Dead: Siege & Survival Read online

  As soon as he saw the stone wall, he climbed up and over. He had to weave through some trees, but eventually he found himself on a long, narrow fairway. Using what he remembered about the place, he made his way to where the club house should be.

  He moved cautiously, knowing that he would be no match for any real soldier…especially in his current condition. The one thing that kept him moving was the idea of what he had resigned the Bergman women to by waiting to act. He had wanted to formulate the perfect plan. He now realized that there was no such thing. All he could do is move, act, and improvise.

  When he finally saw the camp, he felt his heart sink just a bit. There were at least three dozen tents along with a huge central tent. He guessed that to either be the headquarters or the mess tent. Whatever the case, it was too much. Anything he did would be futile and end in failure and probably death. Worse still, if he hadn’t condemned them to death already by torching that building, it was very possible that he would do so now.

  Willa had made several statements to that effect. He had chosen to ignore her. He hadn’t wanted to hear just how hopeless it was. Just once, his mind screamed, why can’t it be like in the movies? In the movies, the “good guy” eventually triumphed over bad. He knew that because it was always the part he and his friends complained about when the movie was over. There was always some convenient miracle that signaled the doom of the bad guys. Couple that with how the good guys never missed and the bad guys couldn’t hit a stationary target ten feet away with an M-16 and you had the typical Hollywood scenario.

  He’d already lost his friends. He’d lost the Bergmans only to get two of the four back…and then lose them again. He’d had a chance at redemption with Valarie. His run to get her medication had been full of miracles. At least that had been the case until Dr. Peter King got bit.

  And then there was Aleah. Of course Hollywood casting would have utilized one of those “nerd chic” types. A change in his eyeglasses and a new hairstyle would transform him like a geeky Cinderfella. That would make somebody as gorgeous as Aleah the princess who kissed the toad and helped him transform into a prince.

  “Fuck,” Kevin hissed.

  He didn’t know how long he stood there, but the longer he did, the more he felt his resolve start to fade. It was now or never. Kevin unslung his knapsack and dug through it. The medication was there just as it had been the other four or five times he had checked. He slung it over his shoulder and stepped out of the trees. Lacing his fingers behind his head, Kevin began the walk across the open ground of where the putting green would be if you could see it and towards the shadowy form that he was pretty certain had to be a sentry.

  8

  Vignettes XXVII

  Ahi stared in disbelief. He looked back and forth between the obviously pleased Aaheru and the bus that was now little more than twisted metal, smoke, and flames. All of the women, the Mothers of Egypt as the seemingly mad pharaoh called them, were on that bus. Physically, it was of no consequence to Ahi. He preferred the company of men and had a secret lover among the boys who had been recruited from the City of the Dead.

  “Did you think I was that big of a fool, my brother?” Aaheru laughed loud as if he’d just heard the most humorous joke.

  “B-b-but the women—” Ahi stammered.

  “Are in the armored car directly behind me,” Aaheru said, clucking his tongue. “I would not be fooled by somebody as greedy or power hungry as Markata.”

  “But I saw the women board—”

  “Did you see their faces?” Aaheru asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “You saw several figures board the bus wearing the traditional burqa. Allah will forgive the transgression, but those were young men that I hand-picked for their willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice when needed. They were needed today.”

  Ahi thought it over. On one hand, he could see the need to send a clear message to any future potential rebels…but to sacrifice twenty-three men to kill one? It didn’t make any sense to him.

  “They served you well, my Pharaoh. I hope they find glory and honor before God.”

  Aaheru returned his attention forward. The waterfront district was just through an arch. They had arrived with minimal casualties. He glanced in the mirror at Ahi. The man was far too grim after such a victory. Of all people, he would have thought that the man would delight in seeing the demise of the only person who sought to unseat him as the pharaoh’s advisor. Perhaps he had gauged this man incorrectly.

  The caravan came top a stop. Aaheru looked and was annoyed to discover that they were still a few hundred yards away from the actual docks. One of the men from a vehicle out front came sprinting back. The fearful looks that he continued to cast over his shoulder gave Aaheru a clue as to the most likely problem.

  “Two climbed in the first car,” the man panted. “The windshield finally gave way after hitting several of the cursed things. There are over a hundred between us and the ships.”

  This was not good. Aaheru would be sure to deal with the men tasked to keep the ships secure and waiting for his arrival. This was no way for the new era to begin.

  Opening the door with enough force to send the man outside it sprawling, Aaheru stepped out of the vehicle. He did not look back, but rather strode forward with purpose. He should not need to look or give an order; his people should instantly react and move to ensure the safety of their pharaoh.

  “Perhaps you should return to your vehicle, my Pharaoh,” Ahi said as he stepped up and matched stride with the larger man.

  One of the undead stepped out from between two idling vehicles of the caravan. Aaheru drew his curved scimitar and swung with a ferocious backhand. The blade dug deep but did not completely pass through the top third of the skull. With a slight turn, Aaheru brought up a booted foot and kicked the now truly dead creature away. Several more of the abominations were headed their direction.

  Looking in all directions, Aaheru felt a brief flutter of the closest thing to fear he’d experienced in years. They were so close, and in such great numbers, that it took him a few seconds to realize somebody behind him was screaming.

  The armored truck directly behind his vehicle was already surrounded. The man he had assigned to ride on top had apparently tried to stop one and lost his footing. He was on the ground with at least twenty of those things fighting for a piece; that was all Aaheru needed to see.

  “Sons of Egypt!” he bellowed. “Gather on me and let us send these restless dead to their eternal slumber!”

  From every nearby vehicle, the men who had not already come out with their leader poured forth. It was almost a contest as to who could respond quickest. Nobody wanted to be the last man to answer the call for fear of displeasing his pharaoh.

  “You,” Aaheru pointed to a small cluster of middle-aged men, “cover our rear. Kill anything that moves.”

  As one, they turned and rushed to meet the oncoming threat. He sent the remaining men forward with instructions to clear the path ahead. Once they were engaged, he turned to Ahi—who he had restrained from joining in on the attack.

  “Gather the women and follow me,” Aaheru whispered.

  Ahi glanced over his shoulder at the men who had charged the mob at their heels. Already, several of the beasts were coming out from between the vehicles, effectively cutting them off from the group.

  Once the women had been herded off the truck, they began the jog to the waiting vessel. On the brow of the closest, a few men stood idle. Aaheru moved to the front as his small entourage reached safety. Without a word, he grabbed the closest man by the shirt and, in one fluid motion, heaved him back at the dozen or so undead that had continued to pursue.

  As the screams began, he stepped up to the man responsible for the detail. “Pray that you never fail me again,” he hissed.

  “How have I failed—” A backhand across his face cut off the question.

  “You waited safely on board and did not think to clear the pier for our arrival? Are you a child who needs to be
told every single detail? I had to sacrifice several of your brothers to reach this ship because you did not think to secure our way. Now begin untying us and get us out to sea.”

  Less than fifteen minutes later, they were navigating the harbor. The hulls of several partially sunken ships jutted up in a nautical representation of a graveyard. After a head count was taken, Aaheru went on a tirade, scolding the security teams and the men who had secured the ships. Once he retired to his quarters, he smiled. They had lost less than half of their numbers. Over three hundred souls remained. Things had actually gone better than he’d hoped.

  ***

  “…and that was it…Thad and his group didn’t make it,” Juan said as he stood in the wash basin and continued to soap his body up and down.

  “I don’t think we should risk any more runs to the mainland until spring.” Mackenzie set the bucket of warm water down and then hopped up onto the counter.

  “Weather ain’t gonna matter.” Juan picked up the bucket and began to ladle the warm water over his body. He looked down in the tub and was disgusted by the putrid brown color. He wondered how many people’s blood was mixing together at his feet. “I think we should stay away from any sort of city. The best bet is to make a run out to the sticks.”

  “You mean travel farther away?” Mackenzie was almost yelling.

  “We got it pretty good,” Juan admitted. “But finding those kids…” His voice trailed away and Juan felt something strange tighten in his chest.

  “They are settling in,” Mackenzie said with a smile. “April is getting them assigned places to live. Most of them want to stay in the same house, which is fine. We still have about fifteen or twenty that are empty, so we are really doing well in that respect.”

  At the mention of April’s name, Juan tensed up. There was a long silence before he finally spoke. “She tell you what happened?”

  Mackenzie hopped off the counter and came over to the wash basin. She opened the curtain and saw that same haunted look on his face that he’d had after JoJo. “She told me.”

  “And?” that single word held a ton of weight, and all of it was sitting squarely on Juan’s shoulders.

  “You did what needed doing.”

  “But—” he tried to protest, but she placed a finger on his lips. “April is fine. She realizes what had to be done as well. In fact, she feels awful for giving you such a hard time over it.”

  Juan finished washing up and slipped into some clean, dry clothes. He had just sat down with Mackenzie when the knock came at the door. It was dark. It was never a good sign when somebody knocked on the door after dark. He flashed an apologetic look to Mackenzie, who simply smiled and nodded for him to go answer it.

  “This better be—” the words died on his lips. Frank was standing in the door with a dog in his arms. It looked dead. There was a slow expansion and contraction that indicated breathing. “Is that the dog you were chasing?”

  “Gidget,” Frank said through the tears in his eyes. “I don’t know how, but the stupid dog followed us.”

  “Besides the long swim, what the heck happened to her?”

  “Well, remember how we told you she got attacked by one of those…things. Well…as crazy as it seems, I think she got hit again.”

  “Bring her in.” Mackenzie had stepped up beside Juan and already had rubber gloves on. She pulled the blanket away and hissed between her teeth at the bite mark. A good chunk had been taken from the left front shoulder.

  “There’s more,” Frank whispered. “A few of the guys took one of the boats and left about twenty minutes ago.”

  “This isn’t my problem,” Juan said. “I won’t make anybody stay here against their will.”

  “They went looking for Donna.”

  “Still not my—”

  “Juan Hoya!” Mackenzie snapped with enough venom and volume to cause the dog to raise its head.

  “What?” Juan spun around with an expression that was part confused, part annoyed. “Didn’t you just say something a little bit ago about no more supply runs to the mainland? You want me to go chase after ghosts now?”

  “They’re children,” Mackenzie insisted.

  “They were doing okay until they met us. They just lost one person. And now they want to go over and search for someone who is chasing somebody who comes to her in her dreams? We’ve lost how many in the past few weeks? It is the way things are now.”

  “No,” Mackenzie whispered. “It is the way things will become if we do nothing.”

  “So what do you expect me to do?” Juan asked.

  “I want you to help—” The dog made a whimpering sound and Mackenzie turned just as its eyes closed and it gave a single convulsive shiver.

  “Mackenzie,” Juan said as calmly as he could. “Step away from the dog.”

  She looked at Juan in confusion for a moment before the realization settled in. The problem she had was that she just hadn’t seen what Juan had out on his supply runs. Her mind didn’t immediately register the fact that dogs turned just like people. And even if somebody showed immunity, when they succumbed to death, the virus was able to complete its task.

  Everything seemed to shift into slow motion at that moment. Juan saw past Mackenzie to the dog lying on the table. He saw its eyes open and shift to the nearest target available. He was vaguely aware of Frank saying something.

  On instinct, his hand went to his belt…but who wears a weapon at the dinner table? There was nothing. All of his gear was either in the bedroom or hanging up on the wall on the other side of the room. As the dog’s head rose and its mouth opened wide, all he could think was, Why didn’t I keep something by the door?

  ***

  Smoke curled skyward. From his position on top of the Yosemite Hotel, he could see perfectly all the carnage of the last few days. Michael Clark had been true to his word. The fight was indeed over. The bodies strewn about the snow, surrounded in halos of blood, were testament to the finality.

  A solitary figure emerged from a clump of trees. Chad had to shade his eyes to be sure before he called out.

  “Hey, Mike!” Chad called.

  The man looked up. Even from this distance the scowl was visibly apparent. “It’s Michael,” the man hollered in response.

  “Sorry.” Chad was anything but, despite the fact that the man had been the key figure in ending the little war between the factions, he was not happy about the method. Also, he was not totally convinced that it had needed to be so final. There had been absolutely no attempt to negotiate a peace settlement.

  “So…Michael…Brett says that you guys found the handful that tried to run.”

  “Yep.”

  “I also notice you aren’t escorting any prisoners.”

  “None to be escorted.”

  “They all fall off of cliffs?”

  That was a bit of a dig. After the initial explosion, a few of the residents had run for it; hightailing it to the woods. Michael had gone after them with a few hand-picked individuals. When he’d returned without any prisoners as Chad thought he would, he and Scott had asked what happened to the people.

  “They fell off a cliff,” was Michael’s response.

  “Hey, Chad?” Michael called up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Kiss my ass.”

  “I take it he didn’t come back with any prisoners?” Scott said over Chad’s shoulder.

  “Nope,” Chad replied. “And the funny thing is, I didn’t know he went out again. I thought you and Brett were making this trip.”

  “I was all set to leave and he came by and told me that there was something more pressing that he didn’t think anybody would want him taking part in.” Scott turned his back on the ledge and leaned against the waist-high brick wall.

  “Sounds ominous.” Chad leaned his rifle against the wall and gave Scott his full attention. The newest decision was that the precious ammo and the guns would stay in camp. Any patrols would take bow and arrow or one of the dozen or so crossbows. Firearms w
ere just too precious to risk in the field.

  “Actually…” Scott paused and Chad suddenly had a feeling that he did not want to hear what was about to be said. “It’s about the food.”

  “Jesus,” Chad sighed. “When isn’t it? The last few meals have been crap and everybody is griping. They should be thankful they picked this team after what was discovered.”

  The rigged explosions that were set off in their enemies’ stronghold had caused a pretty good fire. But it had burned out and left part of the building intact. Late yesterday afternoon, Chad and a few others went in to look around. Partially because they wanted to see if there might be anything worth salvaging. But also because Chad wanted to make sure that any survivors found would be taken in and offered a chance to step across the line. Of course there would be a probationary period and all, but it was a better alternative than just murdering them.

  They had not found a single living survivor. What they had found was a horrific scene of butchery. With food obviously in short supply, at least some of the people had decided that cannibalism was an acceptable alternative to starvation. That one room smelled like a slaughter house with a repulsive mix of blood and shit and meat.

  “I did an inventory and sat down with a few people who knew what they were talking about and our situation of food is…grim is the nicest way I can put it,” Scott explained.

  “Okay,” Chad nodded, “what are we looking at?”

  “A month tops if we ration carefully.”

  “So we have plenty of time to stock up. I don’t see the problem,” Chad said with a shrug. “We will send out foraging teams right now.”

  “And go where?” Scott asked.

  “There should be plenty to hunt, and we can hit some of the small towns and communities.”

  “The zombies have scared away a lot of the wildlife, and besides, most of the herds are not this far up. They are hugging the line down where they can still graze.”