Authors: Brian P. White
WRECKAGE
Sean raced through the compound to find Paula, praying to God she was safe. The Day Shift Bay was empty, and the tunnel door was locked. He prayed she wasn’t trapped down there with all those children. Assembly was empty, too. So were the School Room, the little salon where Clarissa gave her a haircut, and all the other places he ran through. After hearing about some of those crazy guys getting into the walls, he feared one of them might have snatched his wife.
The Lounge was dim and flooded just past the sole of his shoe. He stared with dread at the tunnel entrance from where the water poured, praying she wasn’t still down there.
Rumbling behind him startled him. He rushed for the nearest hiding place, just in case.
Craig and Isaac entered, wrangling a skinny redheaded girl in with them.
“Oh, thank God,” Sean said when he emerged from behind the counter and approached them. “Have either of you seen Paula?”
Craig jerked his head backward. “She’s out there with the kids. Have you seen Didi?”
Water spilled behind Sean. He turned to find a drenched zombie bearing down on him from the tunnel. He fell back, splashing on the floor. The thing fell right on top of him and—
Isaac shot it in the head. The thing wasn't alone, but he took down its buddies as quickly as the first.
Sean tossed the corpse off of him and stood up. “Thanks,” he told Isaac, then nodded toward the girl. “Who’s this?”
Isaac sneered at the girl. “That’s Cynthia, one of Kenny’s li’l bitches.”
“The Pride of Life will get its due,” the girl shouted like a cartoon Chihuahua.
Isaac looked like he was about to slap her, but waved her off and pulled a small vial full of a dark liquid from his chest pocket. “How would you like a drink?”
“What is—look out!” Sean shouted as another zombie emerged from the dark water.
Isaac tried to shoot it, but clicked empty. He handed the vial off to Sean, stomped off the leg of a nearby chair, and rushed the dead thing with it. As he swung down on its head, a sword broke the water's surface, blocked the makeshift club, and swung it away. He backed up as the thing stepped into the dim light.
Sean couldn't believe his eyes.
With all her make-up washed away, Didi resembled the worst version of the Bride of Frankenstein. Sewn scars stretched across her face and down through her choker, each patch of her skin a different shade of sickly gray. She looked like an old porcelain doll broken and repaired several times over; like a real Death Doll.
Isaac fumbled an apology until Didi flashed a hand up to his face. She re-sheathed her sword and approached the skinny redhead, who recoiled in terror. “Have a little fun downstairs?” she asked, her voice as dark as her glare. Sean’s hackles stood on end from the sound of her speaking through that deathly mask. It was surreal. “The turbine’s all over the place, as are all of the boneheads I ran into. We shouldn’t see too many more.”
Isaac seized Cynthia’s jaw. “What’d you do?”
The petrified teen didn’t say a word. She just ogled Didi.
The big man uncorked the vial and placed the open end near her mouth. “If you don’t talk, you’re gonna drink this.”
Cynthia glanced between Didi and the vial. “I just let your buddies out.”
Craig cursed. “I knew I should’ve made an independent coolant system.”
“Huh?” Isaac said.
“When the wheel stopped, so did the coolant system on the cistern, which made the heater flash-boil all the water and blow the pipes. We’ll never get it fixed before the first blizzard hits.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Didi said. “All the water’s contaminated. This place is ruined.”
Sean’s gut churned at the sight of the waterlogged floor. “Does that mean we’re infected now?”
Isaac yanked Cynthia’s hair and placed the vial close to her mouth again. “I should make you drink this shit anyway.”
“What is that?” Didi asked the big man, who handed her the vial. She curiously glanced it over, put her tongue to it, waited, and glared at the redhead with cold malice. “Get everyone in front of the Clinic, and make sure they all see her.”
Isaac and Craig dragged the mortified girl away.
“What’s in that?” Sean asked, but Didi was already on her way out. He followed, somewhere between curious and scared of whatever it was that pissed off Didi more than what happened to the camp.
*****
The trucks returned, and Kenny marched toward the R.V. with a purpose.
Pat couldn’t wait to hear what Kenny had to say about the raid on the porn star’s villa. After losing Gary, Blanche, Jason, Steve, and Tory to that creepy bitch, he hoped to hear twice as many of those sons of bitches paid for it.
Kenny burst through the door, marched up to his bar, and slammed his fist on the counter. Then, he fixed himself a shot of Wild Turkey, huffing to keep himself calm. “We lost twenty-eight. Hell, I barely got away myself. This Death Doll’s stronger than I thought, but I am gonna tear that bitch apart.”
Pat grabbed a rag, soaked it with some of the cheap hooch, and patted the cuts on Kenny’s shoulder. “Is Cynthia with you?”
Kenny shook his head and glared at the mirror ahead of him, his nostrils flaring.
“Well, you know her. She wants you so bad, she’ll die before disappointing you.”
Kenny nodded curtly and downed his shot of bourbon.
“When do we go back?”
Kenny glared back at Pat. “When do you think? Marshal the troops.”
Pat nodded happily, then presented Kenny his sword.
*****
“We have to run,” Clarissa shouted.
The camp agreed but quickly got quiet to hear Didi’s reply. On the other hand, those blurry faces could’ve all been staring at her face; her
true
face. Down to the wire and drenched from head to toe, she hadn’t reapplied her make-up. She didn’t have time to make them feel better. “You’re right,” she said, then hiked her thumb at the redheaded saboteuse restrained by Craig and Isaac next to the Clinic. “Thanks to Toothpick, here, all the water is infected. We can’t stay here anymore.”
“The Pride of Life will get its due,” Cynthia shouted. “No one’s more worthy than us!”
“I should eat you,” Didi said, making the little jerk shrink with dread.
“Go ahead,” Clarissa said, backed by most of the group. Some were still squeamish, but all regarded the kid with outrage.
“Thanks, but no. I won’t be the monster these people are,” Didi said when the crowd got quiet. She removed the vial from her pocket and showed it to everyone. “Want to guess what this is? It’s zombie blood. Their spies don’t just tally loot. They infect someone with the plague and wait for everyone to die off. That and the guys we took out
guarantee
they’ll be back.”
The camp’s murmurs ranged from defensive to terrified. Didi still battled her own fear for Cody’s health, but she needed to press on for the good of the camp.
“We need to pack up everything we’re taking; food, medicine, weapons, the works.”
“How will we get out of here?” Ron asked. “We don’t have any cars, do we?”
Didi grinned. “We do.”
*****
Pat lit the bonfire and watched Kenny with the same reverence as everyone else.
Kenny uttered the names of the dead and a good thing about each one of them—all without a scrap of paper to read from. He knew everyone he ruled; that was his way. No king in history could ever claim that. After calling the last name, he said, “Since our ancestors founded this country, we’ve been its heirs. We live by a simple code: family, honor, strength. Society died because they failed to live by these ideals. Today, our brothers and sisters were murdered trying to live up to these ideals. Well, we ain’t gonna let that stand, are we?”
The crowd cheered their agreement.
Kenny smiled. “We will not fall to these selfish hoarders. The Pride of Life will
never
be denied what is rightfully ours.”
Everyone loudly agreed.
“Bring him out,” Kenny ordered, which made everyone cheer.
Pat smiled as the boys dumped the pale, pudgy dude onto the ground by the bonfire.
Kenny settled the crowd and knelt beside the wheezy tub of lard. “What’s your name, sir?”
The tub glanced around like a scared animal, trying to regain his breath. “Borman. Rusty Borman.”
“You worked for those hoarders, didn’t you?” he asked. The fat man nodded. “Tell us what you did for them, Rusty Borman.”
“I worked in the Power,” Rusty barked like a weak little pup. “It’s a big turbine that gives the camp electricity. It’s turned by corpses that chase pigs around.”
“Now that is interesting,” Kenny said as he stood over the lardass wuss. “Now, tell us what you know about this Death Doll. How’d she get so strong?”
Rusty regarded everyone again, then nervously claimed, “She’s dead!”
Kenny’s ever-patient smile slowly vanished, looking as surprised by that bullshit as Pat. “I don’t think I rightly heard you.”
“She’s dead, man. She’s a freakin’ zombie,” Rusty insisted, which earned an impatient glare from Kenny. One of the boys yanked the fat man’s head back by the hair and placed a knife to his flabby throat. “Her partner Cody stuffed her head with some kind of device that makes her smarter than the other rotters. That’s why I left, I swear.”
Kenny glanced around as if wondering who bought the fat man’s bullshit story. Then he laughed and said, “That little brat Jake tried to feed me that line to scare me off, too. Y’all want to guess what I fed him?”
Everyone cheered as Kenny rose and pulled a vial of the Juice from his jacket pocket.
The boys hoisted the fat man off the ground, his eyes growing half a foot each as he asked, “What is that?”
Kenny popped the tiny cork off the vial as the boys forced Rusty’s mouth open. “This is how you help the Pride of Life, Rusty Borman,” he said, then fed him the Juice.
Wild cheers pierced the orange sky as the fat man choked down and tried to barf up the Juice. The noise would undoubtedly draw in the dead, but they wouldn’t stand a chance against warriors like these. They were strong. They were righteous. They were proud.
Victory would soon be theirs.
“For yet a very little while, and the indignation shall cease, and mine anger in their destruction.”
Isaiah 10:24-25
BREAK IT DOWN
Hashim’s arm grew tired from holding the lantern. The teens had enough light from the open back door to daisy-chain all the food out of the kitchen, but he had to make sure nothing surprised them from the dark hallway. He wanted to believe Didi and Isaac got all the Power zombies, but everyone was in too big a hurry to make a full sweep of the compound.
A creek from the hallway made him jump out of his skin. Everyone else froze. He drew down on the door and kept his pistol as steady as he could. “Who’s there?”
A voice like a cartoon alien responded. “I come in peace. Take me to your leader.”
Hashim huffed—laughed, really—and holstered his weapon.
Didi stepped into the doorway with a smile, her face hastily made up. “Oh, wait, that’s me.”
He allowed himself another little laugh. “I see you got your face back on.”
She shrugged, which made him notice the backpack she carried. “I creep people out enough. Besides, I had to stop by the room to grab my tech stuff. How’s the move going?”
“It’s going that way,” he said as he pointed out the back door, then made sure everyone gaping at Didi got back to work. “How’s Cody?”
Didi’s sweet face grew sullen. “Supposedly out of the woods, but I’m still worried.”
“Well, Jesus did say worrying never added to anyone’s—” He had to stop himself from rubbing salt on her wounds, so to speak. “Well, you know.”
“Quite well,” she replied with mild humor. “How come you stopped coming to Service?”
Not wanting to get into that now, Hashim shrugged it off. “Everyone else stopped. I didn’t want to waste your time.”
She smiled. “It doesn’t matter how many come with you; just that you come.”
He nodded but hoped she would forget before they reached their new home.
“Well, I’m going to finish my rounds and grab Cody. See you in the Promised Land.”
Hashim laughed as Didi waved to him and all the teens on her way out. He marveled at her spirit, amazed at how she could make peace with the Lord in death after everything that happened to her in life. He wondered—then hoped—if it would rub off on the others someday; maybe even him. If they survived the night.
*****
Rachelle scanned the pale yellow horizon. Nothing moved out there. She wanted to be encouraged. She also wanted so badly to sleep, but she had to keep watch. She shivered with the breeze, her feet cold and wet from sloshing around in the dark to empty her bunk. All her worldly possessions poked her hips from inside her pockets, jangling every time she moved. She worried all her bullets would spill out of her jacket at any second.
Regardless, she was ready to do her part for Didi and this camp. She was no different than the guys on the other rooftops; younger, sure, but better-trained and more focused. She almost wished Paula would get in her face about being too young for this stuff now. That stick didn’t understand what it meant to be a defender.
She spotted Didi and Isaac heading for the Clinic—most likely to get Cody—while everyone else converged on the Garage with all the stuff they were taking with them. She wanted to laugh at seeing Hashim and Blake herding her weakling peers and all the food they could carry, but that desire died while watching parents and guardians guide their clingy kids.
She thought of the last time she saw her own mother alive. On that cloudy and otherwise uneventful day, her mother wore her warmest shit-eating grin over her prettiest floral dress, bringing with her a guilt trip instead of the 3 Musketeers bar Rachelle had asked for.
You need to find the path back to Jesus
, her mom had said.
A fourteen-year-old jerk-off with a cute smile chose that path for me, Mama
, she had said. The exchange got worse from there.
“What were you thinking? You’re too young for boys
, mija.
”
“I’m not a child, Mama!”
“You’re not a grown-up, either. A grown-up would’ve listened when her mother told her to stay away from that boy. He was trouble. Now, look where you are.”
“You don’t have to rub it in.”
“I’ll do what I must to get through to you. You have to save yourself,
mija
.”
“Stop calling me that. I’m not your little girl anymore, especially not after that night.”
Her mother looked at her with such shock. “What are you saying?”
She took out the baby doll cameo she had stolen, keeping it out of sight from the guards. “I’m not your baby anymore, Mama; this is, and we’ll both be lucky if I don’t have one later this year. The last thing I want—aside from this lecture—is to have to share anything with that
pendego
.” She regretted what she said the moment she finished saying it. She did not want her mother to find out like that, but it happened. She now had to assert her new womanhood, because she was not going to be talked down to like a child ever again.
Her mother stared at her for the longest time in stunned silence. No, disappointment. Her mother left and never came back. She cried for days after that, wishing she had had the maturity to say she was sorry.
Rachelle pocketed her revolver and pulled her cameo from under her shirt. As she stared at her precious little trinket, she began to wonder why she even needed it anymore. Whoever she was, wherever she came from, that was all gone now. She had a new life and a new path to walk. She was a defender.
She made sure the coast was still clear and pulled out the Gerber multi-tool Cody gave her. She summoned the pliers and raised its tiny flat-head screwdriver from inside the handle, holding the pointed end over her cameo as she wondered how best to make the cherubic face reflect the changes in her life. Tears for those she killed? Fangs from those precious little lips like the badass she wanted to be?
Remembering the badass she really wanted to be like, she knew exactly what to do with her old keepsake.
*****
Paula felt like she was about to enter Area 51, and her headache from her earlier spill on the stairs didn’t help. When Bob threw open the secret garage door Clarissa had once mentioned, she stared in stunned silence along with everyone else.
In a similarly hollowed-out garage stood a huge Greyhound bus she couldn’t help but want to call a killing machine. Various sharp attachments gleamed from every surface of its flat black body, its windows all replaced by thick metal plates with long, horizontal peepholes. A huge machine gun protruded from a refitted back wall, and two slightly smaller guns stuck out of the two top emergency hatches. Metal plates had been welded over most of each wheel. Even the doorway was armored. Emblazoned in bright red behind the front door and driver window was the vessel’s name, one that historically promised deliverance from evil:
Moses
.
Lining the walls around the hulking ark were racks of firearms—handguns, rifles, and boom-sticks galore—right up to the massive metal warehouse door.
“Where did you get all of this?” Sean asked.
“Didi and Cody happened to stop by a couple of armories,” Hashim replied.
Bob herded people toward the monstrous vessel. “We’ve packed the essentials to start again: weapons, ammo, medicine, seeds for farming. We only have so much room, so please don’t argue if we tell you to leave it behind.”
Paula pointed to the underneath bins. “What about those?”
The old Native shook his head. “We stuffed those with fuel tanks, spare parts, and tools.”
“Amazing,” Sean said.
“How could you keep all this from us?” Clarissa asked incredulously.
“We couldn’t risk anyone stealing it,” Hashim said.
“Can I sit there?” asked a brawny man with black hair Paula never remembered meeting as he pointed at the rear machine gun.
“Already spoken for, Oscar,” Bob replied. “Load up.”
Paula leaned on her husband as he stepped onto the bus, still sniffing blood under the cover of Clarissa’s handkerchief.
The inside of the bus amazed her as much as the outside. All the cushioned seats had been radically repositioned; a single row of chairs lined the center while the rest had their backs placed against the reinforced walls. An office chair on a welded metal plate sat under the big gun next to the lavatory. Two platforms with shelves on each side replaced two of the center-row seats under the emergency hatches. Foodstuffs, medical supplies, and ammunition filled half of the space in the overhead compartments, under which several weapons rested in welded makeshift holsters. Even the driver's seat enjoyed the protection of armored metal plates, as did two-thirds of the windshields. It was scary and impressive.
Craig pushed past her with two baby car seats and headed for the back. “Children in the center, everyone else along the sides. Don’t touch any of the weapons unless we tell you to.”
Bob pointed at the seats and the lavatory. “The outer seats are double-armored, which is good because those gun slits aren’t quite as small as they look from the outside. The bathroom works, too. Ben installed a flush system that might come in handy with pursuers.”
Paula cringed, but Sean chuckled. “We’d crap on them?”
Bob shrugged. “It’s not like we’re getting pulled over for littering. Grab a seat and strap in.”
Paula and Sean sat together in the middle of the bus.
“Those seats are taken,” Craig told Clarissa up front.
Clarissa glared at Craig and pointed behind the driver seat. “How about that one? I’d kind of like to see what’s coming for my daughter.”
Craig waved her on, and she strapped her baby’s car seat into the center row.
Gilda secured an IV bag to the overhead bin above one of those reserved spots.
Executive privilege
, Paula thought, but her current predicament made her glad she had a place on this bus at all. She started to believe she—they all—had a chance.
*****
Isaac wasn't sure whether or not he was on a sinking ship—or why he wasn’t already jumping, but there he was helping a corpse lug Cody to the Garage.
Blake and his foster kid Dandy dragged that crazy little redhead into the Garage. She screamed and cussed the whole way.
“Why don’t you kill that skinny white bitch already?” he asked.
Didi looked him like he’d said something wrong. “Insurance. Why does skin color matter so much to you?”
Isaac scowled at the dead chick with the bad make-up job. “Oh, don’t act like it doesn’t matter to anyone else. Shit, look who’s coming at us now.”
“That kind of thinking will get us all killed,” Cody said with difficulty. “We don't have time for that shit, not when we’re … about to get mowed … by a bunch of psychos.” He took a few more breaths and pulled himself together. “We're all equally screwed if we don't work together.”
Isaac glanced at Didi. “That what you think, too?”
Didi shrugged. “Why
should
I care? Everybody tastes the same to me.”
Her equalizing reference didn’t sit too well with him, and he certainly didn’t like being taken to school by white people—living or dead. But, she had a point.
“I guess that means … living and dead are really the only two … races left,” Cody croaked, then laughed like he was wheezing.
“Where does that leave me?” Didi looked like she was offended, except for that little smile creeping up on her. “I think I’m offended.”
Isaac let himself laugh until Rachelle screamed her head off. “
Rotters!
”