DEAD (Book 12): End (33 page)
That is perhaps my biggest challenge with these kids now in my care. If they just go out and take jobs for the pay and care nothing about the actual reason, then they are not really any better than before.
Of course, the first thing I have to do is de-program their racism. That is going to be a tough task. However, Kenneth Mead committed one huge error in his indoctrination techniques; he used the bible. I can say that, while I ceased being religious in any nature once the dead rose and started eating the living, I was very familiar with the good book. I’ve read it cover to cover a few times. I know where to look and beat the late leader of the New Aryans at his own game.
I started them with the verse that will be my foundation for them. It is a humble passage in Galatians, chapter three, verse twenty-eight. It reads simply, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”
I know it is a bit corny, but I think the best way to fight the fires burning in these kids is to use a brand of heat to which they are accustomed. By my reckoning, the oldest of the bunch is sixteen. I am hoping that their minds are not too hardened.
Entry Thirty-Four—
The young lady known as “Glick” can sure throw a punch. Currently, I do keep them all restrained to some degree. Also, we are out at my cabin. I did not like the idea of staying at their compound. Sure, it was superior in every way as far as living quarters are concerned, but I think it is best to get them out of familiar territory and keep them a bit off balance while I try to re-orient their minds onto something more constructive.
I have chosen to take them out for one-on-one time to try and gain their trust. I was thinking that one of the girls would be a better choice since I am still a little banged up from the fight that I had to endure to take each of these kids down in the first place.
Anyways, I chose the one calling herself Glick. I asked if it was short for anything or a nickname and she just looked at me like I was an idiot. Still, she never actually answered that question.
We left the cabin and I showed her around. I told her that I would answer any question; all she had to do was ask. That was when she punched me in the face and asked, “Did that hurt?”
I do believe that I surprised her when I did not lock her back up or even hit her back. I just looked at her and gave a nod. Hopefully my smile wasn’t too creepy through the blood pouring out of my nose.
So, after I got the blood to stop, I resumed my tour of the area and told her that she and the others would be able to come and go as they pleased eventually.
She did not look convinced.
This evening, I told them my plan. I explained that, while I did not hold it against them, they had been led down the wrong path. Once they finished with all their ranting and raving, I told them that I had plans for them that were much bigger. I gave them the book report version of “How I Spent My Zombie Apocalypse” and was not that surprised to see their degree of interest change as I gave them a few of the more lurid details as enticing illustrations.
I don’t believe they are simply ready to put their past behind them today and embark on this new path, but the response was promising. I realize it would certainly not make the cut in a “How to Raise Your Child” handbook, but I think I am on to something by changing the focus of their violence from racially based to taking down predators.
One more note, I did see something in one of the girls’ eyes when I gave them my version of a mission statement; ditto with two of the boys. I may not be able to convert and save them all, but I believe I have some good inroads with a few of them.
Entry Thirty-Five—
I can’t believe it has been over three weeks since I brought this little gang of misguided children to my cabin. I wish all seven of them were still here, but I did lose one of them last week. Not to me, but—and this was something I am still trying to process as to whether or not it was good or bad—to the gang.
One of the boys decided that he was done and that he would be taking me up on my offer of letting him go if a month passed and he did not want to be a part of things. I made it clear that a decision like that would mean that I would be actively watching out to see if they might go back to their old ways. If so, they would become my next job and that I would hunt them like any other predator.
We just finished dinner and the kids were cleaning up. The boy who had made the announcement that he was leaving went outside to get water. Two of the others (including Glick) went with him. He did not return with the others and when I asked where he was, Glick said very calmly, “We killed him.”
At first I thought it was a joke. They do have a fairly warped sense of humor. When I realized they were serious, I ran down to the stream and found the body still lying face down in it. I returned to the cabin mad enough to do some damage. Glick was standing in front of the cabin, waiting for me. She was just leaning against the door with no concerns, no remorse…no emotion.
“What the hell!” I fumed.
“The rest of us are in,” Glick said.
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Actually, it is. He was going to kill you.” I looked at her and urged her to explain. “We sort of told him that we were with him, and that if he left, we would go with him. One of our old rules was that we are family, and family comes first.”
I was puzzled. If he was family, how could they just kill him? Besides, they had done so with what I considered a flimsy reason at best. A lot of people have
said
they were gonna kill me. Saying isn’t doing. He could have tried, but I don’t think it would have gone well for him.
“Our other rule is that we live by the majority vote. We voted on whether or not to follow you and it won by a vote of five to two. He broke the rules. The rest of us are in if you want us.”
Not exactly how I had planned things, but I would take it. Later on we will have a talk about taking the law into our own hands. I want them to be about providing hard justice…not adopting some brand of vigilante justice.
And yes, there is a difference.
14
Jess and Catie were on top of a six-story building. Down below, the Tennessee River wound past lazily. The day was beautiful, the temperature perfect. The gentle breeze coming from the west felt good on what little skin the two women had exposed.
“Why did you guys leave that one bridge in place?” Catie asked. The ruins of the other three bridges that had once spanned the river were obvious even after all the years since they had fallen.
“Funny story,” Jess said in a voice that carried very little humor. “We ran out of explosives. We actually had to rig Veterans Bridge twice, sonuvabitch wouldn’t fall. I don’t know much about bridges…or demolition for that matter. I often thought it had something to do with some of the supports being planted on Maclellan Island.”
“And am I hallucinating, or is that track across the river over there…” Catie pointed her voice sort of trailing off as she squinted.
“An ugly shade of baby blue?” Jess snorted. “Yeah, there was some sort of all-girl prep school over there.”
Catie shook her head and went back to watching the huge number of people massing up at the far side of the bridge that Jess had called the Chief John Ross Bridge. She didn’t have any idea who Chief John Ross was to have a bridge named in his honor. She also thought it was funny how people grew attached to the names they gave objects. They could call that bridge anything they wanted now, but they still referred to it by its Old World name.
“What do you figure their numbers to be?” Jess asked.
“Maybe it is because I haven’t seen large groups of people very often these days, but I gotta say they have at least a thousand in their ranks.” Catie brought her binoculars back up and scanned the people going about the task of setting up their camp in what had probably been a lovely waterfront park before the days of the undead. “I sure would like to know how they keep supplied. Feeding that many people on the move was a challenge before the apocalypse. I can’t imagine what they do to feed the masses now. That has to be a logistical nightmare. Especially since the days of scavenging from shops, residences, and vending machines is a thing of legends.”
There was a noise behind them, and both women whipped around, Catie with a throwing knife cocked and ready to hurl, and Jess with her pistol-sized mini-crossbow. The Beasties all froze, hands in the air.
“Ummm…you said to report to you as soon as we had something,” Louis finally said.
Catie shot a look at Braden; he still hadn’t spoken to her since she had returned with everybody willing to take part in what might be the most important fight of their lives. She would let him nurse his grudge for a few more days, but he was going to have to get over it eventually.
“You have got to be kidding,” Jess muttered. “Are these boys part Bloodhound?”
“It is a smallish sized herd. Maybe seven or eight thousand,” Mario reported. “I think somebody did the hard work for us. They are inside what used to be some sort of convention center to the west of here. If we can lure them up to Highway 27, we can lead them north to the river and then down along the waterfront.”
“How many people do you need?” Catie asked.
“We should be able to handle it. Like I said, it looks like somebody did all the hard work. They have been herded inside and are just milling around the interior of the place. They even went to the trouble of painting a sign saying to beware of the zombies inside.”
“The only part that will be even a little bit hairy is opening the doors and setting off that first noisemaker in the doorway. There are a lot of them wandering or standing around in the lobby,” Louis spoke up.
“And they are all mostly intact…even their clothing,” Chuck added. “I saw one of them with a fracking
Battlestar Galactica
tee shirt that I am totally stealing if I get the chance.”
All heads turned his direction with varying expressions of distaste and even outright disgust. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
“What? It ain’t like he has any use for it.”
“If that zombie is from the early days, that shirt has probably become part of its fucking skin.” Mario made a face. “You wouldn’t be able to wash the funk out of it if you found a truck of Old World laundry detergent.”
Chuck seemed to consider that remark and then shrugged his shoulders. “Won’t know until I get my hands on it.”
“Okay, well…” Jess shot a scowl in Chuck’s direction before continuing. “That is just nasty. Anyway, how long will it take?”
“Five…maybe six hours,” Braden answered, making a point of not looking at Catie. “We should have them at the bridge well before sunrise.”
“Okay, then I guess you should get moving,” Jess said after Catie gave a nod. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t need any help with this?”
“No, especially from an unknown,” Louis replied.
“Luigi!” Chuck snapped.
“What? I’m just saying that if one of those things gets in a lucky nip or scratch, we are fine. If an unknown takes a hit, the entire mission could fall apart when he or she freaks out and it would then be on us to take the person down.” Louis looked around with a sheepish expression on his face. “I just wouldn’t want to put somebody who did not know their status in a position like that. People who aren’t immune get a little uneasy around large numbers of the undead.”
“Good point,” Jess conceded.
The four young men turned and started down the rope ladder that was in place. Catie watched as they disappeared over the side and smiled as she heard them immediately engage in their normal good-natured ribbing.
“That boy is still pretty upset with you,” Jess said as they returned their attention to the army setting up camp across the river.
“Yeah,” Catie grunted. “He’ll get over it.”
“So, are you sure about this?”
“I think we both went to the school of leading by example.” Catie climbed to her feet. It was not lost on her or Jess that even that simple action was becoming more difficult as her pregnancy continued to change her body.
With Catie leading the way, the two women climbed down to the fire escape that was still firmly attached to the side of the building. They crossed the street and made their way up to the second level of a small parking garage where their own people were camped. Catie looked them over as she arrived. She just could not call this group an army.
“Okay, everybody,” Catie called. She noticed more than a few people jump at her voice. That was just another indication that these people, at least the immune that had lived such a sheltered life under Elliott, were not ready for battle. That army across the river would wipe them out. If she was not able to make the arrangements as she hoped, then this was all going to fall apart.
“We are heading to the bridge.” Catie climbed up on a car that had found its final resting place long ago. “You all know what your job is, and I don’t think I have to tell you what is riding on this. I realize that many of you are frightened, and just as many are probably already scouting out which way to run if this does not go our way.”
“Jeez, cut them some slack,” Jess whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
“This is not the time for that sort of approach,” Catie replied, doing her best to not move her lips. “I think this is the last thing we will need to deal with on any sort of major level. If we can turn them away, fine. If we can bring them to our side, so much the better and maybe we become the first real city to reclaim itself.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I know many of you are afraid,” Catie resumed her speech to the crowd. “That is normal. But it is not cast in stone that we will have to fight these people. For years, we have been running, hiding, and dying. We have stopped being a civilization and have reverted to the old tribal and nomadic ways. But, those nomads eventually figured out that they needed a place to call home. I say that this is that place.”
A murmur went up from those assembled. A woman stepped forward. Catie did not recognize her. With her gear, she could be immune or unknown. She could even be one of the refugees from Montague Village. Wasn’t this the world she was trying to bring into being? Didn’t she want a world where none of the past mattered and everybody could move forward starting today…now!
“Aren’t you afraid?” the woman asked. “If not for yourself, then surely for the unborn child you carry.”
“I’m terrified,” Catie admitted. “But after all these years, I came to the realization that I was tired of being afraid. Afraid of the walking dead. Afraid of humanity. Afraid of the unknown.”
“Then tell us why we should make the decision to follow you. Why should we do something that is terrifying and may very well lead to all of us dying? We have existed this long without fighting…without feeling the need to stake a claim on a piece of ground. Why should we just change things now?”
Once again there was a ripple through the crowd and it seemed as if they all moved forward, eager for an answer. Each of the faces looking up at her was a life that might cease within in the next few hours; all on her word…her decision. What could she give them that made this choice worth it?
“You say you have all existed. I say it is time to live.” Catie glanced at Jess, but the woman offered nothing; she simply continued to look out at the crowd.
“Don’t try to amaze us with semantics,” the woman shot back. “We have heard it all before. You aren’t the first one to say some of these things.”
“No? But how many were prepared to act? I have met many of your so-called leaders. They have made themselves kings. They held on to those old ideas that their position of leadership entitled them to sit out of the fray. They would send you in willingly to die for their cause because they remained safe. I will be at your side. It may well be that my body will be one of those added to the pyre when this fight is over.” Catie paused; she did not know what else to say. What would Kevin say to these people? How would he get them to follow?
“I think you all know by now what you will do,” a voice called out to be heard. Catie glanced over to see Jess coming up beside her. “This is now becoming like the child asking for another glass of water at bedtime. You are either part of this, or you leave and try to start over. But be warned, if you choose that second path, you will always be forced to move on when the next threat comes. And it will…in this world, they are plentiful.”
Without another word, Jess hopped off the stage and offered Catie a hand down. The two women started up the road towards the Chief John Ross Bridge. Neither looked behind them, but eventually, the sounds of many feet marching behind could be heard.
***
“Hold here!” Catie called. The command was echoed down the line.
The people came to a stop in little bunches. While it was certainly nothing close to military precision, at least nobody got pushed out into the cross street where they now stood, looking at the slight incline that would lead them up to the Chief John Ross Bridge. A few zombies had wandered out from wherever it was they had been sitting or standing for who knew how long and were quickly put down by some of the fighting force that now stood as ready as they could be.
“This is where we want you all to hold,” Catie called to the group. Again she waited for that to be sent up the line. She knew how old games like postman played out, so she would keep this short and sweet to hopefully minimize any miscommunication. “Jess and I will go alone.” Pause. “The Beastie Boys are bringing the zombies up this road, so stay out of sight after we leave.” She was a little worried about that one, but it could not be broken up any smaller in her opinion. “Wait for our signal before coming up the bridge.”
They had gone over this before moving out, but she still felt it was worth repeating. At last, she and Jess started up the road. She looked back once and saw that Kalisha had made it to the front of the group. The girl waved and Catie waved back. Maybe she would ask the girl and her brother to move in with her once this was settled—provided they all survived that long.
“You think this has a chance?” Jess asked once they were starting up the deserted bridge.
Catie was busy taking in the view and being amazed that not one single car remained here. She wondered why, and was trying to make sense of it, which meant that Jess had to ask her twice.
“I think everything is even money these days.” She paused for a moment before continuing and could tell that her answer had done very little to make Jess feel better.
Of course making anybody feel better right now was just not in the cards. If they were going to give it their all, then everybody needed to be thinking realistically. More than once she had seen overconfidence cause things to go awry. If people felt that they had to give it their all, then it was more likely that they would try harder. That would improve their odds.
“I think that, at some point, people have to be tired of fighting. Kevin once told me about his favorite scene from the original
Dawn of the Dead
. He said it was early on in the movie when Peter and Roger were down in some basement of an apartment complex. They were killing a bunch of zombies that were mostly tied up. Just as they finished, a door opened and some old priest came hobbling out. He said something about how we need to stop the killing or we would lose the war. I think that is truer now than ever before.”
