Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End (35 page)

47

Life goes on within the park. Abby issues commands to his people. “Let’s get the roster settled. I need to know who may have been lost today. Rough Rider, get our animals put away and our food stowed.”

As the assembly dissipates some, like Gar, linger wishing to help. The potsmith is near a bookish girl with glasses and electric blue hair in pigtails that arrived with the Rubies. She’s checking off names on a large list as she spots her people, confirming they have made it.

“Can I help you?” she asks the scruffy man she notices looking over her shoulder.

“No, I’m good,” he responds dreamily. “But, can I help you? What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to see who may have died on our way here,” she tells him with remorse. Two names on her list have been circled.

“I’m Gar,” he offers.

“Abacab,” she returns.

“That’s and interesting name.”

“My real name is Abbie,” she tells him with a slight smile.

“But, that’s his name,” Gar says sounding worried as he points to the leader of the Rubies.

“You’ll have to forgive my friend,” a man says. “Or, don’t. Gar has a theory about name repetition.”

“It’s just odd that there aren’t any folks with the same name,” Gar defends his belief against Eli’s usual doubts. “Like there’s some kind of un-natural selection at play, or a sinister force deciding who lives and who dies.”

“We have two Mikes,” Eli says.

“And, don’t think I’m not keeping my eyes on both of them.”

A commotion at the gate captures everyone’s attention, the Rubies and Army soldiers stop their integration to see what’s happening outside.

One of the spotters is speaking from the wall, “We have more inbound! Four women, one is on roller skates!”

“Are you expecting more?” Major Barnwell, the commanding officer of Story Book Land, asks Abby.

“No,” he responds with a shake of his head. “Abacab?”

“All are accounted for,” she speaks up. “We have five confirmed deaths from the road, no bodies for two of them; Ryan and Alice.”

The names take the wind from the lungs of the survivors, they feel guilty being happy to have made it when others did not. The sorrow runs far deeper with the inclusion of the little girl. Alice was the first official resident of their society, the first person Brass had saved. Losing her as well as Brass feels like having their hearts and souls pulled out.

“Open the gate,” Abby says in a firm tone, he’ll be damned if anyone else is dying out there today.

“We don’t even know who it is,” the Major reminds the young leader.

“The dead are elsewhere. Whoever these ladies are we can handle within the walls,” Abby explains.

The gate rises with Vida at the controls once more, this time without having to fight to work them. She brings it up just enough for the strangers to enter and then lets it down again after she’s sure no one else is coming.

Panting and sweating, the new faces collapse in a heap. They look around desperately, their eyes wide with fear and hopefulness. A semicircle of serious looking people surrounds them, armed and ready.

“Who are you?” Abby asks.

“My name is Kil…Kaitlyn Bacall,” a blonde from the pile speaks, gasping. She’s the one in skates that the spotter had reported. “We were being held against our will by some men…My friend Rocky said I should ask for a man named Brass,” she explains, hoping it is enough.

“Brass is gone,” Abby tells her. “These men, were they holding up in a burger joint just north of here?”

“Yes.”

“Abby, I remember her friend,” Lady Luck says. “She’s the chick that was with the guys—short hair, right? Very scrappy?” she confirms with Kaitlyn.

“She saved us from some bad shit,” Peace Maker adds. Abacab confirms the statement with a nod beside her.

“Well, welcome to Story Book Land,” Abby says slinging his rifle. “You’re safe now.”

Peace Maker, Abacab, and Lady Luck go to aid the ladies. They may not have known this Rocky very well, but want to show appreciation for what she did for them, even if she isn’t around to benefit.

Section XIV: Thin Red Line

1

For the most part the integration of the Rubicon people among those of SBL goes smoothly. The soldiers welcome the vastly more experience civilian militia, their own tactic since the onset has been mainly falling back and digging in. Most haven’t seen any actual action. But, not all assimilations have been easy.

“Can I help you?” Rough Rider asks a man that has been lingering for far too long in his opinion. Having found a nice place for the animals in and around the park’s petting zoo, spending hours trying to calm them down after such a frantic transport, he’s just noticed a man that has been suspiciously giving a lot of attention to what he is doing, especially the young calves.

“Sorry,” the man bashfully says with a German accent. He hops over the splintered post fence that surrounds the area and hurries over to the animal tender practically bubbling with excitement. “Pardon my staring. You have some very lovely animals.”

“Uh—thanks.”

“It’s been ages since I’ve cooked veal, I’m been absolutely craving it.”

“It’ll be longer still, Frenchie,” Rough Rider breaks it to the man without explaining further.

Heartbroken, the German takes on a stern demeanor. “I’m not French, I’m German. Perhaps you recognize me, Erich Pobachnig from television?”

“Nope.”

“Rough, this is Chef Pog,” Soul Train sidles into the conversation, he recognized the man instantly and has always wanted to try his food.

Rough Rider takes a better look at him, squinting his eyes. “That shithead on TV that’s always yelling, makin’ folks cry in the kitchen?”

“Yeah. He’s world famous,” Soul Train continues.  The man in question straightens his posture with pride as his praises are sung. “James Beard winner, among other awards. He had three restaurants before he was twenty-one, and about six different cooking shows.”

“And, through some twist of faith he and I find ourselves as equals, neither owning shit,” Rough Rider says. “How’s business going, baby killer?”

“You have plenty of young in your herd, several of the heifers are clearly pregnant. Surely you can spare a few!” the chef persists.

“Ain’t happening. Fuck off.”

“I believe food should be a feast for all the senses, not just stuff to shove into our mouths!” the chef responds angrily.

“I got something you can shove in your mouth, you monster.”

“This rationing is encumbering my creativity!”

“You’re a cook not a novelist,” Rough Rider retorts.

“Food should speak from the soul!” the man says angrily. “I create statements on a plate, art. Any act of creation is an expression.”

“I made a chair once, outta wood, it was beautiful. All I was saying was ‘sit down’.”

“I will take this up with Major Barnwell!” Chef Pog proclaims, giving up on the argument and storming off.

“Bigger cows give more meat!” Rough Rider yells at the man. “Don’t be mad at me, it’s just fucking science!”

“Sorry, Soul,” Rough Rider apologizes now that he’s able to calm down. “You know Peace and I birth these critters, raise ‘em, nurture ‘em, love ‘em, and then slaughter ‘em as needed.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

“I guess you’re inclined to be on his side, considering you’re…”

“Gay?” Soul Train offers sounding insulted.

“A foodie,” the animal tender corrects his friend.

“Chef Pog can make magic happen on a plate. I would love to taste what he can do with veal. But, you’re right. It’s an extravagant use of our resources and a waste. I can wait, he ain’t going anywhere, right?” Soul Train begins to walk away backwards to keep his friend in view. “Wanna check this place out with me?”

“Naw, I better stick with the animals until this matter is settled. I know he’s going to the head guy, who will then go to Abby. Such a stupid fuckin’ thing is going to create tension between our ranks.”

2

“Carla, you don’t have to do this,” David says with concern. “Just let someone else do it.”

“He’d do it for me,” she says, gearing up. She fastens her old gun belt over her sweatpants and slings her AK-47. Hefting Oz’s SAW reminds her that it’s impractical for her to take, but she likes the idea of having it, like taking a piece of him with her.

“Oz is dead. He won’t know who pulls the trigger. You have a lot of little survivors to think about.”

“They are all I think about. They’re all I have.” She’s now the single mother to twenty-four children that her lost love had rescued. Carla has spent the past two weeks since the man’s death doting on them and her brother, Sid, not letting any of them out of her sight.

“I don’t get it,” David says. “Since you got back, you’ve turned into super mom. The worst helicopter parent I’ve ever seen, and now all of a sudden you’re going out there? You wouldn’t let me, or Lindsey, or Barb, give you a single night off, and now you’re leaving the park to be Sheriff again.”

“I was the Sheriff of a town that was overrun by zombies and is now under water. I might as well have been the Sheriff of Atlantis. I’m not going out as a soldier, just taking care of unfinished business. The Rubies have the soldiering covered, I’m not needed.”

The people of Rubicon have been busy expanding a perimeter beyond the wall, they made a special effort to extend a corridor along the highway and secure the area Oz had fallen. They left him for her as she requested. Soon the Rubies will have the whole Florida peninsula under human control once more.

“This’ll be my last outing until the world beyond the wall is safe,” Carla says. “You sure you got this?”

“I took care of these kids long before you ever met them,” the male nurse says with confidence. He had kept them safe during the first day of the plague back at Olive Grove Hospital in Waterloo.

A knock at the door is answered revealing Dan Williamson. “Ready?” he asks to be sure, he’s since become used to seeing her in frumpy attire and without make-up, but it is odd to see her armed to go out without her usual Sheriff garb. The young lady that turned heads in New Castle is showing definite and warranted signs of depression. Dan and Heather have been worried and hope this outing will help her, at least get her eating again.

She doesn’t say ‘yes’, she just steps out into the hall and heads for the elevator. Upon their arrival in Story Book Land, Carla and Oz were given the presidential suite along with an adjoining room to accommodate the entire brood. Though the couple had enjoyed a private sleeping area she has taken to staying with the kids at night, fighting reoccurring nightmares of Oz’s death as she restlessly tries to slumber on the couch amid the rows of roll-out beds. Sid was given a room just across the hall.

Barbara joins them in the hall as she leaves the room she shares with Lindsey, the young girl looks excited as she steps into the elevator.

“Hey, Barbie Doll! What’s up?” Dan asks his longtime friend from day one, they had been through a lot together that day.

“The Coast Guard is dropping off more survivors!” she says, bubbling. “The Major asked if I’d mind doing the intake and getting them settled in.”

“That’s great!” Dan congratulates her, amazed how much she has grown in the past year and how mature and helpful she is for her age. “What do you know about them?”

“Nothing. It’s a mother and her two sons. I’ll find out more in a sec when I meet them.” Barbara notices that Carla is armed, not a common sight to see these days. Story Book Land isn’t the open carry place New Castle had been. “Are you going out?”

“There’s something I have to do,” Carla answers, her voice flat.

“Oh,” Barbara realizes what that thing is, she puts her hand to her mouth embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Carla assures her, she forces a smile.

Dan and Carla board the black truck acquisitioned for this mission of closure. In the bed is a thick black body bag and two shovels. Carla plans on burying Oz on the beach where they had spent a lot of time since their arrival here, usually with the kids, but sometimes just the two of them.

3

“I’m sorry,” Barbara apologizes to one of the new arrivals that have been brought to the hotel reception area. “What did you say your name is?”

“Hippocrates Newton,” the kid says with embarrassment, this time not mumbling. “Actually my last name is Johnson—just not legally. You can call me Hippo.”

“Nice to meet you, Hippo. My name is Barbara. You can call me Barb, or Barbie, everyone does. I just have to ask you guys a few questions…”

“Excuse me,” the older of the two boys interrupts the friendly girl. “Can I ask if you’ve seen someone here?”

“Of course!” she says with a smile, she loves bringing lost relatives together, it hasn’t happened often but it always warms her heart. “I have a roster of all the people that live here. What’s the name?”

“Oswald Johnson,” he says, trying not to get his hopes too high. “He may be in there under the name Oz.”

Barbara’s scalp tingles upon hearing the name. For the span of a breath, if she was able to draw one, she is speechless.

“He’s a rather big guy,” the boy continues. “He’s my dad.”

“He’s my dad too!” Hippo says, hurt for not being included. “He just doesn’t know it.”

“Jesus Christ!” Barbara suddenly exclaims once she is able to fully understand what is going on. She rushes around the table and takes their hands, tearing them from their seats in a hurry. “Come on!”

Susan is perplexed as the girl runs out of the hotel with her children. She has no choice but to dash after them. They follow her through the park, unaware of what is going on or where she may be taking them. The entire time she is telling them over her shoulder to ‘hurry’ and something about ‘missing her’.

Out of breath by the time they reach the main gate, Barbara finds they have in fact missed her. The gate closes and now they will have to wait for Carla to return.

####

Dan and Carla arrive at the cornstarch factory, entering the chain-link barricade the Rubicon soldiers have set up, a courtesy they extended to Carla for Oz’s sacrifice. The place gives them both chills and brings a sick feeling to the pits of their stomachs. Carla recalls how mad she was at her lover for his foolish mistake, letting a fear of needles keep him from taking the shot that would have saved him.

“Stay here,” she tells her friend when he reaches for his door handle.

“You sure?”

“I’ll get you when I need you,” she tells him.

The last time she was here the place was very dark, now the Rubies have it lit with portable shop lights. She’s relived the day every night since, as if her mind is trying to figure out what could have been done to change the outcome, it never can. The damage had been done before they even left on the mission.

The shipping area they had flooded with water and cornstarch to ensnare the dead looks different. Upon the floor and walls is a layer of white chalk from where the Rubies had excavated the ‘magic mud’ once it had dried into a solid. At the center is a column they have left behind. All the New Breed had been culled leaving one classic zombie trapped in a solid block, Oz.

Only his head has been uncovered, the rest is encapsulated in the concrete hard corn starch. The head shifts as she approaches, staring right at her. It moans as she draws near. Carla bites her lip, causing pain to keep her sorrow in check. It kills her to look into his eyes and not see her man looking back into hers, Oz isn’t home. The ghoul in his place looks at her and sees only food, it struggles against the rock hard substance that binds it trying to get its mouth closer to her, to sink its teeth into her flesh.

Foolishly, she had the notion that perhaps she’d see him inside somewhere, maybe Oz would have been different, too strong to be turned fully. She had fantasized about this day, being able to help him out and regain his humanity. Tears begins to fall, she can no longer look at him. She draws her pistol trying to remember the words she had practiced for this moment but they escape her. The man that once held her, slept beside her, now only wishes to devour her. She puts the barrel of her gun against his forehead and he thrashes his neck in a manner that would cause a living person pain. He’s trying to bite the hand that teases his hunger. Carla takes a breath and pulls the trigger.

The single shot that rings out startles Dan though he had been expecting it. He exits the truck and waits for Carla. He feels he should have been in there with her to support his friend and say goodbye, but he knows that it’s best to respect her wishes.

Eyes red from crying, Carla emerges. Neither says a word to one another or the silent soldiers that have been protecting the area since the fence went up. Dan carries the bag and the shovels as he follows Carla back inside. They will have to chop away the white block that encases the body, break the big man free and place him into the bag. Once that is done, they heft him onto a flat cart to get him to the truck. Offering a slight wave of thanks to the Rubies as they leave, Dan drives them back to the theme park.

Many faces are present to greet them as the gate rises and they drive in. Dan had expected a few to be waiting, but not this many, all of New Castle and Rubicon are there. The large gathering parts for them as they proceed toward the road that’ll take them to the beach, but not enough for them to access it. The large throng isn’t letting them through as if trying to keep them here.

Dan’s first impulse is to use his horn, but he figures that might be distasteful before a funeral. “I’ll see what’s up,” he offers, getting out of the truck.

“Barbie,” Dan calls upon seeing her face among the small group that holds them from their goal. “Do you mind? Get these folks out of the way, please.”

“No.”

“Huh?” he asks her, baffled. She very seldom says ‘no’ when it comes to helping someone out.

“Carla has to meet these people,” she says with a smile.

“She really isn’t in the mood to…”

“She’ll want to meet them, trust me.”

Dan explains the situation to his friend who exits with a sigh. There aren’t that many people on the planet that when they say ‘trust me’ can actually be trusted, fewer now than ever, Barbara is one of them.

Once out of the truck, Barbara escorts three people to her; a woman and two boys. “These are the folks the Coasties dropped off today. Go ahead,” Barbara urges the oldest boy.

“My name is Killian Johnson, Oz Johnson was my father,” he says with deep sadness, the news had to be broken to him while they waited for Carla to return.

“What?” Carla asks unable to believe what she has just heard, her hand goes to her mouth from the shock and fresh tears fill her eyes.

“I’m Hippo,” the smaller boy announces. “He was my dad too.” Being slighted a second time earns the eldest boy a nudge in the hip from Hippo.

Oz had mentioned having a child, and how his ex-wife had been pregnant with another man’s baby when she left him. He understandably had suspicions that it could have been his, but always figured the three would be better off with the man his wife chose over him, a man that could actually provide them with everything they could ever want or need. A better life is all he ever wanted for his family, even if it meant him not being the one to give it to them.

Beyond the ability to speak, Carla is dizzy on her feet, she has to hold onto the side of the truck to maintain her balance. Looking into the boys’ eyes in turn, she sees him, she sees Oz. Killian has the man’s height and chin. Hippo has his build and nose. Both have his eyes only theirs look sad, they are fighting not to cry and as soon as they see Carla lose her battle against tears they surrender theirs. She collapses, wrapping her arms around the two of them, the three weep together.

Dan scans the crowd that is gathered, watching at the scene. They are all moved to tears. Motioning for a few helpers, Dan raises volunteers to disperse the crowd and give them their privacy.

Carla smiles after pulling back the last of her sobs with a sniffle. Her eyes sparkle with joy now, the first she’s felt in a while. “There’s some people you two have got to meet,” she tells them.

“Who?” Killian and Hippo ask.

From the group that filters away, heading toward the beach to await the funeral, one large cluster remains behind. David and the two dozen children Oz had taken on as his own.

Hippo, Killian, and Susan are regaled by the tale of Olive Grove, how the man they knew had saved twenty-four children from Waterloo with the help of David, the friendly male nurse. She tells them about the massive ball of fire that almost fried them in the semi Oz drove, about surviving the winter in an Ultra-mart, and how they had journeyed to New Castle, finding a home by chance when Oz discovered the body of King Bruce and his journal.

Behind the boys, listening just as intently is their mother. Carla has yet to meet her eyes, or make any effort to greet her. She has mixed feeling over this woman.

“Uncle Dan and I have something we have to do,” she says hitching a thumb to the man next to her, the one named ‘Muzzleloader’ in her story. “Why don’t you go with David to the botanical garden and get some flowers for the funeral?”

Though she asks as if requesting, her voice is stronger now, her old confidence returning. It’s an order and they all know it.

“This way kids,” David conducts the diversion. “Nice to see you again, Sheriff,” he adds with a smile.

The woman that had arrived with the two boys lingers wanting to speak to Carla. The story of the man she had discarded for one that she felt could offer her and her kids more, how he had stepped up to take on the care of so many, has moved her. She attempts to talk but is too overwhelmed at the moment.

“Susan,” Carla says her name coldly, knowing it from Oz’s mention. “I hate that this is the first thing I’m going to say to you, but I just have to get it out there: You and I will never be besties. I hate you for what you did to that man, yet I have to thank you for it. Had you not done what you did, I never would have met him. He would have been off trying to save you. If he was still in love with you, he never would have let me into his heart. For the sake of our kids, and I do mean
our
kids, I will remain civil.”

Susan is taken aback by Carla’s forwardness, but she nods her understanding.

“Now, go get some flowers,” Carla motions her in the direction the others have walked.

Everyone has turned out for the funeral as the sunsets; the people of New Castle that knew the man the best, the folks of Rubicon that he had helped, and the soldiers of Story Book Land out of respect. Words are spoken of his bravery and valor, of his character and caring as he is finally allowed to rest.