“It’s going to take a lot of work, but right now time is of the essence. It’s October now, and we all know what winters are like in the Midwest. I figure we have two months before the really nasty stuff comes after us. If we are really lucky, the zombies will freeze in the winter and allow us to establish our posts unmolested; however, nothing in our short history tells me we have much in the way of luck.

“I’m not asking you to believe in the plan. I’m not asking you to believe in me. What I am asking is this – In forty years when you look back on your life and the Upheaval, don’t you want to be able to say to your children “I stood and fought. Not I ran and hid.”

I didn’t know what I expected. I half expected to have a lot of shouted questions and epithets. I half expected to be threatened. What I did not expect was to have one person, Jim Bigelow, our oldest community member, stand up and address me personally.

“John, you’ve constantly put this community first, and many people have wondered why. You never asked for anything in return and you have fought for us at every turn. Some people here owe you more than they could ever hope to repay. You’ve never made a move you didn’t think through first. If you tell me we need to move, then I’m with you. Where are we going?” He sat down and people started to clap. I have to admit I was touched. I never realized that people noticed what I did. I thought I was being selfish, doing what I thought was best for my son and his future. I guess everyone got caught up in that as well. That’s okay, they can come with.

When the clapping died down, Nate stepped up and addressed the assembly. He had a map of Illinois tacked to a piece of cardboard, and there were areas outlined in red, blue and green.

“The red areas here, those are the ones John and I consider too hot to attempt any penetration. We just don’t have the manpower or resources. Maybe later, but for right now, it’s out of the equation. It is not, however, out of the realm of containment, and we can use natural terrain to our advantage. We will begin by sectioning off one area at a time, eradicating every zombie in the area, and moving on to the next area. We expect to increase our ranks as we find survivors. The blue areas are considered to be areas of little zombie activity, and the green areas are what we consider to be relatively safe zones. These are the rural areas and outlying towns and farms, and we think in all likelihood there are entire towns which have been spared the devastation. The end goal is self sufficiency, and we have the resources at our disposal to rebuild better than we had before. We just have to go and get them, and establish ourselves at points where we can support each other and combat the threat.

“I’m not going to lie to you. Not everyone will welcome our efforts with open arms. There are likely groups that are existing to take advantage of the situation and establish themselves as warlords or kings of certain territory. They will show no mercy and shoot first, without asking questions. We will deal with them when the time comes.

Nate paused to gather his thoughts. “We are going to head to the condos at the corner of the road. They are ideally situated, and provide a good measure of security. There is water there, and people can actually have their own condominium, not just a room in a school. They have no ground floor, and you won’t have to worry about getting your ass chewed by a ghoul every day.” People brightened at the thought of resuming some sort of normalcy. “We will still have school and training, we will just be in a different area. We will begin cleanup tomorrow. We want to be completely moved in two weeks. Any questions?”

The room was quiet, then Frank raised his hand. Before Nate could explode, I said “Yes, Frank?”

All eyes turned to Frank and I could see him reveling in the attention. “What if we don’t want to leave?” He asked smugly, as if this was a revelation I missed.

I decided to burst his bubble. I addressed the group. “Does anyone wish to stay in the school?” No one raised their hand. I could not blame them. We had fought for this place, but it was time to move on and get busy living.

Frank looked defeated. I had no pity for him, or his new friend. “If you want to stay, you’ll get two weeks of provisions, one firearm, one blunt weapon, and a hearty ‘Good Luck!’” A huge part of me wished he’d stay, but I knew Frank would never be self-reliant. He preferred to live off the work of others. Hence his political career.

“Okay people. Let’s get to work!”

19

The next five days were busy. We spent a lot of time casing the condos, and we had to be on the lookout for roaming bands of zombies as well. There seemed to be an increase in the number of zombies out for a stroll, and I wondered if the ones from the city were finally making it out to the ‘burbs. We got lucky with the first building, as it was relatively empty, just stinky from rotting food. We did find a dead old woman in one of the bedrooms, but it looked like she died of dehydration instead of the virus. We moved five families into the condos, and set them up with provisions. Nate took on the task of securing the water supply, and after an interesting moment with a ghoul in the high grass, declared the water secure.

Charlie and Sarah were clearing out the second and third buildings, and it was rather entertaining to hear “Heads up!” as another zombie came flying out of a window to smack noisily on the ground below. We figured it was easier to toss them out the windows than drag them down the stairs and make a huge mess. It was tricky, killing them without serious fluid loss, but Charlie and Sarah were pros. Their backup teams were pretty good, too. Funny what it takes sometimes to have a successful career change.

The weather was getting colder, and I really didn’t notice any difference in zombie movements. They were still trudging along, and there were the occasional faster ones, but nothing out of the ordinary. When you live in a zombie-filled world, that is.

I was taking the RC (Recon Car) down the interstate, checking on passageways and clearance for vehicles. Martin Oso was with me, but we didn’t talk much. I needed to be able to move a semi truck, so clearance was a priority. Strangely, the freeway was mostly clear, and I was able to make extremely good time. I headed past New Lawrence and towards Joslin. There were more cars on the roadside, and I saw more than one which was occupied by ghouls. They looked to be in pretty sorry shape, having turned near the beginning of the Upheaval and been stuck ever since. One was barely able to lift its head to watch my car go by. Poor Stinky.

I crossed the river and from my vantage point on the bridge, I could see quite a few zombies wandering the streets of Joslin. They were kept in check by the river, but I was sure they had fanned out to the surrounding countryside. Martin stiffened a bit at the sight of so many zombies, but we were safe on the bridge.

We rolled past Casino Street, and I was sorely tempted to go take a look, but I had a feeling that place was wiped out by people having one last fling before the end. I spotted my exit and took it, keeping an eye out for the usual problems. Martin was curious as to our destination, since I had kept it from him the whole trip. I pulled up to a high gate, and stopped the car. The whole area was surrounded by a high man made hill, too steep for zombies to navigate and perfect for keeping safe what I considered precious cargo inside. There was a guard shack next to the gate, and a sign that said “NO ENGINE BRAKING” Moving out of the car, I approached the guard shack as Martin scanned the street we had turned off of. No zombies yet, but you could almost feel them coming out of hiding and shuffling in your direction.

The guard shack was empty and I approached the gate. There was a lock and chain on the gate, and I figured the key was long gone. I pulled out my crowbar and with a few yanks, broke the lock. I threaded the chain through the gate and it made a huge clanking noise. Martin jumped at the sound and there were several answering groans from the area. We had to move fast. I just hoped that I wasn’t jumping into a yard full of zombies.

I pushed the gate open and Martin hopped back into the car. He drove into the yard and I closed the gate behind the car. I put the chain back and secured it with a karabiner. Easy on, easy off. Just as I secured the gate it pushed violently back at me. I stepped back and looked through the slits. Sure enough, there were five ghouls that wanted to party.
Not yet, boys, but I’ll get to you later
, I thought. How, I had no idea, but something would come to me.

Martin got out of the car and looked around. We were in a storage facility for cargo containers, the kind you see stacked by the thousands by docks and rail yards. They were stacked up six high, about as tall as a five story building. There was a container fork truck over on the side, and we were looking at about a thousand containers, and I could see more down the hill. Perfect. All I needed now was a way to move them. There was a small parking lot of trailers to put the containers on, and an old truck ready to roll. Better and better. It would have been great if I had a clue how to drive the fork truck to move the trailers, and even better if I knew how to drive the truck to get them to where they were needed, but I didn’t. I think Charlie knew how to drive one, maybe Tommy, but I wasn’t sure.

Martin looked around and wondered why I was so happy. “What was the point of coming here? There’s just a bunch of old containers.”

I enlightened him. “How tall are the containers?” I asked him.

Martin looked closely. “About eight feet or so”

“Think a Z can climb one of them?” I asked cryptically.

Martin looked again. “Not really. Maybe one in a thousand might manage it.”

“Could you walk on it, patrol on it?” I asked, looking at one nearby.

Martin finally got it. “A fence! Perfect! And if they tip it over, it still blocks them! Are we taking them back to the condos?” He seemed eager to get started.

“That we are, Martin, old son, that we are. But first, we need to figure out how to operate the fork truck. I have no illusions about the two of us able to lift one of those things.” I said, pointing to the machine. “That’s your job.”

Martin grinned and hopped over to the cab of the fork truck. As he opened the door, a zombie fell out and landed on top of him. He shrieked and pushed the Z in the chest, narrowly avoiding snapping jaws. The Z was dressed in overalls and hardhat, and likely turned in the machine. It was pretty well decayed, and its skin slipped and tore off as it struggled to get closer to Martin and he struggled to keep it away from him. They danced back towards me, and I nearly drew my knife when I spotted the towing chain on the ground. I grabbed it up and looping around my hand, I swung it with everything I had at the zombie’s head. He must have been more decayed than I thought, because his head came right off his body and sailed off into the weeds by the office trailer. The headless body dropped immediately, and Martin was nearly taken off balance since the thing still gripped his jacket.