THEM (Season 1): Episode 1 (6 page)

I also had my Glocks, and I’d decided to bring a suppressor along as well since working in the Corridor meant stealth over firepower. To save ammo I also brought along a high-velocity slingshot and some lead ball ammo that could serve to take out a few zombies quietly in a pinch. It was also good for filling the stew pot, although I wouldn’t be doing any cooking in the corridor. Since I was walking I had to travel light, but I’d also brought along a fighting tomahawk that I preferred over knives or bludgeons for close combat. Plus I had my short golok on my pack and my bowie knife on my harness for good measure.

Once I double-checked my kit, I headed to the bar to see Kara and to get a copy of Sam’s safe-house maps from him. As I walked in the front door, a quick scan told me I was the only customer; it was early yet, but the privacy wouldn’t last long. Best to just get it over with.

Kara had her back to me as I walked up to the bar. She looked busy, but that was also one of her talents.

“I didn’t hear you leave this morning. Are you still mad?”

She turned around to face me, one hand throwing a bar rag over her shoulder while the other reached out to lean on the bar. “I’m not mad, Scratch, just... frustrated, I guess. Maybe it’s wishful thinking what with the way everything has turned out, but I can’t help thinking that I want more than just getting by out of life. And I think that means having someone to wake up next to every day.”

“So you’re breaking up with me?” I’m sure I cocked an eyebrow when I said it, but I couldn’t help but think how stupid this all was. Not that Kara’s feelings didn’t matter, but wishing for a normal life was just so impractical.

“No, I’m not. And wipe that smart-ass grin off your face. No, what I’m saying is that I want you to consider that your job isn’t just hard on you, it’s hard on me too.”

“Kara, I realize that—”

“No, you don’t! It’s just like I told you before, you’re always so busy saving other people that you don’t think about the people closest to you.”

I knew now wasn’t the time to hash this out. I needed a clear head for the trip to come, so I decided to go to my backup plan. “Alright, I think I see where you’re coming from. But honestly, do you really think I’m going to stop doing the work I do? It’s all I’m good at, there’s plenty of work for me, and it definitely has its rewards.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the peaches I’d gotten earlier. “Here, I brought you something from the storehouse.”

Kara’s eyes shot daggers at me. “Don’t try to change the subject on me, Scratch.” But despite trying her best to be angry with me, her eyes lit up a bit as I pulled out a fresh peach from the bag. “You sneaky bastard—how in the hell am I supposed to be mad at you now?”She took it from my hand and brought it to her nose, taking a deep whiff. “Fresh peaches—wow. I thought they were all gone already.”

“Like I said, hunting has it rewards.”

“Don’t even think this gets you off the hook. But you’re sweet for bringing that by for me.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Let me pack you a lunch before you go.”

“Thanks. I need to head in back for a minute to talk to Sam. But I’ll be sure to wait if you’re busy when I’m done.”

“He’s still parked in the same spot he was in yesterday.” She sniffed the peach again and looked up at me with a bit less fury in her eyes. “Don’t leave without saying good-bye.”

“I won’t.”

I turned and walked into the back room, finding Sam Tucker nursing a whiskey and pouring over some papers. “Scratch! Figured you’d have the sense to stop back in for some intel before you took off. Here, I made you a copy of my safe-house maps. You’ll need it.”

“You read my mind.”

“You ain’t stupid, and I figure I owe you at least that much since I’m sitting this out. Drink?” Sam gestured questioningly to me with the half-empty bottle of clear liquor he had in his hand.

“No thanks, I have a lot of walking to do.”

Sam shrugged and poured himself a generous two fingers. “Suit yourself. Decided against taking the river?”

“I thought about cutting south and following it in. But even if I could float the whole way, it’s too dangerous. A canoe is just a floating target for punters, not to mention the portage issues. I prefer being on foot.”

“I agree. Still, it beats walking. You plan to stop by the settlement?”

I was pretty sure I saw a twitch in the corner of Sam’s eye at the mention of the place, and I took it as a good indication that he was mighty rattled by what happened to him out there. “Definitely,” I said. “If something fishy is going on, that seems the likely place to start. How many days ago was it that you were there?”

Sam shrugged, a little more noncommittally this time. “Five days, give or take.” He took a slug of liquor and cocked an eyebrow. “You think some of them might have gone back by now?”

“If anyone scattered, that’s possible. But, if they disappeared in the way you described, I fear there may be no one left to find. Still, I need to piece together what happened to the settlement, so that’s where I’ll head first.”

“Fair enough. Just make sure to get someplace secure each night before dark. Taking out some ghouls or a lone nos’ at night is one thing—but a pack of ’thropes is a whole different can of worms.”

Sam was talking to me like I was some noob who’d never been outside the gates.
Yeah,
I thought
, he was definitely spooked.
“I’ll make sure to be under cover and holed up before dark once I get close to the Corridor. By the way, I don’t plan to be gone more than a week. If I don’t come back, you’ll know where to look for my gear.”

“If you don’t come back, I’ll have moved in with Kara.”

I chuckled, then sighed and rubbed my head. “Well, maybe you can make her happier than I have. Good luck with that.”

“Eh, making a woman happy ain’t that hard. It’s keeping her that way that’s the impossible part. Here’s one to your health, and coming back in a single piece and breathing.” Sam tipped his glass my way, then tossed a shot back with a grimace.

“Thanks, Sam. See you in a week.”

- - -

I
said my good-byes to Kara, and then decided to take a detour on my way out. I’d kept back one jar of canned peaches and a fresh one, and wanted to drop them by the house where I’d killed those two rapin’ pieces of shit the day before. When I got there the place looked deserted and locked up tighter than a rusted nut, but that wasn’t uncommon round these parts. Like I said, most people holed up underground at night, and I was pretty sure the lady would have her and her kid laying low for a while.

I didn’t want to poke around too much and make them nervous, so I just walked up on the front porch and left the jar of fruit and the peach in the old grocery sack Janie had given me. I noticed a flash of a little girl’s face in the window as I turned away, but by the time I turned back, it was gone. At least I knew they’d get to the stuff I left before someone else did.

On my way out of town, Constable Sims waddled up to me at a pace that said he was in a tizzy. The look on his face spoke volumes as he approached me, and I knew before he even opened his mouth what was up. How he’d found out was beyond me though, because I didn’t peg the woman to talk.

“Headed out?” he asked after I stopped to find out for sure what he wanted. As if it wasn’t obvious, but I figured he just wanted to be as friendly as possible about accusing me of breaking the peace, such as it was.

“Yep. Do you need something, Donnie? Or are you just making conversation? Because I’m on a timetable and I need to be moving out.” I gave him a decently hard stare, hoping that he might just let it slide. No dice.

He looked at me sort of sideways as he spoke, which told me he wasn’t enjoying this any more than I was. “Well, sort of. That is to say, I got a complaint on you—and I know that it’s probably nothin’, but I have to check into these things, you know.” He paused and tucked his thumbs in his belt while he cleared his throat. “Anyway, someone said you attacked them without provocation, and that you killed two caravaneers yesterday.”

I decided to just act dumb and see what he’d do. Donnie Sims was a coward at heart, and I figured he didn’t have the balls to arrest me regardless of what I may or may not have done. “What else?”

“That’s it, I think.” He paused, pulling his thumbs out of his belt to straighten his shirt, and then he tucked them back in his waistband and looked at the ground. “Well, did you? Kill those fellers, I mean?”

Two ways I could play this. Deny or tell the truth. I decided to do neither. “Donnie, let’s just say I did kill a couple of lowlife, good-for-nothing, rapin’ and stealin’ scumbags who were passing through. If I did happen to do such a thing, I’d probably have had good reason for it. Self-defense might be a reason, defense of an innocent might be another. Besides that, you’d need evidence to even prove I did it. A body, and witnesses to say it was in cold blood. So, what’ve you got?”

Donnie hemmed and hawed over that last bit. As it turned out, he only had one witness, and it was the one that got away. Damned if I didn’t know I should’ve chased him down.

“Alright, so you have one witness who says I gunned his buddies down in cold blood. So what? His word against mine. So, if you’ve got nothing better, I have shit to do and dead things to kill.” I started off past him, hoping he’d let it go.

“Scratch, I want you to know that I believe you’re innocent.” I paused and looked back over my shoulder for a second. “But this fella Jimmy, he claims one of them fellers was his brother, the other his cousin. I don’t think he’s gonna let it go. Not that you need it, but just fair warning to you.”

Surprised at Donnie’s words, I nodded slowly. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

“And Scratch? I just want you to know that, well—I know you don’t think much of how I do my job.” I just stood there, quiet. There wasn’t anything to say to that. After an uncomfortable silence, he continued. “I may not be the best constable, I admit it. But if I had someone around here like you to help, it might go easier.”

“I ain’t no lawman, Donnie. I’m a hunter. It’s what I’m good at.”

Donnie shook his head in disappointment. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you’d say. Just think about it. Kara’s a good woman, and there’s a place for you here, if you want it.”

Damned if Donnie didn’t surprise me twice in one day. Hell if I’d ever take him up on it, but it surprised me that he’d even offer. I nodded once and walked off; it was going to be a long trip to the Corridor.

- - -

I
t was noon before I stopped, and I’d been making good time since I’d left the gate back at the safe zone. I planned to make it to the Canyon Lake settlement in two days, and so far I was right on track and setting a good pace. My route was mostly farm-to-market roads that’d been left over from before the Great War. They were still used by caravans and salvagers to get back and forth from the settlements and safe zones to the Corridor, but not so often that I couldn’t avoid company if I wanted. Most folk avoided the major highways; too many punters there, looking for easy prey.

So far this morning, though, I hadn’t seen a single soul. I’d stopped off the south side of the road back up in some trees to take a rest and check Donnie’s safe-house map, and had a pretty good vantage point of the road from where I sat. Then something caught my attention out past the road to the northeast. I saw a flash of movement, then nothing, about eighty yards up the road. It didn’t appear to be an animal, and since I was headed that direction I figured it’d be prudent to check it out.

I gathered my gear and readied the HK in case I needed to put something, or someone, down for the count. This time of day there wasn’t too much danger of running into the undead, except maybe in old abandoned buildings or deep in the woods. They tended to shy away from direct sunlight, but of all the occult species out there they were among the least averse to light. So, you still had to be careful traveling alone outside of a safe zone or settlement. I moved stealthily out from my position, staying low and within the tree line as I approached the area where I’d seen the movement.

Soon I could hear it—the low moaning sound that indicated a group of zombies—and they were headed this way. Better to be still then retreat, since zombies had shitty eyesight but typically an uncanny sense of hearing. I hunkered down and watched as a group of nine and a few stragglers moved at speed across the road and into the woods in front of me, about twenty-five yards ahead. From the looks of it, they were hunting whatever I’d seen a few moments ago.

Now this was a messed-up situation. For one, it was highly unusual to see a herd of zombies out hunting in the daylight. Chances were good whatever they were chasing had screwed up and spooked them in their den. Probably a loner out scavenging for food; pretty dumb way to survive, these days. Most canned goods had gone bad by now, so the only way to get past subsistence living was in the settlements inside the safe zones. Even I had to come in to barter and restock every now and again, and also just to speak to a living, breathing person. Isolation would make you dead or nuts eventually, and could be deadly as any undead creature. So whoever was about to get zombie humped was either dumb, crazy, or on the run.

Once I was sure the last deadhead was past me, I began stalking the group from about thirty yards west of their movement, moving quietly to avoid garnering their attention. Zombies were slow and easy to avoid, but a group that large wouldn’t give up the chase easily, and they could run you down if you weren’t close to a safe house or settlement where you could seek shelter and safety. Besides that, getting injured was always another danger. People tended to panic when they were being hunted by the undead, and all it would take was a twisted ankle to make a person zombie food.
No bueno.

Within five minutes I could hear the group’s movement slow. I eased my pace and stalked closer to see what was up. Peeking through some dense brush, I could see an old trailer home in a clearing with all the undead milling around it. For a moment there was little indication of what had brought them here, but then I saw it: a bit of hunter’s camo poking up above the roofline. Someone was up on top of the mobile home, and they were obviously flattened out and praying that the deadheads would give up and move on. Fat chance. More likely, they’d find a way into the trailer and camp out till dark, making it impossible for whoever it was to escape.