Deadland Rising (Deadland Saga) (S) (5 page)

Suddenly, I felt selfish we had so much stocked away in our vehicles.

Vicki carried in a cardboard box. “I’ll get started on dinner.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Picadilly said as she begun to roll her sleeves.

I dropped my sleeping bag next to the couch. “I guess that’s my cue to secure the house.”

“There’s no need,” Picadilly said quickly. “We’re safe in here.”

Connie watched us nervously and stepped closer to the stairs.

I frowned and looked upward. The light from my headlamp lit up an empty hallway and closed doors. I motioned to Jase, who was already pulling out his machete.

Clutch dropped his gear and pulled out his sword. “What’s up there?”

“Nothing,” Connie replied, but she didn’t move.

I pressed past her and took the first steps.

Connie came up behind me. “You’re guests here tonight. You don’t need to raise a fuss.”

At the top of the stairs, the woman moved around me and stood in front of a closed bedroom door.

“What’s behind that door?” I asked, feeling confident with Jase and Clutch on either side of me.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Connie replied coldly.

Picadilly ran up the steps. “Connie’s right. There is nothing here you need to worry about.”

I ignored her and grabbed the door handle to find it unlocked. Before I turned, I glanced at Clutch and Jase to find both ready.

Connie grabbed my forearm. “Please don’t.”

I opened the door.

Inside, my light shone on a single zed sitting on the bed. His jaundiced eyes reflected the light like a cat’s eyes at night. He came to his feet.

Jase lunged forward to strike at the same time Connie shoved her way into the room. “Don’t hurt him!”

She managed to squeeze her way in between us and the zed, making it impossible to kill it without going through her.

She cupped the zed’s cheeks. “There, there. It’s all right, Henry.”

The zed didn’t attack. Instead, he simply stood there, watching the woman with a dull gaze. I already knew what he was.

A Zen zed.

I couldn’t find the words. Clutch spoke first. “What the hell is going on here?”

“This is Henry, Connie’s husband,” Picadilly said. “And you don’t have to worry about him.”

“The hell I don’t,” Clutch replied. “He’s a goddamn zed.”

Picadilly wagged a finger at him. “You will not take the Lord’s name in vain in this house.”

Connie dabbed a tissue at something on Henry’s cheek, and I cringed.

“Henry was never quite right after he was bit. The fever caused some brain damage and hurt his vision, but as long as you’re patient with him, he’s okay. He’s a bit like a toddler, but he’s never been violent, not once.”

“How long has he been like this?” I asked.

“Since the first day of the outbreak,” Connie said while still watching her husband. “He picked up Freddy from school after some fights broke out in the classrooms. Poor Freddy had gotten sick, and when the fever hit, he bit Henry without thinking.”

“Fred is Connie’s son,” Picadilly said. “He’s back at Connie’s house. Unfortunately, the fever hit him harder, and he got quite the mean streak. Grace doesn’t seem to rain equally from God. When he got too much to handle, we were forced to move.”

“These are zeds you’re talking about,” Clutch said.

Connie snapped around. “Look at him. He’s not a zed.”

A gasp behind us, and I realized we’d drawn the attention of everyone.

“He’s…” Hali started.

“He’s a survivor,” Picadilly said before shaking her head with a sad, slow movement. “With the right medical care, I think he could recover more fully. We’re trying the best we can, but honestly, we don’t know what to do.”

Henry stood there, rocking from one foot to the next. While he didn’t look or smell rotten like other zeds did, he bore the gray pallor of someone whose heart no longer beat within his chest. He made a small moan, and Connie wrapped an arm around him.

Clutch pursed his lips. “How do you know he won’t go crazy one day and attack you both? You’ve got a time bomb ticking in this house.”

“We have to have faith,” Picadilly replied.

Connie nodded. “When there’s nothing else to go on, we can still go on faith.”

“Before Connie and I came to be together,” Picadilly said. “I was forced to break my vows. I murdered a parishioner who was attacking people in the church. I’m not proud of my actions, but I also know I had to do it. With Henry, we don’t have to kill anymore. He keeps the zeds away. He even kept Fred in line until the boy became violent.”

“He protects you?” I asked.

“As much as he can,” the nun replied. “He moves a bit slow, but he means well. He’s a bit scared right now, but once he settles down, you’ll see him open up after a bit.”

“Henry won’t bother you tonight. I’ll stay up here with him to keep him warm,” Connie said.

“No,” Clutch said. “It’s your house. Your fire. But, I can’t risk having my people stay in the same house with a zed. After we eat, we’ll stay at the café and head out in the morning.”

Few words were spoken through dinner. No one said anything when Connie filled a bowl of soup and carried it upstairs. By the time she returned, we’d all finished and were ready to head out.

“As long as you promise not to hurt our Henry, you are still welcome to stay the night,” Picadilly said, but Clutch hadn’t backed down, and I was glad. I didn’t think I could sleep with a zed—or whatever Henry was—upstairs, even if he was harmless.

As we drove the several hundred feet back toward the café, Picadilly and Connie’s waving forms disappeared in the rearview mirror.

Once I settled into the cold, dank café, my mind raced. I looked around the café. Memories of the two zed kids at the gas station filled my mind. They had been like Henry, likely forgotten survivors in this new world. I remembered other times when zeds had watched me and not attacked. Some I’d left, others I’d killed. Now, I couldn’t help but wonder how many harmless people I’d murdered simply because they’d been infected.

I’d convinced myself that zeds felt no pain, had no conscience. It was the only way I could kill without remorse. Holy hell, if not all zeds were mindless monsters, how was I going to fight without hesitating?

My God. How many innocents had I killed?

Chapter IV

Minutes before we headed out the following morning, I faced a recurring debate with Jase.

“Fox Park is hidden,” Jase said, his eyes pleading with me. “All anyone can see from the road is miles and miles of wilderness. I know it’ll be hard, but we can make it work.”

I put a hand on Jase’s shoulder. “We’ll make it back there. I promise. Just be patient a little longer, okay?”

Jase muttered something under his breath and went back to cramming his sleeping bag into his stuff sack.

I wanted to go back to Fox Park, too. More than anything, I wanted to return to something I knew. I also craved to be enveloped in the easy safety of New Eden. A familiar home versus trusting a man I’d known for barely a week. It was a tough choice. And I worried that we weren’t making the right one.

My mood became monotone after that. We drove for hours, stopping only to refuel from the gas cans we carried onboard. Every gas station we came to had been drained, with the exception of one that looked like it had gone up in a massive explosion.

As we covered miles on the westbound I-80, I stared out the window at the landscape. Leaves had long since turned color. What few crops were planted before the outbreak were now brown and well past ready for harvesting, and I wondered if we could use it for food or seed in the spring. Most of the fields remained unplanted and were already returning to their natural state of prairie grasses and weeds.

However, the biggest difference in the landscape from that of a month ago was the distinct lack of zeds. Before the massive migrations, zeds dotted the landscape, with herds grouping around towns. These days, I saw the rare corpse, recognizable as once human only by the tattered remnants of clothing draping it. The landscape was devoid of life, with most animals being taken down by zeds or wild wolves and dogs. Before the outbreak, I’d imagined hell as a desert-like environment, full of fire and brimstone. Now, I knew exactly what hell looked like. It looked like wherever I was.

Jase and Hali were sound asleep in the front seat next to Griz, who was behind the wheel. “Do you think we’re over the hump?” I asked Clutch, who sat across from me in the backseat. “That maybe we don’t have to worry about the zeds coming back?”

“I think that’s wishful thinking,” he replied before adding, “But it’d be nice.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I continued to watch the landscape passing by outside. I looked back inside to find Clutch watching me with concern.

“It’s only natural to worry,” he said, as though reading my mind. “It means you’re human. Just don’t let it screw with your head out there.”

My brow rose. “You’re telling me that you worry?”

“Of course. I’m only human.”

I watched him for a moment before giving him an almost-smile. We were the lucky ones. We were part of a small world of survivors, who were still capable of thought. That was, if my prior assumption about zeds still held any weight. “Henry really came out of left field,” I said.

Clutch nodded slowly. “Yeah. I didn’t see that one coming. But it doesn’t change anything.”

“Doesn’t it?” I asked.

“Believe me, if I could change the past, there’d be plenty I’d do differently.” He shrugged. “But, I can’t, and you can’t either. We have to accept things as we see them and keep on living.”

“Yeah, but what if there are a lot more zeds like Henry who can think and feel. What kind of hell must they be going through? Or, even worse, what if all the other zeds can think and feel, but can’t control their urges?”

He considered for a moment. “I think if zeds had control of their senses, they wouldn’t give into violence. So, no, I don’t think zeds know what they’re doing. I don’t even think there was anything going on in Henry’s head. If there was, I’d think he’d want to be put out of his misery.”

I cocked my head while I considered his words. “Who are you trying to convince: you or me?”

He shrugged. “Things aren’t so bad. We’re alive. We’ve got food, and we’ve got a place to go.” Even though he was a pessimist, Clutch always seemed to have more faith than I could muster. He reached over and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

Then he did something he'd never done before. He didn’t let go.

I sighed, my stress dissipating as I held his hand, and realized he was right. Even in this shitty world, things weren’t so bad.

“
We’re less than twenty miles out
,” Marco’s voice alerted us through the radio.

Clutch let go of my hand and leaned forward in between the two front seats to talk to Griz. “Do you see any good place to stop?”

After a pause, Griz pointed. “How about that machine shed on the farm over there?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Clutch replied.

I looked out the window and saw a small farmhouse with a couple small outbuildings, including a decently sized white tin shed.

Clutch picked up the radio. “Take the next road to your left. We’ll stop at the first farmhouse.”

“
Copy that, but I still don’t think this is necessary,
” Marco replied as they led us to the farm.

Clutch didn’t respond.

We parked and approached the shed. The doors were all still closed, and it took us less than ten minutes to verify that the building was devoid of any life, except for a cantankerous family of raccoons. A combine harvester, a couple tractors, and three wagons filled most of the interior, but there was still room for one Humvee with the trailer. We emptied everything from the remaining Humvee, leaving only enough food and supplies to keep us fed, warm, and protected for a couple days.

Humvees were taller than most residential garage doors, making it a bit more challenging than a car to hide. When Griz and Jase pulled the metal door closed, we all looked at each other. From everyone’s faces, they were as uncomfortable as I was about leaving behind over eighty percent of our “stuff.” But, the alternative was too risky. If New Eden reappropriated our food and supplies when we arrived, we could be in far worse shape than not having it at all.

Everyone except for Marco had agreed we needed to play it safe until we knew if we’d be staying at New Eden. If it became our permanent home, we’d share our food and supplies. Until then, we all felt safer with a cache.

As we piled ten of us into a single Humvee, Clutch stepped in front of Marco. “I need your word that you will not, under any circumstances, tell anyone about this.”

Marco scowled. “I already gave you my word. I won’t tell anyone. I get it. Hell, I’d probably do the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

Clutch grunted, and Jase tacked on a “we’ll see.”

Griz didn’t have anything to say because he was busy claiming the driver’s seat. Marco took the passenger seat, and Benji sat on the floor between his legs.

Somehow, we squeezed five of us into the back bucket seats, with Clutch and me on one seat, Deb and Hali sharing the other seat, and Jase on the incredibly uncomfortable hump. Behind us, in the unheated part of the Humvee, Frost sat with Diesel, and Vicki leaned into the pair for warmth…or probably because there was no other space due to all our food, gear, and weapons stacked around them.

Marco continued to try to reach New Eden on the radio, but with no success. We were still a few miles out from New Eden when movement caught my eye before the engine noise registered in my ears.

Three SUVs approached us from the west.

Marco leaned forward. “That’s the New Eden flag. They must’ve seen us coming,” his excited voice echoed through the vehicle.

The incoming SUVs flew American flags with an eagle stitched over the center.

Griz squinted in the bright sunlight. “Can you confirm? It could be a setup.”

“I recognize them. It’s New Eden!”

“We need to wait until we get close enough for you to verify their faces,” Griz said.