Z-Burbia 4: Cannibal Road (28 page)

Chapter Ten

The Cookers really didn’t have much in the way of supplies. Lots of handmade melee weapons and a good amount of rainwater stored in barrels, but other than the few bodies packed in salt (they had plenty of salt, which was good), there really wasn’t much. Not even clothes, coats, or anything to keep them warm during the winter. They were truly living a bare bones existence.

No pun intended. You know, because of ‘bare bones’ and I’m talking about cannibals? Right?

Okay, I’ll shut up.

The morning light was like a billion daggers in my eyes as we drove west towards the factory. I guess Lourdes and her people barely got out of Knoxville and fled until they found an old RV manufacturing plant. That’s where we pull into as the caravan of Humvees, and the few vehicles from the Cookers’ camp that Elsbeth didn’t blow up, come to a dusty halt.

Yeah, Elsbeth set the vehicles to blow so we could get away. That was nice of her.

I still haven’t gotten the full story from Elsbeth about how she got captured, or didn’t get captured, but there’s time for that. I do not have the energy to push and tangle with that woman right now. The circular logic alone could cause an aneurysm.

Even though it is just barely past dawn, there is a shit ton of activity around the two huge metal buildings that make up the factory. People are welding, drilling, sawing, and whatever the fuck else you do when you make big shit for even bigger shit.

“All of them have multi-fuel engines,” Lourdes explains as we get out of the Humvees and stare at the hustle and bustle. “We’re stripping out everything that is not essential for surviving on the road. Every ounce counts from now on. We have no idea what fuel will be available and how many detours we’ll need to take to get to Boulder.”

“So we are for sure going to Boulder?” I ask.

“Yes,” Stuart says as he limps up to me. Half his face is covered in bandages and the part that isn’t covered is crisscrossed with a million cuts. He ignores my stare and keeps talking. “Some of the folks in the other pens told us about how Kansas City is a wasteland and to avoid it at all costs. I don’t know if we can completely, but we certainly aren’t going to waste time checking the place out.”

“So some of the captives were coming from the West?” I ask. “That doesn’t bode well.”

“Nothing bodes well,” Lourdes says.

“Jace? I’m going to take the kids to find some food,” Stella says, a worried look on her face. “I’ll let you guys talk this out. We’ll have a meeting later tonight to decide everything, okay?”

“Okay,” I say as I kiss her quickly. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Listen Jace,” Lourdes says and I know what she’s about to say is not going to make me happy. “About that meeting. I don’t think this convoy should be a civilian operation any longer.”

“There are no civilians in the apocalypse,” I reply, intentionally ignoring her meaning. “We’re all soldiers in the war on the undead.”

“You know what I mean,” she says. “I think, and so do most of the others, that Stella should step down as being in charge and let those of us that know how to keep everyone alive do their jobs.”

“That what you think, Stuart?” I ask as I lean against the Humvee. “That we need military rule?”

“No, I agree with you, Jace,” Stuart says and I can see even the simple act of answering my question hurts him. I can’t wait to get his side of what went down that day in Knoxville. “But I agree with Lourdes, as well. While we are on the road, we need to have a clear chain of command. No more committee meetings, no more getting people’s opinions before we act. If we are going to survive until Boulder, we have to have someone in charge that can make the hard choices and get as many of us there alive as possible.”

“As many of us…” I echo and let the words fall away. “You don’t think we are all going to survive, do you?”

“We haven’t so far,” Stuart says. “We lost a lot of people in Knoxville and a lot at the Cookers’ camp. We did pick up a few of the cannies that surrendered instantly. Not everyone there was there because they wanted to be.”

“Whoa, wait, we’re saving cannies now?” I ask. “I guess I missed that this morning when we were loading up.”

“Something wrong with saving cannies?” Elsbeth asks.

“You know what I mean,” I snap.

“We need numbers if we are going to survive the next 1300 miles,” Stuart says. “And who are we to judge who lives and who dies? We’ve all done horrible things to stay alive in this world since Z-Day. There isn’t a fucking saint in this ragtag bunch.”

“Amen to that,” Buzz says.

I look around and see Buzz, Porky, Pup, John, Lourdes, Stuart, and Elsbeth staring at me. Everyone else has gone into the largest of the factory buildings to get washed up, have some food, and to get some rest.

“When did you have time to talk about this?” I ask. “While I was passed out last night?”

“It’s amazing how much we can get done without your mouth around,” Stuart smirks, then grunts with pain. “But, seriously, Jace. We are deep in the shit and Lourdes knows how to get us out of it better than anyone here.”

“Almost better than anyone,” John says, “but her peeps won’t listen to me, so she gets to call the shots.”

“Please don’t say peeps,” I cringe. “Or bro. Those two words are off limits from here on out.”

“Amen to that,” Stuart nods.

“This isn’t going to be a take over,” Lourdes says. “We’ll gather everyone tonight and have a vote, but those that vote against will need to find their own rides. I can’t have dissent while we are on the road. All it takes is a single moment’s hesitation and everything goes to shit.”

“Wow,” is all I can say to that. “Join us or be exiled. Lovely.”

“It’s not like that,” Buzz says. “Not at all. We’ve just got to get our crap together, Jace. We’ve been so focused on running from what’s chasing us that we’ve forgotten about what’s in front.”

“And that’s a whole lotta Hell,” John says. “Nothing is going to get better, just worse. We have to have our shit stored and locked down tight.”

“You don’t store shit,” Elsbeth says, then holds up a hand and hooks a thumb towards me. “Sorry. I know what you mean. I hang out with him too much.”

“Nice,” I frown. “Have you told anyone else yet?” I point at the PCs and survivors busily working on retrofitting the RVs that fill the huge parking lot in front of the factory buildings. “Are these people working their asses off thinking they still have a vote?”

“They do still have a vote,” Lourdes says. “They just may not have rides, that’s all. This is a ‘what’s best for all’ scenario. Sometimes everyone’s safety comes first before everyone’s rights.”

“Spare me the post 911 rationale,” I snap. “I lived through the war on terror, thank you. No one was safer and everyone was a lot less free.”

“Not really a sound analogy,” Stuart says. “This isn’t some perceived threat that may or may not happen, Jace. It’s happening now and we are already deep in it. We dove headfirst and slammed into the bottom. Now we have to deal with the aftermath.”

I close my eyes and start to shake my head, but the pain nearly makes my knees give out and I grab onto the Humvee to stay standing.

“Let’s get you inside so you can rest more,” John says. “I also want Reaper to check you out. Dr. McCormick is good, but she’s also traumatized from the cannibal camp. A fresh pair of eyes could keep you from dying in your sleep.”

He gets a thumbs up to that.

Porky and Pup each take an arm and help me towards the buildings. They are so fucking big that I pretty much just drag my toes and don’t have to walk at all.

Just before we get to the big building, I realize something.

“Hey, Pup?” I ask. “Where’s your uncle? Where’s Critter?”

“We don’t know,” Pup says. “He’s one of the ones still missing.”

“Is anyone looking for him?”

“No,” Porky answers. “Not enough people and not enough time. If he ain’t dead, he’ll find us.”

“What if we leave before he does?” I ask.

“He’ll find us,” Buzz says from directly behind me. “Don’t you worry none about that.”

***

I’m more than groggy as I sit on the hard concrete floor of the big factory building. Stella has just woken me up from a less than restful nap. It was one of those naps where you don’t know if you are asleep or awake and your dreams mix with the sounds of reality.

All that kept running through my head while I tried to sleep was how people would react once they knew that a military coup was happening.

Okay, okay, maybe not a “coup,” but it sure as shit isn’t democracy in action.

I’ve got Greta on one side and Charlie on the other. They are pretty much propping me up and keeping me from toppling over.

Stella is standing up front with Lourdes, Buzz, and Stuart. My wife does not look like a happy camper. Hell, she doesn’t look like a happy cannibal camper and they are a lot less cheerful than regular campers, believe me.

Lourdes has just let everyone know what her plan is and the building is silent. It’s not the reaction I was expecting. I was thinking more vocal outrage and maybe some fist shaking. But everyone sits there before the four of them and listens; no shouting, no voices raised in anger and outrage.

Everyone is so exhausted, so scared, so ready to get someplace safe that they are willing to overlook everything Lourdes is saying.

“This isn’t permanent,” Lourdes says. “This is only while the convoy is in place. Once we reach our destination, Stella will take control again and we can work on getting civilization up and running once more.”

Still, no one speaks out. They sit there, some looking from Lourdes to Stella and back, some looking at their neighbors, some looking down at their hands as they hang their heads. But no one argues at all.

Which means it’s up to me.

“I’m sorry, but this is bullshit,” I say as I slowly get to my feet. The room swims, but I keep my feet and take a deep breath. “If we give up the basic right of freedom of choice, we are no different than the Zs. We’re just a bunch of shambling morons getting from Point A to Point B. Why even bother with the convoy?” I spread my arms, then wish I hadn’t as I struggle to keep my balance. “Why not just stay here? These buildings can house a lot of people and we obviously have tools and supplies.”

“We have tools, yes,” Lourdes says, “but supplies are short. We’ll be out of food and water by the end of next week.”

“Then how will we survive on the road?” I ask. “It’ll take longer than that to get to Boulder, especially with the haul truck blown to shit. We have nothing to clear the road.”

“We’re outfitting a couple of RVs with plows,” Lourdes says. “They’ll shove cars out of the way as we go. And, some of the folks we saved last night have told us that there are quite a few clear stretches along the interstates. People have tried to get things back to a semblance of civilization.”

“And where are those people?” I ask. “Are they here now? If so, what went wrong? Why leave?”

I look around the huge space and find quite a few new folks that refuse to look at me.

“Let me guess,” I laugh. “You had a good thing going, and then times got hard. A well meaning person decided that maybe some rules needed to be in place and the next thing you know you’re all running for your lives because the shit hit the dictatorial fan. That about sum it up?”

No answers from anyone, but I don’t expect any.

“Stella supports this,” Stuart says, “and so do I.”

“Stuart, man, I love you like a brother, but I also remember when you were Brenda’s trigger finger. As much as I want to believe you, I just can’t. I’ve seen the people you’ve killed since Z-Day.”

“We’ve all killed people,” Stuart replies, not taking my bait. “And we all have to live with those memories. But the only way we can live with those memories is to stay alive, Jace.”

Scared faces, confused faces, that’s what I see as I look for sympathy amongst the crowd. Not a single person is in solidarity with me here. They want to live and survive so bad that they will do so at any cost.

“Fine,” I nod. Ow. “Lourdes is in charge while we are a convoy, no problem. But to abandon anyone that disagrees? That’s pretty fucking barbaric.”

“Order will be…” Lourdes starts.

“Fuck your order!” I yell. “This is the mother fucking apocalypse! Every time someone tries to maintain order, innocent people die! We maintained order in Whispering Pines and any unlucky bum that came by the gate got shot! Vance wanted to establish order and we had to blow up the whole fucking subdivision to fight him off! Mondello wanted order and brought an army to take us out! The Consortium wants order and they fucking dirty bombed Asheville to get it! Order will be the mother fucking death of us! FUCK YOUR ORDER!”

“Dad,” Greta says softly, suddenly at my side. “Sit down.”

“I’m not going to fucking sit down!” I shout. “I’m not! I didn’t live this long in this mother fucking hell to be told what to do! No one fucking tells me what to do! I’m a fucking human being and I have fucking inalienable rights!”

“Dad,” Charlie says from my other side. “It’s cool. We know what you mean.”

“I don’t think you do,” I snap. “You’re a kid, Charlie. You both are. You’ve never lived free. You’ve always had parents that can override your decisions and tell you what to do. To live free, then to have that freedom taken away is one of the worst feelings in the world. Worse than death…”

I realize the stupidity of those last words and sigh.

“I just don’t want to die without my freedom,” I sigh. “I can’t die without my freedom. Then it will have all been for nothing and I should have just offed my family on Z-Day.”

“Jason Stanford, you will take those words back this second!” Stella snaps. She stomps over to me and gets right in my face. “You selfish, sorry prick! How dare you say something like that as if it was your choice to make! I am not your property and your kids are not your property! At no point during all of this waking nightmare have you ever had the authority to decide whether I live or die! You talk about freedom and then spout that bullshit? Fuck you, Jason Stanford! FUCK YOU!”