DEAD: Reclamation: Book 10 of the DEAD series Page 14

  When they had decided to call this new place home, he had made setting up perimeter traps his top priority, even over building their home. Besides acting as a nasty surprise should they have to deal with the living, they could also be used to distract or re-route a herd of zombies.

  Chad had been thrilled to discover an intact propane tank. Unfortunately, he had no way to tap its resources for home use, but it had been a great place to attach a single Claymore. This had been his most elaborate trap. Inside the ruins of the cabin where the propane tank was located, he had nailed a sheet of tin on the floor a few inches off the ground. The twine he cut had allowed a bundle of river rocks to fall on the piece of tin. When the noise prompted whoever or whatever to check it out, he triggered the Claymore.

  He had no idea how big the explosion would be—or if it would even work—but it seemed to have done the trick. He finished off running his sword through the head of each corpse just to be certain. He had just finished the last one when he heard shouts coming from back up the hill.

  ***

  Jody crawled on his belly. Thankfully, clouds had come in overnight and completely blocked any ambient light from the moon. It had the added benefit of keeping it gloomy even as dawn was about to break.

  The turrets were all set up the same. The ground was scorched earth for a good fifty yards all the way around. There was a deep trench in close that served as a moat, mostly for defense against zombies, and a metal fence with razor wire coils on top that circled around on both the inside and outside of the moat.

  Some had said it was overkill, but those who chose to make these turrets their residence certainly appreciated the added layers of security when herds made their appearance. Living beings were also supposed to be easy to defend against. And that was the main reason for the scorched earth idea.

  Reaching the edge of the overgrowth, Jody halted and scanned the area. Whoever these people were that had taken over the turret, they were not even using torches. The place was completely dark. He could still smell the stink of the bonfire that had been used to burn the bodies, but even that had gone to ash and was not even giving off the slightest curl of smoke.

  There was a dark silhouette where the cage still hung suspended. Jody could not tell if there was anybody in it or not. He had to remind himself to take things one step at a time.

  He rose to a crouch and then gave a low hooting noise to signal that he was ready and in position. One by one, he heard others do the same. When he heard the eleventh and final one, he started forward in a crouch-run. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the others moving with him.

  They reached the outer wall that surrounded the moat. George pressed in and produced a set of heavy-duty bolt cutters. Like a hot knife through butter, the man sheared the chain that kept the door shut.

  “Everybody ready?” Pitts whispered.

  Jody glanced over to the left. They were closer now and he thought he could just make out a dark figure in the cage. There was no movement, but he was pretty sure that he could see what had to be a body.

  Person, he reprimanded himself. Danny is fine. Maybe a little worse for the wear, but he will be alive and well.

  They pulled the gate open slowly, every creak of the metal sounding like the roar of a jet engine to their hyper-sensitive hearing that each of them possessed at the moment as adrenaline course through them like currents of electricity.

  That had been just one more feature. While minor, they had ensured that every door open out instead of in. That allowed them to reinforce the jamb just that much more to keep it from being forced in by the press of a swarm of undead.

  As the team slipped in, Jody could feel some of those old familiar senses of his trying to come online. Having been a soldier, he had trained for things just such as this. He had never thought he would be putting these skills to use on American soil.

  Lowering down into the moat would be easy. It was the eleven foot walls that came at a reverse angle that would be the hard part and take a few moments to navigate. However, within just a few ticks, all twelve members of the team were up and on the other side.

  Jody glanced up, but the turret obscured the cage at this point. Jody cursed himself for not taking just a few seconds while he was in that moat to try and get a better look. The murky dawn was upon them. They could actually make out each other’s faces at this point.

  The second gate was handled the same as the first, and then they were at the main door to the turret. This is where things might get dicey. If the massive oak door was locked, they would have to risk trying to use grappling hooks to enter through the windows. That would be noisy and almost assure them of taking casualties if not losing the entire team outright.

  When the door pulled open, Jody let out the breath that he had not been aware that he had been holding. The next inhale was one that brought him welcome relief.

  They entered the main entry chamber. It was a huge open room. This would be where the meals were cooked, served, and eaten. There was a set of wooden stairs that went up to the second tier landing. This was typically the arsenal and storage area. The top floor would be more storage as well as the sleeping chambers. Each turret had four bedrooms and two larders. They were only accessible through trapdoor-style ports.

  George took the lead once they fanned out to ensure the ground floor was empty. Reaching the top of the stairs, he held up his hand with a clenched fist, bringing the entire team to a sudden halt.

  Jody watched the big man draw his knife and then take the last three steps that would put him on the next level. He instantly vanished in the darkness, but a second later, there was a muffled groan and a soft thump.

  George returned to the stairs and waved everybody up. Here is where things would get sketchy.

  The occupants, while obviously somewhat negligent in their security, had at least displayed the presence of mind to pull up the ladder that led to the top floor sleeping area. Other than hoisting somebody up and jimmying open that trapdoor, making a lot of noise in the process, there was nothing they could do other than wait.

  ***

  Entry Twenty-five—Oasis reminds me of Mos Eisley from Star Wars. It is a crazy place. More than one of the scars I sport came from here. It is not uncommon to see a fight in the streets. In fact, the people here step around them like you might do with a mud puddle.

  When the caravan pulled in, I was not surprised that nothing was said about the “cargo” in the last wagon. People actually can sell themselves in Oasis. Seriously.

  If you have never been, let me just say that you would do well to stay away from the gambling halls. Unlike the old days in places like Las Vegas where people were known to go into pawn shops and hand over wedding rings and other things in order to return to the tables to “just break even” or any of the other self-deceptive excuses they would use, the currency in Oasis has been known to include one’s person.

  Darwin Goodkind’s gang is obviously in to resupply and search for anything “exotic” that they can bring out to the settlements that can be found. Most of the smaller communes that exist these days are typically self-sufficient. They trade with each other for some things. And when trading caravans like this one roll through, they can grab that odd or difficult-to-find item.

  Traders are part of the landscape today. Like the snake oil salesmen of old, most of them are seedy and out to dupe the unsuspecting rubes they encounter along the way. They would actually embarrass the used car salesmen of old with not only their tactics, but in the way they strip people of anything valuable for something that seldom lives up to the promises made.

  That is also why these traders have such short life expectancies. These days, folks ain’t shy about chasing down a bad trader and having a good old-fashioned lynching. One town had a zombie in a cage hanging right above the entry gates. The zombie was under a sign that read: The last trader to deal dirty with our town!

  Anyway, I have come up with a plan. Now to see if it will work.

 
Entry Twenty-six—Perfect.

  That is really the best way to describe how things went off for me today. And now there are seven.

  I only wish that the caravan was staying a little longer. I would have them handled in a matter of a few days even with the fact that they would probably become suspicious and maybe even a bit concerned.

  What I do know from the one that I was actually able to question before I slit his throat is that Darwin Goodkind is really the guy’s name (as far as they know) and that he hires on people through a third party that gives referrals. (That might be my next job once I deal with this piece of trash—find the person who runs a referral service for human trafficking.)

  They do ride the normal trade routes, but they do not travel on a schedule. That supposedly prevents them from being tracked and taken down or robbed of their “goods.” There is always a compliment of four mercs on the team. These guys are nothing but muscle and don’t take part in the actual acquisition or trade, but they are granted liberties with any of the “cargo” they choose in addition to being well paid.

  I guess Darwin will be looking to hire a new pair of mercs before he leaves Oasis, but that should not be a problem. This place is crawling with mercs, bounty hunters, and traders packing some of the most expensive and hard-to-find goods. I think a better name for this town would be either Sodom or Gomorrah. It is a den of iniquity beyond compare.

  I really want to save Darwin for last, but I also know now that I will take him down if the opportunity arises. Sure, somebody else will just pour into that crack and fill it when he is wiped out, but that is why I will never be out of work.

  Entry Twenty-seven—Back out into the wilds.

  I was not surprised that the caravan had two new mercs by the end of the same day that their other two no-showed after what was supposed to be just a night out on the town to unwind. This guy runs his show tight.

  I am now almost certain that I will never be able to take this bastard down out here. It will have to be when he rolls into a town or commune.

  The weather is turning bad, so maybe I will get a chance in the next night or two. Heavy rain started falling early this afternoon. I am under a massive rock overhang just on the other side of a hill from the place where the wagons have stopped for the night. No perimeter barrels tonight; the rain is just coming down too hard. Not even a campfire.

  I actually considered making an attempt tonight. I managed to creep within about a hundred feet of the camp when I got my first nasty surprise.

  Crybaby zombies.

  I would have to guess, but I think they had at least ten chained up at seemingly random intervals around the tightly clustered camp. Bastards almost seem to be able to see in the dark. A lot of people say that zombies are drawn to heat and sound. Some say that a zombie does not so much see in the dark as they sense your heat signature. I know it is just a bunch of guessing, but I do know I never even actually saw the crybaby that sounded the alarm when I got close. I also know that men popped out of those wagons in a big hurry and searched for at least an hour until they gave up.

  Entry Twenty-eight—Well, at least now I know. They keep the crybabies strapped to the underside of the wagons. I guess that is as good of a place as any. It’s not like they have to worry about dinging or damaging the meat sacks.

  Seriously, that bothered me all night. I could not figure out where they had been keeping the crybabies. But it also shows me that this Darwin Goodkind has been at this for a while. He has contingencies that I would never have thought of when it comes to security.

  I will need to be careful.

  9

  A Place A Geek Would Call Home

  “Who sent you?” Kevin asked, his eyes locked on Darlene’s. “You get one chance to answer, and then I am going to cut you just enough.”

  He did not need to explain the rest. Anybody alive today knew full well that the blood of a living infected person was just as capable of transmitting the zombie condition as a bite. Perhaps that was the reason behind these people’s hatred for those who showed immunity.

  However, that sword cut both ways, as was obviously the case with the people of Rock Ridge. If the rumors were true, they were about to embark on the modern day version of biological terrorism. They were going to contaminate the food or water supply of the other two settlements, and then gather all those who survived and try to create some sort of all-immune society. In that way, they were no better than these people that had come to exterminate those who did not turn.

  All of this was simply the surface of the issue as far as Kevin was concerned. He wanted to know who was spreading the rumors; and who had found these extremists and notified them of the folks at Rock Ridge. This could all be a propaganda war. People had stopped being afraid of the zombies. Nowadays, it was actually more common to be afraid of the living.

  If there was ever going to be any chance for humanity to survive, then they would have to start coming together. It really was that simple.

  Darlene’s lip trembled and she looked up at Kevin, her eyes glistening with tears. “We were sent by our commander…our leader.”

  “Okay, and where did you come from? Where is your camp.”

  Darlene’s eyes hardened. “Go ahead…kill me. I ain’t lettin’ you folks go and wipe out my friends. So if you’re gonna do this, then let’s just get it done.”

  Kevin was at a loss. He had no idea what could have turned her so quickly. He felt her slipping away and needed to try and pull her back. “I don’t want to kill anybody. In fact, here is a deal for you to consider.”

  He took a deep breath, not sure if this was the right way to go about things, but for some reason, somewhere along the way, he had decided that he wanted to call this place home. He and Catie could start their life here. If that was going to happen, he needed to pave a safe road for them. He knew there was no such thing as perfect these days; hell, there was no such thing before the zombies.

  But if he was going to call this home, then he needed to eliminate what he considered to be the biggest threat. The plan was still forming in his head, and he knew that those sorts of on-the-fly things often went haywire, but he had to act if he was going to stay here and try to start a family.

  “You and I will go to your people alone. Let me talk to them under a banner of peace.” He knew that it was a half-cocked idea, but he was confident in his ability to reason with whoever these people might be.

  “Your friends will just follow, and then they will poison us or do something else that turns everybody who ain’t like you freaks into one of them dang zombies.” Darlene shook her head.

  Just then, the door flew open. “Kevin Dreon, you will do no such thing!” Catie was dragging Clint and another man behind her.

  Clint made the mistake of getting behind Catie and trying to wrap his arms around her waist. She threw an elbow that caught the man in the face. A crunch and yelp of pain sounded and Clint fell back holding his hands to his nose as blood trickled through his fingers.

  “Catie, calm down,” Kevin said, turning and grabbing her by the shoulders.

  “You aren’t just going to hand yourself over to some group of whackos that are bent on killing anybody who is immune. Have you learned nothing over the years or from your stupid books and movies?” Catie was sobbing now, and her voice was strangled as she tried to make her point. “Religious fanatics are not ever going to listen to you as you attempt to reason with them. Their brains are fried.”

  “Let me ask you something,” Kevin said, his voice calm and relaxed in stark contrast to Catie’s. “You felt it the moment that we got here, didn’t you? This is the place for us. This is where we can make our home and start our life.”

  “We can find someplace else,” Catie insisted.

  “And what will we find? Worse? This is it. You know it and you feel it. I need you to trust me.”

  “I trust you with my life, you idiot.” Catie scrubbed at her face and then glared. “It is everybody else in the world that I d
on’t trust any farther than I can throw.”

  “But if I can do this…” Kevin felt the wind leaving his sails. He could not explain why he was so suddenly enamored with this place. The truth was, he just felt it inside where it counted.

  “Then I go with you.” Catie folded her arms across her body and fixed Kevin with a stare that made it clear there would be no bargaining, discussion, or debate.

  Kevin turned back to Darlene. “Take us to your people. Let me talk to them. I give you my word that I will release you to them no matter what. I simply want to speak to whoever is in charge. There must be a way that we can all coexist.”

  “I have to speak up,” Clint bristled, barging farther into the already crowded room. “I really appreciate what you are trying to do—”

  “If we do this, it is best for everybody.” Kevin did not want to get into a long discussion; mostly because he had no idea why he felt so strongly about this place. For whatever reason, this was home.

  “Y’all are crazy,” Darlene said in a voice just loud enough to be heard.

  “Maybe so, but there comes a time when a person has to choose to draw a line. I went through this once before. I won’t do it again,” Kevin insisted.

  “But what is to stop another group and then another and another?” Cap had walked into the small room now, making it even more crowded and uncomfortable. “Wouldn’t it be less dangerous to just find someplace safe…make a new home?”

  “Until they find you again?” Catie scoffed.

  Kevin turned to Darlene. “I only ask that you at least give me an idea of what I am walking into. How many of you are there?”

  The woman chewed her bottom lip in thought for a moment. Eventually she looked up at Kevin. “Five…maybe six hundred.”

  An audible gasp escaped somebody, but Kevin remained calm. He turned to everybody and asked them to please leave once again. Catie crossed her arms and made a point of leaning against the wall. She returned his questioning look with a gesture of locking her lips, the rest filed out reluctantly. After the room was empty except for him, Catie, and Darlene, he sat back down.