Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict (31 page)

The
homeless, addicts, and others came later, filling the ranks. If large enough
groups formed in the early days and kept to the back roads, they could have
survived long enough to join up. Still, this seems unlikely. I’ll have to think
on that some more.

The big
question is what about the children and women. You can’t tell me that all these
men left their kids and wives and girlfriends behind. Some did, possibly, but
there is no way they all acted so callously. They would have tried to save them,
probably parents and siblings as well. The prophet’s people had to have
non-combatants. They existed, and there was either a large group watching over
them or they were very close to the fighters. Personally, I think they’re
concealed in the mountains of Utah, or maybe inside Salt Lake City itself, now
that it had been cleared of the dead. The prophet would want them close.

One last
thing. The people from Salt Lake City had brought many of their aircraft with
them to Wyoming. While the majority of pilots headed west toward the areas held
by the military, quite a few chose to remain.

*
* *

The
drive back was uneventful. As before, I allowed Mary to chauffeur the twins,
while I was alone. I could have accepted one of the latest batch of newcomers
as a passenger, maybe several if they wanted to sit on the floor – you may
recall that the rear seat of my Jeep had been removed and discarded long ago,
never to be replaced – but I needed a bit of quiet time to think.

There
were forty three people with us. As requested, most were men, though not all,
with the bulk related to those who’d already joined us. More were on the way as
well, but that would have to wait. I stated firmly and repeatedly that we
needed time to get situated, that summer and nice weather notwithstanding,
there were serious housing issues. This took us up to four hundred twenty four
people with thirty in the Black Hills and two, Lizzy and Marcus, floating
between the two settlements. You know, the count is starting to get
complicated. I think I’ll stop worrying about it.

Tim was included
within this number, and Mary was not at all pleased when I informed her he was
coming. I may need to re-evaluate my initial theory on why Mary showed no
interest in the boy. At first I put it down to them being worlds apart in
experience and background, even if they were roughly the same age. Now, I think
it might be that Mary simply doesn’t care about dating or romance. She just
turned fourteen. Some girls date at that age, lots talk about boys, but others
wait until later. This could be the case. Or, it might be that he was
undeniably infatuated with her, to the point of following her around like a
little puppy dog. I would find that annoying too.

God, I
hope she doesn’t get mad and tells Tara or Dale to shoot him. I don’t think
they’d kill anyone who was not a threat, not unless I ordered it. You see, they
told me after Oklahoma that since I was smart and in charge they would do
whatever I told them. This was extended to Briana, and both of us found the
revelation somewhat disquieting. Maybe they know we wouldn’t order them to do
something evil, or they might just have complete faith in our judgment and
ability to see the big picture and act accordingly. Still… I don’t know if I
want anyone trusting me to that extent. Anyway, while they probably wouldn’t
kill Tim, they were close enough to Mary and knew of my fondness for her that they
might beat him senseless.

I would
have to speak with the twins later and state that only I or Briana could issue
kill orders. That was something I needed to be very explicit about, and none of
this would be mentioned to anyone else. It was best to keep it under wraps.

What to
do with our new people? At least half were going north on the second trip with
Marcus and Lizzy. Getting workers up there would be beneficial. The others
could help around the castle. I wanted more patrols of the forest and someone
watching the highways. It wasn’t easy to reach us, and as long as we kept an
eye out, we should see anyone well in advance.

Interlude – Tim’s Story

We
learned about Tim’s experiences the day after my birthday – I’m not going to go
into any details on that, other than to say that my present from Briana was… Never
mind. Back to Tim. I have to say that he is quite possibly one of the luckiest
guys I’ve ever met, his entire family actually. They came through the initial
change better than me, and as you’ll all recall, I made it through those early
hours without a scratch and only a moderate modicum of stress. What they were
so incredibly fortunate about was that no one, and I do mean no one, on their
ranch died and reanimated. With a full quarter of the Earth’s population thus
afflicted, this was definitely against the odds, and we are talking twelve
people here.

*
* *

“Oh my
God!”

Tim woke
with a start and bolted from the room he shared with his younger brother,
finding his mother in the kitchen. She, along with his grandmother, had started
to make breakfast, but both women were now glued to a small television set
resting on the countertop. Like so many others, they liked to turn it on in the
mornings, but never to watch the news. No, they were huge fans of QVC. After
all, nothing is better than being able to shop while simultaneously making
flapjacks. And, surprisingly, that channel had preempted its very effective
promotion of consumerism with a news report.

“What is
it? What’s happening?”

Both turned
to stare at him.

“Go get
your father.”

“Get
everyone,” corrected his grandmother. “Wake everybody up and get them
downstairs. Tell your papa to fetch his rifle too.”

Tim
hurried to do as he told, but his father was already descending the staircase.

“Grandma
said to get your gun!” he blurted.

There
was a slight pause, possibly as long as two or three seconds. Then, without a
word, Alan Myers returned to his bedroom. He likely would have sought
clarification if the instructions had come from his wife. As much as he loved
her, Tim’s mother was easily startled and prone to panic attacks. Thank God
they lived out in the country where there were few distractions. The matriarch
of the family, on the other hand, was anything but. She was as down to earth,
practical, stubborn, and level headed as it got.

“What’s
going on?” asked Tim. With his father awake and the others beginning to stir,
the boy drifted into the living room where his grandmother was turning on the
big television, a sixty inch HD they’d bought after a recent spike in beef
prices. “Tell me.”

“Park
yourself in that chair and watch the news,” she ordered. “You don’t do anything
else, got that Tim?”

He
nodded.

“I mean
it. You have to be able to tell us what they’re saying in case we miss it. No
leaving or getting distracted.”

“I won’t
Grandma.”

She gave
him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning away, and Tim soon heard her
telling his mother to get back to work making breakfast. The broadcast had his
attention though, and Tim let the words around him vanish into the background.

*
* *

The
morning passed quickly. It had only taken a few minutes to confirm that no one
in the house had changed. Tim’s father and grandfather then headed over to the
trailer where the hired hands lived. A husband and wife team, the Ruizes were
longtime employees, and one of their sons had recently signed on full time as
well. All were considered family, and Tim was pleased to learn they were also
okay.

Tim’s
sister Carla, the oldest at sixteen, was put in charge of the little ones. She
was to keep them out of trouble while everyone else took care of the chores.
Tim didn’t need any babysitting but was considered too young to help, given the
circumstances, so he remained in front of the television watching the news
while the adults tended the livestock and made certain none of those things
were coming. Being a solid ten miles from the next house, they weren’t too
worried. Tim also had his mother’s laptop and was simultaneously checking the
news sites and blogs.

A result
of this strict dedication to his duties is that Tim just might be the best
informed person I know, in regards to the early news reports. Millions watched
them, myself included, but often lost power early on, meaning no more TV. The
Myers didn’t suffer this fate. They were off the grid, completely powered by
two large generators, one of which was tied to a windmill meeting most of their
needs by itself. It’s a nice system and something we’ll be looking into later.
They also have their own septic tank, well, and water tower. This means they
had, and still possess, functioning showers with hot water. Jealously.

The
television stations began to blink in and out after a while. Some vanished due
to blackouts. Others disappeared as the employees were overrun or fled. Fortunately,
the Myers had satellite and far more channels to choose from than most cable
subscribers, allowing Tim to find new sources of information. Unfortunately,
other than the basics, they didn’t learn much. They knew the zombies were
reanimated corpses and destroying the brain was the only way to kill them. They
also knew the world was fast collapsing with billions dead. It wasn’t until
near the end, right before the final stations went dark, that Tim heard of safe
zones being established. None of the listings were within a hundred miles of
the ranch.

*
* *

“Think
it’s one of them?” asked Mr. Myers.

“Not
sure,” replied his son, Alan.

They
were outside, in front of the house, staring down the long dirt road that led
back to the highway. For safety sake, it had been decided that someone should
sit on top of the barn at all times. It had a flat area off to one side that
was comfortable enough and provided a good view of the surrounding land. In
this case, it was Jorge Ruiz’s oldest son. He’d yelled the warning, and Tim had
followed the others outside.

“He’s
walking funny, like the ones on TV.”

His
father noticed his presence. “Get back inside with your mother!”

“I want
to see.”

“Let him
stay,” suggested the grandfather, “right here. The two of us will go take a
look.”

Tim was
left behind. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to cross either man. He
might be the oldest son in the family, and a teenager on top of that, but
neither would prevent his father from taking a belt to his backside if he
disobeyed. Still, he got to see his dad raise the rifle and shoot somebody in
the distance. There was a faint spray of blood out the back of a skull, and the
body fell. It was almost surreal, the way it crumpled to the ground.

*
* *

“Should
we join?”

Tim
wasn’t part of the conversation. He’d tried to participate, wanting to give his
opinions on the subject, but was discounted by the others. The boy instead
fiddled with the laptop, trying to get some sort of connection but failing each
time. Internet access had been through the same company that provided them with
satellite television. The actual, physical satellite was probably still
floating about in outer space, but that made no difference. Tim hadn’t gotten anything
since the middle of day four, nothing consistent since late on the third.

The
discussion going on a few feet to his left was about the refugee system. A
truck had appeared earlier that day, driven by a neighbor, if another rancher
living fifty miles to the northwest could be called such. He’d been approached
by some police officers who wanted to use the large ranches, those that still
had living people working them, as places to stick survivors. They’d managed to
get some folk out of the towns, and more had been found on the roads. The Myers
hadn’t seen anyone themselves, hadn’t even come across a second zombie, since
it began eight days earlier, but that was likely to change at some point.

“I don’t
know Dad. You think we’ll have any real choice about it?”

The old
man fingered the pistol holstered at his waist. “Those of us out here are
better armed than the townsfolk, even the state troopers. If they pushed there
would just be lots of dead people. Besides, no shortage of them are from our
families or married into them. No, it won’t come to that. The question is how
it will affect us. We can feed them, as long as they don’t mind eating beef,
and we have some crops, along with the gardens. Might be nice having people to
help with that. I’m not sure if we can get a combine. The co-op owned them, and
who knows what shape they’re in.”

“They
will be good,” said Jorge. “I’ll drive out with my boy tomorrow. We’ll get one
of the newer ones and bring it back so we have it here. We can share with the
other ranches.”

“That
would work,” agreed Tim’s father, thinking on it. “We only have the thirty
acres planted, most of the others less.”

“It
never was much of a money maker,” remarked Brent Myers, “but useful now. Okay,
you two can go get it. Swing out to the Morrisons first and let them know we’re
in. We can take, oh, fifteen people. They’ll be in the barn, but we can clean
out the upper level. It’ll only take a day or two. Plenty of room there.”

*
* *

Tim
spent the next few days getting things ready, doing most of the dirty work and
double checking the plumbing and wiring. A portion of the barn had been
renovated for use as an apartment years before. The original plan to hire more
people fell through, and it had since been used as storage. Once this was
completed to his grandmother’s exacting standards, Tim was assigned other
tasks. He split wood. He fed the horses. The lad also gutted more than one calf
or pig for an evening meal. Tim found the newcomers, all of whom were city
raised, getting sick at the sight of it pretty damn amusing. However, he didn’t
enjoy having to muck the stables as punishment for tossing intestines at
another boy nearly as much.

Only
four zombies appeared over the next few months. The Myers family was isolated,
another aspect of their exceptional luck. They were far from the major roads,
and there was a good chance the raiders would never find them. Brent Myers
didn’t discount the possibility though. That was why he sent Tim off with us.
Best to get at least one of the family away and situated. The boy could help
the others if, or when, they followed.