Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Conflict (5 page)

“We
hope,” corrected Briana.

“No, we
didn’t see anybody get away, and even if they did, they would have seen the
castle overrun and destroyed. Only people as nutty as us would have tried
staying after that. I think we’re safe enough, probably safer than if we were
running about elsewhere.”

“Yeah,
probably.”

We’d
discussed such matters previously, but that had been when we thought there was
only the single group of raiders. We never considered the possibility that
there might be more of them. Even so, I considered my logic sound.

“It’s
hard to travel with the snow,” offered Kenneth.

That was
true, and he’d done poorly in this regard. The man would be walking with a cane
for the remainder of his life, and while he could still hold a fork and write,
the loss of several fingers on each hand would make everyday activities
difficult and time consuming.

*
* *

The
final event of interest for the Christmas holiday season came during the night.
It’s not particularly relevant to anything that happened afterward, at least
not that I can see, but it was new and unexpected. Mary and I were on top of the
wall, well after the sun had set, taking a final look outside before turning
in.

“What’s
that?”

“What’s
what?” I asked.

Mary
extended an arm. “Over that way. Looks like a light.”

I saw
plenty of stars and what might have been Mars or Venus.

“I’m not
seeing anything.”

“It’s
moving.” She began to grow excited. “It’s coming toward us. I think it’s a
plane.”

Spotting
the craft a moment later, I found myself nodding. It was an aircraft of some
sort, and as it approached, I could make out the individual lights on the
wingtips. It was only a few thousand feet up, but there was no chance they’d
spot us, not with the castle blacked out. Nor was I certain if I wanted anyone
to know of our existence, not until I’d had a chance to check them out first.
Still, it was an indication that someone, someplace, was hanging on.

“Think
it’s military?”

“Not
sure Mary. That looked like a commercial plane, small one, but it might have
been used by them or the government, if anything remains of it.”

“It was
heading southeast. Not much that direction.”

“Just
Edwin back in Oklahoma.”

I
paused. It had been quite some time since I last thought of him and his tiny
group of survivors in Anadarko. Briana and I had met them during our trip
north, a few days after it all began. They’d been good people, but as close as
they were to Oklahoma City and the hordes of zombies that place would spawn, we
had decided it was best to keep moving.

“We need
to get a good radio, a really good one,” said Mary, “something we can use to
hear if anyone is broadcasting.”

“Add it
to the list.”

Interlude – Kenneth’s Story

Kenneth,
our unfortunate, troubled companion. What follows is his story, covering the
time between the start of the zombie uprising and our discovery of his half
frozen body on the side of the road. This man had suffered, and the only thing
that could have possibly been worse would’ve been if he accepted a double dog
dare and stuck his tongue to a frozen flagpole. Okay, that was somewhat inappropriate,
but I’m the author so deal with it.

Living
in Kansas when the change struck, Kenneth survived those early chaotic hours,
eventually reaching a police station accompanied by a few others, including
Barbara, his long time, cohabitating girlfriend.

“What
are we going to do?”

He shook
his head. “I don’t know. The officer said to wait here.”

They
were in a back room. There were no windows, and the single door was secured and
locked. Kenneth did not like being confined, but the police had been adamant.
They were going to keep the civilians safe and out of the way. If this was
unacceptable, those very same civilians could leave and go fend for themselves.
A handful of individuals chose this option.

“It’s
everywhere.” Barbara was staring at her cell phone. “The BBC says England and
London are a wreck, completely overrun. People are being told to stay inside
their homes.”

“Anything
about us here?” asked a woman.

“Let me
see. Same warnings on CNN, ABC. Nothing on NBC. I just get a page down message
on their site.”

“Where
are they out of? Atlanta?”

“No,”
replied Barbara, “that’s CNN. I’m not sure on NBC. New York, maybe? FOX News is
there, but they’re still broadcasting.”

There
was a series of gunshots outside, and Barbara flinched, pressing up against
Kenneth. “Do you think those things are attacking?” she whispered.

Before
he could answer, a second round was heard and the door creaked open.

“All
right folks, we are evacuating.”

“Where
are we going?”

Kenneth
couldn’t see the person who made the inquiry. It was someone in the far corner.

“Nebraska.
We’re moving north across the state line. There’s a training facility up there
for the state police, out in the country. That’s where we’re taking you.”

They
filed through the door, down the hall, and outside. Two officers stood nearby
holding shotguns. Around them were numerous zombies. Most were down, but one
was still twitching. Arms and legs had been shredded, and the torso hit several
times. The eyes, covered with a thick gray film, stared at the people around it
while the teeth clicked together.

“Is
that… Is it still alive?”

One of
the men regarded Kenneth and gave the slightest of shrugs. “Not alive mister
but still moving.” He stepped over to it, nudging the face with his boot. The
mouth immediately tried to bite through the thick leather. “Determined little
shit, isn’t it?”

“Keep
moving,” ordered the supervising officer. “Inside the bus and sit down.”

Kenneth
and Barbara entered and made their way past the driver and down the aisle. He
was sitting on top of plastic sheeting. The seat beneath was splattered with
blood.

“Hurry
on up! More are coming, and we need to go.”

Finding
a spot in the rear, they stared out the window as the tiny convoy started
moving. A single police car took point, followed by their bus and two more cars
in the rear. The one furthermost back stopped suddenly, the officer inside
rolling down the window and motioning for some kids to run over and join him.
They looked to be thirteen or fourteen, or something thereabouts. He got all
three into his back seat before speeding up to rejoin his fellows.

“How
many people do you think are being left behind?”

“I don’t
know Barbara. There are so many…” He closed his eyes. “So many walking around
the streets. I don’t think that many people could even reach us.”

“Some
might be trying to get to the police station like we did. They’ll find it
empty.”

“Not
empty ma’am.” One of the officers was standing at the very back of the bus. “We
have people staying behind. They have cars and can follow. In the meantime,
they’ll be tending the radio and loading up gear. If anyone else heads there,
we’ll take care of em.”

*
* *

They
spent the afternoon and evening in an unfurnished cabin. It was uncomfortable
and musty, but secure. Additional refugees joined them, along with more law
enforcement officials from a variety of departments and towns. They’d also
received news of safe zones being established by the military with more to
come, but none were within easy reach. There were plenty of guns however, and
no shortage of volunteers who knew how to use them. Patrols and watches were
quickly established. The biggest problem was food. Calls had gone out on the
radio, and a trucker was apparently en route with a load of stuff originally
destined for a grocery store. Unfortunately, it would be the next day before he
arrived, at best. Until then they would have to do without.

*
* *

“Okay,”
began a man in uniform, one Kenneth had not seen previously, “here’s what’s
happening. The world is a wreck. This hit everywhere and all at once. The
cities seem to be the worst off, so we are not going anywhere near one. The
official orders are to evacuate them whenever possible. Small towns seem to be
doing better. No grumbling. I know most of you came from such places that were
falling apart with plenty, if not most, dead. Understand, from what I’m
hearing, the big cities are far, far worse.”

The
muttering died down as that sunk in.

“We have
several more groups heading this way, and we’re in communication with others.
As soon as I got any more news or find out what’s going to happen, I’ll let all
of you know.”

“How
many are dead?” asked a man.

The
speaker hesitated. “We don’t know, but it’s at least in the tens of millions,
for the United States. This number is going up too, and it’ll get a whole lot
higher before this is over.”

*
* *

They
remained at the Nebraska state police training ground for nearly a week. During
that time, their numbers increased significantly, some brought by rescue
personnel, others wandering in on their own. The stories they told were
horrific, and it quickly became clear that the death toll was, or soon would
be, nearly the entirety of the population.

After it
was learned that bites were fatal, and that those who died from the infection would
return as a zombie seven minutes later, a new policy was instituted. All
newcomers had to undergo a strip search so a nurse could check for injuries.
Additionally, anyone who fell sick, particularly if the symptoms mirrored those
they’d heard about, was placed into quarantine. It was frustrating, often
demeaning, and no one voiced a complaint.

Yet, for
all their efforts, it was clear they could not remain. The area was secure, but
it had never been intended to house anyone. The facilities were limited, and tempers
were flaring as the handful of buildings became more and more cramped.
Something needed to be done. Kenneth had no say in this matter, nor any input.
The various law enforcement agencies that had come together were in charge.

*
* *

“We’re
going to start moving people out of here tomorrow. You two are going in the
first batch. We expect everyone to be gone in a couple of, maybe three, days.”

“Where
to?” asked Barbara. She gripped Kenneth’s hand tightly.

“Wyoming.
There are plenty of large ranches on the plains, and most are still running.
Not sure how so many got through without losing everyone the way the towns did,
but in most cases at least a few family members are still alive, along with
hands and others living nearby.”

“Is it
safe there?” That was what Kenneth really wanted to know.

The
woman sat down on the floor beside them – there were no chairs. “Safer than
here. There’ll be fewer people in each group, and you won’t have any of us with
you. Don’t let that worry you. The ranches are all getting extra guns, and they
are very, very isolated, generally miles apart from one another. You’ll be able
to defend yourselves if any of the zomheads show up.”

“What
will you and the other police be doing?” he asked.

“Can’t
really say.” She offered an apologetic shrug. “We’re still driving around
trying to find survivors, but we haven’t had much luck. The towns are a mess,
and we haven’t been going in if we can help it – lost too many doing that. I
had a damn fool captain… Anyway, the two of you are among the lucky.”

Kenneth
nodded slowly. He didn’t feel particularly fortunate, although he knew that the
fact they’d escaped so early and were being guarded by trained professionals
was a miracle in and of itself.

*
* *

“Our new
home,” whispered Barbara.

The
ranch was vast, and it took nearly forty minutes to traverse the long drive
between the gate and house. Granted, the dirt road was rough and winding,
forcing them to move slowly, but even so, the place was simply huge. On the
other hand, there wasn’t much in the way of structures. All they saw was the
homestead, a single barn, and the stables.

“How can
a place this big have just the one house?” inquired Kenneth. “They would have
to have more people to run it.”

“Lots
more,” replied the van’s driver. “Old man Ellis – don’t call him that to his
face, if you want to avoid a tongue lashing – lives here and does all the
financials. The actual ranching is handled by his sons and a whole bunch of
employees. Most of them live out a ways, some in trailers, others in regular
houses. It’s all spread out.”

“We’ll
be staying here or there?”

“All
here ma’am. Ellis wanted some people to tend his horses, or so I heard. I’m not
really sure on that, but the seven of you are definitely going here. More are
being taken to the other houses I was talking about. You should be comfortable
enough. There’s plenty of room. I’ve lived on this ranch all my life – dad
works the cattle – and I’ve been in and out of the main house many times.”

“What do
you think?” asked Barbara.

“Looks
nice enough,” replied Kenneth. “You can see any zombies approaching, as flat
and open as it is around here. It would take them hours to get to us too, from
the highway.”

“All the
roads will be covered by several feet of snow in the winter,” commented the
driver. “Sometimes get mud in the spring too, the unpaved ones. It’s outright
impassible for several months each year.”

“How do
the people get around then?” Barbara looked at her boyfriend who shrugged.

“Got
snowmobiles in the barn, most of the ranchers do. Plenty of specialized pickups
and trucks too. Don’t worry. Those of us living out here know what we’re
doing.”

*
* *

The
first few months passed by quickly. Barbara was assigned to work in the kitchen
preparing food and washing up, also canning vegetables from the gardens and
smoking meat brought in by hunters or from slaughtered livestock. There was a
single attempt to teach her how to butcher a pig, but Barbara’s stomach wasn’t
quite up to it. She’d gotten a lot of ribbing from the other women, with some
children adding to the good natured abuse.

Kenneth,
having been a clerk at Best Buy and lacking any useful skills, was employed as
manual labor. Most of his time was spent mucking out stables, brushing horses,
oiling the gear, and so forth. It was hard, tiring, but strangely fulfilling.
Additionally, he was learning all sorts of new things. Some of the long time
ranch hands even said they’d be moving him up to range work come the following
year.

It was
in November, shortly before Thanksgiving, that it all came apart. The people
had decided to take a break and celebrate their good fortune. A calf was
roasted, several cases of beer broken out, and a long night of drinking and
partying commenced. Eventually, Kenneth and Barbara headed to their room to
sleep it off, whereas the less fortunate went outside to begin their shifts.
What happened next might have been caused by an intoxicated individual, or
possibly it was a simple, random accident. There was no way to know.

A
massive explosion threw Kenneth out of bed. He woke just prior to hitting the
floor, which did nothing to lessen the impact. Wincing, he lifted his head and
tried to find Barbara in the darkness, but the building suddenly and violently
shifted. Panicking, he clambered to his feet.

“Barbara!
Are you okay?”

He was
answered by pained coughing. “There’s something on my legs.”