The Zombie Wars: The Enemy Within (White Flag Of The Dead Book 8) (9 page)

Brian spat again, then abruptly turned on his heel and stormed off. I watched him go for a moment then turned back to Sarah.

“Good timing,” I said, giving her another hug.

“Yeah, we pulled in here and things seemed just a whole lot weird.  Once we saw this group about to hang the young man over there, I figured we needed to do something about it.  What did he do, by the way?” Sarah asked.

“Kept the town from being overrun by zombies,” I said.

I didn’t elaborate just because the look on Sarah’s face was priceless.

We backed the semi trucks up to one of the barricades that Zim had built out of cars.  We learned that he had originally been contacted by the people of Fair Grove to build a barricade for them around their town. Zim had been a large fork truck operator back in the old days and used his skills to start moving cars around.  The zombies were attracted to the noise, and he soon started penning in the ghouls to keep them out of his way.  After a while he had realized he’d turned the zombie population of Springfield, Missouri into prisoners. When he tried to collect from the town, they crawfished on the deal. That’s where we came into the picture.

It took three days of work, but in the end we managed to wipe out the population of Springfield. The corpses burned for two days, and we spent that time relaxing, gathering supplies, and making plans for the next part of the war.  Winter was coming on, and there were cities I wanted to take.

Montana

“So he headed east, did he? And locked you up in a guard shack.” Cole looked at his son with no small measure of disgust. “And now he’s gone, and we really don’t know which way to go to catch him and bring him back.”

Cole stood up from the table and turned his back on the two men seated there.
God, things were simple once. Get up in the morning, get your chores done, and head home of an evening
, he thought.
Now it’s a bunch of complaints and problems, and now we have stories of an army spinning around. Great.  Just great.

Cole turned back to the men.  “Is there anyone we can send out to try and find him? What about your trackers? They’ve found men before.”

Luke Blacktail nodded. “They ought to. They’re full-blooded Ogallala. Came up from the reservation outside of Cheyenne when Denver fell and the ghouls headed north.

“Are they willing to go after Tibbles?”

“Right now, they are not exactly motivated.  The first snows have fallen, and more is coming.  They get caught up there in the mountains, they’re dead men, and they know it.  Darnell was not stupid, and he timed his run nearly perfectly. Anyone you send after him will likely not come back before spring which will turn off most men,” Luke said.

Carson spoke up.  “We could just order them to go. Why are we wasting time talking about it?”

Luke looked over at the young man.  “Because that would prove Darnell was right, and the last thing your father needs right now is open rebellion when winter is coming.”

Cole looked at his son.  “Shut up until I ask you a question. You’ve proven you can’t handle an older man and a young girl. I ought to let you try to order the Sioux around and watch them laugh in your face.”

Carson looked down, his face turning red. He had screwed up, but the man had a gun! Was he supposed to die for this shithole?

Cole Hobbes took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Okay, here’s what we’ll do.  Darnell is gone, over the fence and into zombie territory.  He survives, good for him, he’ll never come back anyway.  Story over.  No point in chasing him and risking anyone’s life.”

“What about the army?” Luke asked.

Cole nodded.  “I’m a little curious about those myself.  Did you get any more information from that scout that made it back?”

“Nothing of substance.  The man had just travelled a couple thousand miles by himself,” Luke said. “But I can send out two more if you want.  An army of any size would be noticed from a long way off. If they leave today, they should get through the passes before the snow comes, and with the cold coming on, the zombie threat is less.”

Cole slapped his heavy hand on the hardwood table. “That’s the plan, then. Pick your men, then get them gone. They have thirty days.  I want them back before the end of the year.”

Blacktail rose and then stopped. “What if we get a winter like we did a year ago?  The snow almost filed the canyon.”

“We’ll keep a passage open,” Cole said, as he turned to his son. “That’s your job.  Find a couple of friends that owe you a favor.  You’re camping over the wall for the next thirty days.”

Carson scowled but kept his thought to himself.  He’d tried bucking his dad before, and it took the intervention of Heather Hobbes to keep Cole from seriously injuring his son.

Darnell was cold.  He didn’t tell his daughter because she would worry, but he was deep down chilled to the bone cold. They slept during the day and walked at night, the reasoning being that the sun would keep them warmer as they recovered from their previous walk. It was more dangerous to travel at night, but Darnell was hopeful they would reach the Spring Creek road before the next sunrise. From there, they could move from campground to campground, heading south along a much easier path. Right now they had just walked until they reached the foot of the mountain, then followed the valleys.  Sometimes they had to go in directions they didn’t want to, but overall they made good progress.

Alison was leading the way since she had better eyes and could see further in the dark.  Darnell just concentrated on stepping where she stepped and keeping out of the way.

Suddenly, Alison stopped. “Dad!” she whispered quietly, but urgently.

Darnell’s head snapped up. He looked around and saw several shadowy figures moving slowly in the open grass next to a noisy creek. A quick head count told him there were more of them than bullets in his gun.  Not a great place to be, mathematically.

“Don’t move,” Darnell said. “We’re in a good spot here. They can’t see us in the trees, and they can’t hear us with the creek nearby.  “There’s no wind, so they can’t smell us. Just be patient, and let them pass.”

Alison was frozen with fear. “But what if they hear us or know we’re here?” Her voice started to rise above a whisper, and Darnell put a kind hand on his daughter’s mouth.

“Then we run for the nearest mountain and go up.  It’s too cold for them to follow, and they’re moving slow as it is.  Pretty soon they’re going to be frozen,” Darnell said with more confidence than he felt.  Deep down he was terrified as the small horde of about a dozen zombies slowly made their way towards him and his daughter.

They moved very slowly, and it was strange to watch them walk nearly in unison. But they made their way slowly towards the small grove of trees that hid the terrified pair. Occasionally one would turn its head and smell the air with a large intake of air. But they always moved on, pushing aside long grass and sometimes tripping over hidden rocks.

Darnell turned his daughter to face him. “Sit down by the big tree there. I’ll sit over at this one.  Don’t move unless you have to. And if you have to, head to your right, and make a run for the mountain. It’s our only chance,” Darnell said, as he saw the question in Alison’s eyes. She nodded and silently sat down on the side of the tree away from the zombies. Darnell ducked down and made it over to the other tree facing the same way.  No moans behind him suggested that they had gotten away with their little bit of movement. It was very dark, and the only way Alison had seen the zombies in the first place was one of them had glowing eyes.

Darnell used his hands and told his daughter to cover her head with her hood and keep her face down. He’d had to do this before when he was running from the zombies during the first days of the Upheaval. He’d been chased down an alleyway by three of them, and around the corner was a car covered in a tarp.  He’d slipped under the tarp when they couldn’t see him, and they walked right on by.  He hoped it was a pattern, and he didn’t just kill himself and his daughter.

He put his own head down, and with his eyes closed he listened as the footsteps got closer and closer.  They were about fifteen feet away, then ten, then five. The next sounds were the zombies walking around them, slowly, shifting through the grass, stumbling over the rocks. 

From under his hood, Darnell could see a foot stepping inches away from his own foot, just fuzzy blurs in the darkness, but Darnell could sense the ghoul beside him. He was grateful it was cold, but he could feel a line of sweat starting at the back of his neck and running down his back.  His own heart was beating so loud he was amazed the zombies couldn’t hear it. He didn’t dare move to see how Alison was doing, but he hoped she was still and quiet.  He’d know otherwise. 

It took forever, but eventually the sounds faded away, and Darnell still counted to two hundred before he slowly, slowly lifted his head and scanned the area from underneath his hood.  He looked around from side to side, then slowly he stood up, stretching legs that were suddenly screaming with cramps. He turned around and very slowly looked around the tree, making sure there were no stragglers. He’d seen it before. Some family dodged a horde, only to fall right into the next one that was just behind the first.

Darnell stepped over to his daughter and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped slightly, and he could feel her shaking under her hood.

“Let’s go, honey,” he whispered, barely above the sound of normal breath.

Alison grabbed her father’s hand and pointed with the other one.  In the brush, crawling very slowly, was another zombie.  It was staring at Alison with greedy, glowing eyes, struggling to get closer as it opened and closed its mouth in anticipation. 

Darnell felt a sudden fear, but he pulled his daughter up, and holding her hand, led her around the tree and away from the small horde and the thing in the grass.  As he walked he shook his head, thinking about how hard it must have been for Alison to see that thing getting closer and closer and not being able to scream or move because the other zombies would surely have killed them both.

They moved quietly away, keeping low and trying to stay near rocks and other obstacles that would keep the crawling monsters away.  Darnell decided it would be better to travel a little higher up the mountain where it would be easier to evade any zombies, but Alison voted him down, saying they could move a lot faster in the valleys, even though it was more dangerous.  The cold weather was the deciding factor, as even chillier winds blew down from the peaks.

“We’re going to need shelter soon,” Darnell said. He was even colder than before, since the sweat from the last zombie encounter was starting to chill him.

Alison nodded. She kept moving ahead, working her way around rocks and deadfalls. She moved quickly but quietly, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and the last batch of zombies.

The moon suddenly came out between the clouds and the valley was suddenly bathed in pale light.  Alison didn’t miss a beat. She froze in place, just as her father did, and the two of them slowly checked the terrain for anything that might be deadly before moving on. 

The road appeared suddenly, without any warning whatsoever.  One minute Darnell was dragging his feet through some tenacious grass, and the next minute he was stumbling into the back of his daughter because his feet were suddenly free.

Alison turned abruptly and grabbed her father, hugging him closely.  She’d been so close to getting bit, and to have escaped like that at the last minute was almost more than her seventeen-year-old mind could handle.  Even though she had survived the journey to Montana, right now she needed her dad.

“Whoa, girl! I got you, I got you,” Darnell said, holding his daughter while she worked to get the shakes out of her system.  He had to give her credit, she didn’t lose it when that thing in the grass was coming for her.  If she had made even a sound they’d have been slaughtered.

Darnell made sure she understood that.  He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes.  “Sweetheart, that was the bravest thing I had ever seen.  You held it together when it mattered the most, and you saved us both.  Do you understand that?  You saved us both.”  Darnell looked at the road. “And you got us to this road.  Do you know what that means?”

Alison shook her head, her eyes gleaming with unspent tears.

“We made it. We got away.  Now all we have to do is get out of the mountains before snowfall, find a place to spend the winter, and we can start over,” Darnell said.

Alison smiled, even though she knew her father was just trying to make her feel better.  They had very little chance of getting out of the mountains before snow blocked the passes and roads, and they were on foot.  Where would they go?  They were alone in a sea of zombies, and no one was coming to save them.

“Come on,” Darnell said.  “Let’s get moving down the road.  If I remember right, there should be campsites along this road.  We can spend the day in one and get some real rest.” Tibbles was really feeling his age and the cold, and hoped the nearest one wasn’t too far away.

“What if the zombies are there?” Alison said.

Darnell shrugged. “Right now, I’d fight a hundred of the damn things to get some decent rest.”

The pair moved steadily down the road.  It was an old logging road which the state had taken over and maintained as an access road into the mountains for fighting fires and conducting forestry surveys. The campsites were places that the firefighters would go to rest during burn season.  Hikers were allowed to use the sites as well, and they were a welcome change from sleeping outside.

As they walked, they heard the sound of running water, and soon it became apparent that the road was following the river.  Darnell was amazed at his luck.  If they got attacked, they had the perfect retreat right next to them. 

The road was far from perfect, and three winters without maintenance had done a good bit of damage. But it was certainly better than trying to make their way through the rough country of the mountains, and with the woods on one side, a small but swift river on the other, they made ten times the progress they had made before.

A little before dawn, when the sky over the eastern ridge was changing from deep blue to a slightly lighter shade of blue, Alison pointed out the sign that hung from a tree. “Indian Hill Campground”.  She gave her dad’s hand a little squeeze and together they walked over the small bridge that crossed the river.

The campground was mostly empty spaces under trees where people would set up tents or campers and then do their hiking or outdoor whatever. There were spaces for RV’s, and a small concrete building that looked like it was for taking showers and such.  A small log cabin was near where the driveway made a big circle, and behind it Darnell could see the remains of an old plastic play set.