He paused a moment to allow that last part to sink in.
“The kid and I,” he continued, “were about to scout a location yesterday when your call for help came in. It’s far enough away from the city where Zulus and scabs shouldn’t be an issue, but close enough for supply runs. Fresh water, fresh food, natural barriers on three sides and enough room for all of us.”
“He’s right,” DJ said. “These barricades wouldn’t hold up to a large group.” The big man heaved a large sigh. He had helped build this camp and was proud of the defenses, but now was coming to terms with how weak they really were.
“What is this place you’re talking about?” Campbell asked.
“A little airboat tourist area off of 192,” Fish replied. “It’s called Camp Holly.”
“I know this place. I never even considered it,” DJ said. “We would need to get an airboat. Maybe some canoes.” He sounded like he liked the idea and was thinking ahead.
We talked for another hour. Fish told them he and I would go ahead with our plans to scout it out. The Lieutenant, though not entirely convinced, went along with it. He told us that he wanted to wait a few days before we left. The compound was running short on supplies, and with DJ out of the game, he needed us to assist in some of the runs.
Campbell started assigning roles for people to prepare to move. DJ said he would want to get a few more vehicles and beef them up. I wasn’t shocked when he added a fire truck to the list.
Kat said she and Leanne would focus on the garden system, and I said I would help. I wasn’t an expert, but I had some experience. With the bucket system, we could easily transport anything that was growing in our garden back at our old house.
Fish and I moved as much as we could the next day over to the Ace Hardware compound. We decided to pack up the things we wouldn’t need right away and store them in the house. There was no need to move everything at once since we planned on relocating again. Besides, it would have taken us extra time.
We were also able to get one of the vehicles DJ wanted. It was a medium-sized fire truck with just a little superficial damage. The kids were excited to see it, and one of them even gave it a nickname: Big Red.
Fish and I, along with Jenna, made a few scavenging runs as well, earning us a decent bounty and extending the supplies in the compound for another week.
By the third day after we joined the group at Ace Hardware, Fish decided it was time to check out Camp Holly. Campbell, however, had a slight adjustment to Fish’s operation.
Chapter 20
Camp Holly
April 22
nd
Morning
“I would really feel more comfortable if you took Gardner or Combs as well. You could use the firepower if things got hairy.” Campbell wasn’t exactly pleading with Fish, but he did seem concerned.
“Look, you’re already forcing Gonzales on me,” Fish returned as he threw his backpack in the bed of our truck. “I don’t need more people to babysit.”
“You said yourself it looked like a trap at the interstate overpass,” the LT shook his head. “I just don’t want to lose any more people.”
“And you need your troops here to defend the compound!” Fish shot back. “Look, the kid and I have done a lot of hairy things and have learned to work together. I only agreed to take Gonzales because he’s been a stick in your ass lately. Maybe some time outside of the wire will remind that tool how good he has it.”
That was true. PFC Gonzales had been making more and more comments about how rank didn’t matter anymore. He was the rebellious sort, which was probably why Rachel was attracted to him. Personally, I kind of liked the guy, but I wasn’t sure why he had joined the Army. He wasn’t much for taking orders and that’s basically all you did in the Military.
I was the only one that could hear the two going back and forth. I pretended to check my gear by the driver’s side door, even though I had done so three times already. They weren’t yelling, but each exchange became more and more heated as the other stressed their point of view.
“Who knows what you’re going to find at that place? There could be a scab or maybe some undesirable survivors. You could use more eyes.”
Fish gave out a long, frustrated sigh.
“Alright,” the sniper finally gave in, “Give me Jenna.”
“Jenna?” the Lieutenant asked.
“Yeah, the redneck chick.” Fish stopped moving and faced Campbell. “From what I’ve seen, she knows her shit when it comes to the outdoors. She’s a good shot and has been outside the wire more than your troops. If I’m going to take on another kid, I at least want someone who I know can handle themselves.”
Campbell seemed a little offended, but if he disagreed with that last part, he didn’t say anything. Fish was right. Jenna was pretty tough and acted more like a tomboy than a lady.
“Alright, take Jenna,” Campbell conceded.
“Kid!” Fish called over to me. “Go get Jenna. Tell her we leave in twenty minutes.”
“Alright,” I said and jogged towards the store. I passed Gonzales on my way, and he gave me an odd look. He was probably wondering why I had a stupid grin on my face. I wondered the same thing. I guess I was a little attracted to Jenna. I mean, it’s not like there were a lot of single women I knew that were still alive. But, truth be told, with everything that was going on in the world, having a relationship was pretty far from my mind. Not to mention, the attraction would have had to be mutual.
Jenna was excited to be invited on our excursion and rushed to get ready. I ran over to grab Boomer in the back of the compound. He had been a favorite among the children, and he played with them whenever the time allowed. Boomer shared their feelings, I thought. He was always excited to be outside with them. I probably didn’t play with him enough.
Somehow, Jenna beat me back to the truck, which earned me a glare from Fish. Not only that, but she was sitting in the front passenger seat and smiled at me as I approached.
“Shotgun, sweetie,” she said, grinning ear to ear.
There was no use in protesting. We weren’t in school anymore and I had a feeling she wasn’t going to give it up that easily.
I opened up the rear passenger side door and let Boomer jump in before me.
“I gotta ride with that dog?” Gonzales complained.
I shot him a glare as I climbed in, but it was Fish who had a quick response.
"You don’t have to, Private. You can always climb in the back with the gear,” he told him.
“I don’t know how I let Campbell talk me into this,” Gonzales muttered.
“Quit your belly achin’, Carlos,” Jenna said playfully as Fish drove the truck to the front gate. “Rach will be waiting for you when you get back.”
“Yeah,” Fish added, “if you’re that bothered, maybe Jenna can dig up some Midol for you. Besides,
Lieutenant
Campbell didn’t talk you into shit. He gave you an order.”
“Whatever Fish,” Gonzales muttered under his breath. I wasn’t sure if Fish had heard him until he slammed on the breaks, almost sending Gonzales and me crashing into the back of the front seats.
Fish spun around and locked eyes with Gonzales.
“I may be retired, but to you I’m Top, Master Sergeant, or Sergeant. You get me
Private
?” he asked in that stern voice I had started to compare to Clint Eastwood. For someone who said he didn’t want to be known as a Master Sergeant in the Military anymore, Fish was playing that card pretty hard. He was probably just doing it to put Gonzales in his place.
“Aye-aye, Top,” Gonzales replied a little less sarcastically than I think he wanted to. Gonzales may have been a confident prick sometimes, but Fish had a way of making just about anyone feel like they were two inches tall.
He turned back around and added, “I’ll let you know when you’ve earned the right to call me Fish.”
Gonzales didn’t say anything back, but I could see anger in his expression as he turned from me and looked out of the side window.
The weather wasn’t exactly “free skies”. It was a term Fish and I had recently started using when describing a clear, sunny day. There were spots of puffy white clouds, but not enough to provide shade for long periods of time. The dead-heads, as Campbell’s group called them, usually didn’t come out unless something attracted them when the sun was out.
We headed out and Fish decided to take mostly back roads towards the interstate overpass that led out to Camp Holly. He maneuvered around the confusing road network of Palm Bay. The city hadn’t exactly made the best plan for the urban area. Roads would loop back or suddenly stop or curve at random places. If you didn’t know your way around, you could get lost easily.
Fish knew his way, though, and we finally pulled out on the west side of Palm Bay Road, which was close to where I used to live. The huge shopping center there, containing stores like HHGreg, Michaels, Target, and more, appeared to be mostly intact. But that’s not what was grabbing my attention.
The giant parking lot that was surrounded by the multitude of businesses was crawling with the dead. They were all moving north, towards a newly built IMAX theater. Something must have stirred them up.
“Good for us they’re moving away from us,” Gonzales muttered.
“I wonder what they’re chasing,” Jenna stated.
“I wonder where they all came from,” Gonzales added.
“Probably the highway,” I muttered. “All those cars…” It made sense. I mean, those people probably abandoned their vehicles and were easy prey out in the open. Something could have attracted them to this area. That was all speculation, of course.
We continued down some more roads until finally we came to Route 192, and turned west towards Interstate 95. We drove through the same mishmash of jammed up traffic we had a few days before. This time, though, it was much easier to navigate. Fish seemed to remember which spots to avoid and which routes were easier to pass through. Zombies were randomly popping out of hiding spaces, but were much too slow to be a threat.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Fish ordered as we approached the highway overpass. Nothing seemed different from when we were there just a few days before. If it was some sort of trap, no one else had sprung it.
“Still think there’s a trap?” I asked him. I’m sure my tone told him that I still thought it was unlikely.
“Maybe,” he said as he slowed the truck down a couple of hundred feet before the bridge. Cars lined both sides of us. It was impossible to get on the actual interstate, and just like before, there was only room for one vehicle to fit underneath the overpass.
I’m glad Fish was the cautious sort, but in the end, we wasted two hours trying to figure out if it was a trap or not.
I was right, but Fish never admitted it. After he sent Boomer and I on a scouting run under the bridge while he and Jenna covered us with their long rifles, we finally figured if there was a trap, the people who laid it were long gone. I found evidence of a pretty nasty firefight, but it had been some time ago. Old, spent shell casings and a few burned out cars with bullet holes was all that was left of whatever trap or battle had been there.
There was no telling if it was a fight between survivors or the dead. After all, the dead could usually get back up after a few days and continue on their rampage. All evidence of the losers of that battle had literally walked away.
We loaded back up and headed west on 192. From there on out, there was no civilization. And though we were only going seven or eight miles, it was interesting to see all of the carnage disappear and be replaced with nature. The four lane route cut through the swamp and marsh land like a knife. There was a reason why people didn’t live there. You can’t build housing communities on water and mud.
We didn’t see any signs of life… or death on the road. That was a good thing. If the dead-heads were sticking to the cities that meant Fish’s idea of moving out of the populated area was a good one. After the first few hundred feet from the highway, there wasn’t even an abandoned car.
Doing sixty, it only took about ten minutes to finally reach Camp Holly. Route 192 went over the St. Johns River on a long bridge. Camp Holly was just off to the left on the south side of the road.
The small complex was surrounded by a couple of cement walls. None completely protected the area, but that could be fixed. The eastern and southern parts were protected by the river with two small wooden docks and one boat ramp. To the west was an open, large dirt parking area, followed by brush and marsh further down. Between the two walls on the north side was another dirt area to park vehicles. Next to the reception building, the wall ran west along the complex. A tall chain-link gate was the only way back into the rest of the compound, and there were boards nailed to the cement wall concealing whatever was behind it.
“I didn’t realize how visible it was,” Fish said, shaking his head. We were stopped in the middle of the road looking over Camp Holly.
“That could be a bad thing, but a good one as well,” I returned. “Think about it, Fish, the camp is off the road, but below the road embankment. You won’t see it until you’re right up on it. That means we can hear whoever is coming.”
He grunted with agreement.
“Yeah, but I’m betting the mosquitos are atrocious out here,” Gonzales said, throwing in his two cents.
“You aren’t afraid of a few bug bites, are ya, darlin?” Jenna teased.
“I guess I prefer those to the dead-heads biting me,” he conceded.
“There are ways to handle the bug problem,” Fish added.
We turned into the compound and Fish slammed on the brakes just as we drove into the dirt parking area.
“Shit!” he exclaimed. We all shared in the curse as we came to a sudden halt.
From the road, you really couldn’t see it, but now that we had driven down into the parking lot, we could make out two trucks parked on the north side near the wall and embankment that paralleled the road. One of the trucks had some sort of boat trailer on it and the second had a hatch on the bed.
“Jenna, get in the back,” Fish ordered. “Keep your eyes peeled.” She acknowledged and jumped out with her long rifle.
“And us?” Gonzales asked.
“Same as before, Private,” Fish responded as he grabbed his gear. “Get in the driver’s seat. Be ready to back up the kid and me.”
A sickening feeling hit my stomach.
“What do we do if we find living people here?” I asked. I was more worried about that than having a run-in with zombies or a scab.
“We’ll deal with that if it happens,” Fish snapped. “Get going! We’ve already lost the element of surprise.”
Gonzales jumped in the front while Fish, Boomer and I exited the vehicle. The first thing that hit me was the smell. Fresh air. Real fresh air. Not the temporary relief that the Ace Hardware compound provided, but nature’s finest fragrance.
I looked back and saw that Jenna had a pretty good position. She could probably snipe anything that was threatening us. I couldn’t see over the secondary wall that led into the camp, though. For all we knew, there were a hundred scabs in there waiting for us.
Fish and I made our way to the two trucks with Boomer in the lead. I carried my MP5 and Fish had his rifle out. I guess out here you didn’t have to worry about the sonic boom of weapons fire.
Boomer gave me some awkward signs. As if he sensed something, but then it was gone. Then he stopped and growled. Fish grabbed my attention and pointed with his rifle towards the boat ramp. On the end near the water line was a five-foot long alligator, sunbathing.
I reached down and stroked Boomer’s back to calm him down.