America the Dead (2 page)

I walked over to the body and made sure it was dead. Dragging it over to the ditch, I unceremoniously tossed the small body in, squirted it with kerosene from a small squeeze bottle, then lit it up. I watched the body catch fire and when I was satisfied it would be fully consumed I walked back over to where I had left my bike. I was just in time to see Charlie step from the trees that lined the small road to the park.

“Did you get him?” he called over to me.

“Little runner? Yeah, I got him,” I called back as I headed over to Charlie.

“Runner? I’m looking for a crawler. There was a runner?” he asked.

I stopped dead in my tracks. “Where’d you see a crawler?”

“Around here somewhere. It’s like he fell in a hole or something.”

“Did you stand?” I asked, referring to a zombie hunting method of standing still on a small rise and making noise to attract the crawlers. Once they revealed their position, you put them out of their misery. Or yours.

“Look around. Where could I stand?” Charlie sounded agitated.

“How about the road? There’s ditches on both sides,” I pointed out.

“Didn’t think of that,” Charlie mumbled, chastened. He headed over to the road and crossed to where I was standing.

“Runner, hey?” he asked. Charlie was a big guy, nearly as tall as I was but broader. He had lost his family to the Upheaval, but managed to rebuild much of his life by marrying again and adopting a little girl we had rescued. He and I had been through as much as anyone could have expected and by God’s grace and a load of luck, we were still around to battle the bad guys. If a better man existed to watch my back, I had yet to meet him. I trusted Charlie with my life, and the lives of my loved ones. If something ever happened to me, I knew Charlie would gladly raise Jake and do a damn fine job of it.

“Yeah, the little wiener came out like a yapping dog and I needed to take him down. Why the kids are fast is still a mystery to me,” I replied.

“It’s creepy,” Charlie said. “I get the slow ones, the virus trying to keep things going and not really doing so well, but the fast ones don’t make sense. And why just the kids? It’s messed up.”

“Yeah, I know, but if we wanted to start with the dead coming back to life in the first place…” I trailed off as I saw movement in the tall grass by the trees to my left. I brought my weapon up as Charlie loosed a tomahawk from its holder. We moved silently across the grass and waited. I whistled for a minute and finally grey-black hands slowly emerged from the edge of the small clearing, snaking out as if they were testing the new open space.

The skeletal hands clawed at the earth as they sought purchase to pull the rest of the body along. I say body loosely, since the zombie was nothing more than an upper chest, arms, head, and about a foot of backbone. The rest was simply gone, torn away, probably eaten. I had seen things like this before. Survivors trying to escape zombies by attempting to crawl through an opening too small for them. They get stuck, then they get eaten alive. Once the rest of the body no longer hinders forward progress, the zombie top can roam free. Generally speaking.

This one was very decayed and the dragging had worn away the leftover skin on the chest until white bone gleamed as it pulled itself forward. I had no idea if it was male or female, old or young. It just kept pulling itself slowly forward, locking its dead eyes on us. Its mouth opened to groan, but without lungs, that wasn’t going to happen.

Charlie stepped up quickly to it and with a single chop of his ‘hawk, turned off this zombie’s lights for good. He wiped the blade off in the grass, wiping it again with a small bit of rag we all carried with us for that express purpose. Even after two years, the virus was still deadly and would kill us quickly if we didn’t take precautions.

“Any others?” I asked, as Charlie tucked away his weapon.

“Just a couple of loners. Actually, I expected more, since this is the first really warm spring day that we’ve had,” Charlie said.

I nodded as I retrieved my bike and Charlie went to retrieve his. “Every time I start to think maybe they’re starting to thin out and decay away, another one shows up to make a liar out of me.”

“Sad, but true,” Charlie said. “The stuff I found is this way.” He rode his bike down the access road to the state park, passing by a small parking lot and picnic area. The place looked a little forlorn, as the weeds and grass hadn’t been controlled in a couple years, but in a few more years, unless you looked really hard, you’d never know there was anything here in the first place.

We pedaled into the bigger parking lot that went up to the main visitor area, then circled around to the large wooden fort that had been a visitor favorite for years. It was supposed to represent the exploration of the area, but no real fort had ever been there. It was a big building, nearly two stories tall, with small windows and a narrow stairway leading to the second floor. Properly provisioned, it would make a decent temporary shelter from roving bands of the undead. Long term, though, it was not a good place.

Charlie swung off his bike and took his rifle off his shoulder. His AR was similar to mine, except he had changed out the upper for a flattop version with a bull barrel. He could hit things a little farther out than myself. I preferred closer work with my AR. For long range stuff I used my M1A.

Taking my carbine off my back, I leaned my bike against the building and nodded to Charlie that I was ready. We entered and as my eyes adjusted to the change in lighting, I saw what made Charlie call this one in. There was a backpack in the corner, a small plastic bag of foodstuffs and bottled water, a long pole, and a hatchet. Everything was arranged for quick pickup in case of attack. I climbed the stairs and looked around, seeing a blanket on the floor and a flat rock with charred twigs, the remnants of a tiny fire.

I went back downstairs and nodded again to Charlie. “You’re right, someone is using this place.”

“How many?” Charlie asked, looking around again.

“If I had to guess, I’d say they were travelling alone. I don’t see any signs of another person, although I could be wrong. I have been before,” I said, anticipating Charlie’s response.

I wasn’t disappointed. “Really? You? No, really?” Charlie snorted, shifting his rifle and raising his eyebrows to the point where they threatened his hairline.

“Anyway, where are they now? I would have seen someone on the road and you’ve been here all morning. Chances are they heard me shoot the runner, so they’re probably hiding out right now,” I said, looking around.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Charlie said. “You shot that Z on the road and we went a mile and a half into the woods to get here. If they are down in the canyon area, chances are pretty good they didn’t hear much. If they’re by a waterfall or fast creek, then they might not have heard anything at all.”

“Okay, so we have two options. Wait for them to return, or go looking for them,” I said.

Charlie shrugged. “I say we go find them. If we’re here when they return, things might get weird. If we go to them, at least we can announce we’re friendly.”

“True. All right, lead the way, Bwana,” I said, moving back outside and checking the area for any Z activity.

Charlie stepped out and went past the visitor center. I noted the doors had been broken into and there looked to be things strewn about a bit. I didn’t see any blood so I figured someone was just looking for anything of use or value. These days, money was worthless except for lighting fires, and we had developed a decent system of trade. Canned goods were always useful and so was ammo. Tools were good trade items and quality knives were always in demand. Funny thing, how-to books were very valuable as well. Toilet paper was gold.

We went past the center and walked down a dirt path to a small wooden walkway that took us along the edge of the canyon. The trees overhead were budding in the warm weather, and bright flowers dotted the ground. Here and there a squirrel leaped from tree to tree, and the creek noisily flowed on the canyon floor. There was a lot of beauty here and I could see why people came to this spot. But after the Upheaval, I tended to look at things with different eyes and this place offered no real defense if the dead came in force.

We walked down a ramp which took us to the floor of the canyon. Not having any real clue where we were going, we figured one way was as good as the next and headed north. We tried our best to keep out of the creek, but in spots we had to step in once quickly to get around a bend in the rocks. After about ten minutes, both Charlie and I were soaked up to our thighs.

We stepped up onto a flat rock which the creek flowed over and saw some fifty gallon drums in the water. They had been cut in half and filled with concrete, making stepping stones across the busy creek. I looked on both sides and saw evidence of the original trails, with rotting stairways leading to old paths.

At the top of the rocky shelf, we could hear the low roar of a small waterfall and stepping cautiously over the wet rocks, we rounded another bend and could see the spray of the cascading creek. The water fell a good thirty feet before it hit the pool at the bottom and even from where I stood, I could see it was clear and probably cold. I stepped up to the next rock and Charlie held up his hand. Ducking low and bringing up my rifle, I covered the area to the left as Charlie brought up his rifle and aimed at something up ahead.

Charlie tapped me on the shoulder and I swung back to the right, finally seeing what caused him to stop. A man was sitting on a rock on the right side of the waterfall, filling bottles and washing some clothing. He was tall, easily over six feet. His dark hair hung loosely about his shoulders, his thin arms looked wiry, but strong.. He looked competent, as anyone travelling alone would have to be and he had that wary look about him that the Upheaval had given most of us.

On his hip was a pistol, although I couldn’t make out what kind from where I was. We were going to have to be cautious, since I really didn’t feel like shooting a live person. I waved Charlie back and out of sight. I was going to announce my presence with Charlie covering me, and hope everything turned out all right. Any hostile move would get the man shot, so I wasn’t worried too much, but you never knew. He might get lucky.

Leaning my carbine against the rocky sides, I waited until Charlie had climbed into a shooting position. Given the thumbs up, I stood near the rock corner then called out.

“Hello? Hello?” Right after I said it I felt stupid, and I knew Charlie was going to give me hell for sounding like a doofus.

“Who’s there?” The man shouted. “Show yourself! I’m armed, so don’t be stupid!”

Too late for that. I walked around the corner with my hands held chest high. While it looked like surrender, I knew I could get my SIG out in a hurry if shooting started, provided I hadn’t been shot. The man was standing away from the water, pointing a pistol in my direction. I noticed he used two hands and the gun was not shaking. I figured if this went south I would be lucky to only be shot, if not downright killed. What I was not expecting was what happened next.

“I knew it! I don’t know how you bastards tracked me this far, but I’ll be damned if I’m going back! You tell the Major to go fuck himself!” The man was really worked up and I was getting nervous about his trigger finger.

I kept my hands up. “I think you’re confused. Who is this Major? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t lie to me! Survivors don’t dress like you. You’re one of his men! I ought to kill you right now!” He brought up the gun and I ducked as a shot rang out. I pulled my SIG and went around the corner to hear Charlie yell.

“You’re covered! Drop the gun
now
, or I
will
kill you.!”

The man screamed. “Damn you! Damn your Major! Fucking kill me, you shit! Do it! I’d
rather
be dead!
Do it
!”

This whole mess was getting out of hand. I stepped back around the corner and covered the enraged man, who still refused to drop his weapon. “All right, hold it! Just hold it!” I stepped out and the man’s arm twitched like he desperately wanted to bring up the pistol, but Charlie had stood up and there was no mistaking the intent of the AR now pointed at the man’s head. “Just calm down. Nobody wants to hurt you, but if you do something stupid, you’re in a world of hurt.” I stepped forward and could see the pistol more clearly. It was a standard .45 auto, and had he shot me with it, I probably would have died, even if just wounded.

I stepped closer. “Holster your gun. I don’t want it going off accidentally.” The man stared at me but complied. I holstered mine as soon as he did and Charlie lowered his rifle. The man’s eyes relaxed and his narrow shoulders visibly sagged. “That’s better. My name is John Talon,” the man’s eyes shot towards me when I said that, but I let it pass. “And that gent up there is Charlie James. We’re not with any ‘Major’, we’re just survivors in this messed-up world, like you. We don’t want to hurt you. We just want to make sure you’re okay and to help you if we can. If you don’t want our help, we’ll leave you to your own devices and wish you luck.”

The tall man looked at me and gave me a sly smile. “My name is Simon Crays. John Talon, you say? I think I’m happy to meet you.”

2

We retrieved Simon’s things and rode slowly back to the lodge. Simon’s long legs allowed him to walk at a mile-eating pace, and he had no trouble keeping up with Charlie and myself. I rode on Simon’s left while Charlie brought up the rear. We talked briefly of the Upheaval and I learned that Simon was a computer software engineer, working out of Los Angeles. When the Upheaval hit, he managed to escape the carnage of the city and take refuge in the mountains. He had been living off the land and foraging through the ranches when he was ‘recruited’ by the Major. He didn’t elaborate and I figured we would learn more when we returned home. I told him about where we lived and how we came to be there. His eyes got wide when I told him of the towns and communities we had put together and he expressed a sincere interest in seeing those towns. Simon apologized for his behavior, but he thought he had been chased for hundreds of miles, thinking he had given his pursuers the slip when he crossed the Mississippi. When he saw us in all our gear, he immediately thought of the Major and therefore reacted the way he did.