Snareville II: Circles (22 page)

“Hey, kid,” I yelled over the storm as it built around me. “Hey, kid, c’mon. Look at me.”

He rolled his face around to see me. Panicked blue eyes looked up into mine. Okay, he was a good looking kid. About nine or ten.

“Good, good. Look, kid, we have to get out of this weather. You alright?”

He nodded his head, hand still over his ears. I looked around, gun at half port. Jake stomped on the pavement. He was getting antsy. This storm blowing up was going to swamp us. I didn’t see anyone else on the other side of the gate. I glanced around. Ella had the shotgun up, a line from Jake’s harness wrapped around her arm.

“Okay, kid…”

“Kevin.” The kid shouted over the storm.

“What?”

“Kevin, my name’s Kevin.”

I grinned. At least he could think. “Okay, Kevin. I’m going to open this gate. You have anyone with you?”

He shook his head. Damn, I hated this. Without a thorough search of the area, I didn’t like to open gates. But I didn’t want to leave this kid in the rain on the asphalt. I fished the keychain out of my pocket, sorted through them, slid the key into the padlock. I holstered the pistol, as Ella stood behind me. I pulled a free end of the log chain through the gate and swung it open just enough for Kevin to get in. He dove through, wrapped me in a bear hug as I relocked the gate.

More rain began to fall. I scooped the kid up, ran for the cart. Ella was a step ahead of me as she turned Jake loose. We raced the rain back to town. I could see it coming down in a wall of grey on the far edge of houses, then it was on us. Like a cold shower from a dead water heater. I slid close to my daughter, Kevin pressed between. We rolled up to the hospital and parked Jake under the awning that covered the little entrance door. Kevin struggled, until I just picked him up and carried him inside. Ella shouted she would take Jake to the barn and cool him out and be back. As my new charge beat on my back, I carried the little whirlwind inside.

Chapter 31

The group stood on the sharp west bank of the Wabash River. Henry spit into the clear water six feet below them. The Humvees were parked a mile behind them on the median of Interstate 64. The string of dead vehicles reached that far back. They were in southern Illinois, trying to cross over into Indiana. Four days of travel had got them almost out of the state. They avoided Champaign. It would a glowing crater for years. I-64 was the best route to Kentucky, but they had to get across the Indiana state line first.

On the eastern side of the border were parked an M-60 Abrams tank, a Bradley Fighting Vehicle and several Humvees. Both lanes of traffic were blocked over the bridge. East, beyond the roadblock, it was clear.

“I’d heard of this happenin’,” Mart said. “Since we was the center of the outbreak, they tried to keep people from crossin’ out of the state.”

“Don’t know if it worked,” Horse said. “Water’s not real deep. Folks could have just rushed across.”

“Look at the banks,” Henry said.

For a moment, no one saw anything. Then the picture became clear. A skull here, a set of ribs there. The river had washed a lot of the bodies away, but there were still a few remnants of those who had tried exactly what Horse suggested. Not many had made it across the river, from the looks.

Henry took the folding road map out of a pocket in his pants and opened it. “There’s no other way across for miles up or down this river. We’ve got to find a way across.”

“We should have rode horses,” Mart muttered. “Wouldn’t have this problem.”

“True,” Henry said, as he studied the map, “but we couldn’t carry the equipment and trade goods we needed.”

“Geronimo and fifteen Apaches kept twenty thousand US troops busy for a year and they only had the supplies they could carry on a few horses.” Mart grinned.

Henry looked up. “When’d you get so smart?”

“I get bored out there on the plantation, Boss. Girl’s got to do something to pass the time if she’s got no man around.”

Henry blushed. Horse grinned behind them. Johnson offered to keep her from being bored. Mart snapped that he couldn’t handle her. This brought a round of cat calls and teasing. Horse slid his arm around her shoulder and offered that an old man may be slower, but he knew what he was doing. It was Mart’s turn to blush and the girls to make the catcalls.

“Alright, people, this isn’t getting us across the river,” Henry said. He turned and led the way back to the Humvees. The others followed and soon they were parked on the north edge of the highway along the banks of the river.

“Okay. I’m going to take Mart and scout north along the river to find a place to ford. Jinks, you and Cody go south. The rest, stay put. We’ll go a half click. If we don’t find anything, we’ll come back. One hour, everyone comes back. I want eyes and ears open, people. This would be a hell of a place for an ambush.”

“You want us to check out the Bradley and the Abrams over there, Boss?” Beno asked. “Might have some stuff left we can use.”

“Good idea. Two look, three cover. If everything runs, we ought to send word for a salvage mission.” Henry looked over across the river. “I don’t recognize the markings, but it must be Indiana Guard. Let’s go.”

The three groups separated. Henry and Mart slipped into the long grass and brush along the banks of the river. They were swallowed from sight within a few feet. Henry took point with his shotgun. In the heavy brush they picked their way through silently. He could only see a few yards in front of him. He didn’t worry about the others. They all knew their jobs. This wasn’t the first time on the way south they had had to find an alternate water crossing. The little streams they could ford. Bigger bodies, they either found a ferry, which had become common business again, or dragged vehicles off the bridge with the winches of the Humvees if it were jammed.

County roads and state highways were easier to travel. Folks hit the interstates to get away in a hurry. But to get over the state line across the Wabash, they had to take I-64. There just wasn’t another way across unless they went way north, or way south and then they would have to cross the river in Indiana.

Two hundred yards they crept through the brush. Henry stopped. With a silent signal, Mart stopped behind him. She scanned the brush to either side, ignoring the deerfly that buzzed around her head. In front of them, a small clearing the width of a narrow road opened and led to the river’s edge.

Both dropped to the ground to crawl forward the remaining distance. They lay flat at the edge of the trees as they looked both directions. It was a little road. From the west, it came through the tall grass that had been a cornfield. The banks had been carved into a gentle slope. Rocks and gravel had been hauled in to create what looked like a solid ford. The bank on the east side of the river had been cut away as well. The road led away into the brush until it faded from sight.

“Well, at least we know someone’s livin’ around here,” Mart said. “We found a way across.”

“That’s what worries me. No one’s out here. Is this so well traveled they don’t bother to guard it? Zeds don’t like water, but this is shallow enough to cross without getting washed away.”

“Probably part of a trade route,” Mart said. “They’re all over the place.”

“So where’s the trading post?”

“Away from here. Look, that water’s deep enough and clean enough, I’m getting in it. I stink.” She stood and began to peel her shirt off.

“Mart, are you crazy?” Henry whispered. “We don’t know if this area’s clear.”

Her panties and bra dropped onto the rest of her clothes. Dark brown skin glowed in the sun. With the Mennonites, she didn’t often get this much exposure and she reveled in it. She stretched her body its full length to welcome the sun on her skin.

“Mart!” Henry hissed from the ground. “Get down here.”

She looked at him in the grass and smiled. “Make me.” She dashed out of the brush into the roadbed, giggling. “Come an’ get me.” She crooked a finger at him before she splashed into the deeper water south of the crossing.

Henry growled at himself as she teased him from the water. Nothing stirred around them. Even the birds continued to sing. He checked his watch. They still had a half hour before they needed to get back. Another quick scan of the area and he stood. He felt fully exposed, but then he glanced at Mart as she did a handstand. Water flashed across her behind before she fell back in and rolled to the surface, laughing.

Suddenly, he didn’t care if he got shot dead in the middle of the river. He shucked his clothes, laid down his guns and joined her. She shied away from him at first, played coy, then let herself be wrapped in his arms as his mouth sought hers. The world fell away as they kissed. Water lapped against their skin, bodies pressed together. He felt his erection press against the thickness of her bush.

“You done chasin’ after that skinny white dyke?” Mart asked.

“Maybe. I am for now.”

“Boy, wake up. She got what she wanted from you. She got herself an’ her girlfriend a baby. You just a sperm donor. You got me. I fell in love with you first time I saw you comin’ across that Wal-mart parking lot.”

“How’d you know I wasn’t a zombie?” Henry ran his hands across her bum under the water. “You and your unit should have shot me on sight.”

“Zeds travel in packs. You was alone. You was in uniform. You was carrying your rifle. You wasn’t a zed.” She kissed his forehead. His eyes. His lips. He wanted to lift her onto him. Started to, when she let out a gasp and her whole body went tense. He stopped the kisses, followed her wide eyes. They weren’t alone.

Three women watched from the bank. Two stood. Tall women. One with blond hair that reached the middle of her back. A strand blew across her face and she swiped it away absently. She wore a denim skirt, slit up both sides and what had been a white collared shirt. The sleeves and buttons were gone and she tied it in the middle to close it. From her bottom lip to her chin were three black tattoos. Her lips were blackened, with lines that curled away across her cheeks. Her thighs and forearms had long triangles tattooed to the joints. She carried an AK-47 with a bandoleer of ammo crosswise from her shoulder.

Her opposite was dark haired, with one long braid pulled down her back. She was tattooed and armed much the same. Both girls had bright blue eyes. The brunette wore only a pair of extremely short shorts and a leather vest. What caught Henry’s eye were the black, heavy plain work shoes they wore.

The one who was apparently the leader squatted, wrists resting on her knees, over their clothes. She was blond, with a waist long braid on either side of her head. She wore no shirt or vest, simply two crossed bandoleers of ammo for the AK that rested in the crook of her shoulder. She wore a long denim skirt, split on either side. Her tattoos were far more elaborate than the others. Spirals and curves followed the contours of her face. Her lips were done in black, with three lines from her bottom lip to her chin. The overall look was that of an old fashioned Maori warrior Henry had seen pictures of in a tat shop when he got inked after his first year in Iraq.

The tattoos on her thighs were the same long triangles that reached to her rear end. From there, they became small diamonds that covered her back and belly. Swirls and lines covered her breasts and shoulders and flowed into triangles again as they reached her upper arms.

“Hello?” Henry tried from his position in the river. He had pulled Mart to him and somewhat shielded her with his body. The women on the shore said nothing. The leader pulled a small cigar from a pouch around her waist, spun the wheel of a zippo and tortured it to life.

She exhaled a long stream of white smoke into the afternoon sky. For a moment, she said nothing more. Then she held up Mart’s shirt. “Only reason you are not dead is these patches. We saw dem on the uniform uf a walking dead man last summer. He’s in the pit.”

She spoke with a chopped German accent, Henry recognized that much, but couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t important right now though. “Our leader sent people out to observe last spring. Some never came back. At least we know where one of them ended up.”

“Ya. We wondered where he came from. He was wit six others who didn’t wear much of nothing.” She took another pull from her cigar. “We figured you were not dead when we heard your woman laughing. Just stupid.”

“My name’s Sergeant Henry Hawk. This is…ah… Private Mart. We’re Raiders from Snareville.”

“I’m Elizabeth Yoder.” She nodded her head to the other blond. “This is my cousin Mary Yoder.” A nod the other direction. “And my other cousin Gertrude Schmitt. We call her Gertie.”

“Can we come out?” Henry asked.

Elizabeth stood. They gathered the weapons left on the clothes. She chittered from behind her teeth. Two other women, inked and armed the same as the others, nudged their lanky black horses from the tall grass. She handed the weapons up to the newcomers. None of them looked to be older than her mid-twenties.

“Your woman first,” Elizabeth said.

Mart glanced at Henry, who nodded. She stood from behind him, hands trying to cover her body. She took two steps before she realized how silly she must have looked, as the women before them were barely clothed themselves. She straightened, dropped her hands and marched to shore with her chin up. She didn’t bother with underwear, but jammed her legs and arms into her uniform, buttoned everything into place and stuffed the rest into her pockets.

Elizabeth waved the muzzle of her rifle at Henry, he followed suit of Mart. They stood in front of the girls as water from their bodies soaked through their clothes. Elizabeth handed Henry the radio he wore plugged into his ear.

“You are with others?”

Henry nodded. “We’re out on a mission to make contact with other people and see what damage has been done. Our trucks are back at the bridge.”

“Call them. Tell them to meet you there. Use no codes. Just tell them you will meet them at your trucks in ten minutes.”

Henry made the call. Jinks and Horse both asked him to repeat the message, which he did. He didn’t elaborate. That in itself would have been enough to alert his troop something was going on. He didn’t want to shoot it out with these ladies, but he didn’t want his people to just be rounded up like cattle, either.