Life Among The Dead (Book 3): A Bittersweet Victory (30 page)

“He’s right. I’ve been getting it from Lady
Luck. The sentiment, not companionship. It’s funny how all it takes
is for someone to point you in the right direction before you
finally take that first step.”

Abby looks up and meets Vida’s gorgeous brown
eyes. Brass and Lady Luck have been working this from both angles,
gently pushing them towards each other. All it took was one last
shove.

A crowd forms at the gates of Story Book Land
in the early morning hours. Folks from the lost town of New Castle
wish to see their friends off. The mood is somber despite the
warming sun that lights the brilliantly colored theme park. Only a
select few are privy to the exact details of the mission, but
everyone worries for the safe return of those departing.

An air of concern has been circulating among
the survivors over the past couple of weeks. They’ve noticed a
reduction in the patrols that would come and go to localized areas
beyond the walls. Civilian volunteers have been limited to those
that exit by way of the private beach to fish, and have been
forbidden to step foot on the shores outside the walls.

Zero eight hundred hours has already passed.
Brock Rottom and two soldiers in plain clothes wait near a yellow
Hummer for the rest of their party. Oz and Carla are still at the
armory, which was once one of the park’s many gift shops.

“Nooo,” Carla says with irritation as she
hands an unsatisfactory assault rifle back to a soldier behind the
window. “I don’t want
an
AK-47. I want
my
AK-47.
There’s a chip on the butt from when I used it to crack
walnuts.”

Oz smirks at his girlfriend’s honesty. He had
an equally difficult time acquiring his SAW. Carla had given it to
him, complete with a personalized engraving. He’d be damned if he
didn’t get it.

Another assault rifle is brought out for the
discerning Carla, who inspects the stock. “There you are, baby,”
she coos to the Kalashnikov she is accustomed to, and had
customized. Using a kit back in New Castle, she converted it to
full-auto. “Mama’s here.”

She and Oz are ready as soon as they sign out
the weapons and ammo, along with a few other items. They head to
the designated departure zone and whatever this mission holds for
them. From the heart of the amassed people there to bid the team
good luck, Dan Williamson emerges.

Though Jack is old enough to walk himself,
Dan and Heather have decided to use a dual stroller. The boy is
very adventurous and has a tendency to run off, so in the
excitement they fear losing him. Vincent is shaping up to be just
as willful. The younger of the two may not be as sure footed yet,
but he mimics whatever his big brother does.

Dan guides his family, walking with a slight
limp from the slip-on prosthetic he wears on his left foot. He is
supposed to be getting his blood taken but figures it can wait
until after. He and his wife want to have a private farewell with
their extended family.

“Are you guys ready for this?” he asks.

“Absolutely!” Carla says. “I’ve been wanting
to get out for a while now.”

“We’ve only been here three months.” Oz
chuckles.

“Yeah, but once you’ve been on all the rides,
and have seen all there is to see, you just want to go home. Of
course, since this place is home now…”

“I see you have some unexpected tag-alongs,”
Dan refers to the soldiers that will be accompanying them. “They’ll
blend right in.”

“I saw them put ankle holsters on,” Oz says.
“Not exactly useful when on the run from the dead.”

“Oz thinks they’ve been ordered to kill Brass
if he doesn’t submit. Take over and get the people here.”

“If they want this bad enough to send you
guys out, I wouldn’t doubt it one bit,” Dan agrees.

“Uh-oh,” Heather says when she notices three
men in fatigues heading their way. So much for a private send off.
“I think they want to know what the hold-up is.”

“Mister Williamson,” one of the soldiers says
to Dan. “I believe you have an appointment at the lab, don’t
you?”

Dan gives a sigh of frustration. “I’m heading
there after I see my friends off.”

“As you wish, sir,” the soldier says, yet he
and his two partners linger.

He wonders if they actually did schedule the
blood draw to prevent him from stowing away and going out. All he
can do is shrug it off. “Duty calls us all, I guess.”

Hugs and handshakes are exchanged. Oz is
reminded of his many kids as he looks down at the Williamson boys.
He’s happy he said his goodbyes to them last night, because he’d
hate to have folks see him tear up.

“We’ll be back soon, with all the survivors,”
Carla promises as she hugs Heather.

“Just make sure you make it back.”

As soon as the members of the mission are
loaded up and cruising out the gates, the soldiers lose interest in
Dan. One remains behind to politely cough, reminding him he has
somewhere to be.

“Honey, I’ll catch up with you later,” he
tells his wife before a quick kiss. “I have to go lose some of my
precious blood.”

Morning arrives for the stranded pair in
Harrington, however Brass has not. Abby and Vida tested their
defenses and hadn’t encountered a single threat, not from the
living or the dead, or even from each other. With only one another
to wile away the hours until dawn, they talked.

If they had only met in a world that wasn’t
built on shaky ground they could have lost themselves in the
moment. After Abby had realized he could risk falling in love, they
nearly gave in. It was Vida who stopped them from continuing past
their first kiss. She lost Brandon and everyone else she ever
loved, and she isn’t ready to put her heart in someone’s hands only
to have them die holding it. It’ll take time, and Abby let her know
it’s all right. They can take it slow.

“What’s taking so long?” Abby says. He has
been going back and forth between the windows and the monitors. He
radioed the next post, but they haven’t spotted Brass heading
through yet.

Awkward silence is never a good sign in any
blossoming relationship.

“There he is,” Vida says.

The black Riviera speeds across the monitors
observing the roads. On his heels are the voluntary watch standers
that will be assuming the post.

“I’ll get the gate if you want to make sure
we have everything.” Abby places his hand on the small of Vida’s
back on his way out and it feels comfortable to them both.

“Abby, how are we this morning?” Brass asks,
after negotiating the K-rail blockades that sandwich the entrance
with a figure eight. He doesn’t ask for details, or even bring up
his scheme.

“You know me,” Abby says. “Living life, being
awesome.”

###

“Now? Can we switch seats now?”

“No, Brock!” Carla snaps at the clown who
squeezes himself between the two front seats. They aren’t even out
of Florida yet and already he is annoying her.

Brock whispers with urgency, “These guys are
creeping me out! I swear the one on the right never blinks.”

“They’re just a little stiff.” She tries to
put him at ease.

“He has a point,” Oz admits. “Guys, you’re
supposed to fit in, right?”

“Those sticks up your asses are a dead
giveaway,” Carla says. “Try to look more--”

“Human,” the clown says. “Try smiling.”

Brock Rottom gets nowhere when he
demonstrates the act. He exaggerates his facial expression so much
his red ball-nose pops off. The momentary embarrassment gets a
slight chuckle out of the robotic men. Just enough emotion for
Brock to see they aren’t displaying great military bearing, they’re
afraid. “You two haven’t spent much time outside, have you? You’re
with good people. And think about it. If these folks decide to come
back with us, we’ll be travelling with an entire army. Not that
your army isn’t a good one.”

Oz slows down when he sees signs of life on
the road: places boarded up from the inside, piles of trash
accumulated under second story windows. They are about to have
their first close encounter. “We’ve got company.”

A truck is parked across the road, barring
passage and forcing the Hummer to stop. It also allows an old black
sedan to catch up from behind to seal the trap. No aggressive moves
are made by the vehicles. They just sit and wait.

###

“I have nothing against the Hummer, Abby,”
Brass says. “I’m just saying I don’t like that bright yellow color!
It’s almost as annoying as those tiny little debutante sports cars
that men buy, though they are way too big for them. I wouldn’t even
look right in one of those. The only guy that can pull off one of
those is James Bond.” He realizes he’s ranting and stops himself
before going on too long. He just needs to stall, buy time to put
the intruders off guard.

On their way out of Harrington, their relief
called them and the next closest post to report a trespasser. They
halt their progress, but now they have to discern whether this
invader poses a threat or not.

“I spy with my little eye, a big guy and a
small female in the front seat,” Soul Train reports through his
radio from the nearby post. “Looks like two more dudes in the back.
Definitely military. Very stiff. Kinda look like yearbook photos of
serial killers. There may be a third in the back as well, slumped
over.”

###

“Where did it go?” Brock Rottom feels around
the floor for his misplaced nose. “I can’t meet new people without
my nose!”

“Brock, shhh,” Carla says.

“Do you want me to do the talking? I’m really
good with people,” he asks, still searching. He reaches deep under
the front seats in case it rolled there.

“I’ll do the talking,” Oz says, not actually
answering Brock so much as letting Carla and the undercover
soldiers know that he’ll make the first move.

“I found it!”

###

“Yeesh!” Soul Train says over the radio,
after recovering from the initial shock of what just popped up
inside the back of the Hummer. “The fifth one is creepy.”

Brass spies the strangers through binoculars.
“This is great. Vida, you get a lesson in diplomacy. A delicate
situation. We have no idea what these people want, or why they are
here.”

He hands her his set of field glasses while
Abby sits in the back, intently watching from between the
headrests.

Brass continues, “We need to wait, make them
uneasy, force them to make the first move. Then we can see--”

“Brock!” Vida says suddenly. She exits the
car and leaves the specs on the seat.

“Does she know these clowns?” Abby asks, then
he pushes the seat in front of him forward to exit the two-door
car.

“At least one of them, it seems.”

###

“We have one coming from behind,” Carla says.
She observes the approaching figure in her mirror. “Ooh, she’s
pretty.”

“The others are getting out too,” Oz
says.

Brock turns so his knees are on his seat and
he can look out through the back window. One of the men approaching
from the black car is a little person. “That’s why the major didn’t
want me to use the ‘freak’ word. I would never say that! Us clowns
and the little people have a long history of friendship, dating as
far back as--”

“Brock,” Carla says, “shut up.”

Oz rolls his window down to hear what the men
on the girl’s heels are saying.

“Vida, stop!” the man of regular height
warns.

“Everyone stay put,” Oz says as he exits the
Hummer. Unarmed, he walks casually to meet the trio. He notices
those in the truck aren’t getting out, and they probably have him
in their cross hairs, ready to fire at the first sign of trouble.
“Are you Brass?”

The smaller man laughs. “You’re from Story
Book Land. Only someone from there would come asking for me by
name.”

“We didn’t expect to meet you so soon,” Oz
says.

“We’ve been expanding. Just set up a new
outpost in Harrington,” Brass explains. “It’s good that we met down
here actually. It’ll save you the trip to Ruby. Please go
home.”

“We’ve had developments of our own that may
change your mind.” Oz subtly gestures to the back of his ride. “Can
I show you something?”

In the back, among their supplies, ammo, and
provisions, is a small computer loaded with a video file. As Oz
gets it ready, the others exit the Hummer. After living behind
thick, high walls for so long, they feel exposed. Though the steel
hide of their transport is reassuring, Carla wishes she could aim
her rifle, should the need arise.

Vida walks to the clown. “Do you remember
me?”

“Of course!” he says. “I could never forget a
face like yours. You were in the convoy, right?”

“That’s right!” She hugs the man that saved
her and the group from the rogues on the road. “Weren’t you going
to Eagle Rock?”

“I did. It’s gone now,” he tells her
sadly.

“Oh no.”

“I was able to get a small group out of
there. Been living it up in SBL ever since.”

“My friend, Gabe’s son and daughter-in-law,
got taken there by soldiers,” Vida says, unsure if he knows who she
means. She thinks back to that day for something he might remember.
“Gloria! You saved Gloria from that guy. Her husband and her never
stop fighting…”

“Oh! The Bickerons!” he recalls the couple.
“I almost had to make them ride on the roof!”

“You got them to Story Book Land? That’s
great! Gabe will be so happy!”

“It’s a small world,” Abby jokes as he
watches Vida’s reunion with the heroic clown.

“And getting smaller,” Carla says. “Actually,
you’d be amazed how often this sort of thing happens.”