Deadland's Harvest (9 page)

I started to head in the opposite direction.

“Weather reports were inaccurate as much as they were accurate,” Tyler said. “I miss pizza delivery more.”

I chuckled. “I miss pizza, too.”

We both quickly sobered. It was no fun dwelling on things that we could never have again. We all had a trigger that brought everything we’d lost to mind. Shaking off memories of loved ones I’d never see again, I scanned the distance in silence, looking for any zeds that might have heard the airplane and come to investigate. The bridge and rural highway had no cars for as far
as my eyes could see. This area was rural enough that it didn’t have the telltale scars of wreckage and bodies that populated areas had.

The sun glistened off the blade a trader had given Tyler in exchange for penicillin. It was a nice weapon but it’d be far too heavy for me. I preferred my lighter weapons: the spear I’d made from an old broom handle, a machete from our first looting run in Chow Town, and a large tanto knife Clutch had given me right after the outbreak.

I checked my M24 rifle. We’d been through plenty together, and it bore as many scars as I did. Tiny scratches marred the black metal from a grenade blast that I’d never expected to survive.

“You look sad,” Tyler said. “What’s wrong?”

“My poor rifle has seen its share of abuse,” I answered.

“We all have,” he said softly.

I pointed to a gouge on the barrel that had shown up sometime between the time I was imprisoned at Camp Fox and when I got the rifle back. “This one wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t thrown me behind bars.”

He raised his brows. “Seriously? You’re still beating me up over that?”

“Always,” I replied. “After all, no one forced you to arrest me.”

“I did it to save you from the Dogs,” he said, referring to the Iowa militia. “Besides, you did break the law. No matter how you look at it, killing someone is still breaking the law.”

“
Hmph
. You and I both know that scumbag Dog had it coming for what he’d done to that poor girl.”

He nodded. “Maybe. But that wasn’t for you to decide. You took away his right to a fair trial. I’m not saying he wasn’t guilty and didn’t deserve what he got. I’m just saying it wasn’t the right way to go about it.”

I could’ve brought up the young girl the accused had raped and beaten, but Tyler had heard it all before, and he still refused to budge from his stance on traditional justice. After the outbreak, I’d reverted to an “eye for an eye” brand of justice because mistakes and crimes committed now nearly always caused someone’s death. We didn’t have the time or resources for a full court system anymore.

“At least it was one fewer Dog to attack Camp Fox,” I said instead. “But that’s all water under the bridge now,” I said, watching a sizable tree limb float down the river.

“I agree. I’m glad things worked out and that you decided to stay with Camp Fox.” Tyler shaded his eyes as he looked down the river. “No sign of the riverboat yet.”

Tyler had reached this guy Sorenson on the radio a month or so ago by sheer luck. He spent twenty minutes every day scanning all the AM, marine, and aeronautical frequencies. One day, they had both been scanning and reporting across the same marine frequencies at the same time. It was through Tyler’s diligence that we’d connected with the folks in Marshall as well as several tiny groups scattered across the area. Sadly, for every settlement he reached, he seemed to lose contact with another.

Of all Tyler’s contacts, Sorenson was best equipped to survive the herd migration. He was a riverboat captain and, since zeds couldn’t swim, anyone who could navigate the rivers had done pretty well since the outbreak.

Tyler believed Camp Fox had found an ally in Sorenson.

I was doubtful. There was a big difference between talking on the radio and asking Sorenson if he’d take another sixty mouths to feed onto his boat. That’s why we’d flown all the way here today—to beg Sorenson to add Camp Fox to his crew. Temporarily, of course.

After turning around and heading back toward the plane and across the painted X on the bridge, my stomach growled. I pulled out a plastic bag filled with jerky. Without freezers, all lean meat was made into jerky. Jerky and nuts comprised our protein staples on scouting runs. I chewed on a piece and held the bag out to Tyler, who grabbed one.

“Any thoughts on a backup plan to our backup plan?” I asked. “Just in case Sorenson doesn’t come through.”

“Besides running?” Tyler sighed and then shook his head. “No. We really need Sorenson to come through.”

“Even if he does let everyone from Camp Fox hop a ride until the herds pass through, it’s still a three-hour-plus drive over here, best-case scenario. Longer with the roadblocks we’ve marked on the maps.” With the Cessna, I could only bring a couple people with supplies at a time. I’d never be able to transport everyone before the herds reached our latitude.

If today fell through, my assignment was to fly over potential routes and mark any roadblocks and herds on the maps. Even then, driving a convoy full of people and livestock in any direction was a dangerous plan. We’d surely draw out any zeds in the area.

Griz and Jase met up with us at the plane. “All clear to the east,” Griz said, snatching a piece of jerky from my bag.

Jase grabbed the entire bag and dug in.

“Same to the west,” Tyler said. “If the engine noise didn’t draw any in, we shouldn’t have anything beyond the random grazer to worry about today. Sorenson picked a good area. I can see for miles in every direction.”

An engine noise in the distance snapped all of our attention to the river. Shading my eyes, I searched for the source of the sound.

“Over there.” Jase pointed to the southeast.

I followed his finger and saw a white deck boat coming out from behind an island of trees and toward us.

As the boat approached, I could make out four men. They pulled to a stop where an aluminum extension ladder had been securely chained to the bridge.

A muscled man grabbed a hold of the ladder while a man with weathered skin motioned toward us. “Come on down. We’re here to take you to meet Captain Sorenson.”

Tyler didn’t move. “I was under the impression that Sorenson was coming here to meet me.”

The man shook his head. “You’re meeting Captain Sorenson on the
Lady Amore
today. We’ve all seen the herds. He can’t risk leaving the boat anymore. Now, we’re burning gas. Are you coming or not?”

Tyler shot each of us a look before turning back to the men on the boat. “Yes, we’re coming, though I don’t appreciate the change in plans.”

Griz took the lead down the insanely long ladder, and I followed, noticing that the ladder was actually three extension ladders fastened together with chains. It would be no fun for anyone scared of heights, like me. My muscles were tight, and I gripped too hard with each rung I descended.

One of the men helped me off the ladder at the bottom, and I looked up to see Tyler sliding his sword into its sheath. I stood off to the side, ready to pull out my machete in an instant if anyone tried to injure Tyler. After all, Captain Tyler Masden wasn’t just the commanding officer of Camp Fox, he was its face. Clutch was a better strategist and a stronger leader, but he lacked Tyler’s finesse in working with people. If something happened to Tyler, morale—which was thread-thin already—would snap.

Tyler climbed down, with Jase right behind him. One man motioned Griz and me to sit up front. As I walked past the boat pilot, I noticed the rifle propped next to him, and I swallowed. We’d have run out of ammunition months ago if I hadn’t found Doyle’s stash of old military surplus.

Once we all sat down, the driver throttled the boat forward gently, and we pulled away from the bridge and headed toward the small island. With every minute, I felt farther and farther away from Camp Fox.

Over a half hour later, the boat curved around the northern edge of a small island, and a riverboat casino came into view. It was still a good ways off, a mile or so at least, and our boat pilot seemed to be in no hurry, burning precious daylight.

As we neared the
Lady Amore
, my eyes widened. The riverboat casino was massive, yet perfectly hidden from anyone—or anything—on land and from air. Our boat rocked gently as it pulled up alongside the riverboat which was filled with people watching us from the deck above. At least six of those people had rifles pointed right at us.

“The password?” a white-haired man—who looked like the fellow on the cover of frozen-fish boxes—called out from the deck above.

“Mae West had nice tits,” the man who’d spoken to us at the bridge yelled out.

“That password is correct, Otto. You all may come on board.” Sorenson motioned to the armed people with him. “Lower your weapons. Everything’s clear.”

“His own guys have to use a password?” I muttered.

“Every time we have newcomers,” the man named Otto replied. “It’s a safety precaution in case we’re being coerced into bringing bandits on board.”

“It’s smart,” Tyler said as he came to his feet.

A ladder extended down the side of the tall riverboat. We climbed up in the same procession as we had at the bridge. At the top of the ladder, two men lifted me up and onto the deck.

Griz was already chatting with the white-haired man I assumed to be Sorenson. A small terrier sat by his feet. The man said something that brought out Griz’s deep chuckle, and then the man narrowed his eyes at me. “You must be the pilot.”

I nodded.

“It’d be handy having one of you around, especially nowadays. I’m Captain Sorenson, and welcome to the
Lady Amore.
” He held out his hand, and I accepted it.

“I’m Cash.”

Tyler stepped onto deck, quickly followed by Jase. Sorenson smiled. “And I take it you’re Captain Masden.”

Tyler gave his irresistible Homecoming King smile. “It’s great to finally meet you, Captain Sorenson. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve delayed our meeting until the spring, but some factors arose that forced the issue.”

Sorenson nodded. “I’ve seen the herds with my own eyes, Captain Masden, so I’m not the least bit surprised at your visit.” He gestured to his men. “You’ve already met four of my men. Otto, Hank, Chuck, and Pedro.”

Tyler dipped his head at the men who’d just come up the ladder.

“You didn’t come all this way to swap nicknames and exchange pleasantries,” Sorenson said. “You’ve got a zed problem headed your way, and you need my help. Let’s go somewhere where it’s more comfortable to talk.” He paused. “I’m a fair man, but I won’t allow aggression on the
Lady.
All weapons must be holstered or sheathed at all times, or else they will be confiscated. Aggressors will be dealt with harshly. I’m assuming you find no issues with that?”

Tyler looked at all three of us first, then back at Sorenson. “I can assure you, no weapons will be drawn as long as there’s no reason for them to be.”

“Fair enough. I’d never ask for more than that,” Sorenson—with his dog as his heels—led us to a side door and entered. We all followed into a well-lit hallway. I glanced back to see Otto and Pedro stepping in behind us, and Otto closing the door. Inside, the hallway was straight with doors every ten feet or so. It reminded me of an old-fashioned hotel, and I realized that was exactly what the
Lady Amore
was.

The end of the hallway opened into a winding double-staircase that led down to an enormous open area. Twenty or so poker tables dotted the colorful open space. Couches,
beanbag chairs, and camp chairs looked out of place in the ornate room that reminded me of a scene from
Titanic.
The new furniture was likely replacements for the missing slot machines, and the area was now filled with people chatting and eating. At the far end of the casino was the restaurant area where a large buffet was set up against a wall. Twenty or so people stood in line.

Sorenson had a good setup here, a safe little paradise that no zed could get to…though I suspected it was a different story each time they had to go to land to refuel and restock.

He led us down the stairs and through the area, nodding, chatting, and smiling at folks as he walked. Beyond the buffet line, there was another winding stairwell. After climbing a flight of stairs and taking several hallways, we entered a bland corridor with beige walls and no artwork.

“This used to be the staff quarters. My quarters are right on the end up here,” Sorenson said. “We’re a bit cramped around here, so this is the best place to chat openly.”

“I would’ve taken the biggest room if I was the boss,” Jase said softly behind us.

“A family of eight lives in the Presidential Suite,” Sorenson replied as he stopped at a door. “They need the space far more than I do. Besides, these quarters have been my home for nigh on
thirty years. They’re plenty enough for my needs and suit me just fine.” He opened the door, and his dog bounded inside. Sorenson walked in and held the door open for the rest of us to enter.

Inside, the area seemed to be as large as any suite, which I supposed was probably common for captain’s quarters. The room we stood in was a medium-sized living room area with a large wood conference table in the middle. A couch and TV sat in the far corner opposite a small kitchenette. Next to the refrigerator was an open door to a bedroom.

Sorenson gestured to the table. “Have a seat,” he said before he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl.

I took a seat next to Tyler, and Otto sat on my other side.

Sorenson set down the bowl. “Pickled bass. Help yourselves.”

His dog yipped, and Sorenson picked out a large piece of fish and tossed it in the air. The dog jumped, caught the chunk, and swallowed it in a single bite.

Tyler reached in and grabbed a small piece of fish. “Bass? Haven’t heard of that being pickled before.”

“You can pickle just about anything that can be eaten. It keeps food from going bad and doesn’t ruin the taste,” Sorenson replied. “But we steer clear of the bottom feeders. In fact, I lost one of my people from bad catfish. Too many fish have ingested zed-infected bits to be safely eaten anymore. It makes fishing more challenging.”

“I can imagine,” Tyler said, after taking a bite. “We no longer hunt wolves since they’ve started going after zeds. We can’t trust that they don’t carry the virus.”

“Speaking of zeds,” Sorenson said. “Looks like a heap of trouble about to pass through.”

Tyler gave a tight nod. “We have a theory that they’re migrating south for the winter.”

Sorenson cocked a brow. “Interesting idea, and what I’ve seen would support that. But I wouldn’t put much weight on that theory. I’ve yet to see the herds do anything logical.”

Tyler shrugged. “I doubt it’s a planned event. I think it’s nature. As they get cold, they just start heading to where it’s not so cold.”

Sorenson chuckled. “You’re assuming they can feel
anything
. I’ve speared a zed right through a kidney and it didn’t even wince.”

“Call it a sense of preservation, then. Who knows what’s driving them, but we’ve mapped their paths, and all signs point to the herds moving south and picking up numbers along the way.”

“Which is exactly why the
Lady
is going to head further north to find safe ports and food,” Sorenson said. “Once they pass through, the pickings should be easy.”

What’s left of them, anyway,
I thought to myself.

“What’s your plan when you come face to face with one of the herds?”

“Same plan as we have when we come across a herd of twenty. We’re safe as long as we are careful under bridges and keep plenty of water between them and us.”

“What will you do if one of these herds comes across the
Lady Amore
? What then? You think they’ll ignore you just because they can’t get to you?”

“No, they’re persistent bastards. We’ll head down river. If they’re migrating, then they’ll get the urge to keep moving. There are enough islands and turns in the river for us to break visual contact. You know zeds. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ and all that.”

Tyler looked dubious. “You’re assuming the urge to migrate is stronger than their urge to eat. I’m guessing these zeds are hungrier than ever since they’re moving.”

Sorenson leaned back and cracked his knuckles. “I’d worry more about what you’re going to do. You don’t have a boat. What’s to stop the zeds from walking right through the park? There ain’t nobody out there with enough firepower to cut down one of those herds.” A sly smile crossed his lips. “Then again, that’s why you’re here.”

After a moment, Tyler nodded. “We need your help. If we can come aboard this riverboat, just until the herds pass through—”

Sorenson lifted a hand. “I’ll stop you right now. The
Lady Amore
is at full capacity already. She can’t handle any more people. We can barely purify water fast enough the way it is. As for food…well, that’s all dependent on our next restock.”

My heart plummeted. I wanted to jump in to talk about how they wouldn’t have to feed us, but I didn’t dare speak.
Tyler was our leader, and we had to show we were one hundred percent behind him. We needed Sorenson to believe that Camp Fox would make good passengers on the
Lady Amore
, but after seeing the riverboat, I’d already suspected Sorenson wouldn’t risk the good thing they had going by doubling his crew with strangers. We were desperate, and it pissed me off, but I couldn’t blame him. I had the exact same mindset when survivors passed through the park. Still, knowing that we’d be on our own devastated me.

I looked across the table at Jase and Griz. Both looked the same way I felt. Filled with utter despair.

“It would only be for a week or two. Once the herds pass through, we’d head back to the park,” Tyler said. “We’d bring enough food to cover all Fox personnel while on board. With more hands for boiling water—”

“You don’t understand. It’s not the manpower, it’s the facilities,” Sorenson interrupted. “We’re boiling water twenty-four hours a day as it stands. We’d have to turn on another bank of stoves, which would burn more fuel, and that’s our biggest concern. Fuel is our most precious commodity. It’s not easy finding safe ports to refuel. Hell, siphoning from crippled boats is nearly as dangerous.”

Tyler held up a hand. “I understand. I’m asking you for a favor I might never be able to repay. Believe me, if we had any other option I wouldn’t be here. But the only way we’ll all survive in this new world is by working together. If I put my people on the road, any direction we head except south, we’ll run into more herds. If we run south, we’ll just be staying one step ahead of the herds. Eventually, something would happen, and the herds would get us. We need your help, Captain.”

“Please,” I said softly, pulling my girl-card. But I wasn’t acting. I desperately hoped he would help us, and I wasn’t above begging.

He came to his feet. “I never said I wouldn’t help you. Unfortunately, the
Lady
is full. I’m sorry, but I simply can’t take on any more souls. Not without risking the lives of the ones on board now.”

Tyler came to his feet as well. “Your riverboat is doing okay now, but just wait. What about the trade agreement we’d discussed? Your fish for my livestock. If Camp Fox has to go on the road, we won’t be able to tend crops or share our livestock.
Hell is coming our way, Sorenson. Don’t be so naïve to think that it’s going to bypass your boat.”

Sorenson headed to the kitchen. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

The room sat in silence before Tyler finally sighed. “I get it. I know the strain taking on my people would add to an already full boat. I wouldn’t ask if I knew of another way.”

After taking a drink, Sorenson screwed the cap back on, turned around, and leaned against the counter.
A moment later, he looked up at Tyler, then at his two men in the room. “As I told you before, I’ll help you, but I can’t take any more onto the
Lady.
”

Tyler frowned. “Then what can you do?”

Sorenson paced the room. “Awhile back, I came across a decent-sized towboat that’s run aground not too far from here. It’ll work better than any building would for keeping zeds out. I’d been planning to use her for overflow survivors we find. I can mark it down on a map for you.”

Hope sprang from deep within. There was a chance!

Tyler shook his head. “None of my people have any experience running a towboat, especially one big enough to support sixty-plus souls, our livestock, and food.”

“There’s no need for that. That towboat isn’t going anywhere. It’s dead in the water. It ran aground on a small island that goes underwater every spring. A few of her barges have broken off, but there’s enough still connected that should hold you through until the island floods come spring. Even then, she should still hold together for a year or two.”

I watched as Tyler thought for a long moment.

He finally nodded slowly. “It could work. We should only need it for a couple weeks. Until spring, that is, when the zeds might return.”

Sorenson pulled out a stack of papers in the top drawer and headed back to the table. He dropped a paper on the table. A map.

Sorenson opened the map and pointed at an X marked on the water. “Here’s the island you’re looking for. It isn’t far from the mainland, so you’ll have a higher risk of zeds floating ashore, especially with how tiny the island is. But it’s the best I can offer. We’ve already had to start turning away survivors. If we bring on any more, we risk the lives of the ones already on board. I can’t allow that. These people are my responsibility.”