Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict (22 page)

Chapter VII

Constructing
the wood palisade turned out to be surprisingly quick and easy. In fact, it
took longer to select the trees we’d be felling than it did to strip off the
branches, drag them to the spot, and stick the things in the ground. You see,
there was to be no clear cutting. The meadow was sufficient for our needs, so
there was no reason to expand it. Nor did we want to create any situations
where there might be runoff or erosion, not to mention providing evidence to
anyone passing by that people were living in the area. Also, we required timber
of a uniform thickness, and face it, such trees are not going to be growing
next to one another in a convenient clump.

The
platform that was to run along the top proved more difficult. We planted
additional poles along the inside perimeter, and then created a network of
crisscrossing two by fours. This was used to support a floor of ordinary fence
slats held in place with roofing nails. It was sturdy enough to hold the weight
of the average adult, although I wouldn’t recommend jumping up and down, and it
would suffice for the time being. We could strengthen it later.

The
inside was cramped, between the tents lined up on one side and a pile of
building materials opposite, but work had begun on the cabins, which more than
made up for the inconvenience. Each unit would have two small rooms and be
built so the back wall was part of our exterior palisade. Furthermore, the
sides were to be shared. Think row houses and you’ll be able to picture this in
your mind. By the way, the support poles for the walkway above were positioned
so they would be part of the cabin walls and not take up any valuable living
space.

Based on
the size of the rectangular enclosure, we could fit ten cabins on each of the
longer walls and another ten on the shorter ones without obstructing the gate.
With thirty cabins total we should be good for quite a while. And, as with the
castle itself, there would be two sets of latrines and another bathhouse. You
can never have too many toilets, and maintaining personal hygiene was important
if we were to avoid disease.

While
the cabins should be solid, they would likely also be drafty, cold, and
uncomfortable. That being the case, there was an ongoing discussion on ways to
improve them, such as adding insulation or plastering the interior walls. I’m
not really sure how that will turn out in the end, but we have plenty of time
to work on the details.

*
* *

“Explain
the name Asher, one more time.”

“Lizzy,
come on already. You’ve been told we picked it because it’s Biblical and we
both like it.” I tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. The last thing I needed
was to adopt one of Briana’s bad habits.

“Are you
sure? When was the last time you looked in a Bible? Do you even own one?”

“If
Briana knew you were going on about this, she’d slap you.”

A snort.
“She’s with the brat back at the castle, and you won’t be telling her.”

“I just
might… You’re talking about Mary, right?”

“Please,
like I call anyone else that. Stop thinking bad things about me and catch a
damn fish already.”

We were
at the creek that flowed behind the castle attempting, with little success, to
hook some trout. Briana had decided she wanted something fresh for dinner in
order to replenish her protein and vitamins or some such thing. I wasn’t really
sure, having tuned most of it out. I had my orders. The reasons behind them
were of little consequence.

“How can
she eat this stuff,” continued Lizzy. “All slimy and nasty.”

“Not
slimy after it’s gutted and cooked.”

“That’s
just as disgusting. At least she’s not craving ice cream.”

I felt a
twinge in my gut. It had been a long time since I had any. Damn it. Why did
Lizzy have to go and remind me?

“Think
Steph could make some, come winter when we have ice and snow again?” she asked.
“Or maybe a little batch if we use the freezers? My mom tried a homemade recipe
once. It wasn’t great, but still better than nothing.”

“Maybe
she could do that.” I had no idea what was involved. “We might find directions
in one of the cookbooks we have.”

“We’ll
make Mary search through those.” Lizzy let out a short laugh.

The
books in question had been taken from stores in Chadron and the numerous homes
we’d looted over the prior months. Steph had a few in the kitchen, but most
were sitting inside an old church van parked off to one side of the meadow. We
literally had hundreds upon hundreds of cookbooks, most of which were of little
value and would likely rot away before anyone did more than glance through
them.

“Are you
sure you didn’t select Asher from
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor
Dreamcoat
, instead of the Bible?”

“You’re
familiar with the show?”

She
nodded. “Saw it in a theater back in Kansas, local production, with Mary and
Lois, year before last.”

“Lois
did have good taste.”

Lizzy
shot me a nasty look. “It might have been my idea. Didn’t you think about
that?”

I shook
my head, trying not to laugh. “Not a chance.”

“I
fucking hate you.”

“No, you
don’t. You love me, and we both know it. But, yeah, it was the show that
brought the name to our attention in the first place. Not my favorite Broadway
musical – that would be
Phantom
with
Les Mis
following close
behind – but still a fun one to watch.”

She
whipped her rod to the side, dropping the fly upstream. “Probably won’t find
anyone else named Asher. That’s always good. I hate saying Jennifer or Michelle
or fucking whatever and getting a ‘which one’ back.”

“Not too
much of a problem anymore, not really, not with so many dead and so few here.”

Such a
depressing thought.

“Might
still come up,” she replied. “Good that you’re married too.”

“For the
last time Lizzy...” I could feel the frustration rising but tried to restrain
myself. “...Briana and I are not married.”

A second
snort, louder this time. “Briana waited one whole day after the baby popped out
before saying she isn’t Briana Mills anymore. She’s now Briana Thornton. Face
it Jacob, you are married, with a ceremony to follow if you ever get off your
ass and do something about that.”

I felt a
slight tug on the line, but it turned to be nothing but a nibble.

“I got
an earful last night on that very subject. We’ll be visiting Wyoming sometime
soon to deal with the situation. Not sure when exactly, since Briana can’t
really travel right now, but it shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“They
have a pastor?”

“Harlan
said so. There aren’t any Catholic priests, but there’s a Russian Orthodox one
over in Yellowstone. That’s who’ll we’ll ask.” I gave her a stern look. “No
telling anyone about this, including Mary. Briana wanted to let her friends
know personally, once she’s ready. Heaven only knows when that might be.”

She
smiled wryly. “I think I can keep quiet.”

I should
have kept my mouth shut.

“Harlan
tell you anything else?”

“Nothing
new,” I replied.

“Well,
he better get us something good, or he won’t be using that radio to avoid real
work for much longer.”

“I don’t
think that threat’s going to work Lizzy.”

The man
spent nearly every waking moment in the kitchen, parked in front of the
transmitter. While information came and went on a regular basis, most of the
time there was nothing but silence, making the task exceedingly dull. Harlan
had taught others to use the device but few ever volunteered to take his
position, not for more than an hour to two.

An
interesting point about the placement of the equipment is that it made Steph
the second most knowledgeable person in the castle. She was also spending a
disproportionate amount of time in the kitchen, delegating responsibility for
the livestock to others. I’m not sure if it’s from a desire to be with Harlan –
the two seemed to be getting along quite well – or because she wanted a
firsthand account of what was happening elsewhere.

As to
that, Wyoming was largely the same with nothing significant developing. Salt
Lake City, on the other hand, was a mess, far more screwed up than before. The
Mormon Temple had fallen. None of us saw that coming. Early on, they’d secured
it and built a wall surrounding the entire structure. Using helicopters to go
back and forth, this was a staging ground for the defenders in their efforts to
clear the city of zombies.

It was
the raiders who caused the trouble. They barreled down the street early one
morning on their motorcycles. When the men and women stationed at the temple
opened fire, the attackers quickly withdrew. It was a feint, intended to draw
attention away from the section they’d actually targeted. A van drove straight
for it, with the driver leaping out at the last moment. The man, so very
unfortunately, managed to get clear before it detonated. The vehicle had been packed
with explosives, enough to shatter the wall and send debris flying in all
directions. The temple itself suffered some minor damage, but nothing that
threatened its structural integrity.

The
noise also brought every last zombie in the area down on the defenders. They
lost a few who were absolutely determined to keep the walking dead from
defiling the holy place, but the majority chose to withdraw. Here’s the thing
though. The eighty or so who tried to drive off were ambushed by the raiders.
It wasn’t a perfect attack, but they managed to get in front of the convoy and
opened fire when they came in sight. Tires and engine blocks were targeted,
along with the people. This drew more of the shambling menace, and the raiders
again drove off. Forced to travel on foot, only a handful of the defenders made
it out in the end. Those lucky few managed to reach a rooftop and hold their
position until a helicopter arrived.

In
addition to this brazen attack, the raiders were continuously striking every
outlying group and outpost they found. Farms were going up in smoke, one after
another, and the people of Salt Lake City were forced to consolidate more and
more in an effort to keep everyone safe. This had the unintended consequence of
starting, or at least aiding in the spread of, a pandemic.

Not much
was known about the plague. It was possibly a form of influenza. The details
provided were sketchy, so I can’t even begin to say, but the symptoms were
definitely flu-like in nature. However, it had an unusually high mortality
rate. The numbers dying were in the hundreds with several thousand verified as
sick. It was bad enough that bodies were being burned in huge pyres, both as a
way to dispose of them and in an attempt to prevent further contamination.

This
isn’t to say that everything was in favor of the prophet’s sociopathic cronies.
The defenders had killed plenty of the enemy, but they were largely reacting to
attacks. Attempts to discover where the gang was based had come to nothing, and
that is with the ability to scout from above using helicopters and small
planes. Worse, the raiders were well armed and had managed to shoot one chopper
down. The pilots, all of them civilians who had never served a day in uniform,
were now skittish and tended to keep their distance, more so than was required.

“What
are you going to do about the request?” asked Lizzy.

“I’m
sending you to get them.”

“Me? Why
not Marcus or Laura?” She finally hooked a fish and began to reel it in. “About
fucking time. Can we go now?”

“It’s
kinda small. We should get another, just to be on the safe side.”

“Worried
Briana will withhold her affections.” The short, plump woman was smirking.

“Lizzy,
she just had a baby. Briana’s hurting far too much to be affectionate.”

“That’s…
Actually, I can see that. She was screaming for several hours. It had to suck.
I… Forget it. Anyway, you’re trusting me to be in charge of stuff again? Think
I’ll keep my mouth shut? Not piss everyone off? Like that would ever happen.”

A second
nibble on the line.

“No. You
get to go because you won’t mess up the entire travel thing. Take the twins and
another pair so there are two cars going. I’ll have Harlan give them the news
tomorrow and let them know you’ll be meeting at the fire station. It’s the
closest spot, and you already know how to get there.”

The day
before, we received an unexpected request from the Ranching Collective, enough
so that I said I needed time to talk it over with the others and figure out any
logistical issues which might arise. Being in charge, I got to make the final
decision, but it appeared there was near unanimous approval. It might even
start a mutiny if I went against the group’s wishes, unless I provided a very
clear and compelling reason.

We had
been asked to take in more people. While the Wyoming system was perfectly
capable of providing sufficient housing and food for everyone, the trouble in
Utah had a lot of them worried. This resulted in two things. First, a large
group was assembled and sent south to keep an eye on the area and maybe provide
assistance. They were not supposed to join the fighting – a militia was being
formed for that express purpose. Second was for people to either move or, more
often, send their families elsewhere. This was the portion directed at us.