Z-Risen (Book 2): Outcasts (16 page)

Entry #18 - Land of the Free

11:30 hours approximate

Location: Trailer Park - Undead Central

We didn’t stay for just one day. We stayed for a few.

I dug out one of the shirts Anna had found at the apartment and went to town with some duct tape, covering my arms. I applied it liberally but left space for my elbow so I could bend my arm without difficulty.

“Very fashionable,” Anna observed.

She sat on the side of the bed dressed only in panties and bra, looking hot as hell. Sadly, she slid into more clothing. I watched her dress and she watched me back. We didn’t speak but I was getting used to that. She had her demons and there wasn’t a lot I could do about it except to be there for her. Sounds useless, but it was all she wanted. She told me a little bit about PTSD while we lay together the night before and it sounded horrible. Then it dawned on me that we were probably all suffering from the same thing. She asked me to be patient with her and I promised that I would.

“Look, Anna,” I said. I took her hand in mine and just held it for a minute. “I’m not under any delusions here. I know we’re a mess, but we’re here for each other, right?”

“Yeah. We’re here for each other. Fucking hell, Creed. If you go out there and try to collect flowers for me I’m going to be really disappointed,” she said.

“You don’t have to be a
hardass all the time.”

“I’m not a
hardass. I’m just me.”

“Fine. I’ll go find some nice weeds for you.”

Anna kicked at me with one slim foot but I sidestepped it and tugged her off the bed and into an embrace. I could get used to this. Anna might be a time bomb. She might be a hardass. But there was a lot to like about her.

I wondered how hard the new world was planning to work against us.

###

12:05 hours approximate

Location: Trailer Park - Undead Central

The folks that made up the little camp came from varied backgrounds. Most were senior citizens. We’d met a dozen the first night. By the next day a third of them had drifted away. Safety in numbers was Claude’s credo, but some argued that they were better on the move. Campers left at night, and besides the puttering of motors, we didn’t hear another sound out of them as they faded up the road.

Claude was a natural-born leader and wasn’t shy about getting the people to work together. He’d organize groups of three or four and have them outside for a few minutes, gathering supplies from abandoned RV’s, or collecting water.

Joel and I ignored the politics and worked during the day to go out on patrol, shore up the fence, and put a better lock on the gate. They’d used a piece of twelve gauge wire to loop a couple of links together, but I found a chain that might have been used to hold the gate closed in the past. Someone had cut it cleanly. I dug out a couple of pairs of pliers and worked at the links until I had a half-ass lock. It performed by someone sticking a screwdriver into a pair of links and using the smaller wire to keep the length of metal in place. It wouldn’t keep out a determined intruder, but it would keep a Z out.

The gate was made of chain link and was eight feet tall. Z’s occasionally gathered, so we taunted and bribed them with our bodies until they followed us near the gate. Then Joel, Anna, Roz, and I went out and killed them.

Roz was in good spirits and stuck to Christy like they were sisters.

“How’s the leg, Jackson?” Roz asked.

“Ankle. Still hurts but I’ve had some good care.” I lifted my pant leg and showed off a bandage that wrapped around my calf and down into my boot.

“Good care, huh? You and Anna seem to be pretty friendly.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Friendly.”

“You two make a good couple. You’re kind of a mess and she’s kind of a badass.”

“That’s what I like about her.” I smiled.

I didn’t ask about her and Joel. This wasn’t high school and, frankly, it was none of my damn business.

Christy spent a few minutes running Frosty ragged before ducking back into the RV with the wet dog in tow.
Frosty followed, tail wagging. True to the camp’s rules, they stayed out of sight as much as possible.

The weather sucked. Rain fell in a light mist that got heavier as the day wore on. Joel and I rigged up some tarps over a pair of RV’s to capture the water. Claude pointed me toward some old PVC tubing. I ran it into Joel’s temporary home.

Christy was interested in what I was doing, so I showed her how to make a basic water filter.

“Rain water’s clean, but if you ever need to drink water and you don’t know if it’s safe, just make a filter. The best way is if you have charcoal,” I told her.

We requisitioned an empty two-liter bottle. I cut the bottom off and then cut some fabric into strips. Christy and I went out near the pond and dug down until we found a little bit of sand. She gathered a few handfuls while I loaded up on pebbles.

“We’re going to make clean water with dirt?” she asked.

Christy wore a long red dress with black tights. She had a light windbreaker on. Her hair was drenched in minutes.

“Yep. You can go back if you’re cold,” I said.

“I’m fine. I want to learn this.”

She and I dug out enough sand and little rocks to complete my project. The rain picked
up, so we hightailed it back to the camper with our treasures.

Back in the big RV, we laid our collection in neat little piles on the counter. Belle ‘
tsked’ at the mess, but I promised her that Christy would clean up after we were done. Christy shot me daggers, but I stuck my tongue out and she smiled back.

Belle, Anna, Roz, and Joel had all escaped the rain and were sitting inside the RV. They laughed as they played high-stakes poker for millions of dollars. Christy glanced at the game, but was more interested in what we were doing.

We filled the filter with five layers: pebbles, sand, crushed charcoal from a fire, sand, and more pebbles. The little strips of old bedding we’d converted into strips separated each layer.

“Why all the sand?” Christy asked.

“The little rocks and sand filter out dirt and particles. The charcoal gets any chemicals out. By the time it passes through, the water is safe to drink.”

I used more strips of cloth to attach one end of the filter to the tarps,
then I dragged the other end of the PVC tube into the RV. I untied the knotted end and watched as the first few drops fell out of the tube and into the sink.

“Get a cup.”

Christy grabbed a coffee mug off the counter and held it out.

I tasted the next few drops, smacked my lips together, and then motioned for Christy to try. She filled her mug halfway to the top and then took a sip.

“Tastes weird, like it’s got wood in it or something.”

“Probably the charcoal. If you want to filter rainwater, all you really have to use is a coffee filter. Duh,” I said.

“Jackson, you jerk.” Christy laughed.

“And it falls from the sky. Just stand outside with your mouth open. If you stand there long enough, you’ll get a full belly of water. Plus, you’d look like a crazy girl. The Z’s might just leave you alone.”

Christy giggled as I tossed my head back and opened my mouth wide and stuck out my tongue.

“Is that what he did to impress you?” Roz asked Anna.

“Something like that. The tongue part is good,” she said, then her face went scarlet.

Roz sat back hard in her chair and laughed.

I ignored them.

“Mad person disease, that’s what Z’s call it when they don’t want to eat someone,” I said.

“What makes the person mad?” Christy asked.

“When they can’t build a good filter, I guess.”

“I won’t get the disease, then.”

“Just remember this filter in an emergency.”

“I will. I’ll write it down. I write down all the survival stuff I learn.”

“Learn how to shoot straight yet?”

“Joel showed me but I haven’t actually fired a gun since the hospital,” she said.

“Anna’s an ace shot. You should ask her to teach you.”

Christy glanced up at Anna and then looked away quickly.

“Joel’s fine,” she said under her breath.

After the last few days I’d come around on Anna, but my change of heart hadn’t spread.

“Just something to think about,” I said lamely.

“Do you like my dress? Belle said it was her daughter’s. It’s a little big but the color’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Of course it looks good on you, dude. I’ll have to start calling you princess.”

We joked around for a few minutes and then talked about video games while the poker match went on. After Joel was in the hole for a half a billion dollars he called it a game and asked if I’d make a quick perimeter run with him.

Roz stood as he made for the door and said something close to his ear. Joel shot her a quick smile and whispered something back. I looked at Joel but his face didn’t betray anything. Whatever those two were up to wasn’t my business.

It was time to get to work.

###

13:30 hours approximate

Location: Not-sure-where, CA - Undead Central

We set out on patrol, leaving the confines of the little trailer park. We ranged a mile out and then circled around, avoiding the highway and its dangers. We found a small town, much like Clairemont, but without map or GPS we couldn’t determine the name.

A pack of Z’s wandered the streets. We perched behind a bunch of shrubs and waited them out. Neither of us moved until the group was well away from us, then we rose and hustled to a shattered storefront. The shelves were bare of anything useful, so we exited through the back door.

We passed a pair of bodies. Both had been placed on the ground with the back of their heads caved in. A crow bar lay next to them, the curved end covered in blood and matted hair. It was possible that the pair had been Z’s, but I suspected they’d instead been shop owners and had put up a fight when looters arrived.

Joel considered the bodies but didn’t say a word.

“What’s up with your tactical gear?” I asked.

“I added plates after our last encounter. Getting shot at wasn’t my idea of a good time.”

“Plates?”

“Ceramic. They’re light, but break up if a round hits them.”

“Where in the hell did you find plates?”

“Did some digging around in the supplies in the camp. They have a communal drop off for goods. Turns out someone’s kid was in the military and saw action. These were packed away in a box. They aren’t a perfect fit but I made them work.”

“What about me, Joel? Shouldn’t I wear something like that?” I asked.

“Sure, man. If you can find them.”

“Well, shit. What’s the alternative?” Joel had worn his IMTV tactical gear since we’d been on the USS
McClusky. I’d worn one messy bunch of clothes after another.

“Don’t get shot.” Joel winked at me.

We moved to another storefront and found it empty save for bodies. In this case it was easy to make out the features of the dead. They’d been Z’s, but now they were just moldering corpses.

Another horde wandered in our direction so we took care to stay hidden. A shot rang out from somewhere and one of the Z’s dropped. Joel and I ducked behind a countertop and watched.

The men came into the streets from the north. They were dressed in leather and carried bottles of alcohol. They bore automatic weapons and seemed to take great pleasure in gunning down the horde.

One of the men stepped out of a building and I knew him right away. It was
McQuinn.

“Son of a bitch,” I whispered to Joel.

He nodded but didn’t do anything stupid. If I had his gun I probably would have picked McQuinn off—or at least tried to. I was under no delusions that I could even hit the building, let alone a single figure.

“I hope he doesn’t find the camp. Dammit. We should warn our new friends,” Joel said.

“They aren’t exactly hidden. If McQuinn’s men do any further exploring, they’re likely to find the camp.”

Joel chewed on that for a minute and then moved. He kept low, peeked out of the back, and
gestured. I followed him across a street and we slipped into the woods.

###

14:45 hours approximate

Location: Trailer Park - Undead Central

Arguing with Claude was useless. We tried to impress on him the fact that McQuinn was a threat.

“But what can we do except to hide? If we leave they may hear the noise of the campers,” he said. I’d noticed that when Claude spoke in a rush, his speech took on a thicker accent.

“You got no choice, man,” I said.

“We do have a choice. Besides, we are reasonable people. Maybe they will be reasonable with us.”

“That shit didn’t work out too well for us,” Joel said.

Claude shrugged and left us. He moved back to his RV and shut the door quietly behind him.

“We should pack it in.”

“Yeah. I’m down with that. Been thinking about that abandoned RV back there. No one investigated because they thought there was a Z inside.” Joel pointed toward the back of the camp. The vehicle would have looked old a decade ago.

“What about it?”

“Could be it’s full of food. If we don’t check it out before we go, we might regret it later.”

“Ah hell, Joel. I hate it when you make sense.”

“So you’re going to go with me?”

“Just because I don’t want to get shot at anymore doesn’t mean I want to be a fucking Marine with you and your pals at Pendleton,” I said.

“Yeah, but think how great it would be, man. Going from squid to badass.”

“Because that’s what I want out of life,” I said sarcastically.

“
Yer goddamn right,” Joel said. He clapped me on the shoulder and moved out.

I stood in the drizzling rain for all of a half-minute before sighing loudly and following. Quick check, get any goods, and then haul ass out of here. I was game.

###