Z-Burbia 4: Cannibal Road (9 page)

“How about this?” I asked. “You tell us what we need to know and we leave you alone for a while? I’d say after that sock to the face that’s a fair deal.”

“There are a minimum of half a dozen cannibal gangs stationed outside Knoxville,” Kramer said.

“But not all the way to Nashville?” I asked.

“Not that I am aware of,” Kramer answered. “But I could be mistaken. The main corridor of death is the stretch of I-40 just past the I-75 junction.”

“But not in Knoxville?” Stuart asked. “Why not stay in the city itself?”

“They like the openness the road provides,” Kramer said. “Cities are too constrictive for them. Day in and day out their individual gang territories grow and shrink depending on their successes or failures in Cannibal Road.”

“They have a name for it?” I laughed. “Seriously?”

Kramer just grinned.

“How have they grown?” Stuart asked. “You said they have grown and flourished? Considering they eat their recruitment base, how can that be possible?”

“They prey on and eat the weak first, of course,” Kramer said. “Those they do not deem worthy to become a part of their twisted clubs. After that, it is a matter of staying in line. If a member does not follow the rules or decides they are more important than the good of the overall group, then they become the next item on the menu.”

“So they fight and kill amongst themselves,” Stuart said. “I assume they also eat their enemies from other gangs.”

“Oh, they certainly do,” Kramer said. “It’s a long tradition from the dawn of man. Eat your enemies and you gain their strengths.”

“You also gain their maladies,” I responded. “It’s not exactly healthy to be a cannibal. Prions and all that.”

“Yes, so very true,” Kramer said. “Those that subsist on human meat will eventually start to have serious cerebral and psychological stability issues. But not nearly as bad as say bovine spongiform encephalopathy. With cows, it spreads quickly, but with humans, it is more a case by case basis. Some go mad after only a few months of constantly consuming human meat while others last years without a single symptom.”

“That means we could be dealing with people that are not only semi-sane,” I said. “But people that have years of experience hunting and catching humans.” I looked at Stuart and frowned.

“Yeah, I’m thinking the same thing,” Stuart said. “I hope Lourdes and her crew stopped on the far side of Knoxville and didn’t try to scout ahead. They’re good, but it isn’t their home turf.”

“They could already be canny chow,” I said.

“Oooh, how unappetizing,” Kramer said. “I was going to ask for a bite to eat, but I think I’ve lost the stomach for it.”

“Yeah, me too,” I replied.

***

Stuart and I relayed all the information to the others, but it wasn’t like it made much of a difference. We didn’t have the fuel and resources to go around that stretch of I-40. Even if we did, who was to say that there wasn’t some other fucking hell waiting for us in a different direction?

Nope, we were pretty much stuck on the path we had already set foot on.

While Stuart and I had been getting info from Kramer, Melissa and her brothers had been going from vehicle to vehicle to make sure we didn’t have any other hijackings or stowaways. They actually found a guy hanging underneath a Chevy Blazer, but he was way too whacked out of his head to tell us anything useful.

Pup and Porky Fitzpatrick found three vehicles that had sustained enough damage from the attack in the mountains that it was decided to move the supplies and occupants from those into other vehicles. We just couldn’t risk a truck breaking down when we needed to make up the time we’d already lost.

It was a couple hours before we decided we were ready to push on and hopefully reach Knoxville before nightfall. We wanted to get as close as possible, but also have time to get everyone secure and our position fortified for the night. We could fit most people in the structures in the haul truck bed, but it was a squeeze and a lot of us would need to be out guarding the convoy anyway.

Especially since we knew, we weren’t just dealing with Zs, but gangs of people that eat people. That’s never a fun surprise in the middle of the night.

By the time we reached the outskirts of Knoxville, the sun had started to set and we knew it was time to call it a night. Stuart began barking orders, as did Critter. Between them and the Fitzpatricks, we had things pretty much squared away within an hour. A sentry schedule was put in place and we made sure there was a driver in every vehicle in case we needed to move fast in the night. They didn’t have to stay awake, but they did have to be ready to wake the fuck up and put the pedal to the metal if/when needed.

I insisted that Stella and the kids get up in the haul truck, and I would stay with the Explorer. I may not have been in the best shape to drive long distances, but I could start the SUV and make some tracks if I needed to. Stella only agreed when Elsbeth said she’d hang with me through the night. I know my wife was not happy about it, but I could also see she was dead tired and the rest would be good for her. It was probably her need to sleep that really won out.

The night was cool and clear as Elsbeth and I sat in the Explorer with the windows down and listened to the crickets and late peepers make their night noises.

“Did you ever hear about canny gangs?” I asked her. “Did any members come into Asheville to check out the scene?”

It was pretty dark, but I could still easily see the indignant look Elsbeth gave me.

“What?” I asked. “It’s a fair question.”

“You think because I was a canny that I knew all the cannies?” Elsbeth grumbled. “Is that what you think, Long Pork? That we all know each other?”

“Well, no, but I thought I’d ask,” I said. “No need to get all defensive. It was worth a shot.”

She was quiet for a while then sighed. “Yeah. We’d heard of there being gangs of cannies.”

“What?” I nearly shouted. “You did? You made me feel like an asshole when the answer was yes? Not cool, El. Not cool at all.”

“I can’t make you feel nothing,” she countered. “If you felt like an asshole then that’s your problem.”

“Okay, I don’t want to fight about the emotional and psychological dynamics of assholery,” I said. “Just tell me what you know about the canny gangs.”

“Not much,” she replied. “Pa came across a couple people here and there that would talk about the gangs. Sometimes, they were just folks that had come from far away and made it through without getting caught. Some were folks that escaped and some were actually from the gangs. Didn’t really matter what they said since it all turned out the same in the end.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “How’d it all turn out the same?”

Elsbeth patted her stomach. “We ate ‘em.”

“Oh...right,” I responded. “Stupid me.”

“Yep. Stupid you.”

We stayed quiet for a bit, but I just couldn’t let it go.

“So you didn’t learn anything from any of them?” I asked. “Like how many gangs there were or how many people were in the gangs? They didn’t say where they came from? Like where they camped out or anything?”

“Nope,” Elsbeth said. “They all just said the same thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Please don’t eat me,” Elsbeth replied. “It’s what everyone would say in the end.”

“Yeah, I can relate to that,” I sighed as I thought back on my brief time as a captive of Elsbeth and Pa. “It’s really all you can think to say in that moment.”

Apparently, Elsbeth found that funny. She started to giggle and laugh, and had to cover her mouth with both hands to keep from being too loud. Having known Elsbeth for a while, I just waited out the giggle fit.

“You done?” I asked as she got herself under control.

“I am,” she said. “That felt good.”

“Great,” I said and rolled my eyes even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “Want to let me in on what you found so funny?”

“Oh, just you when you were all trussed up in that basement,” Elsbeth said. “You had a lot more words than just please don’t eat me. You couldn’t shut up. It was the funniest thing.”

“I seem to remember you smacking me about a little,” I said. “That wasn’t so funny.”

“Hmmm,” Elsbeth said. “I probably did smack you. Bet I scared ya too.”

“Scared the piss right outta me,” I admitted.

“Oh, right,” Elsbeth said. “Yeah, I remember that. But I liked ya. That was for sure. I knew I liked ya when I first heard ya talk. You have a funny way of talkin’, Long Pork. It got me tickled.”

“That why you ended up saving me?” I asked.

She didn’t reply.

“Did you just shrug in the dark?” I asked.

“Yep,” she replied.

“Fair enough,” I said then yawned. “Care if I settle in and get some sleep? You can wake me up in an hour or so and I’ll let you sleep.”

“No need,” Elsbeth replied. “You sleep all you want. I ain’t tired.”

“You sure?” I asked. “You have to be tired after all that fighting today.”

“Nope,” she said. “Too many thoughts all swirly in my head. Can’t sleep until they calm down, which I don’t think is gonna be for a long time.”

“Well, you have to sleep sometime,” I said. “Maybe Knoxville won’t be too hard to get through and you can rest on the drive before we have to deal with Cannibal Road.”

“Cannibal Road?” Elsbeth asked. “Is that what the Devil called it?”

“You mean Kramer?” She didn’t answer and I didn’t really need her to. “Yeah, he called it Cannibal Road.”

“Hmmm,” she said again. “Not a very good name.”

“But it fits, I guess,” I replied.

“I guess,” she said then patted me on the shoulder. “You go to sleep now, Long Pork. Guys like you need more rest than girls like me.”

I didn’t bother to ask her to explain since it probably wouldn’t have gotten anywhere anyway. I adjusted myself in the driver’s seat and closed my eyes; pretty sure it would be a while before I fell asleep. However, it only took a minute or two and I had drifted off into a world of stress dreams and nightmares.

Chapter Four

So...Knoxville.

That should have been our first clue to get the fuck out of Tennessee and go north. We could have skirted Knoxville, taken highway 71 up to I-75, and then into Lexington, Kentucky. All we would have had to do then was zip across I-64 and we would have gotten to Kansas City to see if Kramer was full of shit or not.

However, Lourdes and her people were supposed to meet us on the far side of Knoxville. They also had orders to meet us on the eastern side of Knoxville and stop us if things were bad, but when we got there, we didn’t see any of the PCs or any messages from them or Lourdes.

So we kept going along I-40, right into the heart of what was a bustling, vibrant university town pre-Z. Go Vols, am I right?

Now, I think it would be a good idea to tick off all the flaws in our plan. That way, you aren’t wasting time doing the same thing instead of paying attention to the shit storm that comes down on our asses. Oh, and that isn’t a spoiler, trust me. There’s enough mystery to the shit storm that you won’t be disappointed when I get to it.

Which is right about now.

Knoxville has a funky layout. It’s this cool, hilly city that has a long, slowly winding stretch of interstate that brings you in from the east and right smack through downtown. Then things get all twisted, literally and figuratively.

You see, when you come into downtown Knoxville, you end up dealing with a trillion exits, overpasses, underpasses, highways merging into one another, and all that goodness. It isn’t all that hard to navigate if you are focused on where you are going and stay in the correct lanes. Pay attention to signs and all that jazz, which is what we had started to do when we got to the heart of the city.

However, just like with the rest of the highway, the haul truck was too damn big to get under the overpasses. We couldn’t stay on the interstate through Knoxville. We had to get off and use the downtown streets as a detour until we were past the clover-leafs and twisting onramps that crisscrossed the highways.

We probably would have been more prepared for what was going to happen if we’d stayed on I-40. At least we would have seen the bodies strung up and dangling from the overpasses as a warning.

Instead, we drove smack into the crazy with only our general unease and survivor caution to prepare us.

Fun times.

The order of the vehicles in the convoy had stayed the same the whole trip, and it wasn’t any different when the haul truck came to a stop on West Summit Hill Drive, just a couple blocks from the University of Tennessee. Stella was driving the Explorer and Elsbeth was sitting shotgun -literally with a shotgun in her lap- while the kids were in the middle seat and I was in the far back, a pistol in my hand and my back against the middle seat so I could watch our ass.

I waved at the Fitzpatricks as we stopped, and gave them a shrug that I had no idea what was going on. I could see Buzz speaking into his radio and then watched his eyes go wide. He pointed at me and twirled his finger for me to turn around. I looked over my shoulder, but all I saw was Critter’s Jeep and the hulking haul truck up ahead. I looked back and shrugged again and Buzz rolled his eyes. He smacked Porky on the shoulder and that brother got out of the truck and hustled up to me.

“Ain’t ya got a radio?” Porky asked, all farm muscle and freckles. “Buzz says there’s something weird up front and Critter wants your eyes on it.”

“Oh, okay,” I said and crawled my way out of the back. “Can’t wait to see what Critter defines as weird.”

Buzz had gotten out of his truck, and had sent Porky back to man the driver’s seat, so he accompanied me. Stella stayed in our Explorer and just gave me the “Be Careful” speech as I walked by. Buzz and I got up past the Jeep, which was empty, and then past the haul truck to the promised weirdness.

And, as it has always been in the post-apocalyptic world since Z-Day, the weirdness delivered on its promise.

“That ain’t somethin’ ya see every day,” Critter said as he stood next to Stuart in front of a massive set of billboards that had been set in the middle of the street to block anyone and everyone’s way. “Maybe you should get Stella up here, Long Pork.”