District: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (25 page)

3:45 p.m. MST

Clearly not happy to have been cooped up in the F-650 during
the return trip, the second Jamie opened her door Max jumped over the seatback
and sprang off her lap and into space.

The hairy missile hit the ground running, claws and paws
kicking up a spray of dirt and grass, and rocketed across the clearing on a
collision course with the throng of survivors. Easily overtaking Oliver, who seemed
to be taking his time making his way to the RV, the Shepherd didn’t hit the
brakes until he was almost on top of the two girls sharing a single reclining
lawn chair under the awning.

After ducking the sudden salvo of airborne soil, Raven threw
aside the blanket and rolled off the reclining chair only to find herself on
the receiving end of a blast of warm dog breath and sloppy licks to the face.

Brook, who was standing on her toes and waving Lev and Jamie
over, saw Max accosting her girl and knelt to his level to scratch his ears.

“He’s a bundle of energy,” Raven said. “Aren’t you, boy?”
She wiped the slobber from her face and joined her mom in showering attention
on the dog that had adopted the Grayson family back at Schriever in September.
Now nearly November, and in an entirely different setting—trees and mountains,
versus concrete walkways and airplane hangars—the multicolored pooch seemed to
have adapted just fine and seemed to have adopted the entire Eden group as his
pack.

Brook rose with a grimace and looked to Sasha. “Why don’t
you and Raven take Max down to the end of the runway and throw a ball for him.
I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

“Almost ready,” Tran called over his shoulder.

“Go,” Brook said, the underlying sense of urgency in her voice
lost on the girls.

Tran motioned at the girls with the greasy barbecue tongs.
“Don’t go
too
far,” he said in his sing-song voice.

The obvious dig at the unsanctioned excursion that almost
got Raven and Sasha killed and saw them punished with ninety days dishwashing
duty was
not
lost on the girls.

Raven pursed her lips and glared at Tran for a beat.
Finally, she said, “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll stay where you can see me.”

Also regarding Tran with contempt, Sasha rose and tossed the
blanket unceremoniously onto the lounge chair. “And
I
won’t lead her
astray.”

“Bird’s her own keeper from here on out,” Brook said. “After
what nearly happened the other day, I can’t see either one of you girls making
those
kinds of bad decisions ever again.”

Lev handed Raven the small therapy ball and curved,
long-handled device he’d brought with him from the truck. “This will save your
arm.”

Raven took the items and started walking toward the
airstrip. Once she made the first of the two parallel packed-dirt tracks, she
turned a hard right and sprinted away with Sasha close behind and Max bounding
excitedly through the narrow strip of tall grass growing up between the
beaten-down tire tracks.

Brook watched the girls go. When she turned and cleared her
throat to quiet the soft conversation, the air of confidence and total control
she always displayed in front of her daughter was gone. In its place was a deer
in the headlights stare. Her shoulders were rounded. And more pronounced than
it had been in days, the stiffness and lack of range of motion in her right arm
made her seem frail and aged beyond her thirty-five years.

After exchanging a knowing look with Duncan, she let her
gaze walk over the assembled survivors. Everyone save for Cade, the girls, and
Seth, who was currently watching the cameras, was present.

Sensing something was amiss, Glenda rose and came to Brook’s
side, steadying her more with her presence than any kind of physical act.

Oliver, Daymon, and Foley were already seated—the latter two
chatting quietly between themselves prior to seeing Glenda’s silent gesture. A
half-beat later they were mute and waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.

In the process of arranging camp chairs of their own, Lev,
Jamie, Taryn, and Wilson also froze and turned their undivided attention to
Brook.

As if on cue, the steady hiss of the barbecue grills died to
nothing and Tran quietly closed both of the gleaming lids to keep the early
evening chill out.

In the next half-beat, shattering the still that had fallen
over the clearing, the door to the RV hinged open with a clatter and Heidi came
bounding down the retractable stairs.

“There’s my man,” she called, plopping down on Daymon’s lap
and nearly pitching them both head over heels in the already unstable folding
chair.

Pressing a finger vertically to her lips, Glenda shot a
glare Heidi’s way and wrapped her arm around Brook’s shoulders.

“I’m glad most of you are sitting down,” Brook said. She
cast a furtive glance over her shoulder in the direction of the girls.
Satisfied they were well out of earshot, she again cleared her throat and went
on. “What I am about to tell you caught me completely flat-footed a few minutes
ago. Matter of fact, I’m still processing it all, but I fear if I don’t get it
out in the open now, denial will set in and I’ll stuff it all and maybe put my
family and all of you at risk as a result.” She walked her gaze around the
semicircle of survivors. Save for Duncan, whose affect was flat, expectant
looks had settled on each and every face.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Glenda asked.

Heidi began to apologize for her rude interruption, but was
herself interrupted as Brook relayed nearly verbatim the troubling news Cade
had just broken to her over the satellite phone. Minus her husband’s exact
verbiage, what Brook said in a low voice was the same thing she had shared with
Duncan in private moments before deciding she owed it to the group to inform
them as well.

“Infected?!” Oliver exclaimed, his body suddenly going
rigid.

“The lady said, ‘
might be
,’” Glenda corrected.

Addressing the elephant in the clearing, Oliver said, “So
she may be infected and it’s
OK
with everyone here that she gets to stay
inside the compound? Good God, she’ll be locked underground with”—he did a
quick head count—“at least twelve of us. Any of you want to take a chance of
her turning and eating one of us?”

“Stand down,” Duncan hissed. “She hasn’t turned. And there’s
no reason to believe she is going to anytime soon.”

Daymon was leaning around Heidi and regarding the newest
member of the group with a death glare.

“
Oliver
,” Glenda barked, shooting a look only a
mother could at her child. “You apologize right now.”

Oliver said nothing as he rose and started off in the
direction of the compound.

“Stop, Oliver,” Brook said. “The last thing I want to do is
put you or anyone else in jeopardy. I’ll think of something.”

Oliver stopped and turned back toward his mother.

“You can stay in the RV tonight,” Daymon said, tearing his
eyes from Oliver. “Consider it yours until Cade gets back. Then you two can
decide on what’s best for your family. Figure out where you want to go from
there.”

Duncan bolted up from his chair and nearly spilled his new
shotgun and cleaning kit from the low table. “
Go
?” he said, incredulous,
the veins in his neck beginning to bulge.

Daymon raised both hands in mock surrender. “Figure of
speech,” he said. “I was in no way suggesting we exile Brook. That was the
last
effin thing on my mind.”

“I was,” Oliver muttered as he turned and continued on his
way.

Foley leaned in toward Lev. “Good riddance, motherfucker,”
he whispered. “That big baby was getting on my nerves.”

Lev nodded. “We put him on notice today.”

Addressing Duncan as he sat back down, Brook said, “It’s OK.
I didn’t take it that way.”

The flush still draining from his face, Duncan removed his Stetson
and set it on the table with the Saiga.

Brook leveled her gaze on Daymon. “I’ll take you up on your
generous offer. But only for tonight.”

Jamie asked, “What about the girls? What are you going to
tell them?”

“I’ll have Sasha suggest a sleepover,” Wilson said.

In a funereal voice, Jamie asked, “When and what are you
going to tell the girls?”

“We’ll have a family meeting once Cade returns,” Brook said.
She swallowed hard and ran a hand through her dark hair. “I’ll tell Raven the
truth once Cade returns. As for Sasha, I’ll leave it up to you, Wilson. You
know her best.”

Wilson said nothing. However, actions speaking louder than
any words could, he grasped his boonie hat’s worn brim two-handed and pulled it
down tight so that his eyes were barely visible.

“Settled,” Brook said, forcing a weak smile. “Now I hear
someone wants to take a vote on going north to—”

“Bear Lake,” Daymon said, finishing for her. He produced the
matchbook found in the attic and proceeded to give a play-by-play account of
the day’s events, leaving out only the brief stop at the sprawling house east
of Woodruff and the
tests
Oliver was subjected to.

Once Daymon finished, the others added their observations,
the most astute among them coming from Wilson, who posited that if those people
came south looking for food and supplies, chances were, they were likely to be
aggressive and many in number.

Daymon scoffed first at that. “We can’t let assumptions
based on one dissected walker and a couple of booby traps likely set by whoever
carved ADRIAN into a windowsill dictate where we go. If we do, we’ll run out of
food before winter is over. If that happens … we
will
be forced to find
out their true nature while at half-strength and bogged down by the weather.”

“I agree with Daymon,” said Lev. “However, if we do wait for
the weather to turn, when we do go out, the dead things will be taken out of
the equation.”

Duncan shook his head. “We can’t wait,” he said. “Goes
against everything I’ve been taught. If Cade were here he’d say the advantage
goes to the one who acts first. Or he’d pull some other Sun Tzu kind of quote
out of thin air.”

“I’ve heard him quote Churchill,” Wilson said. “Can’t
remember hearing anything by the other two dudes.”

“Sun Tzu is
one
dude,” Daymon said.

“You can quote
me
,” Duncan said, again rising from
his camp chair. “Let’s quit pussyfootin’ around and put it to a vote. Those who
want to go north and claim what ain’t nailed down as our own please raise a
hand.” He stuck his hand in the air and fixed each person in succession with a
steely glare.

Daymon was first to indicate his willingness to go.

“I’m all for it as long as I get to go,” Foley said, raising
his hand.

Tran thrust his greasy tongs into the air. “We need more
food,” was his reply.

Taryn and Wilson looked around and once Lev, Jamie, and
Heidi threw their hats into the ring, they also added their votes to the
affirmative column.

Always the voice of reason, Glenda said, “I’m on the fence
on this one. Shouldn’t we wait until Cade gets back so he can go with us?”

“Mother Nature is about to turn on the snow spigot. That
road out there”—Duncan gestured toward 39—“it’s normally closed during the
winter months. Getting in and out is going to be next to impossible once it
starts spitting and decides to stick around.”

Daymon shifted in his chair so he could lean around Heidi’s
cocked elbow. “Even if we did want to travel east after the snow sticks, we’ll
not only be giving away our position by the tire tracks, but it’s likely we’ll
also find ourselves clearing a bunch of downed trees along the route.”

“And trucks running on snow in four-wheel-drive burn a hell
of a lot of fuel,” Foley added.

“My arm’s getting tired,” Taryn said.

After a forced half-smile, Glenda raised her hand. “You sold
me.”

A trio of two-way radios warbled simultaneously. Brook
fished hers out and said, “Yes, Seth?”

“Why is everyone waiting for you to call on them?”

“We’re taking a vote.” She motioned for everyone to relax
then quickly filled Seth in, assuring him his vote would have been solicited
had he been needed to break a tie. That being far from the case, she still
asked his opinion.

Voice tinny and marred with a burst of static, he said,
“What’s it matter? No one ever asks me if I want to go out on runs anyway?”

“Do you?” Brook asked.

“No way. I’m cool running the security pod. Just thought I’d
bust your—.” Realizing who he was talking to, he cut short his quip. “I say yay
to as many runs as you want to go on. Just keep your eyes out for Cheetos, will
you?”

For the first time since she’d dropped the bombshell on the
group, Brook smiled. “Will do,” she said. She scrolled the volume down and
looked a question at Duncan.

Duncan did a quick headcount. “Eleven for going to Bear
Lake. Though he’s not here, I’ll count Oliver’s vote as against.”

“Against going outside the wire for
anything
,” Daymon
quipped.

With a puzzled look settling on his face, Duncan singled the
dreadlocked man out. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Daymon answered. “Around the
campfire. Over s’mores.”

“Bear Lake it is,” Brook said. She walked a few feet away
from the group and whistled. “Girls … dinnertime.”

Tran began heaping plates with generous portions of steaming
meat and potatoes.

Instilled from years of food service, the instinct to jump
into the fray struck Heidi and Wilson near simultaneously. Each balancing a
half-dozen plates on their outstretched arms, they had dinner and drinks served
before the girls had walked half the distance from where they’d been exercising
Max at the far end of the clearing.

“Before the kids get here, I have something else to say.”