Dead: Siege & Survival (11 page)

It was almost dark by the time they reached their objective. Kevin was cold, tired, and hungry, but since Willa kept quiet, he remained silent. Once they cleared the wall and ducked into the trees, they scooped out a small pit to hide in while they ate what proved to be the last MREs in their packs.

“What was the last home cooked meal you ate?” Willa asked as she squeezed the last of the pot roast and gravy from the pouch and into her mouth.

“You’ll be mad,” Kevin opened his candy bar and popped it into his mouth, an audible moan escaping his lips.

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because it wasn’t that long ago. One of the best finds we came across was an Italian restaurant. We were pretty well stocked when it came to pasta and that sort of thing.”

“So you guys have been eating pretty regular meals?”

“Mostly.”

“I guess it’s just so much harder when there are twenty or thirty of you than when there are just a few.”

“Simple mathematics,” Kevin said after swallowing. He tried to savor every second of that flavor from the chocolate bar as it melted and trickled down his throat. “I walk into a house and discover a full pantry and I can eat for days…maybe weeks. A group of thirty might make it a day…if that.”

“So are you saying we shouldn’t band together?”

“No, because you also need security, and that is where the numbers come in, but you need a balance.”

“And what determines that balance?”

Kevin had a feeling there was more to Willa’s question than she was letting on. She wasn’t making eye contact, which was very unusual for her.

“You know that when this is all over, I’d like you to stay…I don’t want you to think that once you’ve helped me out that you need to go.” Kevin leaned back against the side of their little snow pit.

“What about the others?” Willa finally spoke after a moment.

“They will be thrilled to have you,” Kevin said with a dismissive wave.

“No,” Willa sat up straight and looked Kevin in the eye, “I mean
my
others…the rest of my group.”

Kevin scratched his chin thoughtfully. He hadn’t ever considered it. When she’d shown up in Newark and offered to help, he just assumed she’d left her other group.

“How many?” Kevin finally asked.

“Never mind,” Willa dismissed his question and turned away.

“Wait!” He was pretty sure he hadn’t done anything wrong. He simply wanted to know what they were looking at in terms of logistics. He’d acquired farming tools and even scored the location of a serious farm where he would be returning in the spring to gather up even more stuff. If he did it right, he would never need to head west for the Dakotas. He could continue to develop and fortify this location. It would allow them access to several cities and towns without being smack dab in the middle of populated areas where the probability of large numbers of zombies would be likely.

“I’m asking because I plan things,” Kevin explained. “I think it would be fantastic to have your group join mine. I bet we have fewer problems like what is happening now.”

“Twenty-seven,” Willa whispered. She looked up at Kevin through a lock of hair that had fallen across her eyes.

“That’s not so bad,” Kevin said with a shrug.

“And you wouldn’t have a problem with all of us joining you?”

“Let’s get through this first,” Kevin said. “But no…I wouldn’t have any problem and neither would my friends.”

“We’ll see,” Willa said and closed her eyes. “Now get some rest, we will move out a few of hours after dark. It is gonna be a long couple of days.”

5

Vignettes XXVI

Aaheru stepped out of the hotel and into the unseasonably cold afternoon. The breeze coming in off the sea was a mixture of salt, sand, and death. From this location, he could see down into the city of Alexandria. With the sky clear and the sun just starting its climb, he could see their route almost perfectly.

In the parking lot, a flurry of activity was taking place, but it was as if the world had been muted. Nobody spoke much above a whisper as they loaded equipment into the various cars, tucks, busses, and vans.

“I am ready to depart, my Pharaoh,” a soft female voice said at his back.

“Ahmes, my child,” Aaheru said as he turned to face the young, dark haired girl. Her body was extraordinarily developed for only just celebrating her fifteenth year. “Have all the preparations been made?”

“Yes, it has been done as you demanded.”

“The sacrifice shall be rewarded.” Aaheru placed his enormous hands on Ahmes’ tiny shoulders.

“It is at the pleasure of our pharaoh that we serve in any way demanded.”

Yes
, Aaheru thought,
he had chosen well in all aspects
. His advisor was unflinchingly loyal. The woman he’d recently selected to replace his previous companion was turning out to be precisely what he needed. Being pharaoh was more than simply assuming the title; there was a certain air of authority and power that he must exude if he were to truly revive the entity and office of a true Egyptian pharaoh. This young woman tended to his needs in a manner befitting a god.

A god
, Aaheru mused. The pharaohs of old were considered the representations of the gods on Earth. Their edicts were not placed before anyone for approval. They simply were law. The time had come for Aaheru to demonstrate his power.

He looked across the parking lot to the bus being loaded with all the women—the Mothers of Egypt as he had named the remaining women of child birthing age. Standing beside the door was Markata.

Since almost the first day he had arrived, Markata had used his conniving ways to avoid any sort of work. It came as no surprise that he had been a cabinet member under the Egyptian president. That entire administration had spent years weakening Egypt’s standing in the world. They had abused the people and used the military like a father’s correctional rod. Unfortunately for Markata, he thought things like paper money still had meaning.

When the first man had come to him and reported that Markata had offered him useless paper to be eyes and ears around camp, Aaheru had told the man to accept the offer. That man had found himself living in one of the nicer tents and having extra portions of food and water.
That
, Aaheru chuckled inwardly,
was the new currency
.

Food, water…and women.

All of those were under Aaheru’s control despite what Markata believed. When the first rumblings of insurrection surfaced, Aaheru welcomed them with what was almost able to be called relief. So he waited for the perfect moment. It was important that his message be seen, heard, and felt by all.

“The women are all on the bus,” Ahi said. He had come up beside Aaheru unnoticed. “Markata has all of our women…and he will make an attempt to break away from the caravan the first sign of trouble. We will not be able to avoid some rather tense moments during this journey. The opportunity
will
present itself, Pharaoh.”

“Yes…it will,” Aaheru said with a smile. “Now please see to it that everybody is loaded up and that we are ready to depart in the next five minutes.”

Ahi nodded in affirmation. He knew better than to say anything more. It was clear that Aaheru remained unconcerned about Markata. Perhaps he did not value the women as he claimed…or perhaps he had some sort of an arrangement with the man and chose not to divulge the details to a simple underling.

Growing up as a homosexual male in Egypt, being paranoid had become an art as well as a way of life. The laws strictly prohibited such things and the current regime…
former regime
, Ahi reminded himself, maintained that they were punishable by death. It was all kept very quiet to avoid any sort of global intervention, but the secret police made many late night visits to individuals who were reported. None of the men Ahi knew that had been “taken in for questioning” were ever seen or heard from again. Perhaps this was just another case of being paranoid.

It took a little longer than desired, but eventually, the convoy rolled out of the parking lot. The first few blocks were almost like a normal early morning drive. They only had to weave around a few abandoned vehicles until they hit the highway that would lead directly to the waterfront. Having used it a few times already as supplies were ferried to the ships that awaited their arrival, the zombie traffic was a problem early on.

On the roof of every vehicle were men who Aaheru handpicked to dispatch the walking dead that might manage to gain a hand hold on any of the vehicles. On the lead vehicles, each of the men had a black case with several pipe bombs made with propane canisters. If the concentration became too great, it was hoped that they would be able to blow a hole big enough to drive through.

Aaheru was in an armored bank truck and just two vehicles behind Markata. He watched everything with intense interest. He was confident in his intelligence reports regarding the man, but had he missed anybody? For the first time, he felt like little more than a soldier in the Egyptian Army. He had been given orders, and he followed them without question. Now…he was giving them.

Just ahead, one of the men atop the rickety van lost his footing and fell over the side. A sea of undead arms that waved back and forth like stalks of wheat in the wind caught the man, he vanished from sight in seconds. There were so many of those walking abominations that Aaheru could not even hear the man’s final screams.

The caravan had slowed to a crawl by now. As they passed an on-ramp, it looked like Markata had chosen the time and place to make his move. He veered to the right just as the front end of the convoy emerged from the first huge mob.

The bus made a wide U-turn and headed for the ramp. Aaheru was impressed. There was no way anybody could react in time and at the top of that ramp was a business complex that would be easy to hide in. Markata had indeed thought this out.

Well…almost
, Aaheru thought as a huge smile spread across his normally serious countenance.

The bus accelerated right after a man’s body tumbled out the door and rolled several times on the road before coming to an awkward halt up against the burned out husk of a compact car that looked more like a toy than a means of transportation.

Just as it reached the crest, there was a huge explosion. The bus literally broke in half and both pieces spun away in flames. An oily black cloud rose in a thin column that resembled an accusatory finger that pointed at the heavens.

The caravan began to increase speed as many of the walking dead that barred the way turned or veered off towards this most recent stimulus. Aaheru glanced back at Ahi, his smile still wide enough to cause his cheeks to cramp.

***

“We’re just trying to be helpful,” one of the older boys, no older than eighteen, spoke up. “But if you’d rather stay here…” He looked past Juan, April, and Al at the seemingly never-ending wave of undead flowing down the hill and across the four sets of train tracks.

“No, we’d love a ride in
our
boats,” Juan said as he jumped to the ground.

“Ain’t no
our
or
my
anymore,” one of the girls snapped.

“Cool it, Betty,” the first young man said. He turned back to Juan who was helping April down. “You two can come, but we can’t let your other friend on board.”

Juan looked down at Al. His eyes told the story. The young man was infected, of that there was no doubt.

“We can’t just leave him like that,” April insisted.

“You don’t have time to debate this.” The boy reached out a hand as the other three boats began to pull away from the shore.

Juan looked back at Al. He could see the fear in his eyes. There was no way he could leave the man behind to be torn apart and eaten alive, but he wasn’t about to stay. He made eye contact with the youngster in the boat and nodded. Juan grabbed April and shoved her forward into the boat. He hopped in behind her as the report from a high caliber rifle drowned out any protests.

The boat lurched and then spun around to take them out into the river. Juan sat up as April shoved him and scrambled out from underneath. She looked back to shore just in time to see Al disappear under a swarm of zombies.

“Would you rather he be alive for that?” Juan said in answer to her angry glare.

“So where did you folks come from?” the boy asked.

“You mean in
our
boat?” Juan shot a withering glance at the one called Betty. “How about we exchange names first.”

“My name is Frank.”

“Juan Hoya, and this is Amber.”

“April,” she whispered,

“April,” Juan corrected.

“Well I could give you everybody else’s names but it wouldn’t much matter would it?” Frank laughed and flashed a smile at April who smiled back oblivious to Betty’s glare.

“It’s been a rough afternoon,” Juan grumbled.

“So what were you guys doing down by the old lumber treatment facility?” Frank asked.

“Actually we were trying to make a run on the Freddie’s,” Juan explained.

“That many zombies came out of Freddie’s?” Betty exclaimed.

“No,” Juan turned to the girl, “they came from somewhere and followed us. We lost most of our group.”

“So where did you guys come from?” Frank asked.

“Sauvie Island,” April spoke up.

“And what was the deal with you guys chasing that dog?” Juan asked. “You guys planning on eating him?”

“First off,” Betty snickered, “
he
is a she. And
Gidget
is immune to the bite. We just took the bandages off her leg and she took off and went straight to the water.”

“So you guys are kinda young,” April made the blatant observation.

“We were counselors at Outdoor School,” Frank explained.

“Huh?” Juan scratched his head.

“It’s a program with the area schools where they send sixth graders to camp where they learn about nature and ecology in the best classroom in the world,” Betty said.

“The local high schools provide the counselors,” Frank continued. “I went as a kid and couldn’t wait to be a counselor. We were waiting for the busses when Mr. Zachery showed up in his car with the news…we thought it was a prank. There are no televisions and we are required to turn in our phones and stuff, so we really didn’t know.”